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luvbrie · 2 years

Text

treasure reaction to idolcrush!reader getting eliminated on a survival show

pairing: [seperate] ot12 x reader / ot12 x idolcrush!gn!reader

HYUNG LINE || MAKNAE(ish) LINE coming soon !!

warnings: been in my ygtb feels lately… u get eliminated in a 1:1 match, also positions of the reader (rapper, dancer etc) are based off the member (e.g. haruto = rapper!reader), also this has been in my drafts for 2+ weeks so i wanted to post it even tho it's unfinished IM SORRY

wordcount: 1.3k words / bulletpoint reaction

hyunsuk

song — regular by nct 127

he fell in love with your performance omg

your talent: UNPARALLELED

you had so much potential!! he was excited to see you grow as a rapper omg

literally gets so soft when you get all smiley from getting a compliment from the main producer

but then…..YOU LOST???

this dude was SHOCKED

but at the same time he wasn’t

like honestly he’d know that popular idols will get eliminated because it brings in the moneyyy

but still!

he didn’t actually expect you to get eliminated so early on?

hoped SO BAD that there would be a second chance for you

like he’s just in denial for so long

he just. he refuses to believe that that just happened

he got super sad when you were saying your goodbye speech :(

he wished the speech was longer AND IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN bc it was like 4 seconds long and you deserved way more

it’s not even hyunsuk’s opinion it was a FACT

expect backlash from twitter user @i_am_not_hyunsuk99

jihoon

song — epiphany by bts

you both knew each other while you were training

he was bored and decided to spend his free time with the new trainees

jihoon actually found out abt the survival show thru you,,so it’s pretty much a given he’s already attached to you from the second you show up on screen

then you preformed and oh boy

he could cry at your vocals

he probably has already but i won’t talk about it to save his pride.

jihoon was SO proud of you :(

he was reaching for his phone to compliment you on your “win” and,, jihoon being jihoon, clown you over the small shake in your voice towards the beginning

he just freezes seeing the pure look of joy in your eyes

park jihoon IS MELTING. OVER YOU!!

he’s so whipped god help him

he was so ready to hear your name shouted through the mic as you moved on to the final line up to debut

he’s so cocky about it like he’ll lean back in his chair absolutely CONFIDENT you will win.

but then you don’t.

and he has to pause the video to physically go ‘???????’

he has to prepare himself cause he knows you’re gonna cry and just the thought alone breaks his heart

like hyunsuk, he gets upset when you do your goodbye speech, but it’s not the end.

because this man is a doer

a very, extremely impulsive doer

you don’t even have to wait a day to have your ‘ex’-manager show up at your door, telling you you’ll debut as a soloist, with jihoon standing beside them with a stupid smug grin on his face

yoshinori

song — spring day by bts

his heart is breaking even before you get eliminated, or before your performance starts

because the song you chose was actually in tribute to your best friend that was eliminated in an earlier episode

you two constantly were talking about debuting together, but of course, that couldn’t happen

after they got eliminated, you promised them you would debut, and that they just have to wait a little bit longer

you were paired against one of your other friends for the 1:1 battle too and yoshi knew this episode was going to kill him.

he tries his hardest not to sob his eyes out

instead he sobs his heart out

he thought your performance was perfect, and despite being a rapper, you sang part of the harmonies and he just closes his eyes and appreciates you cause HELLO!! YOU SOUNDED SO ANGELIC

after it was announced that you lost, he Didn’t know what to do with his life

like everything he’s ever known

a LIE.

no but seriously he’s so UPSET???

you thought he sobbed his heart out before well apparently he’s got two hearts cause he DID IT AGAIN

your ending speech was just ‘i broke my promise.’ and he wanted to just run through the screen and hug you

he’s not Ok

j-line has to step in and help out because yoshi just Stopped working and could only speak japanese

def will get teased about it later but he stands by it. he will argue with the wall if there’s a piece of paper taped on it that says ‘y/n didn’t deserve the attention they got’ bc NOPE HE’S NOT HAVING IT.

junkyu

song — grow up by stray kids

he’s dead

by the chorus, he’s literally all over you

literally doing puppy eyes at you as your sweet voice fills his ears

the song just hits too close to home and he’s constantly sighing in adoration

he is falling in love with how you chose the song because you wanted to let others know that success doesn’t come fast and it’s okay if it takes a while

the song isn’t even by you but the raw emotion in your voice makes it feel so real

throughout the song he’s just like ‘:o wahh… WAHH…’ but quietly cause he’s just so amazed…

please he’s so cute

by the time you’ve finished, he’s forgotten it was actually like 3 am and very loudly goes ‘WOOOWW!!!’

jihoon tells him to SHUT UP and sleep but he doesn’t because it’s ‘loving y/n hours’ (junkyu’s words not his)

but no amount of sweet fawning could prepare him for the next couple seconds of this episode

jaw dropped.

you… lost….

he sits like that for so long just looking around, looking anywhere but the monitor

it takes him a bit to build his courage to start the video again

dude this boy gets out a tissue and ‘wipes’ your tears as footage of you crying appears on his screen

he’s doing some sobbing himself

kyu buys you your favorite snacks and sends them to your dorm to attempt to cheer you up cause he’s too scared to see you in person

fears he will just end up Sobbing right in front of your face and he’d very much like to keep his dignity

but little did he know that jihoon caught a video of kyu wiping your tears through his computer monitor LMFAOO

jaehyuk

song — one in a million by twice

the way you’re singing makes him feel so nice

literally your choice of song has him at a chokehold

but like a very soft chokehold like he’s just forever chained to this song now

he’s so smiley throughout your performance omg

would be the king of praise but his vocab only consists of ‘aigoo’ and ‘cute’

actually tho jaehyuk is amazed by your performance

he is so proud of you pt 2

even if the only words he can get out are ‘they’re so cute!’ he feels so much more

he thinks you’re amazing as a person and your smooth voice just tops it all off

honestly could go on and on about you if given the chance

would scramble to add your cover to his playlist as soon as he can PLEASE

he screen records your performance

but he immediately stops it after hearing you lost

no, he’s not embarrassed or anything

he’s just ??? baffled ??? like there’s no way that you LOST

THERE’S NO WAY YOU LOST AFTER A PERFORMANCE LIKE THAT

furiously opens twitter and is pleased to see that the majority of people agree

although he wants to pull a jihoon and march right up to the producer to give you the chance you deserve, he doesn’t really know how to go about it

so he’s just sulking for the next week

or maybe two

he’ll start sulking anytime someone mentions it actually.

he’s so sad about it since he knows you worked really hard to get that far but he’ll send you nice messages on twitter

forgot to switch accounts tho so all the boys saw jaehyuk’s very heartfelt message to you and your elimination

TREASURE WILL NEVER LET HIM LIVE IT DOWN.

instant regret but at least you acknowledged him :,)

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steebersss · 4 years

Note

listen you say boba fett thigh riding im gonna go fucking feral!!! foaming at the mouth!! i'm on some grr grr bark bark type shit!!! if you wrote a drabble i would DIE (no pressure tho do what u want😅 you're awesome 💛)

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Boba Fett/Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: SMUT, thigh riding, choking, breath-play, dubcon (it’s really all consensual and wanted but you are a bounty so), use of nongendered body parts/language, no use of Y/N

A/N: I’m crying at “grr grr bark bark type shit” tfjskdf, also sorry this is 1291923 years late

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He was just sitting there.

That’s all he was fucking doing- sitting slack-legged, thighs spread, in the pilot’s seat, currently occupied with a glitchy hologram. And here he was, minding his goddamned business, unaware – or uncaring- why his bounty was suddenly silent, while you watched the way his sinewy muscles jumped with every movement, the way his tactical pants stretched so deliciously over his thigh as he slapped the malfunctioning console.

The ship rumbled around you with the quiet din of hyperspace, stream of passing starlight lighting the cockpit in a cool, blue hue, but that did nothing to hide the way your face flushed red, creeping up your ears and down your neck.

You watched him struggle, for a moment, eager to hear his snuffed grunts of frustration, but your eyes fell back to his fucking lap, and gods, you wished you could perch yourself up on it, just feel the solid meat of his thigh pressed right up against your-

“Can I help you?”

You blustered, caught peeping and he knew. Fett was turned away from you, still, as his fists stayed buried in the jungle of wires under the main communications console- but you knew he had some insane sense of awareness that ratted out your perverse staring. Your voice caught high in your throat when his hands brushed dangerously close to an exposed wire, one you knew would hurt, if not straight up kill him- an excellent bounty hunter, he was, but an engineer he was not. And despite the fact you knew his death would mean you lived, you still needed someone to pilot your ass down to a safe planet.

“No,” You whispered, jumping in your seat as a spark flew angrily from the mangled console, and you rose, finally, unable to withstand watching just how boorishly he tore at the poor thing. “But I can help you with-“

The world spun and you felt the air quite forcibly leave your lungs, back colliding heavily with the floor beneath you, thoughts rattling in your skull uselessly as you desperately tried to understand what just happened. It wasn’t until you felt the hand around your throat, a solid thigh between yours, immobilizing you that your lame brain finally caught up.

Oh, that’s right. It probably wasn’t the best idea to just jump up behind an experienced bounty hunter- of whom you were the bounty. You gasped for air, smaller, bound hands clawing at his gloved ones, cursing your love of mechanics and your soft heart.

“Don’t move.” He snarled, and oh, you squeezed your thighs around his involuntarily, core clenching at the sound of his breathless voice, adorned beautifully with his thick accent and an undercurrent of frustration. Your head swam with the lack of oxygen, your sex greedily rerouting what little blood-flow you had left to fuel your inappropriate arousal.

