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xgiannax · 3 years

Note

Could you possibly write something for Kirishima and a chubby reader? Like maybe she’s usually confident but one day she’s a bit down and he asks what’s wrong and just tells her she’s amazing and all the uwus, with a sprinkle of t-words of course

Just found your blog and I love it! Keep up the amazing work!

-galacticlee3

I would love to write something for a chubby reader, I just so happened to be a chubby reader myself so this is so great🥺✨ also thank youu! I hope you like this one💓

You searched through your closet, tossing clothes behind you. You’d been through your entire closet-twice- and nothing was hitting right today. It’s not like you didn’t have any cute clothes, you had plenty. You just felt really off today, nothing you put on was making you feel as good as you usually would when you got dressed up. Kirishima insisted that the two of you have a date today, and you wanted to look pretty but your heart just wasn’t in it today.

“Hey cutie-woah what tornado came through here?” He raised an eyebrow eying the pile of clothes in front of you, when you didn’t give him even the slightest smile in response he gave you his full attention

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” He asked scratching the back of his neck in confusion, you shook your head stepping over to the clothes to get to him

“I can’t find anything to wear” again his eyebrow raised and he looked from the pile of clothes and back to you

“Well it looks like you have plenty to choose from, do you need help-“

“No! I just.. I don’t know” you sighed shaking your head, he stepped back to look at the outfit you already had on

“What’s wrong with this? You look so cute!” Your hands instinctively went up to your stomach

“Kirishima, look at my stomach! I just feel so fat!” You finally exclaimed waving your arms over yourself, he instantly frowned at you

“You are not fat Y/N, don’t say that ever again okay? And so what if you think your stomach sticks out-“ you cut him off with a groan

“Yeah, okay I’m not going out today” You sighed moving around him and sulking out of the room, he followed behind you with his arms crossed.

“Y/N, baby will you please get ready?”

“I already told you, I’m not going today. I don’t know if I’m bloated or what but I don’t not look good today! I can’t-“ he squinted at you and tackled you onto the couch . You yelled in surprise glaring up at him while he hovered over you

“You listen to me, Y/N! You are so amazing , and have absolutely no reason to feel this way about yourself right now. Your body is so perfect to me, every curve and every ounce. Besides-“ he cupped your face kissing you eagerly “You know I like em thick with 3 c’s anyway”

You caught the smirk on his face and pointed a finger at him in warning

“Don’t, Kirishima!” But of course he ignored you sliding down to pull up your shirt and blow a raspberry on your stomach, you arched your back screaming and pushing at his head. He blew about three more and you melted into the couch laughing like crazy

“I just can’t get enough! And your thighs? Whew, don’t even get me started!” He moved even lower squeezing and poking at your inner thighs, You squealed kicking and trying to grab his hands but failing miserably

“I don’t care how thick you are, babe. Just more to love, you know?” he laughed reaching up to squeeze your sides and bite your neck, you squirmed around laughing frantically and kicking. He stopped sitting up so you could catch your breath when your laughs went quiet, you took in air quickly trying to push away the residual giggles. He took your chin in his hand turning your face so he could look at you

“I don’t like when you feel this way about yourself, cause you’re beautiful no matter what. Especially to me. Now, will you stop moping around? You look great-well your hair is a little messed up now but other than that!” He joked and you rolled your eyes, he dug his hands in your armpits and you squealed clamping your arms to your sides and twisting away.

“KIRIHEHEHEHEH STAHP!”

“Are you done being sucky?”

“YEHEHEHEHES!” He stopped and you rolled on your stomach to protect yourself from any other attacks

“Glad you’re feeling better, cutie! Now come on, you’re wasting precious daylight” he chuckled smacking your butt and standing up to stretch, you smiled shaking your head at him. He really could be so sweet-when he wasn’t trying to kill you with tickles.

#bnha fluff #bnha x reader #sfw tickles #thick and curvy #tickle fluff #tickle fic #tickling #ticklish!reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima ejirou #mha kirishima #kirishima x you #kirishima x reader #tickle asks #tickle community #chubby #thickums

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fieryanmitsu · 4 years

Text

If Only | A3! (one-sided Itaru/Izumi, Sakyo/Izumi)

This story plot suddenly just cannonballed into my head while I was listening to Shintarou Asanuma’s cover of “So Close” from Disney’s Enchanted. For those of you who don’t know, he is Itaru’s Japanese voice actor! I really do love AsaShin’s singing voice, and he seriously just knocks it out of the ballpark with this song. I’m just heartbroken forever now, and the lyrics made me cry, so here I am with an angsty story that no one asked for, hahaha!

Because of the way I envisioned this story, it felt most right if I wrote it in present tense. However, this style of writing is definitely something out of my comfort zone and I can’t remember the last time I tried writing in the present tense. So, I’ll apologize in advance if I make your eyes bleed with my terrible grammar and any unintentional switching to the past tense (especially since I don’t write with a beta)!!

IF ONLY

CHARACTERS: Itaru Chigasaki, Izumi Tachibana, Sakyo Furuichi

PAIRINGS: unrequited Itaru/Izumi, Sakyo/Izumi

My fanfic masterpost: Here

AO3: Link in my Blog Menu

Itaru finds himself in an unfamiliar situation: on the sidelines of a blaring dance floor. He has attended many weddings in his lifetime – he was at that age, after all, as his parents often remind him – but, he can count on one hand how many wedding after-parties he has bothered to join. Actually, he didn’t even need one whole hand. One experience was enough for him to have his fill of plastering on a fake face and dealing with obnoxious drunk people – especially drunk women trying to get into his bed. Not to mention, he would lose out on his precious free time.

However, there was no way he could get out of this particular after-party. After all, it is the Mankai Company-exclusive after-party for Izumi and Sakyo’s wedding. Or was it the after-after-party? Did the impromptu karaoke session thrown together by Banri and Tenma count as an after-party? Regardless, much to Itaru’s misery, skipping out on the current celebrations is not an option – according to Tsuzuru, anyway.

Nibbling half-heartedly on one of the finger sandwiches that Omi had prepared, Itaru lounges casually at one of the cocktail tables. A beautiful bouquet of flowers sits upon the pristine tablecloth – lovingly hand made by Tsumugi, of course – but his eyes spare them no glance. Instead, his gaze is glued on Izumi’s slender figure as she sways her hips on the dance floor, surrounded by a gaggle of the younger Mankai Company members. They cheer her on as she clutches the skirt of her floor-length white dress, whirling around with abandon. Her smile flashes brighter than the tacky disco ball suspended from the ceiling, and Itaru is unable to look away.

Suddenly, the dance music fades out and the mood in the ballroom completely changes as the DJ – Sakoda, because his services are free – starts playing a mellower tune.

Picking up his glass, Itaru throws back the rest of his drink, feeling the alcohol burn a hot trail down his throat. There was no way he was going to get through this evening sober. He clunks down the empty glass and vaguely registers Sakoda loudly announcing that it was about time that the boss gets his butt on the dance floor already.

The young salaryman absentmindedly shoves another sandwich into his mouth as he watches Sakyo being pulled from his seat at a nearby table and shoved into the centre of the rented hall by Taichi and Misumi. The bespectacled man stumbles as he nearly trips on one of the table legs, and Izumi catches him in her arms as the two young men laugh rather than help.

After Sakyo regains his footing, the newlywed couple wrap their arms around each other to the cheers of the audience and they begin swaying to the tune of a slow, romantic song. The usual hard expression on Sakyo’s face softens as he looks down lovingly at his bride, and the smile that Izumi returns is blinding.

Itaru tears his eyes away. He doesn’t know why he still feels bothered. Did he not literally witness those lovey-dovey faces all day as they had been exchanging vows, giving their speeches at the reception, and cutting the wedding cake? Maybe the alcohol was exacerbating it, but the remaining sandwich in his mouth suddenly tastes like sand and he feels sick to his stomach. He wants to run away, wants to get away from the awful feelings wrapping their fingers around his chest and squeezing his heart painfully.

But, as usual, he doesn’t do anything. Just like the countless other instances in the past years. How many times had the voice in his head shut him down when he wanted to reach out to her, only to freeze and pull away?

‘Why bother – you’re not good enough, anyway,’ the voice lamented.

‘You’re just useless gamer trash – you’ll never be able to give her what she deserves,’ the voice sneered.

‘Why compete with him – he’s better than you in every way,’ the voice demanded.

He has long lost count.

Itaru is drawn out of his thoughts by loud whooping and wolf whistles. Turning his head to the source of the attention, he sees Azuma confidently step onto the dance floor while flicking his ponytail over his shoulder. Moments later, the long-haired man gracefully steals Izumi away from her groom with a wink. Even though the lighting in the room is dim, Itaru can just make out Sakyo rolling his eyes as he steps aside, but not without a good-natured smirk on his lips.

Izumi giggles with delight as Azuma leads her across the dance floor. Before long, the professional cuddler’s actions start a chain reaction. Kazunari swoops in shortly after with a cheeky grin to enjoy his turn with Izumi before he twirls her away to – a very drunk, Itaru notes – Tasuku. The director is nearly crushed by his burly body when he fails to keep his feet under him, but Citron rescues her and begins spinning her around the dance floor. Izumi’s laughter rings in Itaru’s ears as she continues to waltz through a succession of more Mankai Company men.

And, then, suddenly, Izumi is standing in front of him, and her hand is on his wrist.

“Dance with me, Itaru,” she requests – no, commands – and tugs lightly on his arm with a big, innocent smile and flushed cheeks.

In any other situation, his rejection would be instantaneous. He doesn’t dance – can’t dance. Izumi knows this, too, considering the countless number of times he has trampled on her toes during practices.He knows he should turn her down, because nothing good can come of this.

Maybe, he could use Masumi as an excuse – the young man was slumped over on one of the tables, dead to the world. He could say that he was taking Masumi home to rest (and mope) in his bed instead. But, something about Izumi always makes his brain short-circuit and he can’t bring himself to say ‘no’.

Still in a daze, he lets her pull him onto the dance floor. It’s not until he feels one of her hands settle on his shoulder and her other hand clasp around his own, that it really hits him.

An intense surge of emotions wrenches through his gut and he wants to throw up. His mind is a tornado of competing, conflicting thoughts, threatening to rip him apart from the inside. He feels a telltale prickling behind his eyes and he bites down so hard on the inside of his cheek that he can taste blood.

Hide it, he screams at himself. SMILE, damn it.

So, he does. Except, it’s not the smile he means to give – the princely, aloof smile that deflects everything. Instead, he gives Izumi a smile he has hidden for years. The one that he only permits himself to give her in his dreams.

Itaru wants to kick himself – wants to stab his own traitorous heart – because, in his moment of weakness, he is succumbing to the escapist habit he has depended on since childhood. However, this time, instead of imagining himself as Lancelot, as he often did in his youth, he imagines that he is… hers. Imagines that this is their dance. Imagines that he is the one that said ‘I do’ at the altar. Imagines that he can make this beautiful woman, in her pure white dress, happy – for it was this woman that gave him a place to belong and he can’t imagine being anywhere else but by her side.

And, in that moment, Itaru is the happiest he has ever been and he wishes he could keep holding her hand forever. Maybe, this moment could have been real–

If only he didn’t always just decide to give up, then maybe he could have said ‘I’m serious’ instead of ‘I’m just joking.’

If only he was brave enough, then maybe he could have returned her embrace, instead of wrenching himself away.

If only he could hate himself less, then maybe he could have told her: ‘Choose me.’

