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uwua3 · 4 years

Note

hello hello would it be okay to ask for some fluffy and romantic headcanons for tenma with a childhood s/o? they were both in the entertainment industry, but s/o is now playing music in a band (like bang dream!) thank you thank you!

hi anon~ of course!!! 🥺 i never actually got into rhythm beat games because i simply Lack The Talent to play them T___T please excuse me if i say anything wrong~

summary: tenma promised he’d perform with you at your first stadium show, but will he keep his word?

warnings: unhealthy/strict parents

author’s note: i incorporated So Much Stan Twt culture in this, i swear. please look forward to fanboy! tenma and this super cliché, cute headcanon with you as tenma’s first friend/crush!!! sunshine x sunflower couple rise up ♡ this may be slightly ooc + i used poppin’ party’s sunflower dreams lyrics towards the end!!!

word count: 6,795

music: sunflower dreams – poppin’ party

sunflower dreams!

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

you were born to be on stage

tenma remembered thinking that the first time he saw you singing into that off mic, absolutely living out your idol dreams in that music room with a guitar much too big for your tiny kid self

you and tenma were about eight years old, and that was the first time he had a crush on anyone before

it was elementary. tenma was already recognized country wide, he was the it child star of the decade, his fame catapulted him to great success early on with two acting parents in the entertainment business

but, why didn’t he have friends, then?

everyone he talked to as a child suddenly didn’t look at him the next day. every time tenma asked his parents, it was always the same answer: “they’ll do nothing for your career, focus on acting”

so when he found you sneaking into the music classroom and stealing one of the teacher’s guitars to use, strumming even if you didn’t know any notes, tenma hid behind the door as he listened

you had a voice made for stardom. you sang like you were performing for a stadium of thousands of fans, you did it confidently as if you’ve been in the industry for years, and you jumped around like this was the last song of your life

you loved music, and before you knew it, tenma became your first and biggest fan. he arrived at the same time everyday after school to sit outside the music practice room and hear you sing again

eight–year–old tenma didn’t know why he lied to his parents, claiming he was just catching up on schoolwork due to his acting career. his grades didn’t change, but it didn’t matter when he got to hide in the corner of the corridor and push his short frame to the ledge of the window to see you playing the guitar

one day, tenma was back again in his usual spot, standing on his tippy–toes to peek into the classroom as always, knowing he was in for a show for the next hour or so before his driver picked him up

it was supposed to be another regular one–man concert all for himself, where he applauded silently for the aspiring musician. but, as you were singing a song you had practiced for a while now, your eyes met his mid–strum of the guitar

you stumbled on your notes and fell silent, eyes wide at the bright orange hair that disappeared behind the wall instantly. before you could react, you heard the squeak of sneakers against the floor as a blur of the school uniform ran past the door and away into the hall

you recognized that face immediately, who wouldn’t? sumeragi tenma was the most popular elementary student ever in the district despite always being alone. you contemplatively stared at the spot where tenma hid, wondering how long he had always been there.

it was the next day and tenma was hesitant, nervousness taking over as his face flushed from yesterday’s events. he was so careless, he couldn’t believe he let himself be discovered like that! tenma rubbed his face, groaning with the stress of an adult as he stood at the entrance of the music hallway

it’s not like he could go anywhere else without getting in trouble, so here he was, returning to visit the school’s secret singer because he wanted to hear the music. but, he seemed like a stalker! tenma swore he just wanted to hear guitar (he pretended like you weren’t his first crush)

before tenma could become chicken and run away from the confrontation, he heard a few familiar notes before you began singing. the recognition kicked in as tenma creeped closer, poking his head around the open door frame with a curious look as you stood dancing around in the middle of the room, already smiling at him

you were singing the ost of the latest drama he was in!

did you learn it just for him? tenma was about to ask, but you ran over, not letting him get away this time as you tossed him a fake mic (which he embarrassingly almost didn’t catch)

were you asking for a duet? your guitar skills had gotten much better over time, in fact, little tenma couldn’t tell the difference between you and the professional who originally played it! tenma felt himself get into the music as you dragged him to the center, giving him an opening to join

tenma took it, and before you two knew it, there was no need to exchange any words as you two sang your heart out without any care in the world to the pop ost

for once in his life, tenma felt like this was what it was like having a friend! he always had those on screen, but this felt real. like, these were the childhood memories he always had to act out for the camera, just yelling lyrics loudly surrounded by instruments and a friend who learned his ost just to make him happy!

out of breath, tenma panted as you played the final notes, letting it hang in the air as the incoming warm air entered through the open windows. you two’s shadows struck final idol poses, like you were actually on stage

a moment of silence passed before you grinned, yelling a celebratory “yes!” as you held your hand out for a high five. tenma just weakly put his palm against yours, trying not to blush from the contact (was this what it was like, holding your hand?)

“dude, we need to start a band!” you exclaimed, not even looking tired as tenma wiped the sweat from his forehead with a grimance. maybe not the right decision if he didn’t have the stamina to be a chart–topping singer

“i... i don’t play any instruments—” tenma started shyly, wringing his hands together before you shook your head rapidly, putting your hands on your hips with an exasperated expression

“but we’re friends!” you insisted, not giving him time to answer as you threw him another water bottle (you had brought an extra, hoping tenma would come by again)

tenma stared at you, shocked as he gripped the water bottle between his small hands. friends? already? was... was this tenma’s first real friend? and his first band, apparently?

you rearranged your items, setting up your music sheets as you quickly glanced over the notes. you could sight read, and you learned it all by yourself, you were so talented, but you wanted to be friends with him?

when you lifted your head with a bright grin, passion within your eyes for music, tenma nodded with determination as he tightened his grip on the bottle. it was his first gift from his first friend

“yeah, we’re friends! let’s do it!” tenma said, watching as you cheered again and confidently high–fiving you this time (last second, you switched your hand to a fist and called it a ‘turkey’. whatever that was)

and that, was the start of the two–man duo band as tenma made his first friend (and crush)

you two grew up together, with tenma prospering in his fame as a multitalented child prodigy

despite his hard–earned popularity as an actor, tenma was never ever late to band practice! you two came to the unlocked music room every day after school, with props as microphones and animatedly daydreaming about stage costumes and the feeling of the lights upon your glowing faces

“do you ever dream about being on stage, ten?” you’d ask, gazing out at the sunset as you fiddled around with the drumsticks, attempting to pick up the beat as your eyes flickered from the orange sky to the worn down drums. tenma would just shrug, laying on the floor after a particularly hard song as he lazily strummed your favorite guitar

(this explained the callouses on your fingers despite being so young, you had rougher hands than him)

“i don’t know, i’m already on t.v.” tenma would justify, just staring at the ceiling as he’d watch the shadows of the trees outside against the surface. these were the moments he remembered the most, where you two took a break from the music and talked endlessly until it was time to go home

“i mean, it’s all scripted, right?” you asked, satisfied as you put your sticks down after finally acing that one technique you struggled with. tenma unstrapped the guitar and rolled to his side, propping his head up with his arm as he considered your question

“yeah... i guess it is.” tenma figured, about to go back to play with the strings before you landed next to him, facing him in the same position as you smiled

you always had that smile whenever you ranted about your ‘big break’, your rise to stardom and dreams to be the #1 global singer in the world (tenma never brought you down to earth, not even for a second)

“on t.v., you can just edit it out, right? but on stage, it’s all live. if i make a mistake, everyone knows.” you furrowed your eyebrows, looking too serious for a young child as you looked past him, as if you were imagining what could go wrong

before tenma could snap you out of it, your eyes landed back on him and you giggled, flopping onto your back as you put your arms across your chest

“that’s what’s so exciting about the stage, ten. every time i go out there, i’m always gonna do my best! i’m gonna be the best performer on the whole entire planet!” you suddenly jumped up, acting out your idol persona as you faked holding a mic, striking your iconic pose you had perfected over time