His grip softened, somewhat, when he felt you squirm, when he heard your gasps. Slowly, predatorily, his helmet tipped down, the dark cross of his visor landing square to observe the way you pressed yourself against his thigh, hips twitching, and whether it was from the lack of air or pleasure, he didn’t care.

“You can help me?” Fett jammed his thigh closer to you, helmet trained on the curve of your crotch meeting the meat of his leg, and you choked, face flushing with embarrassment and need. “I doubt it.”

At your pathetic inhale, the bounty hunter chuckled darkly, and fuck, the sound should send fear to your hopeless brain, but instead your body betrayed you, blush creeping down your neck to settle sweetly across your collarbones. Your tunic, as if in the conspiracy against you, laid just a touch open, baring a blushing shoulder to the man above you. His grip loosened, just enough to free your constricted airway, and you gulped down great gasps of air, vision blurred.

The rush of oxygen, adrenaline, and pleasure pushed a breathy, low moan from your lips.

“I asked you a question, quarry.” He growled, low, dangerous, and you nodded, inhaling sharply when he shifted his thigh, grinding against you. It felt as delicious as it had looked earlier, the pressure blossoming to liquid pleasure, heat racing through your core with every insistent nudge and you couldn’t help but moan earnestly, now, planting your feet onto the floor for leverage. Fett growled at that, animalistic and vulgar, free hand pawing at your tunic to reveal the soft curves of your chest.

“F-fuck-“ You whimpered, hips bucking on their own against his thigh, your underwear a right mess with the evidence of your building arousal. “Please-“

His thumb brushed against your nipple, coarse and gritty from the worn gloves, though fuck if you cared, fuck if it didn’t feel amazing. Electric pleasure ran up your spine, goosebumps chasing after it on your skin and you keened, hips rolling- seeking more. It didn’t matter anymore that he captured you, that you were being shipped off to certain doom, all you cared about was tending to your mounting orgasm, shaking thighs clamping tight around the bounty hunter’s.

“What makes you think you can ask for anything?” He spat, though the bite to his tone was gone, replaced with the airy breathlessness you’ve heard before and knew as arousal. You whimpered again, a quiet, heartbreaking sound and you felt him still, felt the thumb on your nipple still, and watched as he took a ragged breath in, hand around your neck shifting up.

You, with the last shred of your self-preservation positively disintegrated, pushed your hips up, your own thigh brushing his codpiece, eyes locked onto his visor as you gasped, “Because I know you want it, too.”

The choking pressure was back, harder than before, and your eyes rolled back into your skull, moans shamelessly spilling from you like the wet from your core. Fuck, you were so, so, so close, burning bright just from grinding yourself against his thigh with his hand pinning you down by your throat, squeezing the air and orgasm out of you. His hands rooted under your tunic, gripping your chest, your sides, grasping every soft part of you like he’d never felt before. That did it- the heady pawing so desperate like you- and you keened, high and stuttering as you came, fingers clenching helplessly around the exposed skin of his wrist, legs tense and taut unlike the absolute release you were feeling.

Your mind was pleasantly blank, thighs trembling and splayed wide, the seam of your pants where your legs met hips dark and damp with the proof of your orgasm. Dimly, you felt his hand slack around your- undoubtedly bruised- neck and heard his ragged breath from under the helmet, before he stood, adjusting his gauntlets.

Fuck it, you thought, remaining boneless on the floor, watching him return to the broken console like he didn’t just make you cum half of your brain out your ears. A sharp jolt and a stifled grunt from him pulled a quiet laugh out of you. He turned to face you, soundless, though you could feel his glare, his bristly pout.

“You know, I was a radar tech. But I guess you don’t need my help.”

He sighed.

#Anonymous #boba fett/reader #boba fett #boba fett x reader #star wars #rating: nc17 #my writing #drabble requests

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yellowmagicalgirl · 4 years

Text

Fic Writer Tag Game

tagged by @im-the-king-of-the-ocean

...it feels like I just did something very similar to this very recently but I’ll do it again I guess. This time I’m gonna include Fanfiction.Net, though, just so I can give different answers. That being said, I’m only going to link to the AO3 version of the fic

Fandoms:

These days, it’s almost all Tales of Arcadia, but my AO3 also has some Miraculous Ladybug, SPOP, and RWBY as well as a crossover with The Hunger Games. In addition to the above, my FFN also has some PMMM, Tai Chi Chasers, Sailor Moon, iZombie, Harry Potter and Voltron Legendary Defender in there.

Number of Fics: 98 on FFN, but only 60 of them ever got transferred to AO3.

Fic I Spent the Most Time on: I know I said I was torn between two fics last time, but honestly? I spent hours looking up the effects of PTSD, solitary confinement, and various forms of torture for the Juliet Dies; Life Continues fics. There’s a reason why when I finally publish Juliet Survives in This I’m gonna contain two disclaimers: one for the Dead Dove Do Not Eat and another for the fact that I’m using magic and the fact that Claire’s not entirely human anymore just so I can find a way to make it so that Claire has a good reason for not being any worse off. The other fic I was writing I only did some research before going, “nah I’m bastardizing Arthurian legend”

Fic I Spent the Least Time on: *looks at old writing and cringes* Raked over Crimson Waves, probably...

Longest Fic: Every Ghost in Me is the longest fic I’ve ever written at a proud 10,188 words... and somehow it’s a oneshot.

Shortest Fic: For actual fics, it’s A Shop Infested on AO3 and Arme Harry on FFN. Though, A Shop Infested is also the shortest English actual fic on FFN for me as well (yes, I have one (1) fic written in German.) However, this doesn’t count my poetry. On AO3 it’s Isn't It Ironic? On FFN it’s In My Arms.

Most Hits: On AO3, it’s I Bet You Kiss Your Knuckles (Right Before They Touch My Cheek) with its 1741 hits. On FFN, it’s Dare, which has 15,174 hits. Though, for comparison, Dare was written in 2015; I Bet You Kiss Your Knuckles (Right Before They Touch My Cheek) only has 348 hits on FFN.

Most Kudos: I Bet You Kiss Your Knuckles (Right Before They Touch My Cheek)

Most Comments: On AO3 my collab with Tuna, Birds, Bees, and Blood Magic, has the most comments, but Juliet Dies in This has the most threads. On FFN, it’s still Dare.

Most Bookmarks: Birds, Bees, and Blood Magic holds this title on AO3. The closest similar thing we have on FFN is favorites, so that title goes to Picked the Wrong Girl.

Total Word Count: On AO3, my net word count is 82,299. On FFN, I had to break out excel, and my net word count would be approximately 136,615 words. Approximately because I can’t separate the fic from the author’s note.

Favorite Fic I Wrote: You can’t make me choose... but it’s probably one of those jlaire hurt/comfort fics I’ve written. Or for that matter, the LadyNoir hurt/comfort fics I used to write when it comes to FFN even though I decided not to move them off of AO3... wait a second. I have a type. Oh no I have a type when writing and shipping and that type is the person who’s associated with light and goodness comforts the person who’s associated with darkness. I mean I’ve written outside of this type many a time but let’s face it so many of my shippy hurt comfort fics more or less boil down to this description.... how did I not realize this before.

Fic you Want to Rewrite or Expand on: I will never actually finish it but every so often I still want to go and give With the Distance Amplified a proper ending. Other than that, I kind of want to go and expand upon I Bet You Kiss Your Knuckles (Right Before They Touch My Cheek) despite the fact that I don’t want to have to watch ML canon to do so properly... oh, and also? I really need to finish the 3Below interlude to Juliet Dies; Life Continues.

Share a bit of a WIP or Story Idea you’re Planning on: so earlier today I posted a Krexie ficlet... I need to do some more editing so that the fic makes me nearly cry as much as the ficlet did and write all the other scenes because the fic is much more than just the kiss but here is the kiss from Krel’s POV:

There is a very full bowl of cat food, and multiple bowls of water. Krel follows Archie, and he finds Douxie, sitting on the floor, curled in a blanket, back to the door. Archie meows and runs away. Douxie doesn’t look up, and so Krel walks around him. Douxie’s head is bowed, and he is typing frantically at his phone, and then erasing what he wrote. There are tear tracks on his face, though they are hard to see, when most of the tears probably crawled into the cracks. Krel kneels in front of him, trying to see what Douxie is typing. The movement catches Douxie’s attention, and he startles. The blanket falls away from Douxie as he scrambles to his feet.

Normally, his reflexes are better. Not so clumsy. Not almost falling over his own long, cracked limbs. Krel reaches out to help Douxie stabilize himself, but Douxie uses a wall instead.

Douxie rips his earbuds from his ears, and for a second Krel can hear a woman singing from the earbuds before Douxie silences the music he was listening to. Douxie takes a breath. It is wet and shaking.

“Krel, why are you here?” Douxie wraps his arms around himself, and Krel isn’t sure if Douxie is cold from wearing a sleeveless shirt or just uncomfortable.

“I saw your text; I worried.”

“I’m sorry.”

Krel takes a large step towards Douxie; Douxie takes a small step back.

“Douxie, you, we’re gonna break the curse, you’re going to –“

“I’m going to die today,” Douxie whispers, looking at his own feet. Krel looks past the soft shorts Douxie is wearing to Douxie’s ankles. They have been taken over by cracks, and they’re advancing.

They are out of time. Douxie is out of time. Krel feels his lower lip start to tremble, and he tries to make it stop.

“You, you should probably go,” Douxie says like he doesn’t mean it. “I don’t… I’m not going to make you watch me die.”

