braydon711

[braydon711]

Was gonna be a Marxist but I want to exchange numbers

[braydon711]

Time to fujo out

[braydon711]

Saving this

waking up to you

au!rafe cameron x reader

— in which you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.

warnings: late update i fear, coy being silly w this chapter, lowkey reader x jj moment, sorry rafe xo

authors note: pls i needed some connection between y/n and jj for later that night (next part). stay tuned asf. if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

previous

you sit at the desk, staring at the closed journal, your heart racing as you bounce your foot up and down anxiously. every instinct tells you to dive deeper into the journal, to unravel the thoughts and experiences of this universe’s y/n. you need to know—need to understand what this life has been like for her, especially since the entries lead right up to the night before you woke up here.

you were right about your theory—this was another universe, and there was a you that lived here, one who had her own thoughts, struggles, and relationships.

you shake your head. you need to know, need to understand. sitting up straight, you take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you reach for the journal again.

you open the journal, your eyes scanning the pages quickly, desperate for answers. the entries blur together at first, but then words begin to form coherent thoughts. it doesn’t take long for the familiar names to jump out at you: jj, sarah, even ward. each mention drags you into a different part of her life, pulling you through the highs and lows of her experiences.

as you skim through the entries, you see that there’s a lot about jj—how their friendship has been rocky, how her attempts to change have been met with resistance from him.

you read about her feelings of guilt for not talking to sarah as often as she should have. you can sense the regret in her words. her struggles with ward stand out too. she recounts her frustration with the way he treated her from the moment they met, how it’s gone on for two years, no matter how hard she tried to win his approval.

you find yourself wishing that someone had given her the validation she so desperately craved.

but there’s an absence of rafe’s name. as you flip through the pages, searching for any mention of him, you realize that there is nothing. no references to fights, not even nostalgic memories or heartwarming moments.

gee, maybe he really was a great boyfriend to her, you think to yourself.

you flip to the entry dated september 10, a week before everything changed. your eyes move across the lines quickly, but as the words sink in, you slow down, reading more carefully.

the journal describes bad dreams—no, nightmares—that have been haunting this version of you every other night. they weren’t traumatizing, but they were vivid, too real. each dream left her questioning her reality, unsure if she was awake or still trapped in the depths of her subconscious.

the nightmares started a week before that entry, she wrote. more consistent and intense than anything she’d had since childhood. it was enough to make her consider going to a doctor, just to figure out what was going on. she admitted to being scared of falling asleep every night.

you raises your eyebrows as she reads the words, flipping through the pages absently. “sounds like my headaches lately,” you mutter under your breath and gnaw on your bottom lip.

as soon as you hear movement from behind, you freeze and glance over your shoulder. rafe is stirring, pulling himself up onto the bed as if he’s about to wake up. but he only shifts, getting comfortable before drifting back into his nap. you let out a quiet breath, turning back toward the desk.

sliding down in your chair, you tap your fingers against the edge of the journal, staring blankly ahead. none of this makes any sense. alternate realities aren’t real. there’s no way any of this could be real—this has to be a dream, right?

maybe you should go back to that. you’re still asleep, stuck in some strange loop of dreaming about journals and different versions of yourself. you shake your head, frustrated. even if that were the case, how do you wake up from something like this?

but what if you’re not dreaming? what if this is real?

your thoughts spiral, leaving you in a dizzy haze of confusion. you can’t take the risk of assuming it’s just a dream. no matter how much you want it to be, ignoring the possibility that this is your new reality could mean being stuck here forever. and you’re definitely not interested in staying in a world where some people hate you—or only sort of tolerate you.

your fingers clench around the edge of the journal, your mind whirling. you have to figure out how to get home, and fast. there’s no way you’re sticking around to deal with the mess this y/n left behind.

you’re sitting outside in the backyard, legs pulled up to your chest, flipping through the journal aimlessly, skipping around the entries instead of reading in any order. you find it easier that way. if something interesting catches your eye, you either backtrack or fast forward to see how it unfolds.

you scratch the back of your head as you turn the page, eyes scanning lines. but before you can dive further in, a voice pulls your attention away, and you quickly shut the journal, peering over your shoulder. it’s rafe. of course.

he's walking toward you, scratching behind his ear like he’s in a hurry, “hey, uh . . . my dad wants me to go fishing with him today, so . . .” he trails off as he reaches your chair, standing over you with an expectant look. “might go with him.”

you nod, pulling the journal closer to your chest. “okay.”

“you can just hang out here.” he leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips, then another to your cheek, lingering for just a moment before standing back up. but as he steps away, his eyes catch on the journal resting in your lap. he stops mid-step, pausing.

“you’ve been keeping up with your journaling, huh?” he says, his voice soft, almost like he’s proud. “it’s good you’re sticking with it. i know it helps.”

you give a small, almost forced smile, nodding again, though inside your thoughts are spinning. he doesn’t know, obviously. he assumes it’s your journal. but it’s y/n’s. the one detailing a process you’re not even sure how to wrap your head around yet. still, you nod, playing along.

“yeah, i guess.”

rafe gives you one last glance before heading off to leave, his footsteps fading into the house. just as he disappears, sarah slips outside, her eyes immediately landing on you. she crosses the yard with a purpose, the way only sarah can.

“hey,” she says, casually taking the chair next to you, but there’s something in her tone. she’s here for something more. she stretches out her legs and leans back, glancing over at you with a casual smile. “haven’t seen you out here in a while,” she comments, her voice light as if she’s making small talk, but there’s a hint of curiosity.

you shrug, “yeah, just needed a change of scenery, i guess.”

sarah grins and shakes her head, looking out at the marsh, the sun casting a warm glow over the water. the quiet between you two is peaceful, but then sarah’s gaze shifts back to you, her voice a little more serious.

“john b might come pick me up later,” she says, almost too casually. “since my dad and my brother are gonna be gone. guaranteed rose is going out too, but she’s on wheezie patrol.”

you raise an eyebrow, sensing the shift in her tone. there’s something more behind her words. sarah hesitates for a second before continuing, eyeing you carefully as if weighing your reaction.

“means him and the others will be there. kiara, pope, jj.”

you swallow hard. you know she didn’t mean to but you know why her tone emphasizes jj’s name. it’s him again. always him. you purse your lips, shaking your head slightly, brushing off the sinking feeling.

“okay. cool. i’ll be busy today anyway.”

you stand up from the chair, clutching your phone and the journal together in one hand, suddenly feeling the need to escape the conversation. sarah perks up, a little confused at your sudden movement, her eyes trailing after you.

“where are you going?” she asks, genuinely curious but also concerned. you pause for a second, considering her offer, but it doesn’t take long before you shake your head again. “go out with us,” sarah continues, her voice softer now, almost pleading.

your eyebrows twitch up in mild amusement, but the humor doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “last time i was with them, it wasn’t necessarily fun.” sarah arches an eyebrow, not entirely understanding, so you remind her, “jj punched rafe last night. remember?”

her expression changes, the pieces clicking into place. she nods slowly, understanding dawning on her. “right,” she murmurs, glancing down at her hands, not sure what to say.

you let out a small sigh, looking away toward the marsh again. but sarah’s watching you, waiting, and there’s something about the way she’s hopeful, like she genuinely wants you to be a part of things. it’s hard to say no to that. so finally, you just sigh and give in.

“okay,” you say, your voice soft but clear.

sarah’s face lights up instantly, her whole body seeming to perk up as she sits up straight. “yeah?” she asks, excitement creeping into her tone, like she didn’t expect you to agree.

you chuckle lightly, nodding. “yeah, sure.” you don’t know what’s going to come out of it—maybe it’ll be awkward, maybe it’ll be fine. but at least you’ll be with everyone. the pogues and sarah. that’s worth something, right?

the situation with jj is tiring if you had to be honest, and you can’t help but feel worn down by it, even though, technically, it wasn’t you who he said that to.

plus, he hugged you yesterday. that doesn’t necessarily scream ‘i wasted years of friendship on you’ but it still stings, knowing what he said to y/n, because according to her journal, by the time they argued, she had already changed.

so maybe the problem has fixed itself by now. maybe you don’t have to worry about it as much as you think. but still, you can’t shake the unease entirely.

sarah stands up all the way, grinning wide as she grabs your hand, her energy contagious. she pulls you gently toward the house. “come on,” she urges. “it’ll be fun.”

john b picks you and sarah up not long after. the twinkie pulls up, surfboards strapped to the top with bungee cords, and the sound of it makes your stomach flip.

great. surfing. you don’t know how to surf, at least not like these guys. you’ve seen enough of the show to know jj’s supposedly the best surfer john b knows.

yeah, you’re definitely going to embarrass yourself today.

the car ride itself isn’t bad, though. it’s comfortable, surprisingly safe. jj’s in the front seat, leaving you, sarah, kie, and pope to lounge in the back.

you lean your head back against the seat, watching the ocean come into view, the rolling waves already making you nervous.

“you surf, right?” kie asks from beside you, breaking the quiet hum of the ride. her tone is casual, like she’s assuming the answer’s yes.

the question makes you freeze for a second. the y/n in this universe has clearly never surfed with them before if she has to ask, but you wonder if another difference between you two is that she actually can surf.

you hesitate for a second, biting your lip. “uh, not really,” you say, scratching the back of your head awkwardly. “i mean, i’ve tried a couple times, but i’m not exactly pogue-level or anything.”

sarah, ever the optimist, shakes her head and interjects, “no, no! the times we went surfing together, you picked up the tips way faster than i did when john b taught me. you’re practically a natural, y/n!”

wrong girl, sarah.

she’s laughing, but you aren’t. “really?” kie’s eyes widen.

you shake your head quickly, trying to downplay it. “no, no,” you insist, waving it off a forced smile stretching across your face. this is getting out of hand. “i mean, that was, like, a different time, right? it’s just . . . i’m not really… that’s okay.”

when you finally reach the beach, the twinkie pulls into a parking spot, and the group immediately starts piling out, grabbing their boards and shedding layers. you sit there for a moment, staring out at the waves, hesitant to even move. you know you have to get out, but something about the whole situation makes you want to stay glued to your seat. okay, maybe you’re exaggerating, but still.

