#<- the tag imma start using. time to go back and edit all my other posts LMAO

[dragon-spaghetti]

Oh, PLEASE tell me Husk refers to his kids as "my kittens" without even realizing it.

WELL HE DOES NOW

[thecapricunt1616]

Pink Pony Club (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan "I'm up, and jaws are on the floor. Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door. Blacklights, and a mirrored disco ball Every night's another reason why I left it all" ♡ Summary: You're an Exotic Dancer / part time house mom at The Pink Pony, and end up falling for a man that is probably old enough to be your father. ♡ W/C: 2.9k ♡ Poste Date: 06/10/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello all! again, for the asks that are atp starting to mold in my inbox - imma get to you. This specific dirty old man in a suit has been making me feel things lately, so naturally I had to write some porn about it. Asks are still open even though I cant promise it'll be done snappy. Hope everyones week is off to a great start so far!! Tagged those who commented on the post saying this would be a good idea just so you could see how it came out, hope you like :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: Age gap relationships (R is in her mid-to-late 20's, mentions of sex work, Club environments, swearing, smut, rough sex (Richie likes to be slapped around sometimes, kay?) lowkey simp!Richie, no use of Y/N - pet names only, readers stage name is Pixie Polestar , unprotected sex, not edited, we die like men!

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had met Richie just about 2 months ago. It was safe to say, life had chewed him up and spit him out lately. 

If he was being honest with himself, the dating pool wasn’t exactly rich at 46 years old. He could count on almost two hands how long it had been since he got his dick up for more than just the binightly pornhub browser. 

That led him into the Pink Pony Club one fateful August night. You were working your usual shift, Pixie Polestar. You - unlike some of the other girls - really enjoyed your job. At least, the aspect of having fun on stage, doing cute, sexy little acrobat-like tricks on the pole while horny men paid you to take more of your clothes off?

Yes please. 

You weren’t a back room kind of girl, usually. That was because the amount of money you made from tricks on the pole was more than a lot of the girls you worked with made in a whole shift while you just worked the 45 minute trick-filled stage set then would give a few $400 lap dances depending on your mood, before skipping on home, taking a hot shower, and slipping in your silk sheets with your air conditioner turning your bedroom something akin to an ice box. 

That was how that night was supposed to go. 

How the night really went, was some loud borderline obnoxious man at least 15 years your senior, had found his way into the Pink Pony. He was wearing a pressed navy blue suit, that complimented his pretty blue eyes. That was the second thing you noticed about him while he loudly whistled for Krystal who was currently doing her set. 

You weren’t really supposed to be here anymore - well- you didn’t have to be here. You had found yourself a solution, a real career path if you will. But you enjoyed your time on the pole because it was art, and dancing was a confidence booster for you. In any regard, you were going to get older, you were going to pass your prime as the house mom was always telling you girls, so you needed another stream of income. 

Of course, being a … *eh-hem* - exotic dancer was the word you preferred, stripper just sounded trashy to you, did come with its negative stereotypes, one of which being no where will rent to you - because you had terrible credit. So, naturally, being the resourceful woman you are - you walked your happy ass to the open house of a for sale by owner showing, and told the nice realtor you’d take it. 

Boom. Done, you had a place to live in 3 weeks, when you closed on it. Then, it dawned on you. The other girls you worked with had the same issue you did. So, you found another house, saved another 25k for the amount to put down, and rented it to your coworkers. 

It was the perfect system, because you knew you’d get your rent. You knew exactly how much money each girl made because you watched them make it, you knew where they lived, and they had to look you in the eye every night. So it’s easy to say no one ever tried you. The only real reason you hung around The Pink Pony anymore was because you wanted to keep an eye on your girls and dancing was fun too. 

When he first laid eyes on you, it was something akin to a cartoon character when their pupils turn into hearts. It wasn’t too abnormal, you were one of the more bombshell-esc dancers at the club, and that isn’t to say that you outdid anyone it was all based on preference. Some men loved plain Jane’s, and the plain Jane’s were just as beautiful as any of the other girls, but the reaction of men basically tripping over their feet to try and come talk to you was more likely going to happen to you then anyone else.  

But he…didn’t come over, that was interesting to you. So, you being the master of customer service you were, took your drink and kept your eyes locked on his as you made your way across the room, and plopped right in his lap. “Never seen you here before sweetheart” your manicured hand found the back of his neck, gently caressing over his skin. 

He tried to play it cool, but your tits we’re basically in his face, he could smell your perfume perfectly, fuck he genuinely can’t believe that a girl so beautiful just sauntered over and sat in his fucking lap. Was he dreaming? He found his mind racing, and for once in his 46 years he was dumbfounded and couldn’t find anything to say. 

“Cat got your tongue honey?” You smirked a bit, gently cupping his stubbly cheek and rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it gently before letting it snap back into place. He swallowed thickly, his hand resting on your bare thigh, just below the white glittery mesh coverup you were wearing. 

“I’m Richie.” He blurted out, his cheeks felt like they were on fucking fire, any blood that wasn’t rushing there was rushing to his cock and he found himself wondering when the last time he’d gotten hard so easy was. 

“Well hello Richie. I’m Pixie, what brings a handsome man like you in on a Friday night mm, no big plans?” You absentmindedly played with his chain, pretending to pay no mind to the long length that was hardening in the curve of your ass. All you would have to do is shuffle just a tiny bit and his cock would be nestled between your cheeks and the itty bitty powder pink g string that you wore beneath the tiny mesh piece of fabric that was basically for show and no use to cover anything. 

“I guess I was lookin’ f’some entertainment. Think I found it” he spread his legs more, causing you to sink further into his lap and his hand found the curve of your waist, his thumb rubbing little up and down strokes over the smooth skin. He never believed that the sheer triple x rated porn movie he was creating in his mind would become a reality that night but man did it. 

It was also his first night taking the dreaded viagra prescription his doctor had given him when he got real about his … shortcomings as of late. The man isn’t what he used to be stamina wise, okay? Nonetheless - he still rocked your shit - well, more like you rocked his. 

Who knew this foul mouthed, old school, borderline toxic masculinity-entrenched motherfucker would get so much pleasure from your palm coming across his cheek just hard enough it left a yummy sting and telling him “My eyes are up here you old pervert” as you bounced on his cock with a rhythm he couldn’t bring to the table himself anymore, and that in turn causing your tits to bounce like a fucking hentai film less then a foot from his face. 

Something about a younger girl calling him old and smacking him around all while using his cock to get herself off, babbling about how good he makes her feel made him more confident then he had been in years.

He often would find himself feeling a little pang of sadness after you started seeing eachother, in moments where you two were laughing a way he only ever did with Mikey before you came around, and making him feel like he was in fuckin’ High school again with how giddy he was to see you after every shift. All of it would just remind him how bad he wishes you could have met Mikey, and how bad he wishes he could tell Mikey. 

Richie knows, he would be so jealous, but in a brotherly way - that such a young hot piece of ass, a young smart, hot, funny, piece of ass was calling him daddy, told him he was ‘her mans’ whatever the fuck that meant. He assumed girls today call their boyfriends that, there were a lot of little phrases and lingo you had to explain to him and would always make fun of him for being old after doing so. 

He would tease you too, having some late 80s early 90’s radio station on (because the old head didn’t understand what streaming was) while he drove you around of course since he had learned from you that you were his ‘passenger princess’ and saying something like ‘oh babygirl this is before your time, this is from my day” before cranking up the radio and serenading you with Bad Girl by Madonna, belting it in such a silly, dramatic way between drags of his cigarette you couldn’t help but burst into giggles and kiss him at the next red. 

You had told him that when you used to do private dances that Like a Virgin was one of your favorite to dance to for the ‘older’ gentleman, he spanked you playfully when you said his crowd was older as he usually did, and of course later that night he had you perform for him and you ended up getting your back blown out to material girl since you had been streaming the song from your phone and didn’t care to find it and turn it off. 

When Tina had played it jokingly at family dinner one night, he couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips at the memory. Funnily enough, she was the first person to find out about you. Of course, he didn’t divulge anything other than he was finally seeing someone consistently, nothing about your age or profession. Based on the way Tina had reacted with clapping and kissing his cheeks, gushing “I’m so proud of you papa! That’s so good, this is so good for you! You need to get out there more” he was reevaluating his social life or lack there of and telling himself he needed to get out more, which lucky for him you were young and bubbly so you could get him out of the house. 

The next person he told, he really told, was Carmy. Well- technically Syd too, but she just happened to overhear. 

“W-wait wait” Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose how he did when he was baffled and confused, brows knitting together as he shook his head. “Lemme- lemme just get this straight - y’datin a…..” 

“Ex-o-tic dancer, cousin. It’s 2024, fuckin hell. Women dance and get paid for it - no big deal.” He repeated, emphasizing each sound as if what he was explaining was the most casual thing in the world, which - you had explained to him it should be so he took that and ran with it. 

“You’re fucking…a stripper- a stripper that’s what they’re called when they dance naked -  and how old did you say she was?” Syd questions. 

“Hey- she leaves her panties on she’s only naked top up, and plus she doesn’t even have to anymore she does it for the art.” He points the spoon he was wiping down at Carmy “this new NOMA bullshit we’re doin’ here isn’t the only art, Cousin. Shes an artist” he dropped the spoon in the bucket with the rest of the pristine ones he’d worked on. 

“Sure- and she’s fuckin younger then me” Carmy replied. “She could be y’fuckin-“

“Yeah, yeah - whatever she could be my fuckin daughter where’s your girlfriend huh? I don’t see anyone linin’ up to fuck you. She’s nice, and into me - and - and she’s funny and smart. So see already 2 qualities named that I don’t see much of around here so excuse fuckin me f’wantin to be happy when I’m not in this shithole” he teased 

“So- this not even 30 year old, she is gonna be y’date to the thanksgiving friends and family night - the one your daughter and ex wife are attending - and you think that will be a good idea considering tiff’s track record with girls you bring around” Syd questioned. 

“Yup” was all he said before taking the now finished bin of spoons to be put away, glad for the conversation to have finally been over. 

He rehashed the whole conversation with you later that night as you slowly rolled your hips into his, your skin sticking to his, both of you covered with a thin layer of sweat. You had his hands pinned next to his head, fingers interlaced with yours, practically speaking into your mouth as you kissed him sloppy and open mouthed, obsessed with eachothers taste. You always tasted of bubblegum, a habit you’d carried with you since childhood, he always tasted of cigarettes, a habit he had carried since high school. 

“Baby with my job I’m used to people not understanding me - I didn’t expect your friends to like me. My job - it can make people uncomfortable. But fuck them. You know how we feel huh?” You picked up the speed of your hips, using the curly deep brown patch of hair at the base of his cock to cause the most delicious friction with each thrust on his cock as you chased your orgasm. 

“Ye’ fuck em baby- shit- so fuckin tight- all mine right?” He breathed, mouthing over the bruises he’d left on your breasts a few nights ago. That was one thing about your job he had a bit of difficulty getting past, but you assured him you had no feelings for any clients and that you weren’t doing lap dances anymore only your stage set and otherwise you were just there to be more of a second house mom. But still, he was a man after all. He was possessive, a little jealous sometimes. So he loved to hear that you were only his during moments like this. 

“Yes daddy- all yours. You own this- you own me” you kissed his hand before bringing it to your breast and then using his shoulders as leverage to bounce further up and down, the action causing his head to fall back and jaw to fall slack. 

“Just like that - god- fuck - holy shit baby- shit-shit- y’fuckin close? How fuckin long has it been?” He pinched your nipple lightly, causing your pussy to clench around him and a pornstar like whine to leave your lips 

“It’s been 15 minutes- Christ you’re like a teenager. Can’t even last 30 minutes?” You teased, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting and nibbling the skin as you circle your hips, essentially jutting the tip of his cock into your g spot and that floaty feeling sneaking up on you as you feel him shoot rope after rope of arousal, painting your pretty, gummy walls a milky white and his stomach muscles clenching at the overstimulation. 

The grunts and moans that left his lips when you got him here were some of the hottest noises you’d ever heard a man make before, you were always sure to file them away in a special little folder in your brain for a rainy day he wasn’t able to get you off himself. “Feel good daddy?” You asked sweetly, sitting up and resting your hands on his hips so you could look down and watch as your mixed arousals gush out of you and around him, thick strings breaking with each slow, purposeful roll of your hips 

“So fuckin good baby- Jesus gonna finish soon? Dunno how much more I can do” he said, voice breathy, blissed out, nearly whiny. 

“Mmhmm few more minutes daddy- god we’re so pretty, I bet we taste so good mm?” You swipe the pad your forefinger over your clit, gathering the sweet and bitter white, making a show of rubbing it over the hardened bud of your nipple “feels good, too, wanna tell me how it tastes?” You leaned in and he nearly groaned as he took your breast in his mouth, crystal like eyes seeding into your own gaze as he flicked his tongue gratefully around the sensitive nub. 

You whined hotly, the sight of your tit in his mouth mixed with the feeling of his pants huffing through his nose and fanning over the swollen flesh as his tongue swirled and licked and flicked and drove you over the edge. You cried out, hips stuttering as you rode out your orgasm. His hand found your heat, rubbing with scissored fingers over your clit and meeting around his cock before dragging his fingers back up to repeat the assault. 

The action had you gushing around him, the contractions of your heat getting stronger causing him to groan into your skin and that vibration just added more stimulation. “Fuck yes- god daddy- always make me feel so good, no one understands how good we make eachother feel hm? Nothing else matters, baby, as long as you feel good, right?” 

You pulled him in for a sloppy, hot, passionate kiss. A kiss that made his heart do flips, and his stomach flutter, and made him feel way lighter.

Richie thought to himself in that moment he may be falling in love again, and he was equal parts fucking terrified, and excited to see where things with you went. 

He just had to get over ripping off the very last bandaid, and then you could really be together -

And that bandaid was Tiff.

@aestheticaltcow - @myszie - @wtfsteveharrington

[sanjisboyfie]

one piece smau: misc. edition

— miscellaneous :P probably pt.1 bc this is so fun to dooooo

— no romantic pairings, just the strawhats being cutie friends, male reader!!!

ー idk if the formatting is weird on desktop bc i did this all on my mobile 😭😭😭

liked by freeluffy, roro.zoro, and 8.6k others

-> ._.[name]: luffy is recycling, recycling is good for the enviornment!!! be like luffy <3

tagged: freeluffy

dni_nami: who on earth would want to be like that idiot ???

-> roro.zoro: no bc shes right

-> ._.[name]: you guys r so mean 😭😭

dr.law: im surprised there arent more bottles, u guys had the whole block awake....

-> freeluffy: we had to make five trips :DDD

-> ttchopper: FIVE TRIPS?????

-> dr.law: and when your guys' livers fail ill b there to laugh

-> ._.[name]: actin like u werent sneakin in shots of vodka :/// alright buddyyyyy

-> uso_pp: LMFOAOAO

-> SUPERCOLA: u jus got exposed

liked by ._.[name], dni_nami, and 4.6k others

uso_pp: im beggin yall to stop getting into drinking contests w zoro and nami

tagged: ._.[name]

._.[name]: naw trust next time i got em

-> uso_pp: didnt u say ts last time???

-> dni_nami: the fact he keeps thinking hes gonna win is crazy

-> ._.[name]: imma win back all my money

-> uso_pp: AND YOU BET MONEY??? ur gonna b in eternal debt [name]

princesanji: my beautiful nami is always coming out on top 😻😻😻

-> ._.[name]: who r u ???

-> princesanji: i dont interact w losers

-> dni_nami: sanji, ur the reason my username is what it is please do not test me rn

[liked by ._.[name], robinkills, and 80 others]

liked by ._.[name] and 7.3k others

robinkills: nami and i showing sanji and [name] who exactly they gotta jump

tagged: dni_name, ._.[name], princesanji

dni_nami: skank ass bitches invading a party that our friend is throwing jus to talk shit is crazy

-> ._.[name]: glad we took em outside 😋

-> princesanji: ILL FIGHT TO PROTECT YOUR REPUTATION MY QUEENS NAMI AND ROBIN - NO ONE WILL EVER DEFAME YOUR NAME IN FRONT OF ME EVER AGAIN

-> ._.[name]: one time ill agree w sanji on smth

freeluffy: no fair i wanted to come :(((

-> dni_nami: the pouting at not being involved in a fight is crazy

-> boahancock: my beautiful boy luffy i have many people you can have the pleasure of taking care of 🥰🥰🥰

uso_pp: their stupid ass bfs thinkin they stood a chance against sanji AND [name] was hilarious nglll

-> robinkills: it was over before it even started

[liked by dni_nami, princesanji, ._.[name] and 40 others]

liked by freeluffy, portgasdace, and 4.1k others

princesanji: someone donate this brokeass some money so he can buy his own packs

tagged: ._.[name]

._.[name]: HOW MANY OF MY LIGHTERS HAVE YOU STOLEN??? this is compensation

-> princesanji: stop lying i didnt steal shit from u

-> ._.[name]: I SAW MY ZIPPO ON YOUR NIGHTSTAND U FUCKING LIARR

ttchopper: smoking isnt good for u [name] :((

-> ._.[name]: suddenly i no longer like cigarettes

-> ttchopper: :DDD

-> roro.zoro: walked like a dog.

-> ._.[name]: ur just mad cuz chopper actually likes me

-> roro.zoro: im gonna kill u

-> dni_nami: chopper doesnt like either of u pls stfu

liked by robinkills, roro.zoro, dr.law and 13k others

._.[name]: my hearts <333

tagged: portgasace, freeluffy

portgasace: YALL SEE THIS im [name]'s favorite u wish u were me

-> freeluffy: i think [name] likes me the most, sorry ace!!!

-> portgasace: im beggin u to shut the fuck up

-> freeluffy: ur jus mad cus im right :DD

uso_pp: i wanna see a fight between these two over [name]

[liked by dni_nami and 50 others]

-> ._.[name]: u jus wanna see a fight mf shut up 😭😭😭

liked by dr.law, freeluffy, and 7k others

._.[name]: DAMNN PAPI ZORO GIVE ME ONE SHOT PLSLSSS 🤤🤤

tagged: roro.zoro

roro.zoro: we r never going to the gym tgt ever again im sick of ur bullshit

-> ._.[name]: can u pls come home and meet my parents i told them all abt us 🥺🥺

-> roro.zoro: i hope u die in a fire

uso_pp: unexpected couple of 2023 😱😱😱

[liked by ._.[name], robinkills, and 70 others]

._.[name]: he looks soo fionneneee

-> dni_nami: pls stop thirsting for zoro on ur main at least take it to the finsta [name] i cant stand this any longer

-> roro.zoro: how abt he jus stops in general???

-> ._.[name]: ur ltr in love w me stop being so obsessed in replying to my comments zoro 🙄🙄

-> roro.zoro: unlock ur apartment door im outside

-> ._.[name]: i feel unsafe.

[montygatorguy]

all the question for the fic ask thing just all of them

this took ages but thanks for the ask dude :D

💖 Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

i love all my fics, but i think im most proud of look all around at the mountains you haven’t climbed

🎥 Pick a fic and I'll tell you the song I imagine playing during its movie trailer.

ill go with an easy one, terrible things would be terrible things by axie

📝 How many words do you have posted?

55,334

🤩 What's the most meaningful comment you've ever received?

either when i saw your (reggies) bookmark on my autistic may fic or the guest that commented a bunch on my alenoah sickfic

🔮What's your favorite plot twist you've ever written?

i don’t write that many, but bringing romeo back as a ghost in glass half empty was fun

👄 Your OTP are having their first kiss. What song do you imagine is playing?

i won’t use maycois here, imma use gweather from td. they remind me of good luck babe by chapelle roan so that

🎭What genre of writing comes easiest to you?

probably just fluff. it’s fun

🙊Your coworkers or classmates stumble across one of your fics, but don't know you're the author. Do you fess up? Or keep quiet?

my friends and my parents all know i write, but if one of my classmates said something i would probably stay quiet.

🙌What's a line or paragraph of yours that you're proud of?

“When you’re a superhero, no one thinks you can die. They think that with every injury, big or small, you’ll always get back up. But that’s a lie. Superheros, no matter how strong they may be, are still human. And for the first time since they were bitten, the police saw the two of them as such.” from chapter 1 of glass half empty

🦉Is there another author that helped inspire you to write?

a couple, maybeimamuppet, onthelasttrain, and flylikeajailbird. all really good writers that i read on my early days on ao3. also all of my insanely talented mutuals here <3

👶Fankids: How you do you feel about them? Would your OTP have kids?

may and frankie would make great parents and i could imagine them probably adopting :)

🐗How do you handle trolls?

never had to deal with any thankfully, probably would just ignore

🟥How long do you spend in edits?

not really that long tbh

🏡What is your perfect writing envrionment?

school, usually when im supposed to be doing something else lol

💪What motivates you to write?

its fun getting to share the ideas i have with others and seeing what they think

🚿Where do your best ideas seem to strike?

almost all of my fics started out as scenarios i would think of before bed.

🌠What are your top three most commonly used tags on AO3?

from the other tags catagory it’s alternate universe - high school, canon divergence, and modern setting

💻What do you write your stories on? Laptop, phone, paper, etc.

my chromebook from my school, but i started out writing all the way back in first grade where i wrote a story about a superhero fish (that was vaguely base off shark tale lmao)

🤔What are some words or phrases you find yourself overusing?

probably just finding different ways to have people express affection, idk

📕How do you feel about people printing your fics?

if any of you ever do this i will lose my mind /pos, please tag me (but give credit!)

🤷‍♀️What's a fic you didn't expect to be popular, but really took off?

my one singular fnaf sb fic. i don’t understand why it has 300 hits. i need to write a better one sometime

🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic?

that APPARENTLY the canadian date format starts with the year. it was interesting

🥘What wip are you most excited about?

i hope sometime i get the motivation to finish terrible things because i have lots of ideas i just don’t wanna write them

🦗Do you write in sequence or jump around?

in sequence, but i usually plan things out first

👀 Would you ever accept requests or commissions?

maybe!

😱What's your greatest fear as a fanfic writer?

like you said, the actors reading my fics. that would be terrifying if i just woke up and checked my inbox and there was a comment from like. justin david sullivan. i don’t know what i would do.