“I’m not going to make you…” Krel can’t bring himself to say the word “die”, like saying it aloud will make it true. And that’s silly, that’s superstition, that’s not scientific, but every scientific way Krel has tried to save Douxie hasn’t worked. “I’m not leaving you alone; I don’t think you want to be alone right now.”

“Then can you-“ Douxie breaks off into a coughing fit. “Can you hold me? If that’s okay?”

Embrace your mistakes, like Mother would have said if she were not dead.

Krel takes another step towards Douxie, and Douxie does not step away, rather, he leans into Krel, unwrapping his arms from his own torso. They take one, two, three steps backward, to where the blanket lays abandoned on the floor. They sink to the ground, arms around each other. Krel cannot save Douxie, but he can make sure that Douxie is comfortable. Douxie clings to Krel with a surprising amount of strength. Krel ignores the urge to wrap his fingers around Douxie’s neck, just so he can keep track of Douxie’s pulse. Krel cards his fingers through Douxie’s hair instead. His other arm wraps around Douxie’s torso and his hand rests on Douxie’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Krel says, hating how his voice sounds when he’s about to cry.

“It’s not your fault, all of you did your best,” Douxie says, voice choked and so very scared. Krel feels his shirt starting to grow damp. “I don’t want to die; I wish we had more time.”

“Me too,” Krel says. A tear slips down his cheek, and he tightens his grip around Douxie’s torso, like he can keep Douxie from slipping away.

Douxie jerks, and Krel fears Douxie might be convulsing, but he’s just pushing himself up so he can look Krel in the eye. “Krel, I…” Douxie coughs, turning away, and when he turns back his glowing eyes are so much dimmer. “I love you.”

Douxie goes slack in Krel’s arms, closing his eyes. Krel presses his lips against Douxie’s and hopes.

A couple tears escape Krel’s eyes as he tries not to think of how he still doesn’t know for sure if he loves Douxie the way the curse wants him too, if he’s too late and he should have kissed or at least told Douxie sooner instead of waiting.

Krel closes his eyes. Douxie’s lips are chapped or cracked or maybe both, but they are still. Passive. Krel exhales through his nose; Douxie’s lips feel dead.

Krel is about to pull away, but then Douxie starts kissing him back. And it isn’t much, just a firm press that wasn’t there before, but it is enough to convince Krel that maybe it isn’t too late.

Tagging (for the record your participation is optional): @clairekatswritingcorner, @fieryartemispublications, @mambo-no-5, @dork-empress, @brothebro, and @akozuheiwa

#my writing #krexie

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kpopseregi · 4 years

Text

flowergirl. Chapter 2

(credit gif to owners)

link to chap 1 -- ( flowergirl. Chap.1 )

* flowergirl. Chap. 2

Genre : Soulmate AU

Pairing : Yunho X Reader / Woosan / Seongjoong

Warning : none except light curse words.

Recommended playlist : Talk To Me- Red Velvet

Words : 1.7k+

The morning came. Yunho has never been so energized like that in his whole life. Even if it just for a moment, it’s already been a colorful life for Yunho’s. Just imagine if they were together. Ah, what a heaven. *RINGSS RINGSS* (sorry im bad at imitating those alarm clocks TT) Shit, he was running late, Hongjoong gonna spank his sorry ass. (He likes it tho :p) He wear his usual boyfriend’s look, to impress his soulmate, Nana. Speaking of her, he curious about that Wooyoung guy. Was he her’s boyfriend? Please no. He waited for her long enough. Damn it! Another daydreaming. He gasped after looking at his watch and races to the door.

He arrived at Hongjoong’s place in 10 minutes with hope that he is not going to get killed by that tiny boss. Just his luck, Hongjoong was also running late. “Ayy lover boy, come here, I need you to arrange what Hongjoong has extracted 2 months ago.” Mingi smirked. Yunho was flustered. “What lover? You’re wish.” Too late, San has already informed everybody. As expected, Reporter Choi San doing his duty. Well,this is a big news as Yunho never has a girlfriend despite all his friend has one before encountered their respectful soulmate. ‘Saying about being loyal.’ Mingi shrugged. Heck! Even clumsy Mingi had ten and more before he met Aisha. Ehem.... for some experience. Damn, that tall girl already dominated Mingi’s little princess heart with her boyish charm. Blessed with great figure and athletic abilities, Mingi was so damn grateful. Suddenly...

*BANG* As they were about to do some work, Hongjoong slammed the door. Poor those big babies almost has mini heart attack. ‘Well,his expressions doesn’t seem that great’ Mingi and Yunho exchanged looks and thinking the same thing. (plot twist:real soulmate -.-). “Do I looks like someone who would cheat to you?!” That tiny man ask both of them. They just shakes their head. “Right!? How the hell he get that idea that I would cheat with my customers? How the hell did he even become my soulmate? Aren’t soulmate SUPPOSED to trust and understand each other? Why the hell this world has this soulmate thingy? I should just live in somebody’s pocket,” Hongjoong rolled his eyes. Then he slammed his workroom door. Poor doors.

“I didn’t even know Hongjoong have soulmate?” Yunho asked Mingi. “Well, how the hell you would know? They broke up just before you came on your first day. That’s why Hongjoong was a bit mean when he interviewed you. But don’t worry, deep down, he is a kind man. Damn, I cringed at that.” Mingi and Yunho laughed. “But... aren’t you supposed to stay with your soulmate through thick and thin?” Mingi just sighed. “It’s the couple decision to break up or to stay. But in returns, your heart is the one suffering. So it’s better to treat your soulmate well.” Yunho smiled. “Nice words, clumsy Mingi.” Mingi grinned.

The bell rings to indicate new customer has come in. Yunho was about to greet the customer but the customer has backhugged him. He blinked. “Umm... who are you?” Yunho’s heart started to race, this time it’s not that ‘crush-looking-at-you’ kind but ‘shit-is-that-a-burglar?’ kind. “It’s me bro!” San yelled excitedly. Yunho sighed. “Bro you scared me!” Yunho whined. San actually was on his morning break to grab some coffee after his morning weather forecast news but decided to hang out at Hongjoong”s shop instead. “How’s my big babie Mingi doing?” Mingi popped his head from the store room. “Doing well Sannie! Aisha surprised me with a private event last night for our 2nd anniversary.” Mingi excitedly share his story with a dreamy face. San nods. “And you Yunho?” Yunho sighs. “Hopefully I can meet her today tho.” He pouts. “Where is that exactly?” Yunho just shrugged his shoulders. “I met her at the alleyway that goes straight to P.S flower shop.” San squints his eyes. “Is that what I think I heard? She has connection with Park Seonghwa then?” San mumbled. “What?” Yunho asks in curiosity. “Nothing! Oh, look at the time! Chief Kim gonna search for me, take care guys!” San headed toward the door. Yunho and Mingi just waves to his back.

“Yah Nana, look at meeeee!” Wooyoung stomped his foot. “Shut the f up Wooyoung. You know I can’t even look at myself.” Wooyoung suddenly looked guilty. Yeosang nudged him. “Why the hell you said that?” “Sorry! I’m not used to it!” Wooyoung whisper-yelled at Yeosang. “You know she was sensitive about it right? Even she’s pretending like it was nothing.” Wooyoung just sadly stares at her. Yes, even if she was not perfect, Wooyoung still likes her. “Wooyoung, I know you’re staring at me.” Wooyoung just looked away. “When did I do that? You’re mistaken, sis.” Nana rolled her eyes. “BRO, YOU LITERALLY DID THAT WHEN YOU FEEL SAD OR GUILTY ABOUT SOMETHING, I KNOW YOU LIKE THE BACK OF MY HANDS.”

Wooyoung was startled. “How did you know that?” Wooyoung asked. “Let’s say I use my other sense better after I lost my eyes. Call that intuition. And bro, we literally grew up together.” Suddenly, Yeosang starts to speak, “If you didn’t butt in someone’s business, you probably can still see us you know.” Wooyoung kicked Yeosang’s legs. “Yeosang-ah, don’t be mean!” “What, I speak the facts only.” Yeosang shrugs. Nana bit her lips. “If you didn’t like befriend with someone who likes to butt in someone’s shit, then don’t.” She left the table. “Sorry Yeo, but you’re being a dick. Wait Nana!” Wooyoung chases after Nana. “I don’t like to befriend with a stupid whose slow with his love life either.” Yeosang sips his tea.

Nana arrived at the rooftop of her school. Wooyoung quietly closes the door. “Am I being stupid Wooyoung?” Wooyoung shakes his head, ah, he forgot Nana can’t see him. “Nope, no at all, Nana.” “I didn’t even asked to be blind! I never thought it would backfires on me! If only... “ Nana sobbed. Wooyoung hugged her. “No, Park Nana. You did the right thing. You do know that God help someone who helps other people right?” Nana nodded. “Good, and you know Yeosang didn’t mean what he said right? He just worried like me and Seonghwa after the news. He is the one who panicked the most you know? Saying things such as ‘Wooyoung if something happens to my baby while you’re slow driving right now,you’re dead.’ He cares about you like a lot.” Wooyoung shuddered.

“Okay, I should probably search for him.” Nana seems a bit touched and pulled back. Wooyoung saw the snorts attached to his uniform but didn’t say anything. “Sorry for that Wooyoung, to watching me crying my ugly ass” Wooyoung shakes his head. “As long as my princess happy.” Nana smiled. The nickname he used on her still used till today. Strangely, they’ve never fight. Just annoying here and there, mainly Wooyoung started it tho. This special bond they’ve shared till this day never failed to amazed them.