If only this dream would never end.

If only–

But, he hears the melody beginning to slow down…

Not yet.

… and the last notes of the song fade away.

Please.

Then, their feet come to a halt, and Itaru wakes up.

“Thanks, Itaru! You’ve made me so happy!” she exclaims with a smile that burns its image into his eyes.

And, despite the irrational part of his mind screaming at him to keep hold of her hand, he just gives her a smile – a real one, because he loves her – and gently plants a kiss to the back of her hand before he lets her go.

It took me a long time and many late nights of fiddling around before I was satisfied with this, so hopefully my words got through and you were all able to the fruits of my labour!

I would also highly recommend you all to take a listen to AsaShin’s cover of “So Close” if you can (it’s from the Disney Koe no Ouji-sama Voice Stars Dream Selection II album). There is also the original Japanese version on YouTube with subtitles last I checked as well. Ultimately, this story was a culmination of my feelings and thoughts as I listened to that song.

Anyway, thank you again for reading and feel free to leave a comment with your thoughts or any constructive criticism!! If you enjoyed, please reblog~

-Anmitsu

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shootingcookielover · 4 years

Text

I did a thing

I couldn't stop myself so I wrote some Royaliceit angst/comfort

Is that the correct terminology-

Anyway. Description:

Deceit is sick of Patton lying to himself and Roman pops in at some point, too, because he was around and heard crying.

I'm bad at descriptions. Or summaries. Or whatever they're called.

Warnings: Uh, Idk. Patton thinks badly about himself and there's like some impersonation and a bit of mean lying from Deceit? I'm also bad at Warnings, apparently. If you notice anything, tell me and I'll put it here.

Characters: Patton, Deceit, Roman and Deceit kinda shapeshifts into Virgil and Logan at one point, uh, Remus is mentioned

Pairings: Royaliceit but maybe not quite? It's not really an official relationship at this point, I guess it's platonic? Honestly don't know at what point a relationship goes from platonic to romantic

Hope you enjoy! Hope it's not too bad!

Patton sank down on his bed.

He didn’t like this. None of this. His room was too empty, too quiet, too… him.

It reflected him too much, bounced his emotions right back at him, it was like the room took his head and shoved his face into everything Patton didn’t want to think about.

The first tear fell unnoticed.

He was useless, he was making Thomas feel bad. He was making everything worse, he was annoying and stupid and- and-

Everyone hated him!

The second tear was quickly wiped from his face as he stood up. He didn’t feel like sitting anymore, there was a restlessness in his legs that brought him to the mirror on the wall. Pictures were clipped onto it, held aloft by magnets.

Pictures of him and his famILY.

Of Roman and Logan and Virgil. Of days spent together laughing. Having fun.

Patton bit his lip, trying to stifle the sobs wanting to escape him.

He was fine. Just one look at the pictures confirmed it; his life was great, he had no right to be upset.

His famILY loved him, he loved them. They were famILY.

Even a look into the mirror itself was enough to come to the conclusion; Patton was fine. Happy-pappy Patton!

He was smiling after all, and those tears could only be happy ones!

Because he was okay. His life was too good to be upset about things.

His hands curled into fists nonetheless. A quiet hiccup left his throat and this time he bit down on his fist to stifle the sound.

He was fine!

“You know, before I couldn’t do much, but now?”

Patton whirled around. Deceit was sitting on his bed, one leg crossed over the other.

“I am capable of so much more.”, the lying side stood up in one fluid motion.

He reminded Patton much more of a snake, in moments like these.

The moral side stumbled back, hitting the mirror behind him and wincing in light pain as Deceit advanced towards him. There was something predatory about the way the lying side moved.

So deliberate and calm, as if he knew his prey was trapped and he was only playing around, waiting for it to tire itself out before striking.

“W- what do you mean?”, Patton choked out. His emotions were surrounding him like a tornado, an invisible force that tore him apart from the inside.

Fear was the most prevalent at the moment.

Deceit stopped when he was barely an inch away from Patton.

The lying side might not have been as tall as the moral one, but the dangerous glint in his eyes, the menacing shine of his scales and the threatening length of his canines was enough to make Patton feel as though Deceit were towering over him.

“Your lies, Patton.”, Deceit replied. His voice was smooth as always, slick and easy to fall for. “They reek. I’ve been smelling them for so long now...”

Deceit reached up and Patton could feel himself freeze up. The fear made his heart beat faster, the terror in his eyes was overwhelming.

But all the lying side did, was push a stray strand of hair behind Patton’s ear, careful not to upset his glasses.

“But I can finally come forward. My dearest Patton, whyever do you feel the need to lie to yourself?”

The moral side had no time to respond as Deceit stepped back, just enough that Patton felt he could breath again.

“And, perhaps more importantly, to your oh so precious family?”

For the first time since he’d appeared, Deceit’s eyes strayed from Patton to the pictures on the mirror behind him. There was a small crease forming between the lying side’s eyebrows and Patton almost wanted to reach out and smooth it down. Almost.

“W- what are you talking about?”, Patton asked, forcing as much cheer into his voice as he could. It still came out shaky, but it was convincing enough in his opinion. “I don’t- I’d never lie to my kiddos!”

Suddenly Deceit was so close to him again. His face was almost touching the moral sides.

Patton could see the lying sides forked tongue, flicking out, as if to taste the air. The frown on Deceit’s face was easier to see now.

“Don’t”, he hissed, before seemingly getting himself back under control. “You can’t lie to me, Patton.”

The hand was back again, this time laying gently against Patton’s cheek.

The moral side wanted to lean into it, to fall forward and be comforted, but this was Deceit.

Patton batted away the hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, kiddo.”

Deceit backed up again, some more this time, leaving Patton enough space to step away from the mirror.

“Of course you don’t.”, the lying side sneered. “Because you’re happy, aren’t you, Patton?”

The moral side startled as he heard Virgil’s voice and saw not the snake but his strange, dark son. “What are you-“

“I may not know about emotions or have any, for that matter, but I will assist you however I can.”, this time it was Logan and it looked so wrong, seeing him slither closer, like the venomous snake Deceit was.

“Padre, you look positively horrible! What happened?! Is there a fiend in need of slaying?!”, Roman stood so close to Patton, he could see the red dots in his green eyes.

The tears were back and Patton choked down a sob. “S- stop-!”

“You know you can tell us everything, right?”, Deceit was so close.

He looked and sounded so much like Virgil.

Another choked sob freed itself from Patton’s throat.

“I- I know!”, the statement almost sounded broken. Patton’s eyes sank closed, tears still running free. “I- I’m s-sorry! I didn’t… I didn’t want to lie to you!”

He knew he was being dumb, that it was just Deceit in the room with him, but the admission felt so, so good, like a weight being lifted from his shoulders.

His eyes slowly opened again, though he didn’t dare look at Deceit. “…I didn’t want to burden you with my… my problems.”

A quiet sigh and there was again a hand, on Patton’s shoulder this time. “Your problems could never be a burden to us, Padre! Don’t you know that? We care about you. You’re important to us. We want to help you.”

The moral side felt his chest constrict. He looked at Roman with mistrust in his eyes, yet such a desperate need to believe what the creative side was saying.

Except it wasn’t the creative side.

It was Deceit.

Patton gave a wet laugh, pushing through his tears. He wiped them quickly. “Y- you’ve i- improved, Deceit!”, he complimented, trying to hold onto some form of composure.

Patton sniffed, wiping at his face some more.

Roman looked confused. Then he glanced over his shoulder.

Patton followed the gaze and found… Deceit.

In all his glory standing behind them. He was leaning against the wall, a bitter smirk on his lips. He gave Patton a tiny wave.

“B- but-“, Patton sputtered, his eyes focused on Roman again.

The creative side smiled. “It’s actually me, Padre.”

The tears were back.

The moral side slumped forward against Roman, burying his head in the creative side’s shoulder.

Roman threaded his hand through Patton’s hair carefully. “Why did you lie to us, Patton?”, the creative side asked, voice low. “We want to help you, but we can’t if you don’t talk to us.”

Patton sniffled. His eyes were closed again and his glasses were pressing against his face uncomfortably. At this point they were probably so smudged he wouldn’t be able to see anything even if he did open his eyes.

“My… my life is good.”, the moral side mumbled, holding onto Roman for dear life. “I- I shouldn’t- I don’t- I can’t have problems! I- I h- have it s- so much better than- than others and yet—“, Patton stopped himself, instead breaking out into more sobs.

Roman hushed him quietly, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “It’s okay, Patton.”, he reassured. “You can have problems. Your problems aren’t any less valid than other people’s. It’s okay.”

The two of them somehow ended up on Patton’s bed with the moral side in Roman’s lap.

Just as the moral side managed to calm down a little, Deceit spoke up again.

“Well then.”, the lying side said, “I accomplished what I came here to do. See you never.”

He was about to sink out, when Patton cried: “Wait!”

Deceit stopped mid-sink-out. He raised one eyebrow at the moral side. “What? Any other lies you need me to coax out of you?”

Patton was still busily wiping his face, but there was a blush slowly creeping up his neck. “N- no… I just… wanted to thank- thank you.”

“Ah, well, if that’s everything.”, Deceit took off his hat, showing beautiful, curly brown hair, and bowed. “It was my pleasure. Now-“

“Deceit?”, Patton cut off. He had scooted down from Roman’s lap who was watching the exchange curiously. “D- do you… uhm…”, Patton was blushing harder now.

“Do I what, Patton? As much as I enjoy uncovering lies, I do have a tight schedule.”

“A- ah, then maybe not…”, the moral side conceded, head low, eyes averted.

Roman shot Deceit a look. The creative side gestured at Patton and the lying side had hung around Remus enough to understand it meant: “What are you doing you moron you’re being a socially inept asshole again!”

Deceit sighed. He wanted to help, he really did, but the ‘light sides’ (delightful name) simply didn’t make any sense to him. Sure he could replicate their mannerisms, but why they acted like that in the first place? He had never been able to grasp it.

“Fine. Patton, what is it. As it turns out my schedule just cleared up.”

Patton shook his head. “N- no, if you have something else-“

Deceit cut him off. “Patton, just tell me. I’m here because I don’t want to help and you’re not making it difficult at all.”

Roman shot him another glare, but Deceit ignored the creative side in favor of Patton who looked up at him almost shyly.

“O- okay, if- if you w-want to… m-maybe… could you… stayhereandcuddlewithus?”

Patton squeezed his eyes shut, anxious about Deceit’s answer. He’d asked.

The lying side was sure to turn him down, to call him a weirdo and sink out.

A hand was placed under Patton’s chin. His head was lifted gently and the moral side’s eyes met the bewildered ones of Deceit.

“You want to cuddle with me?”, he asked.

“Y-yeah, I mean…”, Patton tried his best to avoid looking into the other’s eyes, which was hard considering their proximity. “Y-you have s-six arms right? So y- you must be am- amazing at cuddles and- and also you’re a snake and snakes need heat right, so I thought it made sense-“

He was rambling. The moral side cut himself off as soon as he realized, chancing a glance at Deceit.

The lying side looked even more baffled, but slowly, a smile worked it’s way onto his face. “I would hate to cuddle with you.”

Patton beamed at Deceit and immediately surged forward, wrapping his arms around the other side’s torso. His face was smushed against the lying side’s shirt and his glasses were really in the way now.

“Splendid!”

Roman tackle-hugged the other two sides.

Somehow the three of them ended up laying on Patton’s bed. Deceit was in the middle with Roman and Patton snuggling up to him.