“come on, y/n!” jj calls from outside, his voice light but with an edge of impatience. “the waves aren’t gonna wait.”

you sigh, pulling your shirt over your head and stepping out of your shorts. the sun hits your skin instantly, and you raise your arm to shield your eyes as you look out toward the water.

the waves look . . . big. daunting, even. and these guys are already talking about them like they’re nothing.

“looks clean out there,” john b comments as he unloads the boards, nodding toward the water. “should be a good day for it.”

jj’s already running his hand over his board, grinning. “perfect for catching some barrels.”

“don’t get cocky,” pope says, shaking his head. “last time you said that, you wiped out like, five times in a row.”

jj nudges him playfully, laughing. “yeah, but i still got the best ride of the day, didn’t i?”

kie pulls her hair up into a messy bun, glancing over at you. “you’ll be fine. just watch jj make a fool of himself, and you’ll feel better,” she says with a wink.

you force a laugh, but your stomach’s still doing somersaults. you’re already dreading getting on that board. watching them prep their boards and talk about the waves only makes it worse. they’re so casual, so at ease. this is their thing, and you feel completely out of place.

sarah stands up, tucking her board under her arm. “ready?”

you nod, but it’s half-hearted. you’re not ready at all. but there’s no backing out now.

eventually you stand at the edge of the water, your feet sinking slightly into the warm, golden sand as you gaze out at the ocean. you can feel the energy of your friends buzzing around you—laughter and playful shouts—but in this moment, you’re lost in the sea’s pull.

“hey.” you turn your head to see jj standing next to you, his brow slightly furrowed as he studies your expression. he’s been eyeing you. there’s a playful grin on his lips, but concern glimmers in his eyes. “you okay? you look like you're about to jump into a shark tank.”

you practically are, jj.

“just looking,” you reply, your gaze drifting back to the waves. they seem so powerful and free. “forgot how to . . . surf.”

“i’ll help you,” jj offers, stepping closer. there’s an undeniable energy about him, a confidence that makes you consider it.

“okay,” you say, the word slipping from your lips before you can second-guess yourself. you try to sound casual, but inside, your heart races at the thought of letting him even guide you into the waves.

“alright, awesome,” he replies, his grin widening, and it’s infectious. he motions for you to follow him as he picks up your surfboard, moving toward the stretch where the waves break.

he sets the board down in the sand and gestures for you to lie on it. “just like this,” he instructs, positioning himself beside you. you lay down on the board, feeling the coolness of the surfboard against your warm skin, and the warmth of the sand beneath you grounds you somewhat. but there’s still a knot of anxiety in your stomach as you try to focus on his instructions.

he kneels beside you, studying your position with a serious expression that somehow makes you even more self-conscious. he doesn’t waste time, moving into instructor mode as he starts explaining what you should do.

“you’ve gotta keep your body straight,” he says, his voice steady but firm, and before you know it, you feel his hand on your back, pressing lightly between your shoulder blades. it’s not heavy, just enough to guide you, making sure you’re not bending in a way that could throw off your balance later.

but it catches you off guard—his hand feels warm against your skin, and you have to fight the instinct to tense up. your heart skips for a second, but you quickly refocus, trying to listen to what he’s saying.

“don’t let your hips lift too much, or you’ll tip over once you hit the water,” he continues, his tone completely casual as if this kind of touch is second nature to him. you, on the other hand, feel like you’re overanalyzing every little contact, your mind racing faster than the waves in front of you.

as he shifts slightly, demonstrating how you should arch your body when paddling, his hand slips down from your back, grazing the back of your thighs without him seeming to notice.

jj’s voice fills the space around you, still explaining, “when you feel the wave coming, you’ll want to paddle fast. push with your arms, then pop up. you’ve gotta move quick or the wave’ll pass you by.”

you nod, your throat a little dry. “okay,” you manage to say, though it comes out quieter than you intended.

“you good?” jj asks, glancing at you. his hand rests lightly on your shoulder now, and his gaze is a little softer, less intense. there’s a hint of concern in his eyes, like he can sense that you’re not fully present in the moment.

“yeah,” you reply quickly, trying to sound normal, but your voice is a little shaky. “just . . . ready to try.”

he gives you a small smile, his hand still lingering for a moment before he pulls it back. “cool. let’s see what you’ve got then. we can do it together.”

he pushes himself up from the sand, extending a hand to help you up. you take it, and as you stand, the tension in your chest loosens slightly. the group gathers around, excitement buzzing in the air as they watch you.

“trust me, you’ll be fine. sarah said you’ve done it before anyway,” jj reassures, his gaze never leaving yours. you can see sincerity in his eyes, a promise that he’ll be there to catch you if you fall. but you can’t help but feel like if you’re out there then the waves are literally going to swallow you and you’ll die.

you take another deep breath, your heart pounding, and then, together, you make your way toward the waves.

the moment you step into the cool water, a shiver runs down your spine, and you feel the pull of the ocean around your ankles. jj is beside you, and you feel a surge of determination. maybe you can do this.

“just keep your eyes on me,” he says as the waves crash around you, the water bubbling up to your knees. “we’ll take it slow.”

you nod, and he leads you further into the water. he demonstrates how to paddle, and you mimic him, your heart racing with each stroke.

“good, just like that,” he encourages, watching you closely. with each wave that rolls in, you can feel your confidence growing, even though you still feel the uncertainty.

“now, when i say ‘go,’ you’re going to paddle as hard as you can,” jj continues, and you nod, bracing yourself. “you ready?”

“ready,” you lie.

“okay, here comes a wave!” he shouts, and as it approaches, you feel a rush of adrenaline. “paddle!”

you push with all your strength, the water splashing around you as you move, and for a moment, everything else fades away. it’s just you, the board, and the wave.

“now, pop up!” jj calls, and you try to follow his lead, your body moving instinctively. but you stand.

you’re doing it. actually doing it. but then, just as you start to relax into it, the panic creeps back. your balance falters and you crash into the water. the wave tumbles you, pulling you under for a moment, the salty taste of the ocean filling your mouth. you kick hard, pushing off the sandy floor beneath you, and finally, you break the surface, gasping for air.

but you laugh, exhilarated despite the fall. you look around, spotting your board drifting away, being carried by the waves. you quickly start swimming back to shore, your arms working hard as you cut through the water, pushing against the swell.

as you reach the shallow water, your feet touch the sandy bottom. you stand up, shaking the water from your hair and glancing back toward the ocean.

you watch jj ride the wave effortlessly, and it’s like watching someone who was made for the ocean. his movements are fluid, every shift in his weight perfectly timed with the water beneath him.

he balances with ease, his body leaning into the curve of the wave as it carries him toward the shore. his arms are out, steady, and when the wave curls behind him, it frames him like a picture out of some fucking surf documentary.

he makes it look so easy, so natural, that for a second, you’re in awe. you almost wish you’d gotten into surfing sooner. watching jj now, it’s clear why people love this so much. it’s more fun than you expected—and seeing everyone else surf? they look cool as hell.

as jj finally reaches the shore, he makes his way over to you.

“how’d it go?” he asks, clearly not having watched your ride as he was too busy on his own. “d’you kill it or what?”

you laugh, the sound of it light, even if you’re still a little breathless. “uh, maybe not kill it, but i didn’t die either.”

he chuckles, “not dying is good. what do you think? any pointers you need?” you shrug, still processing everything. “just gotta trust the board, i’m tellin’ you. let it carry you.”

he’s calm about it, like it’s no big deal, and you appreciate that. you nod along as he gives you a couple more tips, telling you to keep your knees bent more, keep your eyes up instead of looking at your feet, and just trust your balance. it’s all simple, but it still feels like a lot to take in.

after a few minutes, jj suggests you try another wave, this time pointing out one that’s a little smaller, more manageable. “this one’s good practice,” he says, positioning his board and giving you a nod. “you ready?”

you nod, even though you’re still a bit nervous, but the rush from before is still there, pushing you forward. you paddle out again, following jj’s lead, your arms burning a little more this time. but you push through it, determined.

the wave comes up behind you, and you hear jj’s voice again, steady like it was the first time. “now, paddle! go for it!”

you dig your arms into the water, feeling the swell lift you. the wave catches your board, and this time, when you push up to stand, you do it a little quicker, a little smoother. you feel more stable, more in control, and for a few seconds, you’re actually riding it.

your arms and legs are steady as you balance like you’ve done this a hundred times, like the ocean beneath you isn’t a threat but something familiar. you’re riding the wave, and you’re not just staying afloat—you’re controlling it.

on the sand, john b and pope have just finished their own surf. they catch sight of you effortlessly shredding the waves. the two pause, watching in silence.

“so that’s what sarah was talking about,” pope mutters, a hint of disbelief in his voice. john b nods, his gaze locked on you, clearly impressed.

their eyebrows raise slightly, exchanging glances filled with surprise. a shared smile breaks across their faces, the kind that says they weren’t expecting this. as you ride the wave, they exchange a knowing look and burst into laughter, then take off toward the water, joining you in the surf. they paddle out, eager to catch the next one.

there’s no hesitation, no panic like the first time. it’s like everything you’ve ever seen in the movies or on tv—except now, you're doing it, your feet planted firmly on the board, your body leaning just right to catch the flow of the water beneath you. and for a brief, startling second, you realize you know exactly what to do. your body is leading, following the natural rhythm of the wave, and you don’t even need to think about it.

the thrill hits you all at once, and eventually you dive off the board, the water swallowing you up before you resurface, laughing as the waves crash around you.

you don’t process it fully until you’re off the wave, paddling back toward the others.

you wipe the saltwater from your face and slicking your hair back once you’re back on the sand. your muscles are tired, but you feel exhilarated, like you’ve conquered something.

“that was so good, y/n!” you can hear sarah call from the sand.