They went back into the class. Other students badmouthing Nana right in front of her as they were jealous with how beautiful and smart Nana is before that accident happens. The badmouthing now has worsen since Nana became blind, saying she’s an attention seeker. And Nana just start loosing her confidence. Before, she would retort to those rumors strongly but now she’s scared they will be worsen and she can’t protect herself if Wooyoung and Yeosang were not around. But when Wooyoung came, they changed their attitude. Yeosang can’t stand this kind of behavior. “Hey you bitch one and bitch two. Stand up.” The girls who were badmouthing Nana stands up instantly. If Nana was a gun, Yeosang was a bazooka. That kid never losing a verbal fight even once in his life. Straight up burn everyone with his words alone.

“Wooyoung and me didn’t fail our last year final exam on purpose and retake this year just to hear you bullying Nana. Your face doesn’t get approved even if you just wished to be our girlfriends. Even a tons of make up and plastic surgeries will not cover your ugliness because that comes from your heart. Yet you call an ulzzang and natural face like her an ugly woman? Apologize.” The girls were speechless and stuttered but before Yeosang could raise his voice, Nana grabbed his arm. “That’s enough, let’s go Yeosangie.” Yeosang just let her drag him away to their seat. Just in time, the teacher came in and the class starts. “I’m sorry for earlier Yeosangie.” Yeosang just smiled and patted her head.

After the school ends, Nana went straight up to Seonghwa’s flower shop. She called for her brother, well, no one is answering. But, after a while, her heart started to beat fast. ‘Shit,not this again.’ She quickly went to hide behind the counter. The door’s bell were ringing and someone sounds breathless as if they just ran. ‘Fuck, I’m not ready to meet him yet!’ “You’re here right? And you can feel it too. Please, I’ve been waiting to get to know you..” Nana’s heart just a bit melted by his sweet voice. “Sorry, but I’m not ready to meet you yet. If you were willing, can we just exchanges name for today? We can take it slow.” As long as that is what his soulmate wants, Yunho obligated. Even if he’s already know what was her name. (Doesn’t want to sound like a stalker~) “My name is Jeong Yunho, and I’m waited for 20 years to serve my beautiful soulmate.” He said it so cheesily that Nana starts to blush. “My name is Nana, I’m sorry but I don’t want you to see me in this condition right now. Can you please leave? You can come when I’m stabilized myself tomorrow.” Yunho just confused and agreed with it as he doesn’t want to come off as pushy soulmate in their first meeting. After he left, Nana released her breath. She didn’t even realised she was holding her breath this whole time. But, she kind of wondering, what kind of face does he has? Dog-like? Cat-like? Doesn’t matter, she can’t see them anyways.

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origamiblades · 4 years

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dude, @poewingsdameron is absolutely right that im not gonna edit it because im lazy af so here’s the snip from my story that has the vision factor; free of removing the hondo-is-a-pseudo tease:

With a simple closing of his hand over the old, dusty lightsaber Hux found the very foundations of his world shattering. The small, tucked away room falling into pieces that collapsed onto the ground. Armitage made a bit of a face, not quite registering immediately what had just happened.

And when he did, it was because he was greeted by the sight of two men he didn't recognize. They were clad in robes— akin to what the Jedi took to wearing, if Hux was right— and bickering back and forth. Hux blinked, and the scene changed fast.

Now he was surrounded by the bright white walls of the Empire's old ships, and before him stood none other than Vader himself. It was only then Hux caught onto the fact that something was very… very wrong.

Vader turned to look at Hux when the man found himself uttering a low, confused curse— and Armitage in turn tucked the lightsaber behind his back and attempted to hold the man's gaze.

He didn't retreat when Vader started towards him— not until the shape shifted before his very eyes. No longer was everything bright… no longer was it Vader, but now it was none other than Kylo Ren himself stalking towards Hux.

Armitage couldn't help but flinch when Kylo reached out, already anticipating the pain from his attempt at probing his mind. Mental defenses jumping up to keep the intruder out.

Then Kylo was passing through him, and Hux jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder. Peering over it, he saw it was no longer Ren he was in the presence of but… Ben. He could tell the difference. He could see it in the man's eyes.

And then the apparition shattered, like the room had— crumbling to the floor as darkness swept over Armitage. And a voice rang up from behind him once again.

"But Father—" Armitage didn't dare turn around at the sound of the child, the evidence of the fact the kid was crying betrayed by his tone of voice and the sniffle that followed.

"No," Armitage's blood ran cold and he froze on the spot. The responding voice was Brendol's… "I will not have any child of mine playing with shitty little toys. Grow up, Armitage."

He knew his Father was angry, and despite all the years felt the immediate urge to appease him— as if anticipating his rage to turn on him. Hux found himself whirling around to take in the sight of the child with a mop of bright red hair as he reached outwards and yanked the toy from Brendol's grasp without having to make any physical contact.

When it settled into the child's hands, the kid realized he'd made a mistake and quickly dropped it. Stammering an apology and backing up quickly as Brendol advanced after him.

Armitage closed his eyes tightly. He had repressed so many of his beatings, but he hadn't anticipated a recall to be so… screwed.

"What the kriff did I get into..." Hux muttered to himself, hearing the words echo back to him, "That could possibly make me hallucinate so badly?"

"It's a memory." A voice piped up from behind him, and Armitage snapped his eyes open to look back to watch a cloaked figure with his hood up approach to stand beside him, "Is this why you've cut yourself off from the Force so stubbornly?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hux squinted to the man, then looked towards where the scene was paused before them, "This didn't happen."

"It did." The man pressed, reaching up to slide the hood off his head. Armitage noticed that it was the same man he'd seen earlier, only much older now, "Exactly like this."

Hux barked a laugh, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head, "You're delusional, old man."

Instead of taking insult, the man smiled— and it was enough to prompt an exasperated sigh from Armitage as he lowered his hand in favour of gesturing towards the memory, "You're trying to say I'm capable of manipulating the Force."

"And you're so quick to reject that idea?"

"Yes." Hux replied immediately, before holding up the lightsaber to stare down at it, "The mere concept is ridiculous."

"And yet it's true." Hux huffed, looking to the man once more as he stepped closer, "You've been through so much. More than anyone ever should be. Your Father punished you for your gift and you, to protect yourself, repressed the memory of ever having it and refused to allow yourself to connect with the Force."

"Is…" Armitage paused, before holding up the lightsaber and giving it a careful but firm shake, "Is that why it called to me?"

The man grinned now, reaching out to place his hand on Hux's shoulder, "Yes."

Hux frowned, before staring at the lightsaber for a long moment. Then squinting as he turned back to the memory. Watching it dissipate to show his mother. He sighed softly, before noticing the older man ease closer to the apparition. A soft, curious look to his features

"Is this your mother?" The man ventured softy, and Hux nodded before realizing he wasn't looking back at him. Clearing his throat, he found his voice.

"Yes." Armitage reached up and smoothed out his hair, sighing again— before following after the man, "Are you Obi-Wan?"

Bewildered, the older man turned to regard Armitage. And Hux found himself straightening up before continuing on to explain the very specific question, "It's just. I met a weequay and he said something about how. Well." Hux faltered, annoyed that words escaped him.

"Hondo Ohnaka." Hearing the man speak said weequay's name prompted Armitage to actually grin a bit, almost as if in disbelief, "I'm not surprised to hear that Hondo is still alive."

"Oh, he's not dying anytime soon." Armitage couldn't help smirking at the odd look that earned him, "Long story, and I'm on a… tight schedule."

Obi-Wan hummed— Hux knew it had to be Obi-Wan, now— and gave a small nod before making his way back over to Hux. Taking the hand that held the lightsaber in his own and raising it up to be between the two of them.

"You've wanted to shed yourself of your heritage for so long now," It wasn't a question, and Obi-Wan offered a bit of a mischievous grin, "But if you're willing to keep some of it in tact; you are a Kenobi."

Hux snorted in disbelief, giving his head a shake, but Obi-Wan merely removed his hand and offered one last thing, "Do take good care of my lightsaber."

Armitage managed a confused look before everything faded to a deep, thick blackness. Then he vaguely noticed the sound of his name being called over and over…

Poe, it was Poe's voice!

"Armitage!" Hux managed to blink his eyes, staring to the man that was holding him tightly and shaking him slightly. Armitage had been certain he'd find himself sprawled groggily on the floor— but instead he was standing, a death grip on the table before him as well as around the lightsaber that had prompted him to grab it.

"What the hell, man." Poe admonished once he finally noticed that Hux was once more aware of his surroundings, "You can't just go poking around behind hidden doors like that!"

Then, Poe sighed, patting a hand over Armitage's to try and prompt him to ease up on his grip on the table, voice lowering as it took on a tone of concern, "You okay there, buddy? You got really distant for a good moment there. Looked like you'd seen a ghost or something."

#ooc #/jazz hands #tw mentioned abuse #tw mentioned child abuse #it doesnt actually happen but it's made obvious its something in his past so #but it... IS something in his canon past #oof... tragedy baby #armi: dry laugh yeah you could say that #@ the end bit

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thesexymnm · 5 years

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#2 - the mystery of forest lane

hey again! this is another writing piece i made earlier this year in may. i really like this because it’s different from the stuff i normally write. also this is quite long so get comfortable. i hope you like it, and as always im open to criticism. alright, enjoy The Mystery of Forest Lane.