☕Coffee or tea while you write?

i don’t like hot drinks. usually i just drink water

📈Which are your top three most popular fics by bookmarks?

throwdown (chase and mk sibling fic, 8) blaze (alenoah sickfic, 7) and haven (hg/ss lance and silver fic, 5)

🎬One of your fics gets turned into a TV series. Which one is it and what network is it on?

terrible things (let’s just pretend it’s finished) id love it to be a 2d animated show but im not sure on what network

🛌 What's a trope you haven't written, but want to?

oh god, i have no clue. maybe like a swap au thing or something with &j idk

🐸 If you incorporated your OTP into a Disney movie plot, which would it be?

the only movie i can associate with maycois or jumeo is moulin rouge tbh

👩‍🎓 Do you have an 'official' creative writing background such as a degree or previous experience publishing?

im just a high schooler with a chromebook, blorbos, and a dream

⏳If you could go back in time and tell your younger writer self something, what would it be?

that people won’t think you’re cringe or anything. people love your writing

💯 What rating do you write the most? Gen Audiences, Teen, Mature, or Explicit? How many fics at that rating do you have?

20 general, 8 teen. none for mature/explicit

😁What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?

comments or bookmark messages!

🐎 Would you ever do a medieval or pirate au?

maybe. i do love pirates.. yargh

👩‍🏫Pick a character and I'll tell you their favorite season and why.

ill pick may, they like spring. cause flowers :)

🎵Do you make playlists for your fics?

nope. i just listen to my fnaf playlist most of the time

🌷What's one of your fics that isn't as popular, but you hold dear?

holy shit, my vacation simulator fics. hats off to the one guy who commented on them, i love you

[nocturnalswarehouse]

Tag game!

I was tagged by @blossom-adventures and @thequeenofthewinter :)

3 Ships:

I'm going to delve away from Skyrim here because my procrastination response if I don't want to be productive around my place, is to immerse myself in as much media as possible. So an obvious one is OC/Brynjolf. Otherwise, Adi would not exist XD my others are OC (or reader)/Jacob Frye because I'm still hyperfixating on AC Syndicate. I also recently finally started Jane the Virgin, and I'm a slut for Jane/Rafael

1st Ever Ship:

I was but a young child, barely able to comprehend reading when my first ever a ship came to be. I shit you not. I think I was 5. It was Blue/Magenta in Blue's Clues. I found out a couple years ago was also my first gay ship, and I am HERE for it.

Last Song:

Boyfriend by Dove Cameron

Last Movie:

I watched one in my filmmaking class by a local director who created a film about a Ukrainian woman who immigrated to modern-day Winnipeg. Do I remember the title? Nope. Do I want to? Nope.

This movie was filmed back in like,,, 2019 I believe, is what he said and released like last year. It's two hours and could've been easily cut down to one. Very slow, almost too slow. I liked a lot of the shots. It was interesting to watch a film where only two characters - who were in there briefly - spoke English.

So there are good things about it, but it definitely could've been way better. I felt like the writing was almost too dry, and the director didn't give us any context as to what the plot was or any warnings that were needed (nudity and a certain subject related to nudity that is unpleasant to watch, to put it nicely).

I just think we should keep cishet white north American men away from creating films with that kind of subject because they don't,,, get it. Granted, neither do I but I do have an entire family of immigrants.

Currently Reading:

Well, it was my personality psych textbook, but no more! I hope to finish @thequeenofthewinter's fic because I'm behind due to school, and after that? Well, when the term starts, one of the texts for one of my classes is "The Handmaid's Tale," and I'm VERY excited to read it.

Currently Watching:

Too many things at once.

Jane the Virgin

Wednesday (I get the hype, I have critiques, but imma keep them to myself because it's very nitpicky and a bit pretentious)

RuPaul's Drag Race S14 (I'm on episode 7)

Canada's Drag Race S2 (I'm on episode 4)

The Witcher (started it in September, had a depressive episode)

Slow rewatch of Avatar: The Last Airbender because I'm following the podcast recaps and discussions

Slow rewatch of Kim Possible because I got bored and switched to the Witcher (it's great to watch after a long shift at work, though)

Wizards of Waverly Place (helped me through the depressive episode. Downside? I've seen it so many times the show is fully memorized)

Hunters on Amazon Prime (They re-edited the show to take out the scenes that got a lot of negative press, and I'm mad, so I stopped because they also re-edited my favourite scene in the entire show)

Teen Wolf (gotta prep for the movie coming out in 2023)

Okay yeah, so my fam and I have a lot of streaming services. Welcome to my Dad, and I are movie buffs

Currently Consuming:

Water. I'm pulling an all-nighter because I gotta be at the airport in two and a half hours, so if I sleep I will miss my flight. Gotta stay hydrated!

Currently Craving:

Tacos from a place back home, and lemonade from a pop-up lemonade stand that ends up at every big event in my city back home and if I can convince my parents I'll be able to get one and won't have to wait until Stampede in July next year. It's the best damn lemonade I've ever had.

The specific tacos I'm craving are the best damn fast-food tacos I've ever had, but I've definitely had better. My sister worked at a Mexican restaurant specializing in tacos that a family member owns, for god's sake. Although, now that I'm thinking about it, I also crave those. I think I just want tacos.

I can't really think of anyone to tag (the main person I would've tagged, tagged me first XD), so I pass this on to anyone that wants to do it :)

[paigemathews]

Okay seriously?! I don't understand that anon's problem?!?!?! Are people really that pathetic and needy that they sit waiting for people to reply all day long? In this day and age life is so incredibly busy and hard as you said there's not many moments to sit still and just appreciate life anymore and it royally sucks :/ I'm sure you just like me would love to have time to edit and talk away to people a lot more but sadly it only comes around every now and again for chances life has to come first no matter how much you may want to interact and obsess over your shows. If the anon is that bothered why not try messaging other charmed blogs who may have a little more time to answer if it's that big of a deal? Sounds to me like it's a teenager who doesn't have to work or have family, pay bills among other things such as health and just taking a "you" moment with a cuppa and a book to switch off for all of 5 minutes if that. I'd give anything for some time to live again adulting is soooo much fun..said nobody ever x'D

I think that to some extent, it's easy to view people on the internet, especially specialized blogs like this, as content instead of individuals doing something for fun. Same notion as why you shouldn't give criticism to people who don't ask for it. This is a hobby that people are doing for fun in their spare time, and they're not obligated to give you anything: fics, edits, meta, thoughts, etc.

The funny thing to me is that I definitely get the desire for more Charmed content. I mean, one of the only things I even use Tumblr for anymore is the Charmed tag. And it's definitely a small fandom and there's not a ton of people creating stuff or writing or editing or anything like that. Which is why I made this blog.

Like sometimes, if you want more content? More fics, more aesthetics, more headcanons, more meta, more anything? Ya gotta make it yourself. I mean. I'm not saying don't engage with other people's stuff, but this is a show that ended nearly two decades ago unfortunately. And depending on what you're wanting in regards to characters, ships, plots, scenes, etc., you're gonna have to do the specific stuff yourself sometimes. (Please be aware that I Am Not Saying Not to Engage with People but like if you're wanting something specific... you can also do that? Like, honestly, asking another blog and then still doing it yourself means more content, which no one is gonna be sad about.)

Okay, but yeah, back to the point. (Me going on a tangent? Pft, that's the entire blog, lbr,) Anon was definitely a frustrated teenager with a bit of an entitled fandom problem, who is almost definitely gonna look back on this in a few years and cringe. And I say that bc, while I was so by far not the worst, my entry into fandom was not on the best angle of things. (There's literally an apology on my FFN profile for anyone I ever gave "constructive criticism" to as a teenager, and I still feel bad about it today.) And don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly thrilled with getting called a bitch - actually, no, that's a lie, I started laughing at that, might be one of the best moments of my life. But I hope (and recommend) that they find their own creative way to engage with fandom! Just preferably not Dear John-ing random Charmed blogs for not answering fast enough (thanks @chloesaunders for that reply, it's now the exclusive way imma talk about it).

[viscountessevie]

What are your fav pre S2 fics and post S2 fics?

Sanji's Bridgerton Fic Recs

Am I allowed to plug myself? 😂😂 I just never end up on fic rec lists so you know what Imma be shameless and link my masterlist:

I'm really proud of my Kathony one shots (My 10 Things AU is a vibe but I've abandoned it sorry yall 😭) and I think my NB!Sophie fic deserves more love so please if you're interested have a read and let me know what you think 💞

As for the other recs - I'll be honest, I don't read as much fics as I should especially when I have so many amazing writer friends I really feel bad I haven't read or commented enough on their fics! That being said here's all my fave fic writers (literally mainly my friends shsjjsjs cos they're the only ones I trust to get the characters right):

@newtonsheffield aka Molly! She is first fandom friend I ever made in this fandom and the reason I ended up making this blog. I always saw her in the main tag and got really curious about her fics. Then I fell into the rabbit hole that is BSCU which I still need to finish 💀💀. I would rec all of her works tbh she has written something for everyone but my personal faves are the following:

1) Mysterious Fathoms Below - A Little Mermaid Kathony AU that's very soft and hella intimate. I was SUPER hyped for this one and Molly really delivered

2) Through The Wire - This was an intense and angsty AU where Anthony gets amnesia after an accident a little while after dumping Kate when they were getting too serious. It was brilliantly written and I honestly think this is her best work. It's so annoying that the puritans of the fandom gave her so much shit for some of her chapters, they can fuck right off this was my absolute fave fic of hers ever!

3) Royals - Hello we ALL LOVE a Princess Diaries 2 AU! This was such a fun read honestly it's been so long I need to go back and reread. Also watching the movie right after hits different and gives you all the feels

[Ik she has other faves she'd hype up more but I haven't read those yet jshdjjd so I can't really comment on them but oh! Honourable Mention because she's mentioned she loves this AU but it's very underrated and I still need to read it: Post Traumatic. It's a Jurassic Park AU AND Kate is a fight pilot it's iconic]

I would also recommend going through the tags of those fics because she always has fun snippets, edits and playlists for them! It really drums up the hype while you're waiting for it to be updated.

~

Next up we have Lil aka @sharmasandcorgis whose writing I absolutely adore and I think she's hella underrated so please go give her some love on her AO3

1) Leap Year - If you haven't already guessed I go feral for movie AUs I think its a film writer thing lmao. Based on the movie of the same name, it's enemies to lovers EXCELLENCE, with a side of fake marriage we love to see it!!

2) Mornings - It's pregnancy Kathony fic and is so so soft and comforting. I was literally Agnes reading it: IT'S SO FLUFFY I'M GOING TO DIE!!

3) So I need to catch up on her other fics but she's so brilliant I couldn't pick a 3rd I'm just reccing her entire AO3 works!!

~

Zaira aka @jeanvanjer who needs to write more fics for us because her writing is AMAZING, currently only has The Ghost of You up at the moment. Very soft but angsty and sad, get tissues ready before reading.

Look out for her Sugar Daddy Professor Anthony AU at some point down the line.

~

Triv aka @hptriviachamp is my fave Regency fic writer because she's very good with the language of the time, does thorough research for every fic and as a Poli-Sci major, always has a political touch in her fics it sets her writing apart from the rest of the writers and makes her stories so unique!

1) Suddenly A Smile, Shyly Obscene - Johncesca's first meeting fully fleshed out. I watched this fic come to life in our GC whenever we had writing sprints and let me say I'M OBSESSED! She really understands Johncesca and the way she writes John makes me go feral, her John is now Canon John imo.

2) The Courtship of Charlotte Bridgerton - IT'S *THE* NEXT GEN FIC! Charlotte and Clairmont are super compelling especially with how it progresses and no spoilers but there's a suprise on Clairmont's part 👀. It's a really refreshing take on a certain kind of relationship and the characters are just so fun to read about.

3) A Very Bridgerton Diwali - The very first fic of hers I've read. It made my heart sing because it reminded me so much of how my family and I are during Deepavali so it hit close to home in a very soft way.

Author's Pick: Do Not Go Gentle Into That Senior Year (Just Rage) - A Kathony HS AU with all the tropes of a HS au and beats of their story in one fic.

Honourable Mention: I'm Your National Anthem - A very spicy politically charged Kathony Politics AU but it's on the back burner as a WIP and hasn't been posted 😭😭 if it ever comes out please go read it!

~

Belle aka @sophiamariabeckett !! My fandom wife 😍😍. Heads up, we're moving into Benophie territory.

1) Bridgertons' Anatomy - IT'S A GREYS AU!! I was really surprised to hear her tell me this wasn't hyped up more like don't yall love Greys?? AND OFC THE BRIDGERTONS WOULD BE A HIGH POWERED DOCTOR DYNASTY FAMILY!

Of course it's Benophie centric and Ben/Sophie (Baek!! She's Korean yall) are super cute in it but my fave chapter is Nepotism Babies where Anthony and Simon meet for the first time 🥺🥺🥺

Soo gooo read it - Belle also made a lot of edits for it, go give it some love!

2) Fallen Through Time - Outlander AU nuff said, very angsty and just iconic I mean when Jamie and Claire are the blueprint and you apply to Benophie it's just chef's kiss!

3) Author's Pick: Dusk Til Dawn - Violet Bridgerton II's Birth! Another fic that was born in our GC and it is so so soft. Okay but like the way I initially wrote From Dusk Til Dawn til I realised that's a video game 💀💀

~

Last but certainly not least, Michaela aka @minim236 is literally our fandom's Bob the Builder fix-it fic writer. Canon broke it? Michaela can fix it, yes she can!

Her AUs are unmatched! Lots of fun rarepairs but she makes them work and you can see why they fit together. My personal favourite fic is tied between these two so I'll put them in the order I read it:

1) The Marina/Simon Series - An AU where Simon and Marina strike a deal to enter into a marriage of convenience so she won't be ruined and Simon can say Fuck you to his dad by not having any biological kids to take the Dukedom. Also these two deserve better than being ending up with r*pists (Ik Show Phillip didn't since they won't need to consummate their marriage and she doesn't seem to have PPD but still Book Philip can go die.)

I think this was the first ever fic I read from her?? So definitely has a special place in my heart!

2) [Also Author's Pick:] A Papa Sharma & Mary Love Story. My soft spot is Kate and Edwina's parents I WANNA KNOW EVERYTHING and this fic series fulfilled that!! Their love story was so so sweet and we had baby Kate and Mary moments I was sobbing! We also had a moment where Vi was being a ignorant white lady lmaoo it was funny and I lowkey wish she had been called out for it within the narrative hshshs.

Bonus Sequel: Letters Sent & Read

Sorry M I gotta admit I haven't read this one yet but I will soon! The premise is promising and I'm excited to read it 🤗🤗

3) Ruin

He would not ruin her. How could he ruin such beauty? Benedict is an artist without a muse or motivation. Until he is introduced to Sophie Beckett, a guarded ballet dancer who lacks passion and does not want to be his muse. The attraction between them is confusing, especially to her.

I need to read this but it's a monster of a fic and I love that! Hopefully it will be finished by the time I can start it and I'll be able to binge it ehehhe. I will say I always see edits for it and they are amazing!!! So please go give them some love 💞

Also anon I know you asked for Pre-S2 and Post-S2 fics, but I can't recommend any good fics that are canon compliant with S2. I've given up on trying to find good ones without a Kathani jumpscare and I have talked about it on my blog a couple of times (recently talked about it in the comments here) but I hate HATE the trend of Abusive!Sharmas and White Saviour Kathony saving Kate from her 'oh so horrible' family, it's fucked up. Please go read TVWLM and come back with better characterisations of the Sharma Family Unit thanks, we don't claim the dysfunction on the show.

Thanks again for the ask anon and everyone goooo read my friends' work, just absolutely brilliant writers!

[palbabor-writes]

Latibule

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attacks & hypochondria, adult language, eventual SMUT

Words: 9790

His usual spot at the cafe is taken, and he’s already decided to keep walking on, but somehow, somehow, he manages to catch your eye.

His feet are slowing, a stuttering breath stagnating in his lungs, all at once hopeful and bewildered, but before he can examine his fluttering emotions, you’re alongside him on the noisy sidewalk, passing him his usual evening drink, a pleased smile on your soft lips.

Suddenly, the world smells like velvety pine and heady bergamot, and he can’t stop staring down at you.

Notes: hi. this is my first real foray into the world of Haikyuu!! & i’m so excited to branch into this fandom! if this is your first time reading my stuff imma warn you, i take things slow, so expect some slow burn. 

this will be a multi-chapter fic with eventual NSFW/18+ only content. i will post warnings for each update. i’ll also link other chapters on this page and any other pages that come up, so keep in mind that there will be edits to links as things progress - i wasn’t planning on this being anything more than a one-shot, but this first exploration of Sakusa’s character turned into a monster & i wanna really hone in on that sweet, sweet build up. 

big, huge shoutout to @wickedfaerytale & @albinoburrito​ for their edits and suggestions. y’all are amazing and i love you both so much, this fic wouldn’t be what it is without the two of you. 

Latibule /lat-i-bule/ noun a hiding place; a place of safety and comfort 

pt. i: an opening 

[ pt. ii: four set ] ||

It’s a quiet coffee shop. 

He likes that about it. He likes it almost as much as the simple fact that he can tell what day of the week it is by the smell of the disinfectant and bleach that’s being used behind the counter. 

There’s a strange comfort to this place’s consistency and Kiyoomi Sakusa likes to linger here, propping his MSBY issued volleyball bag beside his usual table. He’s already placed his coffee order with the cheerful man who guards the cash register, watching as his paper cup is marked with a fresh sharpie and placed on the bartop, beside the elbow of that barista who always attentively turns to wash her hands before making each new order.

He had stumbled upon the shop his senior year of college and he’s haunted it ever since, content to sip on a smooth cortado as he watches over the latest plays from the MSBY games, mapping out his overestimations, his successes, and his flukes in his notebook– carefully lined kanji listing out what worked and what needs some extra practice. The caramel sweet flavor of the ristretto shots always helps to relax him, his broad shoulders lowering, the ache of self-induced tension and overworked muscles easing as his drink cools between his fingers, finally sinking fully into the plush leather seat of his clean chair.

The young woman, he should know your name, but he’s never caught a proper glimpse of your name tag, because you’re always moving, gives him a familiar lifting of smooth lips and places his completed drink on the handoff plane. You know his personal preferences well enough that you’re already moving the caddy of lids and cardboard sleeves forward, so he can select his own from the neatly stacked row. He gives you a cursory nod and his calloused fingertips pull the frothy beverage into his hands, cupping the curved sides and taking a deep drag of air through his masked nose, inhaling the bright smell of fresh coffee.  

And…vines…or is it a tangy pine? 

There’s something else that’s tickling his senses, and he blinks toward you, dark brows knitting together, a misplaced curl of inky hair brushing against his forehead, trying to make sense of the smell. His chin lifts and his head tilts, eyes watching your polished movements as you move onto the next drink in line. It’s definitely got some floral notes, but it’s not cloyingly sweet, like honeysuckle or gooseberry–no, it’s got some kind of balmy spice to it. It returns when you move closer and he swears he can taste summer when you shift back. 

Odd. 

When you look up at him again, he’s already stepping away, his running shoes squeaking across the slate tiles, making his way back to his bag and table. The aroma of your perfume is half forgotten when he cracks his laptop open, squirting some hand sanitizer across his chapped palms before he starts to clack his fingertips across the dark keys. He needs to get more lotion; he thinks as the sterile solution cools between his splayed fingers, this weather always dries his skin out.

The next time he comes in he spies you at the back of the shop, jotting something down in a large binder before kneeling behind the counter, returning with a sparkling, grated drain top. The white gleams under the accented lighting and he watches as you thumb at the paint, denoting a splotch of rust that rests under the dip of the metal. You return the cover to the ground and immediately twist to the hand washing sink that rests behind the bar, lathering up some dispensed soap and methodically stroking from the tips of your fingers to your wrists. A steady puff of steam is rising around you as he places his order– 

[ a oat milk smoothie, with an extra scoop of protein powder, chia seeds, turmeric, kale, cucumber, dash of dates for sweetener ] 

and by the time he’s paid and padding toward his usual spot, you’re finishing up, yanking a few disposable paper towels from the overhead dispenser and gingerly drying your damp hands. 

He’s seen you wash your hands plenty of times before, but he finds himself distractedly following your movements this afternoon as he waits for his order and his computer to finish booting up. You catch his obsidian eyes when you turn around and give him a brief smile; a flash of teeth peeking through your lips before you move back to your binder. You jot down a few more notes as you move onto the fridges that sit under the countertops, pulling and prying at the gaskets that line the doors of the whirring chillers, speaking softly to a fellow employee, pointing out the missed stains and chipped flecks of ice that like to hide within the folds of the protective plastic. 

You’re not overbearing in your coaching, keeping your tone even and friendly, focusing on what can be done going forward, rather than lingering on the ‘what if’s’ and ‘why wasn’t’ of the situation.

Practical, efficient, thorough with your work, and careful with your craft. 

Those descriptors float to the forefront of his mind as he takes his smoothie from the barista that’s standing beside you. He lets his gaze hold against your half leaning form, watching the lead tip of your pencil mark over the stark red checklist that you’re working your way down. 

He’s not sure why he’s so focused on you. He’s never thought much about you. You’ve been someone that exists in the background, part of his routine to be sure, but he justifies that your attention to detail is likely the reason why he prefers this shop to the dozens of other coffee houses that litter the main street by the MSBY training facilities and stadium. Your head shifts, and he can tell you can feel his gaze, so he swiftly plucks up his icy cold cup, his nose involuntarily trying to seek out that perfume you’d been wearing the other day. 

Strange. His brow furrows, and he hunches into his sports jacket, walking back to his chair and his glowing computer. He can’t smell it today. Maybe you’re too far away, or perhaps you’d forgotten to put it on before coming in.

Pity. He’d liked it.

“Running a little late today, I see,” your voice snaps him out of his stupor, onyx eyes lifting to rest against your open expression. 

“Kind of,” he replies blandly, his deep cadence muffled by the pull of his mask.

“Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be late! Want me to push your drink to the front of the queue? I’ve got the power to do that, you know,” you tease, tilting your head as a mischievous grin settles over your quirked lips. Kiyoomi blinks impassively down at you and shakes his head. How would he even reply to something like that? You were joking, right? You must be. And if you weren’t, the people who are clustered around the handoff plane would certainly realize that he was being given his drink first, clearly ahead of all of theirs, and they’d probably toss him a few disgruntled stares or mouthy jabs, and likely accuse you of playing favorites. 

Wait. Favorites? 

Does he count as a ‘favorite’ here? He looks away, lips drooping into a pursed line. You’ve always been…nice…but there’s no way he’s a favorite of yours. He’s hardly spoken to you in the year and a half that he’s been coming here. But is that all it takes? Just take up space in the cafe a few times a week and get special treatment? 

No. You must be joking. 

All the same, your jovial tone and that welcoming smile is a little intriguing.    

He shuffles closer to the heat of the espresso machines, easily lifting his head over the lip of the bronze metal, watching you. You’re looking down now, fingers gripping the dark handle of the portafilter, holding it under the buzzing grinder to gather a fine sprinkle of dusky espresso grounds into the waiting basket. Then, you lift a lustery tamp to the heaping mound and press expertly against the delicate remains of the arabica, packing them to an even level before clamping the filter under the display of the machine. When you flick the switch that activates the group head you must sense his stare and lift your eyes to his, eyelashes momentarily fluttering against your cheeks when you spy his unabashed observations of you.

For a second, your hands falter, trapped within the unexpected intensity of his curious gaze, and you pat blindly for the cup that’s sitting to the right of your curled arms, embarrassingly disarmed by his transparent focus. But once your grip wraps around the waiting plastic, it seems to ground you and you let out a huffing chuckle, eyes crinkling up at his half obscured face. 

“I’m only kidding about moving your drink up, don’t worry, I won’t get you in trouble. Besides, it’s against our policy. First come, first serve and whatnot,” you assure him, halting the stream of water that’s pouring the carefully timed flow of espresso into the clear shot glass that’s waiting against the gleaming metal of the drip tray. 

“You’re busy today,” he notes, jerking his curly head toward the gaggle of college students sprawled across some of the bigger tables, their laughing voices and overly loud conversations easily drowning out the hum of lofi jazz that’s playing from the recessed speakers.

“Ah, yeah, finals are coming up for a lot of us that go to the university. I know my classes are starting to gear up for that last push and sometimes you just need a pick me up and coffee is great for that. We also get a big boost from the smoothies and frappes that we sell in the afternoons, so we get a little packed. Most of our sales happen during the weeks leading up to finals and midterms, uh, anyways, not that you asked for an economic lesson on a small cafe’s profit margins.”

“You’re a student?” he asks, head dipping back, eyes glittering in the lights. Wait. How old are you? Not that he can boast any sort of seniority on that front, he’s only 24 after all, but you just seemed, hmm, more mature? He didn’t picture you as a co-ed. Not that he’s actively picturing you when he’s not here. Well, he is a little recently, but you’ve always felt sort of timeless? Ageless? Is that the right term? You give off an air of confidence. So he’d assumed that you were older than him. Not in a bad way, in fact he’d sort of like it if you were. Why, that is, he’s not willing to look too deeply into, at least, not right now. Maybe later, when he gets back home and can…oh, you’re talking again.

“I’m a graduate student, but not for much longer. I’m finishing up my dissertation this week! Thank God. This semester has been the pits, I’m so ready for a break!” You sound genuinely happy and he can smell that faint aroma of your perfume each time you move. 

“Congratulations,” he murmurs, unsure if you’d heard him since you’re stepping away from the machines that he’s posted himself behind. He watches you set up two steaming drinks, topping them with a lazy swirl of silky, housemade, whipped cream, a crosshatch drizzle of caramel, carefully snapping a set of black plastic lids on top, before calling out the handwritten names and handing them off to their respective owners. Then you’re back, hands already unhooking the portafilter, knocking out the used espresso pucks into the trash and bringing him back to that spicy smell of summer that sits on your skin.

“Haha, it’s a little early for a congratulations. Don’t jinx me, will’ya? But seriously, thanks, that’s nice of you to say,” you continue, flowing easily back into this half-hearted conversation he’s accidentally struck up with you. He winces at that thought and dips his hands deeper into his jacket, hunching his shoulders into a habitual slouch that he instinctively imposes upon himself when he’s out in public.

“You want a lid?” you question over the hiss of the machine, and he lifts his head, finding your bright eyes through the misting remains of the cleared steam wands. 

“No.” His response is clipped, and he gulps down a sudden burst of hazy anxiousness when someone brushes past him, jostling him closer to the low wall that divides the bartop from the cafe floor. He braces himself against the warming top of the machine, his large palm steadying himself, shoulders caving forward, his dark curls falling over his eyes, obscuring his face further. He clenches his jaw, a scowl blooming over his lips. 

His social anxiety isn’t anything new, and it’s likely exacerbated by the bustle of the nearby college students, who seem to be getting louder by the second. The noise is needling under his skin. He starts his carefully ingrained breathing exercises, tugging in a deep stream of air through his flared nostrils. 

But the smell is coffee is too overwhelming and suddenly his ritual doesn’t help much. 

He can feel blood leaving his fingertips and toes, or as his cousin Komori puts it [ the inescapable dread of some imagined ailment, which is making him think that his body is rushing blood from his extremities to his vital organs, his fingertips cold, hands shaking, when in reality ‘you’re just feeling unsure of yourself, man. It’ll be ok in a minute, promise!’ ] 

But in the end, it doesn’t matter what anyone calls it, or how they think he should feel during these heart pounding moments, he just knows that he wants to get out of here, now. 

His agitation must have twisted the top half of his expression because the feel of your warm fingertips against his wrist jerks him out of his head, causing him to suck in an unsteady breath as he lurches backwards, pulling away from your offending touch. 

“Oh! Sorry! I didn’t think…I just…” you bite your lip, a look of stark worry passing over your usually open features. “Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Are you…are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” he grunts, teeth clenched, right leg bouncing in place against the tiles. Shit. It’s not like he could have predicted that you’d try to touch him, so you can’t really blame him for his misplaced reaction. Just get him his coffee and he’ll be on his way…

Come on…come on…

“Here you go. Sorry for the wait, Sakusa,” you lift on your tiptoes, the stretch of your legs and arms apparent as you hold his cup out, careful to balance yourself against the lever of the steam wand. He takes the proffered drink and nods his thanks at you, his gaze dark. The gesture might be a little strained, and he knows you likely think he’s some kinda freak at this point, but he’s glad to see your customary smile before he turns, shouldering his way out the door and into the promise of open air.  

“Stop being so secretive about this place. It’s not like you can’t search for it online, Omi Omi. I saw you come in with the logo of their shop last week and I wanna try it out. Don’t cha’ gimme that look, I deserve to have good coffee too! And if it’s close by you can’t just keep it to yourself! Think about the rest of us, huh? Besides, I think they’d like to see something other than yer’ prickly face every once in a while.” Golden haired Atsumu Miya, his fellow teammate and setter for the MSBY Black Jackals, has been walking beside him for five blocks, jabbering on about the bland offerings of the big box coffee chains that surround their home gym, and how he hasn’t had a good cup of coffee in days. Tch, he’d said months originally, but that was an obvious lie. After all, Kiyoomi pointed out, slipping his mask on before the two stepped into the strong midday sun, he’d come in with an iced coffee two days ago, proclaiming to the whole team it was the best he’d ever had, bar none. 

“It’s a small shop,” Kiyoomi glumly elaborates, his dark hair soaking up the rays of sunlight as they crossed the bustling pedestrian walkway. “I think it’s run by an American. The staff speaks English, besides Japanese. There’s one barista in particular, a young woman, she has–”

“English? Oh, hell yeah! I can practice! This is perfect! They got any specialty drinks? I couldn’t see any from the menu that they had online, but I told ‘Samu I’d send him a picture of the place.”

Hmph, what’s the use of bothering to hold a conversation with this guy, Kiyoomi thinks, obsidian eyes narrowing as his brows furrow over his scrunched face, watching Atsumu chatter on about the vague sampling that he’d seen on their website. He’s not listening, anyway.

The coffee shop bell dings as the two of them step into the space, greeted by a waft of freshly ground coffee and the sharp tang of disinfectant. “Ahhh,” Atsumu says, propping his hands on his trim hips and fixing Kiyoomi with a pointed look, “totally see why you like the place. It smells like they have a freaking bleach, whaddya call those, ah, an air freshener! Yeah, smells like they have an ‘eu de bleach’ wall plug in.” 

“It’s clean,” Kiyoomi affirms, his own hands sliding into his pockets, fingers wrapping around his wallet as he steps into the line. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Not at all,” Atsumu grins, resting an arm on Kiyoomi’s shoulder as he glances over the chalkboard menu. “Just can tell that must be why you like this place so much. Bet you huff cleaner as soon as you get home.. Speaking of, I still need to see your new apartment, heard you let Ushijima come by and that’s not fair at all. Kinda– ow! Omi, ya’ friggin ass!” 

Kiyoomi jerked his arm upwards as he stepped toward the register and the abrupt displacement sent Atsumu’s hand flying up, managing to perfectly strike himself on his nose as he attempted to counterbalance his sudden shift in momentum. 

“HA-ah, ahem, I mean…hello! Nice to see you again, sir!” the barista calls out, poorly concealing his mirth at Atsumu’s fumbling behind a gloved hand. Kiyoomi nods curtly, his order on the tip of his lips, but before he can utter anything Atsumu is beside him again, leaning against the well lit pastry case and peering over his options critically.

“Hmm, ya’ got any of those little madeline cakes? They’re vanilla, kinda look like a shell? Saw em’ on yer’ website.” 

The barista gives Atsumu a broad grin and twists to talk with someone who’s below the arched dome of the food case, quietly asking a few questions before looking back at the blonde man. “Yeah, we do! We’re actually just putting them out, my manager is checking for the–”

Atsumu steps impossibly closer to the gleaming glass and pops his head over the dome, peering down at whoever is restocking the sweets. “Oh! Hey there!” he chirps, lowering his chin, his face pulling into an exaggerated, cocky smirk. “Ya’ know what I mean, right? It’s kinda like a cake, but it’s small, like a cookie. It’s French. No, it’s not that. Maybe on the next tray? What? I can’t hear ya’. It’s smaller. I can step around, see if–”

A familiar voice pipes up before Atsumu can move closer and Kiyoomi turns, ears instantly pricking up at the sound of your reply. “I said, I know what a madeline is, sir. I’m rearranging and organizing my cart at the moment and, if you’d like, you can order your drinks first. I’ll have the madeline waiting for you on the other side of the bar.”

“Lemme just see one,” Atsumu grins, resting his hands against the glass. Kiyoomi’s lips curl at the sight, watching Atsumu’s hands leave lingering prints behind. Great, now they’ll need to clean and re-polish the display. Besides, you’d said you had them. Why keep pushing the issue? Ugh. If he wasn’t regretting his decision to show his fellow teammate the shop before, he certainly is now. 

“Just wanna make sure we’re on the same page, is all. Ya’ might give me something else by mistake and that’s a waste of time for both of us!” Atsumu’s smile broadens, a shadowed look falling over his angular features. 

You hop up from your crouched position, a wrapped package with bright blue lettering that clearly says [ French Vanilla Madeline ] on the side, clutched between your fingers. “Oh no, I get it,” you begin, mimicking Atsumu’s cheshire grin with startling accuracy. “You just want to double check! I mean, the words on the packaging do say: Madeline. So unless you mean something else, something that’s not called ‘A French vanilla madeline, made with real vanilla extract and buttery goodness,’ I think we’ve got you covered.”

Your voice is saccharine sweet, lilting over the words, a well-practiced smile lifting your lips. You’re still clearly mirroring the one Atsumu is giving you. It’s the snappiest your tone has ever been, and the fact that it’s being used against his annoying teammate is priceless. Suddenly, he can’t help the laugh that’s already snickering its way past his mask. 

“Oi!” Atsumu cries, pushing himself off the case at last, his teeth gritted at Kiyoomi’s obvious amusement. “I just wanted to check! And you, manager lady, don’t be so mean!”

“Pfft, manager lady? It’s (Y/N). And me? Mean? I was not mean, I told you that we had them! I just needed to FIFO some of the other pastries first,” you defend, a surprised exhale falling from your lips. 

“FIFO? What is that? Don’t use that food jargon on me! I get that enough from my brother. He does that crap all the time, like it’s some sorta secret lingo. ‘Don’t do that ‘Tsumu, gotta make sure it’s in date’. ‘Don’t come on the line!’ ‘Gotta wear a hat or a hair net if yer’ gonna be back here!’ ‘Don’t mislabel the rice!’ On and on. What’s with you food people? So uptight. Look, I just wanted to try one. Yer’ reviews said they were good! Here, tell you what, give me two. Don’t laugh! Omi, help! She’s picking on me!”

“Stop it, you’re making a scene. Any other inane questions? Or anything else you’d like to order, because I’m certainly not buying any of this for you,” Kiyoomi replies, sneaking a glance at your bemused expression. You catch his eye and give him a quick wink and he finds that his smile stays with him long after he, and a chastened and satiated Atsumu have left the warmth of the coffee shop.

“Mmm, these are pretty good,” Atsumu mumbles between bites of his madeline. “Ya’ want some?”

He stops by after his evening practice, when the sun has long since fallen past the horizon of the city, but as soon as he rounds the corner he regrets his decision.

The cafe is brimming with people. They’re everywhere; outside, they are clustered on the pavement, sitting on the collection of iron wrought chairs, and gathered in groups. Inside, most are sprawled close to the hand off plane, or draped over the couches and tables. They appear to be animated, with computer screens and voices bright, too bright. His usual spot is taken, and he’s already made up his mind to keep walking on but somehow, somehow, he catches your eye. 

His feet are slowing, a stuttering breath stagnating in his lungs, all at once hopeful and bewildered, but before he can examine his fluttering emotions, you’re alongside him on the noisy sidewalk, passing him his usual evening drink [ a doppio con panna with bitter lungo shots, poured affogato ] a pleased smile on your soft lips. 

Suddenly, the world smells like velvety pine and heady bergamot, and he can’t stop staring down at you. 

“Hey! Glad I could catch you. Wanted to tell you good luck on your upcoming game! I think I saw on the news that it’s tomorrow? Right?”

“Yes, we’re playing Azuma Pharmacy. They have a good starting lineup. It’s entirely possible that we’ll lose.”

“Jeez,” you exhale, cocking your head at his serious expression. “Kind of a pessimist, aren’t you?”

“I’m a realist. I’m perfectly prepared to beat them, but things always play out differently on the court, no matter what your personal expectations are.” 

You give him another smile. This one comes quickly, and it’s bigger than any of the others, the pull of it lighting up your face. It’s different, and he can tell that the way you’re looking at him has shifted; that you’ve liked this answer. He’s not sure why, it’s the truth. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Good point. Well, win or lose, you’ve got my luck! I better get back inside. Your drink is on me by the way, for the other day…when I touched your hand…well, I’m sure you remember. Anyway, see you, Sakusa!”

He watches you slip past the packed lines of students, already rolling up your sleeves so you can wash your hands. Once you’re behind the espresso machine you’re hidden by the burnished copper and he walks on, shouldering his MSBY bag higher, lifting his coffee to his lips. It’s got a rich flavor, well balanced and expertly poured. Once again, he’s reminded that you’re good at what you do and, despite the balmy heat of early spring, that makes his fingers tingle and his skin break out in gooseflesh.

Later, when he’s falling asleep, he keeps seeing your eyes. Watching as your colored irises come alive in the moonlight, hopeful, shining, and wholly focused on him.

At practice, Atsumu insists on completing his post workout stretching next to him. He’s used to Kiyoomi’s sullen silences and barbed retorts, content to chatter however he pleases, flitting from topic to topic as he eases into his cool down routine. 

“I need to go back to that coffee shop. Ya’ been back lately?”

“No,” Kiyoomi lies, brushing a stubborn wave of curls out of his sweaty face. 

“Too bad. Maybe after Friday’s practice? That girl really knew her stuff. Made some great coffee, too. What was her name? Ah, that’s right, (Y/N). She’s cute, what’s her story?” 

Something twinges against Kiyoomi’s rib cage at the word ‘cute.’ Hmm, that’s not normal. He flips to his left side, facing away from Atsumu’s greedy eyes and leering smiles. 

“How long has she worked there?”

“Not sure,” Kiyoomi replies, flattening his palm against the cool flooring of the gym. “At least a year, maybe more.”

“That other barista said she was a manager. She’s not one of the owners, is she?”

“Dunno.”

“Is she a student? Kinda strange to see an American working in Japan, and she’s definitely an American. She’s good with the Japanese, but her accent is off.”

“Your accent is off, so I’m not sure what your point is. I can understand her, and I can’t say the same for you.”

“Jackass!” Atsumu snaps, flopping up from his splayed stretch to butterfly his muscled legs. “It’s called a regional accent, and it’s perfectly normal. Ya’ got one too, city boy!”

“See? No one says things like that. You sound like a cartoon character. Sometimes I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Yer’ full of it!”

“Hmph,” Kiyoomi hums, curling himself onto his haunches and flattening the tops of his hands against the floor. The satisfying crunch of his wrists as his fingers settle makes Atsumu visibly shudder and Kiyoomi flashes him a quick smirk of his own, hoping it will spook his stretching companion enough that he’ll leave him be. He prefers to do his cool down in silence. 

“She do anything else? Other than diligently slaving over yer’ coffee, that is?”

Tch. It seems that luck isn’t with him today. “She said she’s a graduate student.”

“Oooh, what’s she studyin’?”

“Not sure.”

“Yer’ about as fun to talk to as a stack of bricks, ya’ know? Bet if I’d asked you what her name was the other day all you’d say was, ‘I use’ta just call her barista: first name: cute, last name: girl.”

Kiyoomi doesn’t reply. Something about these questions is bothering him. He doesn’t like that he can’t answer them properly– it’s frustrating, really. All he can honestly tell Atsumu is that you’re neat and efficient, that you have a smile that he can’t quite shake out of his head, a perfume that he wishes he could place, and that, to date, you’ve given him one free coffee. The fact that he knows that you’re a graduate student is sheer luck, information that you’d happened to share with him, not that he’d asked you about. He uncoils his hands and flips them over, letting his eyes rest against his reddened palms. Oh, and you’d touched his wrist once and the sheer metaphysical weight of that contact had nearly sent him stumbling backwards. 

It’s stupid; he’s stupid. 

It’s not hard to talk with people. It’s just…he knows he’s not good at it. Besides, when would he practice? He’s surrounded by extroverts; extreme extroverts. Extroverts who defy all sense and who usually can’t be silenced unless they’re tucked into a deep sleep, and even then it’s doubtful. Both Hinata and Bokuto have demonstrated that they can, and will, talk in their sleep. Still, it’s frustrating to find himself boxed into a corner, completely at a loss and unaware of the most cursory, mundane, simple, facts about you. For almost two years, he’s seen you at least twice a week, shouldn’t he know more? Why doesn’t he know more?

“Why not give her a ticket to a game?”

Atsumu’s question makes him lift his head, abandoning his musings as he lets the weight of that suggestion sink in. The setter is crinkling his eyes at him now, that all knowing smirk back on his lips, umber eyes hooded, mischievous. “The front office can do that, ya’ know? We’ve got extras. They keep em’ for that purpose. Just say she’s a special guest, or a potential sponsor. They ain’t gonna question you.” 

Kiyoomi looks away, crossing his legs and leaning to his right side, feigning disinterest as Atsumu tells him who he can speak with, where he can see the upcoming calendar, and what seats might be open. It’s a good idea, a great idea, and he can’t help but loathe that Atsumu thought of it first.

The ticket is good for a first row balcony seat.

It’s situated in the best spot. He’d picked it out himself, carefully looking over the colored diagram of the stadium and belaboring the proximity of the sight-lines, wanting to let you have a bird’s eye view of the court. Where would he like to sit, if he could watch a game? What works? What doesn’t? Too high and you can’t catch the movement of the ball. Too low and you can’t see the players. Too far to the right or left and you can’t see the breadth of the court. It’s tricky, and he’s cautious with his selection. He can’t help it. 

Kiyoomi only considers you not even liking the sport when he’s placing his order, watching as you carefully tuck his empty cup down on the polished steel of the bar. Shit.

The cafe is quiet. The students are gone, and when the register barista goes to the backroom it’s only him and you in the well lit space. The click of the burr grinder almost makes him jump, and he compromises with his nerves by shifting toward his usual table, resting his bag in the chair and taking in a deep breath. 

The gentle press of the tamp is audible over the low beats of the music and he hears you knock the side of the portafilter, no doubt leveling off the crushed arabica before you hook the device under the grouphead. Seconds later he sees you flip the switch for his shots, already grooming his heated, foaming, oat milk in the short pitcher, popping the liquid free of any errant bubbles. You’re gentle with this part, and he’s always loved to watch you pour his cortado, liking the raise of your arm and the flick of your wrist as you let the creamy milk flow into the paper cup, swirling a rosetta design through the ochre of the waiting espresso. 

Usually, this well-oiled process of yours calms him, but today he feels fidgety and his head is buzzing. The sooner you finish the drink, the sooner he’ll have to talk to you. Shit, shit. When you move the dark lids forward, his hand feels like it’s heating around the slick paper of the ticket, making it clammy and tacky. He bites his lip and removes his hand from his jacket, wiping his palm against his dark jeans. 

You’re already looking up at him, nodding toward the fragrant cup that’s waiting at the edge of the handoff plane. Automatically, he lurches forward, completely in-sync with his familiar routine. The question [ would you like a ticket to one of my games? ] is resting on the tip of his tongue and his fingers are hovering beside his cup. He can see that they’re shaking and that sight doesn’t ease him. Then you ask him something and he feels everything skitter to a halt. Why is this happening? It’s just a ticket, it’s just a game. 

Wait. You asked him something? 

He does his best to ignore the humming of anxious tension that’s filtering down his fingertips and lifts his bowed head. “What?” he mumbles, lips unsticking at last.