(tenma just stared up at you, wondering why you shined so much in the light. he wanted to see you under stage lights, though. if you glowed this much now, you would be blinding in front of a crowd)

“and you’ll be with me!” you pointed your invisible mic at tenma as he smiled, not considering any other future as he pushed himself up with his own mic

“i’ll be on stage with you forever!” tenma guarenteed, performing your complex secret handshake as you two made explosion sounds at the end, pretending to fall back from the boom

“come on, let’s practice for when our first show comes!” you ended break time as you took your guitar back. tenma kicked back on the keyboard, not knowing a thing about it but wanting to try his best for you

as you two rocked on, tenma knew you two had were beyond any battle of the bands competition. you two were unstoppable, you two would sell out arenas and pose for the papparazzi together, you two would perform together!

or at least, that’s what tenma thought before one day, his parents came to pick him up

when his famous, high–standard, professional parents arrived to surprise him, they didn’t expect to search the building with a teacher who had no idea she was tutoring him. when they heard the loud singing, all they had to do was coldly glare at their son to make tenma quiet down and obediently follow them to the car

“sumeragi tenma, we raised you better than this. we’ve given you the perfect life, how could you lie to us?!” tenma’s mother cursed, grabbing his hair once they were out of sight of any witnesses. tenma flinched as his parents dragged him to the car, looking back to see you had ran to the entrance with wide eyes

“wait!” you insisted, catching up with his parents with a stubborn expression, holding onto tenma’s blazer sleeve and staring tenma’s father right in his strict face (tenma wished he was as brave and cool as you)

“get off, kid.” tenma’s father spat out, trying to shake you off as tenma kept his head down, attempting not to cry as he bunched his hands into fists. he pretended like this was just some scene, he had to keep his emotions in check behind a mask. he was raised to act like the best son

“no! tenma’s my friend!” you declared and tenma whipped his head up, staring at you with a sad smile as his father scoffed, prying your tight fingers off tenma’s school uniform as you stumbled back. when you hit the ground and sat up, tenma almost escaped his parents’ clutches as he called your name, being shoved into the backseat against his will

“tenma’s not friends with nobodies.” tenma’s father laughed maliciously, slamming the door closed as the family car swerved out of the parking lot

as you put your hand down from blocking the dust, you helplessly watched as tenma performed his end of the secret handshake as he faded into the distance. you stood back up, brushed down your uniform, and made your way back to the music room with tears in your eyes

you were going to be the best lead singer in the world, and tenma was going to sit front row for every show. tenma was gonna be your friend forever

(even if he mysteriously transferred schools the next day)

you began auditions to be involved in the entertainment industry as well

you wanted to be famous just like tenma, if you had become as popular and talented, maybe his parents would let you keep seeing him

entering middle school, you dedicated all your time to improving as an artist outside of your academic studies and transforming the abandoned elementary music room into your practice area

you practiced everyday until your throat was sore, you snuck into the local theatre stage and pretended like it was your concert, you tried to master every instrument that was available to you (though, you never forgot about your original guitar) just to become famous

it wasn’t until you gained your second fan, that your band took off

it was midway through middle school, after countless failed auditions for entertainment companies, that you turned and saw someone hiding in the same spot tenma claimed all those years ago. you blinked, but instead of an orange hue, you found a future bandmate who was just as enthusiastic about music as you

slowly but surely, your band became special to five students as their bond strengthened the core of your group: NATSU-mmer!

(the name flowed naturally since your group’s energetic, poppy, bright music became your image and was a happiness boost for anyone who listened)

although you guys weren’t experienced, your crazy energy and unbreakable friendship sold you to the public as your online covers and self–composed tracks became viral hits over time

you were on guitar and vocals with the support of more guitar, drums, keyboard, and tambourine! as you five practiced until the end of the day, your dedication and passion to music shined as you became famous as the lead singer of NATSU-mmer!

as years passed, you kept tabs on tenma every now and then. you would binge every show he was on, even if he had a minor background role, and couldn’t believe this was the same boy who sang proudly in the afternoon sun like it was a spotlight

tenma was older now, but he still had the same arrogant smirk he wore when he got competitive about beating other bands or who could shriek the highest note. he still had the same orange hair you noticed that one day from behind the window and he still acted like he was the best (maybe, because he was to you)

although you always answered his name when asked who your favorite actor was, you never told anyone your history with him. it felt almost too personal to say anything, when your friendship with him was still close to your heart and would always be associated with those practices after school

you respected his privacy and let him be, knowing damn well you wouldn’t have made it this far without his absence pushing you to be the best possible

(when asked about why you began singing and becoming the leader of your band, you never mentioned the truth: how you wanted to become famous to be tenma’s friend again)

although you two were both now in the entertainment industry, you never reached out to him again because it felt like acting and music was in two different worlds. as tenma dominated the billboards and popularity ratings in magazines, you strummed your guitar and sang with all your heart to your fanbase on stage

you forgot about the promise you had with tenma, until it was time

NATSU-mmer was having its first stadium show as an anniversary gift to the fans, selling out within minutes as you were processing the news. your bandmates screamed around you, jumping up and down as they loudly discussed how this was an once–in–a–lifetime opportunity

you smiled, but you had a distant look in your eyes. you were remembering tenma, even though he hadn’t crossed your mind in months, with the pressure and business of rehearsals and concerts and all that

it was nearing summer, you two were on break again after tenma’s voice cracked from a tune. you did your best not to laugh as you two sat on the desks, staring out at the sunset nearing in silence, just the sound of you two’s slightly heavy breathing from the work out

“do you think we’ll ever become big, ten?” you asked innocently, always talking about your dreams together as if tenma wasn’t a renowned actor already. tenma didn’t answer right away, resting his face against the window pane on his folded arms as he blew a strand of hair out of his face

“i don’t know, my parents want me to become a famous actor.” tenma sighed and you laughed, nudging him slightly with your elbow

“you’re already famous, ten! that’s why i call you ten, because you’re a 10/10 in every review!” you brought up again as tenma laughed with you, finding the whole situation funny for no reason

“yeah, but an even bigger actor. i’m gonna win best lead actor in every country.” tenma huffed, puffing his chest out like he was those big hotshot teen “heart–throb” actors while flexing his non–existent muscles

“and i’m gonna win every music award show trophy!” you added and tenma nodded, like he was so sure these were your fates. like nothing could change, like it was a matter of fact

“you will...” tenma trailed off, suddenly thinking about something. before you could ask, he fully turned his body towards you as he grinned, holding his pinky out

“but really, once you get that stadium, imma be front row and center!” tenma promised and you looped your finger around his, believing in him 100%

“no, you’ll be backstage! or better yet, on stage with me!” you fantasized as you two dreamily imagined it, shaking your pinkies before letting go with a secret promise you could never break

“we should spit shake.” tenma spat in his hand as you shrieked, ranting about how gross he was as he chased after you like every annoying little boy did. your laughter faded in your memory as you remembered the promise you and tenma made that day

“ten, it’s my first stadium show.” you whispered under your breath, not noticing the sunset outside the practice room

tenma sometimes wondered what would’ve happened if he ended up in a band with you. by no means was he idol material, but at night, he liked to lay down and stare at the ceiling, in the same position whenever he needed to cool down after practice

he had forgotten your name at this point, overwhelmed and exhausted from his acting career and lack of childhood that he had to skip over. from the scarce memories of his youth, all he could distinguish between the blurs was your face grinning happily at him as you jumped in the air with your guitar

(and something about how rough your hands were against his own)

all tenma knew was that he wanted to be on stage with you, and his younger self would’ve done anything to do so

tenma continued acting, forgetting all about his dream to be in a two–man band with you and kept his roles to the camera, skyrocketing into fame faster than anyone before him and staying in the limelight

in a way, both of you had accomplished your dream, just not together

tenma had joined mankai company, to the shock of every media outlet ever. the starlet had overcome his fear of making mistakes, he remembered clearly before he went onto the theatre stage for water me! the first time, a young voice echoed in his ears

