The train track scene lmao
(Hello, Hi, How ya goin. So I have been lurking in the Lost Boys fandom for over a year now and have been feral for these boys for far too long to not have an insane amount of ideas about them. So as if this movie didn't have a strong enough chokehold on me already, it led me to write my first ever fic. I have no idea if it's any good, but I hope someone out there at least enjoys the vision. This will be multiple chapters cause I can't shut up. Behold! Whatever this is!
P.S. I know Dwayne and his actor arenโt actually 6โ7. But ya girl is 5โ10 and may have a small size kink and this is my fic๐คSo let a girl live.)
Pairing: The Lost Boys x Fem!Reader (Poly Lost Boys implied)
Work count: 1208
Warnings: Darker Fic, misogyny, sexism, allusions to sex, allusions to murder, the boys being whores. Smut in future chapters.
Summary: You had always wanted nothing more than to be in a band and share your music with the world, and you were finally on your way to doing so. If only your band was big enough to do it alone.
You had always wanted to be a musician. Always. Ever since you could remember. From a child when you would sit and listen to whatever music your dad loved, making you guess titles and quiz you on the bands. From when you were a preteen and had the freedom to branch out to whole new styles of music you had never heard, buying records with what little money you could save. From when you got a guitar on your thirteenth birthday and played every moment you could after school and every chance on the weekends. From when you were fifteen and your friends made the choice to form a band. And from when you made the promise that very day that you would be the most legendary band in history.
While you were yet to be the most legendary band in history, for now, you were finally making moves. You were nowhere near Motely Crue, but you were getting somewhere. After years of writing, months upon months of being in studios, and all the savings you could muster. You finally had the money, the managers, and the following to go on tour. Your dream was coming true. If only there wasnโt one slight, incredibly frustrating, and immensely infuriating problem.
While you had the monetary ability to tour and quite the following, you werenโt quite big enough to tour on your OWN. Enter stage left the current bain of your existenceโThe Lost Boys. A Californian glam rock heavy metal band just starting to find their feet os so luckily at the same time as you. The band consisted of David the lead singer, a dominant man who truly embodied the idea of a frontman. Marko the bassist - the secondhand man to David as they had said themselves which had been proven multiple times with the way Marko seemed to wait on David hand and foot, never seeming to be too far behind him. Paul the lead guitarist, a wild chaotic ladyโs man who always smelt of weed where it may be his erratic behavior took him. And last but DEFINITELY not least Dwayne. The drummer, an imposing 6โ7 man who seemed to be made of muscle, with an intense gaze that could make anyone feel immense fear or simply melt depending on his mood.
At first, it had seemed perfect. They were nice, if not slightly flirty (aka clawing to get into your pants from the get go) and your bandmates got along brilliantly with them. You loved their music and it matched your sound really well. It was the ideal situation. That was until maybe a month into the tour. You could understand the excitement for a while, the booze, the drugs, the women, the partying. Youโd be a hypocrite if you had blamed them for enjoying those things seeing as you had partaken in them yourself. But you thought that maybe after a little while that they would maybe calm down a bit. But they seemed pretty dead set on sticking to their band's slogan of sleeping all day and partying all night. Which you would respect if it wasnโt for the fact that it was impacting your ability to sleep at all, and in turn, your ability to play.
Now it was already hard being a woman in the rock industry, but being the only woman on an otherwise all-male tour? That came with a whole nother set of problems. You had been called every misogynistic name under the sun. Constantly told you couldnโt play, which your predicament was only adding fuel to the fire. Even more, you had your fair share of being told that the only reason that any of the boys kept you around on the tour, is so that they can have someone around as a backup to fuck on the nights they can't pull any groupies. A sleazy stand-in kept in reserve for desperate nights.
This is where the resentment began. You obviously didnโt care about anyone on tour sleeping around or bringing people back to the hotels, it came with the territory, and your boys did it pretty regularly. But the lost boys were seemingly insatiable. Bringing groups of fawning girls back to their (weirdly) shared hotel room every single night. Of course, this word spread and they inevitably got nothing but praise for their man whore behavior. As where you had been branded a slut for so much as picking up a guitar and being in a band. You had even only made out with one man on the entirety of the tour! The opportunity to go any further being ruined by the band in question themselves when they stumbled across you and refused to leave, glowering at the man till he took his hands off of you and left. A strange situation but nonetheless frustrating. The resentment only grew as the situation began to affect you in other ways than just your image and reputation.
When the boys would bring these girls back to their room it would always go the same. At some ridiculous hour of the morning you would hear the drunken love-struck giggles of the group of girls they had chosen for the night, followed by the strong voice of David beckoning them into the room, insisting for them to make themselves at home, to even shed a few layers to get comfortable, which would inevitably be followed by whooping and hollering from the other boys and then the music would start blaring. But no matter how loud they would blast the music you could always still hear the giggling, which would turn to moaning, which would turn to shrieking. You had to admit the first few nights, hell even to this day, it sometimes frightens you. Sometimes the screams just donโt seem as pleasurable as they should. Sometimes they areโฆalmost blood-curdling. Like someone losing a fight for their life. But you know thatโs just your imagination running wild, because just inevitably as the girls being there every night, the moaning would return. Always just the boys though, but you always imagined they had just fucked the girls out so much that they didnโt have the energy to make much noise.
These nightly occurrences would not bother you if it werenโt for the fact that while they were up and causing chaos, you were up and unable to sleep. Which for the first few weeks, was fine, but now nearing a month and a half of borderline sleepless nights due to the proclivities of your tour mates, you were starting to come undone. You didnโt have the luxury of sleeping all day, so naps in your dressing room were having to suffice and that would inevitably have an effect on your performance. You can't remember the last time you got through a show and didnโt mess up at least a segment or two from a few songs.
But after all of that what had been your final straw, was the boys being AWARE of the effects their actions had on you. They HAD to be from the way they had taunted you, teased you. The acts had become more frequent as the days went on. And ton your aggravation, harder to forget about.
Bill Dickey x Reader
Summary: A new girl transfers to Eltingville high and Bill writes her off as another bimbo whoโll hardly look at him. Until he spots her Dick Tracy comics. Heโs in over his head after that.
TW: literally all kinds of misogyny. This is Bill Dickey weโre talking about. I mightโve made him a little nicer than usual, but that's just because I think if he was ever with a girl he had a real chance with heโd be too shocked to actually be an asshole. At first at least.
โCaptain, are you alright?โ buzzed a serene voice from Billโs radio.
He set his phaser rifle down and sends a transmission over, โIโm alright, sweetheart. Iโve always got things under control.โ
He puts a hand above his eyes as he surveys the area. He had just landed on an unknown planet with his crew of bombshell broads. The power cell on his phaser rifle was fully charged and he still had some kiss marks from the crew.
He was ready to conquer any potential threats.
The ground beneath him was hot and sand-like, but firm enough to act like gravel. There wasnโt much he knew about this strange planet. The sun was much stronger out here, and it was evident on the ridiculous amount of sweat that had begun accumulating on him. These damn Starfleet uniforms werenโt made for this kind of weather. Fighting against the glare of the sun, he squinted for some sort of sign of life.
He had been wandering for quite a while, and yet he hadnโt seen a single moving thing beyond the particles of sand he kicked as he walked. Sick of the overbearing weather, he sighs and gets ready to head back.
Until he spots it. Not too far in the distance is a figure. Immediately back on alert, he lifts his rifle and stomps toward it. The form gets clearer, but the shine of the sun prohibits him from seeing much.
It was a girl, that much he could make out. Oh.