“Just asked how your game went the other day. I tried to record it but my stupid cable box isn’t working. I need to try and see you guys, I know I’ve probably said that before, but it’s pretty pathetic of me to not catch one game when the stadium is only two miles away. Plus, I know y’all are a great team! Heard you made the playoffs last year, that’s so awesome!”

It’s a perfect segway. 

But he feels like he’s rooted to the spot, like his tongue is trapped against the roof of his mouth, and his hands are too heavy to move, content to shake beside his cooling drink as he whittles his time away, too filled with the what if’s to do anything about the here and now. He’s going down a mental checklist, mulling over each possibility, cautiously tampering with that heady rush of excitement that’s threatening to bubble out of his masked lips. Shit. 

He’s gotta check his vitamin intake, maybe he’s low on omega 3s? The team has a general practitioner on standby. He really should call him after this, maybe run by his office before the next practice. 

Something’s off with him.

Wait, that worked. 

That shift in his whirring thoughts broke him out of that suspended state and then, before he completely fucks this up, the ticket is down against the counter and he’s muttering something about unlimited uses, that if you can’t make it now, then you can always switch the date, or add someone on, if you have a [ boy ] friend you want to take; the next game works best with the seat that’s listed, he’s checked. He knows it’s open. Again, zero pressure and no worries if you can’t make it. See you around.

You might have responded, you might have smiled, fuck, you might have laughed at him. He’s not sure.

All he knows is that as soon as he is out of the shop he’s calling the team’s gp and confirming an appointment for tomorrow morning. It’s not natural for his heart to stutter and thump like that. It could be an arrhythmia. 

It could be any number of things. 

He hasn’t felt this nervous about a game in years. Sure, it’s a good team, and they have four players that are of his generation, most of them powerful outside hitters that will probably give the Jackals a good run for their money, but they’re not insurmountable. They can beat VC Kanagawa; they’ll have to if they want to advance further in the lineup for the playoffs. 

It’s just…

He keeps looking for that seat. Your seat. He’d gotten to the stadium early; opting to forgo the first team meeting, saying he needed to practice his wall drills, work on his spin, but that’s not the real reason. The real reason is something that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. At least, not before a game. He steadies himself, reiterating that it’s not practical or helpful for him to worry about things like that. 

Nevertheless, he’s pinned the seat in his mind. He studied it as the lights shuddered on, the maintenance staff flashing him bewildered looks as he stepped into the empty brightness of the court. He’d found it again during the pre-game warmup, onyx eyes committing the location to memory, searching for the little details that he could watch for if he wanted to find it again, later, when the arena was packed with thousands of eyes and waving signs.

As they open the main doors and the seats fill up, he’s still looking at the seat.

“Whatcha looking at?” Hinata asks, his burst of orange hair already slicked with sweat, vivid eyes sharp. 

“Nothing.”

The results of Kiyoomi’s physical had shown no outliers, no cause for worry or concern. Everything was fine. He should just get a little extra potassium in, maybe eat a few more bananas in the morning, or after his practices. He’d been a little miffed when he opened the manilla folder, eyes hunting for abnormalities, for a reason, an explanation. If nothing is wrong, then why does he feel like he’s tingling with adrenaline all the time? It makes him light-headed, sluggish, and that’s detrimental to his playability, to his value to his team. 

He looks away from Hinata and paces past Atsumu’s arched eyebrow, ignoring the implications of that wicked grin that’s resting on the setter’s quirked lips. It’s fine; he’s fine. His eyes look up to the balcony again. He really shouldn’t be doing that, he reminds himself. It’s a distraction, and he doesn’t–

Oh. There you are.

He can’t make out details, not from this distance, and he suddenly feels self-conscious about his face. There’s no mask. He doesn’t wear it when he plays, and this will be the first time you’ve seen him without it. Suddenly, he wishes he hadn’t cared so much about the visibility of the court. Why did he plant you so far away? If he can’t see you, then there’s no way you’ll be able to tell which one he is either…oh…wait…his name is on the back of his jersey and they’ll announce his number. Nevermind. 

The referee calls for the teams to line up and he diligently follows his teammates, standing in his usual spot, ignoring the dull thump of his heart as it beats a ragged tattoo under his ribs. 

They won. 

They won, and he’d racked up a whopping 23 points for himself, a personal milestone. It’ll be something that will go down on his athletic record, that the local and national news reports will chatter about, that he can feel proud of. He’s glad; you always show him your best, so it’s only fair he does the same for you too.

He’d peeked up at your seat during each time out, each break, every time the momentum shifted, and before he hit every serve. You looked like you had your feet propped up, resting against the metal barrier of the balcony, and he could see that your arms were wrapped around your knees. You were paying attention, and that knowledge made his lungs swell and his pulse quicken. 

Now, after he’s finished toweling some of the clinging sweat from his brow and the matted droop of his obsidian curls, he twists back, facing your seat, but you’re not there. An empty curve of plastic greets him and his heavy brows furrow, his fingers dropping the towel onto the bench as they curl up into his palms. 

Did you leave? It would make sense, he supposes. The game is over. He just thought you might come down. Might want to talk. Not that he’d have much to say. He never does. Stupid; what would he talk with you about? See the game? Yeah, duh. 

The distant voice of MSBY’s public relations manager is calling for him. He’ll worry about it [ you ] later, he thinks, he’s still got a job to do.

During his interview he can hear Atsumu’s voice. It’s annoying. While the setter doesn’t attempt to tone himself down, he rarely talks that loudly. Kiyoomi glances over at his straight back, watching as his hand cups against the back of his golden head, an infectious laugh bursting from his turned lips. Strange. It’s not like him to chat with someone for that long, not when he’s got his own post-game interviews to conduct. He usually– 

Ah, it’s you. 

Suddenly, questions like: [ how does it feel to be considered for the 2025 Japanese Olympic team? ] don’t matter. His head is half cocked now, dark eyes following the two of you, his comments to the national reporter falling into clipped monosyllables. This is unprofessional; he should focus on the matter at hand, it’s not like him to be distracted. 

He’s been thinking about that a lot lately. That so many things are suddenly not like him. 

When you push playfully at Atsumu’s shoulder, he lapses into a stormy silence, nails biting into his clenched palms, pressing half moons into his calloused skin. After answering one more question: [ something about his future plans - how’s he supposed to know? That depends on trades, on opportunities. And right now he’s not in the correct frame of mind to answer honestly, not when he can see that you’re right there ] he bows to the smiling face of the reporter, formally concluding his participation in the interview. He knows it’s abrupt; he knows he’ll likely get an earful from the MSBY PR director, from his coach, and from himself, when the full weight of his uncharacteristic rashness hits him, but right now he doesn’t care.

His feet feel like lead and the steps that he’s taking shudder against the gym’s polished flooring. He’s usually smoother than this, more collected, but can’t will himself to stop lurching forward. He tucks his hands into the darkness of his team jacket, coiling his numb fingers into tight balls, and hunches his shoulders. He likely looks like thunder and this suspicion is confirmed when a ball boy scuttles out of his path, eyes wide, but Kiyoomi doesn’t care. 

Atsumu hasn’t noticed his approach, but you do, and that shy wave and familiar smile makes his breath catch in his throat. Damn it. What’s going on with him? 

Atsumu notices your wandering attention and turns, following your gaze. Once he spots Kiyoomi, he gives him a cheeky smirk, dipping his chin, lazily fixing his amber eyes on Kiyoomi’s arched figure. “Look who caaame!” he calls, lacing his tone with poorly concealed glee. “She said you gave her a ticket. What a great, absolutely original, idea! And you had your record breaking scoring streak today too! Hey! Maybe she’s good luck! Watch out (Y/N), pretty soon we’ll be hooking you up with a personal mascot job if ya’ can light such a fire under our stoic hitter’s ass. Must be something special in that coffee yer’ serving him.”

Kiyoomi narrows his eyes at Atsumu’s blatant needling and the setter chuckles, flipping his focus back to you, sensing the rising agitation that is rolling off of Kiyoomi in waves now. “Well, sure was good to see ya’ again! Talk to me next time, huh? I’ll get you a boxed seat. It’s much better than those nosebleeds in the balconies.”

You shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips, and make a show of rolling your eyes. “Flattery doesn’t suit you, you know? And what boxed seats? Feels like I’d see them if you had them,” you tease, earning yourself a last laugh and Atsumu’s back, a friendly hand waving a last goodbye as he finally strides toward the waiting cameras. Kiyoomi watches him go, his shoulders tense, a feeling of unease settling in his gut. Is Atsumu doing this on purpose? 

He almost snaps a retort at his retreating figure, but the sound of your voice immediately snatches his attention toward you. His dark gaze meets yours and the look in your eyes makes his palms feel itchy and his feet scuff mindlessly against the floor.

“This is gonna sound so dumb, but it’s been on my mind since I got here…”

Kiyoomi’s fingers twist in his pockets, coiling over each digit, and his pulse feels like it’s speeding up again. “What?”

“It’s just…well, you look so much younger without the mask,” you let out a small laugh and duck your head, teeth pulling at your lower lip as you face away from his widening eyes. 

“Is that bad?”

“No! You look good! Uh, I mean, not that you didn’t…I just wasn’t sure…not that I’d thought about it…a lot…uh, I…yeah, I’m…No, it’s not bad!” You press your hands against your mouth, steepling your fingers under your nose and fix him with a sheepish grin. “Anyway, I know you’ve got things to do, but Miya was right about one thing, you had a great game. I had a lot of fun and it was so nice of you to get me that ticket, and well…”

You pause, lowering your hands to yank your purse forward, fingers digging into the leather before you right yourself once more, returning with a small, zipped bag, and a plastic card that’s balancing atop the metal teeth. “It’s a…well…I sorta tried to think of some things that you might like. To say thanks! It’s nothing fancy. A nail filing kit, because I read that volleyball guys like to keep their hands in tiptop shape, one of those portable ball pumps and some masks. 

The masks are from a great company, back home, er, in the states. Well, at least I like them, they’re super durable. And the card, uh, ha, um, the card is to the cafe. I know it’s not super original, but I didn’t know if you liked any other places. And I didn’t wanna assume or — Haha, oh God, I am talking your ear off. Just…here! Take this from me so I can get my foot outta my mouth, okay?”

You press the bag forward and before he can tell you he doesn’t accept gifts from fans, his hands are already out of the safety of his pockets, firmly wrapping around your offering. “Thank you,” he bows. He wants to say more, but he’s not sure how.

He didn’t mean to come by the cafe. 

He thought he’d go for a quick run before practice, maybe loop the block, or jog toward the university. None of these things are close to the cafe, but apparently his feet had other ideas. The shop bell rings when he steps inside, wiping some hand sanitizer against his heated palms, onyx eyes alert, already searching for you. 

A male barista [ is it Kane? ] greets him and before he can stop himself, he’s asking if you’re there. “Oh, (Y/N)? Nah, she’s off today. But I can make your cortado, you get almond milk, right?”

“Oat,” Kiyoomi replies, voice muffled by his mask. Damn. Why did he come here? He didn’t mean to and now it’s looking like it was a wasted trip. A useless instinct. He’d wanted to thank you properly for your gift, which had been on his mind a lot the past few days. Perhaps that’s why he felt so compelled to jog the extra mile, why he can’t seem to keep away, why he keeps looking for you as he waits, even though he knows you’re not here. 

Maybe he can text you his thanks. That would make all of this easier. Oh, wait, does he even have your number? He pulls his phone out of his pocket and examines his contact list, searching for you. No, nothing under your name. Maybe he put it under something else? [ barista? cafe? ] Again, there’s nothing. Damn. Why didn’t he ask at the game? Or when he gave you the ticket?

When he picks up his drink and paces back into the sunshine, he’s still kicking himself that he hasn’t asked for your number yet. It would have made things so much simpler, he reasons, sipping at his coffee; now he’ll have to come back. 

But days pass, and he hasn’t returned. 

There’s just too much going on. Too many team meetings and late practices. Too much preparation. The pace of his schedule has never bothered him before, but now he keeps hoping for some kind of reprieve. 

The other morning Atsumu strode into a meeting with a cup from your cafe, proudly flaunting the familiar label. It made Kiyoomi’s blood boil [ did he see you? talk with you? Did he get to see that addictively pleasing smile of yours? ] and later that afternoon he experienced his first scolding. 

“What’s going on, Omi? Five missed digs? This isn’t like you. You look like your head is in the clouds. Come on, get it together. Big game in five days.”

“Sorry, won’t happen again.” It’s all he can say. 

When he’s heading toward the team showers, he catches sight of Atsumu’s knowing leer and he grits his teeth, ignoring the huffed snicker and scoffing head shake that the setter sends his way. 

Finally, two days later, he’s got some free time. There are other errands he needs to run, things he should do, but the only thing he can think about is you. 

He’s walking up from a side street, one he rarely takes, when, at long last, he catches sight of you. You must be on a break. You’re sitting at a bench, facing a small, but well laid flower bed, flipping the pages of your open book languidly as you read under the cool shade of a gnarled tree. 

He’s glad he’s wearing the mask that you gifted him. 

You’d said that they were durable, and their quality had genuinely impressed him. When he got home, after the game, he slipped them out of their individual plastic cases, fingering the thick, well made materials before washing one. He’d left the others in their containers. He’ll use them, eventually, but not right now. He wants to savor them. He wants them to last.  

Kiyoomi is almost to your side when you look up and he bites against his lower lip as soon as you give him that friendly smile of yours, already closing your book and standing, waiting for him to step closer. He comes to a stop in front of you, peering down at you through his dark lashes. 

You always smell so nice, he thinks, unconsciously shifting closer, seeking more. You must have showered before coming into your shift because the crisp scent of peppermint and gentle lavender makes his nostrils flare hungrily under his mask. 

“Hey there!” you begin, tucking your book into your arms. “Long time no see. How have you been?”

“Fine. I have practice later. I came by the other day. I…” he lapses into frustrated silence, dark brows falling, letting his hands grip at the material of his jacket. Why is this so hard? You, all the others on his team, Motoya [ hell, even the notoriously impassive Wakatoshi has come out of his shell over the years ] can slip into a conversation. Damn it, how can everyone else make this look so easy? 

“Saw you’re playing the Adlers soon. They’re the team the Jackals have a sorta rivalry with, right?”

He blinks down at you and lets out a shallow exhale. There you go again. You’re giving him a life raft, a conversation he can fall into, something he enjoys talking about. He remembers his stilted conversation with Atsumu, the one where he did not know about any of the basic things, the obvious things, the things that made you, you. It’s nice that you’re looking out for him, that you’re helping him along, but he doesn’t want to talk about volleyball, not right now.

“We do. How did your finals go? You said you had a dissertation?”

“Oh!” you blurt, your eyes widening, but you’re clearly pleased, even a little excited that he’s asked. “You remembered! Finished it up last week. Now I just need to knock out my revisions and I’ll either go back to committee, or they’ll approve it! I’m hoping they approve it. I’m sick of looking at it, haha.” Your fingers tap against your book and you duck your head, a quick smile passing over your smooth lips. “Uh, did you want to come in for a coffee? Not trying to hold you up, if you’ve got practice to go to.”

“I was the one who came over.” He sounds a little harsh, he thinks, nose wrinkling under his mask. He’s never worried about being blunt, but that doesn’t work here. He doesn’t want to be, not with you. “I mean, I wanted…wanted to say thanks, for the masks and the other things. I like them.” He points to his covered face and you let out a chuckle, gleaming eyes crinkling as you look up at him. Damn, you’re pretty. How has he not noticed that before? He wants to see you laugh again, he’s just not sure how to go about it. Does he even know any jokes? Shit.

“Awe, I’m glad you like them! Speaking of, Atsumu came by a few days ago, I guess you must have worn one around him because he was trying to sniff out if I’d given them to you. He’s a funny guy, but I cannot get a good read on him. It’s almost like he’s doing stuff on purpose, but he’s never blatantly obvious about it. The way he was talking, I was kinda worried he was trying to play a prank on you. Does he like to get under your skin or something? He’s–”

Kiyoomi’s not thinking when he leans down. He’s been doing that a lot lately, not thinking. It makes his skin prickle. Or is that the smell of peppermint on your clean neck, the fragrant lavender in your hair? The kiss is soft; more of a press of his lips than a real caress. But it’s nice, and he actually likes being this close to you, but something feels off and, ah, damn it. 

His dark brows knit together, furrowing his forehead, when he realizes what he’s done. He didn’t take off his mask. How stupid. But that shaky gasp of air that you let out when he pulls away, and the following upward lift of your body, your lips chasing his, clearly wanting him to come back, oh that’s so worth it, mask or not.

Your eyes are the first thing he sees when he looks back down, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so perfect. They’re bright, vibrant, and rich with an excitement that makes his toes curl. 

The smell of lavender and peppermint, of you, is almost overwhelming, and yet somehow it’s all together, not enough. He doesn’t say anything and neither do you. 

What is there to say? 

That one, half-formed, touch said it all. It expressed every frustration that he’s felt over the last few weeks, every faded memory of your voice, of your playful smiles, of those hesitant conversations you’ve helped him through. It’s all there, sitting quietly between the two of you, shimmering in the sunlight as you take a step closer and his hands finally fall out of his pockets, waiting, hoping for yours. 

“(Y/N)! Break’s over! Coffee’s not gonna brew itself!” 

The distant voice of your coworker shatters the euphoria and you tense, pulling away, your head turning toward the barked command as you call out your reply. Kiyoomi huffs out an impatient breath. He wanted to try that again. Do it right this time. How pathetic is he? Kissing you through a mask? But his annoyance dies when you face him again, slipping your hand tentatively into his. 

His digits fall limply around yours and he can’t help but marvel at the softness of you. One of his thumbs lifts and he traces the skin along your knuckles, unsure if he’s even breathing anymore. “Come on,” you say, looking down at his touch before lacing your fingers through his, showing him how to hold you. “I’ll make your coffee.” 

You’re walking forward and he has the inane urge to snatch you back, wanting to see how the rest of you feels, wanting to know how you’ll fit into his arms, but he distracts himself by following you. There’s a budding warmth that’s spreading from his palm, where your hand rests inside his, to his chest. It feels like a low burning fire is coursing along his veins and his heartbeat thuds out of rhythm, but for once he doesn’t care. 

In fact, he thinks he likes it.

He sits in the cafe for too long, his coffee cold, the cup almost empty. But before he leaves [ already so, so late for practice ] he gets your number. 

He taps the unfamiliar digits carefully into his device and you watch from the counter, your chin propped in your hand, a gentle smile kissing against your palm. Then he stands, pausing beside you and you run your index finger down his arm, lingering your touch beside his wrist, making him shiver in the warm sunlight, a pleased grin hidden behind his mask.

notes: this man has what, 10 pages of interaction? idk why and idk how, but he is stuck in my brain - like, seriously send help, i think i’m in love. 

[noritoshiikamo]

game over

pairing: noritoshi kamo + fem!oc genre: angst tags//warning: established relationship, wild gojo appeared // blood, character death, emotion distress, mention of shibuya  note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. note that i put descriptions of the characters i write so it would be easier for me, you’re free to imagine the character the way you seem fits! okay listen imma be honest i dont like this part that much dhhdbdjksncjddiem and im sorry if it sucks bcs istg i cant compete to part 1 and 2 of it so IM SORRY tagging @unabashednightmarepizza @sassyeahhhh @dok-ja @sukirichi [bold means i cant tag u idky :( lemme know if wanna be tagged in the next part] read the first part | second part | third part | bonus

few years ago;

“you’re fucking ridiculous!”

“you’re injured, how the fuck is it me that’s being unreasonable?”

she contemplated stabbing him straight to his chest. “i’m fine, leave me alone,” she hissed, holding on to her arm as she tried to limp away. second year jujutsu student noritoshi kamo wondered how the hell one could be this stubborn. with blood caked up on the side of her face, lips busted and bruising in the corner, not to mention the broken arm and probably twisted ankle, he could not understand how one could be this reckless and stupid, it’s almost ridiculous.

but here she is standing in front of him.

“you could’ve let me handle it,” he said, coldly.

she never turned that fast in her life; her limping leg suddenly worked fine as she hauled her ass, throwing both fists to his chest. the force put was enough to threw him back a few steps, he caught her wrists holding her from falling down. “stop acting like i’m so fragile. i can exorcist the curse just fine. you make me hate you so much,” she spitted, pure rage etched on her face, “just because i’m a girl, because i’m your girl, i’m weak. please, i am as good as you are, kamo.”

their faces were so close, he could count the freckles spread on her nose and cheeks. he loves her eyes the very first time he caught glimpse of it; one is a dull brown while the other looks like it carries the secret of the bright blue sea. this time, the eyes he loves looked hopeless, lack of the burning spirit she carried with tears threatening to spill. letting go of a wrist, his trembling hand brushed the hair coated with the blood back, carefully not to hurt her. “i never said you are bad,” he clarified, fingers busy brushing the hair back. his sudden reaction surprised her, and her body betrayed her thoughts as she eased in his arms.

he tilted her chin, his head was panicking as he realised that his brain was no longer controlling his movement as he leaned down and kissed her.

she tasted like blood.

she winced, pain aching on the swollen part and he apologized so quietly as he deepened the kiss. “nori-” her voice croaked as she swallowed his moans. he hummed, satisfied by the kiss. their foreheads rest against each other, the tip of their noses touched as they struggled to catch breath.

“stop being stupid. let me help you okay?”

“okay.”

slipping his arm under hers, he helped her walk, leading them out of the abandoned building they managed to exorcist. nothing major, a couple of pestering level three and four curses that them both handled well but their supervisor missed to tell them about the hiding level two curse that took them by surprise. she had become the curse’s main target.

if she would’ve just listened to him and stay close. he sighed.

“ouch, ouch,” she cried, clutching on her left leg, forcing him to stop. impatient, he slipped his hand under her knees, lifting her up in his arms. she apologized profusely, embarrassed to be such a burden to him. he brushed it off immediately.