“that’s what’s so exciting about the stage, ten. every time i go out there, i’m always gonna do my best! i’m gonna be the best performer on the whole entire planet!”

tenma remembered seeing your face clearly for the first time in a while, remembering every detail of your childhood self as he bunched his two hands into fists, staring at the spotlight upon the stage with the same determination he had when you two became friends

“i’m going to do my best.” tenma said and the rest was left on the stage until closing night

adjusting to mankai was a process. growing up with no true friends, both in school and in the entertainment industry, had surprisingly taken a toll on his behavior without him realizing it. to mankai, he wasn’t the famous star tenma, he was just the really not–put–together teen who wanted to take care of his bonsai in peace

so this is what having friends is like, tenma once thought as he glanced upon the entourage. it was the last time he truly remembered your friendship before he moved on, hoping one day he’d see you someday again

it wasn’t until he happened upon kazunari and misumi’s hanging out session that he was struck with memory of your name

the two were excitedly talking to one another, kazunari rapidly tapping on his phone screen and holding it up to misumi’s attentive face. tenma was about to walk away from the everyday meet–up before kazunari hyped up some group, letting a music video blast from his speaker

over the exaggerated “wow~ that’s a triangle!”, tenma stopped dead in his tracks as he heard a strong, enthusiastic voice belt out a familiar lyric. tenma jumped over to kazunari on the sofa, grabbing both his shoulders with desperation. misumi even paused the video to stare at tenma with shock

“who’s singing this?!” tenma rushed out as kazunari just grinned, finding nothing wrong with being trampled by his troupe leader

“ah! tenten~ are you interested, too?! it’s NATSU-mmer, i was thinking to ask them to sing our next play theme!” kazunari joked before misumi tugged him out of tenma’s grip. as the two went back to watching, tenma repeated the band name multiple times before running to his room and slamming the door

“what the hell do you—” yuki started, looking up from his sewing machine before tenma threw himself onto his bed, fumbling for his phone as he began typing something. tenma paused, zooming in on a group photo before dropping his phone

“THAT’S MY FRIEND!” tenma yelled, swiping through the photos as he finally recognized your name. it was you, the guitarist soloist back in elementary who was his first friend. you had done it, you actually became a full blown band leader who was rising in popularity. he was right in not questioning your dreams

yuki leaned his chair back to sneak a glance at the screen, furrowing his eyebrows as he stared at tenma with disbelief

saying your name, yuki scoffed as he crossed his arms, “the lead vocal of NATSU-mmer, one of the most popular bands in japan right now, is your friend? yeah, right.”

tenma furiously shook his head, sitting up and launching into the full story he didn’t even know he remembered about how you were his bandmate in elementary. yuki barely listened, but got the gist of the tale as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh

“you’re telling me... you grew up with NATSU-mmer’s powerhouse vocalist... and you didn’t even know?!”

tenma sheepishly kicked at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward laugh

“maybe?”

(tenma yelped when yuki threw a pillow at his dumb face with perfect aim)

turns out, everyone in mankai had either known of NATSU-mmer or were huge fans, there was no in between. most of the high schoolers actively followed your band account across multiple platforms, gushing about your performances and how you were a fresh group that came from nothing

the university students knew an album or two, the adults mainly had an idea, and matsukawa even sang along to their songs this entire time! tenma was the last person to find out who your group even was (he was out of the loop all the time)

now that he knew, he was becoming aware of how prominent you had always been in his life. yuki took fashion inspiration from your stage outfits for the plays (they were as spectacular as he remembered imagining them), kazunari kept repeating your title tracks during breaks at practice to keep the mood up (tenma stopped telling him to turn it off), muku’s favorite anime he watched at night had an ost sang by you (tenma listened to it every night through the walls), misumi even pointed out the five people in your band formed a triangle when you all did a group photo (tenma guessed he was onto something, he noticed you were always at the center)

it was like you were still his friend, after all this time, still apart of his life despite the distance

because of this, tenma remained your biggest fan of all time. at first, he intended to follow your music casually, but after going down a rabbit hole of videos (such as interviews, streamed concerts/events, even fan–edited videos of your cute/funny moments or “meet NATSU-mmer” style of “crack edits”), tenma would consider himself a proud “sunflower”

(it was ironic that was your fanbase’s name, because he called you that after you got your first official guitar and you two painted sunflowers on the surface. in a way, he stayed in your life too, since you were both each other’s sunflower and sunshine)

tenma even made a stan twitter account for you! he made it with no intention to dm other sunflowers, but he turned on notifications for your band’s sns and replied to your posts with encouraging messages and reminders to take care of yourself

(he became known in the fandom as “ten”, the sunflower who was practically in love with you) (his icon was always you)

(tenma even bought merch with his own money. yes, he had a jersey with your birth year and last name, tenma admitted from his “early stan” days) (his home screen was a hq fansite picture of you holding a microphone towards the camera, as if you were still inviting him to sing along after all these years)

(he also somehow got roped into downloading your beat rhythm game, knowing you probably crushed all the levels as he struggled with beginner’s) (he got distracted by your voice singing in the background)

(one time, you had a live ig q&a and when you answered his question by saying his username “summerten”, he nearly fell over from excitement) (yuki had to kick him to shut tenma up with his internal freak–out)

tenma’s favorite thing to do as a stan was to watch your performances as if he was there. he had bought your group’s lightstick (a sunflower with spinning petals, how cute!), shaking it in front of his laptop screen and posting pictures with the “TT” sad emoticon

(summerten: TT just want to go to a concert so bad ~ 14 likes)

you were the same as you were before back in elementary. you still danced and sang with all the energy in the world, with uncontainable excitement to be doing what you love and your raw honest personality with your fans was admirable. you were open and the perfect idol since you were so passionate and uplifting with your self–produced/written music

you took the stage by storm, acting like it was your own and wildly playing your guitar like it was your last. you still had the same electric smile and sunny happiness, of course you had become famous for being in a band, you were born to be a star

present day, tenma was practicing his lines with the rest of the summer troupe before his phone buzzed in his pocket, making him automatically check it as summer snickered about his obsession with NATSU-mmer (only yuki really knew why as he refused to tell anybody else, just claiming it was teenage boy hormones)

tenma’s face paled and he looked like he was about to pass out. before anyone could ask, tenma sprinted out of the practice room with an urgent stride to his steps

everyone automatically followed him, yelling about how practice wasn’t over as tenma stumbled to his desk, opening his laptop with such determination it was admirable how one–minded he truly was

“why did you run like someone died?!” yuki whacked him over the head but tenma didn’t react, just logged into a ticketing website with intensity

“someone will die if i don’t get tickets to NATSU-mmer’s second anniversary stadium concert!” tenma insisted, memorizing what he was supposed to do as he sat down, biting his nails as he stared at his spot in the queue. oh god

understandably so, no one understood why tenma had to go to the concert so bad (“why doesn’t he just use his connections to get tickets?” “he really loves NATSU-mmer, huh...” “they do form a triangle!” “shut up”). yet, they resigned themselves to this predicament and let tenma end practice early, knowing pulling him away from his screen would make things way worse

sitting around him, the summer troupe kept light conversation as tenma tapped his foot against the floorboards, willing himself to stare straight ahead to react the fastest

i have to keep my promise, tenma thought as he impulsively bought five tickets without warning, all front row and didn’t wince at his bank balance

tenma promised he’d see you front row at your first stadium concert, and on god, he was going to keep it

when the troupe cheered and rambunctiously discussed tenma’s generousity to take them to the concert with him, yuki stood in the back with his arms crossed and eyes watching tenma carefully