Patton had been right; the six arms were incredible at cuddling.

The moral side in question had fallen asleep by now, his glasses securely on a nearby nightstand.

Roman, meanwhile, was still awake. He looked up at Deceit with an almost confused gaze, though it was interlaced by something akin to awe.

The lying side’s eyes moved from Patton to Roman. “Something wrong?”

His voice was even more wonderful when he talked so low, a soothing deep rumble that made Roman feel much better than he had in a while. “No.”, the creative side admitted.

He was still staring up at Deceit who raised an eyebrow.

“Well then why aren’t you staring?”

Roman huffed, a content smile on his face. He himself was on the cusp of falling asleep, his eyes already drooping, though he didn’t want them to.

“You’re just so beautiful.”

The creative side didn’t see or hear Deceit’s reaction.

Roman and Patton awoke the next morning to only each other.

Confused, Patton sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Where’s Deceit?”

Roman yawned and stretched. He hadn’t slept this good in a while. “Dunno. He did say he had a tight schedule, I suppose.”

Patton sighed. “He’s a great cuddler.”

Roman nodded wistfully. “Yeah.”

#Sanders Sides #Royaliceit #Deceit sanders #Roman sanders #Patton sanders #Fanfiction #Cuddles #Crying #Tags are weird n hard

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cloudyyoonji · 5 years

Text

Night Changes.

Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

BASED ON ANON REQUEST

Summary: He was your summer, your autumn, your winter, and your spring.

Genre: Fluff with lots of angst. A fluffy ending!

____________________________

The summer was full of so many good memories. You both lived so dearly in each moment, reveling in the endless concerts and road trips. You were both like the wild Fae, dancing and dancing into the night with no one but each-other by your sides.

So as the leaves turned brown and dancing became afternoon strolls, you readied yourself for a blissful winter, one full of hot food and comforting nights.

Autumn bought new experiences, new ideas even. Hyunjins birthday had seemed to come quite fast, and you weren’t sure what to get him. Something meaningful perhaps? This led you to enslave Minho as your personal shopping assistant.

As you step outside, Minho at your side, the air is cool, the breeze carrying the leaves down the street in a tornado-like hustle. Padded jackets on and laces done tight, you push through into the day, cheeks left slightly red and stinging when you arrive at a small jewelry shop not too far away from the dorms.

“I think he’d like a bracelet, you know. Actually, he’ll like anything that comes from you.”

You glare up at the male, flat look on your features. “It has to be perfect, you know that. That’s why I need you to help me.”

The boy smiles, rolling his eyes before pointing to the bracelet you were looking at. “I know for a fact he’ll like that bracelet Y/N.”

You examine the bracelet carefully in your hands. “You really think so? It’s not too boring of a gift?”

Minho leans down to catch your eye, a gentle smile on his features. “Get the bracelet. He’ll love it.”

Smiling brightly, you turn to the cashier, asking her if you can purchase the bracelet.

You’re to caught up in your thoughts to notice Minho turning around, phone pressed to his ear, but when he suddenly grabs your arm as soon as the bag touches your fingertips, you know somethings wrong.

“Pull your hood up. Paparazzi know we’re here.”

And with his words, your tugging at your hood, the boy doing the same.

Both sprinting out of the shop, you try your best to ignore the flashes and focus yourself on getting to the car to get out of this flurry of people.

Breathing a sigh of relief, both of you are quick to get into the car. The sound of camera flashes almost nonexistent over the sound of the engine as you speed back to the dorms.

“Shit that was close.” Minho pants, looking back at the group of people who seem to be fading out of sight entirely.

You nod in agreement, too puffed to even speak. The bag is held tightly in your fingers, safe from total damnation.

Minho gesture to the bag. “Are you going to hide that somewhere?”

You nod, a quick smile playing on your lips. “In the laundry, right on the top shelf where I keep the extra washing powder. He’ll never look there.”

The boy smiles, nodding. “That’s a good place indeed. He’ll never find that.”

Only a few days later, your winter coat seems to hold a different meaning, one that disguised your true intentions. You’re keen to get home, the long day of shift work at the local coffee shop making your back sore and your feet desperate for just even a second of a break. Your punching in the code to your apartment fast, craving the warmth of your heater in this cold weather.

But your shuffling feet come to a halt when you see a disgruntled Hyunjin in the living room, now standing as you’ve entered.

The silence is eerie, too eerie. It’s as if a string between you two had broken, but neither of you knows what string it is as work at desperately trying to repair it.

He’d seen it, the photos of you and Minho, more malicious then you’d expected. The news article depicts your search for the right birthday present as a secret date, a secret date with Minho.

And just like that, the leaves fade from a yellow-orange to a crumpled brown, stems bare as they face on the winter to come.

Talking turned to screaming in one falling leaf, so much doubt anxiety just adding fuel to the fire as you fight about one photo, one photo that has been read so completely wrong it makes you sick.

As the words come flying, it is clear there can be no take backs once they leave your mouths.

And just like that, autumn becomes winter in only a few short minutes.

The temperature in your house not only dips but as does the communication with Hyunjin; frozen, damaged and dying.

It only got colder.

The air around you is cold, thick with rain that seems to turn to ice the moment it hits your skin. Much like the water below you.

Gongdong bridge is nice this time of the night, one of your favorite spots in the whole of Seoul. A spot that made you unconditionally happy. There was just something about the way the skyline met with Han River that made it so beautiful and fascinating.

But yet again, the water below seemed to reflect your missing half in the water below.

Pushing through the rain, you step closer to the railing, eyes falling to the rippling water below. The wind seeps into your bones, but you barely feel it over your eerie emptiness.

The rivers reflection of the night sky makes it appear as if an everlasting galaxy is laid across its surface. It almost looks peaceful; unsettlingly perfect. But beneath the surface is black, something much sinister than darkness itself, but somehow more comforting than the black abyss.

And the creatures in the river, were they sleeping? Were the fish sheltered under rocks or plants lying dormant until the first rays of sun hit the water? Or were they darting around, as awake as you are now?

You lean further over the rail, desperate to catch even a glimpse of the scaley creatures below. Are you awake? Are you here with me at this ungodly hour of the night?

"Y/N?"

The voice gives you a heart attack, body turning in the direction of the voice before your mind can even register.

Felix is walking towards you, fingers flexed over his phone. There's something a little off about his appearance; it being more tattered than it usually was - hair wet and tousled by the wind and clothes soaked by the pouring rain. The boy takes deep breathes, suggesting that perhaps he'd been running. But in this weather?

"Y/N, we've been looking for you."

"We?" You question, eyes narrowing in on the boy.

"Yes, we. Hyunjin too," He swallows, hand reaching out from his pocket to gesture at you. "Just please move away from the railing, it's making me nervous."

So you push back, standing your ground a few feet from Felix, trying not to let the boy see how shocked you are.

Felix takes out his phone, pressing it to his ear to give a few short replies to the person on the other line.

"Yeah, I've found her... Gongdong Bridge... Okay, I'll do that... Be there soon."

He steps forward, phone now tucked into his pocket, and freehand raised to grab your arm. "I'm taking you back to the dorms."

You immediately recoil, pushing your wrist out from his grip, stepping back. Fresh tears roll down your cheeks, eyes filled with more to come.

The rain couldn't mask everything. Especially not your pain.

Shaking your head, you look up at the boy who seems just as shocked as you were.

"You're not taking me anywhere."

Soaked to the bone, your words make you shiver, light cardigan doing nothing in keeping you warm.

"Y/N please." "No," Now you're physically shaking, tears rolling with the rain. "I will not go with you. I won't see him, I won't."

"Y/N."

This time it's not Felix, but someone else from behind you. Turning quickly, your eyes are wide and glassy; vulnerable.

It's like he was untouched by the winter, eyes still holding the same glimmer as they did in the summer, just the way you remembered them to be. Clouds of breath swirl around him, damp hair catching ever so slightly in the breeze of the winter that seemed it would never end.

As he shifts to hold out his hand to you, you immediately back up, pulling not just your soaked cardigan closer to you, but your guards too.

But when you notice him tug at the sleeve of his own coat, revealing a glint of silver that seems to hit you straight in the chest.

The boy scans your features for a moment, looking down at the bracelet he now cradles with his other hand.

"Minho gave it to me on my birthday. He said it was from you.”

You say nothing, eyes wide and unblinking as you stare at the item you’d come to hate, despise.

“Well,” he sighs, “I say gave, but he actually threw it at me.

Hyunjins arms drop back to his sides, hands slipping into the pockets of his coat. “He had every right to.”

Finally, you two make eye contact. It’s everything you remember, the brown bringing back so many fond memories of late night cuddles and peaceful mornings. You find yourself melting into the summer a little, losing touch of the winter you’re in, the reality you’re in.

“I had no right to say what I did to you. To Minho too.”

The words make you break, another stray tear lost to the rain.

“You know,” Hyunjin shifts his gaze to the watery horizon, now barely visible in the dark. “He told me everything a few days after it happened. How it was a surprise for me, how he felt nothing towards you, everything you said to me that night in your apartment. I was stupid, stupid enough to ignore you-”

His voice breaks off with a crack, eyes desperately searching for something lost in the distance before coming to rest on you, his lost treasure.

“You’re stupid Hyunjin.” You finally speak, eyes scanning his, your eyes as cold as the river below you both.

“I know!” He cries, “I know I am! I let the most precious thing I ever had slip out of my fingers. I loved you Y/N, I still do love you!”

“You have no idea how hard these few weeks have been” you monotone, eyes glazed over; frozen with tears. “Hwang Hyunjin we both said some terrible things.”

His gaze is now on his feet, the rain barely masking the tears rolling down his cheeks.

“But I’ve missed you too much.”

Eyes wide, his gaze snaps to you as you almost subconsciously walk towards him, attracted like a magnet.

Standing in front of each other, you can practically see just how the winter has affected him; eyes red-rimmed, breathing labored, cheeks wet with a mixture of rain and tears.

Throwing your arms around the boy, you can’t but help let out a sigh of familiarity at how it feels, how well you just fit together.

In an instance, the ice melts away. Spring ignites your senses, waking them from the harsh winter as warmth spreads up your veins, through your bloodstream.

Pulling back you see the same warmth in his eyes as they held in the summer, gleaming with a softness only you knew. His jacket around your shoulders is as warm as you remembered, hands tangled and afraid to let go.

“Will you come back? To the dorms?”

“Of course.” You smile, heart full.

The spring has bloomed at last.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids au #stray kids #stray kids hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin stray kids #kpop #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #angstyfluffyimagines #stray kids minho #stray kids lee minho #lee minho stray kids #minho stray kids #fluff

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dark-and-kawaii · 6 years

Note

Would my Kacchan be willing to write for my Kacchan for her Deku? Bakugos s/o has a fear of thunderstorms and is staying the night at his place when a big storm hits. And then adorable fluffyness that he would deny for the rest of his life happens.

my precious deku

my makoto to my haruka

my midorima to my takao

and my fushimi to my yata

Of course i can write this ^-^! This is so adorable *jumps around*

Sorry this took so long for me to get to xoxo!

You could see the storm clouds heading your way as you walked to Bakugou’s house, your hands were clenching your bag… You’ve hated storms for as long as you could remember, and now you have to face one when studying with Bakugou…

‘I have to stay strong! I can’t let him know i’m a coward! Ahhh! Who am i kidding?! I’m such a baby! NO! I got this! I won’t freak out!’