Itโs a girl.
A smirk immediately plasters itself on his face as he holsters his rifle and confidently walks forward. He would never miss an opportunity to add another fine woman to his ship.
When he feels close enough he puts his hands on his hips, โNeed any help, princess?โ.
The figure stays quiet. He puts a hand above his eyes in an attempt to shield the sun. He still canโt fully see her and itโs really starting to get on his nerves. Part of her ankle comes into view, which is enough to satiate his impatience, for now.
He could tell that she was wearing a loose dress. What kind, specifically? How was he to know? He didnโt care for that girly bullshit. It was short enough for him to see her beautiful legs. While his eyes hungrily raked over them, he noticed that she wasn't wearing any shoes either.
โWhat the hell?โ he muttered, furrowing his brows. He motioned toward her feet with his hand, โhow arenโt you fucking melting out here?โ.
As if at the mention of it, he suddenly realized just how hot he had gotten. His sweat was leaving pools in his uniform and he felt much, much weaker. His vision wavered as he tried to keep his balance. He looked back up at her but the figure was gone. Before he could search for her, the alarm on his ship started to blare. His head shot up and turned to see the emergency lights shining. He reached for his radio but it was gone.
It was then that he realized just how close the sun had gotten. Way too close. And way too fast. And somehow it was getting even closer. Fuck. He abandoned any visions he had for the girl. She was probably ugly anyways. He had more than enough women to keep him company onboard. He realized if he wanted to keep his crew and his life, he needed to head back immediately.
He dropped his rifle and ran for his life. The sun was moving impossibly closer and his skin felt like it was burning up. As he neared the ship, his heart dropped at the sound of the engine starting. It was going to lift off without him!
Had even his beautiful crew decided to abandon him?
His despair was interrupted at the sight of the figure from earlier. The girl was alive. And on his ship.
She stood on the edge, holding her hand out. Bill could hardly breathe as the sun overtook half the sky and his skin ached. Yet, he kept running. He would be damned if he let his ship of beauties leave him to die like this.
As he neared the ship, he heard the girl scream at him to jump and it gave him one last kick of energy. As the ship lifted, it kicked up a flurry of sand that blinded him. Moving blindly, he jumped forward as she caught his hand. She held onto him as the spaceship lifted and he dangled by one hand. He looked down as the planet below him burst into a grand ball of flames. The flames seemed to get closer and closer and closer tillโ
He woke with a start.
Panting and sweaty, his eyes were wide open. He immediately groaned and threw his hand across his face. The sun was beating down on his face through his curtains, and he felt like he was back in his dream. Another stupid dream about imaginary women, and this time he doesnโt even get to see the damn broad. He can even still hear the stupid alarm. Wait. Alarm? Christ, itโs his alarm. He furiously rubs his eyes and sighs. If heโs tardy again, thatโs his 4th absence of the month. Heโll get another call from the attendance office and his bitch mom will ground him right on time for the Star Trek marathon on Friday.
He quickly rose, staggering toward his drawer. No brushing or washing today, not like he cared for it usually. He shoved the first shit he could find on and walked to the bathroom. His clock glowing an angry red as he walked past. 7:30. Fuck, not even enough time for a morning sesh. He shoved his porn mag to the side and walked right up to the sink. Splashing cold water on his face, he ran his hand through his hair. Eh, good enough. He slipped his bag on and hurried out the door. What a shitty start to the day.
โ----------------------------------
There was one thing he would never get over. He was on his 4th year of high school and there was one question he could never answer. Why was everyone so fucking loud in the morning?
A pack of stupid broads in the corner, laughing and huddled together, throwing glares at the rest of the class. The nerdy, but boring freaks at the front. The sounds of zippers and books slamming as they prepped for class unusually early. Try-hards. Deep laughs hit like nails on a chalkboard in front of him as he watched the meathead jocks shadow box each other and leave a whiff of axe body spray as they moved. At the very front sat his old hag of a teacher who was probably too close to a retirement home to hear a damn thing anymore.
He sighed, trying to look away. Sat in his usual seat, it felt like he never woke up as the bright sun hit him right in the eyes as he turned. He dropped his head into the safety of his arms. Between the usual chatter and the blinding light, he felt like his head would explode. So caught up in feeling like shit, he hardly noticed the new silence.
Shifting in his now unusually loud seat, he finally caught up to reality. Slowly lifting his head, his eyes followed the still class to the front of the room.
There was a girl.
With the glare of the sun, he could hardly see more than her outline. He shoved his hand up like a shield, and finally, he saw her clearly.
Had he died and gone to Valhalla?
Surely, he died in his valiant dedication to fandom and was finally being rewarded for his efforts. With a heavenly glow surrounding her, there stood the most beautiful girl heโd ever seen. His eyes raked her top to bottom, from her shining eyes to her shifting feet. Christ, she was a wet dream reincarnated.
As his jaw hung slightly open and his eyes stayed glued to her form, he finally noticed his teacher motion her forwards. There was movement from the girlโs beautiful lips. Only it was too late. He had no idea what she said and she was walking right toward him. He forced his jaw to close and stood up in his seat slightly. Donโt wanna look like a pussy. He gulped as she got clearer and prettier. There was an empty seat next to him and he was certain she was gonna take it.
Visions overtook him of suavely talking her over as she laid her head on her hand, looking at him with the most desperate fuck-me eyes.
Heโd hand her a pencil, maybe an eraser too. Sheโd flutter her lashes at him and laugh at his jokes. Sheโd put her hand on his shoulder as she laughed and sheโd follow him as class ended right to the band room. He didnโt even take band, but he heard from Josh that kids got up to some freaky shit in the closets over there. Heโd undress her slowly andโ Nope, canโt think that far right now. Think of something else.
As his hopes soared, they were smashed into the fucking ground with the force of Mjรถlnir as she turned left. Oh, Fuck off. The stupid popular bitches were waving right at her, motioning her towards them. Just like that, he knew it was over. He felt like the world's biggest moron. Every bitch is the same, he knew it. He dropped his head in his hands again. It was going to be a long morning.
The bell brutally tore him from his nap and he immediately scrambled to get out. He speed walked toward the bathrooms, aching to get his one moment of peace going over Peteโs "Sci-fiโs Hottest Whores" scrapbook he made with magazines he stole from the supermarket. Obviously, hanging out by the bathrooms that had an air of shit from the broken plumbing wasnโt his favorite, but it was the clubโs only safehaven from bullies. He felt his tense shoulders relax as the club came into sight. As he nodded towards the boys and set his bag down, Jerry asked him how he was doing.
Bill groaned and his eyes narrowed. Jerry immediately regretted asking, but Bill already began his (first) rant of the day as he opened his leaky lunch bag. The club all brought their own lunches to school. They knew better than to go to the lunchline, where theyโd get robbed before they even got a glimpse of the food.
Bill ate and spoke at the same time, dropping crumbs everywhere. As he got to the part where he saw the new girl, he set his sandwich down and paused his messy bites. โIโm telling you, she was the most beautiful bitch Iโve ever laid eyes on. I almost bent her over my desk and took her right there,โ he grumbled as Pete raised an eyebrow and smirked.
Bill sighed and looked down, โFor a second, she looked just like the girl in my dreams. I really thought I had a good premonition going on there.โ
Josh was scarfing down his momโs meatloaf, not entirely interested in the conversation. โSo?โ he muttered through his mouth full of food.
Bill slammed his hand down as he continued, โShe was walking right to me! Till the stupid cheer whores motioned her over. And of course, she took the bait. Just like that, the love of my life is gone.โ
Pete rubbed his hands along his knees, โShe might not be yours, but if sheโs that hot she might be mine. Send her my way, yaโ?โ he smirked.
