#anyway isn't it nice to meet someone dressed as you

[cheesomancer]

Koi 🐟 Cheeseless version here.

[slushycoookie]

What's That Smell? ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 3.1k

✩ Content: Worst!Logan and Hairdresser! Reader. Wade acts like he's innocent in this, but he's not. Pheromone perfume. Logan doesn't go feral, but he gets there. P in V. Vaginal Fingering. Squirting. MINORS DNI!!

✩ A/N: I had to write about my man reacting to pheromone perfume. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Commissions

“Happy birthday!”

Wade hands you a pink gift bag stuffed with sparkly tissue paper. “It's not my birthday.”

“You're so silly.” He waves you away with a sensible chuckle. “It's someone's birthday somewhere. Anyway, I saw this and thought of you.”

You pull out a small bottle of perfume decorated in a crystal clear color. The design looked oddly familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint where you saw it. “Oh, thanks. I've been meaning to get some more perfume.”

“Well, the gods answered, and as your friend, I am known for reading my friend’s minds.”

You're pretty sure Logan brought it up to him one day, but you didn’t question it. You thanked him with a hug, and he mentioned something about doing a fashion show for Mary Puppins when he left your apartment.

It was nice of Wade to give you a gift. He's always been generous towards you since you were with Logan, but you didn’t expect something like this.

You even mentioned Wade's generosity to Logan later on, who gave a questionable raise of an eyebrow.

“Really? He bought you perfume?”

“Yeah.” You pull out the bag and show him the bottle. “Wasn't that sweet of him?”

Logan squints at the bottle, still not convinced. “I guess so.”

“You guess so.” You rolled your eyes. “Can’t you believe that he wanted to be nice? He doesn't seem like the type to play a cruel joke.”

“Cruel isn't the word I'd use.” He grumbles.

You place the pink gift bag back on your dresser, reminding yourself to use it the next time you go out.

That next time was for running errands. You had to restock the kitchen, enough to last you and your superhero boyfriend, who loves to eat and drink, for a couple of weeks. Plus, you needed to get more supplies for the salon. Logan would meet up with you at the store since he spent the night back at Wade's to prep for Mary Puppin's first day at doggy school. You could tell from the brief phone call last night that he was worn out.

You throw on an oversized t-shirt, leggings, and sneakers. Not the most attractive outfit. Before you left, your eyes landed on the gift bag. Harmlessly, you sprayed Wade's perfume behind your ears and the space between your bicep and forearm.

Running errands was serious for you. You weren't the biggest fan of spending hours at the store, wasting time grabbing groceries. Logan agreed with you on that front, as he didn’t want to waste time either.

Once you stepped foot inside the store, you were ready. With a list in hand, you were filled with total concentration. A few minutes later, there was a shift.

You received a lot more attention.

Many people coming up to you to tell you smell good. You just started in the produce aisle, and four people approached you. It surprised you the multitude of compliments you were getting despite having the appearance of a bum. Others were making conversation while you were trying to shop, asking you simple questions about good salad dressing brands. Or how many spices you have in your home. Trying to get closer to you.

One man didn't seem to get the hint that you were busy. He offered to help you with your groceries while you were in the cereal aisle. Logan's favorite brand of raisin bran was on a high shelf, causing said man to grab it for you. You were polite, but maybe you shouldn't have been, as he constantly hovered around you. Drawn to you for reasons you can't explain. Talking your ear off about whatever he could think of.

“You probably have your own shopping to do. I don't want to distract you.” You say, hoping politely declining him would make him take the hint.

“No, no, it's alright. I don't want to leave a defenseless person like you.”

You hold back at getting annoyed, “…it's a grocery store.”

“Still, I just think-”

“You got cotton in your fucking ears?” In a blink, Logan grabs the intruding guy by his shoulder, effortlessly pushing him away. “She didn't need any fucking help, bub.”

The guy scoffs, rolling his hips to make himself look more arduous, “And who are you?”

“Her boyfriend, who isn't afraid to make you a pathetic stain on the ground.”

You knew he meant it, but you also didn’t want to get banned as you really liked this store. The guy took the hint, leaving the cereal aisle like a defeated puppy.

“My hero.” You kiss Logan's cheek and see him sniff the air. He turns towards you, pupils almost blown. Before you can ask if he's alright, he grabs your wrist, smelling the space between your bicep and forearm. The action makes you laugh a little.

“What's that smell?” Logan takes a few more sniffs, and you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “It's sweet. Really fucking sweet.”

“O-Oh, I put on perfume today.” You didn't need to ask if he liked it as he was glued to your form, sniffing behind your ears, his breath fanning your neck.

“Is this new? I've never smelled this before.”

“Yeah, it's the one from Wade.”

Logan lets out a groan that sends straight to your core. Goosebumps coat your flesh, and you shudder when his hands creep under your shirt to feel your bare skin. His touch was hot, almost making your back arch. You had to remember you were in a grocery store. There were eyes on you two, and you had to regain some control, or else there'd be two new names on the sex offender list.

“Baby, we got things to do.”

You pull away from him, trying to ignore Logan's dejected face at the fact they had errands to run. He hardly said anything else after that. He delegated his role to being the silent shopper, pushing the cart and responding briefly whenever you talked to him. To anyone else, he gave off the appearance of a man not wanting to go grocery shopping. You knew it was something else when you noticed his knuckles turning white from gripping the cart. Everything in your body warned you not to get close to him until the errands were done.

An unsettled feeling arose inside your stomach when the two of you were outside, a cart filled with groceries. Logan mentioned he brought Althea's car, which is one of the few words he's said since then.

He told you to wait in the car while he put the groceries in the trunk. You wanted to help, but he pushed you to go inside, almost gritting his teeth. There, you sat on the passenger side while waiting for him to finish. Logan was taking his time and acting completely different from your usual outings. At one point, you saw him with his head towards the sky, taking heavy breaths, hands on his hips.

You had a feeling this was your fault somehow.

When Logan got inside, you ask, “You okay?”

“No.” He doesn't start the car yet. You could see the veins across his hands when he gripped the steering wheel. “You don't know how fucking good you smell right now. It's everywhere. My nose, my head, my thoughts. You don't know bad I'm trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you in the backseat. ”

You didn't know what to say, but you liked it. Your thighs squeezed together at how a couple of spritzes of perfume were affecting him.

“Is it that bad? Do you wanna go home instead?”

Logan shakes his head, “You still have to go to the beauty store.”

“I can get those things another day-”

“No, sugar. I'm not ruining your plans because of a damn perfume.”

Butterflies tangle in your stomach. This man still had ways to make you shiver. You just needed to be a responsible adult for a bit longer.

The beauty store was five minutes away, but being in the car with Logan felt like an eternity. His large hand rested on your thigh, creating heat through his palm. Your thoughts wanted him to go higher, near your sex, to feel how horny you were getting. The car started getting warmer too, sweat forming on your brow. If Logan hadn't smelled you earlier, he would probably have smelled you now.

“I'll go in with ya.” He offers when pulling into a parking spot.

“No need! I'll probably be a bit anyway.”

You rush out of the car before he can say anything else. Practically running inside the store so you can get your mind straight. Your boyfriend's words were hovering in your mind, and you resisted the urge to turn back around and have him go by his word.

You needed to calm your mind. Hopefully shopping for more supplies would help and Logan staying in the car.

“Now, what kind of man would I be if I let my lady go in alone?” Logan's gruff tone sent chills across your spine and his arm around your waist to press against your back. No words escaped you as he sniffed behind your head. “Say something.”

“Logan…” You let out a shaky breath, trying not to falter at the proximity. He couldn’t resist copping a feel on your breast, which made you bite your lip. “There are cameras.”

He grunts, burying his face in your neck as you two stand awkwardly in the shampoo aisle. Thank goodness there was no one nearby to witness it.

“I'm behaving.”

“Barely.”

When you were usually out to restock, you were quick, decisive, a separate list on hand to make sure you had everything you needed for the salon. This time, you were slower and more distracted as Logan was glued to your hip. Giving you extra hugs after picking up an item you need on your list. A gentle kiss to your neck. His arm possessively around your waist. The man wasn't even a massive fan of pda either. Whatever this perfume was had him forgo his usual self.

When people were nearby, he didn't leave your side. His large pupils were on them as if they were a threat as if they were going to take you away from him.

If you had any more errands to run, that would have to wait another day. Once you two checked out from the store, your man was about to snap.

Logan was dead silent when he started the car, his knuckles almost turning white again. The apartment was only fifteen minutes away, and you weren't sure if he would be able to hold on that long. You only noticed deep, heavy breaths that overshadowed the radio you turned on to distract yourself. You weren't sure if you wanted to ask if he was okay again. You had a feeling he was going to go true to his word to fuck you in the backseat.

Once pulling up to your apartment, you were ready to get out, but his hand held yours to stop you.

“I'll get the bags.”

“There's a lot of them, I can help-”

“No.” He cuts you off, bringing your wrist up to his face and taking a long sniff. You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. A whimper almost escaped your lips. “Go wait in our room.”

You had nothing else to say after that.

You did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the bed while holding your hands. Your heart pounding in your chest as you heard Logan bring the bags inside. You weren't sure why you were nervous. You were doing what you were told.

Maybe he told you to wait because the scent was becoming unbearable. That he couldn’t focus, or your scent was dampening his enhanced abilities. Did you mess up? All you did was put on perfume. Or did Wade mess up? Did he accidentally bring you something that affected mutants? You should’ve thought twice before accepting a gift from him.

Slow and heavy footsteps made it's way into the room. You watched Logan close the door and lock it as if there was anyone around to disturb you.

“Take off your clothes.” He starts pulling off his own shirt.

You did so, albeit a bit slower than him. Your thighs clenched as you knew your cunt was wet from all of the waiting, the touches, and kisses from the stores, his filthy words. Logan's eyes scanned your naked body when he got closer. You tried not to focus on his hard cock, red around the tip, cum leaking from it. You wondered how long he was holding that in.

“You got some type of power I don't know about?” He doesn't give you a chance to answer when he presses against your naked body. Heat coming from his chest that was making you flustered. “You secretly a mutant, and you decided not to tell me?”

“No! No, I'm not a mutant. I swear all I did was just put on some perfume-”

Logan silences you with a kiss. Hands on your sides while groaning between your lips. You thought he was mad at you, yet he was sticking his tongue down your throat. His rough hands on your sides. You hold on to him for dear life when he parts, sniffing the air, and you feel yourself getting wetter.

“Motherfucking perfume should not make you smell this good, Jesus fucking Christ.” Logan swears while he's buried against your neck again, licking and sucking along your skin. You whine at how rough he's getting, as if he needs more of you. “I won't get mad if you tell me you are a mutant right now because fuck…”

Logan picks you up and tosses you on the bed. You barely have time to recover when he flips you over on your stomach. A hand presses on your back, keeping you firmly against the mattress. His lips kiss behind your earlobe before giving it a gentle nibble. That makes you shift underneath him, causing him to shush in your ear.

“Hold still.”

You do as you're told, whimpering at the touch of his lips against your nape. A light kiss, one that makes you want to put your head back, which is followed up by a nibble. Logan does the same while trailing down your back. You feel his hands palm the globes of your ass while he does so, creating tiny circles with his thumbs.

You moan into your pillow, and you know you're embarrassingly wet now. Your cunt is pulsing with the need to have him inside you already. His fingers dip inside you, and you gasp in surprise. Logan's able to pump his thick digits into your aching hole while leaning over you again, taking another whiff of your perfume.

“Lift your hips up for me, baby.”

You struggle to move your hips as he’s still two fingers inside you, but he helps you, a firm hand on your hip. When he does so, he moves down to your clit. The two fingers coated with your wetness parted your folds, rubbing that sensitive bud. It was getting harder to do as you were told. Keeping still as he played with your pussy. Taking in how delicious you smelled with the perfume.

“Logan.” You murmured against your pillow, “Please…”

“Please? My lady's begging for me?” Logan lets out a short laugh, not stopping his fingers. “You want me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours, huh?”

“Please…” You were on the brink of tears, that familiar feeling in your stomach about to tip over. Logan didn't show you any mercy, making you sob against your sheets. His fingers rubbed your sensitive clit until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You ached for him to be inside, cunt pulsing for him to slip his cock in. Once again, the tip of his nose brushed against your ear lobe as well as his cock in your sex. Your body quivered as his chest was on your back, hovering over you for complete control.

“Think you can give me another?”

You didn't have time to answer as he started pounding into you. Sticky, wet sounds in your ears as you were pinned. Not having a single thought every time Logan's hips met with yours, mouth wide open as you were being fucked dumb. A hint of your drool staining the sheets.

The headboard banging against the wall, mattress squeaking as Logan kept going. Grunting in your ear, saying that your scent was even better after your orgasm. That he wasn't going to come until you squeezed around his thick cock. And he meant it when he rubbed against your pulsing clit. You shook, moaning at his touch and how his cock pistoned into you.

Logan was angled perfectly to where he started hitting your G-spot, causing your vision to get blurry. Still not stopping on the assault on your clit.

“Lo…Logan…” Your body was getting hotter, another climax on the horizon.

“You almost there, princess?” Your answer was only a whine, and that was good enough for him. “That’s it, that's it. Do it for me, baby.”

This orgasm was different. As you came undone, wetness coated Logan's cock, some dripping down your thighs and his own.

“Oh fuck-” Without warning, he shot up inside you. Grunting in your ear while his seed filled your cunt, mixing with your own arousal and trailing down your thighs as well. Logan lazily pumped into you to make sure you got it all while groping your ass.

You could hardly move with Logan on top of you. Thank goodness he didn't rest his total weight on you, or you'd be crushed. He waited a few moments before pulling out, leaving you to lie on your side, completely docile.

No words were said when he cleaned you up, towel between your legs as he kissed your forehead. You started getting coherent enough to realize the groceries were still out, but Logan said he already put them away for you.

With a sigh of relief, you glanced over at the perfume before reaching for your phone to look up the label. That's when your eyes went wide at the reveal.

Wade gifted you pheromone perfume.

No wonder Logan was acting unhinged all day. With his heightened sense of smell, of course something like this would affect him. That is definitely the last time you take a gift from Wade.

As you showed Logan what the perfume was, his brows furrowed in slight annoyance, calling him an asshole.

“But,” Logan folded his arms, glancing away from you. “I wouldn't mind if you wear this more often…”

[megankoumori]

In defense of a "Wicked Stepmother":

Sarah's Stepmother in "Labyrinth", named Irene in tie-in media, only gets about a minute of screen time before Sarah rushes off to her room in a soaked snit. Fanfic writers usually turn her into an evil bitch and even the manga sequel, "Return to Labyrinth", has her cold and abusive to Toby, her biological child. But here's the thing...

I think Sarah's mother gets a bum rap.

Dressing nicely for an evening out and having mild conflict with a teenager does not a Lady Tremaine make. And as someone who actually lived with a narcissistic, manipulative, emotionally abusive stepfather, I can tell you that Irene doesn't even come close to wicked step parent territory.

Backstory first. It's never spoken of in the film, but clues in Sarah's room tell us that her real mother is a stage actress who abandoned her and her father for another actor. Sarah idolizes her mother and tries to emulate her with play acting. Sarah's father met and married Irene sometime after Linda ran off, and Sarah, who thinks her mom walks on water, resents the hell out of Irene for taking her place. A place that Linda abandoned for another man.

She couldn't help it. He looked like David Bowie.

Let's look at her first alledged transgression. She won't let Merlin into the house. Instead she orders him into the garage. Heartless, we assume because we all love dogs and only the most soulless of monsters don't. But slow down. She didn't leave him out in the rain. She put him in the garage. Furthermore, Merlin is an Old English Sheepdog. Is he a nice dog? Sure, but he's also a breed that's notorious for being high maintenance and hard to keep clean and right now he's soaking wet and filthy. Irene isn't being cruel, she's trying to keep him from ruining the carpet.

So now Sarah and Irene are in the house about to have their confrontation. "Sarah, you're an hour late..."

Sarah lost track of time. Sarah is the one who screwed up. Irene has every right to be frustrated. For all we know, she and Robert were supposed to see a movie or meet someone and Sarah's tardiness wrecks their plans. Note, please, that while she is frustrated, she's not even yelling. My mom would have screamed bloody murder and then held it over my head for weeks.