It was quiet in his room, neither of you were speaking, the only sounds were the rain drops tapping on the window and the smooth sounds of your pencils writing. You were content though, it was peaceful and the storm seemed to have passed minus the rain.

So you thought, until a sharp, loud crack to a long, low rumble struck out of no where!

“Katsu!” You couldn’t help yourself, you were scared and frightened so your body reacted.

“The hell?”

Clinging to Bakugou’s arm tightly with your head resting on his shoulder blade and your body quivering, you closed your eyes in hope that the storm would stop.

Another loud crack came down outside and this time it sounded a lot closer. Tightening your grip around Bakugou’s arm and burring your head into his should more, a small cry fleed from your mouth.

“The hell is your problem idiot?” Bakugou’s words were as if he didn’t care, but the fact he was speaking so softly proved to you otherwise. “HEY! I SAID WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM!? ANSWER ME DAMMIT!!”

“Thunder…” You were mumbling, and the fact that his shoulder was muffling you didn’t help.

“Huh?! Couldn’t quite catch that?!” Pushing you away, Bakugou sat there waiting as patiently as he could for your answer.

“I- Th-The….” Your head was lowered, how could you tell him… ‘…He’s going to think i’m weak and tell me to leave…’

“SPIT IT OUT DAMMIT!” Tapping his pencil violently, Bakugou was clenching his teeth but the minute your head lifted… His pencil dropped from his hand… For the very first time, Bakugou felt a ping in his chest… Your face was full of distress, and those beautiful eyes of yours that always shined so bright… no longer radiated happiness. Instead your eyes were crestfallen…

“It’s th-the thunder… Katsu, i’m sorry… I know you probably look at me differently now, but for as long as i can remember” -A tear falls from your dejected eyes- “for as long as i can remember i’ve always been terrified of them, i’m so scared that a tornado or something with hit and everything will be destroyed…” Wiping your face you were about to get up so you could leave to get a tissue, but when one was presented in front of your face you didn’t know how to respond.

“You really are an idiot aren’t you?” Bakugou waved the white tissue in front of your face until you finally took it. “… We are all scared of something…” His face was turned from you.

“Katsu?”

You followed his eyes and there on his desk, Bakugou was staring at a framed picture with the two of you in it… Was he scared of losing you? Scared of you feeling hurt?

“Don’t ever look at me with those sad eyes again… Got it?”

Bakugou never said it, but as he looked at the framed photo of you both, you knew… Your strong willed Katsu was scared of seeing you in pain.

As you blew your nose thunder struck again which caused you to blow the tissue right out of your hands…

“Idiot… come here.” Grabbing your hand, Bakugou stood you both up and lead you to his bed.

“Sit”

Doing as he commanded you sat on his bed. Getting comfortable on the bed you felt a warm blanket being wrapped around your shoulders with him climbing in the bed with you. Flicking on the TV, Bakugou sat on his bed with you until… BOOM…

The lights went out.

You froze unable to move.

“Fucking kidding me!!!! Dammit! Hold on, stay here. I’ll be right back.”

…You weren’t going to go anywhere… You were still paralyzed.

Leaving the room, Bakugou was quick to come back.

You heard low crackling noises, he was using his quirk, and soon there was light in the room. Using his quirk, Bakugou lit a few candles and placed them in his room.

“You’re staying here tonight by the way. It’s too bad out for to go home, and since my parents aren’t home to drive you this is the best thing. Now scoot over.”

“Eh? Katsu, I can’t i need to go home or my parents-”

“Shut the hell up! I said you’re staying here! Who’s going to look after you tonight with this storm? Dammit! Just let me just be your personal hero tonight! GOT IT?”

You wish you had your phone next to you. Bakugou’s legs were shaking, one of his hands covered his mouth, and his face was redder than deadpool’s costume. He was in total shock that he just spat that out of his mouth.

“Not one fucking word, ___.”

Walking over to you with his legs out goofy, he joined you in his bed. Smacking his hand on your forehead, Bakugou forceully pushed you down on the bed and flipped you so you were on your side. Curling up with his little spoon, Bakugou wrapped his arm around your waist.

Whenever thunder struck he could feel you shake against him, he was trying so hard to think of something that would calm you down and finally, he had an idea.

“Hey… Listen. You’ve said before that you like my quirk, right?”- He moved the hand around your waist to your face, raising it a little so it wouldn’t cause harm, his hand started to spark with mini explosions.- “Think of the thunder as my quirk… Listen to it.”

You closed your eyes and listened in, and when the thunder struck you could hear the similarities.

“Sounda kind of like it, right?”

You nodded your head, eyes still shut, listening.

“Whenever you hear thunder, just think of me…”

Thunder struck again and you didn’t jump or tremble, instead… when you heard the noise, you pictured Katsu protecting you from bad guys… and soon… your thoughts had become a dream as you drifted off to sleep in Bakugou’s arms.

Stopping his quirks tiny explosions, Bakugou smirked to himself as he heard your soft breathing.

“Goodnight ya cute little idiot. I’ll always be here to protect you…”

~ Love Ya Boi Kiwi xoxo

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awholeotherlevel · 5 years

Text

Crime Diary-Chapter 3

By Camille Scott

After work, I took the bus to the address that Kenji had given me. It turned out to be a gold shop. I was bewildered. Plum said that I wouldn’t have to sell the locket. I hadn’t even brought it with me. It was too late to try to catch a bus all the way home, just to get the necklace. I decided to keep the appointment. If nothing else, I’d just have to go back the next day.

The inside of the gold shop didn’t look much better than the outside. It was an antiquated storefront space with scratched glass cases running from one wall to the other, along three walls. The hardwood floors were stained and worn uneven by years of foot traffic. I was beginning to have doubts about Kenji. It didn’t look as though he had the finances to buy any of the hulking buildings on my books.

I told myself not to get my hopes up or get too bent out of shape, if things didn’t pan out. Push come to shove, I could still pawn the locket. An elderly Japanese woman in a flowered dress was standing behind the left counter, holding up a gold bracelet for a customer to admire.

I approached them and waited for a pause in the conversation. The customer was a tall, emaciated looking guy with big, showy rings on four fingers of his right hand. I could probably pay my rent with just one of those rings and have plenty left over for groceries.

When he laughed, gold teeth flashed in the front of his mouth. My eyes drifted down to the thick, fourteen carat gold rope bracelet hanging from his bony wrist, then over to the smart phone strapped to his belt. He was leaning on an alligator skin briefcase. Definitely a drug dealer.

The woman eventually glanced in my direction and I told her that I had an appointment with Kenji She gave me the once over, turned towards the sheet covering the doorway to the rear of the store, and yelled something in her native tongue. I shifted uneasily, as her eyes raked across my face once more.

My nervous smile had no effect on her. She dismissively turned back to her customer. A moment later, Kenji emerged from behind the dusty sheet. I was surprised at how young he looked. He was skinny, but otherwise resembled the woman so closely that she had to be his mother.

When Kenji smiled, he looked even younger. He offered his hand and I shook it. Tattoos peeked out from underneath his long-sleeved shirt, when he extended his hand. I remember thinking how they contradicted his overall appearance. Kenji looked like a college student. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his flat nose enhanced the impression.

“I-I have some pictures of the properties that I felt would best suit your needs,” I stammered, handing over the printouts. A few tense moments passed, while he inspected the photographs. The man with the gold teeth began looking at an assortment of gold rings.

“Can show me these properties tomorrow,” Kenji asked.

“Huh? Oh, sure I can. What time works best for you?”

The appointment was set for the following afternoon. I left feeling elated. Not only would the commission on any one of the properties pay my rent for several months, it would help me regain some of my boss David Canfield’s confidence in me. Unloading one of my rundown properties might even raise me a few notches in his estimation.

Maybe I could get enough of an advance to cover my current rent and utilities. I hastily reminded myself not to get too excited. Kenji hadn’t seen the actual building yet. There was a big difference between a grainy snapshot and the real thing.

I went home and took the fire escape up to my apartment, not wishing to bump into my landlord until I had cash in hand. He knew that payday had come and gone. Needless to say, I didn’t get any sleep that night. By morning, I was a bundle of nerves.

Kenji arrived at the appointed time and drove us to the buildings in his gold sport utility vehicle. I held my breath, when he leaned forward and looked through the windshield at the first old house. Kenji explained that he was looking to purchase a few homes to rehab and turn into section eight rental properties. He didn’t say much during the tours. His face was expressionless, but I could see his eyes taking note of everything.

I trailed behind him, as he moved from room to room. We went to my office and Kenji retrieved a briefcase from the trunk of his car. He wanted to buy all three of the houses we toured! It took every ounce of willpower not to leap from my seat and dance around my cubicle.

He wanted to start the transaction immediately and I was only too happy to oblige him. It would be nice to look my landlord in the eye, when I paid him. I decided to spend my entire commission on rent and utilities. A couple of months to breathe, without worrying about those bills would seem like a vacation. I drew up the paperwork and began filling in the necessary information.

“How would you like to pay for the property,” I asked.

“I’m paying with cash,” came the cool reply.

My hand froze over the keyboard. Perhaps I hadn’t heard him correctly. Altogether, the houses cost over two hundred thousand dollars. My confused mind scrabbled for an explanation. I decided that he must have meant that he wanted to make the down payment in cash.

“You mean you’re making a cash down payment?”

“No, I want to pay for the properties today in cash. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Well, I...it’s just that I’ve never had anyone offer to pay such a large amount in cash before. Let me clear it with my boss.”

I rose, trying to ignore the sinking sensation dampening my mood. Mr. Canfield’s door was closed, so I knocked softly. He bellowed permission for me to enter. I opened the door on an office that hadn’t seen a new piece of furniture since the seventies. Everything was orange and avocado green.

He was in his shirt-sleeves pouring over ledgers. I hated talking to the man, while he was working on the books. It always made him surly. Not that he was ever really in a good mood, when I talked to him. I got right to the point and to my astonishment, not only did he grant permission for the transaction, he praised me.

His bulldog features actually softened into something that closely resembled a smile. He followed me back to cubicle and introduced himself to Kenji. Mr. Canfield accepted the payment and I finished the paperwork. Kenji walked out with the bill of sale and I got my commission in cash.

Being able to pay my bills felt nice. So, why did I still feel so empty? I climbed into bed Friday evening and slept until Saturday afternoon. That’s when my cell phone rang. It was Plum with an invitation to lunch. She knew it was short notice, but could I join her? Plum’s relief sounded genuine, when I accepted the invitation.

My apartment looked like a tornado hit it, by the time I settled on an outfit. Rather than let Plum see how I lived, I waited for her downstairs. My nosy neighbor Mrs. Phelps just happened to be leaning out of her first floor window. She was always riveted to that spot. The woman must have slept standing up, with her nose pressed against the glass.

I had the pleasure of informing her that I was waiting for a friend. Naturally, the suspicious old bat didn’t believe me. Plum did not arrive at the appointed time and I felt myself beginning to panic. What if she had just been toying with me?

The thought of her ending the call and laughing made me cringe. In that instant, I became a miserable, friendless child once more. Maybe telling my neighbor that Plum was coming had been a mistake. She would never let me live it down. I looked over at her creased face and those greedy little eyes crawled all over my face.

“When did you say your uh...friend was coming dear?”

“She should be here any minute now.”

Just then, Plum’s purple Mercedes pulled up to the curb. I threw Ms. Phelps a triumphant smile and took my leave of her. I took my time walking to the car, my back getting straighter with every step. By that same time the next day, Mrs. Phelps would have notified the entire neighborhood about Plum.

