#these just keep getting longer. consume my brainrot boy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

boytoyhalo · 5 months

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Contrary to what you might expect, Fit isn't the one who ends up finding Pac's pelt - it's Ramon. He finds it tucked into it's usual hiding spot while he's looking for Richas during a game of hide and seek. Pac is with Fit when it happens, taking in the view from the top of the lighthouse in companionable silence while he works on some simple repairs. There's only maybe 10 minutes between the initial, violent wave of shivers that wrack his body as his skin is touched for the first time in years and the moment Ramon runs in, calling shakily for fit through wet sobs, and Pac spends all 10 of those minutes fighting to maintain his composure through the panic attack that tries to overtake him.

By the time Ramon bursts in, clutching the pelt tightly to his heaving chest and babbling an explanation to his concerned father (who of course abandons his work the minute he hears his son's distraught voice) He's managed to calm himself down a bit - but he's barely managed that, let alone come up with a plan. And despite his initial relief that it's Ramon whose found it instead of any of the many worse things that could have, his panic returns in full as Fit gingerly take the skin from his crying child and he realizes that it's already too late for him to salvage this; no matter what he does, his cover is blown. There's no way he can ask for the pelt in a way that won't raise suspicion, and he certainly can't steal it. His only options are to submit and accept his fate of being Fit's property forever, or to explain what he is and pray that he's kind enough to not only believe him but grant him his autonomy, instead of doing what any reasonable person would do and using his "discovery" to his advantage.

Pac.... he trusts Fit, as much as can trust a human, but that's just it: at the end of the day, Fit is human. Pac knows humans, he knows their greed and their cruelty and their innate instinct to hoard anything that gives them advantage over their peers - to capture and poke and prod and kill. He thinks, a bit deliriously, that maybe the best way out now is death - he'd much rather die than surrender his autonomy and deal with the relentless itch of his human form forever, or see his friend become everything he's feared he would be.

The feeling of somebody touching the pelt is. not painful exactly, nor exactly pleasant, but it's..... invasive. intimate. It feels like somebody reaching into Pac's chest and physically touching the deepest parts of his soul, parts that are meant to stay hidden and protected - like having every single painstakingly crafted layer of defense stripped away from him at once.

The few humans (ones that he tries not to remember) who have held Pac's skin before had bled enough of their motives through to leave a gross, sticky residue on his violated conscience, one that only got worse and worse as his captors fully realized and utilized their power. He had fought hard to escape those people, had sacrificed so much for his freedom, he can't go back to that - But Fit is carefully stroking the dark fur along his spine with gentle melancholy, eyes sad and brows furrowed; it sends an icy cold fire through Pac's nervous system, viscerally uncomfortable in a new way that he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Who did this?" Fit mutters, curiosity almost evident enough to completely drown the hint of sorrow in his tone. "It's well preserved..." he brushes a thumb back and forth absentmindedly as he inspects the skin on the inside of the pelt. Pac has to lock his whole body in place to suppress the gasp that tries to escape him. "This has to be one of those seals from that one pod that likes to hang around, right? That's a real shame, I like those guys a lot. But, we saw them all together yesterday didn't we...?"

Ramon's whimpers wobble their way back into sobs, and Fit takes his eyes off the grey fur to focus on comforting his son with soft whispers, promises that he'll find whoever skinned the animal and make sure it never happens again. He places the pelt behind him, out of sight from both him and Ramon as he takes the poor kid into his arms; Pac can finally breathe just enough to speak, and he jumps on the opportunity before it can disappear again.

"Can I- Can I take it?" He chokes out, distress far more evident than he would like. Two faces swivel to look at him with twin looks of confusion, Ramon's features still quivering in an attempt to reign themselves in. Pac swallows, doing his best to dislodge the knives in his throat before trying again. "Can I have the pelt. Please? Fit?" He looks at the ex-soldier, trying not to let his desperation bleed into his eyes.

"Uh." Fit hesitates, bewilderment visibly growing by the second as he studies Pac. The selkie sends a prayer to every god of every religion he can think of. "Why?" He draws out the end of the word slowly.

"I just- I mean it- I'm just..." Fit's eyes would be completely invisible if his brow were furrowed any deeper. Deep breath. He turns his gaze to Ramon. "I'm going to return it! There's a seal out there somewhere missing it's skin, he's probably- probably cold, you know?" He knows the wide smile he puts on is completely see-through, probably even more so than it feels from the way Fit is staring at him. He's a few seconds away from cracking his voice open pathetically on another "please" When the unsure twist of his friends mouth softens into a small smile; a little bit more real but equally as see through as Pac's own.

"Okay. Yeah," He says simply, looking back to Ramon. "See, everything's gonna be okay! Pac is gonna give the seal his skin back! Hey, maybe as reward for getting it back to him he'll let you ride on his back, yeah?" Pac is frozen in shock, speechless as his plea dies in his throat. What? Ramon glares at his father, deadpan.

"It's dead, Fit." Fit sighs, letting his joking face fall away to look at him seriously.

"I know baby boy, but- these things... they are what they are, y'know? we can't change them we just have to- we have to make some space between us and our emotions." The last sentence is slower, sounding almost rehearsed in its meticulousness. Ramon's sniffles have softened a bit, and he's looking at his dad tiredly. "I'll tell you what, why don't we let Pac take the fur away and go find Richarlyson, we can go back to the house and I'll read to you guys, or you can draw or whatever you need to do. And when you feel a little bit better you can decide whether you want to keep it, or do something with it, or throw it away. But until then, it'll be out of sight out of mind, ok?" Ramon sighs and nods, burying his head in fits shoulder and wrapping his little arms around him. "That's my boy. Come on, let's go find Richas- thank you so much Pac."