Bill sent him a deep glare, โOver my dead body. She wonโt want your shrimp dick, freak.โ
Josh laughed, again with his mouth full, โLike sheโd want yours. Sheโd need to be Bionic-1 to see a thing on you.โ
Jerry sighed, โShe wonโt want any of ours if she joins cheer. Sheโs gonna get passed around the jocks like a football.โ He fumbled through his magic cards, trying to sort his sliver deck. He was half listening to the conversation, too distracted by the task in front of him.
Bill kicked the cards right out of his hands, โDonโt say some shit like that around me. You got a cuck fetish or something?โ he sneered.
Jerry scrambled to pick up his cards, now definitely too distracted to listen to the conversation. Bill hardly had an appetite after that, realizing how right Jerry might be. He shoved his sandwich down his bag and wiped his hands on his pants. He took Peteโs scrapbook from Joshโs hands, โGimme that. Like you can see it over your fat fupa,โ he grumbled. Josh protested for it back but it fell on deaf ears.
______________________________
He hadnโt thought about her again for the rest of the school day. Once he was free from hell, anything school related trickled right out of his mind. He was walking out the main gate with the club, arguing about the X-Men Age of Apocalypse comic that made a totally bullshit turn in his opinion. His day had seemed to finally even out.
With a gentle breeze flowing through the trees and his jacket tied around his waist, he felt much lighter in the moment. The clumsy steps of the group against the pavement was all he could hear as he passionately continued his rant. He had just finished slapping Jerry across the head and cackling with Pete when a movement in front of him caught his eye.
He almost bit down on his tongue as he realized who it was. He felt a sudden lump in his throat and didnโt even notice the pause in his steps till the rest of the group were a few feet ahead of him.
It was her. She was walking in the opposite direction as the group, straight toward them. He stood in the middle of the path and anyone with an ounce of awareness in the moment would notice that he was in her way. Luckily, he was the dumbest motherfucker in the world at the moment. He failed to move out of the collision course and her gaze was too busy with her bag as she fumbled to get something out.
She rammed right into him and they fell with a thud.
He took note of her heavenly scent before anything else. It was almost good enough to distract him from how much of a fool he had just made out of himself. He didnโt have much time to ponder over it though, as he sat up on his knees and noticed her bagโs contents littered along the ground. His eyes lazily raked over the pile in his daze.
Until he spotted it.
If he was dazed before, he felt on the verge of a stroke now. His blood rushed to his head and his heart thundered like it would burst out of his chest. He started breathing manually as he felt himself break out in a cold sweat. His hands fumbled at his sides in a desperate attempt to ground himself.
Comics. Not just any comics. Not the stupid, girly romance kind. Dick Tracy comics. It didnโt take a detective to realize what that meant. As if his body was moving on its own, his hands shakily picked up the comics and he turned toward her.
The angel rubbed her shoulder as she looked up at him with a small smile on her shiny lips. Her eyes were soft and glittered as she looked at him. At least he thought so.
โIโm so sorry, I wasnโt looking at all,โ she said sheepishly.
Her voice felt like warm honey and the light seeping through the trees enveloped her in a beautiful glowing frame. Her head tilted and he felt as if he could see the gears turn in her mind. โWe have a class together, right? I remember you,โ she said with a smile.
At his newfound discovery that he had just gone mute, she continued. โI remember you because of your Magik shirt, I think youโve got good taste.โ His mind short circuited as he looked down. He had no memory of even picking it out this morning and it was slightly stainedโฆ wait, how did she know who Magik was?
He felt like he was going to pass out and struggled to find his voice. It cracked as he choked the question out, โAre these yours?โ he questioned as he held out the comics. Her eyes widened and she quickly reached out for them.
โOh fuck, yeah, those are mine. Hope I didnโt scratch them up, they were in mint condition when I got them,โ she said as she squinted and flipped them around to inspect them.
And he was a goner.
He smiled at her. A real, albeit shy, smile. Maybe he had never woken from his dream after all.
Still in amazement, his thoughts stumbled out of his upturned lips, โYouโre heavy.โ She tilted her head at him with a blank expression. Oh. Wait, fuck. โI. I meant your bag. It looks heavy. Ya need help?โ he stammered as his face burned.
She smiled softly and nodded โYeah, thanks.โ She dusted her knees as she rose, โso, you like Dick Tracy too?โ she asked.
He nodded, suddenly growing uncharacteristically shy. Fuck. How the hell do you talk to girls? He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants as he rushed to pick up the rest of her things. It was the only thing he could think to do as his mind scrambled to think of a pick-up line. Should he tell her he had a 10 pack of condoms ready if she could handle it? He wiped the thought from his mind, he didnโt even know where to get condoms or how they worked. Although, obviously she liked him if she was keeping up a conversation with him for this long. Maybe it was worth looking into. He hurriedly stuffed her things back in her bag before putting it on. Was he seriously gonna carry a girlโs bag for her? He looked up, ready to protest.
His words died on his tongue when she held her hand out and smiled at him. Christ, l need to see her in some erotic cosplay. As his shaky hand touched hers, he felt like he was born again. Her soft skin made his heart throb and he felt like he just came down with a fever. Iโm touching a real life girl. His knees felt weak as he attempted to rise. Any issue he had with carrying her bag was gone.
Heโd kick a kid into oncoming traffic if she asked, as long as sheโd keep touching him like that.
____________________________
Unbeknownst to Bill, his friends stood frozen in place a few feet away. The club was too shocked to do anything but watch. A cold, eerie feeling washed over them all. A girl being nice to Bill. And Bill being nice to a girl. Theyโve got to be in hell. The world has to be ending. Someoneโs gotta call the fucking police.
โWhat the fuck,โ muttered Pete.
Jerry stood slack jawed and Josh hadnโt even noticed he dropped his brand new Superboy comic.
A cold breeze carried their silence. Yet, Bill had never felt warmer.
//slight suggestiveness// dwayne and paul ur fav facebook couple ๐ ft other online shenanigans
๐ โ tsukishima kei x f!reader
โ synopsis: something about the stars has always intrigued tsukishima, how even in the dusk of the night, the brighest star would light up the world and burn itself in the process. he also didn't know what to do when that star had turned into the person who seemed to make his days just a little bit better.
โ warnings: nothing much, except angst. just soft yet also mean tsukishima who doesn't know what to do with those feelings of his. maybe he's a little ooc. based on "andromeda" by weyes blood.
stars, so miniscule, so far away from his touch, so beautiful even with the stygian waters that it swims on.
every night, after practice, tsukishima would walk his lethargic body home with his headphones in his ears, his neck bent backwards it could snap. but he didn't care, he wanted to watch the stars move and follow him.
he wanted to watch all the dead stars who shined the brightest, the stars that had turned into supernovas, the stars that are created. and he felt at peaceโ the soft rhythm and reverb of the song humming in his ears, and the stars that lead him home.
and occasionally, adding to his visual and auditory senses, a sweet drink on the palate of his tongue made his evenings better.
tonight was no different.
he had just bid his goodbye to his teammates, although timidly and without masking that annoyance he'd always bore against the little tangerine boy who always had a little too much energy.
tsukishima begins his journey, using the stars as his map, putting his hands in his pockets. yamaguchi hadn't joined him for tonight. actually, he hasn't joined him in a while, always walking yachi home, using her "safety" as an excuse (it really was the reason, but obviously there was another one).
still, he didn't mind the absence of his friend.