“did you call them? told them that we are done?”

she gasped, “wait, i thought they’ll wait for us.”

he huffed, “you’re not that important, y/n. give them a call, please. i want to go home.”

kicking the door open, the moonlight shone on them as he carried her down to the bottom stairs. settling her down on the steps, he sat beside her, letting a long sigh. he watched as she took the call, letting them know that she was slightly injured, and they need to go back asap. she was visibly tired, and he was the same too.

he couldn’t help but to sigh at the way the moonlight enveloped her. he had loved her from the very first moment he caught his eyes on her; she caught him staring, called him out publicly and ignored all his advances. it took him a lot to court her. she’s a gojo, she can have anything and everything with the sky is the limit.

but one thing money could never buy is affection.

it started with little stuffs; noritoshi waiting for her with her lunch readied every day. it annoyed her but momo (who was secretly rooting for him) forced her to just do it. “it’s just a lunch,” momo said sheepishly. noritoshi would have them paired all the time for the missions. she’d accepted it with open heart. noritoshi would also teach her how to weld a bow and shoot arrows. she promised that she would go out on date with him if he taught her.

by the end of their first year, they became inseparable.

the idea of being apart from her hurts him physically and mentally. she took a sharp breath when he laced his fingers between her own, quickly telling the other person on the phone that she was okay. “it was just noritoshi,” she replied with a small laugh. their hands fit each other; his skin contrasted her slightly tanned skin. while his hands were rough from welding the bow and he kept his nail short and clean, hers were slightly softer with her nails painted prettily. this month she had her nails painted in pastel. all the girls’ day out with momo and mai had proven its importance. he was happy to provide her with his black card despite her discontent.

“analysing my hands now?”

he smiled slightly, “it looks very pretty. i guess i got my money worth. are they coming?”

she leaned on his shoulder, his own wrapped around her as she closed her eyes, “they are around the corner. i would definitely need another round this week,” she teased. kissing her forehead gently, he didn’t mind that his uniform was stained with her blood; he was glad that she’s safe.

“i’ll happily take you there.”

few years later;

noritoshi kamo almost lost his mind. the stadium was half destroyed, huge craters on the pitch with the sight of his wife nowhere to be found. he looked up to the black pitch curtain encasing the stadium area from the sky, a curse escaped his lips.

“where the fuck are you?” he grunted, scanning the area.

she is gone, his stubborn little wife. she could’ve just wait but annoyed that their dinner date was interrupted and eager because this was their first mission together as a married couple; she escaped his supervision. as they were dealing with minor curses outside, she decided to head on forward, leaving him to deal with whatever is left. he beat himself inside for letting her come, he could easily do this himself and send her home safely, but she blinked her eyes and he was weak. she always has her way with him.

his step stopped when he realised there was a shadow ahead.

“she’s pretty,” the thing said.

his blood ran cold, “what did you do to my wife?”

the curse let out a laugh. it was sinister enough to send chills down his spine. especially when he realised the head it was stepping on was his wife. her eyes were fluttering back and forth, struggling to stay awake. a howl shocked him, shivers down his spine at the painful whimpers her shikigami making. cursed spirits were devouring it alive, overwhelming it and chewing every part of its body. his wife was too weak to dispel the shikigami; it’s dangerous as the devoured wolf shikigami will drain her cursed energy by a second.

all shikigami linked directly to the owner; everything inflected to the wolf, she could feel it too.

he needed a plan.

hidden in his wedding ring was a retractable knife. he rarely carries blood bags anymore as his power solidified itself. the older he got, the better he was at using and controlling a small steady flow of his own blood straight from the tap. with a clap of his hands, the knife cut his hand enough to send blood shooting like bullets. the blood hit the curses straight to its cores, died out instantly on impact, but the shikigami was beyond salvageable. it let out one last howl, one last goodbye before dropping to the ground, half of his snout gone. she will be devastated, it’s her only shikigami she managed to tame at such a young age, but at least it has stopped the shikigami from stripping his wife’s cursed energy to its core.

the fire burning in his eyes only made the curse laughed. he kicked her body away, spurting blood out of her mouth. she was halfway close to death’s doorstep.

“i will fucking murder you,” he hissed.

“my blood is my power. it’s supposed to rot human, stripping its meat from the bone like acid. however,” the curse nudged her body, “your wife didn’t. humour me, did your blood tainted hers? tell me, i’m curious how.”

“are you going to chit chat because i don’t have whole day.” his blood dripped on the pitch.

the curse grinned, shrugging his shoulder. he kneeled, running his bloody fingers on her cheeks leaving trails of flowers pattern that dissipated immediately, “i’m not here to fight. i’m here to serve a warning,” he looked up to the tensed sorcerer, “for gojo satoru. tell him, we’ll be waiting for him in shibuya.” noritoshi’s face scrunched in confusion.

“we have no business with the gojos.”

“but she is. she could change her name, married you, but it doesn’t erase the fact that she carried gojo’s blood in her vein. she’s the bridge to your two clans. i’m just killing two birds with one stone. ruin the kamo clan’s relationship with gojos and hurt gojo satoru. all thanks to her,” the curse turned his back on him, his laugh echoed as he walked away. the dark curtain disappeared slowly as the ground rumbled. a perfect chance for noritoshi to strike if it wasn’t because of the cursed spirit’s words gluing him to his spot, “oh, kamo, i believe a congratulation is overdue. let me know when’s the baby is due, i would love to drop by personally.”

the pillar holding on to the roof collapsed sending wave of dust all over the place. noritoshi covered his face, coughing as he sucked some in, removing his coat as a shield. the cursed spirit was no where to be found.

“the place is going to collapse! i’ll get the curse, you go get her!”

a voice echoed and he caught a glimpse of blond hair running past him and noritoshi didn’t think twice as he sprinted around the cracks and holes. who was that voice or who was the curse, he couldn’t give a single fuck, he just wants his wife back. he was shaking when he got to her, arms immediately scooped her up in his arms. her chest was raising slowly, blood dripping on the side of her lips as she struggled to exhale.

“you’re going to be okay,”

he told her, but he wasn’t sure if he will ever be.

-

“can you turn down the stupid light, it’s hurting my eyes.”

the voice laughed melodiously, the light moved to the other eye repeating the same thing.

“as you can see, she’s awake, slightly weak, but she should be okay.”

another voice interrupted, “are you sure?” she gasped, excited to hear a familiar voice. “nori?” she called out, unable to open her eyes, relying strictly to her hearing as she reached her shaky hands out for him. “her senses might be slightly off, just let her do it herself,” the woman’s voice noted, and she felt annoyed. how dare you underestimate me, her mind scoffed.

“my senses are fine. see?” she claimed as she held noritoshi’s hand up. he smiled, gently rubbing her hand with encouragement. “thanks, shoko, we are fine.”

“i’ll leave you be then. call me if you need anything.”

she listened to the clacking of shoko’s heels, followed by the door opening and slamming shut. she jumped, but he held her hand tighter, reassuring her that it’s alright. “so why can’t i see?” she asked, confident that they are alone now. she felt the bed sunk a little on the left side, “you were high on anesthesia, i’m surprise you could even move your jaw to speak.” she felt a finger brushed her hair aside, breath loomed on her face and she could feel her own face reddening up.

“are you going to kiss me or are you just going to tease me?” his heart swell up, despite her shaky voice almost made him laugh.

“do you trust me?” his hand cupped her cheek gently.

she nodded eagerly, “always.”

“good.”

his kiss hit her like a waft of fresh air. every kiss felt like a first kiss to her that she couldn’t help to react so eagerly to it. his tongue slipped through her defense, overwhelming her taste buds with such strong taste of iron. it didn’t stop her. she knew what he was doing from start. he peeked a little, didn’t stop a second from kissing her as he watched his blood marking appeared on her face. her hands went up around her neck pulling him closer and he obeyed, deepening the kiss.

heal; his mind commanded.

after a while, she pulled back, being the one to break apart from the kiss first, her chest raising up and down as she struggled to catch her breath. her eyes were wide open now, fluttering lazily as she leaned back on the propped-up pillow. he wiped the corner of his lips, eyes on her as he watched the open wound on her face and arms slowly closed leaving the fresh healed red marks behind. he relaxed when he heard a thank you coming from her, as she checked her healed arms.

“i’m disappointed with you,” he finally broke the silence.

“really?” she frowned. he always does this thing where he will immediately go into lecture mood every time she does something that pisses him off. it’s almost like a game to her as she waited for him to explode, “right now? not even going to wait until i’m discharged. this is a new record, toshi. like shoko said, i’m fine.” he shook his head, “it doesn’t make it right. you always disobeyed me. ignored my orders, going about with your goddamn big head, you could’ve been killed.”

she rolled her eyes, noritoshi is being noritoshi, what a drama queen, she mentally rolled her eyes, “but i’m not,” she pushed her hair back, twisting it easily into a simple loose knot, “i told you, i am not weak.”

“your shikigami was destroyed, your blood was poisoned, 70 percent was already circulating to every part of your vein, i had to beg for the higher up to help purify your blood,” her smile died down. this game no longer feels fun for her. noritoshi was really mad this time. “you think it’s fun and all game but game over, y/n. you need to stop doing this. if you can’t do it for me, do it for yourself.”

“leave me alone, nori, if you just going to nag, please i don’t want to hear it. i’m tired.”

it made him angry that she was taking his word lightly. running his hand in his messy hair, he felt like hauling his head to the wall.

“you don’t understand-”

she slammed her hand on the bed, interrupting his words, “no YOU don’t understand me, i’m tired of you babying me. i’m an adult, i am your wife, stop treating me like a fucking child! we have been married for months, but god you’re suffocating me.”

“i will when you stop endangering yourself. i will stop treating your like a child when you stop acting like one. you’re pregnant, for the love of god!” he threw his hand on the wall. the wall cracked from the force. “i’m what?” she felt the world stopped spinning. she was hundred percent sure that her ears and head were deceiving her. he removed his hand from the hole he made on the wall, his body shaking from the amount of anger building up.

“noritoshi, answer me! what do you mean- i’m not pregnant, i had my period this month.”

“you are,” he shrugged. he felt something hit him in the back; looking down he saw the fluffy white pillow sitting by his feet.

he pointed to the bedside table where a sonogram perched up against a tissue box. she was about to lose her mind. “this is not funny, if this is your mean way of fucking me up because i won’t listen to you then this is just fucking cruel.”

he marched towards him, his hand went down on his chin, forcing her eyes on him, “until you stop playing your stupid games, until you stop treating your life like it’s nothing, until you consider my feelings and my worries, as your husband is valid, i do not exist in your life,” tears fell down her cheeks, “like you, i’m tired too.

“nori i-“

he left her before she could say a word. she broke into sob; her chest was pounding so hard that the blood pressure monitor was beeping. the door burst opened but it was not the face she wanted to see. she was immediately hysterical. satoru managed to hold her wrist down before she ripped the tubes and needles off her arms. “no, no, i want nori. where is he!” she screamed as satoru held her down. “you need to calm down, it’s not good for the baby,” satoru cooed, but she was not having it. he turned to shoko, “her cursed energy is skyrocketing, she’s going hysterical, do something!”

“let me go!”

shoko held out a syringe, “hold her down.”

she screamed, thrashing so rough that she almost slipped out of the strongest sorcerer’s hands. she managed to get a needle out before she felt another sharp pain on her back. shoko pulled the empty needle out and they retreated away as she fell on her butt backward. she was reduced to a babbling mess, her eyes drooped as she struggled to fight the waves of sleepiness hitting her one after another.

“tell him i’m sorry,” she croaked out, before everything turned completely dark.

the blood pressure monitor returned back to normal.

three days later;

“are you still going to ignore her? it’s been 3 days.”

“she needs to learn her place.”

gojo satoru disagreed. he eyed the head of the clan, shaking his head before standing up. he thought he could convince noritoshi kamo to visit his wife, but the man was as stubborn as- huh, her.

“i think she have learned enough, she’s miserable. you’re miserable.”

the man glared at the blonde man child, raising the cup of tea up for a sip. the tea doesn’t taste as good as the way she made it. he left her for 3 days and he found himself struggling to do everything alone. 

he, noritoshi kamo, 23 years old and the head of the kamo family, could not make a cup of fucking tea.

she always said that the best way to make tea depends on how long you let it steep. “too early and you won’t get the right amount of flavour,” she explained, her back facing him as he watched from the counter as she loomed over the stove, “but if you steep it way too long you going to burn the tea leaves and it will make everything taste bitter.” she turned around, a huge smile on her face that made his heart skipped a beat.

he frowned; the tea tasted bitter.

“she’s pregnant, she’s supposed to be crazy. you are supposed to be the wise one. she is going to carry your child for 9 long months, i can’t explain to you how long that’s going to be but she is allowed to be crazy.”

he dropped the cup on the floor when gojo’s hand grabbed him by his collar, pulling him up from his chair.

“now please, see your goddamn wife before i deck you in the mouth.”

“i will.”

satisfied with his answer, gojo’s demeanor changed and he was again the man child they all know of him. noritoshi could no longer focus on the report in front of him; not when his mind is full of her and only her.

would she forgive him? he wasn’t sure.

but he would spend his lifetime making up to her and the baby if that’s necessary.

[hanniiesuckle17]

Blue Skies Chpt 3: The Mexican Standoff

A/n: I know the title is hella weird so imma just drop a definition for yall. Mexican standoff- a confrontation in which neither party stands any chance of victory. (also this is not edited so sorryyy) Tag List is open <3

Tag List: @woodiegochile @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert @hoes4hoseok @jeonqqin @geminirules @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00​ @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @konenichi​ @yangs-jeongin​ @binniebutter​ @orangegyu​ @little-precious-baby ​

Blue Skies TL: @etherealyoonghwa​ ​

Summary: Y/n and Hongjoong were only acquaintances in college. They were on the same dance team but never crossed paths until one day both took notice of the other. One magical night after a party resulted in Y/n leaving with a guilty and angry conscious and surprisingly a blue stick. Three years later, Hongjoong is a hit producer and Y/n is a successful single mom. What happens when their paths cross yet again?

☁

Hongjoong’s POV

The three of us walked down the street, hands shoved in out pockets. Yunho’s little brother had told him about this awesome bar he had been to the other night and now the six foot man was dragging both San and myself all the way to Sangsu-dong just to go to ‘The Tipsy Devil Pub’.

“You guys are so slow. Come one!” The giant bellowed, already several steps ahead of San and me.

The red neon sign glowed in the night. It was hard not to smile seeing the cheeky devil design illuminating the street below it. “This place better have amazing food.” San groaned as Yunho pushed open the door excitedly. A buzz of volume leaked out of the pub.

“It’s not like you’re going to eat it. You’re on a diet.” I said with a laugh.

“It could be my cheat day. You don’t control me.”

As we entered the establishment my ears were greeted with a familiar sound. The door shut behind me and I watched my two friends ahead take in the dimly lit and packed bar. From the speakers my song drifted over the heads of everyone in the room. 

Blue skies don’t stay when yours is the only smile in my mind

Lips on mine.

Legs entwined.

Little Miss Blue Skies will never see the sunrise.

Not with me.

Little Miss Blue Skies,

Come back to me.

Yunho smiled turning around to face me. His long finger point up as if gesturing to sound waves in the air. “Dude! They are playing Blue Skies!” I nodded, getting my own look around the bar. 

“You think if we are with him we can get free drinks?” San suggested, pushing to the back of the bar. A row of booths lined the wall, a maroon velvet covering the seats. 

“If you can afford that Chanel belt, you can afford your own martinis.”

“That’s offensive,” San paused, not bother to look back at me. “You know I drink Daiquiries.”

Yunho scoffed, sliding his long legs into the curved booth. “Like that’s any better.” I sat on the outside of the seat- my eyes scanning the crowded venue. My eyes fell on a certain figure sitting at the bar. 

He was a pretty lanky guy, but his features were soft and very attractive. One arm of his was wrapped around a young boy who couldn’t be much older than three. The boy sat in the stool next to the man, feet dangling over the edge. 

A nudge to my shoulder brought me back to the conversation which apparently had moved on without me. San tilted his head as if to ask what I was looking at. Not really knowing how to justify the fact I was looking at a three year old, I just pointed to the bar. 

“Who the fuck brings a child to a bar?” The handsome man scoffed, tossing a cashew into the air and catching it with his mouth. He grabbed another handful from the bowl on the table. Guess today was his cheat day.

Yunho followed where my gaze led and pouted his lips a little. “Oh- Gunho, told me about that. Apparently that’s one of the owner’s kid. Sometimes if they can’t find a sitter I guess one of their friends at the bar watches him.”

“So that’s his dad? The owner?” I asked, pointing to the good-looking man at the bar. 

My friend shook his head, stealing some nuts from San. “He said his mom runs the bar with her friend. I think she’s single.” He looked around all the moving bodies in the space before pointing to a woman behind the bar. She was turned away from us, but she gave off an aura that sent chills down my spine in a good way. 

“Single moms aren’t usually your type, hyung.” San laughed, flagging down a waitress to order some drinks. Tearing my eyes away from the girl’s back I turned to my friend, brows raised and questioning his teasing tone. 

“Hongjoong’s type are usually the ones who leave,” Yunho struggled to say without laughing. Seeing my glare he chose to sip on a glass of water. “I could have said you like psycotic bitches..... It’s really a toss up between the two.” 

I rolled my eyes, thanking the waitress and she handed us our drinks. After a few rounds of some random drink in a rocks glass (Never again was I going to let San order for me), I felt a tug on my sleeve. 

Thinking some drunk stranger just bumped into me I paid it no mind. Feeling a harder pull I turned, vision not quite keeping up with the speed of my body. Once my brain could decipher through the alcoholic daze I saw the little boy from before. 

“Hey, bud,” I put down my drink and saw that Yunho had a goofy smile on his face looking at the kid. Should have known the gentle giant liked kids. “Can I help you?” 

The toddler looked up at me with big curious eyes. “What’s your name?” The boy asked in choppy words. My brother had a daughter and she talked like that around this age. I smiled, leaning over to better speak with him.

“My name is Kim Hongjoong. What’s yours bud?”

The little boy smiled, revealing a toothy grin. “Mr. Kim you look like my daddy!” 

I blinked a couple times attempting to process what the young child just declared. The other two men with me froze as well. “Hyung- is there something you need to tell us?” San stuttered, looking from the boy to me. 

“I-I... I don’t think so....I haven’t had a girlfriend since.....”

“Blue Skies- we know.” Yunho interrupted. “Maybe you just look like the guy?”

I nodded, trying to convince myself that Yunho’s suggestion was probably the most likely one. There was probably a ninety percent chance I looked like the kid’s father. Wetting my now dry lips I said, “H-how do you know? Where’s your dad?”

The boy shrugged, completely oblivious to the panic on my face as most kids would be. “My daddy isn’t here, but my mommy showed me a picture of them together.” He stumbled over some of the bigger words and if I wasn’t freaking the fuck out I would have found it cute. “My daddy had dark hair though,” The boy smiled, pointing to my fading blue locks. 

Pushing past the lump growing in my throat I asked the question burning in the back of my slightly inebriated mind. “Where’s your mom?” 

Fully turning around, the little boy pointed to behind the bar where not only the man from before was staring at me, but also a familiar set of E/c eyes. Staring back at me was a face I thought I would never see again. A face I thought I lost. A face that left. 

Y/n. 

She looked just as beautiful if not more than when I remembered her. Unable to stop myself, I stood up trying to see her better from across the crowded room. “Hyung... is that?” Yunho asked, probably not wanting to say her name just in case. 

“Yeah.....that’s her.”

Before I could say anything else or turn back to the boy, a woman sprinted across the bar and scooped up the kid. As she was running towards the bar, the toddler waved at me with a clueless and happy grin. Even if I hadn’t just drank three...whatever San ordered...I don’t think I would have been able to process what happened in those next few seconds. The woman shouted something to Y/n, who nodded not even batting an eye as the in my eyes, kidnapper, rushed out the door with a man who challenged even Yunho’s height. 

Shaking myself out of shock, I pushed through the rowdy mass of intoxicated young people, Yunho and San following me. I never took my eyes off of Y/n, not even when she yelled something to a man coming out the kitchen and bolted towards the exit. 

The second she got to the door I switched directions only to be stopped by the handsome man from the bar and the guy who basically Naruto ran out of the kitchen. 

“Hey! Big fan! I’m Wooyoung,” Naruto said, introducing himself all while keeping me from following Y/n. “I’m one of the owners and I just want to say how honored I am you came tonight. Can I get you a drink?”

“No. I just need to talk to that girl.” 

“Sorry, dude. That’s not gonna happen.” The other guy stated. He obviously wasn’t strong and the owner, Wooyoung was holding me back the most but I got the feeling I didn’t want to mess with this guy. 

I sighed, looking back to Yunho and San who were being absolutely no help. “I just need to fucking talk to her okay!” 

The two shared a look, before the skinnier one turned back to me, shaking his head. He was about to open his mouth and say something when the more excited one interjected. “You know....I can’t let you go talk to her....but for the right price....I’ll give you her number.”

“Woo, you devil spawn.”

“He’s not going to agree to it-”

“Done.”

“Excuse me, what.....” Wooyoung turned away in surprise from the argument he was having with his friend. 

At this point I was desperate. Wooyoung’s eyes turned to saucers as I started pulling out all the cash in my wallet (which was quite a bit). “How much?” The two of the just stood staring at the money in my hand. “Not enough?” I heaved an anxious sight before looking over my shoulder at my friends. “Yunho give me your wallet.” 

Not batting an eye, the tall dancer gave it to me and let me start taking cash out of his billfold. I handed them the thick stack of cash, looking at them expectantly. Slowly, Wooyoung reached out and pocketed the money before speaking again. 

“You know I was just going to ask for a selfie, but that works too.”

Previous Chapter   ☁   Next Chapter

Blue Skies M.List

Masterlist

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma [After Story]

ー The scene starts in the garden

Yui: ( One year has passed since Yuma-kun and I got married... )

( And now it’s time to harvest the vegetables we’ve been meticulously growing ever since. )

Nn...Just a...little more...!

( And right now, while Yuma-kun is letting me ride on his shoulder, I am in the middle of plucking them... )

( However, there’s just no way Yuma-kun - being the bully he is - would let me harvest them in peace... )

Yuma: Come on, ya gotta extend yer arms some more, Sow!

*Rustle*

Yui: Easy for you to say...!

You’re the one shaking me around...! I can’t get a good grip...!

*Rustle*

Yuma: Aahn? It’s shakin’?