Pac startles as he's acknowledged, brain still stuck on Fit agreeing to give him his pelt back. "Wait, really? I mean- uh- you're sure?" There's still skeptical curiosity behind Fits gaze as he looks over his shoulder at him from the where he now stands in the doorway, an arm under Ramons legs where they wrap around his waist - he still doesn't buy it, Pac can tell. But he just gives him a single nod - he's really letting me take it? Just like that? "I- I mean. Yeah, no problem! Thank you!" He's too stunned and too relieved to pay mind to his own awkwardness. Fit grunts an acknowledgment and turns back to the door, continuing to walk.

"We'll see you later, then. Meet us back at the house when you can."

"Sounds good! Bye fit, bye Ramon!" Pac is glad Fit's back is turned so he can't see how hard he's shaking. The minute the door closes he's on his knees scrambling over to his discarded pelt, gasping as his fingers clutch it and his world finally settles back into place, lungs filling with air for what feels like the first time in hours. He had fully, wholeheartedly expected to be trapped or to at least - well. whatever he was expecting, it certainly wasn't that. To be set free, no questions asked. He drops his head down to sigh into the soft fur, feeling like every drop of energy has been wrung out of him. He can agonize over Fit's choice and the wrench it's just thrown into the knowledge of humans that he thought he had later. Right now, he wants nothing more than to slip into his skin and dive into the cold comfort of the water; the itch that usually starts slow after a full day of wearing his human one has come early and at full force. He prepares himself to ask Forever to cover dinner with Fit tonight, not sure he'll be able to stomach walking on dry land for the next few days.

Some time later - around 19 days later, not that Pac had been counting - he finds the courage to ask Fit the question that's been tormenting him.

"Why did you let me take it?" Fit glances at him, idly flipping the smooth, flat stone he'd been weighing in his hand. The last strokes of sunset paint the horizon in soft purples and pinks. Ramon and Richas are asleep in a pile that's just visible to where the two men stand on the shore outside Ramon's bedroom window, tired after a long day of insisting on helping Fit with his work.

"What do you mean?" He asks genuinely. The selkie takes a second to steel his nerves, willing himself not to back out.

"The seal pelt. You let me take it - Why?" There's a beat of silence as Fit studies his face before turning back to the ocean, expression unreadable.

"You asked for it," he says simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"But-" Pac sputters. "But I didn't give you a reason? I-" I was on the verge of tears. I was scared. I was lying. You knew there had to be a reason. Fit shrugs lightly, finally tossing the stone. Pac watches it skim across the surface of the water.

"Made Ramon stop crying. That's reason enough for me." The stone skips 1, 2, 3 times before it sinks into the water with a plop.

"Fit..." Pac's voice breaks a little bit. He's pleading, though he's not sure what for. Fit looks at him for a few second, concerned. His face grows serious before he turns back to the water.

"You've been keeping secrets from the beginning, Pac." Pac's heart stutters, and a small, terrified sound almost slips out of him before he's blessedly cut off. "I don't fault you for that. I've got plenty of my own- plenty of other people's too." A beat. He crouches down to find another flat stone. "I don't need to know. You're a good friend and a good father. I-" He stills, swallowing as his eyes pierce into Pac yet again, pinning him in place and stealing his breath with their raw earnestness. "I trust you, Pac."

Pac.... Pac isn't sure what to do with that. He isn't sure how to react to the warmth that floods his face or the way his stomach swoops- Fit trusts him. Fit is a grizzled soldier that doesn't know anything about him, that's only known him a few months, that could've kept him or sold him out or done any number of things that would've benefitted him but instead... he trusts him. The weight of that isn't lost on Pac, though he's not sure what he did to earn it, and he - he's completely lost on where to go from here.

"Whenever you do want to tell me what you wanted it for though, or what you ended up doing with it, or where..." Fit trails off, staring out at the ripples in the water. Pac stares at the gnarled scarring on the side of his face. "Well. You don't have to. But I won't judge."

And for a long, long second Pac considers it - considers throwing caution to the wind and taking Fit to his current hiding place, stripping down and donning his skin and slipping into the water in front of him, answering all his questions - because Fit trusts him and despite every part of him knowing he shouldn't, he trusts Fit too.

...But, Fit trusts him under the assumption that he's human. Once he learns he's been lied to - well, that's a level of vulnerability that Pac can't afford. He's not ready to put his fate in Fit's hands again, no matter how gentle they were last time. Not yet, at least.

Besides, Mike and Cellbit would kill him. And if he tried to explain or justify why he trusted Fit, that strange fluttery feeling would come back and then none of his family would let him hear the end of it. So instead, he just nods.

"Okay." his voice is barely audible. Fit nods back.

"Okay." Pac stares at him, trying to commit his profile to memory. He grins.

"Thank you." Fit's mouth curves into a smile - a real smile, small but genuine.

"...yeah, no problem.

#selkie au #these just keep getting longer. consume my brainrot boy #qsmp au #fitpac

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prototypelq · 16 days

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vergil for the ask game?

Vergy!

thank you and @river-muse for asking about the series #1 Motivated Loser!)))

favourite thing about them

First place - his inner softness. Vergil is very much his momma's boy, he is emotional, touchy, and he loves with his whole heart, he loves so much that he is scared of the feeling consuming him whole. I thrive on seeing him simply be the older brother, father (and adopted uncle) figure that he wishes to be.

Honourable mention: just how Iconic he is. Vergil is THE anime katana wielder, he is THE Storm That Is Approaching, he is THE Rival Videogame Boss, he will kick your ass into Easy mode without breaking a sweat. Dante is an iconic protagonist for sure, but Vergil is one of THE Videogame Bosses Of All Time and that position is absolutely deserved. And, y'know. He is super fun to fight.

least favourite thing about them

V(ergil). I appreciate all the character development we got out of that time, but I also firmly believe it could have been achieved in other ways, plus V(ergil) just makes the story completely unrelatable. Dante faces human trauma and human struggles. Vergil faces those same problems, however, his path through them is an emotional mess human (and fans') experience cannot account for. For me, that dampens the emotional investment in the story, especially considering how much simpler, but no less impactful in Dante's in comparison to Vergil.