“hell yeah!” jj yells, running over with his board tucked under his arm, his hand shooting up in the air. instinctively, you raise your own. jj slaps his palm into yours, their hands squeezing together in that familiar, casual way that silently says ‘good shit.’

he grins, looking back at kie and sarah who were on the sand with you, jj clearly proud. “did you see that?” he says to them, beaming, then turns back to you, “next time, just keep ridin’ til you reach the sand, baby.”

you don’t even catch the flirt at first, it all just feels surreal. as you’re still trying to process everything, kie bends down near the towels, careful not to get any water on them as she wipes her hand dry. she spots your phone lighting up and picks it up, glancing at the screen before calling, “y/n.”

you barely catch it, juggling the phone for a second with your board still tucked under your arm. once it’s in your grip, you wipe your face with the back of your hand, looking down at the screen.

the name flashing on it makes your stomach flip. your heart skips a beat as you stare at his name.

why is rafe calling?

@v2los @cosmixstar @meeuhsworld @lovdrew @lilithblackkk @rovckwells @cherrylooney @iissza @namelesslosers @cocolovey @rafeyswrd @odairtrqsh @gretag13 @vivian-555 @lunaleah @smol-coffee-addict @twinge-vix @behindviolettwrites @avngrssckr @stonerroadbull @cali-888 @coquettajob @simpingcorner @nymphetkoo @pinkpantheris @ilyrafe @romaescapes @cold-soup1223 @inaluvrsworld @rafesweetie @faephoria @solo-pitstop-vibes @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @drewsephrry @sgecorrow @rafesgiirl @ravisinghs-wife @booksntings @tinyfairies @maybankslover @honeyluvsatj @darleneslane @alysaaaa444 @w4nnabeurs @watersquirtpewpewboomm @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @benbarneslut @illicit-affcirs @thewrittenpodcast @helo1281917 ++

[braydon711]

oisuga fic rec list

oisuga has been my otp for a long time now, and i’ve read some amazing fics and made some great friends while doing my time in hell. i’d like to share some of the fics i feel like are both fantastic and easy for people to read, especially if they don’t often read fic or have just gotten into oisuga.

i don’t like angst and i don’t read porn, so for the most part this list is full of fluffy, sweet fics. i’m also not claiming this is an exhaustive list of all good, fluffy oisuga fics out there. these are just the ones i especially liked and want others to read.

enjoy!

Stargazing, by grandAce He didn’t know much about stargazing, but apparently he didn’t need to.

i can’t very well start a rec list without including this fic, which i think is the origin of oisuga + space/star themes. it’s about oikawa and suga going on a date, while suga keeps oikawa from getting too worked up over making it perfect.

Stuck in the Middle With You, by overlymetaromantic It’s not the kind of blossoming relationship either of them would expect, but maybe, just maybe, it could lead to something good.

this fic is seven chapters, one for each prompt of the first oisuga week. it’s all about oikawa and suga’s awkward courtship while they try to figure each other out. somewhat canon compliant, takes place during high school.

A Boy Like Me’s Just Irresistible, by overlymetaromantic (A continuation of this, in which college is a little more fun when there’s someone by your side.) 

a sequel to stuck in the middle with you, but taking place during university. it’s funny and adorable, and i love how the author keeps their dynamic fun even after they’re in a relationship. 

Hold The Sugar, by transtobio Oikawa Tooru had walked into Karasuno cafe with the intention of finding Kageyama and teasing him. He didn’t expect to meet the most attractive barista of all time, but what can you do?

the coffee shop au we all want and deserve. featuring oikawa not being as smooth as he’d like, and suga being charmed despite himself.

Due Season, by aroceu and memorde The documentation of a relationship that’s more than a brief encounter, longer than a week in summer, and closer than any distance that words can’t cross.

these two are my favorite oisuga authors, so it makes sense that when they team up for a fic, it’s amazing! due season is not yet complete, but it’s well worth the read anyway. in an au where aobajousai and karasuno have a training camp together, things progress a little differently.

Coincidence, by memorde coincidence • n. 1 a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent causal connection. 2 correspondence in nature or in time of occurrence.

i’m going to be perfectly honest here: coincidence is the entire reason i wanted to make a rec list for oisuga. if you’re going to read just one fic, make it this one. it’s about oikawa and suga meeting through a series of coincidences (or not-so-coincidences) and how their relationship progresses from there.

How (Not) To Share A Bathroom, by memorde A love story in two parts, told in passive-aggressive post-it notes and cluttered bathroom shelves, late nights and early mornings, locked doors and near misses.

the transition to university is stressful, especially when you share a bathroom with someone you’ve only communicated with in sticky notes. it’s even worse when you develop an embarrassing crush on him.

To and From, by memorde Thanks for leaving me your number last night~! I’m flattered by your interest, but I’m not looking to date anyone right now. Have a good day~! n_n

someone should stop isy from writing perfect oisuga fics so often, tbh. suga gets a wrong number text from someone one morning. even though the text was a rejection, the wrong number weirdo keeps texting suga.

hung the stars, by aroceu Tooru loves aliens. Koushi happens to be one.

i love, love love creative and silly aus, so of course this one tops the list! oikawa meets an alien one night when he’s young, and they visit a few more times over the years.

first bet, second guess,  by aroceu This is all a very bad idea, in Suga’s opinion. He is not looking forward to waking up accidentally spooned against the guy he likes.

bed sharing… yes. featuring another one of my favorites: oikawa being so taken by suga he sucks at doing what he wants to do.

Marvel Scale, by Volleybird Oikawa believes in many things. And sometimes, they’re actually real.

the mermaid au i’ve been carving for too long! features oikawa sharing his human food with mersuga, and their mutual curiosity about each other.

Phone Tag, by Icie Oikawa goes on a quest for Sugawara’s number - he didn’t actually expect to get it.

all of my favorite things in one fic: cute texting scenes, suga throwing oikawa off guard by flirting back with him, and exploration of how similar they really are.

Over the Moon, by togekissies If there is one thing Tooru is absolutely positive of, it’s that he needs to break off this thing he has with Suga.

i feel silly putting my own fic on this list, but, well… i feel like these are good, easy fics to read. in this au oikawa and suga share an apartment while they attend university, and oikawa somehow accidentally started dating suga, then convinced himself he wants to break up with him.

Mess, by togekissies Fact one: Oikawa and Suga are not dating. Fact two: Oikawa seems to have forgotten fact one.

mess takes place in the same au as over the moon, though it’s chronologically first. i wrote and published it months later and both can be read in any order. mess shows how their relationship started.

BONUS! (it’s not primary oisuga, but i love this fic so much i’m gonna rec it anyway)

do me (a favor), by meguri_aite “I would be forever in your debt if you could date Daichi for a bit,” continued Sugawara in a conversational tone that was probably appropriate for a wide range of subjects, but, Kuroo thought dimly, not this particular one.

this is a kurodai fic, but it’s kicked into action because suga wants to date oikawa–and is afraid he may think suga’s already taken by daichi. so his brilliant plan is to ask daichi to pretend date kuroo for a while, so oikawa knows he’s available. too bad (or good thing?) kuroo’s nursing a crush on daichi!

[braydon711]

lazarus

March 2007

---

            In the predawn light, Edgar Allan wasn’t much to look at.

            On paper it wasn’t far behind Palmetto State in terms of enrollment and campus size, but whereas Palmetto State was built on sprawling land with low buildings and open lawns, Edgar Allan had taken a compact, vertical approach. That wasn’t to say the architecture wasn’t to be admired; even Renee, who had no eye for such things, could see the meticulous and ostentatious care put into the school’s appearance. A pretentious coffin, Jean had called it a month ago, when Renee asked after it. Fanciful and grim, she’d thought then, but now she understood.

            Her phone hummed in her hand, but Renee finished her slow sweep of the area before looking down at it. At this hour it would only be one person: she’d kept Stephanie up all night, needing another pair of eyes to guide her and lay the groundwork for this reckless stunt. Their call lasted most of the five-hour drive here from the cabin. Later Renee would apologize for the hours of lost sleep, and Stephanie would brush away her guilt and concern with the same easy care she always did. Now was too soon for any such kindness.

            “It’s sent,” Stephanie’s text said.

            Renee held down until a heart appeared and slid off the car to her feet. Gravel crunched beneath her shoes as she went for the front door. There was an actual knocker on the door, but it wasn’t likely to get her far. Renee put her thumb to the doorbell instead. The carved wood muffled most of the noise, but she heard the distant tones echoing down the hall. Renee let them fade, then pressed again. Two seconds later, again. And again. And again.

            It took a few minutes, but at long last there was a sharp clack of the locks snapping out of place. Louis Andritch yanked open the door in a half-undone bathrobe, looking more like a harried professor than a campus president.

            “Yes?” he demanded. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

            “Jean Moreau is dying,” Renee said.

            Andritch stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language, mouth still half-open on an abandoned tirade. She kept her stance neutral and her hands loosely folded in front of her as she waited for him to finally clue in on what she’d said.

            “Excuse me?” he finally managed. “What did you say to me?”

            “Jean Moreau is dying,” Renee said again, with an unhurried calm that ate away at her heart. Lashing out at Andritch prematurely would tilt this entire fiasco against her, she knew, but without Stephanie’s steady voice in her ear she had nothing to keep her fear at bay. Everything hinged on getting to Jean. If she could just do that, nothing and no one could stop her. This was the only part that Renee couldn’t control.

            Renee held Andritch’s gaze as she said, “Exy team, your perfect Court backliner. He is dead or dying as we speak, and I need you to take me to him.”

            “Listen,” Andritch said, putting a hand out like he could ward off anything else Renee had to say. “I thank you for your concern, Miss…?” She held out her student ID and driver’s license, but he only gave them a quick glance. “If there was a problem with one of my teams, my staff would have already informed me. I assure you I will look into it, but—”

            Renee saw the door start to close and moved into the doorway to catch it. “Mr. Andritch,” she said, in as pleasant a tone as she could manage, “I drove through the night for the slim chance of saving his life. I would prefer you escort me to Castle Evermore now, but if you would rather wait until your school makes the morning news that is your choice.” He frowned at her, not following, but Renee didn’t wait to be asked. “An article is queued to send to a half-dozen sites, and the author is prepared to give Kathy Ferdinand the scoop for her morning show.”