I realized that I would do anything to hold onto my new friend. It was a reckless thought that quickly got pushed to the back of my mind. I don’t know what was more disturbing, the thought that I would sacrifice everything to stay friends with her or the knowledge that I couldn’t stop myself from doing it, if I tried. After all, Plum probably had hundreds of rich, influential friends.

What did I have to offer her with no money and no power? I had only the same deep, abiding devotion that my mother offered up to my father. Of course, that’s no less than what a woman like Plum demands. Looking back on our relationship, I realize that is what made it work; I worshipped Plum and she graciously accepted my adoration.

The rest of the month was blissful. Plum called me every day and we hung out together, when her busy schedule permitted. To someone who never had a friend before, the feeling was indescribable. She eclipsed my life. I was willing to go to absurd lengths just to make her laugh. If I said something that displeased her in any way, I couldn’t sleep until I made things right.

I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. It was not physical attraction that made longing well up in me, until it caught in my throat. I’m not sure I can make you understand. To a certain extent, everyone longs to possess a thing of beauty whether it’s a person, a work of art, a precious jewel or something else. It is gratifying to feast your eyes upon it. For those moments, your troubles seem far away.

That’s what it’s like to be around Plum. She was beautiful and intelligent with a killer sense of humor. Plum had a way of looking directly at you and seeing you for who you are, underneath your public persona. She also had a way of tilting her elegant head to the side while you talked to her and nodding with the sweetest smile slowly spreading across her face. You feel important, because she’s drinking in every word.

I won’t even attempt to describe her laugh, except to say that it assures you that you are the wittiest person on earth. The combination of so many pleasing elements is quite bewitching. I was torn between never wanting to let to let Plum out of my sight and wanting to trade places with her. Adoration and jealousy were constantly at war inside of me.

My life now had purpose. Instead of dreading lonely evenings, I looked forward to nightly contact with her. She was my passport to a world that had previously been off-limits. I’m almost ashamed to admit literally sitting by the phone. Waiting for it to ring was agonizing. Imagine offering a cool drink to someone dying of thirst. What can I say? I was extremely thirsty.

Things weren’t all sweetness and light though. My relief at feeling vital after walking around numb was tempered by frustration. The more I saw of her life, the more jealousy chipped away at me. Why did Plum get to be beautiful, popular, and successful?

I was a good person. At least, I tried to be. Didn’t I deserve some modicum of success? The unfairness of it all caught in my throat. I felt guilty all of the time, because my feelings for Plum were deepening. It was undeniable though, I wanted power with the naked desire that only the downtrodden can feel.

#story story blogger occult paranormal writer writing

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ichiroutas-other-eye · 7 years

Text

Kazemaru Ichirouta: a Study in Character

That title might or might not be a Sherlock reference. Oh well.

Anyway, I love this boy so much and I’d love to share some of my thoughts about him and his character development with you! :D All right, let’s get started!

So I was rewatching Episode 70 ( “The Cursed Coach” ) from IE original series, the one where the team is worried because they believe Kudou is aiming at their defeat since it seems like he’s mistreating some of the players.

One of them is Kazemaru.

During practice, Kazemaru finds himself cornered by Midorikawa, Kogure and Hiroto. He’s unsure about what to do so when Kidou gives him orders he immediately does as he said.

After a while, coach Kudou stops them and starts scolding both Kabeyama and Kazemaru; Kabeyama because he wasn’t running but just standing there, and Kazemaru for following Kidou’s orders.

He uses some quite harsh words. Now we know that he was doing that just to help them, but for Kazemaru it must have been quite hard to understand why he was scolding him; after all, following Kidou’s orders is something everyone always does (since he is their gamemaker) and also he was putting a lot of efforts in pratice so he was very upset after hearing Kudou’s words.

If that wasn’t enough, the following day Fudou goes hard on him with a sliding and Kudou just compliments him, without caring about Kazemaru who got hurt after falling on the ground.

‘Are you unable to play decently without Kidou’s orders?’ is like saying ‘You’re not good enough on your own.’ or ‘You’re not strong enough.’

Now, remember that Kazemaru is very frail. He is always doubting himself and he feels like he’s not enough and well... just consider what happened during the Aliea arc.

Hearing those words from the coach must have hurt him a lot. He wanted to do well and was trying very hard and knowing that that just wasn’t enough put him in a very bad mood.

We can see that in the following days he has always a sad face, looking all troubled.

When they have dinner at Rairariken,

when Hiroto confronts Endou about Kudou’s behaviour and the captain just dismisses it with ‘Oh don’t worry he’s just trying to help us improve’ and that might have been true, but Kazemaru probably needed a bit of comfort then.

Even when Fudou was about to charge him, we can see him running while looking all serious.

However, despite all this, he didn’t give up this time. He kept working hard and at a certain point he must have talked with Endou about the situation! In fact, when Kabeyama is upset and doesn’t want get out of his room we get this scene:

It feels like they talked about that and when Kazemaru hears Kabeyama is upset, he knows exacly what's going on (since he feels the same but-- he won’t let that take him down this time) (squad mom) and just says Endou’s name to make sure he knows what is happening to Kabeyama. And obviously Endou knows, he is our amazing captain after all (and those two kinda communicate through telepathy so it’s not a surprise) (sorry).

Then they find out about Kudou’s past etc. but now we have to skip forward to episode 94: the match against The Empire.

That match was very important for everyone’s development since without the captain and the Teikoku trio they had to do everything on their own and they overcame all the obstacles and got stronger. I always wondered why Kazemaru didn’t take part in that all-team-development but then I realised: his development took place a bit earlier than the rest of the team’s. Actually, we had already seen some of it during episode 70 but Kaze was still very unsure of himself. It’s true that he didn’t give up but he was very troubled anyway.

When right before the match they find out Endou and the others haven’t got home yet, Kazemaru suddenly has to take decisions and he is put in charge. Everyone is relying on him, even Gouenji! and he has a lot of responsabilites all of a sudden. (eh Kaze, being the captain’s boyfriend might be difficult at times... sorry again)

Kazemaru is not used to all this. Usually he follows what other people say-- I heard him ask the question ‘What should we do, Endou?’ about a billion times. He relies on others and doesn’t like to be the one in charge. Yes, he is very reliable anyway- but he prefers to follow other people, instead of giving orders.

So when suddenly he is put in front of such a huge decision, he is quite scared.

He stays silent for a while, thinking. Everyone is waiting for him to take a decision--! and he is very anxious about that.

But then, there he goes!! Finally, he gets to a solution. It is very hard for him to spit it out (I don’t know about you but I felt such a huge pressure during this scene... like he was having a very hard time.), but when he manages to gain enough confidence to communicate his decision, he goes for it.

There you go, boy!! I’m so proud of you. Anyway, this is where it begins-- his trial towards a big self-development phase.

When they get to the stadium, he is still hoping for Endou and the others to show up. However, there’s not time left, and he has, again, to take a decision, the most important one: should they play in the match or not? His confidence and determination from before seems to have faded.

He’s very, very scared. He’s about to give up... all those responsibilties are gonna crush him. He tried, and tried, but in the end, he’s not strong enough to do it. That’s what must have gone through his brain in that moment.

But then, someone arrives to save him!! No, not Endou, but the best psychologist of the team... Gouenji!

Thanks for not hitting him with your Fire Tornado, Gouenji. We can’t lose that beautiful face so soon.

Gouenji reminds him his duty as a captain, and cheers him up. He saves the day. It’s also (mostly) thanks to him if Kazemaru was able to pick himself up and make another step towards his self-development. Gouenji is really a precious character, helps everyone when they’re troubled (like he did for Fubuki). As I said, best psychologist of the team.

After that, Kazemaru is ready to take on the role of captain.

He even had to choose the team formation since the coach wasn’t there either. Another responsability to add to the pile, but he’s not as scared as before. He finds the strenght to encourage his teammates despite the anxiety and pressure he was still feeling, just like a true captain (or Endou, which is the same thing) would do.

During the match he wasn’t able to see what was the problem with the team (thanks Hiroto for covering up for him. He has still a lot to learn as a captain eheh. But he did well anyway.), however he didn’t lose hope even after The Empire had scored two goals. He kept running and working hard! He didn’t give up this time. He stopped an action that was probably going to end with a goal...

...but he got injured.

HOWEVER, despite the pain, despite the pressure, despite everything!, he didn’t forget his responsibility as a captain and sent Kurimatsu on the field with these words.

The rest of the team started working harder to cover up for him too, and they all got stronger, while Kazemaru was on the bench... but he was a different person. He had just overcome one of the biggest obstacles of his life: his extreme lack of confidence and self-esteem.

He still had a long way to go, but I’m so proud of him for what he did on that match. He is so strong and I wish he knew that too!♡

It’s amazing to see he had such a huge character development... it wasn’t as visible as some other characters’ but it was there! It makes me so happy!

If you have an opinion about this character let me know, I just love reading about him :))

#inazuma eleven #kazemaru ichirouta #a character analysis I've been wanting to share for a while.#sorry if my english is not so good mmm #and lots of love for kaze #♡beautiful boy #mine

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the-librarians · 4 years

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Lost Along the Way

Chapter 1: What’s in a Name?

(.gif credit to evanstush)

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale/OFC

Warnings: It’s the Ransom!Amnesia fic you never knew you wanted. Minor mentions of car accidents, injuries and blood. Linda Drysdale is a cold ass bitch in this.

Word count: 2,783

Author’s note: Big THANK YOU to my bestie and muse @waywardodysseys who has been an encouraging and patient woman while I took my time writing this.

AO3 Friendly Version: click here

Summary: Ransom Drysdale, out on bail, decides to skip town. Taking off on a secret boat, he sails down the Massachusetts coast when a freak storm forces him to dock in a small coast town in Rhode Island. The storm ends up taking something precious from him only to give him something even more precious in return.

“Now you listen to me Ransom, it is just you and me now. Your father is no longer in the picture.” Linda Thrombey (not Drysdale, as her divorce was currently being fast-tracked thanks to her lawyers) downed her three fingers of scotch in one gulp, “I can forgive this whole murder nonsense and I will help you out as much as I can as long as you listen to me and not do anything stupid.” Her index finger tapped out a staccato rhythm on the now empty scotch glass in her hand.

Ransom sat in his leather armchair close to the window, aloof and barely listening to the words his mother was saying. He may have caught every other word of his mother’s rant and that was being generous. His bored blue eyes followed Linda’s figure as she paced around his living room. “We will figure this out. I still have plenty of money and connections. My lawyers are just as good as your grandfathers. I certainly pay them enough.” Linda refused to say Marta’s lawyers since they were now in fact Marta’s lawyers and not Harlan’s. Her pacing continued.

A huffed sigh pushed its way out of Ransom’s lungs, “why don’t you have another drink, mother?” He lazily gestured to the wet bar in the corner of the room. His mother shot him a hot glare and all but slammed her glass on the coffee table, “don’t you get smart with me, young man.” Ransom’s response was just a blank stare in her direction.

She crossed the room, finger accusatory in his direction, “I bailed your ass out of jail and I am doing what I can to keep you out of jail. I am barely keeping what’s left of our family together after that little latino slut took what was rightfully ours. Like I said, I can forgive what you did because you were doing what you could to get our fortune back. Although I don’t agree with your methods. So you better show me some goddamn respect, son.”

Ransom sat up, straightened his posture and plastered on a fake grateful smile, “Sorry mother, thank you mother.” But his expression fell back to one of bored contempt which caused Linda to roll her eyes.

