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selfetishizing · 3 years

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the star of my summer nights

August 12, 1:43 AM

A night of drinking for Ash’s birthday. Only one of them comes home drunk.

“You’ve gotta duck, babe,” he coos, and it kind of reverbs in a kaleidoscopic rain of words, making Eiji’s mind twirl in a cyclone of two-hundred kilometers per hour. Eiji groans at the throbbing in his head, made more severe by the soft pet-name bestowed to him by this suspiciously too-kind stranger.

“Y’got no business callin’ me ‘at,” Eiji slurs brattily, though following his instructions as obedient as a lapdog. He rests his chin in the space between his neck and shoulder, feeling flaxen wisps tickle his cheek. His citronnade hair glows as he carefully steps into his house, flicking the lights on.

“If not ‘babe,’ what d’you prefer? Buttercup? Bunny?” Eiji’s heart sinks and he lets out this frustrated, whinnied noise from the exhale of his nostrils. His voice has this kind of playfulness to it and it makes Eiji hotter than he already is, melting right onto his back like molten wax. “I know for a fact you love that one.”

“Eiji. E-I-J-I. That’s my name! Given t’me by my mother on a sunny day in Izumo!” Eiji whines, childishly untangling himself from him. The guy’s got quick reflexes, quickly sliding the door shut and pressing Eiji back against it before he could fall back and split his cranium open like a watermelon. “Lemme go! I can walk! I can—”

He only presses harder against him, making sure that Eiji feels the ridges of his shoulder blades against his chest and the small of his back on his pelvis. Somehow, this gesture’s got him absolutely winded, deflating all of the air in his lungs and promptly making him shut up for a second to take the situation in. He’s currently got this handsome foreigner in his home. Has Eiji against the door, vulnerable and powerless. It didn’t help that everything was spinning in counterclockwise circles, making every viable route to safety unclear.

Oh.

He smells so nice, like freshly brewed lapsing tea. Like what a fireplace feels like after trudging in a blizzard. Snug. Homey.

He likes it.

It stirs something in him, titillates him in a complete sensory overload that he feels like he could explode.

“You have a very beautiful name, Eiji,” he tells him suddenly, and Eiji has no choice, zilch, but to stop and reconsider his tactics. “Your mother must’ve loved you very much to give you such a meaningful name.” Eiji cocks his head to the side, taking in his profile and blinking as if it’d make his vision sharper.

His heart races, the man’s voice suddenly doesn’t sound so ear-splitting. It thumps right there in his breast and he’s scared to death that the man can feel just what he’s doing to him, condensing him into a vat of mandarine marmalade. Eiji wonders what’s going on in his meandering mind and sort-of, kind-of wants to eat up every one of his words and follow its winding path down to madness. He knows just what to say, how to say it. Knows the right inflection to get Eiji’s mouth to dry, get him weak at the knees.

“I’m tired,” Eiji whispers, surrendering himself to the currents. “Take me to my room. Take me to my room upstairs and leave right away.”

“Yeah. Of course,” he says. “Anything for you.”

He trudges up in slow careful steps. The wooden steps creak under their weight and Eiji feels like he’s lived that sound time and time again with someone he can’t seem to remember right now. Racing up and down. Sitting there as they blow on their morning coffee. Being pressed against the railing, kissed and tasted when they were both too impatient to make it upstairs. Eiji closes his eyes to dive back into those memories to search for a face to match the hole in the portrait of his every day.

The man staggers into his room and fumbles for the light switch before bee-lining to the bed to rest him down. Eiji unlinks from him a little reluctantly, scooting back to the far side of the bed away from upon realization that he misses the warmth radiating from his body.

“Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he coos from the other edge of the mattress, promptly shrugging his hoodie off and tossing it to the ground.

Eiji purses his lips and looks out the window at the deep violet crepuscule, yearning for something he knows he shouldn’t have.

“You should.... You should probably go now,” Eiji tells him unsteadily, voice absent of any conviction.

The man crawls over to him, peridot eyes obscured by his threadlike hair and all of the alarms in Eiji’s head goes off at once. Even so, he lets it all unfold; lets him be close to him just for a second as if to test the waters. Eiji holds his breath until he’s blue, examining his eyes for a motive. He’s got him so entranced that it takes a minute for Eiji to realize he’s laying next to him, facing him, holding his hand.

“I’ve got a boyfriend."

“A boyfriend,” he echoes back with a hint of amusement, like the very thought of him with a significant other is nothing short of risible.

“Yes! And he won’t like it if he sees you here!”

“He’s… Right here?”

“You dope. Weirdo! My boyfriend’s nothin’ like you!” To be honest, Eiji can’t really remember what he looks like right now, but he feels it strongly there in his heart. Remembers the space between his fingers. The pink scars that mar his ivory skin. The shape of his lips. “I love him very much!”

“Uh?” Eiji can see him blinking his eyes in disbelief. He’s making fun of me. “Er, I mean, pfffft. What’s so lovable about this guy, anyways? Can’t be better than me.”

Eiji furrows his brows and pouts, screwing his eyes shut to immerse himself in sensations of his beloved. “He’s smart and funny and the prettiest person, like, ever.”

“Is he prettier?” asks the man with hilarity, propping his head up on an elbow.

No comment.

“He makes the best omelets, and he reads me to bed— even when he’s tired! Gives me the best shoulder rubs! Lends me his jacket when I’m shivering outside so I don’t catch a cold ‘cause that’s just the kind of person he is!”

“Yeah?”

“He’s scared of pumpkins ‘n natto, but that don’t change that he’s kind ‘n sweet ‘n caring! I love him, more than anyone! More than myself!”

“This guy sounds like a real looney if you ask me,” he chuckles.

“He’s… My bestest friend in the whole world. He’s—” But before Eiji can blather more about his significant other, the man hovers over him and captures him mid-sentence; coaxes him into a kiss before he can make a bigger fool out of himself. Eiji squeaks out in bewilderment, offended that this man had rudely cut him off as he was loudly professing his affection for the entire neighborhood to hear.

He kisses him kind, kisses him sweet, kisses him caring; strokes him with lava-dipped fingertips on the curve of his hip and further up, careful to not overstep the border between simple lip-locking and slightly-more-than-lip-locking.

Eiji’s only ever been in bloom when he’s with him. They fit together like needle to threadbare, making floral embroideries with every press of their peony lips. He traces vines and leaves onto Eiji with every caress of his finger on his cheek, his neck, his shoulders. The way he’s sprouting flowers onto his forehead finally gives Eiji a moment of clarity.

“He’s... me,” Ash whispers.

Everything finally clicks into place.

“You’re you.”

“Mm-hmm. And you’re sweet.” Ash taps his nose.

“Where did you go?”

“Was always here.”

Exhausted and waiting out the last dregs of his intoxication, he pulls Ash’s head into his chest and cradles him, breathes him in.

“Then stay the night.”

“Kinda planned on it.”

#my writing #ash lynx #eiji okumura #asheiji #banana fish #this is in case i don't finish my fic for ash's bday lol #this is an old chapter from my ficlet collection #deleted because the ending was ooc but edited for tumblr #if you've read this before #no you haven't skjdfbkjabf #fic

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jobean12-blog · 4 years

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Captivated

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 824

Summary: You and Bucky have been working through his list of movies to see. A suggestion from Steve takes your move night to a new level.

Author’s Note: This is for the continuation of the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabbles and the great prompt sent in below by @prunes-said-bucky Thank you and I hope you like it! Thank you all for reading! Much love❤❤❤

Warnings: cursing, flirting, implied smut, perhaps a small metal arm kink, Bucky’s thighs... ;)

“Hey Buck, you want the caramel popcorn or regular?” you yell from the kitchen. When he doesn’t answer you turn around to ask again only to find yourself face to face with his chest, “oh, there you are, I was just asking…” “Definitely caramel,” he smirks down at you. Ducking your head to hide your blush you mumble a, “sounds good,” and grab a bowl.

Ever since Steve suggested you help Bucky get through his ‘movie list,’ Bucky has been more attentive and flirtier with you. Many of your movie nights are spent huddled close in ways that make it easy for him to be touching you and his choice of words always make you wonder if there is a double meaning to them.

You like him so deciding to just play along is an easy decision. Carrying the bowl and your drink to the couch you settle in, taking a sip, and asking Bucky, “so what did you pick?” He scrolls through his phone, checking the list with an “ummmm, wait a sec, Steve told me which one we should watch. He said you may have seen it already, but I would love it.”

“That’s ok, I’ve seen a lot of them, but you’re right I don’t mind.” With a smile he says, “ah ha! Ok, here it is.” Putting down his phone he starts typing the title into the search bar, ‘basic ins…’ You nearly choke on your drink. “Woah, doll, you ok? What happened?” he asks, gently rubbing your back as you catch your breath. “Sorry, went down the wrong pipe,” you croak out, eyes wide as you see trailer for ‘basic instinct’ pop up.

“Great, here it is! Ooo a thriller! Cool, I usually do like these. Have you seen it?” Nodding, you take another long sip of your drink, “not in a long time though.” Grabbing the bowl of popcorn, Bucky sits back, his legs spread wide with his thigh brushing yours. You try to get comfortable, but you can’t remember how steamy the sex scenes get and your mind is racing with all the different possibilities.

“Sharon Stone was so pretty in this,” you blurt out, trying to slow your brain. Bucky leans close, whispering, “she is, but she has nothing on you, doll.” You make a face, scoffing, “pfffft, Buck, come on! You’re just being nice.” You can feel his eyes on you. Braving a turn of your head your eyes land on his lips, mere inches from your face. “Thanks,” you whisper, audibly swallowing and hoping your cheeks aren’t as bright red as they feel.

A loud sound from the movie catches your attention and you look back to the TV, inwardly cringing as you start to remember what happens next. As the scene unfolds you try to slow your breathing, knowing under normal circumstances this wouldn’t do much for you. But sitting next to Bucky with his hard body pressed against your side and his musky scent invading your senses is making it hard to control yourself.

You dare a glance his way, the whirring and flexing of his metal hand doing nothing to help your rapid breathing. Tearing your eyes away from his hand you let them wander up his arm and over his broad chest, its fast rise and fall making you wonder if he’s just as affected as you are. “I uh, need more to drink, be right back,” you squeak before rushing into the kitchen.