            “Where are you even getting this information?” Andritch demanded, and Renee tapped through her phone with her free hand to send a short X out. “These are some serious accusations you are leveling at me, young lady, and I do not appreciate being strongarmed.”

            “I would rather not do this,” Renee said. “We both know how much money is riding on championships this year regardless of the outcome. Our schools have too much to gain by seeing this through to the end. But I will not sacrifice Jean. Help me save him, and we can both forget this conversation ever happened. Please.”

            Andritch’s phone started ringing before she was finished. He ignored her in favor of answering it with a harried, “Yes?” He tried again to close the door, but Renee braced it with a hand and foot. He fixed her a warning look she wasn’t cowed by. “Yes, hello? Can you give me just a—”

            Andritch went still and calm as he listened, and Renee stared him down as Stephanie went up one side of him and down the other. She counted seconds between his “This is highly irregular” and “What proof do I have that this is not some cockamamie prank” protests, and they added up to so many minutes of wasted time Renee was tempted to leave him here.

            The first plan had been to bypass Andritch entirely and go straight to Evermore. Stephanie had talked her down from that, careful not to ask how Renee would circumvent the security system there. They needed Andritch on their side. They needed a credible witness. Without him they had nothing. Even if she could get to Jean on her own—they cannot stop me, Mom—how would she keep him? Renee knew Stephanie was right, just as she knew the nearest hardware store wouldn’t open for another hour. She was not above breaking into it, but the consequences would hurt them all in the long run.

            At last Andritch hung up. There was a sour look on his face that didn’t match the fear in his eyes, and Renee saw the tension in his imperious gesture to enter his front hall. The what if had taken hold; whether Andritch was more worried about his student or his school’s reputation she did not know or care so long as she got the desired results. Renee stepped in with a polite “Thank you” and stood off to one side so he could close and lock the door again.

            Andritch ignored her in favor of making another call. “Coach Moriyama, this is Louis. I need to have a meeting with one of your Ravens this morning, Jean Moreau.” He listened for a moment, and his eyebrows went up in surprise. “New York? Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Of course, family must come first. You have my condolences for your loss. Yes, of course. Yes, I can reschedule, it’s not that pressing. We can discuss it when you are back in town.”

            Force, then, Renee thought wearily, but then Andritch hung up and pointed at her. “Do not leave this spot. I am going to get dressed and call security.”

            And check his email, most likely, because Stephanie would have sent him a preview of her page-long exposé. Abby had reluctantly loaned them photographs from Kevin’s first night with the Foxes, leery of betraying Kevin’s trust by releasing them but trusting Renee and Stephanie to win Andritch over before they were forced to go public.

            Andritch’s phone rang again before he was halfway up the stairwell. “Hello? Coach Wymack, you said?”

            The rest of the conversation was muffled by distance. Renee hummed quietly to herself so she wouldn’t ask him to perhaps be a bit more urgent about the situation, and then her phone buzzed against her fingers. She opened it to a query from Stephanie and tapped out a quick update. She didn’t mean to click over to Jean’s message next, but a second later it was staring up at her.

            Kengo is dead, first. And then: Thank you.

            Two words that meant nothing, that meant everything, when just a few days prior Neil had offered Andrew a threadbare smile and Thank you, you were amazing. before getting ripped out of their lives with violent force. Thank you, goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

            Renee closed her phone and squeezed it until her knuckles ached. She looked toward the stairs again. She wasn’t sure if a “Hurry” or “I will meet you at the stadium” would make it out of her first, but then Andritch came down the stairs so fast it was a wonder he didn’t tilt forward and fall flat on his face. Renee made a note to gift Abby a spa day as soon as this was over.

            “You will follow my car,” Andritch said, snatching his keys off their hook with such force he nearly pulled the rack off the wall as well. He got the door and shooed her out, and Renee went for Andrew’s car with long strides. Andritch needed another moment to field another call, but he pulled his car door closed so hard Renee heard it over the Maserati’s engine. Finally, finally Andritch got on the road, and Renee pulled out behind him.

            Because Castle Evermore doubled as the home court for the national team, it was set a short drive from the rest of campus. Renee had never seen it before, but it was hard to miss the imposing building with its spired corners. There was no color on it; from the foundation to the towers it was painted a forbidding solid black.

            Pretentious coffin, she silently agreed, and then, But not yours.

            The entire thing was surrounded by a tall fence lined with barbed wire. Andritch passed a half-dozen gates before slowing to a stop at one, and he leaned out his window to tap away at a keypad. The gate remained closed, and Andritch tried again. After a few attempts he got out of his car, like somehow the angle of his arm was to blame for this. Renee assumed he had few reasons to come out this way, but that he hadn’t secured the codes on the drive over was frustrating.

            Movement in her rearview mirror had her glancing back as an unfamiliar car pulled up behind her. The driver’s door opened, and she saw enough lettering to guess it was campus security. Perhaps Andritch’s incompetence was just show, then, a means of stalling her until he could eject her from campus. She relaxed her grip on the steering wheel and waited for the guard to try her door, but he went past her without slowing. Andritch got out of his way to let him have a go at it, but he had no more luck than Andritch had. After two attempts, the guard had no choice but to phone his superiors.

            Renee glanced past them at the fence. She gauged the height and tugged idly at her jacket, wondering if it was thick enough to protect her from the barbed wire along the top. Likely not, but before she could commit to trying it out the gate finally rattled open. The guard went jogging past again so he could get back in his car, and the three drove into the Ravens’ guarded lot at last.

            The spots closest to the stadium were all taken by a line of identical black cars, so they double-parked behind them. The security guard sent a curious look at Renee as she joined him and Andritch at the door, but he was too busy trying to get them into the Nest to ask questions. Unsurprisingly he needed to call in for this access code as well, and he held the door open for both of them when he managed to get it unlocked.

            Renee expected to find a hallway; what she saw was a dark stairwell leading down. Red lighting on the ceiling did nothing to chase away the shadows. Renee was tempted to ask Andritch if he had honestly signed off on this thinking it was a good idea, but he looked just young enough she assumed he’d inherited this madness. Andritch led them down without comment or hesitation, so Renee trailed after him. One more door awaited them at the bottom, but the guard hadn’t bothered to hang up his call and he called out a code to Andritch from the rear.

            If Renee had expected the Nest to be an improvement, she was immediately and sorely disappointed. The rooms they passed through in search of a stray Raven were spacious, but the ceilings were too low and the entire thing was done in Raven black and red. It was a minor blessing that these ceiling lights were normal, but whoever installed the bulbs had chosen a weaker wattage that let shadows collect in all the corners.

            Renee keenly understood why the Ravens spent so much time on the court, if this was their only other option. She had been here for only twenty seconds, and she was ready to never come here again. Jean had told her the Ravens only left the Nest for away games and classes, and she wasn’t sure if that made this better or worse: she couldn’t imagine coming back to this pit willingly, but the thought of being trapped here almost every hour of the day turned her heart cold.

            Raucous laughter led them to a kitchen at last, and the conversation died when Andritch stepped inside. Renee looked past him to the four Ravens gathered around a square table. She had one moment to note their identical black clothes and another to take in their stunned expressions before one got up from the table with lethal intent.

            “Who the fuck—”

            “Your campus president,” Andritch cut him off. “I am here to see Moreau. Where is he?”

            The four exchanged baffled looks before volunteering, “He’s in Red Hall.”

            “Show me,” Andritch said.

            No one seemed in a hurry to obey, but after a pointed, “You’re already up,” from one of the Ravens at the table, the first man scowled and crossed the room. He put a finger in Renee’s face as soon as he reached them.

            “You’re a Fox,” he said. “You don’t belong here.”

            She was idly impressed he recognized her so easily, but considering how sour things were between the teams now perhaps it was to be expected. “Neither do any of you.”

            “Right now,” Andritch said before the Raven could respond.

            He settled for giving her an ugly look and pushing her roughly out of his way. Andritch snapped at him for his aggression as he followed, but Renee let it go in one ear and out the other. Signage on the wall pointed out the directions to Red and Black Halls, and they went down the one that would lead them to Jean. Despite the name, there was no more abundance of color here than there had been anywhere else. Most of the doors they passed were open, but Renee only spared a couple glances at the dark bedrooms.

            Finally their unwilling guide stopped in a doorway and hit the side of his fist against the frame. “Andritch is your problem now,” he said to whoever was inside, and he flicked a last annoyed look at the president in question. “Zane is Jean’s roommate. He’ll find him for you. I’ve only got ten minutes left of lunch before I’m due on the court, so I’m leaving.”

            “Your name first,” Andritch said.

            “Williams,” the man said. “Brayden. Striker, number nineteen. Done here?”

            “For the moment,” Andritch said, with a tone that said this attitude was going to dearly cost Brayden when Andritch could spare enough time for him. Renee was expecting his shove as he went back down the hall the way they’d come, and she kept her feet planted so he couldn’t knock her over. She didn’t spare him another thought but followed Andritch to the doorway.

            Identical beds were set against opposite walls, with two nightstands and tiny desks between them. Only one man was inside, and he wasn’t Jean. Renee glanced toward the empty half of the room and was surprised to see Jean had decorations up. Postcards were pinned to the walls, and the top of his nightstand was littered with either stickers or magnets. The urge to study his precious possessions was as fleeting as it was inappropriate, and Renee forcibly returned her attention to the greater problem: Jean wasn’t there.

            “—he is?” Andritch was asking.

            Zane didn’t answer immediately, but the look that crossed his face told Renee everything she needed to know. The Ravens they’d met in the kitchen seemed more annoyed and bewildered by this intrusion than anything; Zane’s hesitation now was a deeper understanding. He knew exactly why they’d come. Renee assumed he had a better vantage point for Jean’s ongoing trauma as his roommate.

            “He’ll be with Riko,” Zane said at last. “They’re partners.”