anri's soft doo-wop brings pleasantries in his ears as the song begins. his fingers tap inside the pocket of his gym shorts. he looks up at the night sky and connects his own constellations. tsukishima wonders if those stars ever know that they're being admired by millions of people in this planet, even if they'd died billions of years ago.
as a child, he used to think that the stars were the meteors that had killed his beloved dinosaurs. and every night, he would refuse to look up. but then akiteru, despite finding humor in his little brother's childish belief, had decided to tell him the difference between meteors and stars. and then added more information about those stars.
so now tsukishima loved three things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, and stars.
his feet patter softly on the cobblestone that serves as a pathway to his home, the cool air drying the sweat off his temples and cooling his back, which reminds him to wipe his sweat when he gets home before he showers to avoid getting sick.
and then he suddenly comes in contact with a small body.
just outside of sakanoshita market, tsukishima's chest bursts in sudden (but light) pain from the person's elbow. and that person had emit a small noise of surprise and pain, stumbling backwards.
tsukishima was just about to snap, tell the person to look where they had been going and call them an idiot when his eyes met yours.
they're wide, irises darkened from the night's haze, and you're clutching your elbow, headphones askew. you rub the soft skin, a small pout on your lips and tsukishima wonders how painful was it for you to pout like this.
then you look at him and he feels the air stuck in his throat.
pretty.
"oh! sorry. i didn't mean to bump into you." you bow in front of him, hands pliant at your sides. tsukishima's at lost for words, lips only parted and looking at you. he still hasn't said anything when you bring yourself back up again.
"it's- it's okay." he finally stammers out, pausing his music and moving his headphones off from one ear. "sorry for not looking either." tsukishima bows slightly, just tilting the top half of his body.
you smile lightly at him, hanging your own headphones around your neck, scanning his figure. he suddenly feels shy under your curious gaze, watching as you read the print on the left side of his chest.
"karasuno...? ka-karasuno! i go there," you laugh lightly, like that discovery was the greatest news you'd ever heard. "i don't think i've seen you around. well, maybe because i'm new. i'm such a dumbass."
though the last sentence being a whisper, tsukishima contradicts: "n-no. i haven't seen you around either." he takes one step forward towards you, didn't expect himself to be nearer than he'd planned. "tsukishima kei."
you tell him yours in a polite manner, with a smile so bright you'd beat the stars that hover both of your bodies. "you're part of the volleyball club, aren't you?"
he hopes you don't see his wavering blush in the dim lights. "yes."
"cool! what position?"
"middle blocker."
"that's so cool," you face him, neck bent upwards to meet his eyes, hands forming into excited fists in front of you, like how hinata would get enthusiastic about something. "you're really tall. i bet, i mean if you could, you'd hit the streetlights when you jump."
that theory piques his curiosity. his eyebrows raise. "i haven't given it a thought. i will try it soon though." tsukishima finally removes his headphones and leaves them around his neck. he points to the bag in her hands. "what'd you buy?"
"chocolate milk. ukai-chan is your coach, right?"
"how'd you know?"
"i see him enter the gym everyday after classes. he owns this store," your head motions behind you. "can you tell him his mom is a little mean? i actually preferred it when he was watching over the store."
tsukishima smiles a little. "can't. he's our coach. he might actually drop us for his store."
your laugh may be brighter than anything else in existence.
"okay, well, see you around tsukishima-san." you smile at him, the pearls of your teeth glinting in the moonlight, the whiskers of your eyes denote the glee you've obtained from him and tsukishima softens just a little. you wave at him and walk past him.
he turns around, and even though your back was to him, his hand lifts and waves at you.
tsukishima walks home happier than he expected, a small smile lingering on his face.
๐ โ
"who you looking for, tsukki?"
yamaguchi serves his friend a teasing smile, holding the tray carefully in his hands. tsukishima looks down at his friend and deadpans:
"shut up, yamaguchi."
"sorry tsukki."
they sit down on the table hinata and kageyama sit on, the two bantering quite loudly on which flavored milk was the best and is advisable to increase their energy. kageyama says: "banana, you dumbass."
hinata argues that: "it's chocolate! it makes people hyper for a reason. could you watch your language?!"
tsukishima and yamaguchi sit beside each other, their backs to the window of the cafeteria, which meant that tsukishima has a view of the entire room, his height being an advantage despite the large crowds.
he blindly brings his bento out of his box, his eyes never leaving the heedless crowd. yamaguchi, ever the curious, most specifically the friend who always wondered what it is that ran through tsukishima's mind, asked again: "seriously, tsukki, who are you looking for?"
tsukishima huffs. "just sawamura-san. i need a-advice. on my blocks." the lie slips easily off his tongue that yamaguchi can't decide between believing him or forcing the truth out of him.
but tsukishima is slightly disappointed that even after five minutes, he still can't see the color of your hair amidst the throng of students. though his face might say otherwise (rbf), he can't help but feel a little sad.
maybe the star isn't shining so bright today.
he pokes and prods at the vegetables placed on top of his rice, stabbing the carrot and shoving it in his frowning mouth. he doesn't notice that hinata has been observingโ no, looking at him. because hinata was never the type of person who could be discreet.
"stingyshima, you look sad," he doesn't know if it's a tease or not, but maybe it is. "is he looking for someone, yamaguchi?"
"i don't know," he shrugs. "he says he's looking for sawamura-san."
"he's right there," kageyama jabs his finger behind him, seeing daichi in line for the cafeteria food. "your blocks haven't been good? figured."
"sorry if i haven't lived up to your standards, king." tsukishima sneers. yamaguchi and hinata laugh, kageyama burning in his seat.
eating his lunch ended quite faster than he thought it would, and soon he finds himself walking along the hallway of the school building waiting for the remaining free time to end. so his boredom drags his feet towards the nearest vending machine.
the device on his ears blocked out all the haze and noise of the world, which left him in his own environment. it eased the nerves that trickled along his veins, rubbed the tension off his shoulders. in his own milieu, he could think whatever and say whatever and do whatever.
just like how stars form themselves however they please, explode and die whenever they want to. tsukishima didn't have better knowledge of stars than he knew of dinosaurs, but it was his own thought and he had the freedom to think whatever it is (although of course, with just a little bit of accuracy and validity).
tsukishima's eyes scan the plastic divisions for the sight of any strawberry drinks. when they land on one, he types the number and slips the cash in. the conveyor belts begin to twist.
but much to his dismay, when the drink was pushed, it never fell.
he tuts in frustration, his head falling backwards to release a tired, irritated sigh.
and then you pop up beside him.
tsukishima jumps lightly when he sees you put your head out and smile at him, clutching his heaving chest. somehow, your laugh had managed to drown out the song in his ears; he doesn't mind though. he thinks your smile was the most beautiful orchestra ever conducted.
he puts his headphones around his neck. "they're incredibly annoying, aren't they?" you smile up at him. "here, i'll help you."
suddenly, you begin to violently shake the vending machine. tsukishima almost feels embarrassed for you, but the lack of audience has rid that feeling. you, with your height, looked like a child angrily throwing a tantrum and had transferred your anger towards an object.
nonetheless, adorable.
finally, the strawberry drink fell down, and you squat to pick it up from the port to give it to him. tsukishima takes it from you and says: "thank you."
"no problem!" you beam at him. "i was actually looking for you earlier. i couldn't see you. did you eat at your classroom?"
tsukishima removes the plastic of his straw. "no. i was at the cafeteria." he doesn't want to admit he's looking for you too, but he hopes you can see it in his eyes.