“It happened on April 18th, driving home from work. It was dinner rush at the diner and Kathy Willoughby, the witch of West Park Diner, also known as my boss, cut my fifteen minute break so I could serve sodas and coffee.” I took a deep breath, shaking my head, my hands squeezing the bridge of my nose. Last time I checked, the head detective of the state of Maine isn’t supposed to listen to employee complaints, yet here I am doing just that. This interrogation had been drawn out long enough, we ask people to be as detailed as they remember, but she had gone a bit overboard, borderline ranting. Ms. Adrienne Miller was the woman I was talking to. Forty years old, has seventeen year old son, Sam, and she has been working as a waitress at the West Park Diner for five years. Before that, she was unemployed. She also got divorced six years ago from Sam’s father, Larry Wilson. Adrienne has multiple DUI’s on her record, they were all quite recent, starting back two years ago and the most recent one was four months ago. It is truly amazing what you can find on people when you have the access that I do. Although back when I was probably as young as her son, I just judged people on what I could see, what just their face and body language could reveal. I find myself going back to this tactic from time to time.

Using the skills I had taught myself as a young boy, I take a look at Adrienne in these moments, and just observe. Dark brown eyes, roughly the same color as her hair. Olive skin, beautifully fair, hairless and smooth. I drove my eyes along her forearm until I hit speed bump; a purple bruise crosses my vision. I cannot make out the full shape due to the injury being half covered by her sleeve, but I can tell it was not the cause of abuse. The spot on her arm is a common area to pose an injury on oneself. In fact, I had one in the same spot in the recent weeks before this interrogation. As I move my focus away from the bruise, I spy a few birthmarks and then my eyes divert to the tips of her fingers; nubs, nails bitten away almost down to her cuticles. This is something to note. Adrienne Miller is the type of woman to have long, extravagant red glossy nails that made an irritating clicking noise when tapped on a table. The fact that her nails are practically nonexistent tell me she has been through some stress, and recently. To add on top of that, her normal glam outfit that I have seen her strut countless times on the sidewalks of Van Buren has not shown to this interrogation. Neither is her long, flowing, straight hair. Rather, it is pulled back, loosely like she was in a hurry to get out, and the rest of her outfit would support that idea. It’s quite funny, how much you can tell from just looking at a person, all it is is just practice, years of it. Anyone can be a detective if they’ve got brains and 20/20 vision. Documents and reports are one way to do my job, but I could have never gotten where I am without my keen observation skills.

I’ve done these types of examines on other people as well, but when I look at them, they start to fidget, tapping on the table, foot bouncing like a bunny in spring, they have the darting eyes that scream, “I’m guilty! Please just take me away! Lock me up, please get these lies over with!” And they usually are guilty, but not Adrienne. She barely notices me observing her every inch, she keeps rambling on about her boss, Kathy Willoughby. I’ve had my fair share of conversations with the lady, and I can see where she is coming from, but for crying out loud, I’ve got work to do!

I finally interrupted her, saying, “Ms. Miller, please only talk about details that are relevant to the case.” She nodded, carrying on with the story.

“As outraged as I was at Kathy, I was just happy to come home that night. It took a few minutes to start up my car but it wasn’t anything unusual. I was driving down Forest Lane, going south, when I hear noises above me.” I stopped her again, “Ms. Miller can you describe what the noise sounded like?”

“It sounded like a big helicopter,” she said. “I only remember that because it was drowning out my radio. It kept going, for a couple minutes, and I didn’t understand what was going on. By then, I was alone on the road. The last person I had talked to was Kathy, and there wasn’t a car to be seen. But then, there was this big flash of bright light. It stunned me so much that I stopped steering. The helicopter noises were getting louder every second, and that was all I could hear. I let go of the wheel to shield my eyes but seconds later my truck crashed into a tree. I felt fine, there was some glass in my arm and my leg was hurting, it was hard for me to breathe, I suppose I had the wind knocked out of me. I opened the door and fell out of my car. By this time the light was down to a dim shine coming from the woods. It had stopped completely twenty minutes before you guys found me.”

I tried to listen to her fairly, but like with many cases, I had my doubts. This woman is claiming she experienced something out of this world, like an alien encounter, and I didn’t believe her for a second. What I see in this case is just a desperate mother trying to cover up the fact she was driving while drunk.

“Ms. Miller, with all do respect, how am I supposed to believe you when on the night of April 18th, you were driving while intoxicated? How do I know that this story isn’t just a cover up to distract from the real facts in this case? It also does not help that you have four other DUI’s on your record, all of which you tried to get out of, and failed poorly. Ms. Miller, I along with the rest of the force here are extremely smart people, and you’ve already succumb to the more unfortunate side of law enforcement. Now, if I were you I would just confess, unless you really believe your own story. Which, I’m doubting. So, tell me, what really is the truth here, Adrienne?”

Many people have heard me interrogate people before, and when they see the video of me interrogating Adrienne Miller for the first time on this case, they ask me why I went so hard on her. I’ve interrogated people in so many different cases as head detective, everything from petty robbery to murderers. I earn the truth from these people. But there was something different about Adrienne. I could tell she wasn’t lying to me. I’ve been doing this job long enough to tell. But it couldn’t be true. How could it be? Despite what my own thoughts told me, I had to get the truth, I had to find it. Because in my mind, the story she was telling me certainly was not it.

Adrienne just looked at me. She stared for about a minute, until I tapped the table with my finger, letting my nail make a click noise that was loud enough to make her jump. She looked like she was sleeping with her eyes open, and my nail hitting the table was enough to make her jump awake. She collected herself and started again, but with a different, nastier tone. “Detective Sabrowski,” she paused, “Rick, I am telling the truth. You know I am.”

“Ms. Miller, I don’t know anything about it. That’s why I’m asking you, now please stop with these outrageous cover stories and let’s cut to the chase already.” Adrienne looked at me again, smugly. “Rick, I’ve told you my story. It’s true. Don’t make this interrogation into something personal now.” My eyebrows furrowed in disgust of her thinking I would ever do such a thing. “I’m not doing that! Now tell me what you are up to!” I was getting angry now, as with my last syllables of the command I had just ordered from her, my raging fist came crashing down onto the table, making my resting pen that was laying there jump wildly into the air, and crashing back down again. I could tell Adrienne was startled by my disposition. She gathered herself and her thoughts and said, “There is nothing left to discuss, can this be over with already?” I looked at the observation window, a one sided window with my close colleague and best friend, Don, on the other side. He’s my partner, and my best man. He buzzed through, saying, “Let’s wrap it up.” As soon as those words came through the speaker, Adrienne got up, and I opened the door to let her out. I watched as she strut down the hallway, and I felt a wave of entitlement radiate off her, even from down the long hall. I let out a deep sigh, I couldn’t help but feel I had let her go, that she was guilty and just playing with my mind. After all, it wouldn’t have been the first time...

I sunk down in my office chair. I was swamped with open case files. My head was in my hands, I’m always working. My wife, Evelyn, hates it. I don’t know what to tell her, I don’t like how much I’m working either, but I can’t do anything about it. The department needs me, and they are dumping everything they’ve got on to me. I rub my eyes and check the clock.

“11:30”, Don walks in and says. “Really Rick? Go home.”

I sighed, I knew he had a point but I just couldn’t leave. “Come on, what about Evelyn?”

“I already called her an hour ago, she knows it’s gonna be a late night.” These crazy late work nights have been going on for months now. Ever since they fired the previous head detective, my old position has not yet been filled. I’m doing the job of two detectives. Don offered to help me out, but I couldn’t say yes. That would mean more hours for him, and he has a family, two adorable little girls. Evelyn and I don’t have any kids, and it’s times like these that I’m thankful we don’t. Life has been very hard on us lately. Her father just passed away a few months ago, and we had to put down our German Shepherd, Moose. He was twelve years old but still had the energy of a puppy. It was hard on us to let him go, but it was for his own good.

Don broke the silence I was filling with sad memories, saying “Sheriff Brown said it’s time to go home, you’ve worked twenty two hours this week and it’s only Tuesday. I’m saying, as a friend, go home to Evelyn. I know times have been hard lately and this isn’t doing it any good. Spend some time with her.” I stopped playing tough guy, and nodded, then began to pack up my things and head home. Had I really already worked that much? It felt like I had only been working for seconds, everything I do at work flies by. Don was still in the doorway as I was leaving my office. As I walked out, he patted my back, and then I went to my car.

I opened the door to the outside and a breeze of frigid air hit my face like a slap to the cheek. I walked to my car, and the sky was pitch black, no stars, but there usually weren’t any. Despite what lots of people may think about it, I like driving at night. There are less cars on the roads since everyone is at home, resting, chatting with family. I don’t stay at the station longer than I should because I want to get away from family, from Evelyn. That’s not the case whatsoever, I love my wife. But sometimes, my job feels like an escape from my problems. For a couple hours, I am fully invested into someone else’s problems. Being Maine’s very own Sherlock consumes every ounce of thinking power I have to offer. Piecing clues together like they do in the movies and television shows, that’s me, and I enjoy it. The joy you get from solving a case is exhilarating, nobody understands it, by I do. Doing this job gives me a kind of high nothing else could ever give me. I’m just addicted to my job.

Driving down the winding road of Forest Lane, the road where Ms. Adrienne Miller had crashed her car due to a unidentified object blocking her view. I thought of this that night driving back home, and I chuckled to myself. “As if!” I said with a smirk. I remember Don telling me which part of the road she had crashed on as I approached it myself. I saw the mauled tree that her Ford crashed into on that night. It was quite absurd, I thought to myself as I drove by the site. “And I don’t hear a thing,” I thought to myself, “she must’ve been lying to me, straight to my face. And after all we’ve been through together! I can’t believe she never tells me the truth, not even this once, when she will be liable for her words.” Just then I started to hear things. It sounded, like a helicopter. And then I saw a light, a big, bright shining light coming from the woods. Quick breaths began to escape my mouth, moving fast in and out of my body. My hands left the wheel to shield my eyes from the light. It’s true! It is all true! Adrienne was right all along, she was telling the truth! Over the noises I heard came a big crash, and the front of my car was smashed completely. And then I woke up.