DisHonourable mention: 'Dreams of a black throne I keep on repeat' and 'Call me your majesty' lines from BTL and Fire Inside respectfully. None of those lines fit Vergil at all, and they only further the ginormous amount of misconceptions about him.

(I do adore the demonic pet therapy tho, it was adorable)

favourite line

'We've got plenty of time' (watch me bawl till final stage of dehydration to this)

brOTP

I mean, it's in the name. Sparda Loser Twins, my beloved. I also completely support every opinion that Vergil will get along with Trish, Lady, Nico and Patty just fine.

OTP

I admit, I am intrigued by Vergil/Lady, I think they can have something good together. They both seek challenge, and could provide it for each other (by challenge I also mean just generally new experiences, I don't mean they have to fistfight each arguement). I can see them together in some post-dmc3 AU scenario, but also. Surprisingly. Post-dmc5. Cause Lady very much needs to retire if she wants to live any longer than she has, and Vergil has known nothing but violence for his entire adult life (which is also not much). Post-dmc5 both need to learn how to handle peace times, and this parallel is what I can see driving them together in this setup. Again, I think they can have something nice, also probably much sweeter than in post-dmc3 version.

nOTP fucking incest

random headcanon

Vergil is a freakin romantic to the core. He likes reading, he would enjoy himself in an art gallery, I think he would also like visiting theater and/or musicals. This man forced himself to weaponise his nerdiness and I'd love to see him slowly, badly, but surely, letting go and just enjoying himself and different hobbies. Also, just a totally random thing - I think he'd enjoy pottery (after he breaks a few dozen mishapen figures first, of course)

unpopular opinion

I doubt I can come up with something more unpopular than my previous rant about V(ergil)

song i associate with them

I have a few actually! Vergil would love Bring Me To Life and I Am Right About This. I can also see him enjoying Break The Silence.

youtube

This track is an absolute BLAST, and I have a concrete vision that Vergil would like to learn and play it. This vision was extended by the brainrot into Dante hearing the track, loving it, then bringing himself and Nero along to play the song (just don't ask me how, I have counted at least four different instruments, and it either means Dante and Nero have to switch drums and base guitar mid-song, or that Vergil and Dante have to switch on the guitars). This song is just so beautiful, and I think the losers will have an amazing time playing it together.

Musical Spardas, one of my most critical of weaknesses.

also I wish there was a way to mod Kitsune Dance to be the M19 bossfight music. beautiful song, it has very distinct musical phases which would easily match the fight escalation, and it just sound much more fitting for Vergil than the in-game track.

favourite picture of them

this is one of those pics where the context of the original shot was painful, but the resulting image looks wholesome as hell and I love it. (pls share source if you know it)

#oh boy i am wary of the backlash for this honestly #sorry not sorry #thank you for your patience and for the asks anyway i enjoyed doing this #there are stories where i can enjoy the 'unrelatable' supernatural plotlines but they are rare #and again especially not when dante's struggle is mostly a human one #vergil sparda #dmc

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souryogurt64 · 3 years

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this is kind of a vague question but do u have any like. obscure lesser known fob facts or media. because currently ive been having fob brainrot for the first time in three years and im running out of fob media to consume

i feel so bad, im super out of practice in terms of being fob encyclopedia secretary so im not as helpful as i probably would have been 5 years ago lol. maybe my old pete facts posts, or this old compilation i made of old interviews i found via wayback. also this super dark essay i found on chicagohardcore.com pete wrote when he was like 20-22, trigger warnings for suicide etc . also my documentation tag where i saved a bunch of stuff when i was like 16, apologies in advance for all my teen hysterics general weirdness and caps lock crytyping tags lol. also ryan ross’ LJ comments about pete. also the hardcore messageboard compilation

also journals:

a lot of older or longer form content is gone due to being too NSFW for youtubes toc these days or but ive noticed the youtube algorithm seems to be broken for videos uploaded 10 or more years ago? so ive been seeing a lot of videos i had never seen before in the recommended for other old fob videos (like this one) and then if i type in the title to watch them again they dont show up lol, so i would do that maybe, theres also a 10 part funny moments video that has a lot of great stuff but thats not really underground.

release the bats is too NSFW to be hosted by any platform these days so only about half is up on youtube, i suppose you could order a DVD. it also seems like theres loads of clips from some dvds that were my heart will always be the b side to my tongue or cutting room floor on youtube?????? so maybe you could order those as well because there might be stuff thats been taken down or never got posted.

i feel so bad about not having much for you off the top of my head so here is ALL of hey chris' interesting journal entries that mention pete and some bits of old interviews i have saved on the notes app of my phone . i hope to god the read more works, if it doesnt im sorry guys

old interviews

2004

Patrick: What's the best like, middle of nowhere town we ever played?

Pete: Fargo was fun.

Patrick: Fargo was awesome! Fargo. Go for it. Fagro was awesome, and Iowa. There's a place in Iowa. Crud, whats the name of it?! I can't remember. For some reason, Iowa city, I haven't played enough but there was some weird farm town and I can't remember the name of it, but it was probaly one of the most fun shows I've ever had. It was great.

Laurren: Yeah, the kids were probaly really excited, because they probaly never get any shows. And then to have you guys of all bands come out there, I can imange.

Patrick: Oh, thank you! But yeah, and for some reason there's this thing where alot of times people expect us to be like rock stars, you know? And in some of these smaller towns, I don't know. You're just like, one of the guys. So like, people just walk up and are like 'Hey, good job' and they keep walking. But it feels just like you're hanging out there and ontop of that, they go nuts. It was awesome. If I could remember the name of the town it would be perfect, but I can't and I feel stupid. But if you saw us in Iowa, you probaly live there so.. [laughs]

2004

How would you describe yourself or the band in five words?