"Your father and I go out very rarely..."

"You go out every single weekend!"

There is no way to confirm who is right on this. I will say Sarah is the one prone to hysterics and exaggeration, so it's not looking good for her.

"And I ask you to babysit only if it won't interfere with your plans."

I ask. Irene asks. She doesn't demand, and she doesn't expect Sarah to give up her previous plans.

"Well how would you know what my plans are? You don't even ask me anymore!"

Sarah, you were LARPing in a park by yourself. Furthermore, with the storm you would have gone home anyway.

"Well I assume you would tell me if you had a date. I'd like it if you had a date. You should have dates at your age."

Irene doesn't want Sarah to be a Cinderella stuck at home every night. She wants her to go out and have a social life. This is literally the opposite of the bedtime story Sarah tells Toby later.

Also, "I'd assume you tell me..." Irene might not be wording it in the best way here, but she wants Sarah to communicate with her. She wants them to have a relationship.

Then Robert enters the scene. "Sarah, you're home. We were worried about you."

WE were worried. As in both he and Irene. You think that's the reason she was waiting on the porch? Because their sixteen year old daughter is an hour past when she said she'd be home and now it's raining and getting dark?

It's not like she'd ever talk to a stranger.

Sarah runs up the stairs in a snit, not even acknowledging her father and leaving Irene dismayed. "She treats me like a wicked stepmother in a fairy story no matter what I say." Her voice isn't angry, it's hurt. She's making an effort to reach Sarah, but nothings working. She can't break through the tantrums and the anger and the hero worship of Linda.

Sarah is a fantasy junkie. It's all over her room. Her books are all fairy tales. Her dog and her teddy bear are named after figures from Arthurian legend. But she's wrapped herself in a different kind of fantasy, a toxic one. One where Irene, well meaning and kind, is one of the evil stepmothers from her fairytale books, while Linda is good and virtuous like one of the dead moms at the beginning. Except Linda isn't dead. She's shtupping a costar.

Part of Sarah's coming of age and maturity is rejecting Jareth, the stand in for her mother's lover and therefore finally rejecting following her mother's selfish path. We see her finally let go of Linda by putting her picture and clippings in the drawer. Hopefully, the next morning, after she picks the confetti out of her hair, she'll finally be able to start over with Irene.

[rosenclaws]

rainy days | Leopold Mountbatten x reader

summary: You run a small bookshop and expect a slow day when a storm rages through New York, until a very handsome stranger walks through your doors.

a/n: I watched Kate and Leopold and I am certifiably obsessed and totally normal. I apologize if any of his dialogue sounds off I'm not used to writing the way he talks. Anyways please indulge my new obsession and I hope you all like it!!

part 2

You sigh as you listen to the rain hit the windows of your little book shop. A hot cup of tea is sitting by your side as you flip through one of your books. You love your bookshop but today is definitely a slow one.

Though you do see people hustle past with their umbrellas, clutching their bags and dressed too nice for the rain. So for now you settle down for a quiet day. That is until the little bell rings, a sign someone has ventured through the storm to your little shop.

"Hello, Welcome in!" You say cheerfully as you look up from your book.

Your eyes widen as you see a man, a very handsome man, standing in the entrance way. His clothes soaked by the rain. Still he looks as put together as ever as he stands tall at your door. You notice the weird clothes he's wearing. It almost looks like a costume. His wet hair sticks to his forehead and you wonder how he got stuck out here without an umbrella.

"Forgive me, I am still unfamiliar with my surroundings and I appear to have gotten lost." You clock his accent immediately, a tourist perhaps? Though he smiled kindly you could tell he was confused.

"It's no problem, here come in." You hurry around the counter.

He silently shivers as he tries to stay away from the many books you have around your store. Fearing that he may ruin them with how much water was dripping off him.

"I have a few towels upstairs if you don't mind waiting." You offer, taking pity on the man.

"Not at all." He bows slightly as you leave the room which you think is a little weird but polite nonetheless. You grab a towel and rummage through your drawers before finding a pair of sweatpants and an old hoodie an ex boyfriend had left a while ago.

"Okay, I have a towel and some clothes that I think will fit you..." You trail off as you look up and see that he has taken off his jacket as well as his shirt.

Your brain short circuits for a moment as he turns around and it takes everything you have not to gawk like a creep. Water drips down his chest as he shakes his head to try and rid some of the water from his hair.

He meets your eyes and you both share a look. You can only hold his gaze for a moment before looking down at the ground, attempting to save yourself from any more embarrassment. You hand him the towel and clothes and gain the courage to look him in the eyes again.

"I apologize profusely, I did not hear you come down." He quickly grabs the clothes and you cough awkwardly, stealing a look at his bare chest.

"Bathroom is down the hall, you can change in there." He thanks you again and leaves you alone.

Oogling strangers isn't exactly polite or great for business but god was he handsome. Handsome and polite and an accent? It's almost too much. You hear a loud rumbling of thunder and watch the sky grow darker. Looks like the storm isn't going away anytime soon. You hear the bathroom door open again and you quickly try to busy yourself, choosing to go back to your book.

"I must apologize again, It was highly inappropriate for me to be," His neck turning a slight shade of red as he scratches the back of his head. The clothes fit him and it's almost a crime how nice he looks in a shirt and sweatpants.

"In such a state of undress."

"It's okay, you were probably freezing in those clothes so.." You smile warmly which he reciprocates.

"I truly appreciate your kindness." He glances around your shop, admiring the collection of books on your shelves.

"So, are you a tourist?"

"Oh, I have yet to introduce myself how rude. My name is Leopold, I grew in England but moved to New York." So that explains the accent, the ridiculously charming accent.

"Well Leopold, it's nice to meet you." You introduce yourself and hold out your hand. Instead of shaking it he takes it and kisses your knuckles. You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face.

"What a beautiful name, Is this your store?"

"Yeah, I bought it a couple years ago and well, I'm still here. All my friends think I'm crazy for opening a bookshop but I love it."

"Books are a wonderful thing, as a child I relied on books to occupy my time. Such intricate and beautiful worlds created from words on a page at the tips of our fingers. I think it's a very noble profession." He speaks so eloquently, his eyes filled with passion.

You rarely meet a man who has such an appreciation for books. He notices the book sitting on the desk.

"May I?" You nod your head and he picks up the book.

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," He smiles fondly as he flips through the page.

"I picked up a copy myself when it released before I left England. I thought it was one of the most imaginative and fantastic stories I had ever read." He flips through the pages, admiring the colorful drawings that adorn your copy. Gently, he closes the book and sets it down.

"Though I must admit, I have a new found respect for the book myself." There's humor in his voice though you don't quite get the joke.

"When it came out?" You question. The book came out in the 1800's, unless he just means a new release.

"Yes, It was quite difficult to get my hands on one but I managed."

There's something more to this man for sure. Even the way he talks is unlike anything you've heard before. The pieces start to fit themselves together as you take notice of every oddity surrounding this man. The clothes, the way he speaks, claiming to have been 200 years ago.

"You're not from here are you Leopold? Like 21st century here " You ask, he seems surprised at your question. He's surprised that you aren't calling him a lunatic. He admires how quick you are to accept the unknown. It's admirable.

"Quite the perceptive one, smart and beautiful." He flashes a smile and you swear you almost melt on the spot. He doesn't deny your claim and it makes you want to know more.

"I must admit it is a long story but seeing as there appears to be no end to the rain, perhaps I could tell you." You lean on the counter and rest your chin on your hand. He mirrors you, his brown eyes not shying away from yours.

"Tea?" You ask playfully. He stands up and offers you his hand. A spark electrifies your whole body as your hands touch.

"It would be my honor."

[heroes-among-us-all]

A Perfect Match

summary: Chisaki isn't looking forward to meeting his soulmate, at least not until he discovers that you are Quirkless.

tags: soulmate!au, fluff, fem!reader

It’s just so annoying. Even though he’s lived with it all his life, Chisaki swears he’ll never get used to seeing that godforsaken timer counting down. It’s always there, in the corner of his periphery, and it only ever disappears when he shuts his eyes and lets everything fade to black.  

A soulmate mark. That’s what it’s called. People have different variations of it—some know the first words their soulmate will ever speak to them, some have a red string tying them to their soulmate that only they can see, and others, like him, have been stuck with a timer since birth that tells him how much longer until he meets his soulmate for the first time.  

And based on how much time is remaining, it looks like he’ll be meeting his soulmate today.  

Chisaki isn’t excited. If anything, he’s dreading the encounter, and he just wishes it would hurry up and be over with. At least then, the timer will disappear, and it’ll be one less thing grating at his nerves. He doesn’t believe in the phenomenon of soulmates, he has no desire for trifling matters such as love, and for a man who loathes being touched, he can’t imagine it would work out anyhow.  

Much of the day goes as planned. He helps Pops with some paperwork, cleans up the office to keep all those pesky germs away, and Chisaki briefly wonders how he’ll even meet you, since he intends on staying home all day.  

“Chisaki,” Pops suddenly says. “Would you mind going out into town and buying me a few things? I wrote a list of what I need.”  

Ah. So, that’s how.  

“Of course,” Chisaki nods, and he puts on his jacket before slipping his shoes on by the door. “I’ll be back soon. It won’t take long.”  

Seriously, it really won’t. Regardless of the fact that he’s going to run into you, he has no intention of staying and chatting. He’s going to reject you right on the spot. Soulmates aren’t real, anyways. What a stupid notion, to think that someone’s greatest love can be predetermined.  

Chisaki adjusts his mask more tightly, then steps outside. He reaches the store quickly enough, and although he hates having to touch things that countless strangers have laid hands on, his gloves provide him with a thin layer of protection from all the filth.  

He tracks down everything he needs at a steady pace, and as he reaches for the very last item on his list, someone else reaches for it at the exact same time.  

Immediately, Chisaki recoils, and he manages to avoid touching a stranger’s hand. But right as he’s biting back the urge to grimace, he realizes that the timer—the same timer he’s had all his life—his finally disappeared.  

Ah.  

So, it’s you. Chisaki turns his head to the side and finds himself looking at a young woman, who is staring back at him wide-eyed and breathless. He has a pretty good idea of what’s going on in your head. You must have realized it, too.  

After more than two decades, he’s finally met his soulmate.  

You’re pretty. Chisaki can at least admit that much. You have nice features, you dress in a way that suggest you care about your appearance, and you have a pleasant, clean scent, which means that you take personal hygiene seriously—thank god.  

But all that being said, Chisaki still has no desire to strike up a relationship with you. He doesn’t enjoy being around people. He can’t even bear to touch people, not counting Pops, who is his family. Not to mention that he’s part of the yakuza, and from what he gleams, you seem to be an average citizen.  

There’s just no reality in which this would ever work out.  

“U-Um,” you stammer, visibly nervous. “Are you...? I mean, um... it’s you, right? You must be my... soulmate.”  

It’s a bit endearing how flustered you are, and for a moment, Chisaki feels slightly guilty about what he’s going to do.  

Still. It’s better to tell you the truth now rather than let you get your hopes up. 

“The timer,” Chisaki nods. “I have it too. Well, I did have it. Up until a few seconds ago, at least.”  

A smile blooms across your lips, and it tugs at his heartstrings a bit, because goodness, you really are adorable.  

“I knew it!” you beam. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this is really happening! I’m so excited! But I guess that was pretty obvious, haha. Sorry. I’m going to try to calm down now, but it’s just—this is just so—”  

Chisaki raises a hand. “Before you say anything else, I need to let you know that I have no interest in pursuing a relationship with you.”  

It only takes a second for your expression to sink. 

“...what?” you mumble softly. “But... we’re soulmates. I thought that means we’re supposed to be together for the rest of our lives. I didn’t mean that we should start dating right away, but at the very least, if we could start by getting to know each other...”  

“I’m sorry,” Chisaki says. “I don’t have much interest in romance. I prefer to keep to myself, and frankly, I’m not even sure I believe in soulmates. It all seems far too convenient. It was nice meeting you, but we’ll have to leave it here.”  

By the looks of things, you’re on the verge of tears. Chisaki isn’t a very emotional person, but he can’t fault you for getting your hopes up. This must have been something you’d been looking forward to for many, many years. If only your soulmate was someone else. It’s a pity. You seem like a very nice woman, and he hopes that you’ll find happiness one way or another. Just not with him.  

You swallow hard, just barely managing to hold back your tears. “I... understand. I’m sorry. I came into this with all these expectations, but I never stopped to think that the other person might not have been as excited as I was. I guess I was just really hopeful. I’m Quirkless, so... people have always thought less of me. I figured my soulmate would like me no matter what, but we’re pretty much strangers, so I don’t know what I was thinking. Anyways, I’m sorry again for bothering you. I’d ask your name, but it would probably just make the whole thing more painful.”  

You turn to leave, but in that moment, Chisaki’s eyes have gone completely wide.  

What did she just say?  

“Wait!” he cries out, and you reel to a halt, surprised by the outburst.  

Now it’s Chisaki’s turn to swallow. The roof of his mouth feels dry and uncomfortable, and he worries that perhaps his ears deceived him. 

“You’re Quirkless,” he breathes. “Is that... really true?”  

“I’m not sure who would lie about something like that,” you chuckle weakly. “It’s not exactly something to be proud of.”  

Wrong. You don’t even know just how wrong you are.  

In a world teeming with filth and sickness, those who haven’t been contaminated by the Quirk pandemic are a rarity. People like you are unblemished and pure, and... 

Shit. Chisaki is starting to believe that soulmates might be the real deal, after all.  

“It’s okay not to have a Quirk,” he says, and it’s insane how fast his heart is beating now. “No. It’s better not to have a Quirk. I much prefer it that way.”  

You press your lips together. “Are you making fun of me right now? Listen, I said I was sorry for bothering you—”  

“I’m not making fun of you. I’m being completely serious. Quirks... I’ve never liked them. Just the thought of them makes me sick.” He pauses, inhales sharply to collect himself, then lets out a heavy sigh. “The reason I turned you away is because I thought it would be impossible for us to have a relationship. I break out into hives the moment anyone touches me. I distance myself from people, and the thought of being intimate with someone has always repulsed me. And Quirks are largely to blame for that, because Quirks are a mutation. A disease. That’s why I didn’t think we had a chance. But now that you say you’re Quirkless... I’m starting to think differently.”  

You arch a brow, and it’s clear that you don’t understand where he’s coming from. Fuck. He hopes he isn’t scaring you off. He’s finally, finally found someone who he has an actual chance of being with, and he doesn’t want to ruin this.  

“If you don’t mind... would it be alright if I held your hand?” Chisaki asks breathlessly.  

Once again, you stare back at him in confusion, but it thankfully doesn’t look like you’re opposed to it. You reach out a hand, slow and hesitant, and at the same time, Chisaki peels off on his gloves, letting his skin breathe free.  

When your fingers meet his own, he lets out a soft gasp. Not out of disgust, not out of apprehension, but out of sheer relief.  

No hives. No uncomfortable tightness in his chest.  

You aren’t sick like the rest, which means he can touch you to his heart’s content.  

Chisaki would have liked to hold your hand for much, much longer, but out of fear of scaring you off, he reluctantly lets go and gives you some space.  

“I just wanted to confirm something,” he mumbles. “If it’s you... I’m able to touch you just fine. I don’t get sick. It looks like we’re soulmates for a reason.”  

The look in your eyes is far from judgmental, and when you finally muster up your next words, Chisaki can hear a little hiccup catch in your throat. 

“So... you really don’t mind that I’m Quirkless?” you ask.  

“Not at all. It’s just the opposite. I feel comfortable around you precisely because you’re Quirkless. That must be why we were fated to meet. Because we’re a perfect match.”  

Chisaki has never flirted a day in his damn life, but something he said must have tickled your fancy, because you blush and shyly avert your gaze.  

“I was really worried there for a moment,” you mumble. “It sounded like you wanted nothing to do with me.”  

“I’m sorry,” Chisaki frowns. “I was too quick to judge. I’m very particular about certain things, and I thought there was no chance. But I was mistaken. And if you’re still open to it... I would love the opportunity to get to know you better. Starting with your name. Would you mind telling me your name?”  

“I’m [Name],” you reply, and you flash him another bright, genuine smile. God, he swears he’s already fallen in love with that smile.  