“you hack... you still like them, don’t you?” yuki mumbled, not catching anyone’s attention. it didn’t take a genius to piece together the puzzle, he knew you were much more than just tenma’s first childhood friend, but he didn’t say anything else as tenma breathed a sigh of relief at the mercy of the ticket gods

(when tenma tweeted how he was going to the stadium show, his mutuals showered him in congratulations and your official account even liked it) (he keyboard–smashed like the fanboy he was)

while you were preparing for your opening stadium event for the first time in your professional career, tenma was planning the entire trip as best as he could

(yuki felt so bad for him and his very obvious crush that he made him a sunflower headband for the concert, it was so nice tenma almost went in for a hug before yuki smacked him)

the night of the stadium concert, you were sitting backstage dressed in your group’s common bright fun colors as you fiddled with your guitar, playing a tune you hadn’t remembered until recently. you thought of a little boy with orange hair and purple eyes as you stared off into the distance, just nonchalantly playing the song you two had wrote together back then

as you kept strumming, you imagined him sitting front row, cheering you on

(maybe, you shouldn’t have stalked his official sns accounts before going to sleep last night)

you knew it was last second. but for some reason, even if he never heard it, you had to honor your relationship with tenma

in a way, you would have never been here without his friendship, and you wanted to thank him even if he wouldn’t be there

it took a lot of convincing for your solo stage to be moved to last with no backing track whatsoever (your manager was suspicious of what you had up your sleeve, but you promised it wouldn’t hurt your group’s image), but you did it!

your group pestered you obnoxiously about the change, their sibling–esque bond with you as their “parent” making you laugh as you played it off like it was no big deal.

(as you opened a guitar case you hadn’t brought along in a long time, you smiled down at the worn sunflower–painted guitar)

this was your first stadium show and you could only dream of tenma being right beside you

summer troupe arrived at the stadium hours early, but there was already a long line with campers filling the streets (“why are people sleeping outside just to see some cute people?!” “stan culture, man...”)

tenma was excited in line, not even bothered by the length of the wait as he rambled about your group discography to the boys, subconsciously waving around his sign as he pushed up his sunglasses

(how no one recognized his bright orange hair was beyond anyone’s common sense)

when the group made it past security with a few mishaps (muku making himself look like he was highly suspicious by stuttering and kazunari having to come in to save the day with his social media presence) (misumi almost stripping down for no apparent reason) (yuki actually walked like a normal person with nothing to hide), tenma practically ran to his seat like he was a child again

“everyone say NATSU!” kazunari held his phone up for a group selfie, the five making a triangle as he posted it to his story, tagging it with the group hashtag and the location as always

your band member was scrolling through the hashtag with the group account, showing everyone fan pictures and providing over–the–top commentary, as you all sat in a circle waiting for the show to begin

“oh~ it’s that kazu guy! he usually posts stories with our songs!” your band member said, swiping to their most recent story and your eyes widened

was that a shock of orange hair?

you couldn’t have missed it. that had to be tenma, no other fan would just show up with sunglasses front row like he promised before

did he remember you? before you could react, everyone moved onto the next fan and complimented them endlessly, your mind still stuck on that orange hair

it couldn’t have been... but yet, you smiled

at least you could imagine singing to someone for your stage at the end

when the concert began with a strum of your guitar, tenma let out the most excited scream of all time as his voice was drowned out by the rest of the fans. summer troupe side–eyed him but ignored his frantic lightstick waving as they watched the five members of NATSU–mmer rise from the stage in their iconic poses (yours was the same from childhood)

“who’s ready to start this summer off right?!” you shouted into your mic, your voice vibrating the open stadium as the fans cheered in response. tenma was quiet this time, staring up at you with such admiration yuki had to shove him out of it (“don’t be so dumb right now, enjoy the show!” “shut up, i wasn’t staring!” “i didn’t say you were...”)

you guys opened with your debut song, going back to your humble beginnings in the elementary practice room as everyone danced the night away. everyone online was right; streams could never compare to the real thing. tenma didn’t care about being “cool” for once as he jumped up and down

(kazunari definitely got multiple videos of him singing every song word for word at the top of his lungs like his life depended on it) (there’s also a video of him crying to an emotional ballad song, just full sobbing as muku awkwardly patted his back while worriedly glancing at the camera)

(“it’s so sad...” tenma sniffled as yuki practically shoved his own hands into his mouth, trying not to laugh for once)

the event passed in a flash, your stamina crazy high as you didn’t even seem tired. you looked more alive than ever, especially when you began giving your final speech of the night as NATSU-mmer’s leader

“hi, sunflowers!” you giggled, the fans awww–ing in unison and tenma was staring at you like you were the sun. he was right, you were so bright under the spotlight, it was blinding

“thank you so much for coming to our first stadium show.” you bowed and tenma noticed your hand was shaking around the mic. he was worried, were you okay?

“actually, this is very special to me, not because it’s a stadium, but because you’re all here to share it with me~” you cutely said, laughing when everyone cooed. you kept going, all the attention on you as the background musicians began filing out backstage. murmurs filled the stadium, what was going on?

“but also... i made a promise back then, to my very first fan, band mate, and dear friend of mine, someone i’ll call sunshine for now.” you said and yuki’s head snapped to tenma, who was looking at you with a small smile

“he said he’d be front row when i had my stadium show, and...” you trailed off, turning to the summer’s troupe location as the group members excluding yuki and tenma excitedly talked amongst themselves (“oh my god, does NATSU-mmer recognize us?! let’s invite them to our opening night next month!”)

“he is.” you finished, smiling as the tears you kept in glistened under the light. tenma roughly wiped under his eyes, hoping no one noticed as he made eye contact with you for the first time in years

“this is for sunshine, the first song we ever wrote, called sunflower dreams.”

you stepped up and placed the mic on the stand decorated with vines and yellow petals, swinging your guitar around to the front as tenma recognized its sunflower pattern. he knew both your names was signed behind it

“hide all the feelings in your heart, someday the season will go on and change.” you sang, the whole stadium silent with the single spotlight on you. you stood center, like it was the elementary music room again

tenma held his breath, trying not to sing along to avoid the confused looks of his friends. he knew every word, even though it was unreleased. you two worked on the song so hard, it became the only song you two finished to completion

“as i looked at the sky, it was a faraway dream,” you opened your eyes and looked directly at him, like he was still the same shy kid who hid behind the wall just to hear you sing. for a moment, tenma went back to that time like it was just you two again

“we’ll reach that sky someday.” you smiled before you heard your own voice, remembering something about the promise: “no, you’ll be backstage! or better yet, on stage with me!”

without thinking, you quickly grabbed a microphone left on stage and turned it on, tossing it to tenma who didn’t drop it this time

sunmer troupe exchanged wild glances between each other as you went to their side of the stage, holding your hand out with a shaky smile

“you know the rest, right, ten?” you asked, afraid to move back before tenma nodded, not caring about hiding his identity as security let him through

although there were tens of thousands of people, tenma took your hand and felt like you two were back in school together, just practicing like always

(your hand was smoother, but you still had the same callouses from playing guitar)

you started strumming again and it didn’t take any effort before you two bounced off each other like before, singing sunflower dreams like it was just yesterday as fans made the connection sumeragi tenma was on stage

(“oh my god, tenten!!!” kazunari shrieked, recording despite his full phone storage. muku was sparkling, dreamily calling it a manga moment as misumi said something about you being one of tenma’s three happinesses. yuki just smiled, he knew it)

when you two ended the song with your (not so) secret handshake like no time has passed, you and tenma grinned as you two immediately hugged on stage

“ten, i knew you’d remember.” you whispered, and tenma just smiled even bigger as he ignored the crowd’s volume

“i knew you’d become a famous singer and win every single music award. you were born for the stage.” tenma said, and you were blinding under the spotlight

you two accomplished your dream for your childhood selves this time: performing on stage together

#sumeragi tenma #tenma sumeragi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #tenma x reader #a3! tenma #a3 tenma

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storiesnobodyreads · 5 years

Text

Hard To Be Loved 5

PART FIVE

Characters: Tom Holland x Reader

Story: You are Tom Holland’s girlfriend, afraid of being in the spotlight. Your concerns are proven right when a crazy fan starts stalking and threatening you. Will your relationship with Tom stand, and are you in real danger?