Pete: Myself?

Jennifer: Or the band, whatever.

Pete: Which do you want?

Jennifer: Whichever one.

Pete: Myself, I'd say.. they all contradict each other. Shy, but really outgoing. Insecure, but really arrogant. I don't know the word for it, but just unhappy. I'm always unhappy with everything, I'm just an unhappy person.

Jennifer: Unsatisfied?

Pete: Yeah, unsatisfied, probably. Disappointed.

Jennifer: Aw, why are you always disappointed with everything?

Pete: I don't know! I'm just weird, I can always find a flaw in everything. I'm weird like that. It's pretty depressing.

Name for things you don't understand.

Patrick: I don't understand why girls will wear open toe flip-flops essentially and call them shoes. I don't understand why people speed up to red lights. It's red.. you're not going anywhere. I don't understand why people get into smoking. It's not pleasent.. it's not like one of those things where you're like *coughs* this is great! I mean you get a buzz maybe... but there's nothing that atrractive about it. And I'll never understand why Oingo Boingo never took off. They were never nearly as famous as they should have been.

HEY CHRIS JOURNAL ENTRIES START HERE

august 22nd 2002

my ex and her friend once wanted to pay me and pete $300 to make out for a minute in front of em

april 24 2004

pete and i definitely made kissy face and i humped the shit out of patrick which is always good.

april 29th 2004

i should make a 10 things you dont know about pete, like how every time hes over he steals my porn and toys.

but what i can tell you is that the fob dvd is honestly amazing and fucking hilarious, especially when pete and i are talking about banging...

may 1 2004

maybe i can get petes cheap ass to buy me scooters when hes not busy stealing my porn.

july 6th 2004

it was 1996, the remnants of a few early 90s chicago hc bands got together and formed the notorious chicago vegan straight edge band, extinction. now extinction was different from all the other shitty basement show bands we were in just by the simple fact that they actually had a 7", a record deal (catalyst) and people actually knew their songs in other cities. in the few years they were together i would roadie and tag along to whatever really great city (buffalo, indianapolis and the like) pack 15 deep sardine style in a van and roll to whatever shithole they were playing. around this time they lost their bass player, and in a pinch decided to go with some young little asshole with dreadlocks who used to sing for this horrendously bad band, firstborn. i was familiar with firstborn cause somehow they managed to open every goddamn hc show in town. no matter how many times i tried to show up late so as not to have to sit and watch them butcher their way through earth crisis covers, they always ended up playing right when i walked through the goddamn door.

then i would see him.

that little fucker with the size 40 jeans around his size 26 waist. bleached dreadlocks flying around with what may have been the absolute worst voice of all time. he was the kid at the show that you hated for absolutely no reason at all, we all have that kid.

grimes calls me up and tells me that the dickhead with the dreads is going to be their new bass player. i was furious, not that i actually had any say in what scrubs they let in the band...but i was tight with all of extinction and it would fuck up the dynamic of the road trips. now i would have to try and not get seated next to this gross little fucker. grimes tells me to give him a chance and that we would probably end up liking each other since we were like the same dude. this just infuriorated me further, to be compared to that asshole, the one dude i couldnt stand, my arch nemesis. grimes tells me hes bringing him by my apartment that night, i told him to fuck off.

he brought him over anyway.

the first half hour or so i just did the dude move, "whatsup." he just sat there quiet, not adding anything to the conversation. then grimes looks at him and tells him to recount some random vandalizing story for me...it was all downhill from there. we were like 2 old women swapping gossip and recipes for new scams, vandalism, and general anarchy.

in the end, grimes was right.

we became great friends after that night. years pass, many anarchy filled nights us out stealing bikes and using our last $20 for 2am strip club adventures. then one day he gets this great idea to start a new band, novena. he told me they sounded like a cross between buried alive and damnation ad. i was like, eh...this is the irresponsible dickhead who would was notorious for ditching extinction practices to go rob frat houses and even for ditching out on entire shows...and now the kid wants to start a band? pssh.

one night i picked him up from one of his many apartments (who he shared with my current roommate, charlie) in chicago and he played me the demo. it was amazing. i couldnt believe this kid actually got his shit together for long enough not only to form and record the band, but to actually make it sound good. i was jealous. but on a cold october night in 1999 (i could be off), i got a phone call from pete telling me their bass player tim quit (to form rise against)and asked if i would be interested in playing bass in his band novena, which he had recently re-named "arma angelus"...

up next:

arma strikes back.

****fact checker charlie just came in with some corrections:

1. extinction was only vegan in the beginning.

2. pete didnt sing for firstborn, he played bass. but he still had a bad voice.

3. charlie didnt live with pete at that time, he lived with him at the apt before. white trash joliet bob was staying on the couch with pete at that apartment, where pete would wake bob up by sticking his hard dong in bobs face yelling, "bob! wake up! take the mic, take the mic!"

july 8th 2004

i remember sitting on our amps after an arma practice when pete told us the news, "yeah dude...its gonna sound kinda like new found gloryish". stixxx immediately yells, "its gonna break up the arma." i didnt care, at that point everyone in chicago was in 12 side bands anyway. andy hurley replaced stixxx after pete gave him his walking papers. andy played with arma on our last tour. but as we started playing less and less, fallout boy started playing more and more.

then i got the demo. some shitty cassette tape with 3 songs that was surprisingly enough, pretty good. the new improved 3 song cd demo came next and i found myself not only being the only person at some of the shows but actually singing along (this was the point when i told them, "honestly, this shit is really good...im riding with you all the way to TRL" we laughed, but how far off do you think i was?"). they were a five piece at that time and searched out only the shittiest of shows to play. lugging equipment, handing out demos, and selling crappy merch got me about the same it gets me today, into shows for free but actually not a goddamn thing.