“It suits you. I’m Chisaki. Chisaki Kai.” He takes a moment to think it through, and then, he does something he’s never done before in public.  

He removes his mask so that you can see his entire face.  

Your eyes widen. “Oh, wow. Chisaki, you’re so handsome! I didn’t realize my soulmate would be so gorgeous. Now I can’t help but feel self-conscious by comparison...”  

“I appreciate the compliment,” he chuckles. “But you’re beautiful. I thought so even before I found out you were Quirkless.”  

He watches, with great delight, as you blush yet again. You’re just so adorable. He never thought he would be thanking his lucky stars for having a soulmate mark, let alone one that caused him endless frustration for more than twenty years, but here he is.  

“I was going to head straight home after running some errands for my old man, but how about we sit outside somewhere and chat for a while?” he asks hopefully.  

Your smile returns, this time, wider than ever.  

“Sure!”  

As it turns out, Chisaki doesn’t get back home until much, much later, and he finds Pops waiting for him with his arms crossed.  

“Chisaki,” Pops frowns. “What was the hold-up? You’re usually so efficient when it comes to these things. I was expecting you back hours ago.”  

Normally, Chisaki would have apologized at great length for inconveniencing Pops. He is, after all, the man that brought him and raised him as his own. He loves and cherishes him, and will do anything in his power to repay him. 

But right now, Chisaki is up in cloud nine.  

“I met my soulmate,” he says, setting the shopping bags down. “Sorry, Pops. We got to talking for a while.”  

“Oh?” Pops lifts a brow, and tries—but fails—to hide his smirk. “But I thought you said you wanted nothing to do with them. You told me you didn’t believe in such things.”  

“Well, I changed my mind.”  

“I’ve never known you to be the type to do that. You’re stubborn to a fault. But I’m not complaining. It sounds like you’ve turned over a new leaf. So, then, tell me about this soulmate of yours.”  

For the second time that same day, Chisaki removes his mask—and it’s so that Pops can see his ear-splitting grin.  

“She’s perfect.”  

[st-danger]

Dew fuckin Rain real good right before a show but their timing is off and neither of them get to cum so they're just hard and wet and suffering on stage :(((((

It's their own fault, really. Their decision, their bad decision, and they can hardly be upset that their actions have consequences. However, they've always been overachievers, so- they find a way to be upset. Unbelievable to think something as unfair as this could happen to ghouls as wonderful as them. Life on Earth: full of woe and toil cruelly handed to ghouls as wonderful as them.

On the floor of the dressing room, on rough and cheap low pile carpet, Rain burns his knees while someone knocks on the door. Two sharp raps that make both Dew and Rain startle, throwing off the cadence of Dew's hips for a moment.

"Five minutes, you degenerates," comes the muffled voice from the hallway. Swiss, he thinks, though it doesn't actually matter who it is, since they'll dismiss it anyway. Dew especially can ignore anyone at any time.

"Yeah, we know," Dew huffs to Rain between thrusts, and begins to give it harder, faster.

Rain hangs his head, dropping down to his elbows because he can brace himself better against the rhythm that way. And then, to the door, "Five, yeah, got it," and there's a degree of clear difficulty with which the words are spoken, though he's sure that the messenger (who should be shot for messing up the rhythm earlier) has already stalked off. Voice obviously strained, but Dew has no shame about this, and it isn't like Swiss hadn't figured it out already. His hands tighten on Rain's slim hips, and he works towards pulling Rain back onto him to meet each roll of his hips. "C'mon," he urges, "touch yourself, we gotta- we gotta hurry up." He listens, adjusts so he braces himself fully on his left arm to free up his right, and reaches down, in between, pulling in time with what Dew gives him.

He's relentless, just this side of too much. Easier to slide in when he'd had Rain a few hours prior, though he hadn't been particularly nice then and there's an ache that accompanies the way he moves now. Not enough to wince, but enough to know he's going to feel it when he tucks himself into bed tonight. For now, the angle is good, his hand is slippery as it moves over himself, and-

Dew adjusts behind him, gets a hand in Rain's curls and gets one of his legs up, planting his foot so he has greater leverage. A part of Rain's mind goes utterly blank as the heat on his knees continues to burn, pulling on himself harder. Faster. Needier, the way Dew is acting. The backs of his knees are sweaty, and his hairline, too. The big regret will be that they've no option to shower or clean up properly, about to spent well over an hour sweating further under stage lamps and smelling of sex. A blessing, if you will, that the masks and uniform will cover the messy hair and pink, debauched faces. The uniforms are still hanging up, neat and unrumpled because they're considerate. Rain moans into the crook of his arm, fleeting thoughts about the shirt he'll need to sacrifice to get them both as presentable as possible drifting around the sharp shocks of pleasure every time Dew slams in, every flourish of his wrist around his head.

"They're gonna smell it on you," Dew grunts, getting a tighter grip of hair. Not quite mean, but far from nice. "Everyone's gonna know, aren't they? Yeah? Pretty little slut like you-" his voice breaks just for a moment before he's about to recover, and continues, "Couldn't wait, could you? Just had to have it? Wanted it this bad."

"Th'swas your idea," Rain slurs, and if he weren't so lost in it all, if he weren't as close as he is, it might have sounded more amused than petulant. "You're the one-"

"Can't help yourself," Dew continues, blatantly ignoring the opportunity to take ownership of his actions. Running his mouth, in his own little world. Talking more for his own benefit, more to work himself up further than it is to get Rain that much more keyed up. "Made for this, huh Rain? Make it worth my while now and, fuck, be good and maybe you'll get more of me later-"

A knock. Another one. And not just that, but a rattling of the doorknob as well.

"Hey, jackasses," comes Cirrus's voice. She's the only one able to sound that stern. "You better be dressed, we're supposed to be backstage already."

Much like waking up having missed an alarm, the shock of realizing just how quickly they've run out of time cascades down their collective spines like the worst, most needed cold shower. Panic, while sometimes a thrill, is most often a more efficient way to temper flames.

Dressing is a harried, awful disaster, with Dew pulling out quick enough they both cringe. Fingers fumbling on snaps and laces, cocks tucked awkwardly under waistbands because they're not yet soft enough to sit normal in their trousers anyway. Rain's knees are sore, Dew looks wild, and the dash to stage is as uncomfortable as it is embarrassing.

"Two hours," he says over the swell of music and the roar of the crowd, sliding a hand up Rain's chest to grab his throat while the stage is bathed in red light. Behind his bass, Rain aches.

[gojoidyll]

longing - aventurine x reader

warnings | angst / little comfort, aventurine is kind of mean but only to protect you, you and aventurine knew each other way back when, grammatical errors, etc.

Longing is such a miserable state of being despite having such a beautiful, gentle name.

Longing is how many would describe you whilst you travel with the express.

Longing is what you are just as much as how you are longing.

You are one in the same.

Many would ask what you longed for. What you were searching for. What you were waiting for.

You would only smile and tell them that its a secret, but only because it hurt too much to say aloud. And to be completely honest, you never knew that it would hurt in such a way when missing someone and wanting to see them again.

"So, how long do you plan to stay with the express anyway?"

You, March 7th, the Trailblazer, Welt, and Himeko had just made it to Penacony. A world of dreams. Originally, you planned on staying on the express. However, you thought that maybe, just maybe you would have some sort of prophetic dream or would see something along the lines of a sign to point you in the right direction.

"You never know who you would meet while dreaming, or-"

You heard the commotion at the front desk along with a familiar voice which was what caused you to trail off with your sentence. When you and March came to a stop in front of everyone.

"So, what do you say, friend? I'll take everything from here.

"Huh? Are you alright?"

March waved a hand in front of your face but you were too focused on the man in front of you.

"Ka-"

Just as you began to speak, the well dressed man turned to you. His eyes flickering with something akin to surprise before turning normal again. Relaxed.

"Oh, if it isn't you again. Never thought I would find you here of all places. Oh, and before I forget, I go by Aventurine now."

He added that last part for you. There was no need for old names it seems...

"R- right," you said, your voice a bit shaky, "it's been so long, thoufh. I've been looking for you everywhere. And now that-"

He raised his hand to stop you, "don't get me wrong here. It is nice to see you and everything, but please don't misunderstand, whatever we promised to each other back then doesn't matter. So why don't you stop wasting your life away and actually go do something with yourself."

"But-"

You reached out to him, but he already turned away, "anyway, I hope this friendship between the Astral Express and I goes well. Because I feel like we can benefit off of each other when the time comes."

You weren't sure what hurt more. Being told that the one person you were searching for wants nothing to do with you. Or still being stuck in that same state of longing.

part 2

part 3

[megistusdiary]

hello, this is the anon who sent the smoking w 2000s arle ask. I'm back with more brainrot

so, I've been thinking ab being her roommate.

the first time you saw her you kind of went into shock; how on earth did you end up living with someone like *her*??? she's tall, baggy black clothes draping on her slim, toned body only giving a hint of what lies beneath. you'd love to stare for hours, but her bright ruby eyes boring into your soul stop any hopes of that happening. the almost-scowl on her sculpted features is a little scary, but you didn't mind, quite the opposite in fact.

despite the instant butterflies she gave you, you never worked up the courage to properly speak with her. you of course shared greetings in the morning from time to time, agreed on cleaning and groceries when necessary, but it never got much further than that.

part of the reason for that, was the seemingly unending amount of girls she would bring home. you know you should be upset, but honestly, you just wish it was you. it's obvious she knows what she's doing, just from the sounds you hear through the thin walls, you so desperately wish you just had one chance with her, but your rational mind is well aware she's far out of your league.

that's what you think anyway. you don't realise it, but there's a pattern in the women arlecchino brings home: they all look rather like you. same hair type and colour, same wide eyes, and the same gorgeous smile.

she closes her eyes and she sees your face, hears your voice. she's absolutely whipped for you, and to be honest, she doesn't know what to do with all of these new feelings and sensations you give her.

she may seem frosty and aloof when you look at her, but when it comes to feelings, she crumbles. she knows you like her. she's seen the looks you give her when you think she isn't looking. thing is though, she's completely and utterly terrified of the way you make her feel. she's never been in a relationship before, and of course, she does the only logical thing: push those feelings down as far as she humanly can.

the two of you keep on like this for a few months, neither of you brave enough to change this precarious balance of a routine you seem to have built.

this state of limbo does eventually see an end though.

you're something of a recluse, often opting to spend your nights at home, busying yourself with your studies. one night however, you don't really have that as an option. you owe a favour to a friend, and she's decided to take the opportunity to have you come out to a campus party with her. she declares that you "need to have fun and get out more", and encourages you to "get laid". you don't know if you're interested in anyone but your gorgeous roommate, not enough to make the effort to hook up anyway.

you dress yourself up nicely regardless. it's true you don't get out much, so you figure you might as well doll yourself up for once. while the stares you feel once you arrive are certainly expected, you can't say you're a fan of the attention. you need a drink

a cup or two of something fruity, and you're feeling a bit better, tipsy enough to be a little giggly and bold, but not enough to do anything you'll regret tomorrow.

you sit in a corner, watching the action for a while. you aren't quite enjoying yourself, but the night hasn't been so bad thus far. everything flips on its head, however, when you see *her*. what is arlecchino doing here? it's no surprise considering how often she has nights out, but a part of you was hoping that you wouldn't run into her. you really weren't interested in seeing her charm another girl into bed.

the hole in your stomach only expands further when she walks over to you and sits herself next to you. she's blushed a little pink: she's had a little to drink too.

when you meet her eyes, the looks she gives you is something you've never seen from her, you don't think. her gemstone eyes meet yours, and they glint in a way that's alluring in a way you just can't look away from.

the two of you begin chatting, not really about much. it feels a lot easier when you've got a little drink in your system, though.

her eyes flit down to your lips a few times, maybe, you don't want to get too excited. the way she jokes with you could almost feel flirtatious, but you again, you don't want to raise your hopes too high. she moves closer and closer to you, until, all of a sudden, her dangerous eyes meet yours, dangerously close to meeting your lips with hers.

"baby, can I kiss you? I've haven't been able to take my eyes off you all night."

you barely have to breathe out a "yes" before her lips are on yours, and her calloused hands are on your sensitive hips.

she leads you up to a bathroom upstairs, and fuck, her fingers are like magic. you never thought a woman could take you that high with just her hands.

tomorrow it's going to be awkward as anything, but right now, with her lips on your neck and her hands scratching your thighs, you really couldn't care less.

oughhh ohhh thank you anon i love womanizer!arle

i'll be thinking about this today...

and, consider, the aftermath isn't so bad. you both get home, somehow, and she's put you in your bed, nice and snugly. she took your makeup off for you and fixed your hair, even if she was a little drunk.

i bet if you two confess, she's more than happy to take you out on a date. but she wants to do it right. she wants it to be perfect because she doesn't just want you to share her bed, she wants your heart 🤭

[kalims]

Oh my goddess, orders are open! Ahem, ANYWAYS— I wonder if I could have an Idia with a fem or gn s/o who is introverted and generally closed-faced, being a sweetheart and even shy with him, pretty please?

• Remember to drink water and take care of yourself correctly, kisses <3

– Mel 🌙🩵✨

dress,

premise.

idia forever thought his cause of death would be the permanent termination of his end game account—which in theory, is now proven wrong at the existence of a brand new thing that just might obliterate his heart.

note. thank you mel <3 you too. i, for one will gladly accept kisses from u and idia (he's downbad here LOL)

idia is having a strangely, familiar sensation.

for example—the fact that his heart is palpitating so fast is making him afraid that he'll get the same sense of doom he frequently gets whenever this happens. like when he's the one that the professor chooses to answer a question up front. just his luck cause it absolutely sucks in real life just as much as his chances of winning that rare character.

but no, there isn't an impending sense of doom that sends him to the edge. no cold sweat forming on the skin of his neck, nor does it protrude from his clammy hands. it's weird, he feels warm rather than the cold it usually accompanies.

he needs to visit a doctor.

he gulps thickly. sending a lightning fast glance at your direction then averting it even faster. oh my god, your hand just brushed against his.. was it intentional? no, no—it mustn't be. you wouldn't waste your time doing that.

but you might even look more tenser than he is.

despite the attempt at flushing down the tightness in his throat, his words still break off into a croaky stammer that just sends his face into a grimace because, did he sound like that? "I'm.. I'm really sorry, you didn't have to do this," he says, looking away with those eyes that just screams a mixture of 'I hate it all.' and 'I'm so scared.'

his eyes in comparison to yours, dull significantly in terms of greatness. cause as rare as it is for your eyes to meet, he'll always marvel at the lush hue your eyes are colored with—and god, your lashes. so pretty, so, so pretty.

he sulks. he doesn't deserve this.

"it's alright," you answer in response, voice quiet but it's the only thing he ever hears despite the myriad of people quite nearly squishing the both of you. the crowd is large, and noisy. so he isn't sure why he's suddenly the greatest listener when you speak. "I'm glad you thought of... inviting me along, I know you're quite passionate about it."

passionate is not a strong enough word, it could be an incorrect word to use even. he supposes it's just a nice feeling to excel—be good at something.

but with how hot his heart is probably burning, maybe passionate really is the right word.

for you that is.

most likely idia's ideal type of player two <3 someone he can keep up with, not too fast and certainly not too slow. but either way, he’s probably having a heart attack at whatever you do. literally just sleeping? his heart… playing with him? please match avatars at once or he will combust. (and yes, he is hinting even though you already match everywhere else. had a house in a game, got married in a game.)

don’t even pull out the fact he buys you the currency to match and you feel bad cause he thinks it’s too cute. you need to stop or else he will buy you more.

speaking of more in game terms, he surprisingly garners a lot of attention online maybe because he’s endgame in every single account he’s made and many people like money so… there are many attempts at ‘rizzing’ him up but in the end he’s provoking them to screenshot it and report them as online daters.