Letting out a loud breath you try to clear your head, still feeling the heat of his body even in his absence. You pull your sweater over your head, the feel of the cool air hitting your skin a much-needed relief. “Y/n.” Whirling around you see Bucky standing on the other side of the island, his gaze heated as it travels the length of your body.

Bucky doesn’t say another word, his eyes locked on yours as he rounds the corner, stalking you like prey. You walk backward, not out of fear, but because he looks like he wants to devour you and you aren’t going to stop him. When he finally reaches you, your back is against the wall and your chest is heaving. He lifts his metal hand, smoothing it over the swell of your breasts and down your stomach. Shivering, you let out a gasp, Bucky’s response a low growl that has you reaching out for him.

In one swift motion he has your wrists pinned above your head, the cool metal a sharp contrast to your heated skin. Pressing his body flush to yours he whispers against your lips, “I’ll stop if you want me to, baby.” Brushing your nose over his jaw you roll your hips into him with a firm, “no.” Pushing his thick thigh between your legs he watches as your lips part in a loud moan. “Fuck doll, I’m gonna take you for one hell of a ride.”

@aesthetical-bucky @book-dragon-13 @buckys-broody-muffin @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @itsunclebucky @ikaris-whore @jewelofwinter @jewels2876 @jhangelface0523 @loricameback @littleredstarfish @littledarlinhavefaithinme @marvelgirl7 @metal-armed-cuddly-dork @mushyjellybeans @marvelandotherfandomimagines @devynsdiary @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @softpeachbarnes @sallycanwait68 @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluf #bucky fluff #bucky smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan #hbc drunk drabbles

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lowkeyhockey · 5 years

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stronger than my demons - nolan patrick

Pairing: Nolan Patrick/University Student!Reader

Mentions: Travis Konecny

Warnings: Description of depression and anxiety, curse words. Does not follow the “canon timeline” of this season (:

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Nolan makes a bad day better. He always does.

* * * * * * * * * *

With Nolan gone, without his arms to hold you firm, you fall asleep sometime in the middle of the pink-tinted hours of the pre-dawn and wake around noon. You wake and immediately try to remember what time your thoughts had finally decided to take a break, to give you a break. There’s no way you’d gotten a full night’s rest, or even a half night’s rest — but maybe you’d gotten enough that you wouldn’t feel a failure at even sleeping.

When your mind decides to race ahead of you the way it’s been doing lately, it always feels like your own brain is a whole other entity from you, like it’s an enemy you just can’t seem to beat. How are you supposed to beat yourself, anyway? In what universe would you not end up the loser, however the battle ends up going?

You wake with resentment heavy on your tongue, thick in the back of your throat, you wake cold and alone and praying for the clock on your bedside table to show you an hour closer to dusk because that would at least mean that you have fewer hours of the day to get through.

But you wake at noon, with the sun directly overhead as though judging you for your sins — and that means you haven’t missed Nolan’s lunchtime call. He never misses it, calls exactly once at half past twelve whenever he’s away. Doesn’t matter if he’s just out for lunch with Travis or if he’s mid-roadie. He calls. Just once, though, and if you don’t pick up when he does he just waits for you to call him back.

And he never blames you for it.

Sometimes you’re asleep, insomnia or a late-night burst of productivity hitting you hard enough that you destroy whatever semblance your sleep cycle had to an actual functioning thing. Sometimes you’re in class, and you dig your phone out to text him an i love you and an on tuesdays i have biochem, remember? and sometimes an oh my god prof anderson’s even more boring than usual this week.

On Tuesdays he’d text back an i love you more, like it’s a competition and like he genuinely believes he’s winning, he’d text you a new science meme he found online, he’d text you a focus on ur prof anyway, and stop checking out your TA.

You’d always reply to the last one with a sneaky pic of your TA, usually while he’s bent over one of your classmates’ desks to explain a concept to them in detail. There’s a reason why your classmates keep asking him to explain the most basic of things, and it’s not just because he’s incredibly enthusiastic about doing it.

But it’s — Thursday, you think, you’re not quite sure, but it’s media day for the flyers and that means that Nolan’s probably going to be busy all day. For the second time since you’d woken up, you pray - for a moment - for time to move faster than it’s doing.

A peek at the clock tells you that your prayer’s gone unanswered, and — hey, at least that gets you to direct your annoyance outward. To the clock, to god, maybe, or just to the concept of time.

But because you still have about twenty five minutes before Nolan’s call, you climb - slowly - out of bed and head to the bathroom — if nothing else, you could at least brush your teeth before he calls you. That’s how he pushes you, when he’s there in person: just brush your teeth, babe, or just have some of the toast i made, i’ll make more if you decide you’re hungry or it’s okay if you don’t hit the gym today, Newton’s been whining for another walk.

And you both know by now that things are always easier after you’ve taken the first step. You brush your teeth, shower, even go through your (pretty basic) skincare routine before Nolan’s Facetime request pops up on your screen.

By the the time you accept the call, you’re feeling halfway-human again, though you’re in one of Nolan’s ratty old Wheat Kings jerseys and not your own clothes. You manage a smile for him, tired and - at the same time, and just from seeing his face - not, smile widening as he swings his phone sharply around.

You see something like a patch of orange fur flying through the air, Nolan ducking it just in time, and you hope that he hadn’t just dodged Gritty. God, were parts of Gritty - aside from his bellybutton patch - detachable?

Nolan laughs, the low, rumbling sound making you smile a little wider, even as you’re wishing that he’s there with you so that you can feel the sound. Nolan’s a grade A clinger when you both have the energy for it - you know exactly how his laughter feels when his chest is plastered against your back.

“I’m under attack, babe,” he tells you, and you think that you’re looking better than you feel, because he’s grinning at you with flushed cheeks and messy hair, a disaster of a masterpiece of a person and he’s not trying to quiet himself down for you.

Nolan is - well, most people would think of him as quiet. private, even secretive, restrained. But he trusts you, and even on the days when you feel more walking dead than alive he feels like there’s more of the world to see - and feel, and experience - when he’s sharing it with you.

He tries to quiet himself - makes himself soft and safe, soothing and easy - when he knows you’re having a rough day. But you love him when he’s like this, too.

Okay - in all fairness, you love all versions of him.

“Baaaaaaabe,” he whines at you, still grinning, and you realise that you’ve been staring.

“Is it Gritty, baby?” you ask, and you can feel yourself grinning back now — it feels like a mask stretched thin over your face, but it feels real, too. “You know I’m not getting in Gritty’s way. Ever.”

“Fuck, no, I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” he promises you, and he’s turning again, the camera catching a shirtless Carter Hart in the background. They’re in the locker room, you think, and even though the other guys might be there too, you make sure to wolf-whistle at him.

Hartsy looks up to grin at you, giving a small, awkward wave that you think means he’s still a little shy with you, and Nolan swings the camera around again — this time so that his face is filling the screen, and he’s arching an eyebrow up at you.

“It was Teeks, actually. You wanna flirt with him too?” he asks, and it’s your turn to laugh — and it’s like something slips off your shoulders when you do, a weight you hadn’t known you’d been carrying.

“Think he still likes me after the last girl I hooked him up with?” you ask — you haven’t had the time or energy to hang out with TK in a while, thirty minutes with him is about as much social interaction as you’d get from five hours with literally anyone else, but the last time you did hang out together there had been a fourth person there, a lab partner you’d had earlier in the semester.

Teeks had seen her profile picture in your Whatsapp chat - he had zero sense of boundaries or personal space - and had insisted on an introduction. And, as it turned out, he’d come to regret it.

“Fuck you, she talks like she’s spitting out a dictionary,” you hear Teeks shouting from somewhere, and Nolan turns away from the phone - and from you - then, though you recognise the furrow in his brow even from his profile.

“Dude, I told you not to talk about her friends like that,” he tells his friend, sounding disapproving and stern, and Teeks - who’s the opposite of serious, especially when it’s Nolan being serious - goes pfffft in reply.

“You said to not call her a n-e-r-d, and i didn’t,” Teeks shoots back, like you’re a genius who just happens to be incapable of spelling, and you’re laughing again.

Nolan turns back to face you, then makes a face like he’d just been jabbed before he angles the camera so that you can see Teeks, too, maybe standing on tiptoe so he can hook his chin over Nolan’s shoulder.

“‘Nerd’ isn’t a bad word,” you tell both boys, mock-serious like you’re settling a dispute, and TK pumps a fist in the air.

“Y/N can say it, she is one,” Nolan protests, and you’re making a squawk of - exaggerated - affront while he goes bright red.

“You know what, Teeks? You can have him,” you tell them, and then it’s Nolan’s turn to make a sound of protest. Instead of pumping his fist again, though, TK makes a face like he’s considering it before shoving Nols aside - you’re giggling when he stumbles, but when he straightens up again he’s all yours.

“We’re having lunch in a little bit, babe. Have you had anything to eat?”

You shake your head, feeling a little guilty, but Nolan looks unfazed.

“That’s okay, we’ll have an early dinner tonight, yeah? I miss you,” he says, the last words coming in a low mumble. You’ve been missing each other a lot - you had a summer internship as a research assistant while he’d gone home over the off-season, and even as the season’s coming back into swing now you’re feeling more pressure from a heavier courseload.

“Sounds perfect, Nols. I can’t wait.” And you’re not lying, not just trying to be good enough for him - pretending to be a girl capable of going out for dinner in the city. You don’t have to lie or pretend. If Nolan wants to have dinner out, you want to be there with him. And if later you decide you’re too tired, or too anxious to be surrounded by people, you know he’ll want to be with you - on the couch, in pyjamas, eating takeout and fighting over who’s getting the better fortune cookie.

“Love you,” you say to him in a whisper, even though there’s no one around you to laugh and tease about you being so mushy.

“Love you more,” he replies, each word crystal clear, and you see another orange thing flying by - still just Teeks? - right before you cut the call.

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #nhl imagine #philadelphia flyers #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #au where the flyers aren't suffering from lack of Stupid #lyss writes hockey

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oftachancer · 4 years

Text

Day 10: Surprise Kiss (14 Days of DA Lovers)

(From the as-yet-untitled modern au I’ve been developing with @johaeryslavellan, featuring her OC Inky Tristan and my OC Inky Aran. Surprise!)