september 1 2004

roll to petes where i look around for my stolen porn and dvds to no avail.

november 7 2004

pete decided to stop by and put in his 15 minute hang out for the night. he did something in my bathroom that i should tell you guys but i know he would disown me as his boyfriend.

november 22 2004

(but referring to an arma angelus show that most likely occurred between 1999-2001)

it was 2am and i had just awoken up from a sweet 2 hour uninterrupted sleep, which if touring in a van full of stankass, obnoxious motherfuckers, is amazing. i woke up because i couldnt feel my legs. i thought to myself, out of all the years ive been on this planet, at this very second, this is the most uncomfortable i have ever been.

it was somewhere between 0 and 10 degrees outside.

we were somewhere in quebec.

there were 9 other guys and 2 bands worth of equipment lodged in around me.

there were 4 seats.

we were in a blizzard of blowing snow.

we were in a van with absolutely no heat.

when i say no heat i mean so cold that we continually had to scrape the inside windows of frost and ice. the only measure we could take to slow this was to keep the vents blowing cold air on the windows to prevent the condensation from turning into ice. this meant that not only were we in 0 degree weather but there was a constant breeze on all of us.

…..

november 22nd 2004

(but referring to an arma angelus show that most likely occurred between 1999-2001)

e had just come from syracuse, ny where a friend of the band had put us up for the evening. his girlfriend went to college there and since she was out of town for christmas along with the other 8 girls who shared a house, he thought it would be a good idea to let us stay and actually behave around girls underwear. the house had 9 rooms, one for each of us. we jumped at the opportunity to sleep in actual beds. he opened the door and we rushed in picking rooms. rooms were chosen based upon which had televisions and largest bra size.

immediately we started going through underwear drawers and looking for diaries. picture 9 guys wearing nothing except for matching bras and panties reading aloud from girls diaries. we designated one room the 'masturbation room'. this room came complete with a tv/vcr combo and someone had a porno. we took turns.

stix was up second, after he was finished he left the door open for the next in line. pete was up 3rd. he walked in, put in the movie, pulled out his wang and started jerkin'. no sooner did he commence the jerkin did stix jumps out of the closet naked screaming, "IM EVERYWHERE!". pete scrambles to hide his junk and runs out the door. i was up 4th.

one of the poor girls left her disposable camera lying out, it still had about 10 pictures left on the roll.

we had a photo shoot.

we each put on her bras and panties and laid in her bed in sick ultra gay poses and took pictures of one another.

then we put the camera back...but not before we peed in her fish tank.

the day before this we stayed at chris from long islands apartment. he let us stay the morning by ourselves with the strict instruction to "stay out of shit".

we found a note in his girlfriends underwear drawer that said, "please stay away from my panties."

December 7th 2004

petes busy driving around looking for obscure toy stores, shooting his friends (and parents) with paintballs, hitting the ignore button on his phone every 14 seconds and stealing my dvds, he has no time for you circus animals.

december 28th 2004

I was awoken by a penis of one peter wentz in my eye.

…

Pete made the dirt drink an entire 2 liter of mountain dew on stage during a song, he almost finished and followed up with a puddle of vomit stage left.

may 15 2005

i miss being in a band with pete for different reasons. we had the best love/hate relationship. sitting there forced to be next to me in the van he would put his hood up and pretend to be asleep and i would try and cuddle and he would get all pissed ala steveo on wildboys. hes a cranky cranky boy when he wants to be...but then again so am i. especially when im woken up by people attempting to smash me in the face with a semen soaked napkin that ends up on my arm. nonetheless, i think we complimented each other well on stage and i miss that

january 20th 2012

After he got out of the hospital Pete showed up at my apartment wearing a jean jacket with no shirt and asked if I wanted to roll up to Woodfield Mall to see the new Clandestine display at Hot Topic. We got in the car and drove west on 90. We passed the lights of the airport when he played the demo for me. There was an odd moment when he was telling me about the lyrics that I don't share with anyone. There are times when I still choke up listening to this.

#also I SEE the other asks #i will get to them lol #i am answering these while making copies at my internship which uses a law office i feel like april from parks and rec #also is anyone else getting concerned about how impermanent and censored content has become due to copyright and strict rules on nudity lol #hell world #fall out boy #documentation

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chunhua-s · 3 years

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Tendou in an enemies to lovers situation 🥺

wew chile, eye— this was longer than i originally planned and that’s due in part to me switching from writing on mobile and my bad word vomit tendencies said ✨start the cameras✨ i originally had a bit of trouble coming up with the solid plot itself while i was losing myself on concepts (nothing new :D just my regular clown shit y’know?) and my sweet goddess @bootylikepeachy was there to tickle my braincells with this “got paired together with your enemy for a class assignment” idea!! bb thank you for brainrotting with me on this, honestly 🥺💖 i dunno if i could have made a final decision if it weren’t for you and your sexy ass brain. i decided leave the ending a bit open?? one to prevent myself from going over 5k words (cause wow, i really hit the slow burn on this one) and two because i kinda like the ambiguity of their relationship after the reader comes to her turning point. since it’s an enemies to lovers type of scenario, i figured it would be better to let things kind of trickle off instead of having it all happen on the same day?? or so it doesn’t feel too rushed or force and i really hope i was successful in doing it justice. i hope you guys will have as much fun reading this as i did writing it!! let me know your thoughts, okay? and as always, thank you for reading!!