Mother and son sat in silence until Linda’s phone rang. She excused herself into another room briefly before returning, “okay, that was our lawyer. Your hearing is next week and that will determine if you get sentenced or they take it to trial, but whatever happens, I will take care of it.” Linda eyed the scotch at the wet bar considering another quick drink before she left but ultimately decided against it. “Now, until then, stay home and don’t do anything stupid! Do you understand me?” She collected her belongings, pocketing her phone back into her purse all while eyeing her son expectantly.

Ransom stood, walking Linda to the front door, “Yes mother, of course mother, whatever you say mother.” His tone was mocking and sarcastic. His mother turned to him, as she stood under the threshold of the door. She gave him a small solemn smile as her hand came to his cheek. There she caressed the beauty mark on the left half of his face, stared into the eyes of her only son and said, “I should have aborted you when I had the chance.” Linda patted his cheek and walked to her car only to hear her son yell from behind her, “I love you too, mother.”

He watched the car fade out of sight and slammed the door. Yeah, there was no way in hell he was sticking around here. Luckily, Ransom was a lot like his grandfather Harlan. More so in the aspect of, he always thought ahead and always had a back-up plan. Down to his basement he went. He kicked open a secret panel he had installed and hidden under the stairs. There he pulled out a black duffel bag and emptied the contents on the floor.

Ransom organized everything on the floor as he checked off his mental checklist out loud.

Fake IDs and passports? Check.

Sealed bags of cash equaling out to $250,000? Check.

Burner cell phones? Check.

Keys to the boat he bought last month that no one knows about? Check.

.380 handgun with the serial numbers filed down? (Just in case) Check.

All he needed to do now was pack and escape unseen to his boat. One could liken him to a tornado with how fast he was running around his house. He packed up his designer leather duffel bag with everything he knew he needed that wasn’t already on his boat. While packing his toiletries in his shaving bag, he looked at himself in the mirror. Ransom took note of his features. He looked tired but he already knew this and felt it. Blue eyes drifted up to his hair. Should he dye it or maybe shave it? His hair was unmistakable and his best feature. A grimace crosses his face as he decides against it. He figures if he got far enough away on his boat it wouldn’t matter.

It takes Ransom a few solid hours to make sure everything is perfect and ready to go. He hears his phone chime a few times (messages from his mother no doubt), all of which he ignores. He eats the last meal he will have in his home while Frank Sinatra croons lowly in the background. Sitting in his favorite chair by the window, his tired eyes roam the open floor plan of his home. Ransom tries to commit everything to memory because while he was literally about to leave this all behind, this was still his home. Briefly, and only for a fraction of a second he considers burning the place down but ultimately decides against it. That would be too dramatic, even for him.

The two duffel bags are waiting for him by the back door. Ransom leaves his house keys, car keys and cell phone on the kitchen table. Should he leave a note for his mother and get the final word in? Or was that too smug? He shrugged.

Under cover of darkness with bags in hand, Ransom took a long look at his home. Knowing this was the last time he would ever lay eyes on it, he whispered to his home, “see you never.”

The fall air was crisp and the autumn leaves crunched under his feet as they carried him into the woods behind his home where hidden under a tarp in the trees sat his getaway car. It was a used up old beater he would never be caught dead in; which is exactly why he bought it the same day he bought his boat. Both purchases in cash and under a fake name.

The drive to the secluded marina where his boat was docked was long and arduous. He didn’t take any chances. Back roads were taken to avoid all toll roads where cameras could possibly pick up his face. Although his cautious efforts should have eased his paranoia, he remained vigilant: white knuckled grip on the steering wheel and laser focused on the dark road ahead of him.

Arriving shortly after midnight, the dock was just off the town of Duxbury. Ransom parked the car in an abandoned lot. He wiped down the interior and keys the best he could. Leaving the car unlocked with the keys in the ignition, he figured someone would steal the car eventually. He trekked the last few blocks on foot to the dock which he happily found devoid of anyone else. There were no security cameras to be seen, which is the exact reason he chose this dock.

The boat was prepped, his belongings safely inside and Ransom was feeling a little more relaxed already. He cast off and once he was a safe distance out in the bay, he sat down with his map and planned his route. By his calculations, once he was out of the main bay of Cape Cod, he could sail down the coast towards Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard, maybe making a pitstop in Chatham to refuel and stock up on necessities.

Ransom sat back in the cabin and sighed, more of the paranoia and worry was sloughing off his shoulders; he could breathe a little easier. Not wanting to declare himself home free just yet, he got to work on the last bits of his plan. The burner phones were programmed and set for weather alerts as well as news reports. He knew it was only a matter of time that he would be discovered missing but at least he could get a good day or two head start. While he knew that his case and family drama was at the forefront of Massachusetts news, he gambled on the fact that even then, it wasn’t enough to make it to national news. So when the news of his ultimate disappearance did come to light, it would stay localized within the state leaving him safe to travel down the coast.

He was able to make it safely to Chatham with no issues. Ransom was about an hour off the coast of Nantucket Island when the first news alert hit. Just like he thought, it was only reported on the local news outlets.

The noon day sun was hanging overhead. He was laid out on the stern of the ship with a book in hand letting the slow rocking of the boat lull him into a relaxed and peaceful state. The chapter in his book was coming to its penultimate conclusion when the phones in the cabin started blaring with alarms. The storm warning alerts were screaming at him. According to the alerts he was headed straight into a horrendous looking storm. Well shit, he thought.

The storm was two miles off the coast of New Shoreham. The GPS told him he was in Rhode Island waters and too far out to make it to Newport. However he was close enough to the coast town of Galilee to dock just as the storm was hitting. He didn’t like how close he was cutting it but he had no choice.

He was a mile off the coast when the Point Judith Lighthouse light came into view. The wind was churning the sea and whipping hard against the sides of his boat. If he didn’t know any better, he could have sworn the storm was chasing him down specifically. By the time Ransom made it to the nearest waterfront and got his boat docked and tied down, the rain was beating down on him. There was no way he could wait this storm out on the boat, the amount of rocking alone was making him sick to his stomach. According to his phone there was a motel less than a mile up the road. He was going to risk it.

Ransom secured all his belongings in the cabin and tied everything down tight. Pocketing some of the getaway cash he had on hand, he sealed it along with his fake ID in a waterproof bag tucking it safely away on his person. He watched the sky carefully, waiting for any momentary break in the rain, whether it slowed or stopped briefly he didn’t care. It would allow him to safely get off the dock and onto the main road outside the marina.

Shooting his shot when the rain slowed, he made his way off the dock with great care. Without the use of his phone’s GPS guiding him Ransom made his way to what he thought was the main road. Once there, he took great care to stick to the side of the road as there was no visible sidewalk due to it being completely flooded from the rain. The wind and rain began to pick up again and beat hard against his now soaked body. He felt as though he was being bitch slapped by thousands of needles because of the unholy mixture of heavy rain and fast winds.

Although mindful of the oncoming traffic in his direction, he was unaware of how close the wind had pushed him into the road. Ransom was too busy wiping rain out of his eyes to see the car that was headed in his direction. The sound of the car horn that was mere feet away from him was drowned out by the sound of thunder in the sky above.

His vision swam blurry with bright lights, only for him to realize at the last second he was about to be hit by the car. His body reacted before his brain did, fight or flight kicked in. Ransom Drysdale leapt to the left, off the side of the road, with the car missing a full body collision against him by a fraction of a second. While still midair, having not yet touched the ground, he was thankful that he was about to make it out unscathed.

Only, he thought too soon. What he didn’t see as he was falling, was the guardrail his head was about to connect with. The sickening crack of his skull and the twanging sound of the metal guardrail were muted by the rain.

Everything was black. His face felt wet but it felt both hot and cold which he found odd. The ringing in his ears was prevalent. Heavy eyelids began to flutter open, visually surveying the situation before him. Looking down at his clothes he noted that he was not only soaking wet but he was also lying in a puddle that seemed to be getting bigger. Looking up, it dawned on him that it was raining. Pretty hard, in fact. Okay then, I am in a puddle in the middle of a rainstorm. He concluded.

Feeling around him, his wet hands met with the solid object behind him. It was a guardrail. Alright, so I am in a puddle on the side of a road in the middle of a rainstorm. Fantastic. Gripping the rail behind him and using it as leverage he was able to stand up straight. His clothes were thick and heavy with mud and water. His brain was finally starting to catch up with the rest of his body due to the fact he was starting to feel a sharp and awful pain in his head.

He was too busy trying to figure out where he was and what happened to him to notice the car that was coming straight for him. The car swerved to the right and skidded to a slippery halt in the middle of the road. He stared at the car for a moment, his head tilted in confusion. He watched it intently as it safely pulled off to the side of the road in front of him. The car door opened moments later, a large purple umbrella opening up effectively shielding the woman who was now running towards him.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” She shouted, trying to make her voice heard over the storm. She quickly brought him under her large umbrella and began to survey him for injuries, “what on earth are you doing out in the road in the middle of a storm like this?” She looks as confused as he feels. Is she scolding him? It certainly feels like it.

“I don’t know.” He answers her truthfully. He really has no idea why he is out in this storm or even where he is. Suddenly he feels her hand on his chin, pulling his head down and to the side, “sir, you are bleeding really badly from your head!” She can’t tell how badly or what the true damage is because of all the mud. The woman is significantly shorter than him so he begins to bend at the knees effectively bringing himself down to her height so she can examine his head better.

He takes note of her furrowed eyebrows and the concern plastered all over her face. Once his chin is released from her grip and he has returned to his natural posture she asks him a question he should very easily know the answer to, “what’s your name?”

He goes to answer but his mind is drawing a complete blank, “my name?” He squints, his head cocks to the side and his nose begins to wrinkle. He’s hoping in some strange way that the facial movements would jog his memory. Nope. Zip, zilch and nada.

He stares at the woman in front of him, this nice woman shielding him from the storm under her purple umbrella and says, “I don’t know what my name is.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x ofc #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #knives out #ransom thrombey fanfic

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youremmazhangblogstuff-blog · 5 years

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Reminiscences from the Past that Never Happened: When I was a Kid

Childhood is the happiest time in a person’s life: it is the time of discoveries, fun, fearlessness, and adventures. The following stories are the childhood memories of an ordinary person whose name is Jackie. In them, she shares the most precious and extraordinary episodes from her childhood, full of imagination, excitement, and, sometimes, even fear. By sharing these memories with the readers, Jackie wants to remind everyone about the state of freedom and carelessness.

The Little Ghost

Have you ever seen a ghost? Alright, let me ask another way. Have you ever believed in ghosts? When I was a child, my mother’s stories about witches and spirits who were to come to the house of a naughty girl who did not want to eat soup and porridge made everything inside me tremble like a kite signalizing the approaching tornado. However, as I grew up, the tornado turned into a light wind, and my mother found it more and more challenging to use fairy tales as an effective method of persuasion. I would giggle and shake my head every time she brought up ghost stories.

I continued to think that some fairy godmother would bring me a new version of my favorite video game for the coming New Year. However, everything changed when I was twelve years old. Well, I still do not believe that ghosts exist around us. I know they do.

It was Saturday evening. I heard the front door bang with a deafening sound, and my mother’s voice cautioning me to behave. It was not the first time I had to spend some time enjoying the beauty of solitude, but it was the first time when I had to spend the whole night as the only living soul in the house.