[Tristan:]

“Run this by me again?” Tristan said, straightening Aran’s bow tie for the third time, “We just say ‘yes’ to whatever is suggested? By whoever?”

Aran nodded. “Barring the items on this list,” he tapped. “No public sex, no strangers, no drugs.” He lifted his brows, “Anything else you want to add?”

“If something comes up, I can still veto?”

“Tris,” he cupped Tristan’s cheek. “Yes. You can always veto anything, even if we’re not playing a game.”

Tristan hummed, nodding slowly. “Okay. Then I’m fine.” He ducked his head to hide a smile, “Let's do it.”

“Yes!” Aran hopped up and down, “I have been wanting to do this with you for years!”

“Don’t be indecent,” Tristan kissed him lightly. “Let’s go.”

“You like my games!” Aran cheered, “I hoped you’d like my games.”

“I like some of them,” the taller man rolled his eyes as they headed to the front door.

“Most.”

“Maybe.”

Sera huffed, “Finally. Maker, how long does it take you two to put clothes on?”

“When we take them off first?” Aran asked, grinning. “A while.”

“Have fun,” Cole waved from the couch, cuddling his bowl of popcorn and settling in to watch his documentary about sea lions.

“First one of the night is yours, Cole,” Aran winked. “Yes, we will have fun!”

“Yes, we will,” Tristan echoed.

The night was snow-flocked, the glowing street lights reflecting brightly off the glittering white. Aran tucked his hand into the pocket of Tristan’s coat, twining their fingers together as they strolled down the street. Something about the snow made everything feel quieter, calmer, even though they could hear music and laughter from the others out and about, sharing the evening with them.

“So we just walk?” Tristan asked, glancing to his side where Aran and Sera walked arm in arm.

“Yep.”

“And… ‘let the universe guide us’.”

“Yep.”

“And what happens if it doesn’t?”

“Then it guides us to walk for a long time in the snow, together, and that’s great,” Aran smiled up at him.

Tristan chuckled, kissing him on the forehead. “Okay.”

And they did walk. Straight forward, up the high street, through the park towards campus.

“Hey! Do you guys like comedy?”

Aran grinned, nudging Tristan in the side.

“Yes, we do,” Tristan turned to the student with her stack of fliers.

“Really?” The young woman asked, blinking. “No one ever says yes.”

“We love comedy,” Aran echoed.

“That’s- oh, that’s great! Well, we’ve got two for one drinks at the Seed Club if you pay a cover charge of five royals for the show. Stand up, all night.”

“Right! Give us the flier.” Sera snapped her fingers and accepted the paper from the girl. “Thank you! Good luck!”

“Thank you!”

“See? We made her night,” Aran grinned as they headed in the direction of the Seed Club.

The Seed Club was a tiny, dark space down a flight of stairs from the street. The trio carried their drinks, double-fisted, to a small table and sat down as the comic was finishing his act.

“Next up, we have the Wise-cracking Wizard, Willem the Foe!”

Sera cheered loudly, stomping her feet, as Aran clapped and Tristan toasted the stage with his watered-down gin.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Willem stammered, flushed. “Everyone having a good night?”

“Yes!” they called back, laughing.

“Great! Great! So, I’ve got a few jokes here. Seeing as how… it’s a comedy show. So.” He shuffled some cards in his hands, “Okay. So, yesterday, my best friend auditioned to be the trumpet player in an orchestra. He blew it.”

Sera snickered.

“I bet everyone wants to hear a joke about ghosts, right?” Aran cheered, making Willem blush, “That's the spirit!”

“Oh, Maker,” Tristan finished his first glass and eyed the two idiots chortling beside him. Three comics and nine terrible drinks later, he was resting his chin in his hands and wondering if he should have agreed to Truth or Dare at home. Only… the idiots were having so much fun. Maybe he just needed to… embrace his inner idiot. But hadn’t he already done that, just agreeing to this silliness to begin with? The key must be to commit. Just commit whole-heartedly to the game. The game was the thing that was fun, not the terrible comedians.

“Oh, hey! Do you remember that joke I told you about my spine?”

“Yes!” he called.

The guy on stage paused, squinting into the audience to stare at him. “Uh…” he cleared his throat, finishing lamely: “It was… it was about a weak back.”

Aran ducked his head, laughing into his hand.

“You guys fucking with me?”

“Yes!” Sera grinned.

“Seriously. This shit isn’t easy, okay? You think you can do better?”

They looked at each other, then looked at Tristan.

He sighed, “Yes.”

“Fuck you!”

“Point of order: was that a question?” Sera asked.

“No, knife-ear, that was a fuck you. You wanna fight me, bitch?”

She narrowed her eyes, “I didn’t. But now? Oh, yeah.” She stood up.

Tristan scowled, rising. “Just apologize and we’ll go.”

“Me apologize? Screw you; you fucked up my set.”

“I may have done. But that doesn’t give you the right to speak to my friend that way. So apologize to her. Then I’ll apologize to you. And then we’ll leave.”

“Sure.” He turned to Sera, holding his hands out, “Bite me, you knife-eared whore.”

Tristan growled under his breath and then swore as Aran scrambled over the table and towards the stage. He grabbed hold of Aran, hoisting him back before he could leap onto the guy. “Calm down.”

“He wants to fight, let me fight him,” Aran spat.

Tristan struggled to hold him, gritting his teeth as he watched Sera as if in slow motion approach the stage just as the emcee hurried up to guide the ‘comedian’ off the stage. “Right! Okay! So we’re going to take a little intermission and be back with more laugh attacks in ten minutes.”

Sera snapped her teeth as the guy was guided forcibly from the stage. “He deserved a good bite.”

“We are… so, so sorry,” the manager hurried over to them. “They’re all first-timers. Not everyone knows how to respond to crowds, but I swear, we don’t allow for any racism here. We absolutely don’t approve of that language.”

“Good.”

“Can we offer you anything? Free drink passes, maybe!”

Sera stared at her, “...yes,” she muttered.

“Great! Thank you so much!” She held out a handful of cards, “We sincerely apologize and promise we will make sure nothing like this happens again.”

“Yes,” Sera pocketed the passes and headed towards the door. “Let’s go, okay?”

“Yes,” Aran agreed, walking with her up to the street.

“Shit,” Tristan sighed as they stepped into the snow. “I’m sorry. I was trying to play along. I didn’t think-“

“That the shit jester would be a racist prick? I think that was a surprise to everyone, right.” Sera rolled her eyes, waving to a couple heading in past them. “Hey, you two want free drinks?” She offered the passes to the grateful pair. “Okay, what next?”

“We go home?” Tristan asked.

“Home?!” Sera exclaimed. “On ‘say yes’ night? Pfffft.”

“You still want to play? After all that?”

“Of course! I’m not going to let him ruin the game.” She tucked her arm through his, “But let’s not stay here, because they’re probably going to kick the dickhead out and, if he talks to me again, I will bite him.”

Tristan nodded, noting Aran simmering. “Your call, Sera. Right or left.”

“Left,” she decided and started off with him in tow.

“Aran?”

Aran’s scowled, trudging along behind them, casting dark looks back over his shoulder. “They’re going to give him a slap on the wrist and let him go on being an asshole.”

“Yeah, well.”

“It’s fucking irritating.”

“Yep.” Sera wiggled her fingers back at him and scooped him up to her other side. “Now let it go. Ah ah- no-“ she shook his head, “It wasn’t you he called names, right. I get to say how we react; we’re letting it go because tonight is ‘say yes’ night and that means you have to.”

Aran exhaled hard but chucked his chin in the barest approximation of a nod. “Fine.”

“Good.”

“Either of you ever licked a lamppost in winter?” she asked cheerily.

“Veto!” Tristan rushed, “I veto that. I don’t want to spend the night in hospital.”

She snickered. “Fine. Clinic? If there are assholes there, Bull can deal with them.”

Tristan glanced at Aran, then nodded. “Agreed. The Clinic.”

[Aran:]

“I’m sorry,” Aran whispered as they followed Sera through the phone booth in the back of the laundromat and down the stairs into the Clinic.

“For what?”

“I was mad at you for not letting me hit that guy.” Aran chewed his lip. “But you were right. That would have been stupid.”

“Not stupid,” Tristan disagreed. “Just more trouble than he was worth. And our job is to support her as much as she wants us to. She could have taken him. He would have deserved it if she had.”

Aran kissed his shoulder. “Thank you for being my voice of reason.”

“Thank you for teaching me to be impulsive.” Tristan tilted his chin up, peering down at him with a long, slow look that hit Aran like a barrel of rich bourbon.

“Kiss me?” Aran asked quietly.

“Yes,” Tristan breathed with feeling and kissed him until he thought he might float right off the ground.

“Can’t leave you alone for two minutes,” Sera griped.

Aran braced himself against Tristan, inhaling and exhaling slowly and carefully. “Dizzy.”

“No shit. Come on; the game’s still on.” She dragged them both bodily after her into the bar. “You get drinks.” She shoved Aran towards the bar. “You change the music,” she shoved Tristan towards the old jukebox. “Have to keep them separated,” she winked at Bull.

“They give you any trouble, Sera, you just let me know.”

“Yes, I will! Hear that, boys?”

“Bossy,” Aran pouted, heading for the bar. The crowd was thick, but pleasant. He wound his way past familiar faces and hopped up to sit on the end of the bar to wait his turn.

“Hi, I’m Klewin.”

Aran glanced from the hand up to the smiling face of the redhead. “Hi, Klewin. I’m Aran.”

“Good to meet you, Aran.”

“Same.”

“So… you come here often?” Aran winced internally for the stranger. “I’m just wondering if sitting on the bar is a thing we’re all allowed to do.”

“Ooh,” Aran laughed. “Good save.”

“Thank you; I try. So, is it?”

Aran shrugged. “I think as long as you don’t stand on it, you’re okay. The bartender gets a mite tetchy about scuff marks.”

Klewin climbed up on the bar next to him. “It’s like you can see everything from up here.”

He grinned, “That’s pretty much why I sit here. Otherwise, it’s all chins and bobbing heads.”

“Tops of heads are much better.”

“Yeah,” Aran bit his lip on a laugh. “Sometimes.”

“Hey, you.” Anders brushed his spine, “Inviting other people to your perch?”

“Apparently. Klewin, this is Anders. Anders, Klewin. Klewin was just telling me he likes looking at the tops of peoples’ heads.”