^ says THE online dater.

still reports people if they flirt with you, but compared to his. not only is it a file for online dating he somehow dug up the dirt, the monstrous things they did like… 3 years ago and now they’re gonna get suspended. It’s concerning since he was talking with you animatedly during it and he somehow also exposed them all in 10 minutes.

did the see you again trend in secrecy cause he would rather leap down a hole to hell than let people see it. In any case… if it isn’t obvious he’s the lala, you the okok.

deluded himself, is convinced that he’s actually the nonchalant, ‘cool’ one but all he is, is a literal puddle. is still solid when standing but will be putty in your hands in SECONDS.

idia is secretly really proud of himself whilst being like: how did i even pull them. cause when he looks at your face when you’re talking to other people. he’s actually kind of scared cause it’s a really wondrous thing you never once looked at him like that… (please save his mind too. he’s trying to convince himself that you must be like this, soft person he knows to other people too and not just him because that’s just crazy right haha.. hahahaha…)

the type to tell you to stand back during raids, challenges, boss fights, etc…  that all you need to do is be there, and that he’ll solo it for you and you can claim your rewards even though he gave you the rarest, strongest equipment in respective games which won’t be much use at this point cause he insists he do it for you, and sulks all day if you don’t let him.

stay at home couple >>>

will order every single thing you crave during those times he’s too shy to consider date nights, and you too so it’s like an unspoken thing. he honestly plays better when you’re inside his room, even if it’s just laying on his messy bed scrolling on your phone or munching on something.

it’s just complete, comfortable silence.

except for the time one of you accidentally makes an indirect flirty comment and now the room could be considered a sauna from the literal steam only two people emitted. 

really, really, really, REALLY, likes it when your head is on his shoulder.

“─ean.. no one really asked for it, the nerf was completely unnecessary and─” the words poured out of his mouth, something uncontrollable that he couldn’t stop. there is something about you that just kicks down the layer of anxiety on him. comfortable might be the right word, even if you don’t talk that much (which is surprising cause he ends up being the talkative one and you always assure him that you like to listen.) somehow the thought: am i too annoying? doesn’t really pop up like usual.

in fact, he’s excited to ramble all about it. excited to hear your thoughtful hums, excited to see your attentive eyes on him since the first word he’s said─but it isn’t. because he looks up and you’re blinking haphazardly, thrice in a second and before he panics to shut his mouth he feels the soft slump of your head against the curve of his shoulder.

oh my god, oh my god, oh my g─

if idia had half of his mind he would scream instinctively at the weight he isn’t really accustomed to feel. actually, even if he did have his entire brain connected, and his thoughts coherent he still would. but he bites the inside of his cheek cause despite the chaos that just erupted in his mind which is somehow simultaneously blank, and swirling.

and he remembers midst his confusion that you are,

asleep.

you’re asleep on his shoulder

you’re asleep.

asleep on his shoulder.

on. his. shoulder.

he resorts to the screech in his head.

his shoulder─is so terribly stiff right now to the point where he thinks that sleeping on a hard, wooden surface would be surely more comfortable rather than where your head lays. he makes an effort to relax his muscles, tell himself that it’s only you and that there’s nothing wrong but there is something wrong because it’s you! idia dares to sneak a peek at you and your closed lids only confirm your unconscious state.

and careful with each nudge his movement makes sends to your head. idia can’t resist the hands that creep up his face and bury it, to hope all the embarrassment and whatever he’s feeling right now absorbs it right out of his face because god. he knows he looks like he just ate 10 bowls of lilia’s cooking.

he would scream, he really would. a second thought but you’re on his shoulder!

you, who rarely touches him too much.

on him.

him, who gets too flustered to be touched by you.

so he feels pretty obligated to just suck it up cause he’s enjoying the moment even if you aren’t conscious right now and he sure as hell is going to, for as long as he can.

idia releases a deep sigh, long and wistful because he’s gonna die before you even wake up.

[kiragghar]

Pochacco

Pairing: Haruka Sakura x fem!reader

Kir's notes: tbh I watch Windbreaker only for Togame Jo, turns out I like the anime. I rely on the wiki and the info I got so far from the anime for this, so bear with me. Enjoy :)

Tags: out of character, vague end, y/n has a crush on Sakura, first date hangout.

Word count: 924

You've always liked Sakura Haruka. How he looks, his white hair making his yellow iris stand out. You don't understand why your friends and teachers see him as weird, disgusting even. Making him the blame for everyone's problems. Wallet gone? Blame him. He fought to protect himself. His fault. You can't tell about your little crush to anyone, not even your best friends who hate him, which is all of them.

You stopped seeing him when you started attending high school. Turns out he moved to another school. You feel a bit sad but you understand. You hope that he will be accepted in his new school and you wish to see him in the future. 

One day you got dragged by your friend to East Wind shopping street after school, window shopping the beautiful dresses and cakes. And while they are window shopping, you spot someone from the corner of your eye. You looked back and you saw Sakura with his new friends. It's not normal to see him around a bunch of guys who're talking to him, like a friend. You stared at him for a while until your friend called. 

"(Y/n) What're you doing?"

"Oh... Nothing... I was just... Thinking that's all" 

"Wait, isn't that the freak from middle school? Can't believe he actually has friends,"

"Huh... Oh... Yeah,"

"Bet he learns nothing from Furin,"

"What?"

"You know those uniforms they're wearing? They're from Furin High. School filled with a bunch of idiot delinquents. Too much until there are no teachers there,"

"Wait, no teachers?"

"Yeah, now let's go, I don't want to be in the place with freaks like them,"

She said and dragged you by the hand to another area. You wish you could just say 'hi' to Sakura, or wave at him. Instead, he didn't even look at you, not a single glance. But at least his friends accept him. 

~•~•

The next day you decided to go to the shopping street yourself. In hopes of seeing him again. You waited and waited until you saw him. You feel your heart thumping hard, legs feel heavy to move. But you approached him anyway, it's now or never. You called him and he looked at you. 

"Sakura, hi"

"(Y/n)?"

"Yeah,"

"Oh... Hi,"

"So how's it been?"

"Good,"

"I uh... I was wondering if you want to meet up and... Catch up?"

"Huh?"

"Only the two of us, no one else, promise,"

"Uh... Okay?"

"Great, can I have your number?"

"Sure,"

You both exchanged phone numbers and parted ways. 

~•~•

"So... How's school?"

"Good,"

"Is Furin really filled with delinquents?"

"No..."

You initiate a conversation with him as you both walk through the streets of East Wind. You could've picked another place but you wanted to see more of East Wind. Until you saw a Sanrio gashapon machine outside a store. 

"Oh Sakura, do you want to play that gashapon over there?"

"Uh... Sure,"

You dragged him by the hand to the gachapon machine. You opened your wallet and pulled out two 100 yen coins, handing one to Sakura. 

"Here, you go first,"

You said to him. He inserted the coin and turned the knob and took the plastic capsule. 

"Don't open it yet, we'll open it together,"

It's your turn. After you get the capsule you stand up. You both opened it and you got a pochacco keychain. He, on the other hand, got a pompompurin one. 

"What do you get?"

"Oh... This guy... Why does he have a butthole?"

"Pompompurin... It's of his design, silly. I got pochacco, he reminds me of you,"

"Huh?"

"He's white and black, like your hair, hehe…”

He blushed after hearing your words, hard. You felt your heart skip a beat seeing his blush, never in your middle school years have you seen him like this.

~•~•

He's kind enough to walk you back to your house, although he said that he lives around his school. 

“Thank you Sakura, for today, it was nice, maybe we can maybe… hangout another time?”

“Sure…”

“And thank you for walking me home, you don't have to but… thank you, hehe,”

“Yeah, no problem,”

“Oh, and there's something I want to tell you,”

“Hm?”

Here goes nothing. 

“I like you, your eyes are pretty and your hair makes you… you. And you're kind, a good guy… Yeah…”

Your face feels hot while you confess. There was an awkward silence between you two after that. He looked at you, red as a beet. 

“I uh… I'm sorry,”

“It's fine, I… Are you okay with somebody like me?”

“Huh? Oh, I'm fine, why?”

“Oh, nothing…”

“Hm, you go home safely okay? Text me when you're home,"

“Okay…”

You waved at him while he walked away. 

You didn't get a text from him but you ended up going on a second date and started dating ✧⁺⸜(●˙▾˙●)⸝⁺✧

~•~•

Bonus (it takes place a year after that date)(idk I just want to write this): you wake up beside him, stirring for a bit and sitting up. 

You got permission from your parents to date him and now you're staying in his place for the spring break.

You looked beside you, seeing your sleeping boyfriend while having his arms around your waist. He must've done that in his sleep. You place your hand on top of his head, ruffling his hair a bit. A few minutes later he opened his eyes slowly and blinked a few times

“Good morning Sakura, how's your sleep?”

You asked him. He hums a little and nods.

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Seven - Halloween

W/C: 10K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Or where you show up to the town's biggest Halloween Bash and you unexpectantly take on the roll of a babysitter.

A/N: this is a long one..and tbh some of it isn't edited...but i'm super excited about this one but also nervous.

Masterlist

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Bass bumped through the unfamiliar house, vibrating all the way down the driveway and to the street where you stood.  Shouting could be heard, no doubt a collection of drunks getting overly excited about something usually mundane.  Fog smothered the driveway, a decision you felt was made by someone sober at the time of setting it up only to neglect the fact that everyone would be wasted by the time it got dark, sending people tumbling down the driveway in their drunken state.  It did add to the atmosphere though, a nice touch that gave it that eerie, spooky feel the owner was probably going for.  

As you trekked up the lengthy and steep driveway, a mock graveyard sat to the right, taking up the space that would usually be the front yard.  Fake limbs stuck out of the dirt and splatters of blood painted the plastic headstones.   A lonely skeleton sat propped up against one, his arm hanging around it as if it were his good friend.  Some pumpkins appeared to be slaughtered and littered throughout the yard, the guts surely rotting in the grass and in one of the trees, hung a hopefully fake body, swaying in the chilly breeze.

From what you had heard, the owners went all out every year, Halloween night being their specialty.  The closer to the house you got, the louder the music and the louder the voices got.  Donnie had told you that it would be a rager but you severely underestimated her words and took them as a joke.  You were already hesitant to even attend but now, you were fully questioning if you should even dare to step through the door.  It’d be smart to turn around now and go home, maybe watch a few movies and indulge in that candy you’d bought and placed in a large bowl on the coffee table at home.  Half of it was gone of course, you stealing a piece here and there throughout the past week.  You could stuff your face with the rest if you left now.  

No. 

You had to be brave and walk through that door with confidence.  Even if it was fake.  You were never going to meet new people if you kept hiding away in your tower.  This town was never going to feel like home if you didn't start treating it like it.  Donnie was the closest person you had to a friend and as much as you appreciated her, she was more than half your age and had a whole family already.  She mentioned that people ‘your age’ would definitely be at this party, everyone went to this party.

You can’t miss it.  She assured.

But on another hand, no one would miss you anyway, no one ever did.  Even if they did know of you.  There was no harm in trekking back down the driveway and rushing home to snuggle up in your pajamas, right?

No, you have to do this.  You have to push yourself out of your comfort zone even if it feels like you're diving off a cliff.  But what if everyone stares at you?  And whispers about how they didn’t invite you?  Donnie promised anyone who’s anyone attends this party, even people from a few town’s over who hear about it from a friend of a friend.  So why couldn’t you shake the feeling that you just didn’t belong?  That you were intruding.  

Everyone’s gonna hate me.

It was especially embarrassing that you were wearing a Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz costume.  It wasn’t even all that out there but you felt so uncomfortable without your standard wardrobe.  You felt as if your ruby red glittery heels would suddenly draw unwanted attention, your pigtails making a mockery out of you even if just for the costume.  Everyone dressed up so why were you the exception?  Why were you the only one they would single out, especially in such a common Halloween costume?  You were sure there would probably be much more flamboyant costumes, ghouls and goblins covered in blood, zombies with ungodly amounts of face paint, and even vampires with those ridiculous plastic teeth.  No one made fun of them so why were you so insecure?

Every possible outcome ran through your brain while you stalled on the doormat.  That is until two men dressed in chicken suits bursted through the door, cackling while they set up for a smoke break on the front porch, completely missing you as you stood there terrified.  They leaned over the railing as they went on, slurring about how crazy it was that someone had somehow punctured a hole in the keg, a seemingly impossible task.  

You took the opportunity to slip in through the cracked door, gently closing it behind you as you entered the chaos that was the famous Knife’s Edge Halloween Bash.  Strobe lights flashed in the corners of what you could make out as the living room and the regular light bulbs in the ceiling were all switched out for purple and green, adding to the ambience.  The floor was hidden beneath a sea of people dancing their hearts out to Thriller by Michael Jackson, some attempting to actually perform the dance, and others simply flailing their limbs around and hoping for the best.  

A rather convincing mummy was stealing the show, everyone else creating a circle around him as he danced like no one was watching.  Not one person glanced your way, either too intoxicated to notice or just unbothered seeing as there were already over a hundred people occupying the house.  The line of cars you’d seen up and down the street should have given that away but to be fair, you were too busy running circles in your head and rehearsing how you were going to walk in.  All of that went straight to the garbage once you saw the nature of the place.  

Everyone was too caught up in having fun to take note of a timid Dorothy sneaking through the front door.  Fun.  Something you couldn’t see yourself having unless you had at least a drink or two in you.  It’s sad but it was the only way to loosen up around such a large volume of people. Sobriety was not an option unless you wanted to remain an anxious fly on the wall.  

The only issue was finding the source of alcohol, more than likely in the kitchen which you had yet to locate.  In order to get anywhere, you would have to weave through the crowd of sweaty bodies, the smell of tequila and beer already filling your nostrils just by standing a few feet away from them.  

Taking a deep breath, you clutch your little wicker basket close to your body and begin squeezing in between people with a polite ‘excuse me’ accompanying every accidental touch.  Along the way you pass a preppy cheerleader, a few stereotypical vampires, a cowboy and a cow, a dentist, and some guy with a fake chainsaw covered in fake blood.  You’re finally able to see your destination just through a large archway, relief already finding you as you inch closer and closer. 

The kitchen’s fluorescent lighting is a major contrast to the purple and green throughout the rest of the house.  It still follows the spooky theme, however, with an orange tablecloth draped over the island and purple and orange streamers hanging from the doorway.  On the island sits a large punch bowl filled with mysterious red liquid along with a stack of red cups and a few choices of liquor next to it.  A bowl of pretzels and some Halloween themed cupcakes are placed next to that, and at the other end, is a bucket of candy along with some various kinds of chips.  

Hanging from the chandelier is a homemade ghost using a torn sheet, the eyes and mouth filled in with sharpie.  The floor is sticky as you slowly make your way forward, most likely the mysterious liquid that had been spilled several times throughout the night already.  More shouting can be heard from the living room, some kind of dance off being announced that you would gladly hide from.  So far, you didn’t recognize anyone although it would be pretty difficult to seeing as everyone was dressed up.

Gingerly, you grab a cup and scoop the smallest amount of the mystery liquid in.  Upon taking the tiniest sip, you can determine that it's some kind of jungle juice.  A hangover in a cup.  With disgust written on your face, you discreetly throw out the remaining juice in the sink, instead opting to take a shot or two to loosen up.  Maybe just one for now.  You learned your lesson when taking four straight tequila shots at a time and didn’t need a repeat.  Especially at a party with several hundred people as witnesses.

So you fill the bottom of your cup with some whiskey, a generous shot.  Throwing it back, it goes down a lot smoother than that tequila had, the burn being mild but still causing your face to twist.  The cup is discarded in the trash, cutting yourself off before you can get ahead so as not to get absolutely wasted within minutes.  If you had an appetite, you’d snatch one of those delicious looking cupcakes but unfortunately, you needed to pace yourself.  Nerves and alcohol didn't make for the most stable stomach and you were already feeling queasy just from the mere thought of having to socialize with strangers.  

Exploring further into the house, you exit through the other archway leading into a dining room that displays even more food than the kitchen, a whole buffet laid out for guests including potato salad, macaroni salad, various horderves, snack mix, a giant bowl of M&Ms, and more.  A dream for a child, dinner and dessert all in one.  

A few partygoers were scooping some food onto their plates, chatting about who knows what while you moved on to the next room which appeared to be the family room.  The TV played some kind of horror film while absolutely no one watched it, the room almost empty aside from a couple in the corner making out.  

A few pops and some celebratory yells are heard just out the back sliding door, drawing you in.  The closer you got,  you could see someone dressed as a scarecrow holding a bottle of champagne overflowing onto the deck.  You were curious as to what everyone was celebrating but got cold feet when you reached for the handle, your hand glued to it but not putting any effort into actually sliding it open.  Just as you decided you were going to chicken out and find a corner to hang out in instead, someone points at the door, outing you, causing your blood to run cold in embarrassment.  When the scarecrow turns around, you can see that it's Donnie, face paint pulling her whole look together.  