A/N: this is part 5, as promised, on sunday! let me know what you think!! lots of lovee

Warning: curses

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

“Can I say it?” Chris asked, voice higher pitched than usual.

The ones who understood, so mainly the founding Avengers, all sighed in desperation. Clearly, Chris had attempted to do this before. The rest looked around a little confused. Jeremy Renner answered for the sake of the group, “God, Evans, Just get it over with!”

“Alright,” Chris cleared his throat. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, he was Captain America. “Avengers…” he spoke, voice low and deep and serious. “Assemble!”

*****

The meeting with the Avengers passed by awfully quickly. Even though you had in fact met all the wonderful actors plenty of times before and even considered them as more than just acquaintances, it took your breath away to see them all in the same room. Tom was looking around wide-eyed and in awe, seeing his childhood heroes every way he turned. Unfortunately, the atmosphere had been serious and tense.

Because yours and Tom’s reputation was on the line here.

Every one of them had agreed to post something on social media, a picture with either Tom or you or both, making a statement about privacy and respect to this couple.

It triggered you that you didn’t know anything about Rebecca except her first name. You wished that the actors could have tagged her in their posts, unleashing the storm of rage from the fans upon her. Or perhaps it would be the other way around, and you would be burned to the ground for exposing an innocent person to the world of paparazzi. No matter what, it pissed you off that Rebecca was ruining your life and you didn’t even know her last name. She knew everything about you and Tom.

Hours passed and eventually it was actually quite fun. After a while, however, it became time to go back home and have dinner. Lots of hugs and manly embraces were exchanged.

Sebastian Stan held you a little longer as he was hugging you. “Stay strong, kid,” he murmured.

“Man, I’m like the fucking Hulk,” you grumbled in his chest.

Seb’s low laughter made you shake. “Good.” He held you at a distance, rubbing your arms. Suddenly, the smile vanished from his face and his blue eyes sparkled sadly. “I really hope you don’t get your heart broken.”

His words stung.

“Well, I’ll let you know if I do,” you commented, trying to laugh light-heartedly, but truthfully you felt as if you chest was as heavy as the entire fucking world. “I do expect you to bring my chocolate if something goes wrong.”

“Of course,” Seb nodded firmly. “For now, though, let’s believe that everything will be okay. You do have the Avengers on your side, you know.”

You made a face. “I guess that’s kind of cool.”

After that, more encouraging phrases were thrown at you and all your heroes told you to stay strong. It should make you feel more prepared, less frightened, however, the fact they all so seriously cared so much made you only the more concerned that this was massively messed up.

Tom found you when most of the cast was leaving. “Love,” he smiled, smoothly taking your hand. “Everything’s going to be okay. Right?”

“Right.” You couldn’t quite tell whether he was comforting you or you were comforting him.

Robert Downey Junior joined you by your side, wrapping a supportive arm around you. “Well, kids, I’d say this was a success. Now I suggest you two go out for dinner. Or order pizza and watch movie. Have a nice night together. Sound like a plan? Then I can start debating which picture I’m going to post.”

Tom stared at his mentor. “Please don’t post an embarrassing picture of me.”

Robert’s eyes shone mischievously. “I’d never do that, Tom.”

“You’re going to do it, I can tell,” Tom sighed.

“I would never!” Robert exclaimed, hitting his hand against his chest as if he was truly insulted that Tom would dare think such a thing. His face broke into a smile, clapping Tom on the back. “Now get out of here. I’ve seen enough of you two. We’ll all see each other at the Superhero Party in tomorrow, right? Not everyone is going, but I am confident that the youngest members of our team will be there.” He expectantly lifted one eyebrow eyeing you and Tom.

Tom grinned, “Absolutely.”

*****

That evening, everything finally felt kind of fine. Tom had ordered New York pizzas and and had opened up a bottle of red wine. You and Tom were lying on the couch, eating pizza, drinking wine, watching the new Sandra Bullock movie Bird Box. It was a good, cozy night. Tired as you both were, you curled up in each other and enjoyed each other’s warmth. Tom had his arm around you, drawing patterns on your back.

You period had begun the second you had returned from Robert Downey Junior’s house, and although you knew timing couldn’t be worse, you were also infinitely relieved you hadn’t leaked through your pants in front of all the Avengers. Having your period, emotions were at your all-time high and cramps soon became your enemy. Therefore, having Tom softly massage your lower-back and every now and then pressing a loving kiss into your hair, was the best thing you could wish for.

The two of you went to bed early. Tom had filled a special pillow with hot water to keep your uterus heated and lessen the pain. It wasn’t a night of many words. His actions spoke louder than his words anyway. Even though Tom regularly told you he loved you and how beautiful you looked, the main way he showed you how much he truly loved you was by his actions. He knew your period pain was intense the first day and did everything he could to make it easier.

In bed, you curled up into his side. He was cold, perhaps because you were practically a living furnace right now. Softly, you whispered, “Thank you for taking care of me. I know that’s probably not where your mind is at right now. Sorry.”

Tom kissed your temple. “Are you kidding? You’re the most important person in my life. And it’s not your fault that periods exist.”

“That’s true, I guess,” you murmured, appreciating the gentle way Tom was stroking your hair, fingers tracing over your sensitive skin. “I love you, Thomas. Very much so.”

You cradled your head on his chest, listening to his breathing. His steady rhythm slowly carried you to sleep, forgetting the pain in your back and belly.

Very much so: that was your thing. The first time Tom had told you he loved you, he’d said it rather fast and hesitantly, too scared of your reaction. Um-I-um-love-you-Y/N, he’d brought out. You’d apologised: sorry, didn’t catch that, babe. He’d taken a deep breath, fixing his sleeves nervously. I. Love. You. You’d kind of heard him the first time around, but didn’t mean to be the idiot who misunderstood such an important sentence. Your cheeks were redder than tomatoes, heart racing in your chest. Really? Tom had nodded. Very much so.

Tom’s chuckle rumbled underneath you. “I love you too,” he yawned. “Very much so.”

*****

The next morning, you didn’t feel much better. Cramps and nightmares about Rebecca had kept you awake. You remembered how Rebecca had texted you to break up with Tom and it would all be over--especially after how sweet he had been to you, this simply wasn’t an option. You should have broken up with him, of course. For the sake of his career. For the sake of Spider-Man and the millions of people who loved the character.

Tom was no longer in bed, which surprised you for a second, before you spotted the time and saw it was literally one o’clock in the afternoon. You’d woken up multiple times, but since your day had no agenda, you had decided to continue sleeping.

You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and scanned Rebeca’s last text message from yesterday: I saw the police in your home. Don’t think it’ll be easy to catch me. You know nothing about me except my first name, and I’ll destroy this phone immediately. You keep underestimating me, you whore. Stop thinking you’re so much better than me, or this will end very badly for you. Break up with Tom now, and I might leave you alone.

Letting out a deep sigh, you rolled over to take up the entire bed. It hardly felt real to you anymore. You’d experienced too many emotions the past couple of days; you were exhausted. You considered going back to sleep despite knowing it was 1 P.M., when the delicious smell of bacon and eggs hit you. Tom must be cooking breakfast, or lunch, for the two of you.

Cute.

Tom was fucking cute.