“I’m so sorry, that sounded way more perverted than I meant it to.”

Aran winked. “See? I found you a pervert. Where’s my reward?”

Anders laughed, tugging him down to kiss his cheek. “I thought you were having a night out.”

“I am out; it is night. I have been tasked with procuring the drinks.”

“Okay, what’ll it be?”

“Yes.”

Anders lifted his brows. “It’s ‘yes’ night?”

Aran grinned, “Yes.”

“He’s letting you do ‘yes’ night?”

Aran wiggled his brows. “Yes.”

“Oh, this is priceless.”

“What’s ‘yes night’?” Klewin asked.

Anders poked Aran in the chest, “You go find a place to sit and I’ll send Lace to you with drinks.” He leaned to Klewin, “You stay right there and try to think of other terrible pick up lines. I’ll be right back.”

“Nice to meet you,” Aran shook Klewin’s hand. “Have fun!”

“What’s ‘yes night’, though?”

[Tristan:]

Tristan frowned at the jukebox, listening as the first notes of the song soaked into the chatter and laughter.

“Not your usual taste, is it?”

He turned to find Dorian smiling down at him from the row of booths above. “Trying new things tonight. Almost fought a comedian earlier.”

Dorian gazed down at him with mock-horror. “There’s a story. Come up and tell it to me?”

Tristan glanced towards the bar to see Aran laughing with a guy sporting a mop of red hair. Talking. Just talking. No strangers, they’d agreed. He trusted Aran. He’d gotten used to seeing him with Anders more and more, but still… still, it ached to see him free and easy with other other people. That was different. “Yes,” he said softly, crossing around to the stairs and settling in across from Dorian. He cleared his throat, “So, there’s a game.”

“A game about fighting comedians?”

“About saying yes.”

“Ah.” Dorian tapped his ear, “I see.”

“Right.”

“Seems like something that might get one into a host of trouble. Indiscriminately agreeing to things.”

Tristan chuckled wryly, looking down. “I think that might be part of the point.”

Dorian hummed softly. “Not enjoying the game overmuch?”

“It’s easier for them,” Tristan sighed, tracing drink rings on the table. “Sometimes I think everything is.”

“Do you?”

He shrugged. “Free as the wind, damn the consequences…” he shook his head. “I suppose I just don’t like risk as much.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“No. I know.” Tristan smiled weakly. “But there are some benefits to taking risks. I learned that with you, didn’t I?”

Dorian smoothed his fingers over his mustache, concealing the curve of his lips even as his eyes twinkled. “There is that.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Tristan sighed. “It’s just… more difficult. And that makes me feel like a bit of a buzzkill sometimes.” He cleared his throat, “Sorry. A buzzkill and a downer. What, uh, what were you doing here?”

“You needn’t apologize to me.”

Tristan glanced up, nodding. “Thanks.”

“Here you are!” Aran rounded the corner of the booth with a wide grin. “What’d I miss?”

“I picked a song.”

“Good choice,” Aran dropped to rest his chin on the edge of the table. “Are we sitting here?”

“Yes,” Dorian said before Tristan could speak up. “I hear that’s the name of the game.” He glanced at Tristan with a small nod. “If that’s all right?”

Aran drummed the table, laughing, “Yes! More the merrier!” He stepped up onto the booth and waved towards the bar, pointing down, then hopped off and dropped into the booth beside Dorian, facing Tristan. “Anders said he’d send us drinks when I found a seat. Where’s Sera?”

Tristan shrugged, eyeing Dorian curiously. His heart thundered in his chest. Had he ever seen them side by side like this? His two boyfriends. How had he come to have two boyfriends in a matter of months, after so long on his own? Of course, the answer was obvious, staring at him with a wide, crooked grin.

Aran. Topsy-turvy, risk-taking, free-wheeling Aran with his strange games and wild impulses and long-winded pontifications on syntax and rhyme when all Tristan saw was the beauty of the poem. Aran, covered in constellations he couldn’t appreciate and scars he wasn’t ashamed of. Aran, who was happily explaining the rules of his game to Dorian, including him, bringing him in, welcoming Tristan’s other heart-holder with open arms, like he did everyone. A living embrace.

And Dorian… Dorian who was always so careful and clever, joining into risk-taking mischief… for him, he realized. To keep him company. To just be with him. Even though he’d been warned. Dorian, who saw layers to the world beyond what others saw, and who saw layers of Tristan beyond what others saw, too. Dorian, debonair and devious, dark to Aran’s light, both of them so incredibly comfortable in their own skin.

Dorian tapped his fingers against his, smiling with a small comforting nod, and Tristan walked his fingers up to play with the rings on his fingers, watching Aran’s smile deepen. Maker, he really was happy for him. For them both. Of course, he’d said as much, been supportive every step of the way, but it was different to watch him watch. Nothing but pure, clear pleasure in those eyes, softening in appreciation. Months he’d been listening to Aran tell him that he loved him. Days and nights he’d felt the words and meaning shiver through and over him. And again and again, he found he’d underestimated his friend. He kept expecting him to love less than he claimed. There were many little things Aran did that drove him mad and got under his skin, but this… this look, this truth… Truth. Trust. He bit his lip and studied Dorian’s rings as Lace arrived with a tray of drinks. “Chef’s Special,” she announced.

Aran smiled, a little wistful, and stood up. “Thanks. Seen Sera?”

“Yup,” Lace smiled. “I’m stealing her now; you are my last table of the evening. There’s a late showing of Terra Fauna at the Regency I wanted to see and she said she’d join me. That’s okay, isn’t it? She said something about having to agree to things.”

“Yes, of course!” Aran nodded eagerly. “Craic on! Those are the rules!”

“I’ll have to ask her about them,” she laughed, serving out the glasses and accepting the tip Aran tucked into her apron. “Thanks.”

“Aye.” Aran picked up one of the glasses and toasted them lightly. “And you as well: have fun,” he winked.

“Where are you going?” Tristan asked quietly.

“Oh,” Aran shrugged. “Dunno. Wandering. No worries.”

“Aran.”

“Seriously, mate, it’s totally- it’s great, yeah? I know this isn’t your thing. It’s been a weird one. We can catch up later.”

“Stay here.”

“Tris,” Aran cleared his throat. “It’s not a big deal.”

He held out a hand, feeling his heart thudding loud in his ears. “Will you stay here?” he asked, lifting his brows.

Aran chewed his lip, glancing between them. “...yes?” he asked quietly.

“Right answer.”

He dropped down into the booth beside Dorian, ears red with awkward pleasure that reminded Tristan of a dozen moments he’d caught his friend off guard before. Happy. He was happy. Happy to leave. Happier to stay. He swiped his fingers across his eyes, busying himself with moving the glasses to their respective spots. “Well. I guess this means you get Sera’s drink,” he told Dorian.

“I guess I do.”

Tristan cleared his throat, flexing his hand silently, the rings of the tree wiggling with the motion. And he watched Aran’s lip tremble as he bit it. Fuck, he thought, that is love. How much is he still holding back? How much has he still not shown me? Aran stretched out his left hand, pressing their matching palms together with a squeeze.

“So, boys night out,” he joked, not willing to admit he was weepy. He lifted his glass. “Toast?”

Tristan squeezed both their hands, feeling the bass from the jukebox and the thud of his pulse from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. “To what?”

“You?” Aran nudged Dorian’s shoulder. “We should toast to him, right?”

“I have to say ‘yes’, don’t I?” Dorian teased.

“Catches on quick, this one. Might even get a doctorate someday.”

Dorian chuckled, lifting his fresh glass, “To Tristan, then.”

“I don’t have a free hand,” Tristan wrinkled his nose.

“Madman,” Aran laughed. “You can’t toast yourself, mate; you’d be a narcissist.”

“Can’t have that,” Dorian agreed.

“Void and Dark, can you imagine if he admitted how wonderful he is?”

“We’d never hear the end of it.”

“Day in, day out,” Aran grinned. “The endless list.”

“Talented,” Dorian sighed.

“Oh, sure. Talented. Sporting!”

“Right. Clever.”

“Too clever by half!”

“By three quarters!”

They clinked glasses as Tristan felt air rushing through his ears. Through them? Into them? Under them? His chest was vibrating. Was that the music? The bass?

“We can't even start on the looks, can we?” Aran asked, crossing his eyes.

“Oh, we shouldn’t,” Dorian shook his head. “We’d be here all night.”

“I mean, his hair alone would take a night, aye?”

Dorian nodded sagely. “And then the eyes.”

“Forget it!” Aran squeezed his hand, warm. Watching. Flushed with his ability to make him blush. “And that spot just below the ear,” he whistled under his breath. “It’d take me a solid day to register everything I liked about it.”

“Right or left?”

“Tough call,” Aran hissed. “Left?”

“You take left, I’ll take right. We can save a day of our lives right there;” Dorian’s dark eyes danced with delight.

“Sharing is caring.”

“Oh, if you like each other so much, you should just kiss and get it over with.”

They stared at him and Tristan could not blame them at all. He would have stared at himself if he could. In fact, he had a sudden strangling urge to run for the nearest water closet and stare in the mirror screaming ‘what? What? What was that? Where did that come from?’

Then he watched as Aran, as if in slow-motion, turned to Dorian and tilted his head, “Well. I mean… the game is ‘say yes’. I don’t make the rules.”

And Dorian watched him for a moment longer, curious, and dampened his lower lip. “Get it over with, yes?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Very well.” Dorian coughed into the back of his hand, eyeing Aran. “Right or left?”

Aran shrugged, eyes crossing, “Dunno.” He tilted his head back and forth, and landed to the left, “Here’s good. That work?”

Dorian snorted softly, “It’s a ridiculous game.”

“Yeah, that’s the idea.”

“Ah well.” Dorian leaned forward and brushed his lips over Aran’s.

And Tristan felt his heart stop.

[Aran:]

Aran blinked, then blinked again, staring at Dorian’s eyelids as lips brushed against his. He could have sworn Tristan was going to say something, call it off, veto. He’d been preparing jokes, teases… he couldn’t remember any of them at the moment, but he was sure there’d been… something… funny. Something funny about this. Something… What must it be like for them to kiss each other? Did rose petals cascade from the ceiling whenever they touched lips? Did Chantry bells chime sweetly on distant hills? How could something this light and lingering be so bloody pleasant? It wasn’t fair at all. Life was unfair and cruel. But at least now he would be able to think about this every time he sent Tristan off for his dates. What nice, fond thoughts those would be. Maker, his brows were sculpted, weren’t they? Not a hair out of place, even this close. How was that possible? And his eyelashes were long. Longer than they seemed. Dark and soft like ravens’ feathers.