By midnight, I had watched movies, played video games, and read magazines I didn’t care for. I had grown weary of staring at the wall and my watch. Thus, I went to bed and dropped into sleep almost instantly, as if I had had a hard training and had passed at least a dozen of different exams during the day. The feeling of sleepiness was heavy and sticky like quicksand. The dreams were changing like TV programs when you nervously flipped channels searching for something worth watching. Bang! Suddenly my body shook as if it had fallen from a considerable height. The room was empty and silent: my parents had not returned from the party yet. However, there was one change in it: the door which I had closed before going to bed was slightly opened. As I was watching it, the split was becoming wider and wider. My heart was beating like a rock-drill that was trying to break my ribs from inside. I attempted to shout but, instead of a loud cry, my throat managed to produce silence exclusively: not a word, not a sound, just silence. My body was out of control: no muscle in it could move; I just had the feeling that someone had dropped a hundred pillows on me.

Meanwhile, the door was opening, inch by inch, without any sound. When the door was half open, I distinctly saw a boy in the doorway: he was of my age, tall, robust, with short dark hair, and… His eyes… there was something strange with them.

They were as if made of ice: they had no color and were exuding some light. The boy and I were gazing at each other for some seconds, and just when I attempted to open my mouth and ask him who he was, Bang! I dropped into sleep again like a baby.

When I woke up in the morning, my parents were already home. I did not tell them anything knowing no one would ever believe me. Even if they knew something about this boy, who would ever tell me the truth? Well, I still hope that my night guest will tell me it himself one day. Perhaps, this time, I have to leave my door open.

Granny’s Face

In the modern world, people have got used to the idea that any wrinkles and fine lines are the main enemies of a person’s beauty, and the cosmetics industry provides us with a vast choice of different fluids, creams, and masks that are expected to stop the flow of time and make a person young forever. When I was a teenager, I also thought that the smallest fine line is the first step to aging, and that made my heart to skip a beat. In such moments, I would recant my grandmother’s words: “A person’s face is a map.”

I believe I am alone because my parents have gone to church. However, I wake up hearing the hum of voices and feeling the sweet aroma of pastry from the kitchen. Granny has come! I forget to wear my slippers and run to the kitchen barefoot. I try to tip-toe into the kitchen, but my granny hears my steps and starts smiling. She is still energetic, but she has many wrinkles and fine lines that cover her face like a spider web.

Every time my granny says something smiles, or becomes thoughtful, the pattern of fine lines changes making the granny’s face look different. The only thing that remains unchangeable is her kind glance. When I was small, I used to ask the grandmother why there were so many fine lines on her face, and she always replied that a person’s face was their life map, and everyone was responsible for what was written there. Fine lines, wrinkles, scars, and sunspots were like rivers and mountains on the globe each of them having their unique history and demonstrating all the moments of happiness, laughter, sorrow, and pain the person experienced during their life journey. The sunlight is shining on the granny’s face. The fine lines in the corners of her eyes become more expressive as she squints. They remind me of the branches of an old tree that has withstood many storms and winds and still blooms every spring. The fine lines in the corners of the granny’s mouth demonstrate that she has laughed much, and the wrinkles on her forehead remind of all the losses and difficult decisions she has faced. I study the granny’s face as if it is a book in which all her biography is written. The feeling of immense happiness ripens in me like a flower.

Much time has passed since the days when I ran to the kitchen barefoot hearing the granny’s voice. Much time has passed since I studied the face of this woman with interest and excitement, trying to guess what each line on her face meant.

Now, I have another map – The face I see in the mirror every day. Currently, there are not so many signs and marks on it but, every time I look at it, I remember the words of my granny.

Whatever modern beauty standards try to impose on me, I do not want my map to look like a blank sheet of paper. I want it to be bright, detailed, and expressive so that every line on it reflects my soul.

My New Bedroom

One of the most memorable moments of my childhood was when I got my bedroom. I was seven years old. I believed I was old enough to sleep by myself. I soon found out that this was not the case.

"Jackie, do you have your bedroom or do you still sleep in your brother's bedroom like a little girl, "asked one of my cousins when I went to visit my aunt.

I dropped the doll that was in my hand and stared at the floor vaguely. After around ten minutes, I was finally able to respond. "I want to go home." I ran out of her bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I don't remember saying goodbye to my aunt. When I got home, I was panting heavily, my soles were sore, and my knees felt weak. I ran straight into my bed and buried my head in the blankets to soak the tears that were almost blinding me.

"Sweetheart, why are your eyes swollen? Why is your face so pink?"

"Mommy, I want my bedroom. I am old enough to sleep on my own."

"Okay."

That afternoon, my mother cleaned one of the rooms downstairs and turned it into my bedroom. The blue bed stood out. It had a red bed cover that matched the color of the roses that my mother had painted on the wall. On the other side of the room, there was a blue dressing table whose color matched the color of the bed.

When my mother called me to see the room, I could not believe that I had my bedroom. I ran to her and hugged her with tears flowing out of my eyes once again.

However, my mood changed when my mother switched off the light that evening and kissed me goodnight. I cannot recall whether I had been tossing in the bed for an hour or two. Suddenly, I noticed that there was a creepy shadow on the wall opposite the window.

The shadow swayed from side to side and grew bigger by the minute. I covered my head with my blanket. I wanted to be still, but I could not since my body was shivering. I bit my lower lip and closed my eyes tightly, waiting for whatever formed the shadow to come and take me away. After some time, I realized that the monster had not appeared. I lowered the blanket to peep at the wall. Now, the shadow covered a large portion of the wall and was shaking violently. Oh no, not today!

"Mommy! Come quickly! It is going to swallow me!"

"Sweetheart, there is no monster in your room…"

She did not get to complete her sentence since I hit her as I jumped into her bed for safety.

"I think I will continue sleeping in Victor's room until I turn eight. Then I will move into my room because I will be able to strong enough to fight the monster then. "

"No, you will not move back into your brothers' room. You can sleep in my bed today. Each night I will leave your lights on until you are sound asleep."

"Thanks, mommy. But let me sleep with the lights on the whole night because the monster is afraid of the light."

"Sweetheart, monsters do not exist."

As I opened the front door leading to the compound early the next morning, I noticed that the big tree in the backyard grew near my bedroom's window.

"The monster must have been hiding in that tree last night," I thought to myself, "I will ask mommy to cut down the tree. I must get rid of the monster." I dashed into their bedroom.

#monster

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jj-ktae · 7 years

Text

Tipsy Love (1/2)

Title : Tipsy Love

Genre : Drama / Angst-ish / Fluff

Author : Myself

Pairing : Jackson Wang x Reader

Summary : You have one bad addiction. Jackson is an instructor in a center for people with health problems and bad mental state. How will the addiction acts upon the two of them ? Will your forsaken self be able to change your mental state ?

It’s a One-shot. Part two will be up very soon ;)

PART 1

The street was crowded. Clouds were everywhere, like a ticking bomb over the salarymen's heads. Seoul is a huge city. Each person is only a tiny little part of the human presence in the island. One's goal is the same as his neighbors’. There's only one within four millions of men, women.

No wonder you felt so empty.

It was 4 A.M, and you were trying to walk down the alley leading to your house (you weren’t sure if it was the good street though). Your evening had been calm and filled with clouded memories of countless glasses scattered around the bar of your brother's pub. The sound of glass, and the noisy people around you, telling it was just okay to drink too much, since tomorrow you wouldn't even remember a thing, and gather the courage to speak to the beautiful man watching you with deep, dark envy. Like a vivid dream printed in your mind, you could only remember some parts of that big, insane moment of your life. Another one.

Life could be so useless sometimes. You hated how you just wanted to jump out of the first window after these evenings of false happiness and joy. It's not like you couldn't do anything about it though. You loved it, every aspect of it. Only, the aftermath was just hell.

As you passed by a little store, you finally recognize the big, white building in front of you.

''Finally...." Was all you could say before opening the big door, (after almost five minutes of looking for the good keys.) You had always wondered why you had so many, since your apartment had only two locks.

It's not like you cared right now anyway.

As soon as you entered the stifling flat, you felt it.

The nausea.

You ran to the toilet and emptied herself in the cabinet. You felt everything leave your stomach. Like a tornado twirling your organs, a fire burning your lungs, everything was going out in an endless spurt. This was the worst for you. When reality dawned upon you. When alcohol left your body. When gloom took the place of giggles and glassy smiles.

You couldn't stand up, you just couldn't. How many more days will you have to live to finally realize that you were ruining everything? But you couldn't do anything.

You were simply addicted.

~*~

Just as the alarm clock rang in the big room, Jackson woke up from his deep slumber. He simply hit the little noisy cube and got up, feeling his stomach growling. When the doorbell rang, he wondered just who could come here this early. He just had time to shower, and he hoped he'll be able to, or else he'll be cranky all day, again.

The doorbell rang a second time, and right now Jackson wanted to chop whoever's head was behind the bloody door.

"I’m coming!" He yelled as he almost crawled to the door

"Hurry up, fat ass!" could be heard from behind the door. And now Jackson knew whose head was going to be cut and served as a dinner tonight.

Jinyoung. The bloody, noisy and arrogant Jinyoung.

"What the...?" Jackson said as he opened the door, facing a way-too-smiley Jinyoung in a tuxedo.

"Am I hot? I think I am, but I’m not sure, what do you think?" The young guy said. He was young, and had a cute face, surrounded by thick brown hair.

"It's 6.30 A.M., I’m fucking late, and you came all the way here to ask me if you're hot or not? Seriously man, you've got a problem." Jackson cried as he was already going back to his room.

"But you think I am? I mean, hot" Jinyoung tried again. Jackson just looked at him and went back to the bathroom, yelling a frustrated "I think you should get the fuck out!" before closing the door with a light thud.

Wang Jackson was a rather normal person. He'd just finished university and passed his degree in psychology, specialized in group and behavior therapy. He had finally found work in a big society where he could help and advise people. He was an open-minded and outgoing person. Always smiley and listening to other's problems. Maybe that's why he decided to make it his job.

Offering better lives was worth getting up at 6 A.M. every day. That's what Jackson thought.

Unfortunately, he was the type of man who was always mistaken for a player. His look had always been his biggest problems.

The reason of his poor and mediocre love life.

Jinyoung was in the kitchen, trying to eat something that resembled to a piece of cake (quite old, if you ask Jackson) and singing a very old Korean song when Jackson came back, hair still wet and completely dressed. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a white tee-shirt, showing his bulging features.

"So tell me, why are you like this?" Began the latter as he took a mug and poured some of the fresh coffee Jinyoung had just made for both of them.

"Got an Interview today; a big bank from Switzerland. Gotta get this job!" Retorted the young man as he took another sip of the hot, black liquid.

"Oh, and that is why you decided to come this early. Well just to let you know, I have a life, and I do have work. So I’ll be going." Answered Jackson. His work was at the very end of the city, and since his car was being fixed by a friend, he had to go by train.

"But, but, that's why I came! My interview is like what....5 minutes from your job? Want me to give you a ride?" The tuxedo man sang, still sipping his coffee.

"Well....I guess you're quite useful sometimes." Jackson uttered as a 'thank you' before grabbing his keys. "But we still have to go, moron." He added.

"How dare you speak like that to your super-hot-in-tuxedo best friend!" Jinyoung yelled as he faked indignation.

"Let's go?" Jackson winked at his pouty friend. "If you're a good boy, I’ll even buy you some ice cream! Chocolate flavored! Your favorite ~" He added.

"Fuck off, bastard" Was all he heard before Jinyoung tried to kick Jackson out of the flat.