            “I don’t care whose partner he is,” Andritch said. “Someone is going to find him for me.”

            Zane got up from his desk but sent a long look at Renee. “She shouldn’t be here.”

            Andritch snapped his fingers to get Zane’s attention. “That is not your call. Move it.”

            Zane led them to Black Hall. Another dormitory, Renee realized, with only one door closed at the far end. Zane knocked, listened, and knocked again. He checked his watch, tipped his head back to think, and said, “First shift, but what day is it? They might be finishing up on the court right now. Come on.”

            As soon as he stepped past her, Renee went to the door. The knob turned easily under her hand. For one moment she was surprised at Riko’s boldness, that he genuinely trusted people to stay out of his space out of some semblance of respect. Then she had the door open, and the sight waiting for her erased every thought from her mind.

            Zane caught her arm to haul her back. Renee didn’t even feel his skin under her knuckles when she put everything behind her fist. Zane wasn’t expecting it and wasn’t at all braced for it, and he nearly took Andritch down with him as he was thrown back.

            The guard moved to intervene, but Renee was in the room and out of reach before he could get his hands on her. She let their outraged demands wash over her and was only distantly aware of how abruptly the shouting stopped when they followed her into Riko’s room. The only thing that mattered was the body on Riko’s floor.

            Not a body, Renee thought fiercely, and willed it to be true, but how could it be true when Jean looked like this? That Riko had just left him here like this was almost as horrifying as the state he was in, and she was trembling as she knelt on the ground by his head. She took five seconds to calm herself to stillness before reaching for him, and she pressed her fingers to his bruised throat in search of a pulse. The relief it sent through her was almost sharp enough to bite away her grief, and Renee sent up a quick and desperate prayer of thanks.

            “Jean,” she said softly, then louder: “Jean. Can you hear me?”

            “Good god above,” the security guard finally said. “Is he—”

            “Alive,” Renee said, and was just mad enough to add, “For now.” She looked toward the men standing across from her: the horrified guard who hadn’t signed up for this before he had his morning coffee, the Raven who looked uncomfortable but not surprised or upset, and Andritch, whose blank-faced horror could have been for his mangled student but was just as likely for his crashing career.

            “What happened here?” Andritch demanded.

            Zane lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Rough scrimmage, maybe?” At the foul look Andritch sent him, he scowled and looked away. “I don’t know, man. He hasn’t been my partner in a year now.”

            “I am taking him home,” Renee said. “Help me get him to my car.”

            Andritch didn’t move. “We need to call a doctor.”

            “Josiah lives on campus,” Zane volunteered. “I’ve got his number saved.”

            “He is coming with me,” Renee said.

            “You can’t have him.” Zane flicked her a venomous look. “He belongs here.”

            That he was angrier over her intrusion than had what happened to his own teammate shook Renee to the core, and for one frightening moment she felt all the years of anger management and therapy start to coil undone. Maybe Zane saw something change on her face, because he took a half-step back from her and tensed for a fight.

            “You cannot stop me,” Renee said, in a tone far steadier than she felt. “If you try, I promise you will regret it. Mr. Andritch, you know the terms for my discretion.”

            “Now listen,” Andritch started, but there was more uncertainty than bluster in his voice. If he actually had a coherent thought to follow that, he couldn’t seem to get it out. When Renee flicked him a hard look he was staring down at Jean’s broken, bloody form. “I don’t know if we can even safely move him. It would be best to get someone here first to make sure he’s stable. Josiah, you said?” he asked Zane.

            “Head nurse,” Zane said, digging his phone out of his pocket.

            “I left my team nurse at the hotel before coming over here,” Renee lied as she pulled out her own phone. She hated making Jean a spectacle, but she knew she needed evidence. She took a few pictures of his bloodied, broken face. “I can send these to Kathy Ferdinand for her morning show, or I can delete these in the parking lot. Give me one Raven, or I will take them all.”

            “I don’t appreciate your tone, young lady,��� Andritch said. She half-expected him to try intimidating her to silence, but perhaps he knew it was useless. He could try to confiscate her phone and throw her off-campus, but she’d set too many pieces in motion already. She didn’t technically need Jean or these photos to destroy his school and he knew it. The best he managed was, “Let’s not jump to any rash action.”

            Jean’s fingers twitched against the carpet as their voices finally started to rouse him. Renee carefully peeled his hair out of the caked blood on his face and smoothed careful knuckles over his temple.

            “Hey,” she said, softening her tone immediately. “Jean, can you hear me? We’re going to move you just in a moment. I’m sorry, but it’s going to hurt. It’s going to really hurt, and I can’t stop that. I need you to bear it a little longer, okay?”

            At long last Andritch chose his side with a tense, “Let’s get him out of here.”

            The guard dragged Zane with him as he approached, and Renee moved out of their way. It took them a moment to figure out how they were supposed to get Jean off the floor. He didn’t stir at the feel of their hands on him, but as soon as they hoisted him off the carpet, he made a wretched noise in the back of his throat that had Renee’s eyes stinging.

            “It’s okay,” she promised him, unsure if he could even hear her. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

            “—ry,” Jean mumbled, so faint Renee could barely hear him. “Sorry, I’m—” the rest got swallowed up by another pained noise as the guard shifted his grip, and Renee locked her fingers together before she could reach for him.

            Andritch sent Renee ahead of him so he could take the rear and focus on his phone. From the sound of it he was rounding up the Ravens’ other coaches and calling them back to Evermore for an emergency meeting. Renee kept moving, trying to ignore the agonized sounds Jean was choking on as he was carried after her. She wanted to ask them to be more careful; she knew just from looking at Jean that they couldn’t be careful enough.

            Getting him up the steep stairs was the worst part, and Renee’s cheeks were damp with silent tears when she finally pushed open the last door. As soon as the men were clear of the door she hurried over to Andrew’s car. It took only a bit of jostling to slide the passenger seat back on its rails, and she tugged the latch until she could lay it as flat as it would go.

            Jean was boneless when they finally got him settled. Renee saw the unnatural way his head lolled to one side and feared the worst, but when she squeezed past Zane to check on him, she could still find a pulse. Unconscious from the pain, then, which was only a half-step better. It was six hours and change from West Virginia to South Carolina. Abby had offered to meet her here, and Renee should have agreed, but she was desperate to get Jean out of the state before Riko and his uncle figured out how to respond.

            “You’ll keep us updated?” Andritch said. He sounded calm, but she saw the nervous way he turned his class ring on his little finger as he studied her.

            “Hourly reports,” Renee agreed as she pushed the passenger door shut. He was standing close to her, so she obediently tilted her phone screen his way and deleted her photographs in front of him. It wouldn’t stop her from taking more once she got somewhere safe, but it was a token of good faith and the best he could hope for. “We appreciate your cooperation. Please feel free to delete the email you received this morning and contact Coach Wymack if you have any additional concerns.”

            “You’re making a mistake,” Zane warned her. “You will regret this.”

            Renee met his cold stare with a cool look of her own. “Your captain is free to take his grievances up with me if he has something to say about it. I’m sure he knows where to find me.” She didn’t wait for a response but looked at Andritch. “If we’re finished here, I will take the code for the outer gate.”

            The guard had to call his office again to get it for her, and Renee committed it to memory as she got in the car and pulled away. She had six numbers tapped into the keypad when the stadium door crashed open, and Renee glanced at her rearview mirror to see Riko in the doorway. He was dressed in full court gear minus his helmet, and the distance between them couldn’t hide the absolute rage on his face when he followed Zane’s pointing finger to her car. He took a couple steps in her direction like he wanted to chase her down, and Renee quickly put in the last two numbers.

            The gate rattled open, and Renee flashed Riko a peace sign out the window as she put the pedal to the floor. Unnecessary, she knew, but she could worry about her attitude later. All that mattered now was getting Jean to South Carolina. She had the window closed before they reached the interstate and called Stephanie on speaker.

            “I’ve got him,” she said. “We’re on our way south.”

            “How is he?” Stephanie asked. “How are you?”

            “Oh, Mom,” Renee said, and risked a glance over at Jean’s battered form. With the windows closed the smell of blood was thick enough to choke on. “I don’t know how he’s still alive.”

            “God’s not done with that boy yet,” Stephanie said. “Drive safe, you hear me? I know you were up all night. If you start getting tired, you call me to keep you awake or you make sure you pull over and rest a bit. You can’t help him if you go off the road.”

            “I know,” Renee said. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

            “I’m proud of you, honeybug,” Stephanie said. “I love you. Be safe.”

            “Love you.” Renee clicked her phone closed and dropped it into the cup holder between the seats. She reached out blindly for Jean, needing to check his pulse one last time, and thought she felt a hum against her fingertips as Jean tried to stir. “Sleep, Jean,” she urged him, thinking of the lone packet of painkillers in the bottom of her purse. “Sleep, and I’ll get us home.”

            “—ome,” was the slurred agreement, and Renee turned her attention back to the endless drive ahead of them.

[braydon711]

lazarus

March 2007

---

            In the predawn light, Edgar Allan wasn’t much to look at.

            On paper it wasn’t far behind Palmetto State in terms of enrollment and campus size, but whereas Palmetto State was built on sprawling land with low buildings and open lawns, Edgar Allan had taken a compact, vertical approach. That wasn’t to say the architecture wasn’t to be admired; even Renee, who had no eye for such things, could see the meticulous and ostentatious care put into the school’s appearance. A pretentious coffin, Jean had called it a month ago, when Renee asked after it. Fanciful and grim, she’d thought then, but now she understood.

            Her phone hummed in her hand, but Renee finished her slow sweep of the area before looking down at it. At this hour it would only be one person: she’d kept Stephanie up all night, needing another pair of eyes to guide her and lay the groundwork for this reckless stunt. Their call lasted most of the five-hour drive here from the cabin. Later Renee would apologize for the hours of lost sleep, and Stephanie would brush away her guilt and concern with the same easy care she always did. Now was too soon for any such kindness.

            “It’s sent,” Stephanie’s text said.

