#A Reader's Guide to Writing
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I'm hardly the first to make this observation, but the problem with many self-proclaimed cozy stories is that they're so scared to take risks, scared to do anything that could make the reader even slightly uncomfortable, because being uncomfortable isn’t very cozy. Characters lack in flaws and messiness; conflict is lackluster or quickly resolved or avoided altogether; a darker moment must always be followed by a peptalk, never lingered on; moral ambiguity is eschewed, because anything else would be problematic and messy. If a main character has flaws it’s always those of the good victim, someone who needs to heal and be validated but not grow and be challenged. Challenge, of character or reader, is anathema.
As I'm playing Stray, I'm struck by the thought that this is quite possibly the coziest piece of media I've ever experienced. You're playing as a little kitty cat. You’re carrying around a tiny robot companion in a backpack. Your enemies are tiny white blobs called zorks. There are game mechanics to meow and scratch up people's walls and furniture and knock paint cans off shelves and take naps. The pacing rarely rushes you, rather actively encourages you to slow down. You can stop and listen to a guy play guitar, or look for flowers to gift someone, or take a nap on a cushion while beautiful scenery full of plants and fairy lights roll by.
But it’s also a game set in the ruins of a near dead world. The cute blobs will eat you alive. The robot you're carrying is an uploaded mind earnestly struggling through an existential crisis and mourning an entire species. Under the plants and the fairy lights is garbage and rust and buildings falling apart. There’s no sunlight. There are creepy eyes watching you in the sewers. There’s classism and oppression and the downfall of man.
And through it all, the robots who inherited the world are working so hard to find pockets of hope and happiness. They paint and play music and play games and dance and grow plants and create cozy little homes for themselves. They resist for the sake of freedom and autonomy, they create an entire language, they dream of a world most think they'll never see.
This dichotomy of dark and light is something I see often in (better) cozy media. Dungeon Meshi is a fun cozy adventure where they make delicious food and talk about self-care. It's also about grief and the inevitability of death and the impacts of social inequalities. The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet is a cozy found family road trip in space; it’s also about the difficulties of understanding each other across cultural barriers and the massive ramifications when we refuse to do so. Legends and Lattes is basically a dnd coffeshop au; it’s also about struggling to find happiness and purpose and self-worth after a life of violence, not knowing if you're able to successfully achieve anything but bloodshed. And All the Stars is full of found family and pastries and characters just hanging out; all of this happens as they're hiding and fleeing from invading aliens who see them as nothing but a resurce to be used. One of my favorite episodes of critical role is the beach episode of c2, where they basically just hang out; this happens soon after they buried their friend who died trying to save them, as they're trying to figure out who they are and what they want after his loss.
And that’s the thing, isn't it? Any story that is uniformly the same thing all the way through ends up as bland. A grimdark story that never offers respite or moments of hope will numb you to the horrors, removing their bite. A cozy story that offers nothing to be struggled against, nothing for which cozy moments and aesthetics is a break, lacks impact. A story needs ups and downs, a rhythm of misery and hope.
#nella talks#stray#i finished the game today! really enjoyed it but missed like half the memories lol#so probably gonna replay it soon-ish with a guide or smth to find them all#anyway this is my guide to a writing a good cozy story:#do not shy away from darkness and conflict and messiness. jusy don’t make it the central focus#zoom in on how characters rest and heal and forgive and reach out to each other. slow down and let readers and characters breathe#show exactly what the coziness is a respite from and how and why it matters
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How to comment 101
A fandom is the subculture inherent to a group of fans. It touches anything related to the field of predilection of such a group of people and is organized or created by these same people. And, like everything that comes from people, it is alive and requires exchanges to continue to exists.
People who receive no comments have often and at length express how lonely it can feel to be shouting alone in the void and how discouraging such silence can be.
I have found after asking around that readers aren’t unwilling to comment, but mainly don’t have the energy or know what to say.
Some readers have also expressed a fear of annoying the author, as they are clumsy with words, or feeling intimidated in front of an author who has such a talent with words that the reader's own words feel too embarrassing. Or not feeling that their own five word sentence is worth the bother.
Every word matters.
Every comment is worth its writing to the author.
I refer you to this post if you doubt the importance and impact of comments on fanfics.
To help those willing to comment, I have done a very modest survey of roughly 20 persons, writers and readers alike, and here is what I have come up with.
For writers:
Write in your notes, at the end of the fic, clearly what type of comment you do not want.
Clearly stating your limits and preferences helps readers who are uncertain or not very verbose to write in a relaxed way.
If they do not have the anxiety of offending, vexing or annoying the author, they will be more comfortable and therefore more inclined to write.
If you have repeated commenters, try to reply to their comments, even with just a few words. Some people who do not receive replies to any of their comments take the lack of response to mean the author is not reading comments at all, feel discouraged and stop commenting in turn.
If you do read the comments, but don’t want to reply for whatever reason, do say so at the end of the fic, in the notes, so that readers know what to expect and not be disappointed.
For readers:
Do:
About the story:
You can write about a particular line that you liked, the themes, parallels with canon or within the story, the characterisation, a character’s exploration, a/several character’s motivation, a/several character’s mindset/thinking/emotional reaction, a/several characters’ interaction, the plot, the action happening, the worldbuilding, emotions within the fic, subtext, pacing...
If you liked everything and are overwhelmed on how to narrow it down, you can just say exactly that. “I loved everything!”
You can also focus on pointing out just one moment, one line, one specific thing and why you liked them, specifically. What matters is not that you wrote a novel but that you communicated to the author what made you happy, what you enjoyed.
About you:
What emotions the fic made you feel, what you think is going on in a wip or what you (think you have) figure(d) out, what you are doing in real life while reading the story, afterward, because of it, and/or how the fic impacted your life (yay! motivation to make art!), how the fic is meaningful on a personal level because x, y, z, what it made you think of, like another fic, a book, a song, a movie, what subject/fact it prompted you to discover more of…
How:
You can write an essay, a prose, or some serious, meaningful, impactful words but you can also joke with the author as long as you stay mindful or polite. A lot of authors have said they love when people make jokes or break the fourth wall.
Unsure about your sense of humor? Here is an example: do not write "I hate you! How could you do this to me!” Write "How could you do this? The betrayal! die offscreen.”
Making a parody of what is going on with the characters with a few lines can be funny! Keep it positive. Not everyone has the same degree of sarcasm. But levity and good humor are always welcomed.
Small fics vs longer fics:
Emojis, keysmashing and incoherent yelling are very often correct comments for small fics or drabbles. (Unless otherwise specified.)
They are also loved in longer fics, (unless otherwise specified,) but people who have been writing a story for literal years appreciate you taking at least five minutes to say a bit more than that.
Try to go through all the “about the fic” and “about you” points above, methodically, and choose just two or three of them. Then write just one sentence per point.
If you really don't know what to say, look at other people's comments. Sometimes, you will recognise something you liked too or that you thought was really good. It can help and be the starting point of your own comment.
Long WIPs:
For long fics that you follow while they are being written, people have said they have at first a lot of enthusiasm for commenting, but find it harder and harder to know what to say as the number of chapters accumulate, and so does the number of comments they feel obligated to give in turn.
Please, keep commenting! Love keeps the writers motivated and helps creativity. It’s like shouting in the void and getting a high five back.
Even one line about something specific (a dialogue bit, a reaction, a plot maneuver) can make an author happy.
Writers are not really looking for length or details. They are looking for care. If you read something you liked, just point out what you enjoyed. That's engagement enough.
Comments aren't really about the act of a compliment. They are about the shared joy of a fandom or a ship or a character.
Example: “'X character diving headfirst into the sea like that is so like him!”
It’s good. It’s fun. It’s nice.
Some people have said to “save” a chapter, give a kudo and say “looking forward to reading this when I have time!” and wait until they do have time and energy to comment more at length, sometimes two or three chapters at the same time.
It let the writers know their fic is still being read. You just have to be mindful to not let months go by, otherwise, it goes back to leaving the author the impression they invested hours, weeks, months, into something no one interacts with. You can alternate strategies, lengthy comments, short comments, and commenting on several chapters saved.
If all else fails, go back to the tried and true. Choose one of the points above, choose just two or three of them and then write just one sentence per point.
If you are not a native speaker:
Google can help with the bare minimum. It's not great, but it lays the foundations. Write what you think in google translate and the translation will help guide your answer. You can always ask for help from someone else or warn the author that the fic’s language is not your native language, if you are unsure if your words come off in a tone not intended.