The bubble that exploded in your chest drove you to get out of bed, pull on a sweater from Tom and your sweatpants and Tom’s happy socks. Sauntering into the kitchen, you found Tom was wearing a similar outfit. He was busy with the bacon and didn’t hear you come in. You stood leaning against the wall for a bit, admiring him for who he was.

Finally, he did turn around. Seeing you, his face lit up. “Hey lo--”

You attacked his with a hug, firmly wrapping your arms around his neck. “Good morning, you wonderful human being. I’m super hungry.”

Tom was laughing. “Yeah, you probably should be after sleeping fourteen hours.”

You shrugged, letting go of him. “I expected to be going into hibernation, so really this is not so bad.”

Tom studied you. “You look like you could use more sleep, actually.”

“Gee, thanks, babe.”

“I’m sure you’re still just as beautiful on the inside,” Tom smirked teasingly, pulling you closer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hummed, “I’m looking so flawless right now. Like damn, even I would date me.”

“Can’t think of a single reason why anyone wouldn’t want to date you,” Tom agreed with a smile.

The two of you had lunch together. The bacon was perfect and the scrambled eggs were just how you liked them. After eating, despite it being perfect, you were struck with an after dinner dip. You found yourself reluctantly yawning.

Tom eyed you suspiciously. “How can you still be tired? I swear if you’re going back to bed, I’m going to punch myself in the face.”

“Don’t do that,” you smirked, “Not in that face. I like that face.” You changed the subject, aware that you most definitely were going back to bed within a couple of minutes. “What are your plans for this afternoon?”

“I’m meeting Haz to go to the gym,” Tom told you excitedly. “And then I’ll go to the supermarket ‘cause we don’t have any food for tonight. So I’ll be back at like five.”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Your plans?”

You shrugged and flashed a mischievous smile. “I’m going to sleep,” you answered truthfully. “I’m tired as hell. But then I’ll have enough energy for the Superhero Party tonight.”

Tom tilted his head. “Okay, fair enough. I do need you to be awake tonight.” The unsaid meaning of that sentence lingered in the air: because what if Rebecca might do something?

“I’ll be so awake, you won’t even know what’s happening to you,” you promised. “But for now, I’m going to bed.” You wiggled your brows. “Join me?”

Tom was on his feet faster than you could say please.

*****

Tom was gone when you woke up. You guessed he’d gone to the gym after you had fallen asleep in his arms. A fluffy blanket was wrapped around you burrito-style, and by your head you found your favourite book and hot chocolate with marshmallows that had unfortunately cooled, but the idea was sweet. You wanted to see if he’d sent you a message, but your phone was out of your reach and you didn’t want to ruin his carefully crafted burrito. Therefore, you stayed in your position for quite some time, warm and comfy, thinking about how adorable Tom really was.

Tom came back home a little later than he had promised, around 5:30 P.M., carrying three bags filled with food. Face white. Eyes empty.

You tried to kiss him hello but he sort of dodged your gesture with a swirl and ended up patting you on the shoulder politely.

Huh?

Something was wrong. You felt it immediately. What had happened? Had you done something wrong? This morning he’d been warm and fluffy, and now it was the complete polar opposite.

You cooked together, and you attempted to quip back and forth, joking around like the two of you usually did, but Tom was unusually quiet. His responses were dialled back to: “Uh-huh.” and “Yeah.” Which made it hard to have a conversation.

“How is Haz?” you asked.

“Fine.”

“How was the gym?” you asked.

“Fine.”

“Yeah, what’d you train?” you asked.

“Just the regular.”

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

“Ya.”

“Sure?” you asked.

“Ya.”

Dinner was made and smelt pretty good. You set the table and was thinking so hard your brain was whirring, spinning, until anxiety was crippling you. Anxiety was always quick to come to you when you were on your period, and also when you were being threatened by a psychopath named Rebecca. You and Tom sat down at the kitchen table, and you got nervous simply by the fact Tom refused to look you in the eye.

You watched Tom take a deep breath. “Y/N,” Tom said.

Oh, god. Just from the way he said your name, the light quiver in his undertone, you could tell this was going to be a serious conversation. You looked at him, cocking up one brow.

He swallowed thickly. “I was thinking...”

“That’s never a good sign,” you murmured sarcastically.

Tom blurted out his thoughts before he could change his mind. “Maybe you shouldn’t come to the Superhero Party. I mean, it’s going to be lots of people, from Marvel and DC and really anyone who has anything to do with superheroes. There’s going to be so much media attention and interviewers and paparazzi. I just... with everything that’s been going on, I don’t want you to be a victim to that. It might trigger you, you know?”

You frowned. You didn’t know whether to feel heartbroken that Tom didn’t want you by his side, or to deem it sort of sweet that he intended to protect you. “Tom, that’s very... thoughtful of you,” you brought out, blinking heavily, still unsure of how to respond. “But I... I want to support you. We can’t really let Rebecca have that kind of impact on our lives. She’s just one girl. She can’t keep us away from the things we’d usually do.”

You didn’t understand the look on tom’s face: the glimpses of panic in his brown eyes, combined with misplaced determination. “Well, love, that’s true for our personal lives,” he argued with a growl. “But this is just too public. Too much media. I don’t think it’d be a good idea.”

Something in his eyes made you straighten your back, an uncomfortably chill running down your spine. “Is this a discussion, Tom, or have you already made your decision?”

A hard glare passed over Tom’s expression. “I think it’s the best decision for you not to come, yeah.”

You could feel yourself shrink under Tom’s gaze. It was highly unlike him to portray this dominant character and act as if you were his subordinate, his obedient wife. He was never like this. He was always kind and happy and bubbly and ready to communicate and converse to find the best solution for both of you. It was so badly out of character that a piece of your soul crumbled. Just for a bit, you couldn’t recognise the man sitting opposite you.

You tried to swallow your tears away, feeling them burn dangerously close to the surface. Goddamn, you hadn’t been able to stop crying since Rebecca entered your lives. “Oh. Okay. Whatever you want, I guess.”

Tom’s jaw tensed. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Tom didn’t say anything else. He reached out as if he intended to hold you, comfort you, but halfway through the gesture he seemed to change his mind and pulled back.

What a lack of love.

You felt painfully empty, gaping hole in your chest, making every heartbeat ache through your whole body. This was the end then. This was the end of your healthy, loving relationship, wasn’t it?

The two of you finished your plates in silence. Despite having lost your appetite, you shoved the food down your throat to leave the table as soon as possible. As soon as your plate was empty, you rose to your feet. “You should get dressed, then. I’ll clean this.”

Tom offered, “I can help--”

“You should get dressed, Tom,” you repeated.

Tom moved up, now matching your height. You refused to cry. You weren’t going to show him that you were stupidly girly enough to start crying over the fact he didn’t want you to come to the Superhero Party. Any other day, you wouldn’t have cared and wished him all the fun in the world. But now, it felt like a statement. “Y/N,” he tried to say.

“No, I think you’ve made your point,” you interrupted. “Look, Tom, I totally get it. I understand you. But I was looking forward to going to this party together. It just hurts a little, is all.”

Tom stared at you, shoulders hanging, eyes glistening. His cold determination vanished like snow in the sun. “I’m sorry,” he brought out.

“It’s fine,” you dismissed your own pain like it was nothing. “You should get dressed for real. I need a little time to myself right now.” You knew very well that if this conversation was going to last any longer, you wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears.

“I’m sorry,” said Tom again.

But actions speak louder than words.

*****

Tom got dressed. Suit and tie, just like the Infinity War premiere though slightly less formal. Whelms of perfume coming of him, he smelt fresh and ready to conquer the universe.

From the couch, you gave him a small smile. “You look handsome,” you commented flatly.

“Thanks,” he murmured unenthusiastically. “Have a good night, love.” He didn’t look you in the eye. Didn’t kiss you good night.

What the fuck was wrong?