            Renee held down until a heart appeared and slid off the car to her feet. Gravel crunched beneath her shoes as she went for the front door. There was an actual knocker on the door, but it wasn’t likely to get her far. Renee put her thumb to the doorbell instead. The carved wood muffled most of the noise, but she heard the distant tones echoing down the hall. Renee let them fade, then pressed again. Two seconds later, again. And again. And again.

            It took a few minutes, but at long last there was a sharp clack of the locks snapping out of place. Louis Andritch yanked open the door in a half-undone bathrobe, looking more like a harried professor than a campus president.

            “Yes?” he demanded. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

            “Jean Moreau is dying,” Renee said.

            Andritch stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language, mouth still half-open on an abandoned tirade. She kept her stance neutral and her hands loosely folded in front of her as she waited for him to finally clue in on what she��d said.

            “Excuse me?” he finally managed. “What did you say to me?”

            “Jean Moreau is dying,” Renee said again, with an unhurried calm that ate away at her heart. Lashing out at Andritch prematurely would tilt this entire fiasco against her, she knew, but without Stephanie’s steady voice in her ear she had nothing to keep her fear at bay. Everything hinged on getting to Jean. If she could just do that, nothing and no one could stop her. This was the only part that Renee couldn’t control.

            Renee held Andritch’s gaze as she said, “Exy team, your perfect Court backliner. He is dead or dying as we speak, and I need you to take me to him.”

            “Listen,” Andritch said, putting a hand out like he could ward off anything else Renee had to say. “I thank you for your concern, Miss…?” She held out her student ID and driver’s license, but he only gave them a quick glance. “If there was a problem with one of my teams, my staff would have already informed me. I assure you I will look into it, but—”

            Renee saw the door start to close and moved into the doorway to catch it. “Mr. Andritch,” she said, in as pleasant a tone as she could manage, “I drove through the night for the slim chance of saving his life. I would prefer you escort me to Castle Evermore now, but if you would rather wait until your school makes the morning news that is your choice.” He frowned at her, not following, but Renee didn’t wait to be asked. “An article is queued to send to a half-dozen sites, and the author is prepared to give Kathy Ferdinand the scoop for her morning show.”

            “Where are you even getting this information?” Andritch demanded, and Renee tapped through her phone with her free hand to send a short X out. “These are some serious accusations you are leveling at me, young lady, and I do not appreciate being strongarmed.”

            “I would rather not do this,” Renee said. “We both know how much money is riding on championships this year regardless of the outcome. Our schools have too much to gain by seeing this through to the end. But I will not sacrifice Jean. Help me save him, and we can both forget this conversation ever happened. Please.”

            Andritch’s phone started ringing before she was finished. He ignored her in favor of answering it with a harried, “Yes?” He tried again to close the door, but Renee braced it with a hand and foot. He fixed her a warning look she wasn’t cowed by. “Yes, hello? Can you give me just a—”

            Andritch went still and calm as he listened, and Renee stared him down as Stephanie went up one side of him and down the other. She counted seconds between his “This is highly irregular” and “What proof do I have that this is not some cockamamie prank” protests, and they added up to so many minutes of wasted time Renee was tempted to leave him here.

            The first plan had been to bypass Andritch entirely and go straight to Evermore. Stephanie had talked her down from that, careful not to ask how Renee would circumvent the security system there. They needed Andritch on their side. They needed a credible witness. Without him they had nothing. Even if she could get to Jean on her own—they cannot stop me, Mom—how would she keep him? Renee knew Stephanie was right, just as she knew the nearest hardware store wouldn’t open for another hour. She was not above breaking into it, but the consequences would hurt them all in the long run.

            At last Andritch hung up. There was a sour look on his face that didn’t match the fear in his eyes, and Renee saw the tension in his imperious gesture to enter his front hall. The what if had taken hold; whether Andritch was more worried about his student or his school’s reputation she did not know or care so long as she got the desired results. Renee stepped in with a polite “Thank you” and stood off to one side so he could close and lock the door again.

            Andritch ignored her in favor of making another call. “Coach Moriyama, this is Louis. I need to have a meeting with one of your Ravens this morning, Jean Moreau.” He listened for a moment, and his eyebrows went up in surprise. “New York? Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Of course, family must come first. You have my condolences for your loss. Yes, of course. Yes, I can reschedule, it’s not that pressing. We can discuss it when you are back in town.”

            Force, then, Renee thought wearily, but then Andritch hung up and pointed at her. “Do not leave this spot. I am going to get dressed and call security.”

            And check his email, most likely, because Stephanie would have sent him a preview of her page-long exposé. Abby had reluctantly loaned them photographs from Kevin’s first night with the Foxes, leery of betraying Kevin’s trust by releasing them but trusting Renee and Stephanie to win Andritch over before they were forced to go public.

            Andritch’s phone rang again before he was halfway up the stairwell. “Hello? Coach Wymack, you said?”

            The rest of the conversation was muffled by distance. Renee hummed quietly to herself so she wouldn’t ask him to perhaps be a bit more urgent about the situation, and then her phone buzzed against her fingers. She opened it to a query from Stephanie and tapped out a quick update. She didn’t mean to click over to Jean’s message next, but a second later it was staring up at her.

            Kengo is dead, first. And then: Thank you.

            Two words that meant nothing, that meant everything, when just a few days prior Neil had offered Andrew a threadbare smile and Thank you, you were amazing. before getting ripped out of their lives with violent force. Thank you, goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

            Renee closed her phone and squeezed it until her knuckles ached. She looked toward the stairs again. She wasn’t sure if a “Hurry” or “I will meet you at the stadium” would make it out of her first, but then Andritch came down the stairs so fast it was a wonder he didn’t tilt forward and fall flat on his face. Renee made a note to gift Abby a spa day as soon as this was over.

            “You will follow my car,” Andritch said, snatching his keys off their hook with such force he nearly pulled the rack off the wall as well. He got the door and shooed her out, and Renee went for Andrew’s car with long strides. Andritch needed another moment to field another call, but he pulled his car door closed so hard Renee heard it over the Maserati’s engine. Finally, finally Andritch got on the road, and Renee pulled out behind him.

            Because Castle Evermore doubled as the home court for the national team, it was set a short drive from the rest of campus. Renee had never seen it before, but it was hard to miss the imposing building with its spired corners. There was no color on it; from the foundation to the towers it was painted a forbidding solid black.

            Pretentious coffin, she silently agreed, and then, But not yours.

            The entire thing was surrounded by a tall fence lined with barbed wire. Andritch passed a half-dozen gates before slowing to a stop at one, and he leaned out his window to tap away at a keypad. The gate remained closed, and Andritch tried again. After a few attempts he got out of his car, like somehow the angle of his arm was to blame for this. Renee assumed he had few reasons to come out this way, but that he hadn’t secured the codes on the drive over was frustrating.

            Movement in her rearview mirror had her glancing back as an unfamiliar car pulled up behind her. The driver’s door opened, and she saw enough lettering to guess it was campus security. Perhaps Andritch’s incompetence was just show, then, a means of stalling her until he could eject her from campus. She relaxed her grip on the steering wheel and waited for the guard to try her door, but he went past her without slowing. Andritch got out of his way to let him have a go at it, but he had no more luck than Andritch had. After two attempts, the guard had no choice but to phone his superiors.

            Renee glanced past them at the fence. She gauged the height and tugged idly at her jacket, wondering if it was thick enough to protect her from the barbed wire along the top. Likely not, but before she could commit to trying it out the gate finally rattled open. The guard went jogging past again so he could get back in his car, and the three drove into the Ravens’ guarded lot at last.

            The spots closest to the stadium were all taken by a line of identical black cars, so they double-parked behind them. The security guard sent a curious look at Renee as she joined him and Andritch at the door, but he was too busy trying to get them into the Nest to ask questions. Unsurprisingly he needed to call in for this access code as well, and he held the door open for both of them when he managed to get it unlocked.

            Renee expected to find a hallway; what she saw was a dark stairwell leading down. Red lighting on the ceiling did nothing to chase away the shadows. Renee was tempted to ask Andritch if he had honestly signed off on this thinking it was a good idea, but he looked just young enough she assumed he’d inherited this madness. Andritch led them down without comment or hesitation, so Renee trailed after him. One more door awaited them at the bottom, but the guard hadn’t bothered to hang up his call and he called out a code to Andritch from the rear.

            If Renee had expected the Nest to be an improvement, she was immediately and sorely disappointed. The rooms they passed through in search of a stray Raven were spacious, but the ceilings were too low and the entire thing was done in Raven black and red. It was a minor blessing that these ceiling lights were normal, but whoever installed the bulbs had chosen a weaker wattage that let shadows collect in all the corners.

            Renee keenly understood why the Ravens spent so much time on the court, if this was their only other option. She had been here for only twenty seconds, and she was ready to never come here again. Jean had told her the Ravens only left the Nest for away games and classes, and she wasn’t sure if that made this better or worse: she couldn’t imagine coming back to this pit willingly, but the thought of being trapped here almost every hour of the day turned her heart cold.

            Raucous laughter led them to a kitchen at last, and the conversation died when Andritch stepped inside. Renee looked past him to the four Ravens gathered around a square table. She had one moment to note their identical black clothes and another to take in their stunned expressions before one got up from the table with lethal intent.

            “Who the fuck—”

            “Your campus president,” Andritch cut him off. “I am here to see Moreau. Where is he?”

            The four exchanged baffled looks before volunteering, “He’s in Red Hall.”

            “Show me,” Andritch said.

            No one seemed in a hurry to obey, but after a pointed, “You’re already up,” from one of the Ravens at the table, the first man scowled and crossed the room. He put a finger in Renee’s face as soon as he reached them.

            “You’re a Fox,” he said. “You don’t belong here.”

            She was idly impressed he recognized her so easily, but considering how sour things were between the teams now perhaps it was to be expected. “Neither do any of you.”

            “Right now,” Andritch said before the Raven could respond.