At the start of your comment, say “I am not a native speaker”.
Do not apologize. It’s not necessary. Just provide context. Use your words. Be clear.
Remember:
The writer isn't what they write. They do not necessarily headcanon what they write, nor do they necessarily approve of it in real life. Be mindful to not approve or disprove of x, y, z going on in the fic as if they do. You do not know that.
It’s not about the length or the wording or the quality of your comments. Of course authors love that. But what they love most of all is to hold hands, jump up and down with you and squee and gush about the fandom, ship or character.
It’s about the sharing of the joy.
Don’t:
Do not ask for another chapter and for the author to finish a fic.
Do not threaten the author to put their fics in an AI if they do not finish the fic.
Do not say "I didn't like it" or "I liked but not that" or "It would have been better if x, y, z." If you want to talk about what you didn’t like, whether it’s part or all of the story, discuss it with willing friends. The author is not responsible for you reading something you didn’t enjoy (how it made you feel) and persevering.
Do not “offer” to correct typos, grammar, vocabulary, facts, canon facts, characterisation, ect. unless you know the author and know they are fine with it or they say so explicitly in the notes.
Do not make demands. Do not.
Like that tumblr op said, “this is not the bespoke zone.” This is off-the rack. If the free suit is not to your liking, look for another free suit rather than demand to speak to the manager for "adjustments."
Tags are not owed to you. Ao3 is not a safe zone. Not everyone agrees on what degree of content merits each tag. Or what qualifies for a tag. So, if you found a fic that was more angsty than you expected and it broke your heart, comment on a part that was good and didn't make you sad, without saying you want a happy ending to the angst fic that was written for angst purpose. Off-the rack, remember?
Exemple:
"I found x,y,z to be upsetting. Would you consider tagging it?"
Vs "Your work is totally x,y,z triggery. You ought to tag it."
Vs "Hey, you do know some people find x,y,z, triggery, right?!? Because they do! So tag it!"
One of those answers is correct. The others aren't. No demands in the comments.
Your emotional well being while reading fic is your responsibility. If your expectations have been disappointed, do not say so. Talk about a point that was positive for you. If your expectations have been exceeded, do share!
Also, if you're mad, I have found that it helps to write your comment, leave it to decant, and wait a week or so to see what it looks like when you're in a different emotional mindset.
Some elements of fics can be very upsetting unexpectedly. It is not the responsibility of the writer to answer that. Nor comments are the place for it.
Once some time has passed, if you still want to talk about it, try to communicate in a way that is neither demanding nor negative. If you can't, talk about it with someone who is not the author.
My own personal opinion:
It can be so easy to focus on the fic and your own inner imaginary garden/cinema, that we sometimes forget to switch from "inner life" to "outer life" and exchange actively with people on both sides of the fence.
But it can also add so much more to the experience <3
Clear communication is always good. Even if you disagree. At least you know where you stand.
Say thank you. Fanfics are a gift. You have been given one. Say thank you.
#comments#commenting#how to comment#comment 101#ao3#ao3 comments#fic writer#fic reader#comment culture#fandom#fandom etiquette#fandom culture#fandom interactions#fandom things#fanfics#fanfic#fic#fics#writing commentary#writing comment#guiding comment#comment guide#comments guide#comment tips#life tips
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When in Monaco | CL16 x Reader
pairing . . . charles leclerc x reader
summary . . . During a visit to Monaco, you meet up with Charles, who offers to show you his favorite hidden spots around the city. As you explore together, you can’t tell if it’s the scenic beauty or Charles himself slowly making you fall in love
request . . . no!!
warnings . . . none!
faceclaim . . . N/A
alexavia yaps . . . !PART OF MINI FIC SERIES! yurr this was supposed to be the last fic im writing for mini fic series but i decided to extend it!! hope you guys like it!! i love this sm tho it's my baby fr

. . . "Are you actually planning to show me around, or are you just making up random stuff as we go?"
Charles grins, walking backward on the cobbled streets of Monaco, hands shoved into his pockets. "Hmm… Maybe a little bit of both."
You narrow your eyes at him, a smile tugging on your lips. "I knew it."
He laughs, motioning for them to follow as he turns a corner. "I could take you to all those fancy places, but that's not the real Monaco."
"Oh? So what is the real Monaco?" You grin, raising an eyebrow at him.
"I'll show you 'round."
And so, the tour begins.
Not the tourist spots, not the picture perfect locations you see all over social media; his Monaco.
The tiny coffee shop nestled between the high hills where the owner greets him like family. The quiet view point where he used to sit for hours, thinking. The hidden alley tucked between grand apartments and designer shops where he and his brothers would race on bikes as kids.
It's quite different from what you expected. More personal. More him.
As the evening sets in, you find yourself by the water, watching the city lights reflect off the waves. There's no grand declaration, no overly romantic moment; just Charles leaning on the railing beside you, arms brushing, eyes flickering between the view and your face.
You could see the way his eyes shone with a certain gleam when he glanced at you, his cheeks slightly pink from the chill ocean breeze. There was a small smile tugging at his lips, as if he was making jokes to himself.
"Do you like it?" he asks, voice softer now.
You glance at him, at the way the golden lights make his features even sharper, at the way the sea breeze ruffles his hair, messing it up slightly.
Behind you two, the backdrop of high apartment buildings between the green hills bordering France shines brightly under the black sky, creating a beautiful view.
"Yeah," you say, barely above a whisper. "I think I do."
Maybe it's Monaco.
Maybe it's just him.
taglist. . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey ,, @eloriis ,, @linnygirl09 (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)
#alexavia writes 🍒#cl16 x reader#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#x reader#charles leclerc#cl16#charles leclerc fic#oneshot#fic#fanfic#f1 oneshot#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc oneshot#f1 oneshots#f1 fanfic#ferrari#scuderia ferrari#tour guide#charles#f1 racing#monaco#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#x y/n#x you
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it always makes me smile when scholars in academic writing refer to the hypothetical reader with she/her. "let the reader experience the battle as if it was unfolding right before her eyes". "a reader accepting her own historicity". "gives the reader the impression that she is following the events". "when a student is asked to write an essay on the aeneid she will normally be encouraged to read some modern criticism". like yeah i see you. i know you did that for me.
#in my own writing i tend to talk about the 'audience' or 'readers' with plural 'they'#but both of these books are more interested in the singular and solitary reader rather than the collective audience/readership#(and predate the widespread acceptance of singular 'they' by publishers' style guides)#mine
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100% perfect
GN!Esper!Reader x Y!Guide!Male OC
Note: hello im back. A lot happened, I had an anxiety attacks, my mind has been having a lot of bad thoughts, my dog passed away last year—three months ago... I didn't have a lot of time for me to write since I've been grieving for my dog's death up until now but I'm okay, I'm healing... Anyway, my writings is rusty and probably didn't improve. I know some of you guys really tried to reach out through ask and I'm kind of happy. Thanks. For now I'll give this to piece of one shot for a new year. This Esper x Guide thing I made might not be accurate. All i know is they are similar to Alpha x Omega shits except the curse thing on espers. This might be cringe. i will try to edit it. I will try to update the other oc's as well.
-also please do not do this, i do not condone anything in this story. This is purely fiction and be kept as a fiction.
CW: implied se(g)s, implied suicide(mention), yandere, drugging, manipulation, dynamic power, etc.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"(Y/n)!!" A ginger haired male rush up to you, hugging you by the time you step on the greenery field of the university. Pastel blue of sweater was the first thing you see before you were envelope by a hug. You tense when his arms coils around your waist, hearing him breathe out of relief as he buries his face on your left shoulder.
You don't know what to do everytime he does this. There were eyes everywhere and it doesn't seem like he is bothered by it.
Of course why would he?
Micah Clarke is not only popular and prettiest student in this campus. He is known for being famous as the youngest champion of ice skating 3 years ago, defending his title until now. His luscious natural lips, his hazel eyes that could make you halt on what you were doing, the type to make yourself give him a third glance because he is so pretty. So pretty that you sometimes envy his glassy skin, igniting a insecurities to yourself. His soft curly ginger hair and freckled face that matches his glossy alabaster complexion. The type of guy who prefers cute, pastel than those typical guys—omg so unique(lol)—that always choose to wear dark or dull colors. Everyone finds him attractive including yourself. Everything about him screams beauty and elegance. He can hook up with men and women if he wants to but he chose not to.