“You too,” you whispered quietly, watching as he swirled around and marched out the door of your apartment that now suddenly felt chilly and abandoned. The front door slammed shut loudly. You flinched. And then Tom was gone. Just like that.

*****

You had ordered pizza and was drinking red wine, lying on the couch, watching Brooklyn 99 on Netflix. Any other day, it would have been a perfect night. Last night it had been a perfect night--but that had been with Tom. Everything was better with Tom.

It didn’t help that you were on your period and in pain and tired and stressed and emotions were cruel.

Your phone was buzzing continuously but you weren’t very interested, convinced that it was Tom texting you. Or perhaps you were only hoping it was Tom, and you didn’t want to be disappointed again.

After a solid hour, and three Brooklyn 99 episodes later, you finally decided to check your phone.

Well, it wasn’t Tom.

Hundreds of messages from friends and family and, strangely enough, Tom’s colleagues. The amount of attention you got was weird. You were used to seeing Tom’s phone blow up like this but not yours. “If this is because of Rebecca, I swear to god...” you whispered to yourself, panic clouding your judgement.

What if something was wrong with Tom? What if she’d hurt him as punishment for you not responding to her text message?

Harrison, Zendaya, Laura, Jacob, your good friends from high school, even Sam, Harry and Paddy, Robert Downey Junior, Sebastian Stan, Chris Evans and so many more had called you and texted you. You were confused, because at least half of those people should be at the Superhero Party and shouldn’t be focused on you.

First, you opened Harrison’s messages.

Harrison: Y/N, where r u?

Harrison: Tom didn’t say where you wereeee so text back plz

Harrison: Lol don’t think you’re here, why not??

Harrison: Ummmm I don’t mean to mess up your relationship and all, but I’m your friend too, and Tom is here with another girl?

Harrison: PleASe don’t say you broke up

Harrison: REPLY TO ME Y/N PLEASE

Harrison: Who is this girl????? Tom is ignoring me what the fuck

Harrison had sent a photograph, secretly taken from the back of the room and dramatically zoomed in to show Tom in his suit, side by side with a red-headed girl. Rebecca. It was actual fucking Rebecca. You couldn’t quite see Tom’s face, but Rebecca’s face was clearly visible: widely laughing, having the time of her life.

“What the fuck, Tom?” you brought out. Your heart skipped a beat, the earth tilting as you looked at the picture, its meaning boring through your chest like a sword. The end of the world would have hurt less than this.

So this was how Tom Holland betrayed you.

*****

don’t forget to comment and let me know what you think!!

tags:

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magicalcreeks · 6 years

Text

Cargo Car Confessions

Day 1: October 15 -First Time-

Summary: When Kenny ditches his bad date he relies on Stan and weed to make him feel better, even if that required them sharing embarrassing confessions and perhaps a kiss.

I’m so excited for @stenny-week and in some places it’s October 15th already so i wanted to post early! Please enjoy!

...

Stan had just stolen the ball from Cartman, blocking him from behind as he clutched the ball in his chest before thrusting it forward in a successful pass. Kyle caught the ball with ease— that was just one of the many perks to being on the basketball team— then he jumped off his back foot to slam dunk the ball into the hoop. The force of the dunk caused the hoop to shutter. it loosened the black sticky tape used to keep the hoop together after years of abuse and neglect.

“This is bullshit!” Cartman huffed with a healthy sheen of sweat coating his face, giving him the appearance of grease-soaked tomato.

“Sorry, dude. We won.” Stan stopped the ball with his foot then picked it up with his hands. Kyle did his winning trot towards Stan, holding his hand out for a high five, “good job, man.”

Cartman wasn’t done with his childish protest, “well!” He began, searching for the words he wanted to say before stammering at the two pairs of eyes staring at him, “well...” again, he struggled, wishing Kenny was here to back him up.

“It’s not a fair game because Kenny isn’t here!” A-ha, he got them now. Kyle and Stan moved over to the bench where Kyle dabbed his forehead and neck with the towel he brought with him. Stan tossed him an extra Gatorade.

“Kenny’s not here because he’s on a date.”

“Exactly, which means we’re down a player, which also means it’s not fair game.”

Stan and Kyle exchanged a look.

“Whatever, dude.”

“Ya know what, screw you guys! I’m going home!” Was Cartman’s declaration. He kicked aside an empty can of beer left by either upperclassmen or a drunken adult. It was hard to tell nowadays.

Kyle rolled his eyes, pushing up a stack of curls that have fallen from his loose bun, “you can’t go home, fatass, all of our shit is at your house.”

“Can’t hear you! I’m busy going home, you gaywads!”

Stan felt three pulses from his pocket, ignoring his friends bickering to divert his attention to the texts he was receiving. His body shifted sideways on the bench, heart racing with excitement as he half expected the texts to be from Wendy. Perhaps she wanted to get back together even though they broke up in middle school. She made it clear that she had no intention of being his boyfriend, even going out with Token of all people, until he suddenly had some sexual awakening; realizing he would rather suck dick instead of being with one of the hottest girls in school.

He rolled his eyes hard, taking on one of Kyle’s many mannerisms as he recalled past events. Cartman and Kyle’s idle chatter sounded nothing more than muffled sounds— like someone yelling behind a thick glass. Stan unlocked his phone.

Kenny: Hey, man, you busy?

Kenny: wanna meet me at our spot?

Kenny: nvm, ur probs with Kyle and Cartfuck—

A quiet chuckle escaped Stan’s parted lips. He continued to read the text:

Kenny: — u know where I am. Ps. I got weed ;)

His eyes glossed over those messages more times then Stan could count, “Stan? Stan? What the hell are you smiling at? It’s kinda creepy.”

Kyle was left standing in front of him with a slight concern dampening his features. The towel he’d previously used now slung around his neck, pale and covered with speckles of faint brown freckles.

“Uh...” Stan licked his lips, contemplating an excuse he could tell his best friend and have it sound believable. They knew each other like the back of their hands. Literally. He pocketed his phone, rubbing sweaty palms on his sweats.

The weather in South Park had been warmer than usual considering it was the middle of October. While Halloween decor met the eyes of anyone passing through their neighborhood, some houses started early with stabbing turkey and pilgrim lawn ornaments in their front yards. Global warming, said Randy like a scratched record over their dreaded dinners. According to him, it was real and ready to fuck us raw in the ass.

Kyle tapped his foot impatiently for an answer, hands resting subconsciously on his hips. His posture resembling one of his mothers when she was about to scowl them. Stan snorted.

“I gotta go, uh, my sister wants me to pick her up a box of tampons?” As he spoke aloud it sounded more ridiculous then it had in his head. What the hell, Stan? Your sisters in college you dumb fuck.

“She’s back for Halloweengivings... My parents thought it would be better to combine both holidays. Nothing better than carving a pumpkin and shoveling down cranberry sauce.”

Kyle blinked, “Uh, okay?”

“Great!” Stan shot up from his seat, giving Kyle a pat on the shoulder, “I’ll text you later, dude!”

He walked with a quickened pace, afraid that Kyle would try to stop him for questions. Sometimes he nagged more than he realized, even though he was only trying to be a good friend. A rain of guilt washed over Stan for lying to Kyle. He lied before. Plenty of times actually.

Once safely around the corner of the block, Stan made haste to Kenny doing god knows what by himself when he was supposed to be on his date with Tammy. Without a doubt she was hot, returning to South Park after moving to California. When she returned she developed an ego bigger than Cartman’s ass, along with an attitude comparing to none of the other girls in their grade. California changes people. Too bad she was still a slut.

At least that’s what the girls said.

Stan slowed his walking. He sniffed the burning grass as he approached their spot— the abandoned railway just minutes away from Kenny’s house. Tilting his head up at one of the many cargo cars rusted from years of weather damaged, he recognized the graffiti drawn on the sides. As well as the smell.