At the sight of you, her face lights up, hands thrown up in excitement as the champagne she’s holding sloshes over and further coats the deck.  She doesn’t seem to mind, as she hands off the bottle to someone else and makes her way over to the door, sliding it open.  Your cheeks begin to feel hot as people stare at the interaction, unwanted attention that you could’ve escaped had you been quicker.  

“You made it!”  She just about squeals, giving you a tight squeeze.  

She had clearly had a few drinks, unafraid of any affection as she previously stated that she hated friendly affection of any kind, more prone to use her words to show appreciation.  But you didn’t mind, Donnie was the one person you were comfortable with and your one friend so if she happened to show affection while under the influence, so be it.  And maybe by her doing so, you wouldn’t appear to be such a freak to what seemed to be her friends.  Maybe it would grant you acceptance into their circle.  

“I made it.”  You repeat with a polite smile.

“So we were just popping some champagne we found.”  Donnie explains.  “No rhyme or reason, we just found it inside and thought, hell lets just go at it.”

Nodding, you try to appear as enthusiastic as possible, covering up your anxiety to the best of your ability.  People were still staring at you and it was proving difficult to just ignore it, holes practically being burned into you.  A few of them you recognized as regulars at the bar but the rest were complete strangers.  Either way, you were intimidated.  

“You want some?”  Donnie offers to which you begin shaking your head frantically.

“No, no, I’m okay!  I already had something and I have to drive later anyway.”  You explain.

Donnie nods understandingly before starting a dreadful introduction to the group.  She points out Brian, Sam, and Wyatt, her sons who were fully grown, the oldest Brian, being around thirty.  You didn’t catch who was the youngest or middle since Donnie was talking so fast.  Then she reintroduces you to her husband, Nathan, who you had previously met at the supermarket though Donnie didn’t seem to remember in her current state.  Then there were the owners of the house, Crystal and Gabriel, a very nice couple in their forties who made Halloween their night and everyone knew it.  Apparently Thanksgiving was Donnie and Nathan’s holiday according to a little comment uttered by Crystal.  There were what seemed to be a dozen more introductions though you couldn’t recall every single person.  You only remember Donnie skimming by an introduction to Jett’s mom, Kristy who seemed like a lovely woman.

Thankfully, once everyone was acquainted with you, they seemed to move one rather quickly and continued on with their festivities.  A fire pit sat in the middle of the deck, crackling away while a few individuals rested on the chairs circling it, warming themselves up.  Some orange lights were wound around the railing accompanied by some fake cotton spiderwebs.  Everyone held a drink in their hand except you and you were starting to regret not at least carrying your empty cup with you to occupy your awkward hands.  Rookie mistake.

Your breathing becomes increasingly shallow with each passing second, panic settling in as you attempt to remember how to act like a person.  You almost contemplate rushing off to the bathroom to hide but quickly scrap the idea, knowing Donnie may take notice.  Instead, you stupidly shuffle your feet in place, trying to ground yourself with no luck.  

In your inner turmoil, you can vaguely hear everyone else engaging in conversation about their lives or some silly story.  Something you didn’t care to tune into as your inner monologue chants at you to run.  Even with the one shot that you thought would relax you, you still feel your shoulders tensing and your jaw tightening anxiously.  If anyone were to initiate small talk with you right now, you’d come off like a dunce, thoughts unable to form gracefully.  Tonight was definitely a bad idea and you should’ve just stayed home where you knew your place.

Uncomfortably, you remain standing as everyone passes around the champagne.  There was no way to dismiss yourself without seeming like you were rude and awkward.  This was hell.  

“Okay, elders!”  You hear a familiar voice from around the corner, steps clunking up the deck stairs.  “We got your drugs, now pay up.”  

Jett emerges, a second pair of steps heard behind him.  He’s dressed like a greaser, hair slicked back as he wears a white shirt tucked into his tight jeans.

“We got the goodies!”  Eddie singsongs from behind him, dangling a plastic bag full of weed.  

Eddie seems to be dressed as…himself?  With a bit of smudged eyeliner.  His torso is covered with his standard black leather jacket and he’s pretty much wearing what he wears in his day to day.  Except when he dramatically flings his leather jacket at Jett, he sports a very revealing cut off shirt, all ripped and torn.  And his fingernails are painted black.

“Jeez, Eddie!  You’re gonna catch a cold, put that back on or go inside!”  Donnie scolds.

“‘M fine.”  He mutters, tossing the weed at Jett who just barely catches it as he drops Eddie’s jacket to the floor.

Donnie sighs, giving up on the argument seeing that Eddie was too stubborn to listen.  Suddenly you feel yourself warm up, the chill October air no longer pinching at your cheeks as they grow hot again.  Not out of embarrassment this time. 

“Gon’ get ‘nother beer.”  Eddie mumbles, stumbling toward you though he doesn’t realize it yet.

“That kid gives me a headache and he’s not even mine.”  Donnie says.

“Hey!”  Eddie whines, turning back toward the group mid stride.  “You claimed me ‘s one ‘f your own, ‘member?”  He points at her.

Several people chuckle at the scene while Donnie rolls her eyes and waves him off.  He was clearly a lot more intoxicated than everyone else.  His waddle toward the sliding door is evidence enough.  

“Drink some water, boy.”  Nathan advises.

“‘Rink some water.”  Eddie mocks in a high pitch to himself while hiccuping before colliding into your shoulder.  “Oh shit.”

Stumbling backwards, you stabilize yourself while his hands reach out and rest a bit too comfortably on top of your shoulders, heavy handed.  Almost as if he were using you to keep himself up.  When you dare to glance up, you’re met with heavy, glazed over eyes, bloodshot and decorated in smeared black liner.  His lips paint a perfectly content smile as he sways back and forth, unbalanced.

“Bambi.”  He cooes.

“Hi.”  You whisper, startled like a mouse.

“Heyyy.”  He draws out eyes becoming even heavier if possible.

“Um—“

“Munson, get off ‘er.”  Jett laughs, shoving Eddie to the side.  He manages to save himself from face planting into the deck, leaning himself against the side of the house.

“Should kick ‘yr ass.”  Eddie mutters, glaring at Jett.

“No one wants you leanin’ on ‘em like that!”  Jett defends.  “Hey, Bambi.”  He greets you.

At this, Eddie appears enraged, his face visibly going red as he shoots Jett a glare that no one would want to be on the receiving end of.  Everyone else seemed to have moved on, paying no mind to Eddie’s sudden shift in mood.

“Hi, Jett.”  You reply, a friendly grin gracing your lips.

With a grunt, Eddie pushes off the wall and storms inside, evidently pissed about something.  Jett shares the same confused expression as you, shrugging while he starts asking how you are, if you’re enjoying the party, and if you’d seen the huge array of food they had out yet.  You answer all of his questions to his satisfaction but mentally, you’re trying to track Eddie down.  Trying to understand what set him off and made him leave with such irritation.  Had this been the first week you met him, you would’ve dismissed it as his normal temper but now that you’d known him for almost two months and gotten to know how his emotions function, you knew better. 

He had also clearly been under the influence which could mean nothing happened and his emotions were just sensitive.  But you had a strong suspicion that there was a definite reason he abruptly got angry and rushed inside.  No one else seemed to notice, aside from you and Jett.  And he obviously paid no mind and didn’t intend on going after Eddie so maybe you were missing something.  Or maybe everyone was also blinded by their intoxication and you were the only sound minded individual in the group right now.

“Oh and then—“

“I think I’m gonna head inside, it’s kinda cold out here.”  You interrupt Jett’s tangent on his and Eddie’s journey down the road to collect the weed they had been sent to pick up.

“Oh well just take this.”  He says, snatching up Eddie’s jacket off the ground and handing it to you.

You should’ve come up with a different excuse though to be fair, you didn’t think he’d hand you Eddie’s jacket.  He was supposed to follow your lead and let you go inside.  Wasn’t he concerned about Eddie too? 

“T-thank you.”  You clutch the jacket in your hand, draping it over your forearm.

“Yeah!  So we were just walking—“

“Jett, I’m sorry I’m gonna run to the bathroom, okay?”  You cut him off again.

You felt bad for seeming so uninterested in what he had to say but you couldn’t go much longer without knowing if Eddie had gotten himself into trouble.  He was super out of it from what you could tell and it was eating away at you.  It only made it worse that he was so angry and if you were the most sober one at the party, it would be in your hands if something happened to him and you knew he had run off.

“Okay—“

Before Jett can get another word in, you spin on your heel and rush inside, the music still blaring and everyone still screaming from the living room.  The whole house felt like it was vibrating, your body buzzing as the bass dropped.  That same couple still remained in the corner making out, their stamina impressing you.

Entering the kitchen, there’s no sight of Eddie, only a few guests topping off their drinks and toasting to themselves loudly.  Realistically, you should take another shot to calm your nerves but this nightmare of an evening needed to be cut short and you would need to drive home as soon as you found him and returned him to the group.  

Dreadfully walking yourself back into the living room where the heart of the party beats, you focus on each individual, attempting to spot the one dressed in all black with almost no shirt, tattoos, and a head full of brown curls.  It proves to be more difficult since the lighting was so dim and the strobe lights left you seeing spots.  

Everyone seems to be having the time of their life and here you are, worried sick about someone who never thinks twice about you.  Even before he arrived you were having the worst time and wanted to go home immediately.  Halloween would’ve been perfect if you stayed home where you couldn’t make a fool of yourself in front of people.  

“Tequila!”  A woman dressed as a slutty maid shouts, carrying a tray full of shots past you, only eliciting a gag from the back of your throat at the smell.  “No tequila for you then.”  She jokes, you shaking your head as you cover your nose.

It was obvious that Eddie wasn’t going to hit the dance floor after getting so infuriated. Unless that’s the first thing he would do in his state?  You weren’t completely sure but you were almost certain that he wouldn’t.  As a large group gathers around for shots, you manage to escape down a hallway where you imagine the bathroom might be.  It’s completely dark, the only light coming from underneath a door on the left, probably the bathroom.  At the end of the hall is what looks like a bedroom, the moonlight shining in from the blinds to just barely reveal a bed.  

No one seemed to be in said bed, an empty room for people to crash in at the end of the night.  Eddie could be in the bathroom but you’d have to be sure before leaving.  With a shy knock on the door, struggle to hear any voice that might respond.  Pressing your ear to the door, you try again, only to be met with the annoyed voice of a woman saying she’ll be out in a second and that she was fixing her lipstick.

Clearly not Eddie.

At this point you’ve covered the downstairs, no sign of the man so far.  He would be good at hide and seek, you assume.  Or maybe you’re just the blind.  Retracing your steps back out into the living room, you collide with a few bodies, none of them paying any mind to the impact as they continue to dance, flailing around like rag dolls.  You didn’t think it was possible for the room to get any more humid but you were proven wrong, sweat grazing your arms as you pass by and attempt to avoid touching anyone, failing miserably.  

Your perfect ruby heels are starting to kill you, digging into your skin in all the wrong places, making it more difficult to walk with every step you take.  You know for sure that come the morning, you’ll have blisters that will be bothering you for days.  Reluctantly, you slide them off and scoop them up, dangling them by your fingers, Eddie’s jacket still hanging off your arm.  You were becoming a walking closet.

Going upstairs didn’t seem like a great decision seeing as this wasn’t your house and you didn’t want to give Crystal and Gabriel the impression that you liked to snoop around.  Although, if someone did see you, you could just vouch for yourself by saying you were looking for a bathroom and the downstairs one was taken already.  So up you went, nervously glancing behind you.  The coast seemed clear, not one person paying you any mind, the party still capturing their undivided attention.

Like magic, Eddie appears as you reach the top of the stairs, leaning against one of the doors as he weakly knocks, his forehead pressed to the wood.  He was gorgeous, the perfect image of an 80’s rockstar gone 90’s.  His back was nearly on display, shoulders all broad and waist lean.  You could make out bat wings tattooed symmetrically on his shoulder blades and something along his ribs.  The sight flustered you but you were here for one purpose and that was to retrieve him and get him back to Donnie so she or someone else could keep an eye on him.

“Dude, ‘urry up!”  He whines into the door,  pounding on it with more force.  “Hafta piss ‘n maybe throw u—up.”  He hiccups.

You want to giggle but quickly remember how miserable that feeling is, your stomach rejecting you and releasing its contents in protest of the alcohol you continue to bombard it with.  You realize that no light pours out from underneath the door which meant the bathroom had to be available.

“Eddie, I don’t think anyone’s in there.”  You offer, slowly walking up behind him.  

“Pfft, it’s locked.”  He scoffs, hitting his forehead against the wood with a thump.

When you reach your hand toward the handle and twist the door open, he gasps, nearly falling head first into the bathroom.  It wasn’t thought through, opening a door with a grown man leaning his full weight onto it.  Luckily, he catches himself, hands gripping the countertop as he sways.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”  You hiss, voice tinged with regret.

“‘S okay.”  He mumbles, pulling his zipper down.

“Oh!”  Covering your eyes, you shut the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“Eddie, I am not standing in there with you while you pee!”  You yell through the door.

“God.”  He groans, a stream following.  “Just—I know!”

“I’ll stand right here and make sure you don’t fall and hit your head, okay?”  You bargain.

“Okay.”

After several seconds, you don’t hear any movement, worry kicking in once again.  He couldn’t have hit his head, you would’ve heard it.  What if he passed out but didn’t hit anything?  It was pathetic, the way worry would grow inside you solely for him.  Just when you begin a countdown to burst through the door to check on him, you can hear the unmistakable sound of him puking his guts out.  Now you wonder if you should go in anyway and hold his hair back.  

Dry heaving is heard through the door, the awful sound the only thing you can focus on.  You can’t take it anymore.  You can only hope he remembered to zip his pants back up in his drunken state.  Opening the door, you reveal Eddie hunched over the toilet, his hair draped over his shoulders, clearly in his way.  You rush to his side, dropping your heels and his jacket in the process and collecting his curls in your hands, pulling them back as he breathes heavily, drool hanging from his mouth.  His eyes are wet and his hands are shaky as they grip the toilet seat.  You feel as if he should be vomiting in your lap for payback for puking on him that one night.  

“Ah shit.”  He complains, shaking his head.  “Round two, get o—out”.  He gags.

Throw up was the embodiment of the most disgusting thing you could ever think of, smell and everything but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at this moment.  Even with his clammy skin and pukey lips.

“It’s okay, just let it out.”  You encourage him, hesitantly running a hand over his back, regretting doing so as you feel the muscles under his skin tense.

“Seriously, out.”  He almost vomits, swallowing it down.  

The action alone should be enough to have you jumping up and leaving but you stay.  

“Eddie, just puke it all up.  It’s fine.  I’m gonna hold your hair.”  You tell him.

He shudders, glancing over at you with his bloodshot eyes.  It’s like he’s shooting daggers at you before his eyes soften involuntarily, irises becoming that caramel toned warmness you were becoming more and more familiar with.  His pupils are dilated, huge planets in the middle of his eyes, clearly high and drunk though you still recognize the puppy dog-look he was giving you.  

“Eddie, if you don’t puke right now—“

As if on command, he lunges forward and spews out the rest of his stomach.  The sound makes you wince but you try to hide it as best as you can for his sake.  It’s not his fault his body is reacting to the substances he put into his body.  Maybe it is his fault since he put those substances into his body but regardless, you felt for him.  Once it has to come out, it has to come out and there’s no going back.  

“There you go.”  You soothe, fingertips gently raking up and down his spine.

“Fuck.”  He whispers into the bowl, spitting out a huge glob of saliva. It would repulse you if it were anyone else.

“It’s okay.”  You whisper just as quietly.

Grabbing the toilet paper and folding it a few times, you rip it and hand it to him to clean himself up.  You linger for a few seconds, waiting for him to grab it but he only continues to stare into the toilet bowl, hands braced on either side.  Just when you’re about to speak up again, he goes in for a third round.  You can’t help but feel bad for him even if the smell is nauseating you.  

“You want some water?”  You offer, standing up in preparation to go find him some.