From what you heard, he is a rare S-rank Guide. Most espers would try hook up with him atleast make a contract with someone like him. He would rather spend his time painting his nails, crochetting, organising or planning his time, practicing his amazing skills on ice skating, or rather do hundred routine for his skincare than hook up with other people. Quirky, Alright. Still, this doesn't stop people from wanting to go between his pants and his fame.
To people he is a swan. He is epitome of perfection.
You always see him pass by to your department, always getting called by the principal,inviting him to do a photoshoot, using his face as an advertisment for upcoming enrollent or any event inside the university. You never dwell yourself to swoon on to him whenever he pass by. Fine, you do like him. But not the kind of like where you are romantically interest to him. You just admire his looks, his talents and that's about it. You just don't like he was too friendly, there's nothing wrong with that but invading someone else personal bubble space—and the feeling of shame on yourself for being near someone kind as him—as if you two are already close is not your thing to a person you rarely talk to. Unlike him, you are the quite the opposite when it comes to socialising,You like being alone, you aren't anti-social, atleast, that's what you think you are. You are confident by yourself. An Introvert.
You just like the silence. It eases your deteriorating mind—(stupid esper curse) Somewhere peace and quiet,reading books, listening to music—gosh laufey and wave to earth and even (favorite singer/composer) always sound so good, spending time with your pets, to drown out insanity voices piling up in your head. Although you just have a few friends, you love to be alone. You once dream about getting a job. To work hard and earn a good money, once you have enough money. You would spend it to buy a house and lot somewhere away from the city and nearby the countryside with a small farm. Letting your family and friends to visit you time to time in occassions. Where you can spend the rest of your life alone and happy. A dream that would be come true if only you didn't awakened as an esper after you reach 18.
As for the guy who has the entire school and other people folded for him. He is choosing you to lend his attention, to a person who doesn't like attention. So why was he talking to someone who is a nobody like a B-rank Esper like you? The only interaction you had with him before he let himself in your life was when you pull him away from the bridge—you didn't know him at that time—a few exchange greeting—which of course he would be the first one to initiate it—and.... The party....
"N-ngh!!!" A whiny moan escape his lips. Your lips were on his neck drinking each of his soft sound coming from his mouth. The blaring party background can be ignore in the background thanks to the closed lock door of this room the both of you are in.You bite and nip his skin as if animal marking its prey. You didn't care if you torn his shirt, you just needed his guide seep through more, letting your body gone addicted to him. "(Y-y/n)!" The whay he whimpered your name made you groaned. The way every pulse from his body sends his guiding through your body. You were delirious, you can't resist him—
"Missed you! Why aren't you checking my messages? You know I got worried when you didn't reply." He whined, his orbs shows concern and sadness. You look away.
"...hey." you greeted him with quieter tone. You pulled away from the hug not liking the way your body just relaxes everytime his guide powers automatically seeps through your body. You don't hate it but you don't like the way that your body depends on someone just for the sake of being sane and relax.
.... The shame you are feeling over the past few weeks.
You still feel guilty and ashamed about it everytime you remember those memory.
"I... I was busy. Had to do homework. I fell asleep and forgot to charge my phone." You told him. Another excuse. You just put your phone on do not disturb.
You don't have the guts to tell a sweet person like him to leave you alone. Well you did because you are ashamed to face him but he insisted it was never you fault. It always ended up him spending time with you. You can't—you owe him more than anything—Especially now that all people's oggling to you too now that you have the attention of the star. They would try to befriending you so that they could get closer to him.
Gosh, you are getting tired. Why can't people leave you alone?
You missed the old times where you can be at peace. No drama, nowhere near on people who wants attention.
"O-oh. Well that's alright."he chided before grabbing your hands with both of his. His smooth hands rubbing against your ragged callouses. He continued, "well actually I was wondering could you hangout out with me? This friday? I know you don't have schedule at that time since you showed me your schedule—And I want to spend more time with you!" He beamed. His smile was out of this world and it blinds you.
"I uhh .. have a plan on that time..." You words went silent as soon as your eyes sees the smile from his lips slowly fell down to his face."really?" The grip on your hands were getting uncomfortable.
"Umm.... I just wanna be on my home and well—"He gasped, his smile is coming back on his symmetrical face as he clung to your right arm."oh! Why didn't you say so? We can hangout together in your home!"
Giddy, he press his front closer to you which made you feel suffocating. His guide power automatically seeps through you again.
"N-no, Mikah... What I meant to say is I plan to rest, like spend alone on that day. A peace and quiet." You slowly pull away your hand gently from his clinging hands.
You didn't expect he would react like this. Tears are already in the corner of his eyes. His lips quivering. "W-what? Are you saying that I'm boring, I-I'm too loud? Did I do something wrong?"
The people who were eavesdropping at your conversation sent a glare and unwanted resentment towards you.
You quickly shook your head. Your free hand clasping against his clutching ones that is gripping your poor unavailable hand. "No... It's not like that. You didn't do anything wrong.. I just want a me time... You know when... Uhhh before you and I become friends.... I just want to relax by myself.... You're a good friend and a good company but... We've been hanging out for a while... Ummm w-what I'm trying to say is... I want some time to be alone. You... You know what I mean right?"
Micah gave you a blank stare. You were getting uneasy. You bite your inner cheek. Will he lash out? He never seem to be the person who never received a refusal on his entire life. As soon as 2 seconds has passed, you noticed his eyes were akin to sadness. You feel the guilt running up to your spine.
You tried to avoid his gaze looking straight his frowning lips before getting replace by a forced grin. "Oh! I get that! You wish a time for yourself! Self care stuff in all that!"
Your heart beats a little faster in excitement, is he finally leaving you for a bit? You were about to thank him for understanding. He does l—
"B-but!!" He grabbed your hands again.
You internally groan. Does he even know the word no? Of course he don't.
He never had someone says no to him. Everything he request would be at his feet. You can't yell or be rude. That's not in your nature and plus if you done it. His fans would kill you.
"I need to be with you o-on friday! You know... I wanna spend my birthday with you.. P-please? your presence alone is enough a gift for me." He stammers. You blink in surprise. "I-I promise I won't bother you the next day if you really wanna spend t-time for yourself..."
Birthday?
"T-to be honest.... I don't like parties uhmm..." He lick his lips as if the word 'party' is a taboo between the two of you." Especially my birthday parties because a-although people greet me a happy birthday or any party occasion and stuff they never really mean it. They... Always use that as an excuse to use me for my fame or my money that I earned so hard in those competitions... I.. I plan to not throw one b-because m-my family isn't forcing me anymore... I just want to spend my birthday w-with you. Y-you're the only d-decent person who treated me normally."he stammer. You feel a lump on your throat when he says you're a decent. "I... I know... Umm I'm asking to much f-from you and I know... you didn't mean to do that—" he continues to rambles that some of his words can't form a right sentence. You noticed his eyes were in the verge of tears, threatening to drop from his eyes.
"I'm.... Not a decent person." You told him looking away from him, ashamed and hurt were written in your face.Your voice grew quiet but the man Infront catch on what you said, already refering to the 'incident' between the two of you. He bit his lower lips and almost yelled. His face pull out a sad look. It made him look cute if it's from a tears of joy."Y-you are ! You are a decent person! You know it's not your f-fault! You were d-drugged a-and I... I was drunk! W-we both know we weren't in o-our right minds! You never hurted me—!" He starts hiccuping. "You're a-a good person! W-what happened between that night s-should b-be buried! Y-you're a good friend! It's not your fault! It's not your f-fault!" With that he burst into tears.
You didn't expect for him to cry. You panic mentally. What should you do on these type of situations? You pull him for a hug—albeit stiffeningly."Ok... Ok... Don't cry.... I don't like it... When you cry.. I'm sorry." You told him honestly, truthfully this is not the first time he argued about the incident with you.
You still feel ashamed of yourself. You really do.
The party. If only you didn't come to your friend's party. The guilt won't eat you. No matter how many times Micah convinced you that none of it was your fault. You feel like you can't face him. He did say he was also drunk at the time but still... You could have gotten home earlier and didn't force yourself on him.
You cried and apologised so many times from him at that time, swearing you will turn yourself over to the police and never let him see your face again. You saw how his whole body was full of marks, hickeys, and bruises. He look like he got ravage. His clothes were thorn and you wish the drug in your system that time killed you.