Yui: I-It is...!

Yuma: How so?

Yui: How, you ask...? Kyah!

Yuma: Oi, oi. Don’t want any misunderstandings, do ya?

I’m not the one to blame, ya end up swayin’ from left to right ‘cause you’re too damn heavy.

It’s ‘cause ya haven’t been looking after yer own physique, right? Not my fault.

This is what they’d call ‘ya reap what ya sow’.

Yui: A-Am I that heavy?

( I thought I was around average, so it’s somewhat of a shocker if I actually am on the heavy side... )

Yuma: Aah, so heavy! If I continue havin’ to carry ya like this, Imma bust my shoulder.

Yui: Eeh!? It’s that bad!? 

( ...Uu, I seriously have to go on a diet then...! )

Yuma: ーー As if, there’s just no way.

Yui: ...!? You were lying just now!? You meanie!

Yuma: Aah? Who ya callin’ a meanie?

Yui: B-But...! I was about to fall into a depression for real...!

Yuma: Haah? Why? Aah, ‘cause I called ya a fattie?

Haha! That was obviously a joke?

Do I really look like the type of guy who would struggle carryin’ ‘round a skinny chick like ya on my shoulder?

Oi, what’s yer answer? Come on!

*Rustle*

Yui: W-Wah...!

Yuma: Come on, what’s wrong, Sow? I’m askin’ for yer answer, aren’t I?

Yui: L-Like I said! Stop shaking me like that!

Yuma: That’s not an answer to my question. If ya won’t listen to me, guess I’ll have to punish ya then.

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah! A-Aaaah, it’s dangerous!

Yuma: Hah! What? Pissin’ yer pants or somethin’?

This is kinda fun, makes me want to shake ya ‘round even more...There!

Yui: Wah! I-It’s scary when I’m up high like this!

Yuma: Hm? Scary?

Do ya have a fear of heights or somethin’?

Yui: I-I don’t but...

( T-Thank god...He stopped moving around... )

Yuma: Damn, ya gave me a scare for nothin’...

For one, you’re to blame for not gettin’ on with it.

Come on, don’t be such a slowpoke!

We’re runnin’ out of time! I have a busy schedule!

*Rustle*

Yui: Even if you say that...!

Do you want to let me harvest these vegetables or notーー

Which one is it, honestly?

Yuma: Are ya stupid?

Why do ya think I’m carryin’ ya, if I wouldn’t let ya help me with the harvest?

Ya don’t understand why I’m goin’ out of my way to lift ya into the air like this?

Yui: W-Well...I think it’s so I can pluck the vegetables.

( I want to believe that’s the case...But! )

Yuma: Then get those hands movin’!

Or what? Are ya doin’ this on purpose ‘cause ya wanna get punished?

Yui: That’s not it!

Yuma: Then get on with it! Geez, ya start cryin’ ‘round like a baby just ‘cause of some minor shakin’...

Come on, those ones on top look pretty good, huh? Hurry up and grab them!

*Rustle*

Yui: Ah! Like I said, it’s dangerous!

Yuma: Hehehe! Yer voice is quaverin’, Yui!

Yui: I-I’m gonna fall...!

Besides, if you keep on messing around like this, I don’t think we’ll ever finish the task at hand...!

Yuma: Aahn? You’re gonna start lecturin’ me...?

*Rustle*

Yui: I-It’s not about...lecturing you...! Kyaah!!

Yuma: Idiot. Ya really think I’d drop ya?

Look at that dumb expression on yer face. Who do ya think I am?

No matter what stupid things I may do on a daily basis, I wouldn’t let ya get hurt.

Yui: Yuma-kun...

Yuma: I’m shakin’ ya ‘round ‘cause you’re too damn slow...

In other words, a punishment...Wait, no.

It’s tough love! (1)

Yui: Kyaah!

( I figured he’d stop but Yuma-kun’s really having a blast...! )

( I don’t want this ‘tough love’... )

Yuma: Come on! Pick them already, Sow!

Yui: Kyah...!

( Yuma-kun really always seems to enjoy himself whenever he’s teasing me. )

( But...I won’t lose. )

( If I give in here, we’ll never get anywhere...! )

( I have to...stretch my arm all the way... )

( Okay...! I got it...There! )

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah! G-Geez! Yuma-kun! Ah...Watch...out!

Yuma: Haha, you’re makin’ these really funny sounds.

Yui: Say, if you do this, we really won’t get this done, you know?

We have to properly pluck these in time for the harvest festival...

Yuma: Aah? You’re the one who brought that up though?

Yui: T-That’s true but...

( We managed to get this many delicious, ripe vegetables just in time for harvest season. )

( So I brought up the idea of holding a celebration. )

( Speaking of which, I feel like Yuma-kun was never truly on board with it... )

ー A flashback ensues

Yui: You know, these vegetables from our garden really are delicious.

Yuma: They sure are.

Yui: Say, why don’t we do something with these?

Yuma: Haah? What do ya have in mind then?

Yui: Hm...For example...Why don’t we hold a harvest festival like they do abroad?

Yuma: Harvest festival?

Why do we have to do that shit?

Yui: Look, we could turn it into a garden party and have a meal together with everyone outside...

I’m sure the vegetables we eat every day will taste even better than usual.

Yuma: Ya think so?

Yui: Of course! I’m sure it’ll be fun!

Yuma: But we’re eatin’ these veggies every day, right? What’s the point in doin’ this now?

Yui: ( Uu, seems like Yuma-kun isn’t too stoked about my idea... )

But you spent so much time and effort into growing them, so I just wanted to think of a way to enjoy them even more...

Yuma: ...

Yui: Please, Yuma-kun? Let’s harvest a bunch of vegetables and hold a party?

Yuma: ...

Yui: ...No?

Yuma: ...Che. Guess ya leave me with no other choice.

If ya want to do it that badly, I’ll tag along.

Yui: Really!?

Yuma: In return, you’re gonna be the one doin’ most of the work. That’s my condition.

Yui: Hooray! I’m so happy...Thank you, Yuma-kun!

Yuma: Haah...I always go way too easy on ya.

I can’t be like this...Gotta be more strict...

Soon, she’ll play me like a fiddle...!

She may be the chick I fell head over heels for, I’m not gonna let her use me as her loyal lil’ servant...I gotta think of some sort of plan...

Yui: ...

( I managed to convince him somehow, I guess? )

( Okay, I’ll try my best on the preparations for harvest season! )

ー The flashback ends

Yui: ( He gave me green light back then, but it’s Yuma-kun we’re talking about, so he might be sick of it already... )

Yuma: Whatcha spacin’ out for? Come on!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyaah!?

*Swoosh*

Yuma: Woah there!

Yui: I-It’s dangerous...You just gave me a heart attack...!

Yuma: See? I caught ya so ya wouldn’t fall, didn’t I?

Even if I spook ya a lil’, I would never put ya through pain. 

Yui: You big dummy...! I was really scared...!

Yuma: Who ya callin’ a dummy, Sow? Ya can’t trust me or somethin’?

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah! Y-Yuma-kun...?

Yuma: This is what I do...to cheeky women like ya!

ー Yuma bites her

Yui: ...!

Yuma: Nn...

Yui: Ah...

( Geez, Yuma-kun, he suddenly bit my neck...! )

Yuma: Don’t be fightin’ back...! Nn...

Yui: ...Nn...!

Yuma: Nn...!

Haah...Nn...

...Per usual...Your blood’s...Nn...

The sweetest thing ever...Surpassin’ even Sugar-chan...Nn...

Yui: ...Geez...Oh you...~

Yuma: You’re at fault. For having...such delicious blood.

Haah...It’s hella delicious...Nn...Kuh...!

When I drink yer blood, I feel like I’ll let everythin’ else slide, it’s kinda odd.

I might have seriously fallen head over heels for yer blood...Haha!

Yui: Only my blood...?

Yuma: ...Aahn?

Yui: You only like my blood...? How about me as a person...?

Yuma Fool.

Whatcha soundin’ so miserable for?

Yui: W-Well...

Yuma: Whatcha sayin’ at this point? Ya really are a fool.

Yui: H-How could you!

Yuma: Listen to me. ...Yer blood is definitely delicious.

But if that was the only thing, ya really think I would have gone through the trouble of marryin’ ya?

Yui: Yuma-kun...

Yuma: Che. Geez, I really have to spell everythin’ out for ya, don’t I...?

Or maybe this is enough to satisfy ya? Aah?

Yui: ...!

Yuma: Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: Nn...!

Yuma: ...Geez...

I...love ya.

Didn’t I say that I’m head over heels for ya?

Yet that’s not enough for ya, huh? You’re so greedy.

Yui: Yuma-kun...

Yuma: Che. You’re makin’ me say all the embarrassin’ shit. ...Fuck.

For now, lemme suck yer blood...!

Yui: K-Kyah...! Hold up, Yuma-kun!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the shopping mall

Yuma: ...Say, there’s still more stuff to buy...?

Yui: Yeah. There’s still some daily necessities we’re running low on...

Yuma: Ahー Fuck! This damn crowd is drivin’ me mad!

Yui: It’s a holiday, so it’s more crowded than usual, isn’t it?

Yuma: Ya really should have just come by yerself.

Yui: But I can’t carry all of this stuff by myself...

Yuma: Hooh? So ya always intended to bring me along just to carry yer bags, huh?

Yui: I’m pretty sure I was honest about that when I invited you along...

Yuma: Yeah. I tagged along ‘cause I felt like I had no other choice after ya came cryin’ to me like that.

Yui: I-I wasn’t crying...!

( I also asked him because I enjoy going out shopping with Yuma-kun though... )

Yuma: Ya didn’t speak a word of this crowd tho!

Ah-ah, if I had known this, I would have much rather taken a nice nap at home.

Yui: ...

Yuma: ...What? Don’t go quiet on me.

Yui: ...But...I didn’t think you’d dislike it this much...

I’m sorry, Yuma-kun...

Yuma: ...Oi, don’t look like you’re ‘bout to cry.

I don’t hate it that much.

If I did, I wouldn’t have come.

Yui: ...Really!? Thank god...!

Then, can we go look at some clothes after getting the daily necessities?

Yuma: ...Excuse me? Ya sure change yer mood from one second to another...

Yui: Eh?

Yuma: Ya were in tears just now! Where did those go?

Yui: But you said you don’t dislike this, right?

ー She holds onto his arm

*Rustle*

Yui: I’m happy to be able to head out together and shop like this!

Yuma: ...Che. You’re a wicked woman.

Yui: Eh? How so?

Yuma: Oh well, whatever. But only use yer charms on me, ‘kay?

Come on, let’s go!

Yui: Kyah! You walk way too fast!

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Ah, look! There’s so many delicious-looking fruits...!

Yuma: Ahー? We’re growin’ these at home so we don’t need them, right?

Yui: But there’s ones we’re not growing as well. We should buy different ones every now and then...

Yuma: Like I said, we don’t need them...

Yui: But...

Yuma: Are ya even listenin’!? If there’s a kind ya wanna eat, just tell me!

Yui: Eh?

Yuma: If ya want it, I’ll grow it!

Well, I can’t do it overnight ‘course.

But I’ll make sure they will be ripe and ready to be eaten by next year.

Yui: Yuma-kun...

Yuma: Why are ya in tears again?

Yui: B-Because...!

Yuma: If ya actually start cryin’, I’m leavin’ ya behind, got it?

Yui: Eh? W-Wait! Yuma-kun!

Yuma: Che. Don’t go ‘bout shoutin’ like that!

Azusa: Huh...? Yui-san? And...Yuma as well.

Kou: Seems like the two of you are being lovey-dovey per usual~

Yui: Huh? You guys! What brings you all here? Out shopping?

Kou: Yeah, exactly. But the two of you really are close both at home and outside, huh? It’s almost making me jealous.

Ruki: Don’t stand out too much in public.

Kou: You tell them!

Yui: ...Uu, sorry...

Yuma: The fuck? Ya guys appear out of nowhere and you’re already callin’ us out?

Kou: Don’t you think you two are to blame for flirting out in the open like that?

Yuma: Fuck off! That’s our business, isn’t it?

We’re a married couple and she’s my woman.

I obviously gotta keep her close so some weird fucker doesn’t set his sights on her.

ー Yuma wraps his arm around her

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah!?

Yuma: Come on, let’s go, Sow!

Yui: Y-Yeah!

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ...

Yuma: ...

Yui: ...

Yuma: ...What? You’ve been quiet this whole time.

Yui: Yeah...Ruki-kun and the others saw us earlier...

Yuma: Ahn?

Yui: It never bothered me up till then, but I suddenly grew embarrassed.

Yuma: Ah? What do ya mean, embarrassed?

What’s so embarrassin’ ‘bout bein’ seen together with me?

Yui: N-No. That’s not what I meant...

It was the first time they all saw us together outside, so I suddenly grew very self-conscious.

Yuma: You’re the one who clung onto me, right? It’s yer own fault.

Yui: That’s...true but...

Yuma: It’s not like we did somethin’ naughty in front of them, so don’t let it bother ya.

Yui: W-Well of course we didn’t!

( Who would do that in public...!? )

Yuma: Hmm?

Yui: W-What?

Yuma: I see.

Yui: Honestly, what?

Yuma: Next time ya give me that kinda cheeky attitude, I should just knock ya out with a single kiss, huh?

Yui: Eh!?

Yuma: It’s fun to see ya cry ‘bout as well, but I guess I should just do this when I want to shut ya up real quick?

Yui: W-W-Wait, Yuma-kun!

Yuma: ...What?

Yui: Y-You can’t? L-Like...kissing and stuff...Out in public...

Yuma: I won’t if ya behave. Yer fate is in yer own hands!

Yui: Eeh!?

Yuma: Well, ya better be careful!

Yui: ( Uu...! I will... )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the garden at night

Yuma: ...They still won’t bloom, huh?

Haah...

Honestly...What has gotten into me...?

Why am I puttin’ so much effort into growin’ these...?

Do I blame it on her? Or am I doing it for her...?

Haah...

This doesn’t suit me tho...

...

But she was super happy with them the other time.

And she looked rather pretty when I put it into her hair...

It marked...the first step of our relationship after all.

I guess I can’t do much wrong by tryin’ to please her...

For one, it’s out of character for me to even worry ‘bout something like a wedding anniversary.

I guess this shows that love makes a guy go weak...

...

These roses are different from the ones I grew in memory of my comrades back then...

I grew these with her in mind...

I won’t give up, even if they won’t bloom.

I’ll keep lookin’ after them till they grow beautiful flowers...

...

...Che, I’m really not actin’ like myself...

Makes me laugh...

I can’t let her see me like this.

I hope they’ll bloom in time for the anniversary.

Or rather, I’ll make sure of it!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the dining hall

Yui: Say, Yuma-kun.

Yuma: Ah?

Yui: Things are gonna get busy today!

Yuma: ...Why?

Yui: Did you forget already? Today is the harvest festival! I have to prepare for the party.

Yuma: Aah, that’s today?

Yui: I told you several times yesterday! How come you’re so out of it?

Is it because...you don’t want to celebrate the harvest festival?

Yuma: ...Not really, honestly.

Yui: ...

( I wonder what’s wrong with him? He’s been like this for a few days... )

Yuma: ...Aahn? Why are ya lookin’ at me with that weird look on yer face?

Got a problem with my behavior or somethin’?

Yui: No, I don’t but...

Ah, right.

Yuma: Ah?

Yui: I’m gonna start cooking now, so you lend me a hand too, okay?

Yuma: A hand?

I told ya that you’re gonna do most of the work for this festival, right?

Yui: Of course, I’ll give it my best shot as well. But it’d be a great help if you could at least assist me a little...

I can’t rely on you for help?

I’m sure you would be such an amazing help though...

Yuma: Che, ya always give me that crap. I don’t mind tho.

Yui: Hooray! Let’s start preparing the food right away then.

I’ll leave setting up the table outside up to you!

Yuma: Roger...

...Geez, first she butters up to ya and then starts orderin’ ya around like a slave...

Yui: ...Hm? Did you say something?

Yuma: No? Nothing?

Yui: Really? Okay then...

Well then, I gotta give it my best shot! I have to make sure it’s extra delicious today!

ー Yui walks to the kitchen

Yuma: Geez...Look at her bein’ all excited.

I shouldn’t have agreed to lettin’ her organize this garden party so easily.

Why do I have to help my own wife prepare food for some other guys?

I fucked up...

Yui: Hm? Did you say something?

Yuma: Nothin’! ...Ya sure have some sharp ears...

Yui: Ah! You were talking bad behind my back just now, weren’t you!?

Yuma: ...I wasn’t! Geez...

Yui: Really?

Yuma: Like I said, have some faith in me.

Yui: ( I do trust him but...He definitely said something just now, didn’t he? )

Yuma: You’re gonna make a real feast, right? Hurry up and get started on the food!

Yui: Yeah! Look forward to it, okay?

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the kitchen

Yui: Phew...Guess this is the best I can do...

Yuma: I’m all done. Woah! Looks good!

Yui: Really? I’m glad! Thank you for helping me, Yuma-kun.

Yuma: Yeah. Should I carry these?

Yui: Yeah. I’d appreciate it if you could take all finished dishes with you.

Yuma: Roger.

ー The scene shifts to the garden

Yuma: Oh? Ya guys are already here?

Azusa: Because it’s already...the designated time...

Kou: Wooow~ M-neko-chan’s homemade cooking looks delicious!

Azusa: I’ve gotten...kinda hungry...

Ruki: The meals she makes aren’t half bad for livestock.

Yuma: Hah! Right?

My Sow is well-trained after all!

Kou: And what are you so proud about...?

Ruki: Good grief, how shameless...

Azusa: You’ve become a total softie when it comes to her, haven’t you, Yuma...?

Yuma: Hah! What’s the problem with bragging ‘bout what belongs to me?

Kou: How many times do I have to tell you to stop subconsciously going into ‘loving husband’ mode!?

Yuma: I’m not doin’ that!

Anyway, what is she up to? She’s still not done?

She really is such a slowpoke...

ー The scene shifts back to the kitchen

Yui: Nn...There we go.

This wraps up the final dish...I guess?

What should I do? I’d love to sprinkle some herbs on top of the meat but...

I don’t think we’re growing any in our own garden?

I’ll go take a look.

ー The scene shifts to the garden

Yui: Hm...?

( There’s an enclosure I haven’t seen before...? )

I wonder what it’s for...?

*SCENE SHIFT*

Yuma: Hm...? Why is she there!?

ー Yuma rushes over to her

Yuma: Oi! Yui!!

Yui: Eh? Kyah...!

*Rustle*

Yuma: What are ya doing here!?

Yui: Hey, you’re hurting me, Yuma-kun!

Yuma: I’m askin’ ya a question!

Yui: I wanted to sprinkle some herbs on top of the meat of the main dish...

Yuma: Herbs?

Yui: Then I found this unfamiliar enclosure...So I was wondering what it could be for...

See, over theーー Ow!

You’re hurting my arm, Yuma-kun!

Yuma: Ya...can’t look at that.

Look away! Geez. I really can’t lower my guard for one second ‘round ya...!

Yui: ( Lower his guard...What does he mean? )

Say, what has gotten into you all of a sudden?

Yuma: Ah? ...Nothin’, really.

That’s just none of yer business.

Yui: W-What...?

I was just curious. Why do you have to get so mad?

Yuma: Fuck off! It’s none of yer damn business! ーー That’s all.

Anyway, stay away from it. Understood?

Yui: Yeah...But you could always tell me...

Yuma: Shut up!

Yuma: Just get goin’ and join those guys already!

All ya have to do is shut yer damn mouth and listen to me!

Yui: I know, I will. You don’t need to shout at me like that...

Yuma: Scram!

Yui: ...!

ー Yui walks away

Yuma: ...Che!

I didn’t think she’d come here...

Fuck!

I started panickin’ and accidentally lashed out at her...!

Yui, she seemed frightened...

Haah...

...Fuck...I don’t want to make her cry or anythin’ tho...

Why can I never be honest...?

*TIMESKIP*

*Cling*

Kou: Nnー! This is deliciousー!

Yuma: Oi, stop chowin’ down ya guys! I’m fuckin’ starvin’ too!

Kou: The same goes for us though? Right, Azusa-kun~?

Azusa: Yeah, I’m hungry too...I came here with an empty stomach because I was looking forward to Yui-san’s cooking...

Ruki: You are all being way too gluttonous. It’s a disgrace...

Yui: There’s still plenty left, so you don’t have to eat that quickly, you know...?

Kou: Really? Then keep it coming!

Azusa: I still have plenty of space in my tummy...

Yui: You’ll have some more as well, Yuma-kun?

Yuma: ...

Yui: ( ...Seems like he’s upset after all. )

( He has never given me the silent treatment like this... )

( I must have done something truly upsetting... )

Yuma: ...

...Haah, I’m goin’ to the restroom.

ー Yuma walks away

Yui: ( So he really is mad at me for what I did... )

( What should I do...? )

Kou: Sayー Aren’t the two of them acting kind of off?

Ruki: They are...

Azusa: It’s odd...

Kou: I wonder what happened?

*TIMESKIP*

Kou: Phew~ I’m stuffed! Thank you for the feast! It was delicious!

Yui: Fufu, I’m glad to hear that. Thank you guys for joining us today as well.

Kou: Yeah!

Yuma: ...

Azusa: The food was extremely delicious.

Yui: Thank you, Azusa-kun.

Ruki: See you.

ー The scene shifts to Yui’s bedroom

Yui: Phew...

( Yuma-kun’s mood remained sour the whole time after that... )

( That was never my intention...It should have been so much more fun of a day... )

( ーー Why did things have to turn out like this? )

( Yuma-kun retreated back into his room right away... )

I feel a little...lonely.

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Yui: ( A few days have passed since but...Yuma-kun’s mood just won’t improve. )

( He won’t shout at me, but he barely talks to me either. )

( It’s obvious he seems to be avoiding me... )

( What should I do...? )

*Ding dong*

Yui: ( Huh? A visitor...? )

Coming!

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall

Reinhart: Hello.

Yui: Oh? Reinhart-sensei? Hello.

Reinhart: Hey, it’s been a while.

Yui: What brings you here today?