(you don't. to you, he looked uninterested and entertained at the same time. very hard to read)
"aw, alright. well, i was just wondering if you'd like to, uh, switch emails?" you're shy and he finds it amusing. "not switch like i use yours and you use mine, but switch like i take yours and you take mine... so we could text each other..."
he wants to say that he knows, he's not dumb. but youโ your eager eyes of softness look up at him and he forgets how to be so cruel and cold. like you were the kind of fire to melt the falling snowflakes. tsukishima nods.
"sure." he pulls his phone out with one hand from his pocket and hands it to you. you take it and give your phone to him, and it felt smaller in his hands.
when you exchange phones again, there's shyness written across your face. tsukishima can't help but blush with the way the sun kisses your skin the way it would to tainted windowsโ radiating colors so beautiful he can't help but simply be at awe towards you.
a star is created somewhere far away. tsukishima's heart skips a beat.
"i was actually looking for you, too. earlier." he admits, putting his phone back in his pocket. "i couldn't see you. sorry."
"don't be sorry!" there goes that smile again, always making his heart flip. "we both struggled anyway."
"do you want anything?" he points to the vending machine. "chocolate? banana? strawberry?"
"can i try yours first?"
tsukishima pauses, the straw in his mouth just finishing his sip. there's innocence in your eyes that riles him up the wall in ludicrous ways. he slowly takes the straw out between his lips and hands it to you, with you greedily taking it from him before his hand met you halfway.
he swears he could've been redder than any other person in the world when you so shamelessly put his straw in your mouth.
should i be worried about the germs or the fact that we kind of just kissed but not really?
when you sip, you swallow and he can see your brain ponder on what decision you were going to make. you hand it back to him and say: "yeah, i like that one, too."
how could you act like you didn't just drink from his straw?
tsukishima gets you one, this time without shaking the vending machine and hands it to you.
"thank you." you say, your smile adding to your gratitude.
though it seems as if time has reached its end and a familiar sound rings across the hallway that reminds the both of you that the free time was over. tsukishima sees your pout but you don't directly show it to him.
"well, see you around, tsukishima!" you wave goodbye to him, walking away.
tsukishima stands still, staying at his place. his drink was no longer cold, the condensation dripping down his fingers.
somehow, the colors are brighter, the drink was sweeter, the tension from his body had disappeared, and everything else felt lighter. and even if you were no longer standing in his proximity, that luster you left behind etched itself to him.
you were now his new environment.
๐ โ
you. hi tsukishima! 3:13pm
when his phone dings, he places his waterbottle to his side, tuning out the sound of squeaking shoes and bouncing balls. he sees your name on the screen. he doesn't hesitate to text back.
tsukishima. Hi. 3:13pm
his palms sweat from simply typing that greeting. but his heart seems to beat faster and his chest feels light. he didn't expect that you'd text right away. nevertheless, he feels elated to see you text him.
you. didnt see u at the gates earlier during dismissal, do u have training today? 3:15pm
tsukishima. Yes. 3:15pm
you. oh really? until what time? 3:18pm
tsukishima. 7. 3:18pm
you. okay! thats kind of tiring haha. 3:20pm
tsukishima. It is. 3:20pm
he winces at the possible tone he may deliver, so he adds:
tsukishima. Haha. 3:20pm
"bruh, you text so lame."
it seems that tanaka had been peaking over his shoulder as the conversation ensued. tsukishima hugs his phone to his chest and glares at him. "that's invasion of privacy."
"and that's how to lose a girl," he points at his phone. "you text like you're so uninterested."
yamaguchi looks at the two. "who's tsukki texting?"
"some girl named, uh,โ"
"no one." tsukishima snaps. "no one."
"oh, it must be the one tsukishima was looking for earlier," hinata runsโ or skips towards them. "stingyshima flirting? i wonder how you look like. i'm smart, but i won't tell you that i'm a smartass because i wanna impress you with my blocking skills. i'm so cool and so tall."
tsukishima hates how hinata mimics him. he bites back. "oh, i'm hinata. i'm so small."
much to his dismay, even sugawara had joined in. "you could tell her that, you know, i'm so tired. but i'm drinking water so that's good enough for me already."
he responds with respect, though dripping his annoyance. "sugawara-san, please don't mimic me."
his phone vibrates again, and everyone else leans in to look. tsukishima snarls and moves away from them, clutching his dear phone to his chest.
you. any chance we could drink later? 3:27pm
you. not alcohol, of course. just milk or juice, or a shake, even yogurt. although, we can't drink yogurt... 3:27pm
tsukishima feels yamaguchi peer over his shoulder, and he knows its him because of that distinct smell of his. he doesn't hide the phone away even when yamaguchi says: "she's asking you out! go!"
"calm down, yamaguchi."
he shakily types his response.
tsukishima. Sure. By the store again? 3:27pm
three dots, he's awaiting for your response.
you. okay! see you there :) 3:28pm
๐ โ
his practice ends at 7 on the dot. tsukishima has never left faster in his life.
though he was always the first to leave, bidding them goodbye before walking his way home. this was differentโ his goodbye bore that sense of urgency with a twinge of excitement as he clumsily slipped his regular shoes on, walking as fast as he could away from the school campus.
coach ukai had actually offered that they go back to the store together, but tsukishima was in a rush.
it was an eight minute walk to the store. he got there in five.
you were no longer wearing your school uniform. you had your hands at your sides, rocking back in forth from the heels of your feet, your headphones bobbing along with your head as you listened to your song. tsukishima wonders how he would approach you.
a tap on the shoulder? yell your name? appear in front of you? should he turn you around violently and smile awkwardly? should heโ
"tsukishima-san!"
he didn't realize that he had spaced out, blinking. you approach tsukishima as you discard your headphones to hang them around your neck, stopping just a few friendly feet from him.
"how was practice?" you pip. "you look exhausted."
tsukishima reddens. "i'm alright. same practice anyway," he rubs the back of his neck. "should we go inside? i'm thirsty."
he hopes he doesn't sound too demanding. but you reacted normally, gave him a pretty smile, and led your way towards the store.
coach ukai's mother sat behind the counter, sporting the same cigarette in her mouth, a garbled greeting escaping her without bothering to look up as she read her newspaper. you and tsukishima find your way to the back where the drinks are.
he opens the door for you, the appliance bulb casting a white glow over your face as you bent and searched for what drink made your veins twitch with excitement.
"by the way, you know yachi hitoka?" you balance your hands on your knees, looking up at him. "she's your manager right? i'm in her class!"
"really?" he queries, swallowing thickly. "you're really smart, then. it's one of the higher classes."
"i try," you shrug shyly, looking back at the selection of drinks. "anyway, i asked her about you. she said that you were a middle blocker, 6 foot something, and that she liked your friend yamaguchi? i don't know, she said it then she denied it."
"oh, she likes him alright," he chuckles. "he walks her home every night."
"really?!" you pick up two cans of coke and clutch them to your chest, standing upwards. tsukishima shyly reaches for another strawberry drink. "i'm mad at her for not telling me that."
you make your way to the front with tsukishima following behind you. you place the contents on the counter, the woman behind muttering something you can't discern as she scanned your orders.
"are you allowed to stay out a little longer?" you ask him, the soft beeps of the drinks grazing his ears. he shrugs again, reaching for his wallet.
"yeah, sure. do you want to do something?" he places the payment on the counter before you were able to take your own cash out. you pout.
"i was going to pay for mine."