Micah's eyes light up and a smirk forming from his lips as he nuzzle his face on your neck, pretending to cry even more. Everything is planned, everything worked for him to get you under his palm. He can feel the guilt eating you.
"... it's okay... Hik... " He sob sneaking in to kiss your neck. You are to busy awkwardly and hesitantly patting his back and hugging him and the man love every second of it.
From the moment you save him from jumping off the bridge, he needed to make you his. Someone who genuinely cares for him from this greedy world is something he needed to treasure.
Oh how he had you wrap around his fingers the moment you accepted that drug-disguise juice from one of his friends offered by the man himself. It's your fault.
It doesn't matter. You're under his palm forever. Everything is 100% perfect.
#yandere#yandere male#yandere oc#yandere lover#yandere x darling#yandere boy x reader#yandere boy#yandere friend#yandere boyfriend#yandere oc x y/n#y/n#darling#yandere guide#esper x guide#gn reader#pretty yandere#pretty boy#yandere oc x you#scara writes oc#yandere oc x reader#oc#yandere male x reader#male yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere oc x gn reader#gender neutral reader#yandere boy x you#yandere pretty boy#yandere ice skater#yandere mal
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Series Synopsis: A series of (mostly) unrelated one shots, featuring Oliver Aiku somehow getting involved with the love lives of various Blue Lock characters — whether he wants to or not.
Chapter Synopsis: After being yelled at one too many times by their strict Ubers teammate, Oliver Aiku enlists Ikki Niko in helping him get Shoei Barou a girlfriend, hoping beyond hope that that’s enough to get the guy to chill out a bit.
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Barou x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 10.8k
Content Warnings: crack fic, barou is also my awkward goat, love at first sight, oliver aiku is such a bitch but he’s funny so it’s kind of okay, reader is kind of an npc in this icl 😓, this is really dumb please don’t judge my writing off of it, everyone is 100% ooc don’t come at me i KNOWWW, split perspectives (it makes sense in the story), everyone gets slandered (mostly by aiku), god bless niko for being chronically online
A/N: there were a decent amt of people who wanted barou’s version plus i felt like writing it so he’s up next!! LMAO it kind of got a bit long just like the sae version and somehow it’s even sillier so…but yeah anyways this is the second entry in “oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls” i hope you all stick around for the rest 🤩‼️
Barou is yelling at them again. Aiku’s not sure what the big deal is this time — so what if Lorenzo spilled spaghetti sauce on the floor? He’s Italian, that’s part of his culture — but if he dares to speak up, Barou will single him out specifically, and then he’ll be treated like a little kid in timeout, which doesn’t sound like an ideal way to spend a Friday night.
It’s the four of them in the doghouse as usual — himself, Niko, Aryu, and Sendou, that is. The most ridiculous thing is that Lorenzo isn’t even there, though he’s the true target of Barou’s rage; unfortunately for his teammates, though, Lorenzo’s off getting his teeth polished or counting his money while cackling or whatever else it is that he does in his free time.
Honestly, none of them are really taking the theatrics seriously. Aryu’s fiddling with the ends of his hair, Niko’s standing there, staring at Barou with large, watery eyes, and Sendou’s glaring back at Barou with his arms folded over his chest. Aiku sighs, because that means an argument between the two is most likely impending, but unfortunately for him, he sighs a bit too loudly, and Barou whips around, jabbing a finger at him.
“What’s so exasperating, huh?” Barou says. “I bet you won’t be sighing when we have an insect infestation because none of you can be bothered to clean up that damn tomato shit that Lorenzo’s obsessed with!”
“It’s marinara,” Niko pipes up meekly. They all look at him with varying degrees of incredulity; he shrugs, adjusting the headphones around his neck self-consciously. “Lorenzo’s trying to teach me how to make it. Supposedly a typical spaghetti sauce has meat and vegetables added, but a good marinara is the base, so — um, anyways.”
Barou’s upper lip is curled into a sneer, and Aiku’s just about to thank Niko for taking the fall and turning Barou’s rage to him when he remembers that that’s markedly not how Barou operates. He’s too meticulous to forget the former recipient of his ire, not so quickly, and indeed, Barou is pointing at them both when he speaks next.
“That stain better be gone the next time I come in this room,” he says. He doesn’t say what will happen if it’s not, but given his authoritative voice and enormous physique, he usually doesn’t have to resort to making threats in order to be obeyed.
“Thank goodness,” Aryu says once Barou has left to complete his evening meditations. “Seems like Barou appreciated our elegant silence, Sendou. We’ve escaped reproach this time.”
“Yup,” Sendou says. Whistling nonchalantly, he sidles out of the room, and with a fluttering wave, Aryu follows suit. Aiku can’t even blame them, considering it’s what he would’ve done if he were in their place.
Glancing at Niko, who is now his greatest friend due to convenience alone, Aiku shakes his head, wondering what choice he made in life that led to his weekend plans amounting to cleaning sauce stains from a carpet with a little boy instead of partying or something.
“You got the bleach?” he asks. Niko nods miserably.
“Yeah, I got it. You’re good with scrubbing?” he says. Aiku’s shoulders cramp preemptively at the mere thought, but he doesn’t protest aloud.
“No other choice, right?” he says. “Off to work we go, then.”
Your best friend has been begging you for days to try this new restaurant with her, and it’s only now that it’s Friday that you can’t come up with any more excuses to avoid it. The truth is that you don’t really have a reason to refuse her as many times as you have, but the thought of summoning up the wherewithal to get ready and go out for dinner instead of throwing on your pajamas and eating something on the couch with a movie in the background is excruciating. Besides, you know her tastes. She always takes you to insanely fancy locations where anything less than your best will be embarrassing, and the only saving grace is that your outings always end up being insanely cheap, as she refuses to spend more than the bare minimum no matter what.
“You’re serious?” she affirms, standing in front of your closet and sifting through your clothes. You’re sitting on your bed, legs crossed and your laptop on your lap as you try to finish up the essay you have due Monday before getting ready. “You’ll really go with me?”
“I just told you I would, didn’t I?” you say. “I wouldn’t let you go through my closet if I wasn’t being serious. Actually, I wouldn’t have let you into my house at all.”
“Your parents would’ve opened the door for me,” she says dismissively. “They love me.”
It’s true, they do love her as much if not more than they love you, so you have no rebuttal. She grins at you, tossing a shirt in your general direction. It hits the back of your laptop, landing in a heap on the floor, and you’re too busy to pick it up, so you just leave it there, too lost in thought to care. Just the conclusion, if I can finish that then I can do something fun without anything on my mind—
“Hurry up and get ready! We want to get a table, don’t we?” she says. It’s a pair of pants she flings your way this time, and her aim is far more superior, for they smack into your face, temporarily blinding you.
“If you don’t let me finish this essay, I won’t go with you,” you say, and she knows you mean it literally, so she immediately pretends to zip her lips, saluting at you.
“Finish away!”
“Barou’s totally got a stick up his ass, don’t you think?” Aiku says after thirty minutes have passed and the stain is no smaller than before.
“I don’t think I’d phrase it like that,” Niko says, pouring another cup of bleach on the carpet. Neither of them really know much about cleaning, so this is the best they’ve got, even though Aiku’s pretty sure Barou would pass out if he saw their method. “But yeah, he can be kind of uptight at times.”
“He’s pretty nice otherwise, though,” Aiku says thoughtfully. “It’s kind of a shame. I bet if he loosened up a bit, he’d be a downright enjoyable teammate. Besides the cleaning and all, he’s a cool guy.”
“I do like training with him,” Niko says. “When he’s not yelling at us, it’s fun. Following his regimen has made me a lot stronger.”
“Agreed,” Aiku says. That’s the one thing he’ll give Barou — the guy is a master with the training equipment. He’s introduced Aiku to machines he didn’t even know existed. “You know what he needs?”
“What?” Niko says. He’s scrubbing at the floor while Aiku’s sipping on a soda; theoretically, they’re supposed to be switching off, but Niko hasn’t complained yet, so Aiku’s not about to remind him that it’s well beyond time for his turn.
“Some pu—” Aiku cuts himself off when he remembers that he is talking to a child. Niko’s like twelve or something, so maybe phrasing it in that way isn’t the most appropriate thing to do. “—I mean, a beautiful and loving girlfriend.”