Reinhart: Yeah, I’ve got a little something to discuss with Ruki-kun.

Yui: I see... Ah, please come in. (2) I’ll go call Ruki-kun right away.

Reinhart: Thank you. Sorry for the trouble.

Yui: It’s nothing...

ー Yuma enters the manor

Yui: Ah, Yuma-kun, welcome back. Reinhart-sensei is visiting us right now...

Yuma: ...Heeh.

Yui: Uhm, I’m going to set some tea so would you care for a cup as well?

Yuma: ...Nah.

Yui: ...Really?

Yuma: Yeah.

ー Yuma leaves

Yui: Ah, I’ll go make the tea then.

Reinhart: Thank you.

Yui: ( ...Yuma-kun’s mood really won’t get better. )

( Furthermore, that attitude...Sensei might think of us weirdly now. )

( Sensei was there to witness our wedding vows, so I wouldn’t want to make him worry. )

( What should I do...? )

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Kou: Ah! Sensei’s actually here! Hello~ 

Reinhart: Seems like you’re doing well too, Kou-kun. Hello.

I ran into Yuma-kun earlier and...Did something happen between the two of them? The mood seemed somewhat tense.

Ruki: Right...

Kou: It’s been like that for days now. As fellow members of this household, it’s become kind of awkward for us as well, right?

Azusa: ...Exactly...

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Sorry for the wait.

*Cling*

Reinhart: Ah, thank you.

Yui: You guys can have some as well if you’d like.

*Cling*

Kou: Thank you, M-neko-chan~

Ruki: I shall have a sip then.

Azusa: Thanks...Eve...

Reinhart: Smells wonderful. Is this a herbal tea?

Yui: Ah, yes. It’s made with the herbs we grow in our garden.

Reinhart: Heeh, you’re growing them yourself?

Yui: Rather than alone, I do it together with Yuma-kun.

Reinhart: Right, about the two of you.

Yui: ...Yes?

Reinhart: Things seemed a little awkward. What happened exactly?

Yui: ...Well...

( So he did notice after all... )

( But I’m not sure how to explain this... )

Things aren’t going so well...

Everyone: ...

Reinhart: Well, I’m sure being together every day comes with its up and downs but...

Since you married out of mutual love, I hope the two of you can talk it out soon.

Yui: ...Yes.

Reinhart: You know, I witnessed the two of you getting married, so I can’t help but be a little worried.

I know I might be sticking my nose into someone else’s business by saying this but...Are you okay?

Yui: ( Sensei’s worried about us... )

( I’m sure Ruki-kun and the others are as well... )

Sensei.

Reinhart: Yes?

Yui: I’ll try my best to make up.

So...We’re okay.

Reinhart: ...I see.

However, don’t push yourself, okay? When you feel like you’re at the end of your devices, make sure to rely on the people around you, okay?

Yui: Yes...Thank you very much.

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Yui’s bedroom

Yui: Haah...

( I told everyone we would talk things out but... )

( In the end, we still haven’t had a proper conversation... )

( It’s almost our one-year wedding anniversary, yet things are still awkward between us. )

( What should I do...? )

( I know that I tried to approach something Yuma-kun wants to keep hidden back then. )

( But if I apologize without knowing why he got so upset exactly, he might only grow even more angry with me... )

( I hope the two of us can have a good talk... )

I wonder how we can make up...?

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ...It’s finally our wedding anniversary...

( I would have liked to have talked things out with Yuma-kun by today... )

He was so very upset back then...

( However, he wouldn’t become aggressive towards me without a reason. )

( There was definitely some sort of reason behind his anger. )

...

I wonder if he has forgotten that it’s our wedding anniversary today?

( Even if he has, this is an important day to me. I do want to talk things out. )

( I have to talk to him...! )

( I don’t want this misunderstanding to last forever...! )

ー The scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: ( I’ll go see him...! )

*Thud*

Yui: ...Kyah!

Yuma: ...Yui?

Yui: Yuma-kun!?

Perfect timing...I was just about to drop by your room.

You see...I want to talk to you and make up...

Yuma: ...The fuck?

Ya really are...!

Yui: Eh...?

Yuma: Che...! Whatever, just follow me for a sec!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah!? Y-Yuma-kun? W-Wait...!?

ー Yuma tugs her along as they move to the garden

Yui: ( This is where we fought on the day of the garden party... )

( I’m sure there’s something here which he doesn’t want me to get close to... )

( ...Even though I didn’t know, I should apologize for upsetting him. )

U-Uhm...Yuma-kun...!

Yuma: Yui. Can ya listen to me first?

Yui: Y-Yeah...

Yuma: Ahー... Ya see...

Yui: Mmh.

Yuma: ‘Bout the other day...

Yui: Yeah...

Yuma: ...

Yui: ( Yuma-kun...? )

Yuma: Well, it’s that...

Yui: ...I’m listening?

Yuma: ...I know that much!

Yui: ( I wonder what has gotten into him? Unlike usual, he seems to be having a hard time expressing himself... )

Yuma: Oi, Yui!

Yui: ーー Y-Yes!

Yuma: ...I’m sorry for what happened the other day.

Yui: ...Eh?

Yuma: ‘Eh?’, my ass!

Knowin’ ya, I’m pretty sure that...Ya haven’t looked ‘cause I told ya not to, right?

At the...flowers from the other day.

Yui: Flowers...?

Yuma: So ya really haven’t looked.

Yui: Which flowers are you talking about?

Yuma: I lashed out at ya the other day, right? ‘Cause ya approached this place.

Yui: Yeah.

Yuma: I didn’t actually mean to get that upset.

But ya were suddenly standin’ here, I got completely thrown off.

Then I panicked and took it out on ya. ...I really do feel bad.

Yui: D-Don’t say that...! It was the first time seeing you so mad for me as well...

I figured I must have done something horrible, so I was going to apologize as well.

...I’m sorry too.

Yuma: Idiot, you’ve got nothin’ to say sorry for. ...I won’t suddenly shout at ya like that from here on out.

Yui: Yuma-kun...

Yuma: Take a look. I just wanted to keep the fact I was growin’ these a secret.

Yui: These are...Roses...!

Wah...Amazing! They’ve bloomed beautifully...

Yuma: Back then they hadn’t bloomed yet...So that’s why I panicked.

But I somehow got them to bloom in time for today.

Yui: Eh? In time...?

Yuma: ...Say, Yui. Do ya remember the wedding ceremony we held here one year ago?

Yui: I do. I could never forget.

( Yuma-kun gave me such a wonderful memory back then... )

( I could never forget about such a lovely day... )

Today is a special day to me as well. That’s why I’ve been looking forward to it this whole time.

Yuma: Heeh?

Yui: That’s why I was on my way to meet you, because I definitely wanted to make things up to you today.

That’s when I coincidentally ran into you.

Yuma: I see. Guess ya were lookin’ forward to it in yer own way as well.

Yui: ...? What do you mean?

Yuma: Listen up.

I proposed to ya last year, right?

Yui: Yeah.

Yuma: Back then, I vowed to only ever love ya, forever.

That feeling hasn’t changed to this day.

Yui: Yes...

Yuma: So...

It was a rocky road but, I chose ya and ya chose me.

Yui: Mmh...

Yuma: But I’m not very smooth.

So there’s times where I can’t always treat ya with care.

And I might take things out on ya like the other day.

...But even so.

My feelings towards ya are the only thing which won’t ever change.

...Even after one year, they’re still the same.

Yui: Yuma-kun...

Yuma: If anything...

Rather than changin’, I treasure ya even more than I did back then.

Yui: ...

Yuma: Che, this shit really is embarrassin’...

Yui: Yuma-kun...

( He’s a little awkward, but despite that, he’s still expressing himself... )

Yuma: Well, I do love ya properly.

It’s our anniversary, so I figured I should tell ya that.

Yui: I feel the same way, Yuma-kun.

Yuma: Ah?

Yui: I love you too.

Yuma: ...Whatcha sayin’ all of a sudden?

I know that already!

Yui: Fufu, but you gave me such a wonderful love confession. I want to return the favor as well.

However...I really can’t believe one year has gone by already.

Back then ーー I felt so happy when you made that vow to me.

Yuma: ...I only stated the truth, that’s all.

Yui: But you usually wouldn’t say those things, right?

Yuma: ‘Course not! Why would I have to proclaim my love to ya 24/7?

Yui: Maybe not 24/7, but I still feel happy when you do.

Yuma: Happy, huh?

Yui: Also back then, I was happy to receive the rose you had so carefully grown.

Yuma: That was...

Yui: You gave me the rose you had grown for the special people in your life.

So I felt as if I had become someone special to you as well...

Yuma: ...You...

Say, Yui.

Yui: Yes?

Yuma: I did raise that rose for Boss and the others but...

These are different...

I grew this one from scratch, with ya in mind.

Yui: Me...?

Yuma: Well, it’s still a rose of course. And both roses are special to me in their own right.

...But ya know.

But I wanted to give ya a rose, which was grown for yer sake.

This might just be my own self-satisfaction showin’ again tho.

How do I put it? I wanted to put my ‘feelings’ (3) in there...

So when ya nearly saw them before they bloomed...

I felt as if they wouldn’t properly convey my feelings so...

Yui: I see...

Yuma: ...It’s bullshit, huh? And there was really no point in fightin’ with ya over somethin’ like that.

Yui: It isn’t ridiculous...

( He’s properly conveying to me his thoughts in his own words. )

( Not a single one of those is pointless. )

Yuma: Well, I guess I wanted to make a distinction for myself.

Also, there’s actually one more reason why I grew these roses.

Yui: And that is?

Yuma: ...It’d be too out-of-character so I’m not tellin’ ya.

Yui: Eeh~? You already hinted at it, so I’d love to hear the rest now though...

Yuma: ...Geez, stop lookin’ at me with those puppy eyes (4)! Ya know I’m weak to those suckers!

Yui: Eh? Sorry...

( That wasn’t my intention... )

Yuma: Then, I’ll only say it once.

Yui: Yeah.

Yuma: I put a rose in yer hair last year, remember?

Back then, ya looked a lil’ different than what I expected...

Yui: What did you expect then?

Yuma: ーー For some reason, ya looked hella stunnin’ back then.

So I wanted to put one in there again, I guess...

It’s a really shallow reason. I just wanted to...see ya with a rose in yer hair again.

Yui: Yuma-kun...

Yuma: So!

This rose I grow with ya in mind...

I’ll put it on ya again.

*Rustle*

Yui: W-Wait! Yuma-kun.

Yuma: ...What?

Yui: You worked so hard growing those roses...It’d be a waste.

Yuma: It’s fine. These are for ya.

Yui: But...

Yuma: If ya really think it’s such a waste, we can just grow some new ones again.

Yui: Eh?

Yuma: Next year and the year after all, forever. As long as ya want the roses I grow...

I’ll raise them for ya, year after year.

Right...In that case, I might as well raise 999 roses at some pointーー

Then turn them into a rose bouquet for ya.

Yui: ...Fufu, I doubt I’d be able to carry that in my arms.

( However, I’m not happy just to receive roses... )

( The fact he’s giving me these flowers he grew with me in mind, is what makes me so happy... )

Thank you, Yuma-kun.

Yuma: ...Yeah.

Yuma: Say, Yui.

Stay by my side another year.

Then next year, lemme vow to ya again. That I love ya...

Next year I won’t just stick to one, but grow lots for ya.

*Rustle*

Yuma: Yui, I love ya...

Yuma: Better brace yerself for next year, ‘kay...? Nn...

Yui: ...!

Yuma: Ya will be my woman forever. Understood...?

Yui: Yeah...! We’ve made up now, right...?

Yuma: Yeah...We have.

Yui: If we can make up like this, then perhaps having a fight every once in a while isn’t too bad.

Yuma: Don’t be silly.

I seriously don’t want any fights.

Honestly, I thought I was gonna go fuckin’ bald from thinkin’ of a good way to apologize to ya...

Yui: You had such a hard time deciding? You did?

Yuma: I did! ‘Cause I definitely didn’t want ya to hate me.

Yui: Fufu...I don’t want to quarrel with you either.

Yuma: Good to know ya understand...Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: Geez...Yuma-kun...Nn...

There’s no end...!

Yuma: Oh right. The harvest festival ya were lookin’ forward to so much kind of ended up being anticlimactic as well.

Yui: Yeah, but everyone enjoyed it...

Yuma: Next year we definitely won’t fight.

Even if we do, we’ll make up right away.

We just have to honestly apologize to each other.

Yui: Yes.

Yuma: So...

Let’s hold an even bigger party next time!

We’ll make so much food, even Kou will be stuffed to the point he can’t take another bite...

Yui: Yeah, we will. I’ll cook even bigger of a feast next time!

Also, want to try inviting someone over? The more, the merrier!

Yuma: Who would ya invite then? We barely have any acquaintances, do we?

Yui: How about Reinhart-sensei? He did seem worried about us after all.

Yuma: Well, he was pretty much our Priest too. I wouldn’t mind inviting him.

Yui: Gosh, Yuma-kun. Don’t put it like that.

Yuma: In that case, I wouldn’t mind addin’ one more into the mix by next year. A family member.

Yui: Eh?

D-Do you mean...!?

Yuma: You’re the one who said the more, the merrier, right?

If that’s what ya wish, I wouldn’t mind helpin’ out a lil’?

Yui: Geez...

( However, that might not be a bad idea... )

( Expand our little family by next year...Invite a bunch of people over... )

( And all have a feast together. )

( I’m sure...it’ll be a blast. )

Yuma: Well, either way, as long as you’re here with me, I’m enjoying myself, and feel happy.

Don’t ya dare forget that. ーー Never.

Yui: ...Yeah!

ーー THE END ーー 

Translation notes

(1) In Japanese, the term is 愛の鞭 or ‘ai no muchi’ which literally means ‘the whip of love’. 

(2) When inviting someone inside your house, you can use the verb 上がる or ‘agaru’ which literally means ‘to go up’ or ‘to ascend’. Most Japanese houses have a little step at the entrance hall to indicate, hence why they use said verb. 

(3) When 想い or ‘omoi’ is written with said particular kanji, it doesn’t just refer to ‘thoughts’, but to ‘feelings’ (often in the romantic sense of the word) as well.

(4) Literally he says she’s looking at him with ‘upturned eyes’. 

[kitkatd7]

Broken Hearts and Whiskey

Summary: Bucky’s not the same anymore. He doesn’t spend time with you at all, or keep his promises. And your done with it.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, lots of angst, drinking, my grammar errors because I didn’t fully edit

Dialogue Prompt #19. “Please! You have to let me make this right.” 

Dialogue Prompt #7: "I can't keep being your second choice, not when you're my first." 

(Prompts will be in bold)

Word Count: 1,654

A/N: This is for @imma-new-soul‘s 550 Follower Writing Challenge and @buckys-other-punk 500 Writing Challenge!! I hope y’all like it! Sorry it’s pretty sad and the ending isn’t as good as it could be :( Also this was inspired by the songs ‘Die From a Broken Heart by Maddie & Tae and Different For Girls by Dierks Bentley' Also there are a few Criminal Minds references in here😂

Masterlinst of Masterlists || Marvel Masterist || Series Masterist || part 2 

------------------

“See you later!” You call over your shoulder at Natasha and Wanda as you unlock the door to your apartment, coming home from a very successful shopping spree. Walking into your home you toe-off your shoes at the door, setting down your keys and purse. “Babe, I’m home!” You sing, excited to finally get some time with Bucky after him being gone on a mission for three weeks. “Babe?” You ask, walking into the kitchen, setting down your multiple shopping bags and taking in the empty space. Where the hell is he? After searching the bedroom, living room, even the bathroom and still coming up empty, you look to see if you missed any calls. Nope. He was supposed to be here you fume inwardly as you press the speed dial photo; both of you together at a carnival, you smiling brightly as he places a kiss on your cheek sweetly.

It goes straight to voicemail. 5 times. Now you're not even mad… just disappointed in him. He promised. On try number 6 you’re just done. “Hey, it’s me. Listen, so I don’t know where you are but- just don’t bother coming home tonight, okay? I had plans but- never mind, it doesn’t matter that much. I’ll see you later.”  Pressing the red button you throw your phone on the couch before changing into something more comfortable. It wouldn’t be so frustrating that he wasn’t here if it was a one time thing- But this is the fifth time he hasn’t come home to spend time with you after a mission.

Plopping on the couch, you press start on something mindless that you aren’t going to watch anyway before checking your phone for- well. really anything.

1 new message

Unlocking your phone quickly, you open it in high hopes, only to see Sam’s name appear and your face falls. 

Sam: Bucky said you tried to call. Is it important?

You: No… just we had plans.

You confide, knowing Sam will understand.

Sam: Oh shit. Okay, want me to tell him to come home?

You: No. It’s fine.

Sighing, you toss your phone on the other end of the couch, throwing your head back in newfound anger. Asshole. He saw your calls and didn’t even pick up the damn phone. After a year of dating, you at least deserved that. 

------------

“Hey this is y/n, I can’t come to the phone right now cuz I’m out livin’ my life! Leave it at the beep.” He hears your all too familiar voicemail through the speaker. He had helped you come up with it, you hadn’t known what to put on it. He kicks himself, knowing you weren’t actually out living your life, just dodging his calls. Not that he blamed you- He deserved it and he knew it. Calling again, he’s not surprised when he hears your voicemail again.

“Hey… Um, listen, I know I was supposed to be at your place after the mission… I just wanted to unwind with the guys and- Shit. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think you would mind that much, I’ll be over in a bit to make it up to you, okay?” He leaves the message and ends the call before starting his car and driving towards your apartment, guilt heavy in his stomach.

You listen to his voicemail over and over, a strange mix of rage and sorrow weighing on your heart.

Tears roll slowly down your cheeks silently as you lay curled up in a defensive ball on your bed, trying to block out the unmistakable sound of Bucky begging you to open the front door; “Babe, please open the door,” He says, fist resting gently against the frame. “I’m sorry- really, really sorry. Please let me in and we can talk about it,” He sighs, resting his head against the door in defeat. He could break the lock and go in. You both know that. But he wouldn’t do that to you- All that would do is make you fear him and that’s the last thing he wants. He slides his back down the wall til he’s sitting on the floor next to your door, his elbows on his knees and his hands in his hair; Tears gathering in his lashes. He really messed up this time.

----------

The next day you drag yourself out of bed, trying to forget last night and all the tears you shed. After a shower and breakfast, you head out the door for a coffee run before work. You stop in your tracks when you see Bucky still sitting there, eyes red from lack of sleep and regret written all over his face. He jumps up when you walk out, keys in hand, the door closing behind you. “What are you doing here?” 

“I- I came to apologize,” he murmurs, looking in your eyes.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you bite, moving to step around him but stopping when he steps to block your path.

“Bucky, I’m going to be late for work,” you say coldly, glaring at him. “Move out of the way.”

“Please doll, just let me expla-”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I understand perfectly, James.” You watch as he flinches a little at the use of his first name. You only use it when your really mad or really happy, and it isn’t the latter right now. “You were too busy with your beer buddies to come see your girlfriend after being gone for three weeks, but what’s new? It’s been like this for months. I guess it was naive of me to expect something else this time.” You shoulder past him as he stares at you; dumbfounded. Tears gather in your eyes as you make your way to your car in the rain. Your almost there when you feel a large hand on your arm and hear your name being whispered. You turn around and look up into his stormy eyes. You always loved his eyes- They’re always so bright and big and- Now is not the time to be thinking about his stupidly gorgeous eyes.

“Please! You have to let me make this right,” he whispers, tears forming in his eyes as well, mixing with the raindrops rolling down his face and dampening is hair. 

“Bucky…” You sigh, pulling your arm out of his grasp gently. “I don’t think you can fix this. I can't keep being your second choice, not when you're my first." You climb into your car as he stares at you as you pull out of the parking lot. He sinks to the ground on his knees, not caring that his clothes are practically soaked, or that someone might think he looks crazy. None of that matters- because your gone. His girl. Gone. He can’t breathe. The pressure weighs heavy in lungs as all the air is pushed from them and his heart shatters. It’s all he can do to draw a ragged breathe between sobs.

---------------------

You manage to hold yourself together until you pull into the starbucks parking lot. And then you totally loose it; Tears and mascara mix together and run down your cheeks as you sob into your steering wheel. It feels like your heart is being torn out of your chest. Bucky was the best thing that ever happened to you… and deep down you had feared something like this would happen, but you didn’t think it actually would. You loved him- And now he was gone. 

You trek into Walmart, heading straight for the junk food isle, not caring that you look like an absolute mess. Grabbing some much needed chocolate, chips, cookies and other coping foods, you check out, starting to cry again when the cashier gives you a pitiful look on your way out. 

Stumbling into your apartment, you throw your bags on the kitchen counter before grabbing your desired snacks and tossing them on your bed. You pull on sweatpants and one of Bucky’s hoodies, sending an ache of longing through your chest. Even changing clothes feels like more effort than you could possibly muster but you somehow manage before crawling into bed and turning on reruns of Friends before you start crying again. After 2 bags of chocolate, a bag of Doritos, a burger and french fries you grabbed on the way home, you still feel like absolute shit. Maybe this is just how it will be- Unable to get over him, unable to move on. Eventually you fall asleep from exhaustion, tear stains and left-over makeup on your face and Bucky’s pillow clutched against your chest. 

------------

Bucky ambles into the bar, sliding onto a stool with sullen eyes, ordering a shot of vodka before mumbling “Keep em coming.” 

Throwing his head back, he grimaces as the bitter liquid burns its way down his throat. He knows he can’t get drunk but he’s willing to try. Anything to stop feeling like this.

The old barkeep leans on the bar behind him, looking at Bucky with an evaluating stare. 

“What was her name?” He questions gently after a moment of silence.

“Wha- How did you know?” Bucky looks up in surprise and pain, his forearms resting on the bar, holding another shot.

“Son, you can’t hide the look of love gone wrong.”

Tossing back another, Bucky looks in the shot glass like it holds all the answers before whispering your name, his voice breaking. “Did you ever love someone?” He asks brokenly.

The older man chuckles lightly at this. “I did, still do.” He holds up his left hand as proof.  “Do you wanna know the secret to love?” He asks, stepping closer.