SUNSET AND MIDNIGNT ➽ SATORI TENDOU x READER

genre: fluff, slowburn

au: enemies to lovers

warnings: uhhh slowburn? word vomit, ramblings..... that’s about it

tendou is the fall from an ocean cliff. he’s the feeling of the wind sweeping past your body, of your breath disappearing from your lungs and vanishing on the whisps of a blue sky. he’s the dread that wraps around your heart like a vine, the heavy rock that drags you closer and closer to a dive you can’t remember taking. and you, with your heart racing against your ribs so hard that it scars itself with blue and purple bruises, you’re terrified. you’re terrified of heights, of blue waters that run to the deepest parts of the earth and what they don’t show to you. you’re afraid of the heat that comes from a blazing fire and the embers that fly from it on red hazes. it’s the fear of that unpredictability that keeps you away, the fear of being burned and left for dead that leaves you feeling as if you’re walking on egg shells around him.

to you, he’s a variable that you can’t ever be prepared for. a step added to a dance you’d already learned by heart, he messes up your rhythm and throws off your tempo until the melody becomes something you can’t recognize anymore. he leaves you guessing about what comes next — it’s like a game of roulette that he’d dragged you into by a thin chord, wrapped so tightly around your throat that it makes it hard for you to breathe. you hate the feeling of it, hate the way he so easily turned your world on its head and cast the familiarity of monochrome into a scenery of blinding colour.

you’re pouting, a frown etched across your lips as you methodically stir over your pot, head cocked to the side and one hand resting akimbo on your hip. it’d been well over 30 minutes since you’d started boiling the ingredients over a low flame, and you were beginning to tire from stirring constantly; your arm ached and your shoulders were beginning to feel stiff as you tried rolling them to relieve some of the tension. frustration makes a loud groan slip from your lips as you throw your head back. normally, you’d consider yourself a patient person, yet that very same patience was beginning to run as thin as the liquid that should have been thickening by now. you couldn’t understand why it was taking so long, however. you’d done everything by the book! mixed each ingredient in the order that it’d said to, set the flame on the right level, measured everything correctly, so what was wrong?

you hear a snort come from somewhere behind you, but you don’t turn yourself to look at the red-headed male who sits comfortably atop the other side of your counter, well intent to ignoring him. you had neither the time nor the energy to entertain him right now, but your companion didn’t seem to understand that from the cold shoulder you’d been giving him ever since you two began working on your project together.

“you know you don’t have to keep stirring it, right?” tendou hums between bites of chocolate that slightly muffle his words. you don’t see the way his eyes close and his smile widens on delight for the sweet flavour that melts on his tongue. “you can leave it for about a minute before you have to check up on it again.”

you stubbornly roll your eyes, a huff coming from under your breath that disturbs the strand of hair dangling in front of your face. “that’s not what the book says.” your voice comes out evenly, though there’s nothing you do to cut the edge from your tone as you sigh immediately after. the frown on your lips only deepens with the next few seconds that pass you by.

“and that book was released in 2015.”

it’s invasive in its arrival, the question of why that spits on bitterness and undiluted anger. why were you so unlucky to have been paired up with the one person you couldn’t bear to be around? he was everything that dug under your skin, the symbol of chaos in a place where you’d rather solace and routine. he stands on the opposite end of the colour spectrum; where your life molds with deep purples and blues of a dark midnight, he’s the flaming oranges and reds of a burning sunset. your worlds meet on a collision, a burst of light that would consume entire dimensions and leave nothing but bones and ashes in its wake.

there’s a pettiness in your hatred for him, a one-sided scorn that bears its fangs on dark poisons that trip like ink. it tells its tale of irrationality in your law of reason, and, you consider, perhaps that was why you hated tendou. perhaps it was the way his voice could so easily insight the burning taste of anger and annoyance on the back of your tongue, where it forms on a large ball that stops inside your throat and makes it hard to breathe without feeling as if you would implode. it’s something you can’t understand, but you despise the feeling it leaves you with when your eyes meet his.

hot, as if you’d been cast into the open arms of hell.

“well,” you force behind gritted teeth, hearing the noise of them grinding in the back of your head. “i’m gonna stick to what the book says until it gets revised.”

there’s absolutely no reason for you to be so insistent on something that’s clearly not working, you know that. you’re sure tendou is thinking the same, if the long, drawn out sigh he lets out is anything to go by. it isn’t difficult to imagine his expression, lips pursed together, brows furrowed as his narrowed eyes burn holes into your skin. you’re not sure what exactly is pushing you to be so stubborn, but you blindly let it control your thoughts; you run on impulse and immature decisions that have no place in your life.

a silence blends with the sounds of your bubbling pot when he doesn’t respond, insighting an urge to glance around and see why he’d suddenly stopped talking that you force away from your mind. the quiet would give you some semblance of peace, you consider decisively: if he’s decided he would no longer disturb you with pointless musings, then what reason would you have to complain?

there’s a touch on your shoulder that causes your heart to latch inside your throat and rushes on uneven beats of a two-second fright that has you freezing on yourself. on instinct, your body turns to meet red eyes and a bemused grin as tendou’s fingers wrap around your wrist, catching the hand that held the mixing spatula you’d been using in your pot. “relax, will you?” he murmurs, a chuckle on his breath — the taste of his mint breath clouds your mind like a ghostly fragrance — as he pries the instrument from between your clenched fist. with narrowed eyes and your guard put up on a weak barrier, you watch closely as he gently sets the spatula against the counter before he finally releases your arm; it falls lifelessly to your side while the feeling of being burned slowly spreads across your skin. “just trust me on this.”

there’s a hidden promise on his voice, a teasing grin that pulls at his lips and leaves your curiosity ignited on hesitance and uncertainty. you glance at your still bubbling pot, though your gaze isn’t allowed to linger for long as tendou shoves his face into your line of sight with a light chime of “ah-ah-ah.” it was as if he was scolding a child, the thought quickly comes and goes before you can dwell on it — there’s not much chance for you to think about it when tendou’s steering you to your island counter by your shoulders. “sit down for a sec, alright?”

a scowl forms on your lips as he shoves you down into a seat, and you open your mouth to protest when you’re suddenly pacified by the sweet taste on your tongue. slowly, you begin chewing, letting the confusion you feel be washed away by the quickly melting chocolate that fills you with a sense of appreciation.

