#clairvoyantghost

[violetzephyr]

[ᶜᵒⁿᵗᶦⁿᵘᵉᵈ]

ᴴᵃʸᵃᵗᵒ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᶦᵍʰ ᵃᵗ ᴹᵃᵗˢᵘᵇᵃ'ˢ ᵗʸᵖᶦᶜᵃˡ ⁿᵒⁿᶜʰᵃˡᵃⁿᶜᵉ. ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵘʳᵖʳᶦˢᶦⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᶦᵐ, ⁿᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ᶦᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ˡᶦⁿᵉ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʰᶦˢ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈ'ˢ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵃⁿᵗᶦᶜˢ; ᴴᵃʸᵃᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ ᵍʸᵐ ˡᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ʰᶦˢ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵃⁿ ᶦᵒᵗᵃ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢᵉʳᶦᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ. ᴰᵉˢᵖᶦᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ, ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵐᶦˡᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵠᵘᶦʳᵏˢ ʰᶦˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵘᵖ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵒ ˢˡᶦᵍʰᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴹᵃᵗˢᵘᵇᵃ ᵖˡᵃʸˢ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈˡʸ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʰᶦᵐ ⁽ʰᶦˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ᵗᵉˡˡᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ.⁾ "ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵃᵍᵉˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳʳᶦᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃˢᵗˡʸ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒʷᵉʳ ˡᵃᵗᵉˡʸ. ᵀʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᶦⁿ' ᵃᵍᵍʳᵉˢˢᶦᵛᵉ ᵃⁿ' ʷᵒʳʳʸᶦⁿᵍˡʸ ˢᵒ. ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ʰᵒᵖᶦⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᶠᶦᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵇᵉʰᶦⁿᵈ ᶦᵗ."

[violetzephyr]

        "Wᴇ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴅɪsᴄɪᴘʟɪɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟsᴇ!"                                       "Wᴇ ᴄᴀɴ sᴛɪʟʟ ғʟʏ!"

                      ᴴᵃʸᵃˢʰᶦ ᴹᵃᵗˢᵘᵇᵃ // "ᵀʰᵉ ᴹʸˢᵗᶦᶜ ˢᵉᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘᵗᵘʳᵉ"

                                         || ₕₒₘₑ || ᵣᵤₗₑₛ || ₐᵦₒᵤₜ || ₘᵤₙ ||

              ᴷᵃᶻᵘᵐᵃ ᴴᵃʸᵃᵗᵒ // "ᵀʰᵉ ᴱˡᵉᵍᵃⁿᵗ ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶠˡʸᶦⁿᵍ ᴾᵒᵏᵉᵐᵒⁿ"

                                         || ₕₒₘₑ || ᵣᵤₗₑₛ || ₐᵦₒᵤₜ || ₘᵤₙ ||

// ₚᵣₒₘₒ ₜₑₘₚₗₐₜₑ // ₚᵣₒₘₒ ₐᵣₜ //

[violetzephyr]

So I guess I'm here now

"ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃʷᶠᵘˡ ˡᵃᵗᵉ, ʸ'ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗˀ" ᴴᵃʸᵃᵗᵒ ʰᵘᶠᶠˢ ᵒᵘᵗ, ʰᶦˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᶦⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᶦᵐᵖᵃᵗᶦᵉⁿᶜᵉ ⁽ᵇᵘᵗ ᶦᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᶦᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰᶦˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳˢ ˡᵒᵒˢᵉⁿ ʷᶦᵗʰ ʰᶦˢ ᵘⁿˢᵃᶦᵈ ʳᵉˡᶦᵉᶠ, ᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᶦˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ˢᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰᶦˢ ᶠʳᶦᵉⁿᵈ.⁾ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ʸᵒᵘˀ"

[violetzephyr]

💚

[ ᴏʙʟɪɢᴀᴛᴏʀʏ ᴋɪss ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ! ] 💚 Dʀᴜɴᴋ Kɪss

Hayato feels as if he can’t breathe, his lungs squeezed dry by the surge of emotion that seemed to heft some sort of cement weight down into his gut. Matsuba’s lips felt warm against his, warm and soft and wet and--Hayato fingers curl, his short nails digging into the meat of his palm. He can taste the sake on Matsuba’s lips, on his tongue when it swipes across his mouth.

(This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.)

He knows his face is a flushed mess, but Hayato still finds his hands on Matsuba’s shoulders in order to push him back. He looks everywhere but at his friend.

“Matsuba you.” And Hayato hates how breathless he sounds, his voice small, “You’re drunk.”

[violetzephyr]

💋

[ Send 💋 if your muse wants a kiss from mine ]

Hayato doesn’t know why his heart his thundering in his chest, his heartbeat echoing in his ears with each thump-thump-thump that passes. His throat is tight, dry, and if Hayato wasn’t confident in the steadiness of his legs, he’s sure that his knees would have buckled under the weight of whatever this was. Slowly, he reaches out and Hayato hates just how shaky his fingers are, how much the mere thought of kissing Matsuba sends him into a tizzy. 

It’s stupid, Hayato decides. He’s acting absolutely ridiculous over the thought of kissing his (best?) friend.

It’s nothing but nerves, mere inexperience, he decides then and there as his fingers curl into the soft fabric of Matsuba’s scarf. It’s just a passing crush, Hayato concedes as he pulls the other down, brushing his lips against the ghost-trainer’s in a chaste kiss.

(He’s fucked.)