Oh, breathing.

He needed to breathe. He inhaled quickly, lips parting with the sudden effort and then there was… lips and tongue and tongue, Maker save him, slick and hot and tasting of the gin cocktail Anders had thoughtfully sent over for the one bloke who hadn’t even tasted it. His eyes fluttered closed, weak, and he could feel his knee starting to quake under the table like a dog who’s had his neck scratched just right, and it was just right.

I did good, he congratulated himself silently as his breath was drawn out of him like smoke from incense. Oh, I did very good. I should set people up professionally. Tristan owes me at least a bottle of whisky for nudging him in the direction of this. This is… brilliant.

[Dorian:]

Brilliant. Dorian felt Aran’s lips part beneath his, the quick intake of breath, chilling. Brilliant, cold, diaphanous. The chip of ice still melting on the back of the fellow’s tongue. The sweetness of juniper curling around the smoke of whiskey. It shouldn’t have mixed well, but it did, perhaps due to the innate scent of fresh soil and southern evergreens that invaded his senses as he breathed. Breathed and tasted and took. He hadn’t expected the lips to be quite so soft, given the way the man terrorized them with his teeth. Nor had he expected them to give beneath his like snow melting under rain, given the intensity of his energy. But there he was, soft and folding and brilliant. Unexpected. Interesting. He leaned, twining his tongue against Aran’s, investigating, and found him more pliant still. Bending, breathing, a small coil of sound more vibration than noise curling up the length of his tongue to his own, buzzing his lips and humming down his own throat like a game of telephone. A game, he reminded himself, suddenly aware of the rapid pulse beneath his fingertips. Tristan’s pulse. Tristan’s hand still clasped with his as he… as he… He swam upwards out of sensation, breaking free with a gasp, and turned to find Tristan gaping at them open-mouthed.

To his right, he felt Aran sag, winded, against the back of the booth. “Right,” he breathed, sounding as shaken as Dorian felt. Sounding more willing to shrug and shake it off than Dorian was certain he could manage. “Well. That was a surprise. Good play.” He downed the rest of his glass in a single swig. “I’ll get another round, aye?”

He moved, then paused, caught. Anchored by Tristan’s unyielding grip on his hand.

Dorian touched his tongue to the back of his teeth, still feeling the cold sear of the kiss. “Tristan,” he murmured, searching the man’s expression. Maker, but he was always difficult to read, but this didn’t seem good. Eyes too wide. Lips still parted. Breath short. Pulse arhythmic beneath his fingers.

“Tris?” Aran asked softly, sliding back into the booth. “You just… take your time, okay?”

Dorian glanced at him, surprised by the sudden tenderness. The way he cupped Tristan’s hand between his own like something fragile and priceless. All his seemingly boundless energy suddenly focused and intent, pouring into the hand and the man it belonged to. ‘Sharing is caring’, he’d said.

“Just… give it a minute,” he said with a small nod. “It’s okay. Tris? Heart of my heart, you’ve got to breathe, mate, aye? Just breathe for me, love. Nice and slow.”

Tristan blinked slowly, swallowed visibly. Inhaled over a count of four and exhaled the same.

Dorian glanced between them, feeling the pulse continue to rush beneath his fingers. “Tristan…”

“Can you…” Tristan looked down, his gaze flicking between his hands clasping each of theirs.

“Anything,” Aran breathed, “Anything you need.”

Dorian nodded. “Truly.”

“Can you…” Tristan glanced up at them, cheeks stained red. “Can you do that again?”

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pretty-sure-mx-said-that · 5 years

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@thefriendlyjerk wanted to know how I got into all the situations from my MX Questionable Work post.....and, like, I never miss an opportunity to talk about myself so...

before we start: I chose these happenings from all the different places I worked at over the years (4 in total)..... just in case someone is questioning how the fuck I didn't get fired lmao

DUCKS: I'm from Florida so we get a shit-ton of rain in the summer, it's just normal. so normal, in fact, my boss asked me to take the trash out during a torrential downpour. so I walk out, and I hear a "peep". I see a mama duck and her babies trying to dodge the rain under a plastic chair (there isn't even a pond around, I have no clue how they got there...but hey, that's Florida)...looking wet and sad...so I after I dumped the trash I just.....led them inside...simple as that. all I did was hold some cover over them and they followed???? call me the duck whisperer

SANDWICH: look...I was in the toughest part of my college semester; I was stressed, tired, and hungry because I haven't had time to eat something decent. so when boss-lady brought in a bunch of Subway you can BET I did something about it. it was easy, I gotta big chest so I hid 'em well, walked right out of there. everyone suspected a thing, but no one gave a shit. I ate myself into a carb coma

CURTAIN: I honestly have no fucking clue. The only thing I remember was tripping while cleaning the curtains. everything went downhill from there

DISPLAY CASE: if you have ever worked a 24h retail job you will understand

VAPE PEN: if you ever worked at a smoke shop with a Virgo you will understand

EMO PLAYLIST: I needed to listen to something other than 70s country classics. this one actually got me fired but uhhhhhhhh worth it

CURSED: so this is when I worked at a Wiccan/Spiritualist supply store. the new kid is just starting out in the craft and thought working there would help him obtain knowledge. well, first week, the kid has a clumsy mishap and knocks over a display of black salt...that shit fell and spilled in a perfect circle. now, that isn't all bad of a sign, but wasting material? not great. but having it do That... interesting. so my coworker and I ran with it. we had him believe it was going to be the start of a horrible clumsy streak, and he was like "pfffft yeah right".....well.....he ended up having a clumsy week at work; he toppled a candle display, set the fire alarm off lighting incense, accidentally broke a selenite wand in half (which...um...not good)...... but he wasn't actually cursed.....anyway, he believed he was now and he asked us to do something about it. poor kid was on edge...so we helped him ""break"" his curse...mainly out of guilt because godDAMN WE DIDN'T THINK ANY OF THAT WOULD HAPPEN. everything was back to normal next day...

#i do dumb shit at work so you don't have to #not an incorrect quote #long post

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writer-and-artist27 · 5 years

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To Deliver a Gift

Disclaimer: I think this upcoming statement should be obvious, but considering Tumblr’s a hellsite and current problems with net neutrality, I’m saying it anyways for the sake of safety.

I don’t own anything but Tomoko. Kei belongs to @langwrites and Otoha to @owlsofstarlight.

The theme this time is from No Game No Life: Zero, being the soundtrack titled Touching Heart. Don’t worry, this fic is supposed to be more fluffy and hopeful this time, unlike the last time I used something from this movie. ;p For those of you who followed the OST Playlist on YouTube, let’s just say I had an initial idea in mind for this fic, but changed it for more positivity in the room. So there’s that.

“Hey, Kei?”

My first reincarnation buddy paused while polishing her kodachi with a cleaning cloth, whetstone nearby. She didn’t speak at first, choosing to put her sword down before giving me a curious glance. “What is it, Tomo?”

I tried not to fidget with the hem of my skirt, instead pressing my fingers together. It was a simple question. I could try to not squeak. “C-Could I ask you something?”

“Before that, Tomo?” Kei patted her left knee with a crooked smile. “Sit down next to me before your legs give out?”

I glanced down at my knees. Sure enough, they were shaking. Gosh darn it. I was working well on the voice, it just had to be something else that gave me away.

Deep breaths, dear, deep breaths. Breathe in, hold it, then breathe out.

I inhaled slowly, held it for a single second, and then walked over to sit down on my knees near Kei’s left side. Yes, I know it’s seiza, but being nervous means you do things out of habit, no matter how painful said things could be, and something that carried over from my time as Vy was the seiza position. Being Buddhist in a previous life meant learning it. The various tea ceremony lessons from Miyako-bachan simply reinforced that old lesson. “Can I ask now?”

“Yeah,” Kei said casually, pushing the whetstone away for more breathing space. Then again, of course she’d notice my tension. She was the sensor that pointed out my chakra going wonky with ninshu after all. “What’s up, Tomo?”

I exhaled the breath I was holding before inhaling once more, saying the darn thing in one quick breath. “D-Do you know what days Kuroha-san’s working at the hospital?”

My best friend huffed quietly, leaning back on her hands while looking up at the ceiling of her house. “Are you planning something, Tomo?” Kei paused before adding, “It sounds like you are. Delivery?”

Out of embarrassment at being caught, or just my own slight bit of shame at being so easy to read, heat was already flooding my face. “B-Banana bread. Was thinking of baking. Um. A-And bringing it over. Creepy Snake Man is enough to deal with already on a daily basis, and they mentioned working shifts at the hospital, so. Something sweet to help relieve stress?” There went my voice. It cracked. Again. Thankfully, the volume didn’t fluctuate to the point of it echoing in the entire house.

I could already feel Kei’s surprised stare into the side of my head before there was soft laughter.

Out of old habit and exasperation, I puffed my cheeks. “Muuuuu. Keiiiii, it’s not funny…”

Kei shook her head, still snickering into her right hand all the while. What was so funny? Did I do something? “Pfffft, sorry. Still, Tomo, you don’t have to be nervous.” I was not expecting her to reach over and pat my head with that same right hand. I was definitely missing something. “The fact that you want to deliver something would make anyone happy. Especially Otoha.”

I blinked up at her, releasing the air in my cheeks to frown. “Kei?”

“Really, Tomo.” Kei was smiling again. “I’m sure Otoha would love that.”

That’s what I’ve been telling her all this time!

I can’t help but be nervous, Hisako, okay?!

My Nobody sighed just as the last question left my lips in the outside world. “…Positive?”

Kei’s black eyes widened, blinking in surprise at me.

“I-I mean,” I ended up fumbling with my skirt, looking down at my lap while trying to pull more chakra down to my legs to prevent any metaphorical blood loss. “I-I can be pretty loud, and I know the last time I panicked, Kuroha-san looked really uncomfortable. I know I’m not the best, and I can ramble a bit too much, so—”

BONK.