            He settled for giving her an ugly look and pushing her roughly out of his way. Andritch snapped at him for his aggression as he followed, but Renee let it go in one ear and out the other. Signage on the wall pointed out the directions to Red and Black Halls, and they went down the one that would lead them to Jean. Despite the name, there was no more abundance of color here than there had been anywhere else. Most of the doors they passed were open, but Renee only spared a couple glances at the dark bedrooms.

            Finally their unwilling guide stopped in a doorway and hit the side of his fist against the frame. “Andritch is your problem now,” he said to whoever was inside, and he flicked a last annoyed look at the president in question. “Zane is Jean’s roommate. He’ll find him for you. I’ve only got ten minutes left of lunch before I’m due on the court, so I’m leaving.”

            “Your name first,” Andritch said.

            “Williams,” the man said. “Brayden. Striker, number nineteen. Done here?”

            “For the moment,” Andritch said, with a tone that said this attitude was going to dearly cost Brayden when Andritch could spare enough time for him. Renee was expecting his shove as he went back down the hall the way they’d come, and she kept her feet planted so he couldn’t knock her over. She didn’t spare him another thought but followed Andritch to the doorway.

            Identical beds were set against opposite walls, with two nightstands and tiny desks between them. Only one man was inside, and he wasn’t Jean. Renee glanced toward the empty half of the room and was surprised to see Jean had decorations up. Postcards were pinned to the walls, and the top of his nightstand was littered with either stickers or magnets. The urge to study his precious possessions was as fleeting as it was inappropriate, and Renee forcibly returned her attention to the greater problem: Jean wasn’t there.

            “—he is?” Andritch was asking.

            Zane didn’t answer immediately, but the look that crossed his face told Renee everything she needed to know. The Ravens they’d met in the kitchen seemed more annoyed and bewildered by this intrusion than anything; Zane’s hesitation now was a deeper understanding. He knew exactly why they’d come. Renee assumed he had a better vantage point for Jean’s ongoing trauma as his roommate.

            “He’ll be with Riko,” Zane said at last. “They’re partners.”

            “I don’t care whose partner he is,” Andritch said. “Someone is going to find him for me.”

            Zane got up from his desk but sent a long look at Renee. “She shouldn’t be here.”

            Andritch snapped his fingers to get Zane’s attention. “That is not your call. Move it.”

            Zane led them to Black Hall. Another dormitory, Renee realized, with only one door closed at the far end. Zane knocked, listened, and knocked again. He checked his watch, tipped his head back to think, and said, “First shift, but what day is it? They might be finishing up on the court right now. Come on.”

            As soon as he stepped past her, Renee went to the door. The knob turned easily under her hand. For one moment she was surprised at Riko’s boldness, that he genuinely trusted people to stay out of his space out of some semblance of respect. Then she had the door open, and the sight waiting for her erased every thought from her mind.

            Zane caught her arm to haul her back. Renee didn’t even feel his skin under her knuckles when she put everything behind her fist. Zane wasn’t expecting it and wasn’t at all braced for it, and he nearly took Andritch down with him as he was thrown back.

            The guard moved to intervene, but Renee was in the room and out of reach before he could get his hands on her. She let their outraged demands wash over her and was only distantly aware of how abruptly the shouting stopped when they followed her into Riko’s room. The only thing that mattered was the body on Riko’s floor.

            Not a body, Renee thought fiercely, and willed it to be true, but how could it be true when Jean looked like this? That Riko had just left him here like this was almost as horrifying as the state he was in, and she was trembling as she knelt on the ground by his head. She took five seconds to calm herself to stillness before reaching for him, and she pressed her fingers to his bruised throat in search of a pulse. The relief it sent through her was almost sharp enough to bite away her grief, and Renee sent up a quick and desperate prayer of thanks.

            “Jean,” she said softly, then louder: “Jean. Can you hear me?”

            “Good god above,” the security guard finally said. “Is he—”

            “Alive,” Renee said, and was just mad enough to add, “For now.” She looked toward the men standing across from her: the horrified guard who hadn’t signed up for this before he had his morning coffee, the Raven who looked uncomfortable but not surprised or upset, and Andritch, whose blank-faced horror could have been for his mangled student but was just as likely for his crashing career.

            “What happened here?” Andritch demanded.

            Zane lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Rough scrimmage, maybe?” At the foul look Andritch sent him, he scowled and looked away. “I don’t know, man. He hasn’t been my partner in a year now.”

            “I am taking him home,” Renee said. “Help me get him to my car.”

            Andritch didn’t move. “We need to call a doctor.”

            “Josiah lives on campus,” Zane volunteered. “I’ve got his number saved.”

            “He is coming with me,” Renee said.

            “You can’t have him.” Zane flicked her a venomous look. “He belongs here.”

            That he was angrier over her intrusion than had what happened to his own teammate shook Renee to the core, and for one frightening moment she felt all the years of anger management and therapy start to coil undone. Maybe Zane saw something change on her face, because he took a half-step back from her and tensed for a fight.

            “You cannot stop me,” Renee said, in a tone far steadier than she felt. “If you try, I promise you will regret it. Mr. Andritch, you know the terms for my discretion.”

            “Now listen,” Andritch started, but there was more uncertainty than bluster in his voice. If he actually had a coherent thought to follow that, he couldn’t seem to get it out. When Renee flicked him a hard look he was staring down at Jean’s broken, bloody form. “I don’t know if we can even safely move him. It would be best to get someone here first to make sure he’s stable. Josiah, you said?” he asked Zane.

            “Head nurse,” Zane said, digging his phone out of his pocket.

            “I left my team nurse at the hotel before coming over here,” Renee lied as she pulled out her own phone. She hated making Jean a spectacle, but she knew she needed evidence. She took a few pictures of his bloodied, broken face. “I can send these to Kathy Ferdinand for her morning show, or I can delete these in the parking lot. Give me one Raven, or I will take them all.”

            “I don’t appreciate your tone, young lady,” Andritch said. She half-expected him to try intimidating her to silence, but perhaps he knew it was useless. He could try to confiscate her phone and throw her off-campus, but she’d set too many pieces in motion already. She didn’t technically need Jean or these photos to destroy his school and he knew it. The best he managed was, “Let’s not jump to any rash action.”

            Jean’s fingers twitched against the carpet as their voices finally started to rouse him. Renee carefully peeled his hair out of the caked blood on his face and smoothed careful knuckles over his temple.

            “Hey,” she said, softening her tone immediately. “Jean, can you hear me? We’re going to move you just in a moment. I’m sorry, but it’s going to hurt. It’s going to really hurt, and I can’t stop that. I need you to bear it a little longer, okay?”

            At long last Andritch chose his side with a tense, “Let’s get him out of here.”

            The guard dragged Zane with him as he approached, and Renee moved out of their way. It took them a moment to figure out how they were supposed to get Jean off the floor. He didn’t stir at the feel of their hands on him, but as soon as they hoisted him off the carpet, he made a wretched noise in the back of his throat that had Renee’s eyes stinging.

            “It’s okay,” she promised him, unsure if he could even hear her. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

            “—ry,” Jean mumbled, so faint Renee could barely hear him. “Sorry, I’m—” the rest got swallowed up by another pained noise as the guard shifted his grip, and Renee locked her fingers together before she could reach for him.

            Andritch sent Renee ahead of him so he could take the rear and focus on his phone. From the sound of it he was rounding up the Ravens’ other coaches and calling them back to Evermore for an emergency meeting. Renee kept moving, trying to ignore the agonized sounds Jean was choking on as he was carried after her. She wanted to ask them to be more careful; she knew just from looking at Jean that they couldn’t be careful enough.

            Getting him up the steep stairs was the worst part, and Renee’s cheeks were damp with silent tears when she finally pushed open the last door. As soon as the men were clear of the door she hurried over to Andrew’s car. It took only a bit of jostling to slide the passenger seat back on its rails, and she tugged the latch until she could lay it as flat as it would go.

            Jean was boneless when they finally got him settled. Renee saw the unnatural way his head lolled to one side and feared the worst, but when she squeezed past Zane to check on him, she could still find a pulse. Unconscious from the pain, then, which was only a half-step better. It was six hours and change from West Virginia to South Carolina. Abby had offered to meet her here, and Renee should have agreed, but she was desperate to get Jean out of the state before Riko and his uncle figured out how to respond.

            “You’ll keep us updated?” Andritch said. He sounded calm, but she saw the nervous way he turned his class ring on his little finger as he studied her.

            “Hourly reports,” Renee agreed as she pushed the passenger door shut. He was standing close to her, so she obediently tilted her phone screen his way and deleted her photographs in front of him. It wouldn’t stop her from taking more once she got somewhere safe, but it was a token of good faith and the best he could hope for. “We appreciate your cooperation. Please feel free to delete the email you received this morning and contact Coach Wymack if you have any additional concerns.”

            “You’re making a mistake,” Zane warned her. “You will regret this.”

            Renee met his cold stare with a cool look of her own. “Your captain is free to take his grievances up with me if he has something to say about it. I’m sure he knows where to find me.” She didn’t wait for a response but looked at Andritch. “If we’re finished here, I will take the code for the outer gate.”

            The guard had to call his office again to get it for her, and Renee committed it to memory as she got in the car and pulled away. She had six numbers tapped into the keypad when the stadium door crashed open, and Renee glanced at her rearview mirror to see Riko in the doorway. He was dressed in full court gear minus his helmet, and the distance between them couldn’t hide the absolute rage on his face when he followed Zane’s pointing finger to her car. He took a couple steps in her direction like he wanted to chase her down, and Renee quickly put in the last two numbers.

            The gate rattled open, and Renee flashed Riko a peace sign out the window as she put the pedal to the floor. Unnecessary, she knew, but she could worry about her attitude later. All that mattered now was getting Jean to South Carolina. She had the window closed before they reached the interstate and called Stephanie on speaker.

            “I’ve got him,” she said. “We’re on our way south.”

            “How is he?” Stephanie asked. “How are you?”