I rub my eyes awake, and I feel weak. My skin looks a bit paler than I remember it being. Once I can see clear enough, I notice I’m in a hospital gown. Hospital gown? How did I get here? I was panicking, where was Evelyn? “Hello?” I shout into the room. My eyes dart from the curtain to my left to the medical supplies on my right, stored away in cabinets above and below a counter. I started to become extremely nervous. What had happened to me? The last thing I remembered was driving home on Forest Lane…

Adrienne! Adrienne was driving down Forest Lane when she saw the light shine from the woods and when she heard the helicopter like noise. Was it real? No, it couldn’t be. That’s impossible. I had probably just passed out on my desk again due to dehydration. It’s happened before. But I was driving home, was it a dream? Possibly, maybe I’m still in it. I look around, and I don’t see the door to leave the room. It must be on the other side of the curtain. No one has replied to my cries for help yet. “Hey! Anyone! What’s going on?” Still there is no reply and I’m worried sick. Where is Evelyn? Surely if this were real she would be waiting for me to wake up, at my bedside, and when she saw my eyes creak open she would say, “Oh Rick! Rick! I’m so glad you’re awake, I love you!” Yet, she is not here nor is any other living soul. This has to be a dream. I grab my right arm, only then realizing I’m hooked to an I.V., and my forearm is wrapped in a big bandage, from elbow to wrist. I take my hand and pinch the skin hard, and shut my eyes tightly, and I concentrate on waking up so hard that I forget to breathe and after two minutes my eyes open like broken blinds and I gasp for the oxygen that smells like a pharmacy, granted this is a hospital and it would make sense. But if I can smell, and I’m not waking up, than this is real. But how? Why am I here? I need to speak to someone, and soon.

Just then, as if on cue, a woman steps into the room. She is clearly a nurse, wearing baby blue scrubs and disposable gloves that she immediately throws out when she walks into the room. She has long, strawberry blonde hair pulled back by a headband and pale, freckled skin. When she turns and faces me, it is clear now that she is pregnant. I must have been looking at her strange, startled by seeing my first human since I awoke. She looks at me with kind eyes and says, “Detective Sabrowski, you’ve gotten yourself into quite some trouble.” I must have looked at her with an even more confused look, so she elaborated. “You’ve been in a coma for two days, today is May 9th. My name is Bonnie Scottsdale. I’ve been taking care of you, now what is the last thing-”

“Where is my wife? Where is Evelyn?” The words busted out of my mouth, interrupting her. I wasn’t concerned about being polite, I just wanted to know how I got here and where my wife was.

“Detective Sabroski, Evelyn is out in the lobby. She was with you all night and just left about an hour ago to sign some forms.” I let out a sigh of relief, knowing she was safe. “Anyway, I’m sure you may have questions about what happened to you, why you are here. Can you tell me the last thing you can remember? We will start from there.”

I nodded in agreement with her. “I remember I left the station, per my partner Don Hanna’s request, I hopped in my car and started for home, until I got to Forest Lane. I started to hear these helicopter noises, they got louder and louder until it was drowning out my radio. There was a shining light coming from the woods, so bright I had to let go of the wheel to shield my eyes-”

And in the time it would take for someone to snap their fingers, or blink their eyes, I realized what I was describing to this woman. I was describing Adrienne Miller’s story. But surely I couldn’t be just reciting it from memory. All these things had actually happened to me too, but why?

#writing #writers #my writing #writing community #creative writing #short story #writers on tumblr

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17-imagines · 7 years

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[scenario] [request] ice cream & kisses

3: “Please, don’t leave.” 13: “Kiss me.” 32: “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

(i... uh... love jihoon with constipated feelings?? ji is kind of an a-hole in the beginning but he’s actually very soft for u)

Title: ice cream & kisses

Member: jihoon ft. wingman dad seungcheol

Genre: angst w a good ending

Word Count: 1633

“Leave me alone. You can get so annoying sometimes, you know? Go find someone else to bother.” Jihoon shuts his studio door loudly and harder than necessary, to make his point clearer, leaving you on the other side.

A worried Seungcheol sticks his head into the room, eyes full of concern as he enters, walking towards you in strides. He glances at the shut door, and the sullen expression on your face, putting two and two together.

“It’s just how he is, (F/N) - wait, please don’t cry, it’s just Jihoon being… Well, Jihoon.” He runs a hand through his hair, removing his hat and placing it on your head. “C’mon. You don’t want the others to see you like this, right? I’ll treat you to ice cream, so quit crying, yeah?”

Seungcheol smiles at you, pinching one cheek lovingly before taking you by the shoulders and guiding you towards the staircase, shutting the heavy door behind him.

Inside his studio, Jihoon leans with his back against the door, sitting on the floor. Somehow, he feels he’s gone too far, said words too harsh for someone as delicate as you, said something he didn’t mean.

If there’s anything Jihoon knows about words, it’s that once they’re spoken, sung, or rapped, they can’t be taken back.

He’s somewhat surprised that he wakes up in his studio, neck stiff and back sore from sleeping in his chair, because normally they’d send you up to wake him and drag him back to the dorm. He checks the time and it’s 5 AM, 5 hours too late for his wakeup call.

He sighs and runs a hand through his messy hair, shaking his computer awake with a wave of his mouse. No progress, with the exception of the beat he gave you a sample of, and he thinks that maybe the reason he can’t get anything done is because he has no inspiration.

So he puts his hat on, digs a mask out of his drawer, and leaves his studio, in search of a muse.

He freezes when he reaches the main lobby, the room silent, give or take the soft sleeping sounds emitting from the figure situated on the couch beside the ping-pong table.

[5:21 AM] jihoon: (f/n)’s asleep in the lobby? why didn’t u guys call her a cab [5:25 AM] seungcheol: well shit, ji maybe if u bothered to check ur phone, u would’ve known we asked u to [5:26 AM] jihoon: i’m not her dad [5:26 AM] jisoo: hey. some ppl r tryna sleep here!! [5:27 AM] jihoon: watev im going back to the studio [5:27 AM] seungcheol: ur an asshole

He sighs and slides his phone into the pocket of his sweats, rolling his eyes when he sees a car pull up, a sleepy Seungcheol stepping out. He enters the building without sparing a glance at the onlooking Jihoon, walking to your sleeping figure, poking you awake.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

“Why are you in my apartment?”

“You’re still in the lobby of Pledis, stupid.”

“Ah. That makes more sense,” you laugh, taking Seungcheol’s hand, who assists in pulling you up. He mentions the cab outside that’s waiting for you, and that he’s already put the fare on his card. He shoos you away, watching the cab pull away in the direction of your apartment.

Jihoon scoffs when Seungcheol shoots him a sharp glare, refusing to make eye contact with the fellow leader. He can’t deny there’s a strange tension in the atmosphere, and a heavy feeling in his heart from watching the soft, intimate interaction between the both of you.

“Ji, if you don’t want to accept her feelings for you, don’t. But you don’t need to treat her like trash just because she feels the way she does.” Seungcheol approaches the hostile producer, who takes a step back, towards the stairwell.

“It’s the way I am, Cheol. I’ve never liked a girl before - I’ve never even had a girl as a friend. I don’t know how to act.” Jihoon sighs, kicking at dust. “I’m such a shithead.”

“You like her?!” Seungcheol asks, mind blown, hands waving in the air as he speaks. “That’s your way of showing you like her? Shutting doors in her face, making her cry, letting her sleep on that lame excuse of a couch?”

“Well… I want to be gentler with her, but it never works out the way I want it to. I didn’t mean to hurt her in any way.” Jihoon groans, tossing his head back.

“Well, you’re in a sticky situation, aren’t cha’?” Seungcheol grins as Jihoon rolls his eyes, arms crossed. “You know, when I took her out for ice cream yesterday - to make her stop crying, thanks to you - she told me she’s not going to visit anymore.”

“HUH?”

“Oh, look at you now, Ji! You’re lively.” He dodges the punch Jihoon throws, shrugging at the flustered pink-faced male. “She’s practicing for a showcase.”

“Oh… That’s right, for her school.” Seungcheol claps, grinning giddily.

“Ah, so he does listen to her!”

“Shut up before I kill you, Cheol.”

Seungcheol has a shit-eating grin on his face, and if it weren’t for what he’s about to say, he’d already be beaten half-to-death with Jihoon’s guitar.

“You can’t get into the show if I’m dead.”

“Fuck,” Jihoon groans, “Okay, fine. You can live. Just get me a spot in that showcase, and I swear I’ll never hurt her again.”

Seungcheol holds out a hand, and Jihoon takes it, scowling. “Good to do business with you, Mr. Lee. Don’t let me down, because if she comes to me crying again - I’ll be broke.”

Jihoon scoffs. “Not going to happen ever again.”

For the remainder of the week, Jihoon locks himself in his studio, composing, pouring the feelings he failed to express into a ballad, written for you.

If he can’t say the words he wants to, he’ll sing them instead.

“Cheol, I’ve seen the acts hundreds of times during rehearsals, I really should be backstage practicing.” You attempt to get up, but Seungcheol’s quick to act, pulling you down, a firm grip on your arm. “Ow?”