“You got a head start without me, asshole?” His voice echoed through the abandoned field of cars, picking up a rock to chuck at the rusted door. It bounced off the metal with a loud hallowed clink.

“Stan the man.” Kenny pulled the door aside, greeting his friend with widespread arms. Stan felt his heart thump.

“Move aside.” He hoisted his body up, then knee crawled over to his respective end of the car. Stan knocked aside the junk they collected; consisting of empty bottles of wine stolen from his dad, single cans of beer Kenny snagged from Kevin’s pack which steadily grew into a rather nice collection for them, darts, slingshots, and a bunch of other shit.

Kenny closed the door after Stan was in. Instead of relying on the crack of light from the setting sun, the inside of the car was illuminated with a string of Christmas lights connected to a lengthy power cord hooked up to Kenny’s house. Together they had made the perfect “man” cave.

“I thought you were on a date,” Stan said, knees hugging his chest as if he was intruding in the space they created together. Those nauseating butterflies returned to flutter around his stomach.

“I was, then I left.” Kenny passed over the joint sloppily rolled together as if he had done it halfheartedly to quickly get the relief he desired. Stan was no expert at rolling anything. Even he knew it wasn’t his best work.

Kenny hooked a section of his sandy blonde hair behind his ear, exposing the multiple piercings neatly aligned on his outer lobe. He’s done all his piercings himself. Stan bummed off the joint. He attempted to quiet his mind from the indirect kiss from Kenny by smoking it out with the burning kush.

“She’s a bitch. There’s a big difference between being with her to get my dick sucked and actually pursuing a relationship.” Kenny spoke with a bitterness behind his words, “I don’t know. I thought it would be easier to ask her out considering we had a thing before. She’s changed.”

Stan shrugged, slouching back with eased muscles as the joint burned slowly between his fingers, “so you text me?”

A lopsided grin stretched across Kenny’s face, showing off the tooth missing from an accident he had when they were kids and crooked teeth unfixed from his families lack of money to get him braces.

“Of course! You’re my best friend after all. Besides, you wouldn’t judge me like Kyle would.”

“Yeah...” Stan’s voice trailed, eyes following the posters they tapped on the car walls, “he can’t help himself.”

“Yeah, he really can’t.”

They sat in the comfortable silence they created, the two of them passing the blunt back and forth until it became roach and they could no longer smoke it. Their minds were hazed yet relaxed. Nowadays drugs were the only thing able to ease their teenage minds from the angst and stress. Stan found this to be his only escape from the suffering thoughts thanks to his depression and anxiety. Kenny smoked for his own reasons. He just wanted to chill from time to time.

“I thought you were Wendy.” He spoke slow and a bit sluggish, tongue untied and free.

“I thought you were over her, man. She’s no good for you.”

“I love her...” Stan admitted, clutching the fabric on his grey sweats between his hands. He still loved her, he always will.

Kenny spun the dart between his fingers, eyes locked on the boy across from him.

“I could... distract you.” His offer did not go without the flush of red spreading across his cheeks.

“I’m not... I’m not gay.” Stan’s throat tightened and suffocated his words.

“Neither am I... I mean... I think everyone is hot. Guys, Girls, and those in between.” Kenny admitted, crawling over towards Stan to take a seat next to him. They were close enough in the cargo car that Stan could smell the scent of aftershave emitting from Kenny’s body. He felt his stomach twist and turn at two things. Kenny’s confession and the fact they were so close to one another.

He was hot, funny, and Stan could always be himself around him. Instead of Kenny judging or trying to diagnosis his problems like Kyle, Wendy, or his parents, he was allowed to rant and cry out of frustration. They related to each other. Their lives at home sucked just as bad as their friends.

Stan was not gay. From what he knew he was straight with only a few gay mishaps. An embarrassing mishap being the time he got a boner during a sleepover at Kyle’s house. He accidentally walked in on him changing and caught a glimpse of everything. They swore to never speak of it for the sake of not making their sleepover painfully awkward, but Stan could not shake the mental image from his mind as he used his imagination to relieve himself once Kyle had fallen asleep.

Then there was that one time when he was still on the football team and they traveled to Denver to play against their best high school team. He was sharing a room with Craig, Clyde, and Token— to his utter despair since they only spoke in inside jokes which made Stan feel like an outsider. Stan discovered a gay magazine that must have fallen out of one of their bags. While they were fucking around in the pool he stayed behind in the room and allowed his curiosity to roam. He liked what he saw.

Kenny inched closer, resting a hand on Stan’s thigh but doing nothing more because he did not want to do anything if Stan wasn’t comfortable. He did like Stan. A lot.

In those seconds they both sobered up, blue eyes meeting a mysterious purple, adding to the many features Stan loved about him.

“I- I never kissed a guy before.”

Kenny chuckled, “it’s just like kissing a girl, except... Girls taste sweeter. Sort of like fruit because they wear chapstick and shit. Except for Craig-”

“Wait, you kissed Craig?” Stan questioned in disbelief. The weird competition he and Craig had with one another flaring like a newly lit flame ignited from jealousy.

“Spin the bottle. He tasted like a fucking fruitcake.”

Stan chewed on his lower lip. “Since we’re confessing I only kissed Wendy once... And Kyle. We practiced on each other when we were kids.”

“I thought you said you never kissed a guy?”

“T-That doesn’t count! We’re like super best friends so it wasn’t a real kiss!” Stan felt himself get defensive, not appreciating the skeptical looks Kenny was giving him. It was completely normal and not gay for friends to practice on one another.

“Chill, I’m joking-“

Stan silenced him with a kiss. Tensions melted away at the contact of their lips. Kenny tasted as sweet as old candy, also weed. Creating a strange yet familiar flavor. His tongue swept the bottom of his lip, making Stan look more confident than what he was.

Kenny pressed in, moving his tongue around for an entrance into his mouth. Their kiss was sloppy, awkward— because of the angle they were in— but exhilarating.

When they pulled apart for air, Stan was as winded as he was during his game with Kyle and Cartman. He had never experienced a kiss quite like that.

“How was I...?” What else could he say? He and Kenny just kissed for fucksake! Was he going to say thank you?

“Kissing Kyle really helped.” Kenny joked, nearly falling to his side from the playful shove from Stan.

“You weren’t so bad either. That was like my first real kiss, dude, so I guess you took my kissing virginity.”

“You’re so lame.”

Stan flipped him off, hugging his body with his hands. He just kissed Kenny. Him and Kenny, lips locked, in full make out. What were they now?

“You okay?” Kenny pried one of Stans' hands out from his weird human arm wrap, playing with his fingers before sliding his own in between. There was no way he could know how Stan feels now but he only dreamed about being his boyfriend, fantasizing about the pathetic crush he had since they were 13 years old.

“So are we dating?” Stan blurted. He was unable to look at Kenny’s eyes just in case he said no or something else which might break his heart for the second time.

“I would say we are... if you want too. We don’t have to tell the guys yet if you’re not ready.”

“So...” his tone a childlike whisper, “I guess this means I’m gay? Do I have to have, like, a big coming out party.”

Kenny smiled, “you don’t have to put a label on everything. Look at me. Who cares if you’re straight, gay, or bi. Be with whoever makes you happy.”

Stan nodded. He unraveled from his hold around his body to lean into Kenny, holding his hand tight. Right now he didn’t want to think. He just wanted to close his eyes and enjoy the moment.

“I’m going to punch Craig for kissing you, I hope you know that.” He murmured, knocking his shoe against Kenny’s.

“It was two years ago, babe. Besides, I would much rather kiss my boyfriend then Tucker.”

Stan’s heart raced again. Boyfriend. That’s right. They were boyfriends now. The title sounded like music to his ears.

Eat shit Craig Tucker.

...

#the tea is i wont have time to post this tomorrow #oops!#let me know what you think peeps #stenny week begins #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #stenny week

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