Niko tilts his chin up at him, which means he’s probably looking at him; it’s hard to tell with his overgrown bangs falling in his face. Aiku makes a mental note to suggest cutting Niko’s hair during the next team bonding night that Snuffy forces them into.
“I guess having someone like that would make anyone happier, even Barou,” he says.
“That’s what I’m getting at! I bet he’s just constantly stressed out, so he takes it out on us instead of finding a healthy outlet. Maybe dating someone will fix that and give him something to do besides soccer,” Aiku says.
“Is that your secret to always being so calm?” Niko says. Aiku nods.
“The more girls you have, the less you can worry about things like training. You’re too focused on making sure they’re all happy,” Aiku says.
“Woah,” Niko says. “That’s a really great way of looking at things.”
“Right?” Aiku says. “With Barou, though, we might be lucky if we can find even one girl willing to put up with him. He’s a bit of a work in progress, you know?”
“Totally,” Niko says. “What if he yells at her the way he yells at us?”
Aiku has a vision of some poor, innocent girl on the verge of tears as Barou rants about how she didn’t fold her laundry the right way or something. For some reason, she looks kind of like Niko — oh, that’s probably because Barou just yelled at Niko for that exact reason — but the image is enough for him to balk.
“She can come to us for comfort,” Aiku says decisively before once again remembering that Niko probably only popped out of the womb a scant few months prior. He needs to be more careful — this isn’t Sendou, who would’ve made at least ten innuendos even worse than his own by this point. “I mean, me.”
“That’s a good plan,” Niko says. “You’re really good with the whole advising and comforting thing. I bet you’d make her feel better for sure.”
Yeah, I’d make her feel better alright. This time Aiku manages to keep it to himself, only coughing slightly and nodding towards the bottle of bleach as an explanation.
“The only question is where in Blue Lock are we going to find a girl, let alone one willing to date Barou?” Aiku says.
“Well, Bastard München is playing PXG this weekend, and Manshine City is playing Barcha, so we’re technically off,” Niko says. “I think if we ask Snuffy, we can probably have a day out.”
“What if Ego gets mad?” Aiku says, although the idea is sound enough that he’s just jealous he didn’t come up with it himself. Niko hums, giving careful consideration to the notion.
“We can just blame it on Snuffy. What’s Ego going to do, fire him?” he says.
A grin breaks out on Aiku’s face.
“Niko, kiddo—”
“I’m fifteen.”
“—you’re totally a genius. Let’s go!”
“What about the stain?” Niko says. Aiku glances at the still marinara-colored splotch on the carpet, and then he waves it off dismissively.
“If we can find Snuffy before Barou gets back, then it’s no longer our problem,” he says.
Niko looks unconvinced, but he’s sensible as well as genius-material, so he only follows after Aiku — albeit not without a final worried glance at the section of carpet which still smells suspiciously of tomatoes.
“So what cuisine does this place have, anyways?” you say. You’ve finally finished and submitted your essay, and now you’re taking a shower. Your best friend has closed the lid of the toilet and is sitting on it while playing on her phone, apparently because she wants to be able to talk to you even while you’re showering, and since you have a curtain you don’t mind.
“No idea,” she says.
“No idea?” you say, squeezing shampoo into your palm. “Why do you want to go, then?”
“My dad’s Facebook friends have been raving about it,” she says. “His ex-boss said that it’s the best value-for-money in the entire city!”
“We’re going to dinner based on recommendations from your dad’s Facebook friends,” you repeat dryly. “Wow.”
“Look, he may have chronically underpaid my dad, but the ex-boss has great taste in food!” your best friend defends. “Apparently they fill up super fast, though, so we have to get there right when they open for dinner, or else we’re out of luck.”
“Is this you subtly trying to pressure me to shower faster?” you say.
“It’s not subtle,” she says. You scoff.
“I hope you know I’ll take even longer now,” you say.
“You better not!”
Snuffy is obviously confused when the two of them approach him — Aiku’s not sure if it’s the question that has their coach confounded, though, or if it’s the admittedly odd combination that’s approached him.
“You guys want a night out of the facility?” Snuffy checks.
“Yes,” Aiku says.
“And…you want Barou to come?” Snuffy says. That could be another reason for the incredulity — ‘Barou’ and ‘fun’ are two words rarely if ever seen in the same sentence, unless your name is Yoichi Isagi, in which case just being on the same field as Barou is your idea of ‘fun.’ For normal people — i.e. those with names such as Oliver Aiku and Ikki Niko — those concepts don’t generally align, however, so Aiku can’t blame Snuffy for the weird face he’s making.
“Yes,” Niko says.
Snuffy stares at them for a moment longer, and then, to make things even stranger, he chuckles in a way that’s almost fond.
“It’ll be good for him to get out of here for a bit,” he says. “You two are great teammates for thinking of him; I’m sure he’ll appreciate it one day, if not necessarily tonight. Go on, then, and have fun if you’d like.”
Aiku waits for the other shoe to drop, but Snuffy just returns to making a cup of coffee. It’s a little odd, given the later hour, but still, Aiku’s not one to count his blessings, so he motions for Niko to follow him, and with Snuffy’s official permission, the two of them march towards where Barou is probably doing his daily “fuck Yoichi Isagi” affirmations. They have that kind of weird relationship, after all. It’s unnecessarily complicated, but Aiku has observed during his time in Blue Lock that almost every single relationship between the members of the program follows such a mold. He’s given up on trying to figure any of it out, knowing it’s well beyond him.
“Are you ready?” Aiku says when they reached the closed door to the training room. Niko rolls his shoulders.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Niko says. Aiku decides he likes him, and that he should try to spend more time with the pipsqueak. Maybe he can be a mentor figure or a true role model for the younger player. He’d definitely do better at the job than, say, Aryu. Or Lorenzo, which is a more relevant concern, since apparently the two are cooking buddies, as per Niko’s marinara interlude during Barou’s earlier tantrum.
With a grim nod at Niko, Aiku swings open the door. Schooling his expression into a cheery grin, he calls out in a sing-song that really doesn’t spell anything but trouble:
“Oh, Barou!”
You’ve made your best friend drive, since she’s the one who’s insisted on taking you out, which leaves you to play music and accomplish other such passenger-esque duties. You take full advantage of your freedom to be distracted, shuffling through playlists whenever you’re bored and scrolling through your best friend’s crush-of-the-week’s social media.
“He’s kind of ugly,” you say. She clicks her tongue.
“In a cute way, though, right?” she says. When you’re silent, she gasps. “Right?”
“Uh…” you trail off, zooming in on one of the photos. Something about him is reminiscent of a gerbil, and you can tell he’s short even before you swipe and see him in a photo with one of his friends, barely coming up to his shoulder. “There’s someone out there for everyone, I suppose.”
“That means you think he’s repulsive!” she accuses you.
“Repulsive’s a strong word,” you say.
“Hideous?” she says.
“I can get behind that,” you say. “He reminds me of Tinkerbell.”
“Like the fairy, or our third grade teacher’s gerbil?” she says.
“The latter,” you say. “I’m glad you remembered her. That wouldn’t have been as funny if you didn’t.”
“I didn’t find it funny regardless,” she says, pulling into the parking lot and slowing the car to a crawl as she hunts for a space to pull in.
“Hm,” you say. “I did.”
“You know what? You’re not allowed to slander him until you find someone better for yourself. Girls in glass houses should not be throwing stones, and considering some of your exes, you’re in no position to talk,” she says.
“Low blow,” you say.
“No response? That’s what I thought,” she says. You scowl.
“Just park the car, you dumbass.
“What the hell is going on?” Barou says, for probably the third or fourth time. Unfortunately, their attempt at kidnapping him didn’t go as planned, for neither Aiku nor Niko could lift Barou for any length of time, so now they were stuck with a supremely irritated striker following after them as they marched towards where the Blue Lock official parking was.
Snuffy had given them the keys to his car, so at least they had a ride — if he weren’t such a good coach, Aiku would seriously question the man’s judgment. Niko ushers Barou into the backseat, claiming he already “called shotgun,” and then he dives into the passenger seat beside Aiku, fastening his seatbelt with a serious expression on his delicate face.
“We wanted to have a fun night out!” Aiku says, turning the child lock on so Barou can’t escape before reversing out of the garage.
“Huh?” Barou says. “There’s so many things wrong with that statement, I don’t even know where to begin. Also, why are we in Snuffy’s car?”
“He gave us the keys,” Niko says, like it’s obvious. In all fairness, it kind of is.