“No, stay.”  He blindly grabs the hem of your dress, wiping his mouth with his forearm.

He didn’t seem to have a follow up reason as to why he wanted you to stay but you do anyway.  It was still a concern of yours that he stayed hydrated but you would tuck the thought aside momentarily to appease him.  

“Okay, what do you need?”  

Finally, he relaxes, his stomach seemingly empty now as he sits back against the wall.  A sigh leaves his lips, relief slipping off of them as he gazes up at the ceiling.  Shutting his eyes, he shows no indication of responding anytime soon, his pale face exhausted.  Sitting down beside him was your best bet, that way if he did decide that he needed to spill his guts again, you were there to assist.  And it was especially comforting to sit there just in case he passed out since he was at risk of hitting his head against something.  He was obviously still out of it, sobriety seeping in very slowly, the room more than likely spinning from his perspective.

“Dizzy?”  You ask.

“Mhm.”  He hums, squeezing his eyes shut as if it would aid in steadying the room.

“You need water.”

“Mm.”  He disagrees, shaking his head.

“Yes, it’ll help with the dizziness…probably.”  You tell him, standing up once again.

This time he doesn’t protest, the message sinking in.  You do, however, worry what could happen in the seconds that you’re gone.  But, you have no other options right now.

“Stay here—Eddie, stay here.  Do you hear me?  Don’t move.”  You try to drill into his brain.

All he offers is a weak nod, unable to even open his eyes.  Satisfied enough with the response, you speed out of the bathroom and down the stairs into the kitchen.  It was easy enough to grab a cup and fill it with water, dodging the wasted party guests that had gathered around the counter to play some kind of drinking game.

“Hey, where did you run off to!”  Jett calls over to you.

Carefully, carrying the cup of water as not to spill, you turn around to meet his cheerful face.  He had clearly gotten into that weed stash as his eyes were even more bloodshot than Eddie’s and his face was the most relaxed you’d ever seen it.  And he was a pretty laid back guy so that was saying something.

“Oh, uh, Eddie’s not feeling good so I was just helping him out.”  You explain.

Jett offers a suspicious squint, eyes glimmering in mischief as he reaches for a cupcake.  

“What?”  You ask genuinely.

He shakes his head, sticking his hands up in surrender which only makes you question the strange boy further.  What was going on in that hyperactive mind of his?

“Nothin’”  He smirks, orange icing coating his upper lip.

You didn’t have time for him to elaborate, if you could even get him to.  You just needed to get back upstairs, you had already been gone for a few seconds too long, worry burying in your gut like a parasite.

“Okay, I have to get back to Eddie and make sure he hasn’t done something stupid.”

“Mmmhmm.”  Jett giggles.

If only you had the time to interrogate him and inquire as to why he found that so funny.  But you didn’t.  Leaving him behind to laugh to himself, you can just barely make out one last word as you turn on your heel.

“Lovebirds.”

Your eyes grow ten times bigger as you scurry away.  Did he think that’s what this was?  That you were on your way to hook up with your boss?  Did it look that way to everyone else?  Jett was going to rat you out for something you weren’t even doing, you were convinced.  No matter how nice of a guy Jett proved he was, he was higher than a kite and could start up a rumor like wildfire if he relayed his suspicion to anyone.  It’s possible you were being paranoid but come the morning, if there were rumors floating around, you knew exactly who to blame.

Trying to shake the butterflies you felt taking your stomach hostage, you concentrate on getting the water upstairs without spilling a drop.  It was evident that you had filled the cup a tad too high, giving you even more of a challenge.  As you conquer the stairs, you anxiously peer around the corner into the bathroom, hoping and praying that Eddie had listened and didn’t move an inch.  Otherwise, you were on another goosechase for a six foot tall metalhead for the second time that night and respectfully, your organs wouldn’t be able to handle another spurt of anxiety like that.

Much to your relief, Eddie sits against the wall just as you had left him, eyes still shut tight and head bowed.  He doesn’t seem to hear your sock covered feet padding into the bathroom, not one muscle twitching.  

“Eddie.”  You call, holding the water in front of him.

No answer.

“Eddie?”  You say, more panicked.

Nothing.

“Okay, this isn’t funny, Eddie.  C’mon, drink the water.”  You tell him, gripping his chin as you examine him.  

His eyes seem to flutter beneath his eyelids, brows furrowing as his head resists your hand and leans toward gravity.  You continue to hold him up, giving his cheek a small pat.  A deep groan escapes him although he’s still practically sleeping.  

“Eddie.”  Shaking his shoulders, he only moves like a rag doll in your hold.  “Eddie, wake up.”

“Mmm.”  He grumbles, swatting your hands away.

“Okay, I gotta take you home.”  You decide, placing your hands on your hips, attempting to determine just how you were going to even get him into your car.

You couldn’t leave him here, he was still wasted.  You could leave him with Donnie and everyone to look after him but what was the point if you were going to go home anyway and he lived right next to you?  There was no use in making them babysitters if there was a more logical solution.  

“‘M fine.”  He says, curling up into a ball.

“No, Eddie, get up.  Get up.”  You try to be firm with him but he remains on the floor, comfy as ever with his hands tucked beneath his head.  “Shit.”  You sigh.

It was time to call in some reinforcements.

–

“Jesus Christ, he’s really fucked up isn’t he?”  Jett stares down at the figure of a sleeping Eddie on the bathroom floor, perfectly content.  

“Yeah, can you guys just carry him to my car and I can figure out the rest once I get home?”  You plead.

Jett and Nathan share a look of concern to which you raise your eyebrows in confusion, expecting an explanation.  They glance once more at Eddie’s sleeping body and then back up to you, appearing as if that had said everything though you were still lost.

“How are you…going to carry him out of the car?”  Nathan asks, his bushy gray eyebrows knit in thought.

In all fairness, you didn’t think far enough into the future.  If it were only you, you assume you would be required to drag his body across the yard and onto the porch before fishing out his keys and lugging him up onto his couch before leaving some water next to him and dismissing yourself.  The affair may take you over an hour considering Eddie was proving to be a stubborn drunk.  But you’d surely manage if it had to be done.

“I dunno, I’ll work something out.”  You tell him.

Nathan glances over to Jett once more, concerned expression only deepening as he peers back down at Eddie.  Jett shrugs, surrendering the decision to both of you.

“How ‘bout this.”  Nathan starts.  “We’ll follow you home and help you get him situated–”

“God, ‘m up!  ‘M up, okay!”  Eddie takes the three of you by surprise as he rapidly pushes off the floor and begins standing on wobbly legs.  

“You sure about that?”  Jett teases while Eddie stabilizes himself against the sink.

“Fuck off.”

Eddie’s aggravated demeanor persists once again, a pathetic puppy dog pout at his lips while his eyes become overshadowed by eyebrows, a stern scowl forming.  If it was meant to intimidate anyone, he was sadly mistaken.  Instead, Jett snickers behind his hand, attempting to hide his grin.

“I’m kidding, I’m just kidding.”  Jett continues to chuckle, avoiding Eddie’s harsh gaze.

“What is goin’ on here?”  Donnie emerges from the stairs.  

“Christ, ‘s go.”  Eddie murmurs, rolling his eyes.

Donnie’s face contorts in confusion at his attitude, something that if it were directed towards you, you wouldn’t think twice about.  It was no secret that his moodiness carried over even when he was intoxicated.  But you suppose she has a motherly hold on him and should he act up, she wasn’t afraid to confront him.  It didn’t matter how much taller or how grown of a man he was, she wouldn’t hesitate to pinch him by the ear and drag him off to give him a lesson in manners.

Obediently, Eddie backs down, his expression instantly relaxing.  His scowl is replaced with a blank face, any negative thoughts seeming to fall right out of his head.

“You’re leavin’?”  Donnie questions.

Rather than answering, Eddie shifts his gaze to you expectantly.  Like you were suddenly his keeper.  It was odd, going from being absolutely repulsive in his eyes when you’d first met him, to him essentially submitting to you so willingly.  He was wasted but it was still something you fondly tucked into the back of your mind to remember later, like a little postcard for yourself.

“I, uh, yeah.  I was just heading out and I thought…since we’re neighbors…”  You try to elaborate, only feeling as if you were digging yourself into a deeper hole as you remember Jett’s comment from earlier.

Low and behold, the brief glance you offer Jett only confirms it, a huge smirk displayed on his face just for you.  It was enough for the blood to rush into your cheeks, practically sizzling to the touch.

“You just got here.”  Donnie complains.

Jett puffs out his cheeks, offering some kind of communication that has Donnie reeling back on her previous statement.

“It is late though and if he’s really not feeling good…”  She reasons.

You weren’t stupid and you knew Jett was assuming the position of a wingman and somehow, he was able to convey that to Donnie in just one simple look.  And she ran with it, much to your surprise.  Eddie seemed to check out of any conversation, bags hanging underneath his eyes while they drooped in boredom, his tall frame leaning against the wall as he toyed with the chain attached to his jeans.

Externally, you were irked, irritation written all over your face, even a hint of disgust could be found within your features.  But internally, you were having quite the opposite reaction.  Those damn butterflies had started up again, whirling around in your stomach so intensely, you were beginning to think they were bees.  Your heart pounded in your ears, the tips of them becoming embarrassingly red and hot.  You didn’t know why, maybe it was the prospect of everyone else thinking you had some secret relationship going on or even a little fling and the fact that they seemed to be rooting for you.  It ignited the tiniest bit of excitement in you, you weren’t going to lie to yourself.  Even if there was truly nothing going on.

Within minutes, you had an entourage escorting you to your car, Nathan insisting that it was no issue if you’d rather him drive Eddie just in case he were to pass out again.  Though you were grateful, you didn’t see the trouble in making him drive all the way out to your street only to turn around and go right back to the party.  If Eddie passed out again, you’d splash some water on him and surely figure out a way to wake him.  Besides, he had started to become more alert since stumbling down the stairs and making the walk down the steep driveway.  Of course, you also required that he down some water before leaving, otherwise he could stay and let his friends have their fun and tease him about sleeping in front of the toilet, which he didn’t seem to like as he scrunched his face and grabbed the water from you.

Donnie had advised you to drive safely several times while Jett continued to poke fun at Eddie, only earning himself a sock to the shoulder.  Jett may not feel it now but in the morning there would be a good chance he’d have a nice purple bruise.  

At some point after you had stepped outside, a jacket was draped over your shivering shoulders.  Eddie’s jacket.  And seconds later, he walked ahead of you with his hands shoved in his pockets, no doubt trying to escape Jett’s teasing.  It was in that moment, surrounded by people who seemed to just…care, that you began to feel wanted.  While Donnie talked your ear off about keeping an eye out for deer, Nathan continuing to even offer to drive both of you home, assuring you that he didn’t mind in the slightest.  Eddie resting his jacket over your shoulders, even in his current state, and Jett…well Jett was being Jett but he still contributed to the warm and fuzzy feelings you were experiencing.  

It felt a lot like…family.

–

The cold glass soothes Eddie’s sweaty cheek, the surface fogging up with every breath as his finger taps away to a beat in his head on the center console.  The slumped position he had been in for the past five minutes was sure to awaken a few aches and pains in his spine but he didn’t budge.  The radio softly sounded through the car, some random pop song he could hardly make out.  His eyes followed tree after tree, nearly causing him to go cross-eyed as he kept up with the little game he made up in his head, counting each tree.  Sometimes he would get distracted by the pavement zooming by before continuing.

Not a word had been shared between you since the bathroom though it was an oddly comfortable silence.  It didn’t feel like you had to speak or fill in the gaps like you usually would, desperately clinging to words that you didn’t have in order to appease the other person.  The fact that Eddie was coming out of his drunken haze could have something to do with it but had it not been Eddie you were driving, you’re certain you would struggle to strike up a conversation as if it were required.

Glancing over at him, you can’t help but feel a small smile tug at your lips, his fingers drawing a smiley face into the fog he created with his breath.  You’d never seen him so content but perhaps you shouldn’t look too much into it.  A few beers and some weed would have that effect on anyone.  It was just pleasant to see him so laid back, the stressors of his life set aside for another time.  You could only hope he could appear the same way sober someday soon.  

“Where’s your family?”  Eddie suddenly mumbles, eyes still glued to the scenery outside.  

The question is out of the blue and the last thing you would expect from him.  Although he had taken somewhat of a liking to you, he’d never taken an interest in something so personal.  And you offered him that same respect.  

“What?”  You ask, sneaking a glance at him, your hands squeezing the wheel.

His focus shifts from the window to you, his body turning inward as he leans his cheek against the headrest, waiting for your response.  The way his lips pucker from his cheek squishing against the seat only makes your heart clench.  His large awaiting eyes reflect the moon and you find it hard to change the subject when they appear so patient and attentive.

“Um, well, they’re back in…back home.”  You answer simply.

“Where’s that?”

He looked the most inquisitive you’d seen him, body turned toward you, his attention not once wavering.  Instead of the usual knit brows he often wore, his features remained softer and full of wonder.  Lips parted and eyes twinkling, who were you to deny his efforts?  Even if he was slightly under the influence.  Worst case scenario, he doesn’t remember this conversation.

“California.” 

“Oh.”  

You didn’t know what kind of response you were expecting but for some reason, the one word was a bit too vague, self consciousness kicking in.  

“What about yours?”  You shift the spotlight over to him.

From what you can tell as you keep your focus on the road, his gaze drops while he collects his thoughts, his breathing going shaky for just a second before he regains his composure.  A hum deep in his throat notifies you that he’s ready to begin speaking again.

“Uh, don’t really have one.  Never really have.  Or, uh, I just don’t remember them?  Other than my uncle, Wayne.  He’s back…”  Eddie hesitates.  “He’s in Indiana.”

“I’m sorry—I didn’t know…”  You start to backtrack and although he was the one who initiated the conversation, maybe it was too bold of you to reverse the question.

“No, ‘s okay.”  He assures you, shaking his head, his curls flattening against the seat.

“You miss him?”

The car is silent again, aside from the radio playing quietly.  You fear you’ve said the wrong thing, struck some kind of a nerve that forced him to go mute.  No longer wanting to engage in the topic.  But when you peer over at him again briefly, he’s biting his lip, getting lost in his mind again before he decides on an answer.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I do.  He visits when he can.”  A sadness lurks beneath the surface of his monotone response, eyes growing shinier in the moonlight.  And then he wipes the slate clean, face devoid of emotion once again as he seems to shake his previous thoughts from his head.  “So what’s your deal?  What made you come all the way out here?”  

This is the part where you would shrug and offer no further insight into the corners of your mind that usually were kept isolated.  But when his gaze softens from the passenger seat like that–like he wants to know, like he cares, you wanted to give him the key to your contaminated brain and let him poke around all he wanted.  As long as he wanted.

“Well, uh, I love my family...”  You start, voice timid.  “But I was feeling super lost.  And like I was living for everyone else.  And when my dad passed months ago he left me his estate…left me everything…”

“I’m sorry.”  He says, sympathy coating his words.

You nod, a silent thank you before continuing.

“So I split it up with my family…then moved away.  Guess I wanted to…I dunno find myself?”  You laugh, as if you’d just told a joke.

Rather than laugh along, Eddie studies you with intent.  Like he’s searching for more, digging into your soul.  

“Why’s that funny?”  He asks.

“I just–I don’t know what I’m doing.”  You laugh again.

“Well, neither do I.”  He begins to chuckle.  “I mean look at me.”

Progressively, you both start to laugh harder, glancing at each other and reveling in the failures that you both had endured up until this moment.  It’s like you were slap happy, a snort threatening to escape you through your uncontrollable laughter.  

“Ah, fuck.”  Eddie exhales, a grin plastered to his face.  “Bar is going to shit, my government hush money has run out–”

“Your what?”  You question, amusement taking over your features.

“Nothing.”  

Suddenly, he has no desire to converse, his lips shut in a tight line as he once again turns his attention to the window.  

“Government hush money?”  You repeat.

With a roll of his eyes and a deep breath, you can tell he contemplates carefully as he chooses his next words.  

“Jesus Christ, I’m really not supposed to talk about it.”  He breathes, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “But, fuck it I guess.”  He drops his hand from his face.

Pulling into your driveway, the gravel crunches under the tires before you kill the engine, headlights leaving you in the darkness.  Eddie has your full focus, your body turned toward him as you pull a knee up to your chest, resting your chin on top.  