            “Oh, Mom,” Renee said, and risked a glance over at Jean’s battered form. With the windows closed the smell of blood was thick enough to choke on. “I don’t know how he’s still alive.”

            “God’s not done with that boy yet,” Stephanie said. “Drive safe, you hear me? I know you were up all night. If you start getting tired, you call me to keep you awake or you make sure you pull over and rest a bit. You can’t help him if you go off the road.”

            “I know,” Renee said. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

            “I’m proud of you, honeybug,” Stephanie said. “I love you. Be safe.”

            “Love you.” Renee clicked her phone closed and dropped it into the cup holder between the seats. She reached out blindly for Jean, needing to check his pulse one last time, and thought she felt a hum against her fingertips as Jean tried to stir. “Sleep, Jean,” she urged him, thinking of the lone packet of painkillers in the bottom of her purse. “Sleep, and I’ll get us home.”

            “—ome,” was the slurred agreement, and Renee turned her attention back to the endless drive ahead of them.

[braydon711]

"nora how are we supposed to survive tsc" we're not, hope that helps

[braydon711]

Coincidence

August 24 for OiSuga Week: Fast Food / Teacher AU

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi Rating: G Word Count: 1,200  

Day five of @oisuga-week!!!

Every time Oikawa walks in to teach his kinesiology class, someone leaves a fresh cup of coffee on his desk. He has no idea who it is. 

Keep reading

[braydon711]

Eavesdropping. Suga had been eavesdropping and Oikawa had so clearly been having a private conversation.

Iwa-chan, Oikawa had said.

God, had it been Jiro’s mother? Did they still talk to each other? It wouldn’t be odd if they did, Suga reminds himself. After all, he knows next to nothing about the situation.

Nice going, Koushi, he chides. Eavesdropping onto a private conversation. Great way to make Oikawa hate you even more than he already does.

Suga has just set Jiro back down on the counter and adjusted his frock when Oikawa rounds the corner.

Jiro, who had been curiously watching Suga adjust his hair, sits up straighter at the sight of his father. Suga freezes, looking for any signs that Oikawa knows what he’d been doing just moments prior…

… but there’s nothing but a slight smile still lingering at the corners of Oikawa’s mouth. Nothing but a bunch of home remedy supplies in Oikawa’s hands… and when he meets Suga’s eyes and Suga braces himself for accusation, all he sees instead is a sort of calculating gaze that’s different from before.

“Daddy,” Jiro calls, breaking the moment and raising his tub of ice-cream. “Daddy, look what I have!”

[braydon711]

Carry Me Out To Sea

Read Here on AO3

The legend of the Trance. It was supposed to be nothing more than a silly fable passed around between sailors and pirates alike in the rundown, trashy taverns after hard months of sailing. No one really knew someone who was stuck in a Trance. They just heard it from someone who’s cousin had heard it from the town gossip who’d probably lied about seeing a victim of the Trance. So, it was easy to exchange amongst one another as a cautionary tale for those who wanted to live a life on the rocky waves. Don’t get too close to the water, don’t stray from your fellow cremates, and so one and so forth. However, it did nothing but encourage the young from testing the boundaries of what they could get away with, as there was no proven proof that the Trance was a real consequence.

Keep reading

[braydon711]

Warning: (OiSuga dj) not suitable for young eyes (pg 18)🤣

One of my fave OiSuga dj💕😘 by: Lovend,, i remember reading this the first time and i was touched.. i cried😢 it really touched me, made me feel FEElzz 💕it was that damn good!!

Not to spoil much buuut the story is about when two broken people meet each other and along the way help one another. im a suga trash and i ship him to everyoneee and one of my fave is this cuz its rare and just makes me think, wow they compliment each other really well~ or thats just me lool

[If you wanna read: Night friend first thenn Light friend]💕

[braydon711]

pls have this crossover no one asked for

[braydon711]

I just had an idea.... oisuga YOI au

You, dear Anon, could save the world with your ideas. You can have a little bit of my favourite scene as a thank you for your amazing idea!! (Oikawa is Viktor and Suga is Yuuri, sorry if that’s not the way around you wanted it)

Oikawa bought hot mulled wine from the Christmas market in Barcelona and sipped at it as he and Suga walked together past the stalls together. The brunet studied the other, smiling to himself at Koushi’s flushed pink nose and cheeks from the cold, and the sparkle in his deep brown eyes. Oikawa sighed to himself.

“We missed your birthday, didn’t we?” Suga asked softly, and Oikawa blinked at him repeatedly, raising an eyebrow over his cup as the silver haired man turned towards him. “But Christmas is soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Oikawa nodded, distracting himself with his drink. He raised the cup, half to hide his blush and half to actually drink the wine. Koushi fiddled with his scarf, sighing.

“I’ll get you a Christmas gift while we’re here.”

“You really don’t have to.”

Koushi lowered his eyes, nodding as he pulled his scarf up over his nose. Oikawa watched him and looped an arm around his waist gently. 

“Want to try some of my hot wine?”

“No thank you. I don’t like to drink before a competition.”

“Sorry Kou, I forgot,” Oikawa held him slightly closer, humming lightly.

The pair kept walking in a comfortable silence, with Oikawa holding Koushi in his arms, when the silver haired man’s eyes widened. He wiggled out of Oikawa’s grip and pressed himself against a shop window.

“Let’s go in here!” Suga said firmly, grabbing Oikawa’s hand as he pulled him inside. 

Oikawa followed him, utterly confused as Suga spoke to the employee, pointing to one of the pieces of jewellery. He handed over his card and nodded.

“This card please. I’ll pay in installments.”

When Koushi had paid for whatever it was that he was buying, he all but pulled Oikawa along to the Sagrada Familia. They stood together just under the archway as a group of carol singers sang next to them. Koushi, with trembling hands, removed Oikawa’s glove and slipped a golden ring that he’d bought onto his hand. 

“T-thank you Tooru. F-for everything you’ve done. I wanted to get you something and, well, this was the best thing that I could think of. A-anyway… I’ll do my best from tomorrow on, so, uh, please tell me something…”

Oikawa took Koushi’s hand and tugged his glove off carefully. He smiled as he picked up the other ring and slipped it onto Koushi’s finger. “Of course. Skate in a way that’s true to yourself, Koushi. Show everyone a programme that you are proud of. There’s only one way to a gold medal that I know of, and that’s it.”

Oikawa kissed him gently on the cheek and they walked together hand in hand away from the church, towards a street of restaurants.

“Look! Kiyoko-san, look!” Yachi squeaked as the pair pressed up against the window of a restaurant. 

“It’s Kageyama enjoying the company of another human being!” They both exchanged a grin as they watched Kageyama talk animatedly to the freckled young man sitting opposite to him.

“It’s Yamaguchi from Kazakhstan!” Yachi squeaked. 

“Oh, it’s Yachi and Kiyoko!” both ladies turned to see Suga waving at them. “What are you–”

“We need a huge favour!” Yachi squeaked out, pulling the pair into the restaurant.

And that’s how Koushi and Tooru, sitting next to each other, ended up opposite to a sobbing Kiyoko and Yachi on a table with Kageyama, Yamaguchi, Daichi from Thailand, and Iwaizumi from Switzerland.

“Way to play it cool you two,” Suga mumbled and Tooru snorted lightly. 

The group ordered their meals and soon relaxed into friendly conversations. Suga laughed a little as he sipped at his mocktail. 

“It’s kind of weird, huh? I mean, all of us hanging out together before the competition. It’s nothing like last year. I was always on my own then, at the banquet too. I didn’t even have the courage to talk to Tooru.”

Oikawa choked on his drink, coughing as he spilt it on himself. “Are you seriously telling me you don’t remember anything?”

“Huh?” Suga asked, raising an eyebrow.

“At the banquet you got wasted on champagne and started dancing.” Iwaizumi said casually. “Everyone was watching.”

“W-what?!” Koushi asked, eyes wide in panic.

“I got dragged into a dance off. It was kind of embarrassing…” Kagayema pointed out.

“A dance off, are you kidding?!” Suga shook his head, bright red.

“It’s true,” Iwaizumi added, leaning on his hand with a smile, “I danced with a pole and got naked. Well… Mostly.”

Suga screeched and buried his face in his hands. “Oh God no no no!”

“I still have pictures and videos if you want to see!” Tooru said brightly, patting him on the back as he held up his phone.

“Me too,” Iwaizumi showed Daichi, “But they’re not for the faint of heart.”

“Wait, are you serious? Koushi, that’s so dirty!”

“Yeah, we’re going to have to see that,” Kiyoko said firmly, trying to grab Iwaizumi’s phone.

“No no no, please stop! I’m begging you! Leave me my dignity!” Suga waved his hands in front of his face. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at the matching gold rings.

“What’s with the rings you boys are wearing?”

“Huh? Since when do you wear jewellery Koushi?” Kiyoko asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Koushi covered his ring quickly. “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Tooru held up his hand, grinning brightly. “And look! They match!”

Daichi stared at the two rings, puzzle pieces clicking together in his head, before his eyes widened and he stood up, applauding in the middle of the restaurant.

“Congratulations on your marriage! Everyone! My good friend here just got married!”

And there I shall leave it Anon. Thank you so much for your request xx

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OISUGA LAST YOUNG RENEGADE

Chapter 6!!

Read here!

[braydon711]

[braydon711]

the aobajousai au

[braydon711]

**As some of you may know, I took down tshoe a while back because i intended to rewrite it with OCs and attempt publication and I didn’t want the original floating around the Internet.

However, due to several changes in my life, I actually ended up not pursuing serious publication with tshoe. Today, I’m actually moving closer to my dream with a personal psychological thriller novel – from which I’ve been fortunate enough to receive full manuscript requests of over the past couple of months and am really excited about.

That being said, and due to being asked by several people about tshoe since it was taken down, I’ve decided to re-post the original fic.

I can’t promise that I’ll continue the story but I just wanted to show my appreciation for everyone who loved tshoe and especially to those who respected my decision to take it down when I did.

So welcome back everyone who read and loved tshoe when i first posted it in 2016 and new readers enjoy ♥︎