“He gave you two the keys,” Barou says. Aiku’s a responsible driver, so he doesn’t glance back at Barou, but he’s pretty sure that if he did, he’d be met with the kind of fearsome glare that made medieval-era peasants believe in the existence of creatures like trolls and dragons.
“Yes, he did,” Aiku says. “Told us to enjoy ourselves while we were at it.”
Barou sighs. “Say I believe that—”
“We’re telling the truth!” Aiku says.
“—uh-huh, sure. Anyways, where are we even going?” he says.
“Oh, I can answer that!” Niko says. “It’s this restaurant that my dad’s obsessed with. He’s been posting all over his Facebook about it. According to him, it’s the best value-for-money in the entire city.”
“At least you two are being frugal,” Barou says with a small ‘hmph.’ “How far is it?”
“Not too far,” Niko says.
“Just sit back and relax, man! It’s a couple of friends going out for a meal. Totally normal!” Aiku says.
“Friends don’t kidnap one another to hang out,” Barou says.
“We didn’t kidnap you. Are you saying we’re friends, then?” Aiku says.
“I’m saying we’re not. You turned the child lock on, so that basically constitutes an abduction,” Barou says.
“I did that for Niko!” Aiku says, mentally patting himself on the back for the quick thinking.
“What? I’m fifteen, not five!”
By the time your best friend finds somewhere to park, it’s already dark, and the spot is at the very edge of the lot, so then the two of you have to walk for another five minutes. She’s antsy by this point, but she does an admirable job of hiding it, only picking at her nails behind her back where she thinks you won’t see.
“It’ll be alright,” you say as you reach the door to the restaurant. “I’m sure they’ll have space for two people, at least. Nowhere can be that busy, right?”
“I hope so,” she says, chewing on her lower lip.
You’re proven wrong almost as soon as you both walk into the establishment. Every single table has people sitting at it, and there’s a small crowd of people in the waiting area. Still, you and your best friend push past to where the hostess is standing.
“Excuse me,” you say. “How long is the wait?”
“At least an hour,” the hostess says, her face wan.
“An hour?” your best friend says. “There’s nothing you can do?”
Of course, both of you know there isn’t, but it’s still disappointing when the hostess shakes her head regretfully.
“Would you like me to put your names down?” she says.
“Give us a minute,” you say. She nods, and you and your best friend walk a ways away. As soon as you’re out of the hostess’s earshot, you frown. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would genuinely be this busy.”
“It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting it either,” she says, exhaling heavily. “I would’ve been way more serious about being on time if I had.”
“What should we do now? I don’t mind waiting,” you say.
“It’s okay. I’m a little hungry, so we can go somewhere else and come back here another day,” she says.
“Are you sure?” you say.
“Yeah, I am. Let’s go,” she says.
You’re heading towards the door when a robust voice stops you. At first, neither of you are sure if the speaker is referring to you, but when it becomes obvious he is, you turn around in confusion.
“Where are you guys going?” he says. It’s a man with dark hair and eyes like mismatched marbles, and he’s sitting at a table with two others. There’s a couple of empty seats, and he motions towards them. “We’ve been waiting for you two for forever!”
“Oh, you’re in their party?” the hostess says. You glance at your best friend, who mouths why not? at you, and then you smile at the hostess.
“Yes, we are,” you say.
“You should’ve said so from the start,” she says, shaking her head. “Right this way, please.”
You and your best friend follow after her, both of you more than a little lost at the turn of events, but who are you to turn down the offer? Sure, you don’t know any of the three, but at least this way you two didn’t drive out for no reason, and the restaurant’s crowded enough that if they have nefarious intentions, you should be able to get help relatively quickly.
As you sit down and the hostess offers you menus, you can’t help but glance at the three boys, wondering what exactly it is they want from you. Is this some elaborate scam? An effort to get you to pay for their dinner? You can’t tell. They’re unreadable, and all you can do is hope that the meal still goes as well as you had originally planned — otherwise, you’ll be really mad that you’re not at home instead.
When Niko had first suggested calling ahead to make reservations, Aiku had privately considered him to be a nerd, and one of the idiotic variety, no less. A lethal combo. But outwardly he had nodded along and told him to go right ahead, mostly because it seemed like the kind of thing Barou would appreciate. Now, though, he’s glad that Niko had that kind of foresight, because the place is completely packed.
“Where’s the rest of your party?” the hostess says when they walk in and give her Barou’s name. Aiku doesn’t really know why Niko made reservations under Barou’s name, nor what the hostess means by the ‘rest of their party’, but she’s pretty, so he gives her a charming smile. She’s working now, so he can’t exactly push Barou towards her, but if he’s talking about himself…
She blushes and ducks her head, although the moment is ruined by Niko speaking up.
“What do you mean, the rest of our party?” he says.
“You made a reservation for five, didn’t you?” she says, leading them to the table. Aiku exchanges looks with Barou, mostly because the two of them tower over the others, so it’s convenient, but Barou seems as confused as Aiku is. Both of them clearly heard Niko making the reservation for only three people, so how in the world had the hostess written down five?
“Uh,” Niko says, and then for some reason he’s turning towards Aiku for help? Aiku’s kind of distracted, though, both with celebrating the moment he just had with Barou and with discerning the color of lipstick the hostess is wearing (red or pink?), so when she directs her question to him, he admittedly panics a bit.
“Will the rest of them be arriving later?” she says.
“Yes,” Aiku says. Coral! That’s the shade he was looking for.
“No worries,” the hostess says. “Although you might want to tell them to hurry up, just in case.”
“Wait, what—?” Aiku begins, but she’s already dropping menus in front of them and racing off to take care of the next group of customers.
“You fucking donkey,” Barou said. “Who else is coming to this?”
“Nobody that I know of,” Niko says. “I only made a reservation for three. She must’ve gotten confused and written down five or something like that, but why’d you go along with it, Aiku?”
“Um,” Aiku says.
“What unparalleled eloquence,” Barou says.
Aiku’s mind is racing. Firstly, he’s accidentally confused this poor hostess into expecting two more people, and secondly, how are he and Niko supposed to set Barou up with a girl in this kind of situation? The food may be great, but the ambiance isn’t exactly what they’re looking for.
Somehow, these two lines of thought get muddled into one solution, the catalyst of which is when he sees two girls heading towards the door, obviously disheartened by the long wait time for those idiots who didn’t make reservations.
Wait. If those two are girls, and two plus three is five, then Barou might just end this night no longer single!
Another quick recovery by Oliver Aiku. He’s getting better and better by the minute.
“Hi,” the man who called you over says. “I’m Oliver Aiku.”
“Hi,” you say. The five-person table is a circle, and Aiku’s across from you; since it’s your fault that you’re sitting with these random guys instead of by yourselves, you squeeze between your best friend and the more intimidating-looking one, leaving her to be on the right side of the youngest boy in the group. “Y/N L/N.”
“Nice to meet you,” he says.
“Likewise,” you say.
“I’m Niko,” the younger boy says. He has dark hair falling into a heart-shaped face, and you can’t fully see his eyes, but you think they might be some shade of bluish green. Idly, you wonder how his vision isn’t horrible given how overgrown his bangs are, but he doesn’t seem to be having any problems, so you suppose he must have some kind of method around it. “And that’s Barou.”
“I can introduce myself,” the one at your side snaps. He’s by far the most handsome of the trio, although you’re sure your best friend would disagree — she has bad taste, though, so that’s irrelevant — with a regal face and sharp eyes. His dark hair is spiky and his eyes are a vivid crimson, narrowed with irritation while his mouth tugs into a perfect frown. “My name is Barou.”
“It’s a pleasure, Barou,” you say.
“Yeah,” he says. “Same here.”
More than being a pleasure, it’s a little tense, so you return to reading your menu, not knowing what else to say, hoping someone else says something soon and rescues you from the ensuing silence.
This is bad. Almost as bad as Japan’s performance in the last U-20 World Cup, which occurred right before Aiku moved up and joined the team. Almost as bad as that stain Lorenzo’s marinara left on the carpet. It’s that level of catastrophic, because clearly, Barou will take a lot more encouragement than originally anticipated. Kicking Niko under the table, Aiku nods meaningfully at Barou, who is also reading his menu, sitting next to the girl who’s doing the same.