I tried not to wince, looking up while rubbing my head. Did she just—

I think she did. You needed that.

Heeeeey…

“Tomo.” Kei was smiling that same crooked smile all over again while pulling her left hand back. Was I really missing something, or was I deluding myself? “I’m doubly positive,” she reaffirmed with that same smile, and I tried not to wince once her hand started ruffling my hair. “Just be you, Tomo. Without being nervous, I mean. Just be you. Otoha wouldn’t have hugged you that hard in our first meeting if she did mind being with you.”

Oh.

See?

I made eye contact with both Kei and Hisako before nodding, smile on my face too. My heart had already swelled to twice its size from the warmth of the words alone. “Alright,” was my quiet answer. There was nothing else I could say, after all, in the face of all that. It was getting harder to refute Kei, or any of my other friends or loved ones now. “I got it.”

Kei grinned again, pulling me close by the head to stage-whisper into my ear. “So, about those hospital shifts…”

The picnic basket wasn’t all that heavy on my right arm. Heck, a part of me thought that the banana bread would be heavier considering its loaf size. But with it carefully covered up in the cloth Mama gave me in a bundle placed in the basket itself, the whole load was nestled in the crook of my arm without too much weight. It certainly wasn’t a feather, but I could carry it.

Today was a day where I was supposed to put on a performance at the hospital anyways. The war was still ongoing, after all. It was really the keyboard strapped to my back that attracted attention, but ignoring it wasn’t much.

Now… Hisako hummed around the obviously fake pipe she made for herself, huffing dramatically. Where is that ANBU enby of ours…?

I glanced around as soon as the hospital doors swung open for me. A few nurses nodded happily at me, and I smiled back in common courtesy. The front desk was coming up, so where…

“Welcome to Konoha General Hospital, is there anything—”

My heart swelled up to twice its size once those brown eyes looked up from past the computer at the front desk. The same round glasses, and somewhat messy and smooth brown hair.

I found them.

“To-To?” Kuroha-san ducked their head, smiling while flapping one of their hands. “Uh. Hi. Welcome to the hospital.”

Avoiding eye contact… Kei did say Otoha didn’t like direct eye contact. I took a breath and smiled. It was still Otoha. One of my best friends, Otoha. “Hi, Kuroha-san. I hope I’m not disturbing you?”

What sounded like a small dinosaur hum echoed in the air, and it took a few seconds for me to realize it came from Otoha. Awww. “N-Not at all. I’m just taking a shift at the hospital today. Snake — I mean — Orochimaru-sensei was out doing some errands today, so I was free.”

Of course. Still keeping up cover. Otoha was a ninja too, and considering their role as Orochimaru’s lab assistant, it made sense. Even if a part of me wanted to puke at the whole “sensei” moniker, because the douche didn’t deserve that name. It still felt different though, seeing Kuroha-san fumble around the desk for something compared to the many times they came to the cafe. Even if the cover of “loyal lab assistant” still had to be maintained, there was something about Otoha’s behavior now that just proved, no matter what, we were still reincarnation buddies in the end.

Why was I so nervous in the first place? This was so easy to do, visiting the hospital and making small talk with them. I shouldn’t have been nervous. Especially around them. They felt like Kei. Warm, welcoming, reliable.

“So, To-To?” Otoha peeked at me from behind the apparently large pile of paperwork at the front desk, dinosaur roar already coming out of their throat. “What did you come here for?”

“Music!” I didn’t even know where my cheery voice had come from, but it was here, so might as well use it. It was more relaxing than me yelling into the uncaring void from anxiety, after all. At least, I hoped so. There was still so many things about Otoha I didn’t know, and was still learning, but Kei was confident enough. So maybe, if I could… “And, well…”

You can do it, dear. You can do it.

Otoha inclined her head at me, questioning noise already coming up in their throat. “To-To?”

With nothing else to say, I raised my arm to deposit the picnic basket onto the front counter, pushing it forward in a way so that it didn’t accidentally knock the call bell off. “Banana bread? For you.”

Kuroha-san’s eyes widened significantly as their jaw clenched. Their gaze snapped between me and the basket for a few seconds before finally landing on me. It was the first gesture of eye contact this entire interaction, and it still lasted the same amount of time it took for the realization to set in. A few seconds and then Otoha looked away, flapping their hands in the air once more. A soft happy trill was leaving their throat before I heard the soft, “Me?”

Awwww, Hisako cooed for me.

“For you,” I finished, because now I was smiling and it was hard to even stop. “You mentioned during some of our meetings how past me — I mean, Vy, wanted to bake you something when we met in real life back then, like the cinnamon pizzelles or banana bread, and we’ve been friends for a long while now, so…” I took a step back while pushing the basket forward for Otoha to take, shouldering the strap holding the keyboard to my back. It wouldn’t do for its weight to bring me down. Not now. I was supposed to be used to this. “I wanted to come by and visit you? Just to do that.”

The big smile was hard to miss on Otoha’s face as they rocked back and forth in their desk chair, humming something I couldn’t fully make out. If anything, the humming reminded me of happy raptors, running around if not for Otoha still being seated. Their hands were left sitting between their legs to rest on the chair as the rocking continued, and— “Sweets, sweets, sweets…!”

Awwww. Hisako said again.

Awww. I couldn’t even help the thought myself because they were humming happily. Without a care in the world, truly relaxed, a warm happy feeling. That’s what it sounded like. It didn’t take long for me to hear another happy dinosaur trill, followed by another musing of, “Sweets, sweets, sweets!” Kuroha-san wasn’t even looking at me now, having closed their eyes while rocking, and despite some weird stares from visitors behind me, the smile on my face in return was genuine. Just as big, just as genuine.

The last time I saw Otoha like this was when they had met Miyako-bachan for the first time.

I wish they could be this happy forever…

The thought was shameless and rather unreasonable, but it still came up in my head anyways.

Still, my heart beat in my chest, reminding me that reality was still a thing, and I lightly tapped the counter to get Otoha’s attention. “K-Kuroha-san?” my voice, this time, thankfully came out soft and gentle.

It took a single second for them to blink and come back down from their happy trilling, and they turned to me with a small jump. “To-To?”

Even when happy, they still used that nickname. My smile widened. “Do you want to take a break? I brought some paper plates and napkins in the basket if you want to eat now.”

Kuroha-san swayed side to side again, a la their excited rocking from earlier, just a bit more subdued. “Yes yes,” they said, voice high-pitched with happiness. “Kei-Kei here too. Can join.”

…Wait. Hisako’s smile dropped for a surprised fish-face. Kei?

Kei? Outwardly, I said, as calmly as I could, “Kei’s here, Kuroha-san?”

Otoha simply pointed a finger upwards, and I looked up only to feel my jaw slacken.

A nearby civilian intern shrieked bloody murder before keeling over.

“Hey, Tomo, Otoha!” Kei waved from the nearby open air duct shaft, smiling wryly. Apparently crouching on the ceiling with chakra wasn’t even an issue? Or was I just focusing too much on bad posture again? “Was wondering when you’d notice me!” She glanced at the fallen intern before rubbing the back of her neck. “Uh. Whoops.”

Goddammit, Kei.

Another intern was already lifting their fallen comrade in a piggyback ride, shaking their head in Kei’s direction before skulking off, fallen person in tow.

“Obvious!” Kuroha-san interrupted, voice still high-pitched. They were still pointing. “Watching whole time!”

Hisako slammed a hand to her face, shaking her head in exasperation. GODDAMMIT, KEI.

My cheeks were already flooding with heat at the revelation and I was tempted to pout, because really, could I at least be trusted to go around the village alone at least once. But it wasn’t the time to complain. My heart and mind, despite their disparities, could agree. I took a breath to steady myself instead, putting my hands on my hips. “Could you come down from there? If you wanted a bit of banana bread yourself, you could’ve asked instead of sneaking around in the air ducts, Kei.”

“Lots here!” Otoha added with a happy noise at the end of the statement. I guess the happy juice was still around. At this rate, I could see the three of us doing a comedy routine. Pft.

You could try?

Yeah, and my humor wouldn’t be limited to puns and old world jokes.

I dunno, dear, you could…

Nah. Just, nah.

My Nobody shrugged. Whatever you say.

“Oh?” Kei was smirking now, and I tried not to jolt once she jumped down from the air shaft to face us both. “But I wouldn’t be able to get a rise out of my best civilian friend now, would I?”

“I’m your only civilian friend.”

She waved it off with a hand, still smirking. “Details, details. So?” Kei shouldered the kodachi on her back, rolling her free shoulder all the while. “Are we going to hang out over sweets or not?”

I glanced at Otoha. They gave me a loud and happy dinosaur trill in response, pushing their desk chair back quick enough to where it silently skidded against the hospital tile. “On break!”

A fond sigh was already leaving my lips. These doofs. “Well. I guess that’s a yes. And I’m far too simple. Let’s go to the cafeteria?”

Kei and Otoha were sharing a warm laugh, because in the time it took for me to say that, Otoha had already pushed any paperwork and the front desk to the side to come around for a hug. The smile back on my part didn’t even hurt my cheeks anymore.

These moments were why the nervousness, I guess, was worth it in the end.

I’d rather be the butt of the joke than make these people unhappy. And to see them laugh and smile without worrying about blood in the future, like this, right now — I would do anything for that.

“Oh, you two ninja, c’mon. We can laugh about my obliviousness over some food. I’ll cut the bread for you.”

“Yay!”

“Already looking forward to it.”

For now, in the times of war and Creepy Snake Guy reigning in the shadows, I’d take what peace I could get.

#silent feathers #hoshino tomoko #keisuke gekko #otoha kuroki #writing #long post #trying to improve #writing otoha i mean #early new years present?

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wellhellsbelles · 6 years

Text

i’ll be your violent overnight rush

another chapter to my riarkle new girl au! this is them first getting together for real, so sort of a backtrack from the last couple of chapters.

enjoy!

ao3 link found here.

So they’re not boyfriend and girlfriend. They’re just two friends who happen to live in the same apartment together, have made out once, are certainly attracted to each other, but never admitted to each other that they like one another. And maybe . . .

Maybe it’s supposed to stay like that.

Maybe it was a fluke that they kissed and Riley saw galaxies while Farkle’s hand rested on her waist, pulling her closer to him like there was nothing stopping them.