“You don’t have to.”  You assure.  “I can just forget you ever said anything–”

“Honestly, it’ll probably do me some good to get it off my chest.”  He interrupts.  

At his insistence, you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.  He fidgets with his rings nervously, pulling them off and putting them back on.  

“You, uh, you have to swear to never talk about it again.  To anyone.”  

“Promise.”  You whisper, sticking your pinky out.

A puzzled look crosses his face, looking from your pinky to you in uncertainty.  It was becoming apparent that he was sobering up, laziness no longer taking a hold of his eyelids and words coherent.  

“Pinky promise.”  You smile.

“Pinky promise?”  He still appears confused.

“Yeah, you never made a pinky promise before?”  

A small smile forces the corners of his mouth up, eyes shining with entertainment as he stares at your pinky.  Shaking his head, he rests his hands in his lap, almost bashfully.  A contrast to his usual prickly tendencies and forward personality.

“Well, I take pinky promises very seriously.  They can’t be broken.  So I pinky promise, I won’t mention this ever again.”  You stick your hand even further forward, awaiting his pinky.

“Yeah?”  He asks with a lopsided grin.  “How do I know you mean that?” 

“It’s a pinky promise, Eddie.”  You deadpan, as if he was supposed to know how eternally binding it was.

A few seconds pass, Eddie still looking from you to your pinky with round eyes, soft at the edges with something that resembles the innocence of a little boy.  His inner child was sparkling, pouring from him like a forbidden fountain that only you had the honor of witnessing.  When his pinky wraps around yours, his comically larger than yours, you can’t fight the way your heart flutters in response to the touch.  His warmth encompassing yours, melting together like the sweetest chocolate.

Then, once your pinkies part, he speaks of a horrifying earthquake, striking his home town and wreaking havoc on the innocent lives once lived.  He tells you of things that you would never in this lifetime believe, things that he was forced to believe within seconds, creatures that attacked him, putting him on his deathbed only to be revived and put in the hospital for weeks.  Of the horrifying manhunt for him, how he was a wanted man for things he was never responsible for, conveniently at the peak of satanic panic.  How he was blamed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, how the whole town pinned a murder on him.  How there are things he could never even begin to explain like how Chrissy, the head cheerleader at his highschool had died right in front of him.  And how she was the first girl he was actually interested in, only for her to die a horrific death before his eyes.  He didn’t go into detail, though you didn’t need him to.  You didn’t want him to re-live such trauma just to provide you further explanation.

Once all was said and done, once he was out of the hospital, he was arrested and sat in jail for a week or so, he couldn’t recall exactly how long.  His uncle trying everything, doing everything he could to bail him out but he didn’t come from money so that proved to fail, especially since no one was on his side, even a majority of the police.  He told you of Dustin and Lucas…of Max, Erika, Steve, Nancy, and Robin.  The people that had always been on his side even when he was the only suspect for murder.  The people he missed so dearly every day but could only see every so often when they could find time to visit.  Which they did.  He only wished he could go back home.  If he did, it would only spark up another riot and it was against his agreement with the government to even step foot in the state of Indiana.  

So when he was bailed out of jail, his friends all awaiting him just outside the station, it was bittersweet.  He was relieved that he wouldn’t be stuck in that hell hole for the rest of his life like his dad but he was terrified of leaving everything he’d ever known.  It was his dream to someday get out of that place, a place that he wouldn’t name which was most likely due to his agreement.  But the second he was forced to leave, he didn’t know what was next for him, a terrifying concept for any smalltown boy at the fresh age of 20.

Wayne had intervened, making plans for Eddie to move in with his grandfather, Roy out in the middle of the mountains a few states away rather than being shipped somewhere where he had no connections, a setup for failure.  Eddie told you about how he didn’t know his grandpa his entire life, didn’t even know he still had one until he went to live with him.  But without any hesitation, Roy took him under his wing, stating that it's what his daughter, Eddie’s mother would’ve wanted him to do.  The least he could do for a boy who only knew broken family and lost his beloved mother so young.  

You learn that his grandfather had distanced himself due to Eddie’s dad and truthfully didn’t know of Eddie’s existence until Wayne made that phone call.  The moment he found out he had a grandson, he welcomed him with open arms and put him to work at the bar, giving him a kind of security that Eddie had never been familiar with in his life.  Grandpa Roy died last year of kidney failure, leaving Eddie everything and you could tell it was really taking a toll on him, the responsibility of the bar, the fear of losing it and disappointing his grandfather.

It seems that within the span of ten minutes, you learn Eddie’s life story.  From the incident back in Indiana to how his dad created destruction in his life long before that and how he would teach Eddie how to commit petty theft and hotwire cars.  He was on the route to becoming just like his dad before Wayne got involved, fighting like hell for legal custody of him.  His dad refused time and time again although Eddie spent most nights and days at Wayne’s trailer anyway.  Wayne didn’t want him to have any authority over Eddie, the man was a criminal and an addict that would leave poor young Eddie alone for days to fend for himself until he decided to come back.  He didn’t want that life for Eddie.

Eventually, he won, the courts taking far too long to review the case but he was granted full custody and not long after, Eddie’s dad was arrested for grand theft auto.  He still rots in jail to this day for several other crimes he committed once he got out the first time.

It was all laid out for you, Eddie’s entire upbringing.  His whole life on display for you to judge if you felt so inclined to.  You didn’t.  You sat and you processed.  Deciphering that Eddie is the way he is because of the way he had been treated his entire life.  An outcast among the working class, growing up in poverty and being made fun of for things out of his control.  Kids steering clear from him for the simple fact that he was his father’s son and that his name had already been tarnished before he was even born.  It was becoming clear as to why Eddie was so emotionally withdrawn.  How could he not be?

“Eddie I–” “If you say you’re sorry I’ll puke again.”  He jokes.

It was something you found so endearing within him, his ability to remain playful even when addressing his trauma.  Perhaps it was a coping mechanism.  You could relate if it was.  

“Let’s just, uh, call it a night.  I think that’s enough about me.  I don’t wanna talk about me anymore.”  He shakes his head, exhausted but still displaying a playful smile.

“Okay.  Yeah.”  You agree, opening the door before he stops you with a raise of his hand.

“Would this…would this be a bad time to tell you that I’m ninety nine percent sure that I left my keys at the party?”  He squeezes his eyes shut.

“Wow.”  You sigh, resting your head on the steering wheel.  “Look at how the tables have turned.”  You grin, shoving his shoulder, eliciting a grunt from him.  

“Gonna make me sleep on the porch with the bears?”  He half jokes.  He wouldn’t blame you.

“Only if you don’t puke on me like I did to you.”

Eddie can’t fight his grin, dimples deepening.  He’s thankful that it’s too dark to make out the pink tinting his cheeks.

~end~

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[x-hotoke]

can you please do a yandere hajime kashimo x reader

GOD OF LIGHTING HEADCANNON

FUNERAL FOR THE LIVING

writer's note: since you asked so nicely 😏, im kidding lol anyways this is a headcannon male reader insert :)) cross dresser reader

warnings: yandere themes, possessiveness, obsessive themes, stalking, use of you/your pronouns, cross dressing, toxic relationship (platonic), mild affection.

character: hajime kashimo

Kashimo — undeniably a reincarnation of an ancient person, the god of lighting. Or so they call him back in the heian period.

He met you during his stroll around the High School, downed in a beautifully patterned kimono, face with light makeup and an umbrella — there was something about you that captivated him. Was it the way you merely gave him a glance before passing by him? Or was it your presence alone that lulled him in.

Either way, he wouldn't approach you at first — who are you to begin with? He pushed his thoughts aside. You aren't the one that has the answers he's been looking for.

It must be a coincidence that every turn he makes, he would find you right around the corner which infuriated him to an extent. At first he thought that you were a female based on how you dressed and the makeup on your face — it captivated him to the point you were always on his mind.

It made him lose him mind — he tried getting close to you but every time he did so you would disappear. The only time he got close to you was when you were near a pond inside the High School, looking at the koi fish swimming around and around — it had nowhere else to go but the pond. It swam in circles.

He greeted you with a charming smile, his eyes glinting in the sun as his light colored hair swayed in the air.

You were shocked to see him, backing up a couple of steps — and him advancing forward in return. You gripped the umbrella you had in your clutches as you greeted him back timidly.

His heart raced — grinning, he asked for your name and in return he said his which he was grateful for.

You gazed at the pond below you, the fishes swimming in circles seemingly trying to get out. A voice spoke up from behind you making you jump in surprise, you turned your head around seeing the blue headed male you met a few months ago. He still looks the same as he did but he was hiding something behind that glint in his eyes.

You have heard of him meeting Yuta and Gojo yet his strength was unknown to you. “What's.. your name?” He grinned, tilting his head to the side. No formal greetings? You quirked a brow up at his blunt question. Nonetheless you answered his question. He repeated it under his breath. “I’m Hajime Kashimo — you can call me kashimo.”

“Ah — skipping the formalities then?” You let out a chuckle, he blinked at you rapidly confused.

Were you a man? His eyes analyzed your figure, his gaze falling onto your chest — his face flushed with a warm pink tone, his grin even widening. “Are you a man?”

Let's just say, a red mark on his face didn't suit his pretty face very well.

After that encounter, he would pester you. Standing under the extra space you have under the umbrella next to you. He admits that you look pretty — enough to fool other people. Kashimo isn't the type of guy who doesn't like winning.

He has that winning mindset embedded in his brain so you better hope that you make a wrong move that he doesn't like and leave you alone.

Even then — as your friendship blooms. He started to look at you differently, he doesn't want to be your friend. He wants to be someone you hold dear to — someone who you wouldn't let go — someone who you would swear that 'until death do us apart' with. It drove him crazy.

When he first came up to you and confessed, you laughed at him thinking it was some silly joke he wanted to prank you with but as soon as you saw his face — you knew he was serious. You agreed nonetheless but only if it was strictly platonic you said.

Kashimo agreed to those terms, he wanted to be close to you — hold you in his arms without you tearing away from his clutches.

Every time he meets up with you, he always has gifts he bought for you; kimonos, jewelry, a new set of pretty umbrellas and sandals.

He indulged in it — keeping you pretty and pampered all the time.

You appreciated every gift he gave you — giving him a quick peck on the cheek because that's what some people do when they're in a platonic relationship.. right?

Months passed and you began to see his true colors. He went from being sweet and a tease to being possessive and slightly verbally abusive which you frowned upon.

Even if you escaped from his clutches, doesn't mean you're safe from him. He will find you — he waited 400 years to be reincarnated again and sought for the answers he's been looking for — he won't give up on you so easily.

Maybe you were the answer he's been looking for? No, no. Sukuna holds the answers that he's sought after. Though once he captures you again, best believe that you won't be able to step out of where he locked you up in. Maybe you are the koi fish in the small pond, running around in circles with no escape from its current predicament.

They said that if a few stands of your hair go up during a thunder storm, you'll get struck by lighting. And unfortunately for you, you're the victim.

[wilzy-woo]

Ikemen Vampire Suitors ideal type in my eyes 👀 (also sorry if it seems more aimed at girls I tried to make it GN 😭)

Starting off simple with everyone's favourite (or not) sugar daddy COMTE 😍

• Thinks confidence is really hot and he DEFINITELY likes a little bratty type

• Likes independence but LOVES it when they need help just so he gets to look all snug, he doesn't say anything (he might) but just looks at you with his smexy smirk

• Doesn't care much for looks but loves it when they get dressed up OR LIKE THE KIND OF BEFORE SHOWER MAKEUP

• I think that he NEEDS them to be honest like he would hate the "they told me not tell anyone..." Like he doesn't care he would want ALL OF IT spilt to him whether it's serious or not

Next is the love of my life (he wouldn't like me at all)

• He wants an extrovert. I don't care he NEEDS an extrovert. May think he doesn't but Ugh he just does

• Wants someone to stand up for him, he may be able to stand up for himself but he just really appreciates when someone would do that.

• Someone cleverrr I can't stress this enough he wouldn't be able to stand someone who isn't interested or knows a thing or two about science or anything for that matter. He WANTS the "erm actually" person

• Needs someone who loves snow. It's a weird thing but I can just see him loving a snowy date in his delusions

Pookie bear Vincent (am I the only one who isn't a fan of Vincents route? Like it was painfully slow 😔 I mean don't get me wrong I love him but I didn't feel very attached)

•Loves a sweet girl, needs someone to protect and love omg can you imagine someone timid meeting Vincent UGH IT WOULD BE SO CUTE

• Needs their love language to be physical touch, he just screams it

• Wouldn't mind someone bad at art so he could help them with it if they are interested but would PREFER someone who is good at it so they could do cute little dates together

• Wants a very Smiley person like someone who smiles or laughs at the stupidest thing, broken humour type of person

Now Theodore is different his route WAS SO GOOD I WAS LITERALLY SCREAMING THE WHOLE TIME even if it was a bit weird and k!nky at some points 🤨

(Why does this photo look massive)

• Chill anyways ALSO wants a bratty person, wants pretty much the opposite of Vincent he finds it such a turn on when they give him a dirty look or roll their eyes at him UGH

• I just know he likes a busty person (ass and chest for girlies) 😔 He seems like that type of person to nonchalantly slap their ass (honestly I'm not a huge fan of that but he would probably do it)

• Definitely likes the weird yappers, the ones who get distracted from one subject they were talking about and moved onto a completely different one

• Likes the observers! People who could just analyse someone easily based on the way they are sitting or talking

UGH MY HUSBAND (this might be biased towards me but I'll try 💔)

(this photo makes me do unspeakable things)

• Wants them to be independent but not TOO independent, he wants them to depend on him for things but also have that nice balance of independence

• Also loves yappers, he's the listening type so being able to listen to their voice for hours on end would be so good for him. He doesn't care what it's about just as long as he doesn't have to pitch in much he's fine with it

• LOVES when someone is indecisive and asks for HIS help with choosing something, knowing that you think he has the best decision making compared to the others is such an ego boost

• Loves someone who isn't afraid to share their opinions. Finds it such a turn on when their mouth is faster than their mind and just says stuff that doesn't even make sense

Arthur oh Arthur let down your hair...I'm not even sure if this is accurate I never finished his route I got bored halfway through 💀

•NEEDS someone humorous, CRAVES IT someone who can take a slightly rude joke and give him one back

• Needs someone with 100+ rizz...no seriously he would find it so funny if you went up to him and said some pick up line with that certain face

•Wants someone who would put him in his place when he does something wrong like overworking or doing something risky ass gambling 💀

• LOVES when their love language is acts of service, something simple like bringing him a coffee when he's writing and sitting down with him in silence, every now and then he'd ask you for ideas or something, just being helpful would make him fold.

• (EXTRA) would laugh if you failed your English GCSES

Mozzy Mosquito is that you 🤨 (I've never done his route so I have no bloody idea 💀)

•WOULD FOLD IF THEY COULD SING. Not like one of those strong voices or rapping NONONO he wants a Lana Del Rey, Alex G and the Florence type of singer , someone with a soft sleepy like voice! He would literally be in love

•CRAVES FOR CONFIDENCE he just thinks it's so attractive for someone to be confident. Like for them initiate conversation and WON'T BACK DOWN (even when he's being a bit of arsey introvert)

• Craves praise. Needs it. Needs someone who praises him and supports him all the way, someone who will get him out of music block by just being there to share ideas or sit there with him for hours telling him if it's good or bad

•Would prefer an introverted lover, he needs someone who is calm and collected and loves it if they come home from an outing and go straight to him groaning and ranting about how much they dislike people

I finished the first chapter of Jeans route I'm sorry if this is inaccurate I literally just go from what I saw of him from the other routes I've played (which isn't a lot ,😭)

•Though he's more of a listener he would also want a listener partner, to be able to sit there in comfortable silence in each others arms. However there will obviously be conversation it would be quiet and would last hours, something deep and personal to the both of them

• would love love love someone with soft slim hands. I don't know why he just seems like the type of person to be obsessed with those types of hands

• Needs someone patient and soft spoken, someone to be able to let his tough exterior break but by bit. A soft voice and reassurance looks like it would get him head over heels

I also haven't played Sebs route I'm sorry 😔

•Probably wants someone who is capable of doing what he's capable of, a helping hand and someone he can rely on without messing up

•Someone who wouldn't mind if he was busy a lot doing something for the mansion as he is the 24/7 working butler 😭 someone patient and doesn't mind sitting in silence just holding eachother after a long day

• Prefers an ambivert, definitely wants to be able to have balanced conversations where they can be bothered listener and talker

• that's all I can think of 😭

I'm going to leave it here and do the other six in another part 😭

[flyingwargle]

“coach! i brought keiji with me!”

akaashi steps out from behind bokuto, a familiar sight to the black jackals. they gather around him with greetings and waves, and he replies with his usual formality. foster joins the huddle and gives him a warm smile. “welcome back, keiji. it’s always a pleasure to see you.”