It’s the perfect opportunity for small talk. Occasionally, the girl will peek at him over the top of his menu, so she’s clearly not affronted by him — either that, or she’s deathly afraid that Barou will kill her and is making sure he doesn’t do that when she’s distracted. If the latter is the case, well, it’s not entirely unfounded.
Solving the conundrum which has presented itself is even more difficult than their game against PXG was. How is Aiku supposed to flirt with someone for Barou? She’ll just end up liking him, which is rather counterintuitive, given that the end goal is to get Barou a girlfriend.
If only Barou weren’t so stubborn! Aiku’s put him in the perfect spot, but instead of just reaching out his hand and snatching the opportunity up with both metaphorical hands, he’s sitting there, utterly absorbed by the intricacies of the restaurant’s entrees, which Aiku surmises are no doubt fascinating to people with such sensibilities.
It’s the girl, Y/N, who breaks the silence again. Clearing her throat and setting the menu aside, her eyes dart around the table before settling on Aiku. A natural consequence, given his dashing looks and genial personality, but not the one they’re hoping for at the moment, not in the slightest.
“We don’t know you, right?” she says.
“I don’t think so,” Aiku says. Has he gone out with her before? He’s pretty sure he’d have remembered if he had, but you can never be careful these days.
“Then why’d you invite us to sit with you?” she says.
Aiku’s in desperate need of an assist, and there’s only one person who’ll reliably send him one. Besides, the kid owes him a favor, so he doesn’t even feel guilty when he makes a face at Niko, as if indicating that he should be the one to answer the query.
“It was Barou’s idea!” Niko says.
“Excuse me?” Barou says.
“What?” Aiku says.
“Yeah, it was. He felt bad that you guys were going to leave without eating, and we accidentally booked a table for five instead of three, like we originally planned, so he told Aiku to stop you guys before you were gone,” Niko explains.
“Oh, that was very sweet of you!” Y/N says. “Thank you so much. We both really appreciate it.”
Under the table, Aiku gives Niko a thumbs-up. Niko returns the gesture in kind, though neither of them let their true emotions show on their faces, which must be carefully schooled into blankness so that nobody else catches on to their scheming.
“You’re welcome,” Barou says before freezing as he realizes that he’s somehow fallen for Niko’s lie, despite being there to witness the truth of the events. “Wait, no, it wasn’t—”
“Barou’s super considerate,” Niko continues, cutting Barou’s correction off. Aiku could just about cry. Niko’s a natural-born talent! He could never have predicted the younger boy’s sheer skill at this kind of thing. “Do you watch soccer?”
“Not really,” Y/N says thoughtfully. “I’ve never understood it well enough to become an avid fan, and my father prefers baseball, so it’s not something my family is into. I think it’s really cool, though!”
“Barou plays,” Niko says.
“So do you guys,” Barou says.
“Yeah, but you’re sitting next to her,” Niko says. “And you’re the king, right? Who better than you to explain the sport?”
“She didn’t ask for that,” Barou says, glowering at Niko and Aiku alike. “Why would I do that?”
“I don’t mind,” Y/N says, even going so far as to smile at Barou. With a final suspicious glare at the two of them, Barou begins to explain the rules of the game to her, and Aiku takes advantage of his distraction to high-five Niko.
“You’re amazing,” he whispers. “Where’d you learn this shit?”
“I watch a lot of anime,” Niko whispers back. “This is a classic set up for a twelve-episode romance that teaches the viewers about friendship, love, and what it means to grow up.”
“That’s not what I was expecting,” Aiku says after digesting this latest revelation, finding that it makes a surprising amount of sense. “But hey, whatever works!”
“Exactly,” Niko says. “Do you think it’s weird if I order chicken fingers from the children’s menu?”
“Order whatever you want, kid,” Aiku says. “You deserve it. I’ll even pay.”
“Yay!” Niko says. “Chicken fingers it is.”
Aiku doesn’t even mind treating him. If this is successful, then he’ll buy Niko all of the chicken fingers in the world in thanks.
You’re more than a little grateful that Niko has given you something to talk to Barou about. Your best friend is busy texting her crush, the gerbil-looking one, who has apparently responded to her story, so you would’ve had to sit there in silence until she finished up or someone took pity on your helpless self. In this way, though, it’s much more natural, and even if it really was just an example of Niko feeling bad for you, it didn’t come across as such.
“You really scored a goal against the Japanese U-20 team?” you say after Barou has finished a long-winded explanation on the rules of soccer and some of the highlights of his career in the sport. In truth, you mostly tuned out the more technical details, but you have to admit that some of the things he’s mentioned about himself are rather interesting.
“Yes,” he says.
“Wow,” you say. “You must be good, then.”
He shrugs in acknowledgement. “I’m good.”
It doesn’t feel like he’s bragging or anything like that. He’s just acknowledging an inevitable truth. He’s good. The way he says it, no one can deny it — not that you would’ve. Based on his build alone, you’d have expected him to have talent as an athlete; the things he’s mentioned have only been confirmation of that initial prediction, rather than blowing your mind in any significant way.
“Hi!” Your waitress’s arrival with a tray full of drinks cuts your conversation with Barou short, which you’re surprised to find you’re a little put-out by, at least until the grumble of your stomach reminds you of why you came to the restaurant in the first place. “Are you all ready to order?”
“I want the chicken fingers,” Niko says.
“The chicken fingers from the twelve and under menu? How old are you?” she says.
“Twelve,” Niko says. You frown, leaning closer to Barou in order to murmur in his ear.
“Is he actually?”
Barou shakes his head ever so slightly. “No, but if that’s the only way he can get chicken fingers…”
“That’s a fair point,” you say. The waitress seems to share your doubts, but then Aiku flashes her a warm grin.
“My little brother’s heard so much about your entrees, and he can’t wait to try the, er, chicken fingers. Yes. The chicken fingers. He’s been talking about them all week,” he explains.
“Are they—?” you begin.
“They met like a month ago,” Barou says, rolling his eyes. “No relation whatsoever.”
“I see,” you say. You almost have to admire the lengths they’re willing to go to, as well as how natural they are with it. “Huh. I guess if it works, it works.”
“One order of chicken fingers, then!” the waitress says, jotting it down on her notepad, returning Aiku’s grin with her own. He has that kind of enviable charisma that lets him get away with a lot more than he should, and you’re more than a little jealous. “And the rest of you?”
You all give her your orders, and she promises she’ll be back quickly before running back to the kitchen. Once again, you’re left to your own devices, and given that your best friend is still texting that guy, you decide you’ll try and talk to the others at your table.
“Barou told me you guys are all in some program called Blue Lock together,” you say. “What’s that like? It sounded super intense.”
“It is,” Aiku scoffs. “I don’t even know if we’re supposed to be here at the moment.”
“We got permission from our coach,” Niko says. “But the guy who runs the program is kind of…what’s the word?”
“Freaky?” Aiku says.
“That works,” Niko says.
“I didn’t realize we were dining with rebels,” you say.
“For the record, I was dragged into coming by those two,” Barou says.
“We didn’t actually drag him,” Aiku reassures you. “I mean, we tried, but he’s super heavy.”
“Too much training,” Niko says. “Barou, you should flex for Y/N — I mean, for everyone.”
“Hell no,” Barou says. “In public? Don’t be shameless.”
“So you’ll do it in private, then?” Aiku says.
“That’s — that’s not what I meant!” Barou sputters. “I won’t do it at all!”
“Y/N, if you get a subscription to Blue Lock TV, then forget about asking Barou to flex. You can just watch him work out. He does it shirtless,” Aiku says. You choke on your water.
“What are you, some kind of salesman?” you say, coughing to dislodge the droplets of liquid scratching at your throat. “Was inviting us to sit with you a kindness or an advertisement?”
“Can’t it be both?” Aiku says.
“No, it cannot, you fucking donkey!” Barou says. “Please ignore him. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
“You do train without a shirt on, though,” Niko says. “Quite often. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, there’s a lot of shirtless content on Blue Lock TV…Chris Prince stripped at one point, I’m pretty sure, and more than one of the Bastard München boys have had locker room features. I guess PXG is the only team without any fan service, since Barcha has Lavinho as a coach, and we all know how he is.”
“Good for them. You gotta give credit where it’s due,” Aiku says.
“Agreed,” Niko says. “Hey, Barou, didn’t you take your shirt off after scoring in the game against the U-20s, too? Is it like an established habit or something?”
“Enough about my shirt,” Barou says through gritted teeth.