“better?”

it’s reluctant, but you give the red haired boy a nod and a small smile, all which he returns with his familiar grin. “i set a timer for one minute,” he informs you, lifting his phone screen to show the seconds counting down from 50. his actions are carefree and relaxed, with his arm resting on the edge of the chair and one of his legs folded beneath him, red hair tousled and flopping over his forehead just like he wears it on campus. he’s attractive, you won’t deny, though you wouldn’t let yourself ever say it out loud. helplessly, you sigh, your shoulders dropping to release the tension from standing for so long and you lift a hand to sheepishly run over your neck as you avoid his gaze.

“fine…”

tendou’s smile widens as soon as you relent, a pleased hum leaves him as he further leans back into the chair. “so,” he begins on a cheerful tone, and your eyes curiously watch him as he opens conversation. “what’re your plans after you finish the course?”

a short moment passes you by where you glance away from him, eyes drifting to the pot on your worry. was it really okay to leave it alone? “uh,” you mutter out on your distracted tone before you center yourself. you take a deep breath and let it out on a soft puff that has your cheeks pushing out slightly before you give your answer. “i wanna open up a coffeeshop.”

“oh?” when you meet tendou’s gaze, there’s a spark of interest in them, a sheen of gold that lights vermillion red on the afternoon sun. it causes you to become self-conscious suddenly, your hands tangle together in your lap as you avert your eyes almost as quickly as they’d met his.

“yeah,” you affirm softly. “i’ve always thought that it’d be nice, you know? and i’d be able to relax in a place like that.”

another hum comes from the man next to you, a low sound that dwells on pondering as he takes in your response. “you do seem like the kind of person who would work in a coffeeshop.” he muses, and his word leaves your mind on pause as the alarm goes off, the soft ringing of a song you don’t know disrupting your thoughts and prompting you to stand up. however, there’s a hand on your shoulder that hurriedly pushes you down before you’re at your full height. “no,no—” tendou urges you, “i’ll do it, you just sit there and rest.”

you’re not given the chance to argue as he breezily saunters over to your stove, reaching for the spatula while humming that same song from his alarm. it’s not one you’ve heard before, and it’s another thing that leaves you curious as you watch him stir over the bubbling liquid. you notice the way he holds his hand at a weird angle that leaves his elbow jutting out, the way his tall frame has to hunch as if to see the contents better. doesn’t he wear glasses? you’re lost on the thought as you try and recall whether or not you’d seen him wear a pair before. when he turns back to you, his smile is wide and triumphant, a show of all teeth as he moves himself to the side and just barely tilts the pot with his free hand. “would’ja look at that?” he sings, a telling smugness to his tone as he looks at you. you have to lean over the island counter to see the white liquid has thickened considerably more than when you’d been stirring it. “told you to just let it sit for a while and it’d do it’s own thing!”

unable to help the smile that spreads across your lips, you huff and wave a hand across your face in dismissal, harmlessly rolling your eyes at him. “alright, no need to rub it in now,” you chide as he replaces the pot and skips over to your side, large steps that have him swinging his arms back and forth like an excited child. there’s no hiding the glee in his expression when he sits down again and immediately turns to face you, as if he was waiting for you to admit something. and maybe that’s what he was waiting for, but you’re still stubborn when it comes to him, so you only turn your eyes away from him and cross your arms with a false pout. “just set the timer again, will you?” you grumble, and you’re rewarded with laughter that rang as pure and innocent as the sound of trickling water. it leaves you stunned for a moment, echoes in your mind and finds a home inside your chest so that it plays back for you to hear. it’s a beautiful sound, you think; there’s a part of you that wants to hear more. it horrifies you.

“what about you?” you shake your head as you lean your elbows on top of the counter top, eyes focused on your fingers wrapping around one another rather than to meet vermillion red. the cool feeling of the marble does very little to ease the warmth coursing beneath your skin. “what’re your plans after finishing the course?”

tendou’s laughter dies down like the wind comes to a pause, where the leaves stop rustling on an easy rest as he sighs long and full, his chest rising with the action as he leans backward ever so slightly. “i was thinking of making chocolate,” he tells, tilting his head and lending his gaze to the scenery outside your window. it gives you the courage to look back at him, at the sight of his figure bathed in sunlight where the gold bounces off his skin like a gem. with his expression set on pensive and his eyes bearing a wandering glint, he looks nearly ethereal inside your kitchen, a picture of immortality that you’ve never bothered to look at before now. he glows under a melting light, the picture of him robs you of air and leaves you gasping, desperate for your blood to start flowing the way it had before.

it’s when his eyes find yours that you relearn how to breathe.

his gaze is half-lidded, touched by a visual of content that makes him look at peace, nearly drowsy as his hand supports the weight of his head. the smile on his lips is slight, the kind that quirks the corners of your lips and tells you a story of effortless charm.

“is there any particular reason?” you hate that your voice comes out weak, that it breaks on it’s departure and tumbles out of your lips like white feathers flutter from the sky. the onslaught of emotion leaves you reeling, your center of gravity cast from your body and you struggle to find your footing over uneven ground, all while he watches you, red eyes picking you apart and leaving bear to him the parts of yourself you’ve never seen. a boyish smile settles over his lips as he turns his head to fully face you, leaning forward ever so slightly, but it’s enough so that you’re once again able to taste peppermint on his breath. it washes over your skin like an autumn wind, leaves a chill that reminds you of the first signs of snow on the throws of a mid-summer’s heat.

“not really,” he confesses with a shrug, carefree and unbothered while he leaves you as the perfect image of flustered. his voice is low, like a whisper. it’s hushed, and you’re able to hear something of a sigh on his words that leaves you to wonder about the way the sunlight reflects off of pools of red, how the golden hue makes them appear like the butterscotch candies you’d snack on between classes. “i just… like sweet things.”