"it's alright. it wasn't that expensive, anyway." he smiles a little at you. and it was the first time tsukishima had ever smiled kindly at anyone, except yamaguchi, his mom, and akiteru. "you were saying?"
you pop open your can. "i found this really nice spot where you can stargaze. and, honestly, i'm bored and tomorrow's the weekend. i would have invited you to do this tomorrow, but we're here now!"
he laughs through his nose. "i'm free anytime."
when you both approach the exit, coach ukai and the team stand by the open doors. tsukishima stops on his tracks, his mouth parted the slighest as you tip your head back to drink your soda. when your head comes back in place, your eyes settle on the crowd upon you.
"oh, hello ukai-san!"
tsukishima looks at you through his peripherals before darting his eyes back front. they all snicker, eyes widened at the sight in front of themโ cold, narcissistic, mean tsukishima kei, with probably the nicest girl in all of karasuno. yachi waves at you.
"is that why you were rushing to get out, tsukishima?" ukai teases, a cigarette hanging loosely off his lips. "i see you've met my number 1 customer."
he blushes when he's exposed, and he ignores the way you give him a surprised glance.
"so you must be the girl he was texting earlier," tanaka approaches you, offers his hand. "forgive him. he sounds lame when he texts, but trust me if you saw his face he looked likeโ"
"tanaka-san." tsukishima almost pleads.
while shaking his hand, yachi approaches you with yamaguchi behind her. "this is why you asked me about him!"
"shut up, yachi."
tsukishima could die right then and there. melt into a puddle of sweat and embarrassment. there were words exchanged between you and his ever loving team, the heat on his face becoming hotter and hotter at every second.
he wishes he could leave now.
by the time hinata begins to ask you a question about tsukishima's attitude, he sighs loudly. "excuse us, but we have to head out now."
you look at him again. "we do?"
"yes, we do," he looks down at you. "you told me, remember?"
you smile at him, recollecting your invitation. "oh, yes! we should get going."
you offer your goodbyes to the curious group. tsukishima wallows in discomfort, walking away with his shoulders slightly slumped and a hand in his pocket.
"i like them," you tell him, drinking your coke. "they're nice."
"they're really not," he takes a sip of his drink. "if you hung out with them, you'd be just as annoyed as i was."
his "joke" makes you laugh. first he thinks what could be so funny about his comment, then he realizes you don't actually know that he wasn't joking. the thought makes him swoon just a little.
"so why stargazing?" his and your feet are synchronized, stepping on the uneven cobblestone to the destination that tsukishima still doesn't know. your shoulder is closed to his when you walk; he resists the urge to put his hand out so that they'd graze your fingers, feeling the heat rub on his calloused skin.
"yesterday, when you walked home, i looked back and saw you look up at the sky," you reply. "and i realized that "oh, he stargazes too!" so i decided to bring you to my spot."
"your spot?" you hum in agreement. "why?"
"because it's nice to share the feeling of looking up at beautiful stars." you throw your now empty can onto a nearby bin, opening your second one. "i figured maybe you might feel the same way i do."
if it was admiration then yes, he felt the same way you did.
๐ โ
tsukishima realizes the walk was 10 minutes away from his home. now you're both standing at a hill where you can see all the houses nearby and karasuno at the other side.
you sit down on the ground, he copies you. his bottom sits on the soft soil, his fingers prickled by the grass, and the cold smell of the meadow enters his nostrils.
he thinks that everything is happening a little too fast โ he had only met you yesterday, exchanged emails earlier, went out to buy drinks, and now you're both sitting at a hill stargazing like it's a date. your optimism and kindness shakes him a little, leaving him with an unknown thought of what he could possibly do as of this moment.
yet he's still here, watching you gaze at the stars, the sheer glow of the moon kissing your cheeks, the stars reflecting off the mosaic of your eyes. you're radiating this cordial heat that wraps around his right arm that rests just millimeters away from you.
"told you it's pretty," you beam, lips parted, never sparing him a glance. "you see that? that's cassiopea right there."
you point to the sky and squint, and it's only then tsukishima takes his eyes off you and follow the direction of your fingerprint.
you trace the invisible strings that connect each star to one another. blearily, his imagination turns those strings into silver. tsukishima draws nearer towards you, his shoulder now bumping yours, his pinkie grazing the skin of your finger.
"andromeda isn't here yet. but it's the one i've been waiting for the most," you turn your head to look at him.
tsukishima's breath hitches when he realizes that he may have underestimated how close the proximity he had created was, your breath fanning his face. he senses your surprise, the way the bottom of your eyes twitch lightly and your nose scrunches a little.
"i figure maybe they arive in a few weeks," he murmurs. he can sense your surprise and says: "you're not the only one who knows about stars."
"yeah? figured you were more into dinosaurs."
"that's true," he sniffles, you giggle. "when i was a kid i thought that the stars were the ones who killed the dinosaurs. so every night, when i see them, i would always cry 'cause i thought that they might fall here and kill us all."
"pessimist, huh?" when your head tilts up, your chin bumps his shoulder. "anything else i should know about you?"
"there's one thing i want to tell you but i've been making it plainly obvious."
"you have a knack for strawberries."
"yes," he smiles a little, the whites of his teeth appearing between his thin lips. "i like music."
"so do i."
"yeah? what genre?"
"...anri..."
"really?" tsukishima's eyes brighten, maybe even brighter than the stars. "i like her music."
"i thought you were kind of a japanese rock kind of guy."
"i can be many things," you look back up to the sky, your eyes darting between each individual star like you're tracing another constellation. tsukishima's tracing the features of your face like it was his constellation.
"yachi says you're mean, but in a way that brings up the team's drive to play harder," you say into the wind. "please don't be mean to me. i cry easily."
tsukishima wonders if he can even smile more than he is now. "i'll try my best. you're giving me a lot of reasons to be mean right now."
"but you're not being mean to me right now," you poke his glasses and shove them to his face, hurting the bridge of his nose. albeit tsukishima doesn't mutter a single complaint. "you're just being dorky."
"i am not!" he balances his body with one hand behind him, the other tugging on the end of your hair.
"now you're just being childish!"
your laugh beats out all the songs he had to search for to complete every single of his playlists. it was as soft as silk, as dulcet as violins; it was something he'd play on repeat when it played on his headphones. and your sweet laughed matched the way your face became even more beautiful.
tsukishima feels his heart beat a little bit faster.
a star explodes. supernova.
he no longer feels wearied from practice, his body languid from comfort in your presence. and just like last night, he was happy his day ended with something that lacked the usual bothersome feeling in his chest, but something that decompressed every constraint muscle in his body and think of something else that made the corner of his lips smile and his heart elated.
that's why when he went back home, when his mother and akiteru (who was visiting) were dead asleep, he silently descended to his room with a smile on his face, brushed his teeth with the sound of your laugh echoing in his ears, changed his clothes with your scent somehow lingering, and went to be thinking about you.
๐ โ
the past few weeks were more eventful than the days he had to train for the inter-high preliminaries.
the more he saw you, the more he felt himself unwinding like a diurnal motion, every trust and rigor travelling through his veins whenever your aura touched his opalescent skin.
you were the succor to his weary bones. you were the happiness that he never truly found in others. you were the light brighter than the stars could ever give him in the dark.
secrets were passed the way notes would in classes.
you got a sweet tooth? what dessert do you like?
strawberry shortcake, tsukishima said. no regrets, no embarrassment. pure adoration.
did you know that velociraptors aren't actually that big?
yeah? how'd you know that, tsukishima?
it's called reading, he'd roll his eyes. you're in the highest class and you don't read?
his retorts were never used to add insult to injury. that's what he liked about youโ you knew when he was serious and when he wasn't despite the fact that tsukishima believed that he was hard to read. it seemed like you were able to read him better than yamaguchi has.
his heart aches at the thought. the ache, painful but so good, but something that he could not discern the true intention.
but he could never let you in him. never in his life.
you. saw a frog and it looked like you. loser. 12:51pm
you and tsukishima had exchanged countless of texts that contained topics that he never expected himself to be indulging in. that familiar ding! of his phone reminded him of you already, because you'd been the only one who constantly texted him more than yamaguchi has.