~*~

After months and months of nagging and badgering from your two best friends, you had finally decided that you needed help. That you didn't have enough will to stop this vicious cycle.

Your friends had already enrolled you in a special program that was supposed to be one of the most efficient programs among all these group discussion available nowadays. At first they wanted you to go to a psychiatrist, but you immediately declared that that was "for mentally handicapped people" and preferred a weird group where you talk to people with the same problem as you.

It has been two years, and you were still as addicted to alcohol as you were in the past. It had begun in high school during parties, and it became more and more frequent. Now you couldn't go home without buying some of that precious liquid, or even stop in a pub to drink until you blacked out.

"So it's your first day now…are you nervous?" Choi Youngjae, your best friend asked. You were in a café near the emplacement where you had to go.

The latter was drinking a cafe latte with a gloomy face.

"Well....I don't know. I don't expect anything from this. You forced me to go." You answered. You had a fucking huge headache, and you couldn't even think clearly, but then again, you wondered when was the last time you were able to do so was, anyway.

"Yah! You have to try at least! You need help! We’re all trying to cheer you up….but we won't be able to do it forever. Someday, you'll lose all your friends if you don't stop this." retorted Youngjae, while trying to figure out what exactly was wrong with his friend.

He never really understood how you began drinking so much. But at first, he didn't want to believe that you were addicted. He thought it had something to do with youth, or even challenge, rebellion. He only discovered it when he saw his best friend trying to kill herself with sleeping pills and some whiskey caramel. She was begging Youngjae to let him end his life. That she wouldn't be able to stop. That's when he knew his friend was in big trouble. Since then he had try everything, even weaning. But he failed miserably. Most of their friends didn't want to hang out with them anymore, mostly because you were always drunk, and you were able to completely ruin an evening. Youngjae and your other best friend, Mark, had then decided that you would go to these group therapies. Just to try.

"I know. I’m doing this for you." You almost whispered, but Youngjae heard it anyway, and as he smiled brightly at you, it felt like maybe this was worth spending some time in there.

"Glad to know that there’s still some sense in that big head of yours." Youngjae laughed, and he knew you had no intentions of stopping, but it was his last card, and he had to believe in it.

"So I’ll be going. I hope I won't be surrounded by psychos." You snorted. You were not really in the mood today, so no chit-chat.

You left your friend and went straight to the building, wondering what on earth you were doing.

~*~

"Ok guys! That's it for today!" Jackson yelled at the men in front of him. His third meeting was for emotionally shocked people. This was the most difficult one, because they were not really talkative. Sometimes even Jackson felt uneasy around them.

Now he had to go to the next meeting. Jackson hated to admit it, but this one was the most delicate.

The Alcohol Addiction meeting.

The room was empty as he came and proceeded to place the chairs in circle, as he usually did. Everyone could talk to others and participate in a big discussion. Contrary to what one might think, this wasn't the usual whiny group discussions that people saw on television. In his groups, Jackson always tried to talk a little about the problem, and a lot about other things, because dwelling on misfortunes was not his forte, and also didn't really help people.

He even tried to organize little trips, or even walks in Tokyo. That was why his program was one of the most appreciated by his boss and he was rather proud of himself for that.

He often had visits of people coming back to him and thanking him for his help when they needed it the most. That was pure bliss for Jackson.

As people entered the room, Jackson was reading the list of persons registered for today. A new program meant a new group of alcoholics were here.

"So, to begin with, my name is Jackson Wang, and I’ll be your instructor during this program. I know this might be a little "weird" for some of you, but this won't look like anything you’ve seen on TV" He began. He was pretty confident in this, and had already prepared a whole month of activities and talks for his new "friends".

"First, I’m just going to ask you to do a little introduction of yourself, just to feel at ease. I know it's difficult to talk in front of strangers, so no need to talk a lot, a simple thing will do, we'll have plenty of time to learn about each other." Jackson continued. Everybody was silent and listening to him, as usual.

"So, who would like to begin?" asked the instructor. To his surprise, one man lifted his hand. He looked like he was in his 40 and was wearing shorts with a green shirt.

"So, my name is Yoon Hyun Jin. I've been drinking since the age of 20....I haven’t been able to stop since then. I realized, after I lost my wife and son, that I needed to stop this. I’m quite the violent type"

Jackson nodded. He'd seen this case to many times. He asked someone else.

"My name is Kim Baek Sun, and I began drinking last year. I’m 24, by the way. work in a pub, so it's pretty easy for me to drink non-stop...I think I’ll be fired if I don't stop, and my parents can't stand the idea of me drinking shots and shots of alcohol. I’m quite lost to tell you the truth."

Everybody was listening with attention to what the others had to say and they almost all talked once, one after another, smiling, blushing and trying to explain their situation to everybody, knowing they won't ever be judged by people like them.

When it was your turn, the last one, everybody turned to you. You suddenly felt so small that if you could you'd have dug a hole and hid in it.

"I…have nothing to say. Sorry". You knew you should have said something else, but you couldn't.

"Come on, I’m sure you can come up with something. Your name, if you know it, that is." Jackson said, and everybody laughed a little at the comment. It wasn't said in a mean way, but rather in a friendly gesture, though you didn't like it at all.

"Y/N. Happy?" You shot back. Jackson was a bit surprised to see such behavior but he didn't flinch.

"Very much so." He simply said, and began talking about their first little walk near the Han River with big enthusiasm.

~*~

"And then? I mean, you ran and... fell into the pool?" Jackson was laughing so hard. Today was the "funny memories" session and everybody was enjoying some iced tea with a, big, brown chocolate cake made by one of the member.

"Well....it moved suddenly, I was so scared! I ran off and the next thing I knew.... I was in the water....and it was freaking cold!" The old man declared. Everybody laughed again and Jackson continued after he swallowed another piece of the delicious cake.

"What was it finally?" He asked.

"......My son...playing hide and seek..." Answered the old man, clearly embarrassed by the ridiculous situation.

Jackson burst out laughing and everybody followed, while the old man felt himself blush at his own past stupidity.

Only you were in a corner and trying to think about everything except what you had been avoiding for the past week. It was hell, and you were trying so hard not to break and go in the nearest bar to get wasted again. Jackson saw it and went near you as everybody was laughing at someone's story.

"Not feeling well?" He tried calmly. Jackson knew that some people couldn't support this as easily as others, and he saw that you just needed to drink right now.

"Why do you care?" You found yourself asking, frustrated. "You just have to entertain us, make us forget what we shouldn't do...how I’m feeling doesn't have anything to do with you." She spat.

"Well...I do care about all of you. I need to know how you all feel, so I can help better. That's why I’m here." He said. He was talking as if a 5-year-old boy was facing him. He tried to be as gentle as he could, but honestly he was getting tired of your behavior already. He ignored you at first, thinking that maybe you were just going through a hard time. But as days passed, your mood was getting worse and worse, and Jackson just wanted to wake you up from your living dream.

"I’m not a retard you know, stop talking to me like my teacher at kindergarten did. I know why I’m here, and if you want to know, I stopped drinking the day I entered the group." You reluctantly admitted.

"You know, sometimes I feel like you're here because someone forced you. You won't get anything out of this if you don't even want to be here in the first place. I may help people, but I’m not a magician. I can't change people's mind and way of thinking. If you're not going to help us and talk, then don't, but you're wasting your time here. When people try to forget about their addiction, I can almost hear you think about what alcohol you'd like to drink and how you'll get drunk again." sighed Jackson. Every time people like you came, they left after 10 days, and went back to clubbing and alcohol as soon as left the center. Jackson knew this type of girl. Young people wasting their lives for some ridiculous, sour beverage.

As if it made some sense in your head, you suddenly became calmer. "It's not that I don't want to change...but I’m really not doing it for me...I don't want to lose people around me...but I’m not strong enough to stop by myself." You whispered.

"That's why I’m here. If you want to change, then that's a good start." Jackson smiled. So, she wanted to change after all. He nudged you a little. "Come on, smile! Everybody's trying hard, no need to ramble, just try to participate. And I swear, this cake is just heaven!" he continued.

You smiled and tried to ignore the warm feeling going through your body while Jackson was already cutting himself another piece of cake.

~*~

"So yeah...basically, the idea is that we go camping near Noeul Park." Jackson began. Everybody had just arrived and he was already preparing the little trip that was happening in a few days.

"I know it's sudden, but I got the idea yesterday. I know I suck. But we'll have fun! And we need to evaluate everybody's situation. And I thought that camping would be a great idea!" Jackson tried to cheer everybody, and some people were into it. Some of them couldn't go because of work, but almost everybody was ok with the idea.

You were more than reluctant. Camping has never been what you liked the most, even when you were a member of the scouts –another bad life choice-. Since then you had completely forgot how to live without a real bathroom, a bed and all the commodities.

"So hmm...Y/N, are you coming?" Jackson asked with a bright smile. You suddenly felt uneasy and out of control. Jackson smile was even brighter than the sun and you couldn't help but smile back shyly.

"So yeah, here's the list, please write your name down, and then we'll proceed to the preparation." Jackson went to the little black board on the wall and explained to everybody how everything was going to happen.

You simply sat low in your chair, wondering what the hell you agreed to.

~*~

"You did what?" Youngjae and Mark were both shocked when you announced them that you were going on a little camping session.

"I didn't have a choice...everybody was staring at me...I just.... nodded? And this is part of the program. I haven't drunk anything in two weeks now...I’m on the verge of breaking down. I think I need some fresh air." You sighed.

"Well...from that point of view.... sounds pretty decent to me." Youngjae said and you took another sip of soda.

"So, how are you feeling...going without alcohol...isn't it too hard?" Mark asked cautiously. It had always been a tense topic between them since you had never admitted that you had problems. Now that you were following the program, you were always clean, and even if your mood was not the best, at least you didn't feel like shit all day and night.

"Don't ask me...you don't want to know. I told you, I’m going to break down soon..." You leaned on the wooden table. Why was it so hard? You felt like no one could understand you. Not even your best friends. It looks so easy to stop from an exterior point of view, but in fact, it's even harder than trying to stop smoking. Hell on earth.

As you came back home that day, you tried so hard not to think about the bottle of whisky, untouched, in the kitchen.

~*~

"You did what?" Jinyoung asked, dumbfounded. Jackson had just announced him that he was going to camp with the group. He was more than surprised to see his best friend in such a high mood.

"I want to go camping with them. The boss didn't lie when he told me people where even harder to handle this month. Everybody's on the verge of collapsing." Jackson whined.

"Well, you know one month is not enough for most of them" Jinyoung concluded. He had never been a pro in these things, but he certainly knew that alcohol was a tough topic. Even tougher than when he tried to stop his addiction to reading.

"I know, the program lasts one month, but everybody comes regularly to ask for advice. They almost all have my phone number. I follow them all, don't worry." Jackson answered as he went to the oven to take his freshly made lasagne.

"Any rebels? There's always one 'tough' person who acts all posh and cold." Jinyoung snorted.

As he asked that, your face appeared almost immediately in Jackson's head, but he brushed it away.

"Nope, everybody's good to me~" He sing-sang.

Jinyoung laughed. Jackson has always been everybody's professor, father, brother, friend. He was really kind when it came to his 'friends' and he knew these people were lucky to have such a good person taking care of them.

"Ok, my fat friend, I gotta go, Swiss banks don't joke with money!" He took his dark blue jacket and went to the door, yelling ‘good luck’ to his friend before closing it.

Jackson sighed again and proceeded to go to the living room to eat in front of another stupid television show, before falling asleep.

PART 2

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