“I swear to you, you haven’t seen or heard this before.”

The lights dim, diminishing your chance to escape, so you lean back in your chair, defeated. “You better be right, Seungcheol.”

A single spotlight fades onto the stage, falling upon a mess of brown locks and sharp eyes, a male donning an oversized maroon sweater and black skinny jeans. The epitome of your desires, sadness, and love, Lee Jihoon, in the flesh, stands before you.

You can listen to sad songs And shed tears, Music is like that.

You must listen to this song, Don’t listen and pretend you haven’t. If you hear my heart Can’t you come back to me?

You’ve always admired Jihoon, despite the cold front he puts up. He lacks the ability to express his feelings and is uncomfortable showing any signs of affection, but always counteracts it with sweet lyrics and touching melodies.

It’s the reason you fell in love with him, the reason you almost fell out of love with him, and the reason why you’re sobbing from your seat, heart aching.

You catch a glimpse of his figure and escape into an empty changing room in an attempt to avoid confrontation, not wanting him to see you, eyes reddened and cheeks puffy.

“You can’t hide, you know.”

You turn, surprised, and reach for the door behind him. He meets your hand with a light grasp, a strained expression on his face. “Please, don’t leave. I know I’m the last person you want to see, but we need to talk.”

“Why? Jihoon, you made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with me. And then you just pop into the showcase with a song like that - I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Don’t think, then. Kiss me.”

Unable to put his feelings into words, he resorts to actions - with trembling hands he cups your face, leaning in close. He closes the space between the both of you, unsure; testing the waters. He’s never kissed anyone before, but he could get used to kissing you.

It’s strange, unknown territory for him, but he’s glad his first kiss is with you, an unexplainable shiver running through him as he feels you relax against him, hands grabbing at his chest.

“Uh… I… What?” You breathe, pulling away for air. “I thought you didn’t like me that way, Jihoon.”

“I thought I didn’t either. I believed I didn’t. But seeing you with Seungcheol pissed me off, and everytime I hurt you, I felt annoyed at myself. I don’t know how this ‘love’ thing works, but I want it to work with you.”

You refuse to meet his gaze, lips swollen red from the earlier kiss. He’s disheartened at the fact that you can’t bear to look at him, so he gently uses a hand to bring your chin up, your eyes meeting.

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified. As many times as I’ve written about it in songs, it’s nothing like the real thing. The real thing is scarier.” He sighs, shaking his head, a slight pout in his bottom lip. “I don’t deserve you after putting you through hell.”

“You really don’t,” you shrug, smiling at the shocked expression on his face. “But I’m stupid, and in love with you too.”

He grumbles, pulling you into an embrace. “I’m sorry for hurting you so much.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“What’re you gonna do about it then?” You tease, stepping away from the hug. He looks at you, puzzled.

“Compensate,” he suggests, a small smile on his face. “With ice cream and kisses.”

#im on a roll #wOW!!!#i have to do hw now OTL #lee jihoon #woozi #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

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ylla · 7 years

Text

Friday Night Gurus - Chapter 1

Series: JJBA Ships: josuyasu (others will eventually happen too, but im tagging as i go) Tags: au where theyre famous, modern au, pining, josuke is a hot mess and has exactly 0 chill Rating: T (for this chapter only, bc eventually there will be sex/smoking the devil’s lettuce)

AO3 link

reeeeee so i’ve been in and out of the doctor’s office with a sinus infection so intense, i’ve been to the ER due to pain. fun shit. i came up with this AU while listening to music while waiting for someone to come smother me with a pillow to put me out of my misery.

this unbeta’d because i wrote this on my phone while waiting. i plan on keeping up with this idea because it delights me. next chapter will follow shortly too, because i’m trying to break this up into smaller chunks as i hammer it out on my phone (which fucking sucks, lemme tell ya). if you notice anything weird, tell me about it so i can fix it!!

The first time Josuke Higashikata meets Okuyasu Nijimura was because of a fuckup in a magazine photo shoot schedule. The shoot in question was for a feature in Rolling Stone; award season was coming soon and they wanted to feature the current Biggest Names in Music. Some poor intern (who was probably promptly fired) fucked up EVERYONE’S schedule, so all the bands and singers had to come in during the same hellish week in June. It was a nightmare for all involved.

Of course, the cover would feature the biggest name in the industry which, naturally, was Josuke. Discovered at sixteen, with two world tours, four albums (two of which went platinum), and at least 20 different awards, he was twenty-four and still going. His latest album dropped too late for Grammy consideration last year, but he was feeling real confident. This was his year. He’ll get that fucking Grammy, even if he killed him.

Josuke still considered himself to be a chill, down-to-earth kind of man despite his superstardom; able to roll with the punches whenever they came. He got that sometimes things just didn’t go your way, but he still couldn’t help it when his precious time off gets thwarted by some dumb idiot.

“What the fuck, Koichi?” Josuke whined on their way to the shoot, “Why couldn’t have this happened literally like, last week?”

Koichi Hirose was his manager, agent, PR guy, and truth be told, the only person beside his mother and grandfather who truly knew him. “Stop whining, it’s not the end of the world.”

“Dude, this was supposed to be my first week off in forever—“

For someone who was 5’3 and weighed 110lbs soaking wet, Koichi could be intimidating. He gave Josuke a look before parking and turning off the car, “Can’t be helped. They wanted to do the cover shoot last since there’s two of them.”

Josuke made a face. He forgot that this would be a dual cover. Him on one side, some band on the other. “Who’s the other band?”

Like he was still in school, Koichi started rattling off some facts, “Arrowhead, they’re a metal band. Comprised of four members. Skyrocketed up the charts this past year with their second album. You guys fought over #1 album and singles on Billboard on and off all year.” Koichi was the type of guy who always did his homework, “Now come on, you’re gonna be late.”

The shoot was operating in some random ass warehouse in some backassward part of Los Angles. Josuke and Koichi waltz into some giant room that was getting set up; a group of 4 people huddled in a corner eating what appeared to be a large quantity of Taco Bell with a sharp dressed man standing near them. Josuke’s kind of people.

“Oi! Tonio!” Koichi called out with a wave, before gesturing at Josuke to follow him over. Josuke barely restrained an eyeroll; his hair was up in a ponytail and he was wearing some worn-out sweats with an old t-shirt, not exactly looking good for first introductions.

“Koichi,” the finely dressed man shook Koichi’s outstretched hand, “good to see you.”

“Josuke, this is Tonio Trussardi, we work at the same agency.” Koichi gestured at Tonio, “And Tonio, this is Josuke Higashikata.”

Josuke held out his hand and got a firm handshake, “Nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Tonio’s eyes sparkled. He let go of Josuke’s hand and gestured to the group of people sitting behind him, “These are my charges, Arrowhead.”

He started with introductions, pointing to a man leaned up against the wall, who had sleepy eyes and a face Josuke would find attractive if it wasn’t for the tattoo on his chin, “Yuuya Fungami, drummer.” Yuuya nodded in greeting. Tonio pointed to a pretty girl with long black hair who was intently staring at Koichi, “Yukako Yamagishi, lead guitarist.” She didn’t even acknowledge Josuke, but held out a hand for Koichi to shake (which he did, if a little hesitant due to her staring). He swept a hand towards a man with impressively tall hair and two braids, “Keicho Nijimura, bassist.” Keicho gave them a cold stare and said nothing. “And last, but not least,” Tonio clapped his hand on a scarred man who had been too busy slamming a taco the entire time and didn’t notice people had walked up, “Okuyasu Nijimura, lead singer and rhythm guitarist.”

Okuyasu jumped a little, before turning a little pink and waving, “Sup?” His voice sounded he had came out of the womb smoking like a freight train.

Josuke was taken aback when he got a good look at the guy. The symmetrical scars running parallel on Okuyasu’s face did nothing to detract from how goddamn hot he was. Square jaw, angular face, black and silver hair pulled up into a ponytail, three piercings in each ear, ripped arms that had tattoos snaking up them, good God almighty. The first thought that entered Josuke’s mind when looking Okuyasu in the face was Oh no, he’s hot. The first words out of his mouth were “Those tacos smell so fuckin’ good.” Real smooth.

Without another word, Okuyasu offered him one. Josuke ignored how the blonde guy glared at him, and took the proffered taco, “Thanks dude.”

“S’no prob.”

As Josuke started chowing down, about to start chatting up the cute guy, when Okuyasu unceremoniously got up and walked away. Trying not to look so bitter, Josuke turned towards Koichi, but Yukako was asking him incredibly personal questions about his life, while Tonio started ushering Yuuya to hair and makeup, “Photographer’s not here yet, but you need to be ready since you’re the first up.”

“Yeah yeah, stop pushing.”

Keicho’s cold stare was unwavering and was starting to give Josuke the heebie jeebies, “Oi, Koichi. I’m gonna have a smoke.” Josuke didn’t bother to listen for Koichi’s stammered reproach before heading outside (which might have been a strangled cry for help). Truth be told, he really didn’t need a cigarette, he just kind of wanted to go pout. But luck would have it, when he went outside, Okuyasu was sitting on the curb with earbuds in, watching some video. Nosy as shit, Josuke hovered over his shoulder to see what he watching, “Are you watching Real Housewives of Atlanta??”

Okuyasu nearly jumped out of his skin, phone fumbling in his hand, “Oh shit!” he whipped around, wearing glasses he didn’t have on earlier, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, “Uh, I can explain.”