(also because, well, he set up a different tone for you.)
tsukishima sees your name pop up in a rectangular notification on his screen. he opens it with sweaty hands and a towel over his head, his thumbs typing out a snarky reply.
tsukishima. How could a frog look like me, (y/n)? That's dumb. 12:51pm
he ruffles his towel over his damp curls, the sweat on his temples being sucked into the cloth. he watches the three bubbles appear on your side and you say:
you. because i said so. look! 12:52pm
the attached image looked far from what tsukishima looks like. it was a regular frog, beside a pond, with no thoughts. he rolls his eyes.
tsukishima. I don't see it. 12:53pm
you. thats because youre not LOOKING. do u see his eyes? literally you. i think its the mouth, haha 12:54pm
he laughs either way despite not having seen any similarities. but laughing seemed to be a mistake, as he forgot where he was at the moment.
"quit laughing, tsukishima. you'll slack off," kageyama taunts from afar, face etched into an arrogant smirk. yamaguchi approaches him, peeking over tsukishima's shoulder to snoop on the conversation.
"are you worried i'll ruin your game, king?" tsukishima rubs the back of his neck, tilting his chin upwards. "my apologies."
you send him another text: omw there to see u :p 12:59pm
the latter's growl was overpowered by yamaguchi's hum of interest. "tsukki, that frog does look like you."
"yamaguchi, how nosy are you?"
"nosy enough to ask when will you tell her that you like her?"
tsukishima's eyebrows furrow. he did not like you. during those weeks, the both of you did more than just exchange texts in any time of dayโ often you'd meet after classes and buy a drink when he didn't have practice; sometimes you'd wait for him until seven in the evening so you'd both go up the hill again and talk mindlessly about things that tickled your brains.
in those few weeks, he had learned more about himself than he ever had with anyone else.
and he feels, though never actually given any attention to, that his days ended with a smile on his face rather than feeling boredom creeping up his shoulder like a grim reaper would on a dying soul.
instead, it felt like he was resurrected; tsukishima felt like a shooting star falling through evening, the fire pulsing through his veins as he fell. with you, he felt like everything else had color, that everything else made sense.
his life became brighter that it seemed like hinata's hair was actually on fire from the bright orange hues.
so no, he did not like you.
"i don't like her." he wipes the sweat that dripped onto his glasses. "don't be ridiculous."
"yesterday, when you were eating, you kept talking about how this (y/n) girl told you how the dinosaurs from jurassic park were created. and all of us were talking about one piece."
"so? it's way more interesting."
"but not her?"
"yamaguchi," he bemoans. "nothing is interesting about her."
that lie. that sickeningly, macabre, heartbreaking lie that it even hurt him to say it. tsukishima also doesn't understand why yamaguchi has a horrified face plastered on him, but he realizes he wasn't looking at his friend, and was looking behind him.
he whips his head around.
the tips of your shoes had mud on them from the dampened soil. your umbrella hung loosely around your wrist and dripped on the ground. your fingers clasped around a small contained with what seemed to be strawberry shortcaked that looked delectable enough to make his stomach hurt. and your chest heaved from what he assumed was the aftermath of rapid walking.
despite the sight that had made his head spin, the affliction that twitched from your frowning lips and the gloss that made your eyes shine from dejection had turned the situation into something so monotone he feels like his soul had just left life.
a star dies in the middle of the galaxy.
tsukishima thinks the regret plastered on his face may be seen. he hopes that it is.
the sound of squeaking shoes and ricocheting balls continue, but the ringing of his ears are louder. you swallow thickly, shuffling on your feet, and approach him hesitantly like he'd burn you if you were near him.
"i brought you this because you looked so pale yesterday after you practiced," you say softly, though he could hear the pain in your tone. tsukishima takes the container from your reaching hand, and swears he sees your breath hitch when his fingers graze yours.
"thank youโ"
"see you around, tsukishima," you bow, before you hurriedly leave the gymnasium.
it felt like the room was shrinking rapidly on him, his muscles pressing in on his body in a suffocating manner. yamaguchi puts his hand on tsukishima's shoulder, leaning down to check in on his distraught friend.
"tsukki," his eyebrows are raised in concern, voice loud enough to snap tsukishima out of his pity daze but low enough that everybody else remained distracted. "hey..."
"i'm fine," he looks up at him. "it's nothing. i'm- i'm fine. let's just go back to practice."
his fists clench when he shoves the cake into his bag and walks back into the court. his blocks are futile when he thinks of your eyes. his serves hit the net when he thinks of the frown pasted on your lips. and he feels himself at the bottom of the game when another star dies.
he just doesn't know if it was his or yours. could a heart break two times?
๐ โ
tsukishima had a crisp trepidation towards the true veneer of love.
he believes he was too young for that, that he was in a stage where he would have this deep passion for things that were alive albeit something that he can't touch nor interconnect withโ hense is unfathomable love for dinosaurs, stars, and strawberry shortcake.
so whatever it is that he was feeling for you โ he doesn't know if it's love. tsukishima feels like he could die if he didn't see you for a single day; his feet and his body restless up until you both meet after practice.
tsukishima is even more restless now.
there wasn't a single text from you since 12:59 in the afternoon.
there was almost a hundred texts from tsukishima since 3:00pm, the time he had excused himself early from his practice.
he lays on his bed, his headphones on but no music. he wasn't in the mood to put himself up in brighter spirits. his back rests uncomfortably on the thick mattress, his curls splayed across his pillow, a hand on his chest and a hand holding a fork, his feet spread apart.
and the strawberry shortcake you gave him rests on his chest, half eaten, his mouth chewing sadly on the sweet delicacy.
"do you think stars have thoughts?" you asked. tsukishima found this beguiling and preposterous simultaneously, however the curiosity that happened to lift his lips into a dazed smile made him release a teasing retort:
"you certainly don't."
you threw a grape at him. he caught it with an open mouth. the sun was about to set, but the warmth was enough to prevent the both of you from shivering idiotically on the hill at the cold breeze. "i'm approaching an epiphany, asshole."
your vulgarity made him smile more. "celestial bodies, more specifically stars, do not have thoughts. but they're alive, and they function into a cycle."
"unorthodox minds like mine go out of the box," you rolled your eyes. "sorry, i'll put it in simpler terms so you could understand. i have a very creative mind."
"oh yeah?" tsukishima tilted his head sideways to present his interest. "and what'd you mean by that?"
"you know how stars die and create themselves?" you queried. "it's like how phoenixes rise from the ashes as they're reborn. but when a star resurrects, they're called "zombie stars," right?"
"yeah."
"and i'm not saying that they have a mind of their own, but if you were to input your own thoughts into a star, then yeah, it's like they resurrect themselves to live on with life over and over again, and don't you think that's exhausting? they're like dead stars, and they still shine brightly, and it's ironic, right? because something that has been dead billions of years ago still shine. it has a meaning into it that people just... completely ignore."
"so an analogy?" his eyebrow raised.
"yeah, something like that," you licked your lips. "when you see a bright star, and you don't know if it's a dead star. but imagine stargazing and finding love in something that has been dead long ago."
tsukishima's body softened. "uhuh."