But part of her wishes—no, hopes—that it wasn’t a fluke, because she likes Farkle. She really does. He’s incredibly smart and makes her laugh and feel safe—and who cares if she’s wondered to herself what it’d look like if they had kids!

The point is, she kind of really, really likes Farkle, and he doesn’t seem to want to do anything about it.

It all sucks.

“Listen, the only thing I can make for you all is a margarita, so that’s what you’re all getting tonight,” Maya says, setting down several glasses in front of their table along with a margarita pitcher to share. She had only just begun bartending and was struggling very much so, but she did know how to make kickass margaritas, so Riley couldn’t complain.

“All I asked for was whiskey. Whiskey,” Zay complains. Maya gives him a pseudo-pout.

“Oh, I’m sowwy. Did wittle Zay not appweciate what his fwiend got him for fwee?” she says mockingly.

“Free, you say? Then I’m sold. Carry about your business,” he waves her on, grabbing the pitcher from the middle of the table as she leaves to pour himself a glass.

Riley was there with the guys for their Friday night drinks at Adam’s, a bar they had frequented for a very long time. She didn’t mind going out with them for drinks, especially since it was a Friday and she didn’t have to teach the next morning.

She did, however, mind that she was pressed against Farkle in the middle of the booth, Zay and Lucas their bookends keeping them in place. Riley was trying hard to ignore the electricity she felt every time he brushed up against her, was trying to ignore the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down that made her just want to run her tongue up the length of his neck.

A freaking arduous task, yes. She has it really bad, fuck yes.

On top of that, he just had to wear those black jeans with the denim button-up that looked amazing on him.

God, she should just bed him and get it over with! Maybe that would clear the air between them. Or not. Who’s to say.

“Alright, scooch, Zay. I’ve gotta talk to Maya,” Riley nudges Zay. He groans, sliding out of the booth and gesturing for her to get out. She does so, muttering, “Watch my purse!” before stalking off to find her best friend.

When she finds Maya, she’s struggling to mix a drink, and Riley can only watch as she fails miserably.

“Maya, are you sure you really want to bartend?” Riley asks, sitting at the barstool in front of Maya.

“Yes,” Maya grits her teeth, obviously frustrated with the drink. “Why are there a billion various types of drinks? Can’t people just order a beer and get it over with?”

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” Maya ceases wrestling with the drink to listen to Riley.

“Yeah, hon. Shoot.”

“So say there’s this . . . guy,” Riley begins, and Maya quickly cuts her off.

“It’s Farkle.”

“What?! Pfffft, nooooo,” Riley scoffs, and Maya raises a brow at her.

“Riley, I see the way you look at him. Also, no one starts off a normal conversation with, “So say there’s this . . . guy.” You already make it sound like an abnormal situation.”

“Damnit,” Riley curses. “That’s not the point. The point is, I think I really like him and we’ve already kissed once—”

“Whoa whoa whoa. Wait. Did you just tell me the two of you have kissed? And you didn’t think to let your best friend know of this fact like, the second it happened?!”

“Sorry! It was just a . . . weird . . . situation. Like we’ve been scooting around each other awkwardly all week in the apartment kind of weird. And you’ve been busy trying to figure out how to be a bartender.” Maya sighs.

“Fair. But next time you better tell me what happens!” Riley smiles at her, resting her chin in her hand.

“So, are you going to give me advice?”

“Advice on what?”

“Farkle!” Riley exclaims, frustrated with her best friend. Maya shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe just drink and see where the night goes. He’s been casting glances this way the whole time you’ve been here, anyway, so you’ll probably be doing stuff in the bathroom stall by the end of the night.”

“Maya.”

“Riley, trust me. He may not say it in his words, but he does say it in his actions. Besides, why are you rushing it? Why don’t you just let whatever happens happen and then just figure it out along the way? You’ve always been too desperate to push things forward in a relationship, so why not take it slow instead?” Riley groans inwardly to herself.

She’s right, damnit.

“Fine. But if this doesn’t go well I’m blaming you!” she shouts as she leaves the bar, heading back to the guys’ table. When she returns, she knocks her foot against the wood of the booth, indicating to Zay that he needs to get out.

“What did the two of you talk about?” Lucas asks as she slides back in next to Farkle, swallowing hard.

“Oh, Maya just wanted to talk to me about whether or not the bartending thing was a good idea,” Riley answers.

“No,” the guys all resound, and she shoots them a pointed look.

“She was asking me, not you guys. And she’d like to try this out, so you guys better shut your traps or else,” Riley threatens them. Zay whistles.

“You know, you’re a little hot when you act vicious.”

“Oh yeah? Do you guys think that?” she turns to Lucas and Farkle, grinning. Lucas nods his head while Farkle shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“Not gonna lie, he’s right,” Lucas agrees. Riley looks at Farkle.

“And what do you think, Farkle?” He’s making a point of not returning her gaze, and Riley loves it.

“You know, it’s like, it’s just a . . . you know. You know what it’s like,” he sputters, gesticulating wildly. Riley snorts and rolls her eyes, reaching across the table to pour herself a glass of margarita. As she takes a sip, she thanks Maya silently for making her margaritas so strong.

She’s gonna need it to get through this night.

After finishing their second pitcher of margaritas together, Zay demands they all go to the club nearby. Riley figures it’s probably because Vanessa texted him about it, but she can’t really complain too much. Her outfit is club appropriate (as Maya informed her after she ran up to her, frantic about the prospect of going to a club)—a red velvet top, black skater skirt, and black mule heels. Riley doesn’t intend on being there a very long time, though. Clubs aren’t her scene as far as she’s concerned, and she’s not going to sit around and pretend like they are.

She will admit, she does want to dance for a bit, though. And maybe if she can get a certain someone to dance with her, then perhaps it won’t be all for naught.

Unfortunately for her, as soon as the four of them are inside, the guys maneuver right out of her sight, and Riley feels like she wants to hit them upside their stupid heads. Instead, she distracts herself by going to the bar for a drink.

She orders a tequila sunrise, sipping on it as soon as its delivered to her and watching as people gyrate on the dancefloor. Riley’s none too keen on dirty dancing, the only kind she likes being the movie, but she likes the atmosphere. It makes her feel adult, like she’s finally getting to experience what people her age experiences every day.

Before she can order a second drink, she spots Farkle being a wallflower on the other side of the room, deciding that he’s: a.) being ridiculous, and b.) definitely going to dance with her. It’s probably the alcohol in her system making her brave, but she doesn’t give a damn. She strides up to him quickly, taking him by the hand before he has a chance to argue and leading him to the dance floor. Riley can feel him tense up the whole way over, but she chooses to ignore it for the sake of what she wants.

And for now, what she wants is to dance.

“Dance with me, Farkle!” she yells over the music, swaying her hips to the beat.

“Okay?” he shouts back, giving his best attempt at dancing but failing miserably. Riley laughs, enjoying just being there with him, but Farkle must think she’s laughing at him because he stops right away, his expression panicked as he turns to disappear. Riley elects to follow him, knowing fully that if this were any other time she probably would’ve been too nervous to do so.

Thankfully, she’s able to follow him as he ducks into the hall and inside a nearby closet, startling him as she walks in, closing the door behind them. She makes sure to lock it for privacy, shifting towards him after.

“Farkle, are you alright?” she asks.

“Dancing is not my thing,” he breathes. Riley offers him a sympathetic smile.

“That’s okay. I hope you know I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just happy to be with you,” she explains, hitching her breath after the last comment when she realizes what she’s said. Riley settles a second later when she notices it was the right thing to say, because Farkle’s grinning softly back at her, and suddenly it’s just the two of them and nothing else.

“Riley, we should probably talk about that other night,” he begins.

“Yeah, we probably should.”

She waits for him to say something, anything. She holds her breath as the silence washes over them, thinking to herself that this is it, this is the moment where he takes back the kiss and calls it a mistake. But then he opens his mouth, and . . .

And he doesn’t.

“I don’t take back that kiss. I know it made things weird, but I just . . . I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and you, and I just really like you a lot, Riley. More than I thought I could ever like a person,” he admits, inching closer to her. Riley’s legs begin pulling her towards him then, too, as if they were both magnets.

“Me too, Farkle. I like you a lot, too,” she whispers back, and those must be the magic words, because Farkle’s drawing her against his chest as he kisses her deeply, his fingers threading through her hair gently. Riley’s heart explodes within her, her brain a billion circuits fizzling all at once.

She’s embarrassingly excited by his touch, enough to reach out to push him up against the wall, but he reciprocates with equal excitement, hooking his hands underneath her knees and pulling her up. He shifts them around so that she’s the one pressed up against the wall, nipping at her jawline after. A small mewl escapes past Riley’s lips, and Farkle swallows hard in response.

Riley resolves to put this experience in her “top ten sexiest moments” memory bank.

They’re a mess of unresolved sexual tension in that closet. Riley’s been pretty vanilla her whole life, but her body is on fire and she’s been waiting for this moment for a long while, so she doesn’t really much care how far they go. All she wants is Farkle, Farkle, Farkle, and the inevitable meeting of his skin against hers.

Unfortunately for the two of them, their intimate exchange is cut short by a knocking on the door, followed by Farkle accidentally dropping her legs and knocking his forehead into hers.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters as the two of them jump apart, trying desperately to fix themselves up in a way that doesn’t appear incriminating (but totally will anyway.) Riley glances up at him wide-eyed and Farkle offers her a similar expression before unlocking the door and opening it.

“Alright, c’mon you two. Outta the closet,” the man, obviously a janitor of sorts, points behind him. Although Farkle and Riley are unbelievably embarrassed, the man couldn’t care less, as if this sort of thing had happened a bunch of times before (and probably has.) The two of them skitter out, not stopping until they’re tucked away in a corner close to the door, about as private as they’ll get in a club.

“Sorry,” Farkle says sheepishly, his face red as a beet. Riley smiles at him softly, tilting her head.

“Sorry for what? It was embarrassing, sure, but I don’t regret it.” Farkle beams at her after that, causing Riley’s heart to skip a beat as he reaches out with his hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“Wanna go back to the apartment? I think we’ve been out enough for the night,” he tells her. Riley nods, squeezing his hand.

“I’d love to.”

#riley x farkle #riarkle #riarkle fanfiction #gmw fanfiction #bella writes #new girl au

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hardtobcmysxlf · 3 years

Note

1-70

Okay first of all, how dare you...