“Why not, it’s not like I could lose anything else,” Bucky says dryly, taking yet another shot.

“Sometimes love doesn’t last and you have to let it go… but sometimes you have to fight for it. And it’s up to you to decide which you’re gonna do. So which is it?”

-----------------------

I hope you liked it! please let me know what you think!! 

Send an ask if you would like to be added to a taglist!

Permanent tag list: (OPEN)

@lovesmesomehiddles @saiyanprincessswanie @kind-sober-fullydressed @remibarnes22 @starspangledseb @angelinathebook @star-spangled-beard-burn @itsunclebucky @teenagereadersciencenerd @chaotic-fae-queen @bugsbucky @cap-n-stuff

Crackheads:

@buckys-other-punk @hermionesalvatore84 @chaoticpete @cheeky-foxx @babygurlbarnes @msgreenverse @maddeningmentalmess @mmm-tatre-tots @js3639 @peterpanfromlemonland @bonky-and-steeb @c-emma098 @bonky-and-steeb @imaspecialpersonwhoneedshelp 

[hueningkai]

check in tag! // tagged by @mari-kigold and @halohyuka thank you!

1. why did you choose your url?

because I am beomkai trash... I wish I could have the beomkai url but alas gyukai is what we have. I really like it though and I will never change it unless I acquire one I really want.

2. any side blogs? if you have them name them and why you have them.

@shunmatsuoka - anime/cartoon driven mostly as well as cute things! shun matsuoka is one of my all time fave characters and the fact it was available? wild. tumblr must have released it because it used to be taken! just a lil fun fact there~

@byeonggkwan is my a.c.e sideblog!

and @bbenpincus is not a sideblog, but my other main blog dedicated to jurassic park! if I’m not on here I am probably over there crying about dinos

@seungkis is my enhypen sideblog!

@mcndnetwork run by me and miiko

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

for 10 years! but I’ve had this blog since ... December? I think.

4. do you have a queue tag?

normally it’s “can’t queue see me?” but lately it’s "q: hiatus!"

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

I originally made it as a general blog bc I wanted to move away from twitter (I went from tumblr to twitter back to tumblr) and then I was like nah imma make it all kpop lollllll 

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp?

it’s BEOMGYUUUU but it’s going to change to seungmin!

7. why did you choose your header?

because beomkai is law in this household. also I’m excited for the comeback.

8. what's your post with the most notes?

I’m pretty sure it’s my beomgyu x emojis post!

9. how many mutuals do you have?

I guess most of the people I follow are my mutuals!! also a side note but I struggle to keep up with all of my notifs and sometimes don't always follow people immediately! pls don't be discouraged. shoot me some asks and chances are I'll follow you 💗💗💗

10. how many followers do you have?

1,110

11. how many people do you follow?

514

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

yeah that’s my life in a nutshell ajsldjsk

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

waaay too often

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

nope guys can u imagine me in a fight? ludicrous

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

nobody should be guilt tripped into reblogging something. it is entirely up to you what you put on your blog.

16. do you like tag games?

yes!!

17. do you like ask games?

I do but also I am bad at coming up with responses and I have short term memory so idk why I join in sometimes bc I always get anxiety about my responses not being good enough ... so if you see me editing my asks that's why eep

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

um all of them?!! but I know @yeonbins is pretty huge in moablr 🥰

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

yes I have a crush on my very beautiful girlfriend -> @polargyu

20. tags?

I tag @seongjuncore @scintillasofbeomgyu @jaehyukkies @inhypen @heeseunq @takatamashi @jjinan @yjunies @soppa and anyone else who wants to! oh sam and vivi you can count the above tags as your tag! and if ya'll don't want to do this that's fine too 💕

[jbbuckybarnes]

We need to talk...

I knew that this topic of interactions will come up again, because it has never been talked all the way through, so I had this drafted for a while. So much of this old draft still resonated with this permanently unfinished discussion that I just had to edit it and post it, because I feel like it has to be said and put into one post. We can’t keep starting this conversation and then make it so dramatic that there is no conclusion or compromise. The only reason this time is more mellow is because people have better standards for this stuff due to a pandemic going on. This is written for the MCU fandom, but I’ve seen this go down in different fandoms, so here we go:

Things that are NOT at fault for readers not interacting:

The Readers. Should be clear after asking them again and again. And nothing changing. The readers at large are not at fault for a couple people being demanding or hateful. Neither are they at fault for this website and other social medias automatically putting writers at a disadvantage. They do their best with the time they have in their life (just like writers). And after asking them over months to try and reblog more and not much changing, it should be obvious that it isn’t where the problem lies. At least not 95% of it. NOW:

Things that ARE at fault for readers not interacting:

Pushing them, thinking they owe you stuff, while you tear other writers down saying that nobody owes them stuff. That happens time and time again. To me, to friends, to writers I check in with. Don't expect community to come to you when you don't come to them.

Not putting anon asks off when demands and hate get too much. It’s literally THAT easy when people get nasty. It’s sad for the nice anons, but they will understand. Save your mental health! Save the mental health of people reading that hate on their dash. I don’t know how many people constantly answering to hate I have unfollowed and I’m sure people have unfollowed me for doing the same.

Ego and hypocrisy. You can't say numbers aren't a problem and then say they are. In the same post. AND then also deny it later in some of the cases we’ve seen in recent months. Yes, that happened. In several fandoms where this topic comes up semi-regularly. And that might also be the reason people are tired of this stuff and speak out against it.

The fact Tumblr is only used approximately twice a year by most people. And has a shitty tag system. And a shitty algorithm. You are at an automatic disadvantage.

The fact some of you can't understand that 3-5% of your following interacting is a good and normal rate on pretty much all social media. The bigger you get in followers, the bigger the gap gets between followers and interaction (and demand and hate). There are literal statistics on that. 1% interaction at 10k is still good for a platform you have no power over!

The fact some of the people here call anons *haters* for pointing out that you interact w the same 10 people, making that speace seem excluding, when it's literally true what those people say!? Nothing wrong with only support the same 10 people on your blog, but then don't say that you practice what you preach (cause you don’t). You can’t demand more interaction when you don’t interact more yourself. That is how it works, for anyone, not just people of a certain follower count. If I reblog more fics, my blog gets more clout. Logical conclusion. Works for everyone. You have no time for that? Then don’t expect more back. It’s called SOCIAL media for a damn reason.

Telling people asking for Tumblr advice to interact more to make new friends but being the most defensive/indifferent person once they talk to you in DMs. Yes, that keeps happening and I know it from either my own experience or from others sharing their experiences with me. It’s kinda sad. It’s more of a minor factor in people not interacting, but I’ve seen it enough to mention it.

Making shitposts and personal posts all day and then saying you don't have the time in your life to interact w peoples' writings. Like, drabbles exist on almost anyone's masterlist. 5 minute read, easy support for a writer that might be losing motivation. Not every work has to be written like a novel to be great as hell or “quality proven.”

Oh, and there hasn't been a MCU movie in a while, making most of our readership probably currently not care about the fandom as much. Especially after Endgame ended up being a total opinion splitter.

Bonus: The misunderstanding that pushing shy readers to interact does the exact opposite. Not to start about the fact that we are in the middle of a pandemic at the moment. That means they may not have time to read and you may not have time to write. Normal. Logical. The same reason lots of people currently don’t publish. Don’t expect anything predictable and controlable out of current times.

Bonus: Check how you connect interactions to self worth and worth/fun of your writing hobby. Define what success means for you in this space, otherwise you will never be satisfied. It won’t matter if a post has 1k reblogs, you’ll always want more, because you chase an infinite metric.

Bonus: Maybe take a month to concentrate on community, getting outside of your bubble that you deny but very likely have (I’m not excluding myself from this), and actually improve interactions. Some people seem to have forgotten that when you interact with other writers, they probably interact back. Surprise! Your followers already know your tried and true fanfic friends, they want some new stuff without searching for it. Basic Marketing knowledge, know what your audience wants. If you do this for the interactions you gotta look at it from a marketing standpoint and not a pure passion standpoint. Oh: And maybe they find you interacting in the notes of someone else’s post and become an active follower. Win-Win-Win situation.

Bonus: Community is a loop, a net of interactions. Some people here have clique behavior, sound defensive and/or simply don't practice what they preach. That is not me or anyone else hating on specific blogs (I’m also no complete exception), it’s people trying to tell you that you can’t ask for shit you don’t practice yourself. Nothing wrong with supporting your friends only, but then don’t go around expecting new people to find your stuff. It’s literally THAT simple. You can’t have both!

Bonus: Ignoring some of the ride or die readers that are already there. Some of the people on here wish they had that and it’s deadass taken it for granted by some. Meanwhile I'm sitting here with Serotonin levels like christmas when someone I know reblogs my stuff and my fic gets some clout. Imma repeat myself: If you do it for the numbers, you gotta look at it more like marketing and less like pure passion.

And again: You are on a social media platform that will always put you at a disatvantage. That is not the readers' fault. It's how social media works at this point. If you want as much interaction as you can without putting in more interaction work yourself, simply share your works on here, AO3 and Wattpad simultaneously. Problem solved.

Bottomline: If you want more love on your work you gotta go beyond what you currently do, since it’s clearly not working for you. Reblog stuff from people you don't know. I don't give a sh*t if it's a 5k or a 100 follower blog. Hell, there is the whole 366 reblog challenge and some of you deadass went on reblogging the same people when that’s not really what this was made for. I, personally, haven't run out of new people to reblog, so this shouldn't be hard. Actually take time to talk to people in DM's, it takes 10 minutes in the evening to write a few people a message asking how they are or sending a cute gif. If you want stuff, you have to give it. Not leave it. People have come to me before, telling me "the community doesn't owe you stuff", no, they don't, but they do owe if they wanna be owed something back or even demand to be owed something back. Community is about back and forth. You give, you get. It's work, cause it's a big hobby. If you don't have time, that's cool, but then don't be sad about lower interaction. It’s logical that low activity from you leads to low activity from others in the long run, unless you do something worldshakingly new. You don't wanna look beyond a circle of friends or your go-to writers much? That's fine, but don't be upset about barely new people interacting cause they feel excluded or simply don’t find your work because of the same people seeing the same people reblogging the same works. What's not fine is not seeing how readers are NOT THE PROBLEM.

I haven’t talked to a single person about this that DIDN’T find the posts surrounding it demanding and completely ignoring the arguments some others had...repeatedly. Every single time it came up. Not just once but time and time again, whenever this topic comes up. You want interaction? Interact. You don’t want hate? Don’t give it a platform. As harsh as that sounds, I’ve never felt better on this platform since I put anon asks off, even when I miss the nice anons. They probably understand. PS: Again, this was written a while ago and edited to fit into a more general context now. I hope people can discuss this in a civil, non-judgmental way, because that is how I tried to write this. This is not again a specific person or group, it’s pinpointing what I see repeating for two years on this platform now, in all corners. I’d also like to mention that we are still in a pandemic and lives have never looked so vastly different, so you can’t demand anything normal in this very not normal time. Even if you do it all right, your interactions dropped in the pandemic cause people likely stay away form this platform for mental health reasons. There is so many layers to look at, these clearly aren’t all, but I hope it makes some people think about what and when they complain. Numbers will never satisfy you, they will always leave you wanting more if you don’t know why you do what you do and for what. Anyway: Be nice to each other and me in the notes in case this gets shared! No drama please! Ignore any grammar and typo mistakes, lol. Love ya!

[ukiyoexo]

hi can i ask for tips on how to start posting my fics on tumblr?

first, the fact that you want tips from me makes me feel all warm inside like ahhhh? like me??

i think to give the best tips, it really depends on what part of posting fics you struggle with, you know? like is it the confidence to post, or what aesthetic to go for, or how to tag etc. but i’ll just give you some general tips and if you have another question feel completely free to send another ask! <3

first, you just gotta go for it. write something, anything, and be like: you know what, imma post this! we tend to be pretty self critical of our work so even if you think it’s a shitty piece of writing, i highly doubt it.

when it comes to aesthetic, scroll through some of your favourite blogs and take inspo from them. putting three aesthetic images at the top is pretty common and in my opinion, posts that look well put together always look more enticing to read. you can find aesthetic pics on pinterest by searching [insert] aesthetic. you can search by general vibes so like soft or dark, or you can by colour, or even more specific like coffee or angel etc. you can also make banners by using photos from pinterest, editing shape and size and adding stickers of filters on picsart and then adding text on phonto (i also download fonts from dafont).

tagging posts is by far the hardest part of publishing fics. tumblr sure does love to screw content creators over. how to tag fics can also vary depending on the fandom. in kpop you generally want to tag with the idols name or group name and then fluff, angst and/or smut. then just the idol and group. also putting [idol] imagine or drabbles or social media au etc. again just checking your fave blogs and seeing how they tag things will help you

tip for when you tag a post as well, once it’s published, search up one of the tags you put (tumblr normally only acknowledges the first fifteen) and check whether it comes up in recent posts for that tag. if you’re a newer blog then tumblr may think you’re a bot and not show you’re posts so either delete and repost or post some random things over a space of a couple days until they start showing up in tags.

depending on what you plan on writing another important thing to do before you even post is to make a masterlist and some guidelines (this part is more important if you’re gonna write smut). having a masterlist set up means people are able to find your works way easier and having guidelines helps if you ever want to open requests

IMPORTANT REMINDER: you are not required to take requests or write ones that you recieve. if someone sends you a request you are not comfortable with or simply don’t have inspo for or vibe with, you do not have to write it! it is you’re blog and you write what you want. you writing requests is just something extra you are doing and is literally you making personalised content for someone for free so it is not a must.

another important reminder is that it’s also completely ok to take breaks, no matter how long. it’s ok to post one short drabble and not post for another three months, take you’re time, this is a hobby not a job and you should enjoy it, even if writer’s block is kicking your ass (which is also annoyingly common)

to solve writers block or to get general ideas i recommend taking inspo from even the most simple of things in life. like little wholesome moments or just the things you’ve been enjoying recently eg writing about playing your current favourite game against an idol and winning for the fifth time in the row. it’s also fun to switch up the fandoms you write for if you feel like it. i write for kpop, ice hockey and mcyt so there’s really no limit!

if you want to link posts to others, here’s a guide one of my first ever mutuals made me back when i was first getting into fic writing. here’s a guide i just made bc i realised that one is kinda outdated.

that actually brings me onto the point of making fellow writer mutuals can be really great when it comes to posting. having that lil support system of fellow writers to talk to, to bounce ideas off, to collab with, etc can really help!

now, final tip i can currently think of (again send an ask if you need more specific advice) is read fics! i barely read fanfiction nowadays (ok literally not all anymore) but when i was first getting into writing, it really helped. reading how other people write will hands down help you figure out your own style of writing and grow as a writer overtime.

oh that also reminds me, if you take inspo from someone else’s writing, it’s greatly appreciated if you ask the op if you can write something based off their work etc, and also even tag them in the piece. of course this doesn’t apply to general ideas, like there’s probably a million college social media aus, but if it’s something specific, it doesn’t hurt to ask

[bobasheebaby]

Hard For Me- Cordonian Ruby chapter ten

Pairing: Olivia x Bastien; Ruby Rys x Beau Larkin

Word count: 1,330

Warnings: none really, it’s a tad angsty with anxiety mixed in

Summary: The group leaves Texas.

A/N: Okay, I think we can be back for at least a few weeks. I started chapter eleven and am still working like crazy on the fluffy ABC’s so hopefully I can get back to Thursday postings. Thanks for bearing with me!

A/N2: A major thanks @sirbeepsalot for all your graping, prereading, editing, and telling me when to let go. I love you boo! Thank you to my snippet reader @loveellamae who screamed appropriately.

Series warnings: character death, blood, surgical procedures done by non medical personnel, may go NSFW in the future. May contain gun violence, knife violence, threats, not sure how dark this will go. By requesting to be tagged you acknowledge you are at least 18 years of age.

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I own Ruby, Galen, Lovett, and Beau, I’m borrowing Bastien and Olivia from PB.

Leaving Texas would be the easy part. Even with the tearful goodbyes and the knot that formed in Ruby’s chest as she said goodbye to Beau’s family, she knew there was a much harder battle looming ahead.

Everything in Cordonia was unknown.

They were headed across the ocean as prepared as they could possibly be; they tried to remain hopeful, but Ruby couldn’t help the worry that grew in her gut the further from Texas they flew.

She’d questioned herself unmercifully if she was being selfish by dragging Beau away and into an uncertain future.

Ruby shifted uncomfortably in her seat, careful not to disturb her husband. Her thumb grazed her rings -- that was one new title she didn’t question for a moment.

She was born a queen but was that the role she was meant to fill? Would her title of queen be long-lived, or would a vendetta she inherited cause her to lose all that she held close?

She let out a frustrated breath. The uncomfortable cramped seats only compounded her frustration. All the moves across the country didn’t prepare her for the journey across the ocean in a plane. Normally she’d fall asleep with her head leaning against the window, today sleep evaded her. Her mind was far too busy as she went over every worry and fear she had.

She attempted to stretch out her long legs. Even sitting in the backseat with both her brothers she had more space than she did in the moment. What she would give to simply be heading to a new state instead of across the sea.

She hated the uncertainty that gnawed at her stomach. She was used to planning and feeling confident in her skills bringing her victory. All she felt was unavoidable fear. Fear that she would lose the only family she’d ever known. Fear that she would be met with an impossible question that led to a more impossible choice.

She was still so young, her life just starting. Was she simply rushing towards the end? Could she come out the other side of this no worse for the wear and triumphant or was she doomed to become barely more than a footnote?

“Everything okay RuRu?” Beau’s voice was low and laced with sleep.

Ruby internally sighed, she was trying to not disturb anyone. Her eyes scanned over the darkened cabin, everyone else had managed to drift off into a peaceful slumber, even her parents were asleep.

If only her mind would silence and allow her a few hours of reprieve.

She turned, her faint smile barely visible in the low light. “I’m fine,” she forced her voice to stay sure and even. If Beau thought something was bothering her he wouldn’t allow himself to slip back asleep. He’s lost enough today, he should be allowed to sleep.

Guilt once more clouded her heart and mind. She could only hold onto the tiny glimmer of hope that she and Beau would soon return to his family and Texas.

“Everything will be fine, I believe in you.” He slipped his hand into hers.

Five years later and she could still be caught completely by surprise at the way he could easily read her. She wanted to believe him so badly, for the first time in her life she lacked trust in herself.

So many lives were counting on her to conquer Bradshaw and return Cordonia to its former glory. Her own family’s lives hung in the balance. Never before had any opponent made her question her own ability.

She only hoped Bradshaw wouldn’t also be the one to make her face eternal defeat ...

- - -

Ruby regarded the street lined with Parisian boutiques. The quaint shops selling anything from pastries, elaborate gowns, to antiques. She couldn’t contain her surprise at how ordinary the street appeared.

Her mind had always conjured images of cobblestone paths, with colorful awnings and tables overlooking the street.

Instead of cobblestones, she was met with paved street, nothing as magical as she had once imagined. The tables were still nestled in front of eateries, and the awnings were colorful enough, though if she hadn’t known she was in Paris she could have almost imagined she was in any other city.

“Mama, are you sure we have time?” Ruby was thankful for the prolonged layover, the ten and a half hour flight preferable to the nearly thirteen-hour it could have been, but wasn’t shopping a frivolous use of their time?

She yearned to be carefree and experience the city of lights at a leisurely pace. To be walking hand in hand with Beau down the streets, nothing more than a couple in love. The memories they could create while exploring the beautiful city.

She could wish on a thousand shooting stars and it wouldn’t change the facts.

This wasn’t a vacation. This was merely a pit stop on the way to Cordonia. A layover used to reconnect with more allies and gather intel that would hopefully aid her in freeing her country from a tyrant.

Perhaps Beau and I can return.

While her future remained uncertain it was essential she held tightly to any shred of hope. While all her plans could vanish in a puff of smoke in an instant they were necessary for her to believe she would succeed in vanquishing her enemies.

“This shopping trip is a necessity I assure you,” Olivia replied as she led Ruby into a lavish boutique.

Ruby instantly felt overwhelmed and out of place as she caught sight of gorgeous gowns. The knot in her stomach grew as she scanned the gowns, the lush fabrics, beading, and lace were so far from her usual tastes. Is this what will be expected of me?

“Ruby, breathe. I know this is new for you, I assure you we will be able to find you a suitable gown that you will feel comfortable in.”

She wanted to believe her mother, but surrounded by gowns of silk and tulle she felt like she was drowning in a world she didn’t know.

“What exactly am I looking for?” Ruby asked as she straightened her back and pushed her doubt down. She needed to act strong and sure, the feeling would soon follow.

“I’m sure you remember Papa and I telling you about the social season,” Ruby nodded for Olivia to continue. “Bradshaw has been carrying on his own version of the tradition, instead of celebrating our country, he means to break us.

The start of the social season is next week. All of the court is expected so it will be easy enough for us to slip in.” Olivia turned towards the dresses, “now let’s find you something that tells Bradshaw you are the wrong royal to fuck with.”

- - -

Ruby hung the garment bag in the closet, her fingers grazing the thick dark fabric.

Her mama had been correct that they would find a gown that made her feel like the queen she was.

She had been surprised to find something that was so perfectly her amidst all the silk and yards of tulle.

She gently placed the bag containing her new shoes and the ornate masks for both her and Beau on the ground.

She turned as she heard an unfamiliar voice mingling with those of her parents and Drake in from the main room of their suite. Ignore their stares, I may look like them but I’m me. They just don’t know how to react.

She steeled herself for the gaping looks and stuttering that would surely come as she stepped into the room.

“Ruby,” Olivia greeted, “this is Maxwell Beaumont, and … where is Hana?”

Maxwell rocked on his feet, “Uh, Hana sends her regards. She wanted to join me, but wasn’t able to leave the country.”

“Why not?” Olivia’s sharp voice rang through the still room.

Maxwell shot Drake a questioning look, “didn’t you tell them?”

“Tell us what?”

Olivia's stern tone nearly gave Maxwell pause. “Hana’s Bradshaw’s mistress.”

Feedback fuels me, please like, comment reblog or send an ask. Feel free to scream, I promise I can take it.

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

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