"but what if you keep loving that star? and that star just receives so much of that love that they're able to resurrect themselves. well, obviously loving a star isn't actually gonna bring it back to life because there's a separate scientific explanation for that, but i'm saying thatโ that if you love something, or someone, hard enough that you're able to bring light into their lives, then that's possible.
and they take all that love for the benefit of their life and... they burst into something beautiful called supernovas."
tsukishima stared at you, his gaze ever so adoringly. "and what's the point of this epiphany of yours?"
"that loving someone that has been gone inside their body is possible to save them and bring them back to life to turn them into someone even more beautiful."
tsukishima sits back up, a whiplash from the quick commotion.
it was already night when his thin curtains were tainted black from the dark glow of the evening.
he pushes himself off his bed, slip his way out of his home and clumsily puts his shoes on to find you.
and he knows exactly where you are.
so it's no surprise when he sees you all alone, laying down on the meadow of the hill, blooming flowers grazing your cheeks in any way the wind blows. tsukishima stands and stares at you longingly, his fingers twitching beside him.
"(y/n)."
he says your name like an oath to the stars. you sit up, hearing his voice, cheeks dry with tears melting onto your skin. tsukishima's heart breaks the slightest when he brings himself up the hill.
"what are you doing here?" you ask him, voice so small he'd think you were whispering.
to his surprise, tsukishima falls onto his knees in front of you. he finds it endearing that despite the reduce of his height, you still look up at him. then he takes your hands into his, his thumbs tracing every ridge of your knuckles, looking deep into your eyes.
"i didn't mean what i said." he declares like he was under jurisdiction of the judge. "you areโ... the most interesting woman in the world. the most beguiling, the most entrusting, the most beautiful."
your eyebrows furrow, hands shaking in his grasp. "what are you saying?"
"that i'm an asshole." he admits. "you are so interesting that every epiphany of yours pulls me back on the ground and into you. that epiphany you had about dead stars that resurrect themselves from getting so much love? shit, (y/n), that may be me."
you let out a tiny gasp, maybe a breath of reliefz his face is so close to yours, his knees in between your legs, bumping the side of your thighs. "what?"
"iโ... i don't know if you love me. you don't have to. but you've made my days brighter and gave my life meaning that i felt like i was resurrected. like all the pieces in me were brought back together. and everything else just felt... alive."
finally, you smile. just a little, but it was enough to make the grass greener and the color of your shirt turn pastel, your eyes vibrant in the night. "yeah?"
"yeah," he laughs, idiotically he may add. "i like you. i like you so much. i like you more than i like dinosaurs."
you guffaw, throwing your head back, hands never letting go.
a star resurrects. a supernova explodes.
"i like you more," you say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
it was enough for him to jump on you to press his lips on your awaiting mouth, gently pressing you down on the grass, his hand on the back of your head to soften the blow as he settles himself in between your legs.
his mouth, sweet with strawberries and ardor, his hair soft like flowers when your fingers tangle on the golden locks, his glasses pressing against the space between your eyebrows and the bridge of your nose, his tongue that hovers respectfully on top of your bottom lip.
innocent, lips full of solicitude, he kisses you deeper and with care, his head tilting to open his mouth the slightest so that he could get closer to you. the small sound that emits from your mouth makes him pull back and smile shyly.
his eyes had the galaxies reflected off his eyes that it made space seem like they were golden from his irises. you take his glasses off, placing them beside you, and let your hands rest on his face; tucking his hair behind his ear as you do so.
and above your intertwined bodies, andromeda swims across the stygian night sky, traced by invisible strings. just as tsukishima predicted.
tsukishima could stare at you for the rest of his life.
tsukishima loved four things: dinosaurs, strawberry shortcake, stars, and most especially:
you.
reblogs and feedback are appreciated!
Summary: Dean isnโt too keen on how close you and a stray have been getting lately
Word count: 0.6k
A/n: NO HATE AGAINST ANY DOGS!!! We love dogs, and Dean loves dogs, just not the one youโve been getting close to
A/a/n: Yโall I just got done with the first set of workouts this summer, for school. And OMG it literally killed me, I donโt know if I can do this all summer.
เผบโโโโโโโโโโโโโโเผป
Dean had always loved dogs. Ever since he was a little boy all the way to the burly man that he currently was, his heart had always had a special spot for the canines.ย
Until, you had rescued one from a hunt.ย
A week. Minimum. Thatโs how long you and the brothers had agreed to keep the animal until you found a rightful shelter. Seven days with manโs best friend, living and traveling in the back of the impala with them.ย
A simple week, Dean wouldโve loved that.
Yes, he wouldโve loved it, if all your attention hadnโt stayed solely on the dog.ย
It was everyday that youโd get up early and walk the animal, Sam often joining in his jogs before he would take a different route. And, Dean was fine with you getting the dog some exercise, what he didnโt like was you leaving the warmth of the motel bed to do so. Leaving Dean yearning for the feel of your body in the early mornings.ย
And it wasnโt even just that. No, no, no. Youโd had given the dog your leftovers one afternoon. Right in front of Dean too. Knowing well enough that whatever you didnโt eat, youโd always hand over to Dean.ย
But, it shouldnโt bother him, no. Dean could go with out your morning embrace, your leftover Chinese that Dean tried his hardest not to tell you that he was waiting patiently for.ย
No, what really bothered him more than anything, was when you called that dog your โpretty boyโ.
Dean was your pretty boy. It was the nickname that youโd donned him with, he loved that special little name that youโd picked out for him.ย
And out of all the names thatโs what youโd called that slobbery animal, thatโs what you called him. That dog, whoโd slowly been taking you away from Dean ever since he was found out in the streets. Whoโd been stealing you away from him for the past few days right under his nose the whole time.ย
Dean couldnโt prove it, but he knew that the dog was doing it on purpose.ย
He knew that the dog would give him a satisfied smirk, every time heโd turn his back on you and the animal. He knew what he was doing and he was playing you like a damn fiddle.ย
You currently sat on your and Deans motel bed, an old hay brush passing through the dogs tangled fur as you gave him sweet praises. Dean sat behind you against the headboard, muttering under his breath all the things youโd say in a mocking tone.ย
Not that he was trying to mock you, but youโd fallen so easily in the dogs trap that you could no longer get out. It was kinda hard not to.ย
โGood boy.โ You whispered to the dog, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. โThe goodest boy.โ
Dean could see his tail wagging from his position, body moving with each sharp wag.ย
Suck up. Dean wanted to say to the dog, not that he wonโt when you leave the room. But, for now heโs happy with the one sided argument that heโs winning against an animal.ย
You then placed the hairbrush on the side of the bed, hands coming to pet the dogs now soft fur. Gentle praises leaving your mouth as you then began to scratch behind his ears.ย
Dean stared at the sight before him, wishing that heโd be the one that youโd run your fingers through his hair. Telling him how pretty and handsome he was. โYou never do that to me.โ Dean muttered softly.
โWhat?โ Thankfully, what he said never truly meeting your ears.ย
โI said heโs very obidient.โ Dean replied louder, watching as a small smile formed on your face as you agreed. Your attention returning back to the animal, completely missing the sour look he gave the dog.ย
God, he couldnโt wait til this dog was gone.ย
i need stealth black sanji to fuck me bro
They're just silly serial killer boys. I just got a new program and I love it a lot. I can make really awesome brushes. I had to draw each boy in a separate file and add them in afterwards.i have those files which I might share later.
roger's execution was like
"Writing's hard.""There only noodles, Micheal."HUGE FANDOM HOPPER!
170 posts