“thank you for letting me stay.” he bows.

“we welcome family, friends, and significant others. isn’t that right, boys?” foster shoots a look at his players. meian and barnes whistle innocently, and hinata scratches the back of his head. “i always appreciate your observations.” he turns his heel. “koutarou, can i have a word with you? shugo, get started on warm-ups, please.”

“sure, coach.” meian gestures for his teammates to head to the court while bokuto walks with his coach to the side. akaashi is about to take his spot on the bench when an arm slings around his shoulder.

“hey, ‘kaashi, i gotta ask for yer advice,” miya says. “ya got a minute?”

“i’ll do my best to help. what is it?”

 “i need ta see ya set. bokkun keeps sayin’ my tosses are second-best an’ i ain’t settlin’ for that.”

akaashi glances over his shoulder. “i’m afraid you’re out of luck. i haven’t set a ball since high school.”

“bokkun tells me ya still play,” miya points out, raising an eyebrow. “casually.”

“yes, as a form of exercise. i’m sure he only says you’re second-best because of our relationship.”

“that man needs ta keep romance off the court,” miya grumbles. “yer here anyway, might as well play fer a bit. i know ya got a pair of court shoes in his apartment.”

“i’m not dressed for volleyball, if you haven’t noticed.”

“miya!” meian calls out. “get over here!”

“just think of how happy bokkun would be if he could hit yer tosses,” miya says, sliding toward his teammates. “ain’t nothin’ better than seein’ yer partner shine their brightest, y’know?” he jogs away, leaving akaashi to stare after him, stupefied.

if he thinks about it, there isn't anything special about his tosses. each spiker has their own preferences, from the ball’s height, distance from the net or antenna, and speed. bokuto never had any specifications; right from the start, he simply told akaashi, “just give me a toss! any toss!” later, he learned that the third-year setter didn’t toss to bokuto often because of how streaky his performance was, and it wasn’t until after he retired that bokuto’s full potential was realized.

no, that isn’t accurate. akaashi was never able to draw out his full strength, but with someone as talented as miya, he could definitely raise bokuto to greater heights. if bokuto had gone to a different school, had someone better as his setter, would he have taken victory home? but that implies a future where they’d never meet, one that akaashi doesn’t want to think about.

“keiji?”

akaashi startles. bokuto is in front of him, hands in his, concern in his eyes. “you’re overthinking again. is something on your mind?”

noise filters in and blocks out the rest of his thoughts. akaashi shakes himself, looks up at him. “no, everything is fine. if you don’t mind, i need to head back to the apartment for something. i’ll be right back.” he kisses his check in farewell and hurries off. he should have a spare t-shirt and shorts somewhere.

when he returns, practice is underway. he sits on a bench, chats with the assistant managers, who relay any observations he makes. afterwards, foster thanks him for his advice before heading out, and bokuto approaches. akaashi stands. “why don’t we play for a bit?”

“you want to play volleyball?” bokuto gasps. “but–“

“miya told me that you said his tosses are second-best, and he wants to know why. it appears he won’t take anything short of a live demonstration.” akaashi takes his jacket off, reveals the faded fukurodani gym strip that he once wore daily. “so why don’t we show him?”

“nice ta have ya join us, ‘kaashi,” miya says, standing between hinata and sakusa. “i’m ready ta see what yer tosses are like.”

“akaashi-san’s tosses are great!” hinata chirps. “they’re super easy to hit!”

“that was before. as for now…” akaashi stands at the net where the setter is positioned. “it…has been quite a while since i last did this.” he can’t even remember the last casual game he played, anywhere from last month to last year. the days tend to blur together, lost in the monotony of adulthood.

after he warms up and declares himself ready, bokuto marches forward to go first, but miya holds him off. “gotta save the best fer last, y’know?”

“i’ll go, then!” hinata stands at the end line, ball in hand. “any toss you’re comfortable with is fine, akaashi-san!” he throws his ball and makes his approach.

hinata’s contact point is much higher than before. he’s in the air longer, similar to hoshiumi-san. so the toss should be… akaashi jumps, sets the ball. hinata spikes it effortlessly, cheering as he lands. “nice toss!”

“nice kill!” bokuto cheers.

sakusa is next. “i prefer if it’s close to the net.” akaashi nods, watching the ball as it arches through the air. sakusa’s jumps aren’t as powerful, his main strength being the snap of his wrist. he sets it slightly lower, close to the net. his spike is parallel to the sideline.

“sharp!” hinata comments.

“not bad,” miya remarks.

bokuto is last. their eyes meet, his golden eyes radiating with nothing but love. akaashi smiles, simply raises his hands as the ball arches toward him. he sets it, and bokuto meets it in midair, arm pulled back, slamming the ball down with enough force that it bounces off the wall. when he lands, he pivots and picks akaashi up in his arms. “yup, your tosses are still the best!”

“bokkun,” miya whines, “ya gotta explain why! what makes my tosses second-best?”

“it’s because his tosses remind me of the best time in my life.” bokuto’s grin is wide, eyes on his boyfriend, a spark in its depths. “i have fun playing volleyball every day with you guys, but nothing beats playing with keiji. i’d never want to trade it for anything.”

akaashi feels his chest throb with adoration. all his overthinking was for nothing. “thank you, kou. i feel the same way.” his cheeks warm as bokuto leans forward to kiss him, his teammates making comments in mock disgust. he laughs, happy to be in his arms, watching him shine the brightest he has ever been.

[sugarcoatedcigs]

♡ mini series: enduring you pt.2 ♡

[pt.1 right here]

a/n: it’s an understatement when i say i am WEEPING FOR BLACK TSHIRT ELLIE. (and no i am not talking about my eyes) anyways!

summary: ellie has been…off since your first interaction with her. at dina’s party, ellie and you share a joint alone. what will come of this?

word count: 1.7k

warnings: slow burn, alcohol and weed consumption, a lil angst :,)

well fuck. i swallow the knot that formed in my throat, hopefully ellie wasn't staining dina's opinion of me. dina then snapped me out of my thoughts, "well get in here silly." while coming in, i glanced at ellie where she had taken up half of the small couch with her manspreading. her hands were fidgeting with a cup she was holding.

dinas house was warm and inviting, just like her. i looked around every inch, except where ellie sat. i could feel her eyes on me. "wow nice place. it's got charm." dina smiled wider, "isn't it great? why don't i get you some tea?" before i said anything she was already out of the living room. goddamnit dina. you leave when i need you most. i pretended to look more around the house but then ellie cleared her throat.

"so we're neighbors huh?" her voice was gruff and bored. i paused at my looking around to meet her gaze, she was looking through her hung eyes with disinterest. responding with the same bored tone, i said "uh huh. neighbors." there was a drawn out pause then she started again, "you can come by anytime i guess." her eyes dropped to the ground, and she scratches her lips. that's something i wasn't expecting.

before i could reply, dina came in with a cup of tea for me. "it's chamomile from the town garden. i put some honey in it too." she passed me the cup and then ellie stood up suddenly and made her way towards the door. her eyes met mine again and they slowly dropped until they were back on the ground. opening the door she nodded at dina, "i should get going. bye d." she closed the door leaving me a lil stunned. why was she acting weird? i mean i only have had a few interactions with her but this one was different. "what's with her?" dina hummed lowly, "poor thing. she got dumped today." i debated telling dina about this mornings interruption with my sleep, but i decided against it. the situation must complicated, better to stay out of it.

...

dina and i wrapped up after i was done with my tea. now i was back at my apartment, getting giddy as dina's party was approaching.

for tonight, i decided on a black sleeve that just so happens to be showing just a little lil cleavage. and the usual jeans, with my only puffy jacket. should be good. i was going to be late if i didn't leave now so i hurried out the door.

...

i opened the door to an unknown smell. it smelled pungent and earthy. i took my jacket and scarf off and out of 20ish people i spotted dina in a corner with jesse. while making my way towards them i saw ellie, she was with someone and they looked both upset. that must be the girlfriend. ellie, was dressed in a black tee shirt and some rough jeans. her hair pulled back half up half down. her eyebrows furrowed as she looked frustrated. i squeezed my thighs together as i took in her muscles peeking out of the shirt.

"hey y/n!" dina called out to me, interrupting my staring. she was smiling bright as always. when i got into earshot i asked, "what's that smell?" she giggled, "its weed for the party, ellie got it. have you tried some before? ask her for some." dina and i looked over to ellie in unison, where she was still arguing with her girlfriend. then dina winced, "well maybe ask later. you want a beer in the meantime? we also got some tequila over in the kitchen." i smiled, "i'm feeling tequila. i'll be back." when entering the kitchen i spotted the liquor and poured myself a lil shot, i shot it back feeling the liquor wash down my throat. i felt immediately warmer and excited. then music started to play in the other room and everyone started to dance. i happily joined in and started to dance with dina. a busty bass song came on and we were both feeling it. "fuck yeah!" dina screamed. we both moved our hips and swung our bodies around to the beat. but then my dancing got interrupted when i felt the need to pee. well fuck. i partially yelled at dina, "i need to pee! wheres the bathroom?" dina pointed down a darker hallway and i made my way over there, weaving through people. i spotted a door, this must be it. the door was unlocked and upon opening...i find ellie. she was leaning on the counter when i bursted in looking dazed at the wall. she, surprised, said "what the fuck?" i gulped and sheepishly looked back on the ground. shit.

"oh sorry. i didn't know it was being used." i maintained looking at the floor (hoping she didn't think im a creep) while i was shutting the door. then she stopped my attempt by grabbing the edge and said "no go ahead. i'm not using it anyway." she eyed me as i rushed in, "thank you thank you!" once she got out, i slammed the door and rushed over to the toilet. i sighed as the feeling of relief washed over me. thank fuck. it felt like 2 minutes of peeing but maybe it's because i was tipsy.

when i was done washing up i opened the door and ellie was still standing there. it was an awkward second of just her eyes staring into mine until she opened her mouth to a lit joint. i watched her take a puff in and then she offered it to me. "you want some?" i nodded. the joint, in between her pointer and middle passed to me. her skin brushed against mine and i licked my lips nervously. i eyed her hands, which looked rough with little scars scattered them. her eyes train on me as i brought the joint up and took a puff in just like she did. it was heavy in my chest when inhaling. i looked at her before exhaling and then released the smoke. huh. that wasn't so hard.

her mouth was slightly agape and her eyes were low. then she smirked a little bit, "i thought you'd cough." if i had been sober i would of been offended but i took this as a compliment instead. i smiled and then took another puff. i hummed at the feeling. i think i like this. i offered the joint back to her and looked over at the end of the hall where everyone was dancing. the music vibrated through the walls and it was started to become muffled. i felt relaxed, and my brain started to tingle. i laughed under my breath, this feels weird. ellie chuckled and smiled, "you're fucking high." i started to laugh. "shit maybe i am." silence took over the both of us and we were content with leaning on the walls outside of the bathroom. i looked at her. her eyes were trained on the ground, deep in thought. "can i ask you a question?" i said. she hummed and looked back up at me, "shoot." she took another puff. maybe it was the liquor courage had but i was curious. despite it not being my business it felt like this was my only time to say it.

"i know this isn't my business...but what's going on between you and that other girl?" i didn't know what to expect for a response maybe she'd get mad and tell me to fuck off or punch me. but she didn't, instead she furrowed her brows, "why?" i sighed (partly in relief), "i saw you when i got here. you looked upset." yeah i saw her, practically ogled her actually. her face was unreadable for a second or two. then she took a deep breath, "she broke up with me today because she's been seeing someone else. her name was cat." oh. her eyes looked down. then she licked her lips and bit down on them. i blurted, "i'm sorry." feeling a since of regret from asking. she started to laugh, holding the joint in one hand and the other pinching the bridge of her nose. she slowly stopped and looked at me, "sorry, i just i don't know why i told you. i mean i don't even know you." i laughed at that. "yeah i guess that doesn't really make sense."

she was still smiling but looked down. the more i looked at her the more features i noticed. her eyes especially drew in my attention, she had long lashes and her eyes were really fucking pretty. shades of hazel and green. her scar on her eyebrow suited her a lot. and her lips. they were the perfect plump pink lips and they also had a barley visible scar. a strand of hair fell in front of her face. i had the urge to tuck it back and kiss her but i didn't. my trance was interrupted by her eyes flicking back up at mine. but they didn't stop at my eyes. they stopped at the base of my shirts v neck. i saw her chest rise as she took a long inhale in. she stopped staring and adjusted her posture. i could see her ears turn a shade to red when she looked up at my face. she cleared her throat and was about to say something but got interrupted by a sudden noise in the room where everybody was. it sounds like someone broke something. we both started to walk towards the commotion trying to get an idea of what happened. someone had broke the coffee table. jesse was evidently mad and dina didn't seem to be that upset. i heard a "fuck" under her breath. when i turned to her she was leaving. i watched her back as she moved through the crowd. i didn't reach out or say anything.

hang in tight. pt.3 will be a wild one. and i promise you smut:-)

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism boys crushing on YOU (part 2)

(Samuel, Zack, Daniel, Eugene(!!!)) Part 1 here

Samuel

Be real. Samuel doesn't look like the way he does, and dress like how he does and get zero attention. He's intense and sensual anyway, and he has a healthy appreciation for sex so him taking notice of you and being aroused isn't new.

But then these thoughts. These childish, optimistic ideas of you and him rising to the top together just takes a chokehold. It's a distraction he doesn't need.

He will 100% block out these feelings for you, he has loftier goals than chasing after you.

He's a very busy man. Places to see, things to do. But with you on his mind, mistakes creep into his work. Little errors here and there. This will never do. Guess he'll have to deal with you head on.

Zack (I love this man and feel guilty. Forgive me Mira)

Imagine his surprise when instead of looking for Mira in every situation he starts looking for YOU.

Can't sit next to Mira for lunch? Oh I guess sitting next to Y/N isn't so bad. Partnered with Y/N for a project? Hehehe guess we have to spend more time together.

Oh this remind me of Y/N. Wonder what they're doing today? If they like my hair like this. Do you think they would like this cologne? What about this shirt? Should I text them? You get the idea.

This would all come served with a heaping side of guilt and confusion though. He's pined and chased after Mira for YEARS and everyone knows it. And then for someone else? to come along? that he likes?? He's always been painfully obvious with his affection and hurting anyone is the last thing he wants. Prepare for some awkward confessions and conversations.

Daniel

Sure, everyone likes Daniel Park. His pretty face and body means that people tend to hide their uglier side from him. But Little Daniel? Piggy? He's not used to positive attention.

You with your kind demeanour and sweet smiles. The way you always ask about his day, how you make sure he's in on the joke, how you include him and never leave him out. You treat him the same no matter which body he's in, and that's what finally pushes him over the edge.

Little Daniel will hang around you a lot more. It's nice to be himself and be in his true body with you. To see that your affection is genuinely for him.

You make his heart flutter and he can get surprisingly shy and insecure around you but he enjoys looking after you. Always carrying your books or bag, offering you his jacket, making sure you're ok. Any snacks? You want a drink? No? You sure??

Eugene

Look he's a very important man with a very important job. This is an inconvenience at best, and nothing will come of it.

He stays professional. He knows what the company handbook says and he doesn't want you to feel remotely uncomfortable. Eugene still can't help but look forward to meetings where you're by his side or when you're in the car together and share little inside jokes and smiles.

And when you notice he's working late, and bring him a coffee? And remind him to not work himself into an early grave? And how a chat with you feels like it lifts off all the stress of the day?

He allows his gaze to linger a little longer on you. He gives himself this little indulgence to tide him over to another day.