“oh.”

you’re reminded of the taste of caramel when you think of tendou. it comes as a surprise when you take the first bite into a chocolate bar, an unexpected drop of golden sweetness that makes you pause for, if only, just a second to properly let its flavour spread across your tongue. he’s the warmth of sunset that embraces your body, the feeling of the waves that brush against your toes, the sand that fills with water and wraps around your feet. you’re left on the shoreline to watch in awe as flames of orange and red dance on the ocean’s surface, where the blazes and embers of a passion unimaginable to your midnight moon leave traces of ethereal gold in its wake.

there’s a sudden thought that invades your mind, slow like molasses and just as bittersweet; you want to sink beneath those burning waters, to let them cover you from head to toe and consume all that you are. until your heart learns his melody and your body falls to his tune.

there’s a part of you that yearns after satori tendou, and the realization if it scares you.

you’re the first to look away when the timer sounds once more, your face burns and you purse your lips together while your hands tangle together on your lap. beside you, tendou arises wordlessly to saunter over to the pot, humming once more to the tune that continues to play from his phone. it doesn’t sound like a typical alarm, and it leaves you intrigued by it’s upbeat melody. “what song is that?” you curse the way your voice breaks, clearing your throat and hoping that he didn’t pick up on it. why were you suddenly becoming such a mess?

tendou answers you a bit distractedly while he tilts the pot from side to side, his head cocked in contemplation and his expression pensive. “it’s called circus,” he glances at you from over his shoulder and uses his free hand to gesture you forward before reaching for the pair of yellow, sunflower-themed muffins you left to sit close-by. “bring the chocolate for me, would’ja?” you meet him just as he’s moving your pot to sit on your counter, the plate of chopped up chocolate bits in your hand while he moves to the side to let you dump them into the mixture. “i found it on this playlist from youtube and i kinda got obsessed with it.”

you take in his words over the light-hearted melody that plays from his phone, enjoying the sound of it before it cuts off and sets to snooze since tendou hadn’t turned it off. it leaves you wanting to hear more, and you wish it would have played on for a little bit longer as you set the plate to the side. “can i look it up?” you ask; the thought that it was silly to ask for his permission rings in your head before you can stop it, and you feel your face heating up when he looks up from mixing the chocolate to you, his eyes alight with amusement and his smile teasing.

“go ahead,” he chuckles, giving his attention back to the pot after casually waving a hand in the air. “mind bringing me the setting tray?”

it doesn’t take you too long to open up the youtube app, your fingers typing in the name of the song before you pause and glance over to your partner. “is it the one by showmore?”

“yup!”

soon, the familiar intro bleeds into your kitchen space, filling up the absence of conversation between you and tendou as he bobs his head along to its sound. you’re left to lean against the counter, your hands folded beneath you while he pours out your chocolate mixture into the little cube shapes in the tray. what you feel is a comfort, a type of quiet happiness that calms your breath on the sound of drums and the piano that blends with the singer’s voice. “it sounds nice,” you mutter quietly, unable to help the way your head nods in time to the melody.

tendou shoots you an excited smile. “it does, right?? i’ve been listening to it nonstop ever since i found it.” his enthusiasm draws a laugh from you, a grin stretches across your face as you watch him sway side to side. it’s an adorable picture of him dancing and smiling so brightly, and when he looks up at you with excitement in his eyes, you feel your heart skip a beat.

“wanna dance?”

“huh?”

the question catches you off guard, leaves you to stare wide-eyed at his back as he pops the tray into the freezer before turning back to face you. his grin widens and becomes almost teasing when he sees your stunned expression. “c’mere!” he urges you with an eagerness, his hand waving you over.

“tendou, i—” you avert your gaze, feeling your skin warm up once more as you murmur your answer. “i can’t dance…”

he makes his way over to you in a sequence of movements you can’t hope to describe — it’s almost like a prance, where his steps are exaggerated and his shoulders lift up in a kind of rocking motion while he’s snapping his fingers to the beat. “that’s fine!” he grins at you just as he reaches out for your hand, pulls you to your feet and coaxes you from behind your island counter. “i can’t either!”

for a moment, you’re caught between amused and hopelessly confused while the man before you lifts your arms like wet spaghetti, letting him swing them between your bodies as if you were a puppet, and he the puppeteer. he’s beaming at you so widely that it’s almost ridiculous, but he seems so vivid and joyous while he maneuvers your limbs, and it causes broad laughter to bubble up from your chest as your body doubles over. it’s a pure, weightless type of laughter that leaves you, like the chiming of bells on the summer wind. it echoes over the music, and when tendou joins in with you, there arises between you both a new kind of song, whose story is found at the evening time when the world holds her breath. it’s a harmony that’s carefree, like the fall from an ocean cliff, like the breath that vanishes from your lungs and cries on laughter beneath the blue sky. it’s the feeling of your fears melting, and when your body finally plunges between those fireset waves, you’re wondering why you were scared in the first place.

“that’s it!!” the excitement in tendou’s voice is infectious, his smile as bright as the sun itself when your fingers intertwine with his and your body finally moves on its own. here begins a dance between you two where he pulls you in closer, and when you pull away, your hands remain intertwined. an irresistible force that you can’t help being drawn to, that spins you around his fingers and wraps you in his arms, all while eyes of the sweetest sunset promise you gold on your midnight sky. the feeling inside your chest is warm, sets through your body like a quiet buzz and it leaves you wanting more, so that the yearning you feel would only ever be satisfied by him.

your hand in his feels like a slow burning flame, and as the both of you are laughing with a song you create with each other, you realize that you’re no longer afraid of its heat.

taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @bootylikepeachy @tsumue @waitforitillwritemywayout @mixxfi @shnnn

send an ask to be added or removed!! (also pls lemme know if i’m forgetting anyone? i think i got you all but just in case)

#tendou satori x reader #tendou x reader #tendou x reader fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! spoilers #haikyuu!! au event 💫

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