Second of all, here you go finally anon, was hanging out with my friend last night so I wasn't on my phone much...

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

I feel like I have a somewhat decent relationship with my mom, it's definitely better than how it was when I was a teenager. As for my dad, he passed away when I was 8 and I miss him so much, but we had a great relationship.

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

The last person I said I love you to was my grandma last week.

03: Do you regret anything?

Hmm...I can't think of anything that I super regret 🤷‍♀️

04: Are you insecure?

Yuuuup I sure am!!

05: What is your relationship status?

Single af

06: How do you want to die?

Probably in my sleep or surrounded by my family and close friends if it were something killing me slowly...

07: What did you last eat?

A breakfast grilled cheese a couple hours ago when I got home from my friend's house

08: Played any sports?

I used to play soccer and softball when I was a kid, but haven't played anything since

09: Do you bite your nails?

I don't necessarily bite them, but I do pick at them and clip at them if like they're too long for me or there's a snaggy nail or ya know...anxiety...

10: When was your last physical fight?

I've never been in a physical fight sooo never...

11: Do you like someone?

Kinda?? There's a couple people I like on here and a girl and a guy I both kind of like at my work 😂 #gottalovebeingbiamIright?

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

I feel like I have but I can't remember when

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

I don't "hate" anyone, but I do have some strong dislike for a couple of people I've met last year...

14: Do you miss someone?

My friend who's house I left even though we hung out all day yesterday xD I miss my dad, my great-aunt and a couple of other friends

15: Have any pets?

Pfffft I have A LOT of pets, I have chickens, 3 goats, 2 turkeys, 5 dogs (4 of them are foster fails from my family doing animal rescue) 6 cats (all rescue) a few ducks and a bunny. I'm hoping I got them all and counted correctly lol.

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

Honestly? In pain because of cramps (yay being a girl) and a bit sad because I didn't want last night to end because it was so fun and nice being out of my house!

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

HA NOPE

18: Are you scared of spiders?

Sometimes yes, but like the daddy long leg ones...nah

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

Oh hel yeah! I'd go back to being a kid so my dad would be here <3

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

I....I've never snogged anyone 🙈

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

Well now I'm gonna just chill in my room until I gotta get ready for work this week

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

Yes and 1 or 2 at most

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

4 in each ear and 1 nose piercing

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

English and a tiiiiiiiiny bit of math

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

An old friend of mine, even though they just stopped being friends with me a month or so ago because I'm friends with someone else again...and these two actually used to be friends years ago

26: What are you craving right now?

Something with lots of chocolate syrup

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

Nope, I'm always the one getting my heart broken

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

Pfffft most likely yes

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

I don't think so, if I did then they never told me I did...

30: What’s irritating you right now?

Surprisingly nothing xD but I know something or someone will probably later!

31: Does somebody love you?

I know my family and my animals love me.

32: What is your favourite color?

Either black or blue

33: Do you have trust issues?

YES

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

Ya know, I don't even remember my last dream so I couldn't tell you

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

Umm...I think my sister because she showed me a fan-video on youtube and it hit me in the feels

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

Hahahaha depending on the person yes, sometimes even more than 2 chances!!!

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

It depends on the situation for me.

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

I sure fucking hope it is!!!!

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

Umm...first kiss with a guy? I think 20? I can't remember, first kiss with a girl? I was 21

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

Ew no

51: Favourite food?

French fries.

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

Yes and no

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

Set an alarm on my phone and stared at the old glow-in-the-dark stars and planets on my friend's ceiling until I fell asleep 😂

54: Is cheating ever okay?

55: Are you mean?

I can be if you piss me off or talk shit about me behind my back

56: How many people have you fist fought?

None!

57: Do you believe in true love?

I feel like it honestly depends if I vibe with the person.

58: Favourite weather?

Sunny but not hella hot, or maybe some clouds.

59: Do you like the snow?

I like it for the aesthetic, not the cold lol

60: Do you wanna get married?

I do yes

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

If its someone I know and am close to like a partner or a close friend, yes! If it's some random stranger, then noooooo

62: What makes you happy?

Cosplaying, video games, coffee, animals, actually having the same interests as someone or being able to be myself with someone without feeling judged or stupid.

63: Would you change your name? Nope! I like my name :)

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

YUP YUP YUP!!!

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Tell them I'm flattered but not interested (unless I like him too idk) but I don't have any male friends

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

Umm no, I don't really have any male friends...

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

Does my lyft driver count? XD he told me some very interesting facts about one of the mountains here on my ride home LOL!

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

One of my friends

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

I do yes

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

I'd die for my family, animals and a few friends

#anon #anonymous #there you go anon I got them done...happy? haha...

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wwewildestimagines-blog · 7 years

Text

Pete Dunne- Something Different- Part 1

Hey Guys! This will be the start of a Pete Dunne series. Hope you like it :D TAGS; @nixonsnewell @karleedaniels27 —————————————————————————————————-

“Er Tyler how about you stop checking out Liv and talk to mum for a second.” I rolled my eyes with a smile as Tyler watched Liv go in the ring. The Performance centre was an absolute god send to I and the lads of British Strong Style. I was ecstatic to have even made it to the WWE let alone with my best friends and twin brother.

“She’s beautiful isn’t she?” Tyler swooned as he played with the corners of his moustache.

“We’re doing fine mum, Tyler’s just a little occupied at the moment.” I pointed the camera at Tyler and then turned the camera to where Tyler’s gaze was. Our mum let a ‘oooooh’ slip from her mouth as she saw Liv.

“Awr has my baby boy got a crush?” mum cooed, making Tyler leave his trance on Liv, he scrunched up his face as our mum poked fun at him.

“She’s very pretty Tyler. Is she your girlfriend?”

“Pfffft he wishes” I chuckled, Tyler gently wrapped me and by surprise got me into a headlock. I laughed as we began to struggle in the headlock, both Tyler and our mum joined in laughing at our silliness.

“I’ll let you two get on with your training. Keep in touch and be safe. Love you”

“Bye mum!” Tyler and I called out, I tried to reach for the read button to hang up but being caught in the headlock made it difficult. Tyler released his grip and looked over at Liv who was looking back laughing playfully shaking her head at us. With a smirk I pushed Tyler as hard as I could as payback as he again got distracted by Liv.

“Eurgh I’m off to find someone who actually wants to talk to me.” I shook my head with a giggle then walked over to where Pete and Trent were lifting weights. Pete was assisting Trent, I eyed Pete admiring his muscular arms and then his facial features his eyes gleamed under the amount of sweat he’d worked up, what a beautiful human. Nope. Scrap that, I’d just got annoyed at how Tyler was gushing over someone and now I was doing the exact same thing. I stood opposite him leaning on the equipment. Pete looked up from Trent and sniggered over at me. Pete and I had this love hate banter, seeing as I was Bate’s younger sister by 14 minutes and knowing him for years he felt he could be a little softer around me and not keep up his on screen angry persona. Pete dragged his eyes across my body as my yoga pants and bra hugged the curves of my figure. Trent could sense Pete’s attention had be taken by something else, he set his weights upon the equipment and turned to see me. Wiping his forehead on his towel he opened his arms wide and pulled me into a smelly squeeze. I squirmed in Trent’s arms as my head got closer to his sweaty armpits.

“Did you like what you saw when I was lifting huh Aubrey?” Trent asked as I ducked out of his hug. I stuck my tongue out at him playfully.

“Oh yeah. A hairy, sweaty Trent Seven is definitely my cup of tea.” I winked at him as he wiggled his eyebrows at me. Pete stood there with his hands crossed over his chest, watching me.

“You wish Seven, I think you’re a bit too old for her mate. Leave it to the better looking one of us two” Pete chimed in, taking his stance in front of Trent. Trent pulled a puppy dog face and pouted out his bottom lip.

“That’s a bit harsh mate.” he replied.

“Awr” I responded back by copying his face. Pete changed the weights on the bar to suit my lifting limit. He motioned for me to join in their gym session with them. I took my stance and began doing squats as I lifted. Pete and Trent stood behind me, I was so eager to see their faces or to know what they were thinking. Trent leaned into Pete’s ear to whisper.

Pete’s POV-

“You know when Bate’s find out you want her he’s going flip”

I shrugged my shoulders and smirked as I observed Aubrey doing her squats.

“Brave man going for your best mates sister” Trent added patting me on the back.

“It’s different this time. She’s different. Just a bit of an inconvenience she’s Bate’s sister”

What made Aubrey different? There was no drama with her, she’s easy going, adventurous. There’s no messing about. I helped her place the bar back after she’d completed her squats.

“What you lads chatting about?”

I chucked her bottle of water to her before Trent spoke up.

“Nothing important, besides I’m sure all will be revealed soon. Right Dunne?” Trent slung his arm over my shoulder and glanced over at me with his big grin. I shrugged my shoulders, that was my thing.

Aubrey’s POV-

“Ay up ducks! What do you think of Liv? Tyler’s slavering all over her” I said in between taking sips of water. I motioned with my head towards where Tyler stood with Liv drooling over him. I guess you could say I’m an overprotective sister but I just want the best for him.

“She’s not bad, she makes Tyler happy I guess which is the main thing.” Pete replied to me, his attention quickly turned back to me and again did his signature shoulder shrug.

“Tyler is smart and big enough to handle his own problems. You don’t need to worry about him. It should clearly be the opposite” Trent spoke up. I squinted my eyes furrowing my eyebrows. Pete’s head jerked to look at Trent with a snarl, which I found quite weird as they were always joking about with each other.

“Erm I’m an independent women. I can take care of myself thank you Seven.” I said with sass and flipped my ponytail. Trent tried to imitate my movements in a jokey manner.

“You wouldn’t know what to do if you didn’t have us Aubrey” Pete added pointing at me.

“You Dunne, is the only one who keeps sane around here” I replied leaning into his side and giving him a hug, his arm snaked around my waist and settled on my hip and boy was I enjoying every bit of this hug.

“Oh I see how it is. You’ll take a hug from the sweaty bruiserweight but not from me?” Seven gasped. I laughed a little as I stepped away from Pete and gave Trent a massive hug which put a smile on his face.

“All better now?” I looked up at Trent still hugging him, he closed his eyes and nodded.

“Better!”

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