Oh no, he’s so fuckin’ cute Josuke hollered inwardly. He held his hands up in defense, “Sorry man, didn’t mean to scare ya.” Pulling out his own pack of cigarettes, he sat down beside him on the curb, “Don’t gotta explain anything to me, I love trashy reality shows.”

“You ain’t makin’ fun of me, are ya?” Okuyasu asked, scowling.

“What? Nah, reality shows are the shit. I love binge watching them.” Josuke fished around in his pocket, “You got a lighter?”

As if Okuyasu was trying to divine if Josuke was lying, he stared at him for a few seconds before handing over his lighter, “Jus’ asking. Keicho gives me shit for watching them, but they’re hilarious.”

Josuke lit his cigarette, “Don’t let anyone tell you how to live your life.” Inhale. He gave Okuyasu a serious look, speaking on the exhale and handing his lighter back, “Fuck what he thinks.”

Okuyasu was quiet while he lit up and took a drag. For a moment, Josuke was worried that he had already overstepped his boundaries with someone he literally just met. God, no wonder he didn’t have any friends.

He was snapped out of mentally kicking his own ass when Okuyasu spoke, holding up his right earbud, “Wanna watch with me?”

“Hell yes I do, which episode are you on?”

“The one where Ridickulous shows up—“

“THAT’S MY FAVORITE ONE—“

“DUDE, MINE TOO.”

They ended up talking while watching, not really paying much attention to the show until Ridickulous showed up, which was met with raucous laughter. Josuke learned that Keicho was Okuyasu’s older brother, that the only thing better than chocolate or strawberry ice cream was strawberry ice cream with chocolate chunks, he smoked his cigarettes like he did his joints, he smelled insanely good, most of his tattoos didn’t have much more meaning than “They looked cool as shit when my dude drew them”, and that Okuyasu Nijimura was the most genuine person he had ever met. He was sweet, eager to please, loud, and friendly. Josuke was already dangerously enamored.

Josuke hadn’t even been aware of how much time passed until Koichi came out, “They’re looking for you guys. Keicho’s almost done, so you both need to go to hair and makeup.” Yukako hovered in behind Koichi, her eye’s sliding between Okuyasu and Josuke with a blank expression on her face.

“Shit, I hadn’t even realized,” Josuke stood up and held a hand out to help Okuyasu up, “Let’s go before we get murdered.”

With a grin, Okuyasu took his hand and hopped up, “Yeah, god forbid we disappear for a minute.”

It was hilarious watching Okuyasu, who had never had makeup put on him in all his life, grimace as his face was caked. “This shit smells weird.”

Josuke couldn’t help but cackle while he did his own hair, “Get used to it, dude. This is your life now.”

Makeup finished, Okuyasu got started on his own hair, “Josuke, the least surprisin’ thing you could ever tell me about yourself is the fact that you don’t let anyone else do your hair.” He was fighting with stubborn strands that didn’t want to stay still, “The pomp is cool, you pull it off.”

A quick glance in the mirror told Josuke that he managed to keep his blush to a minimum, “Thanks dude, you got some slick style there yourself.” The shy, pleased grin that crossed Okuyasu’s face was an image he wanted branded to the inside of his eyelids.

Okuyasu was up for pictures first, looking anxious and green. It was clear to Josuke that he had no idea what he was doing. “Dude, just relax!” he shouted, “You’re looking fine!” What he didn’t say was that he meant that two ways. With a slight nod, Okuyasu relaxed slightly, and his pictures started coming out better. Josuke was trying to go for the somewhat disinterested watching, but damn, he couldn’t help but stare. This dude was cute. Out of the corner of his eye, Josuke caught Keicho staring at him again. What was that guy’s deal??

He couldn’t ruminate on an answer, because as soon as he thought that, Yuuya suddenly sat down beside him, causing Josuke to yelp in a totally manly way, “Jesus! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry dude,” Yuuya was eating a leftover taco, “Busy watchin’ the show?” He tilted his head toward the photographer fussing at Okuyasu, shit-eating grin on his face.

Josuke did not like that smug look Yuuya was sporting, “He looks nervous. Jus’ tryin’ to help him out.”

“That’s just how he is,” without looking over his shoulder, Yuuya tossed the taco wrapper behind him, hitting a trashcan, “He doesn’t know how to chill out.”

They sat in silence few a couple of minutes before the eyes Josuke felt on his back were getting on his last goddamned nerve, “Why is that guy staring at me like I murdered everyone he’s ever cared about?”

Yuuya eyed Keicho for a second before shrugging, “That’s just how he is too.”

Before Josuke could even ask what the fuck that even meant, Keicho punched Yuuya’s shoulder as he walked by, “Come on, asshole. It’s time for the cover.”

“Ow, that fuckin’ hurt, dickhead.” Taking his time, Yuuya stood up and stretched, rubbing his punched shoulder. “By the way, Okuyasu’s single,” Yuuya said casually, as if he was answering a question that had been posed.

Josuke sputtered, his face scarlet, “WHAT MAKES YOU THINK—“

Yuuya pointed at his nose, “I got a nose for romance,” and then he dead ass winked at Josuke before walking away. Josuke wondered if he was that obvious. Perhaps that explains why big bro Keicho stared daggers at him. Maybe he needed to work on being subtle, but Higashikata’s were never, ever subtle (thanks mom).

The cover shoot didn’t take too long, much to Josuke’s surpise. Not a whole lot of time passed before it was Josuke’s turn. Okuyasu was dragging his feet, watching intently, while Keicho was demanding they leave. Tonio, bless him, told them that he needed to speak to Koichi about business matters before they left (mercifully saving him from Yukako’s question of “What do you look for in a woman?”) Josuke didn’t know if Tonio was picking up on something, or just making assumptions, but he appreciated it.

When the pictures were mercifully done, Josuke ran to the bathroom real quick to reorient himself, muttering under his breath, “Okay, Higashikata. You got this. You’re cool, suave, and undeniably handsome.” Josuke applied a quick coat of lip gloss before heading back out there, “Get that cute guy’s number.”

After leaving the bathroom, Josuke was greeted to an almost empty room. Okuyasu was nowhere to be found. In fact no one associated with Arrowhead was there; Keicho had muscled them out of the door as soon as Josuke left the room, Koichi helpfully explained, patting Josuke’s shoulder as he felt his confidence leak out of him like a sad balloon.

Josuke pouted the whole way home, and Koichi couldn’t tempt him out of a foul mood. “Josuke, what’s the problem??” Koichi asked, finally fed up with his huffing and sighing, “Why are you like this?”

“Koichi, I’m gay,” Josuke said, head leaned against the window.

“I know this, you’ve told me before. What does that have to do with you sighing like a moody teenager?”

“I was gonna ask Okuyasu for his number, but they left before I could.” He felt like a fucking fool, why did he have to run to the bathroom like a scared baby? It was taking a lot of effort to not punch his own face in. “That Yuuya guy told me he was single and everything. Was I that obvious??”

As they sat at a stoplight, Koichi patted his shoulder, tactfully choosing to not answer the last question, “Don’t sweat it, Hollywood is small. You’ll run into him again.” Actually, Koichi could easily get Okuyasu’s number, but he knew better than to offer. It would only hurt Josuke’s pride.

Josuke shrugged and changed the subject, deciding to throw a pity party for himself later, “So about that Yukako chick…”

Koichi grimaced, “She followed me around the whole time. Asked me how I got such a high powered client when we’re the same age! And a bunch of personal stuff like my underwear size and what kind of man did I consider myself to be.”

“At least she’s cute?” Josuke offered, an apologetic smile on his face.

“She is that…also intense. Very…intense…”

“Did you get her number?”

Koichi sighed as he pulled into Josuke’s driveway, “She took my phone, put her number in it, and then texted herself.”

“Damn,” Josuke snorted with mirth, “Hey man, you might end up getting laid before my dry spell ends. I’m rooting for ya.”

Josuke didn’t need to look at Koichi to know that he was getting a look. He hopped out of the car and waved goodbye as his friend pulled out of the driveway. Upon walking through the front door, he greeted an empty house. “I’m home!” he called out to no one. Josuke really wished his mom hadn’t moved back east, but after his grandfather had that heart attack and refused to move to Los Angeles, someone had to stay with him. He could use advice, and was tempted to call her. No, he was grown ass man. No advice from mom, you die like a man.

…He’ll just call her later.

One shower and ordered pizza later, Josuke laid on his bed, booted up both his laptop and PS4. It was time for Netflix and Learning As Much About Your Crush As Possible. With Netflix on Worst Cook’s in America, pizza in one hand, and beer in the other, he typed in Arrowhead into Google and got to work.

Two hours later, he laid on his bed, hands folded across his chest, and stared at his ceiling, Netflix and pizza forgotten. Arrowhead’s second, self-titled album had been on repeat for the last hour. Metal was never his cup of tea, but Okuyasu’s husky, rough voice made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and chills run down his spine. If he didn’t have it bad for Okuyasu before, he certainly fucking did now. Josuke briefly wondered if this is how he sounded when he woke up in the morning, or when he was needy and wanted—

Josuke promptly rolled over and started screaming into his pillow. Why was he like this?

You’re a fucking mess he thought to himself, You have it bad for a dude who you barely even know, just because the way he sings goes directly to your dick.

“He’s also really hot and nice,” Josuke mumbled aloud. He paused before tearing out of bed, determined to shower, do anything that would get his mind off of Okuyasu. “I also need to stop talking to myself!” he said, ripping his clothes off, jumping into lukewarm water.

After a long, somewhat cold shower, Josuke steeled himself. He was gonna get that fucking number.

#josuke higashikata #okuyasu nijimura #josuyasu #josuke x okuyasu #jjba

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