“Or lack thereof,” Aiku adds. There’s a baleful aura emanating off of Barou, and he doesn’t even need to say anything before Aiku winces like he’s been cowed. “Sorry. The opportunity presented itself.”
“Both of you are on thin ice. First you abducted me, and now you’re going on about this dumbass subject? And that’s not to mention the sauce stain from earlier. I bet neither of you cleaned it up,” Barou says.
Aiku and Niko both look like they have been caught committing some crime. Barou’s about to snap, it’s very obvious, but you find his friends’ antics to be so amusing that you hesitantly pat him on the shoulder.
“Ah, I think they’re just teasing you. It’s common amongst people who are close to one another! I always make fun of my best friend for her taste in men,” you say.
“And I make fun of yours right back,” your best friend says, not even looking up from her phone. You roll your eyes at this.
“See? It’s really alright,” you say. “At the least, if you’re upset because we’re here, then don’t be. Neither of us mind. I mean, she’s not even paying attention to us. Too busy texting that Meriones unguiculatus of a man she deems crush-worthy.”
“Fuck you,” your best friend says. She ordinarily would have no idea what Meriones unguiculatus means, but given the context, you’re sure she’s figured it out.
“Don’t be mad because I’m right,” you say. “Anyways, like I was saying, it’s all good.”
There’s a strained moment where none of you know what Barou will do, but then he nods, crossing his arms and sticking his nose in the air.
“Fine,” he says. “I’ll let it slide, just this once. But the two of you better behave from now on, you got it?”
Aiku and Niko both seem to be so amazed that it’s a wonder they don’t salute at Barou’s barked-out order. Shaking your head and laughing, you decide it might be for the best if you try to talk to Barou yourself and leave his slightly problematic companions out of the conversation.
“So,” you say, to him and only him. “What’s the story behind the sauce stain?”
“Holy shit,” Aiku says.
“I know,” Niko says.
“She’s a genius. A god. A fucking Barou whisperer,” he says.
“I know,” Niko says.
“What are the odds that we managed to find the exact girl that could put up with his bullshit?” Aiku says.
“Pretty high!” a new voice chimes in. It’s Y/N’s friend; she never introduced herself, and it doesn’t seem like she’s inclined to, but she inconspicuously slides her chair closer to where he and Niko are talking. “You guys are trying to set your friend up with Y/N, huh? Good luck. She only likes ugly dudes.”
“Barou’s…kind of ugly?” Niko tries. Aiku snorts.
“Let’s keep it honest here,” he says. “Anyways, what were you talking about earlier? Barou’s a nutcase. It’s, like, a miracle that Y/N’s managing to have a conversation with him.”
“Maybe he’s like that with you, but to me, he seems to be the type that’s totally respectful to women,” Y/N’s friend says, brandishing her index finger in the air as if she’s making a particularly salient point. “The bigger the muscles, the bigger the heart, isn’t that ”
“Is that a real saying?” Niko says.
“No, I just made it up,” Y/N’s friend says. “But it kind of fits in this instance, don’t you think?”
“You’re not wrong,” Aiku says. “But do you mean to say Barou would be this nice to any girl?”
“It’s not like I know him personally. Shouldn’t you be able to answer that better than me?” Y/N’s friend says.
“There aren’t any girls in Blue Lock,” Niko says. “This is the first time we’ve seen him interact with one, so we actually have no idea.”
“Ah,” she says. “That explains a lot. Anyways, yeah, if I had to guess, he would be.”
“Hm,” Aiku says. This throws a definite wrench in their plans — up until this point, he had been convinced that there were sparks flying between Y/N and Barou, mostly because he had never seen Barou so gentle and quick to calm down in his life. Yet, if Y/N’s friend is telling the truth, and he has no reason to think she isn’t, then this is actually just his true personality.
On the one hand, it’s comforting to know that Barou isn’t constantly on the verge of an aneurysm, and indeed can even be persuaded towards kindness in his day-to-day life. On the other, it doesn’t solve their problem, which is getting him to calm down when he’s interacting with his fellow Ubers teammates.
Aiku comes to a decision relatively quickly. It’s his experience as a captain which lends him that swiftness; on the field, split-second decisions are the only way to go. He’s good at taking information and rapidly synthesizing it to come up with workable solutions, and though this isn’t a soccer match, the stakes are almost just as high.
The facts of the situation are as follows: Y/N does not seem to mind talking to Barou, and given that they’ve been engaged in conversation almost this entire time, the inverse is also likely true. Furthermore, she’s proven able to persuade him not to freak out at himself and Niko when they were pushing his buttons, which is something no one has ever managed before and is somewhat the end goal of the outing. Of course, she apparently only likes ugly guys, and Barou’s far from ugly — as a fellow member of the non-ugly community, Aiku is confident in saying this — but things like that are subjective, so he decides he shouldn’t worry too much about that aspect.
Then there are the theories, namely Y/N’s best friend’s one about how any girl might have a similar effect on Barou. This could be true, or it could also not be, but Aiku only has one data point and a limited amount of time to work with, so despite the likely veracity, he has to set it aside as false for the time being. It’s not like there’s an endless supply of girls just hanging around for him to test out Barou’s reactions with, so in this moment, he’s deeming Y/N L/N as a special case, an outlier, and this can only lead to one conclusion:
Barou is totally into her.
“Two younger sisters, really?” you say. While your best friend has been talking to Aiku and Niko in hushed tones, you’ve been preoccupied with Barou, who’s proven himself to be nothing like his first impression. You had expected him to be fussy and rude and intimidating, and while the latter adjective certainly still applies, he’s kind instead of spiteful and almost shy instead of brash.
“Yeah,” he says, and there’s a smile in his voice, although his face does not shift in the slightest. “They’re much smaller, so I look after them a lot — when I’m home, anyways. Obviously, I haven’t seen them since I’ve been at Blue Lock.”
“How sweet of you,” you say. “I bet your mother appreciates you a lot.”
“I try to help her whenever I can,” he says.
You’re about to internally swoon, but then you stop yourself. So what if he’s athletic, helps his mother, is tall, handsome, kind, muscular, and supposedly good with kids? That doesn’t mean anything. He probably has a girlfriend, anyways, given all of these positive attributes—
“I have to go to the bathroom,” you say, standing up. Your best friend looks over at you in concern, for she knows of your distaste for public restrooms, and then she, too, stands.
“Want me to come?” she says.
“Yes,” you say, striding off without further explanation. As soon as the two of you are far enough from the table, you give her a distressed look. “I need help.”
“What’s up?” she says.
“I think—”
“Are you into Barou?” she asks, cutting you off. You blink at her.
“How did you know?” you say.
“You’ve spent almost the entire time talking only to him. It’s a little obvious,” she says.
“Oh, no,” you say. “He’s definitely caught on, then!”
“It’s not a big deal. According to Aiku and Niko, he’s single, so that’s one thing you don’t have to worry about, and besides, if that’s the case, then he’s fair game, isn’t he? There’s nothing wrong with being interested in someone,” she says.
“He’s single? How?” you say. “You’re telling me no one’s been interested in him yet? That’s impossible.”
“There is the whole ‘locked away in a facility with zero girls’ aspect to be considered…” she says.
“Well, that’s true,” you say, feeling dumb for having forgotten that. “Do you think he’s interested in me?”
“He’s been talking to you back, right? That’s a good sign, especially since he’s been ignoring his friends to do so,” she says. “There’s a decent chance. If anything, does he seem like the kind of guy that would be mean about rejecting you? You should just ask him for his number when we get back.”
“Me? Ask for his number?” you say.
“I’ve heard girls have high success rates when they approach guys that they’re into. What’s the worst that can happen? Either way, the three of them are heading back to some weird facility after tonight, so we can just leave and never see them again if it’s awkward,” she says.
You mull this over. Nothing she’s saying is wrong, and anyways, it’s been a while since you dated someone. Besides, you’ll probably not meet someone like Barou again for a long, long time, and when you really think about it, you’d rather live with a rejection than a what-if scenario floating around in your mind for the rest of your life.
“Alright,” you say. “I’ll do it, but that means you have to dump the gerbil dude and move on.”
“Did that earlier. I couldn’t stop thinking of Tinkerbell the gerbil whenever I saw his profile picture; it totally killed the mood. Thanks a lot,” she says.
“It’s my pleasure,” you say. “Now, let’s go back. I have a number to get!”
“Um, hold on,” she says. “I do actually have to pee, and the bathroom doesn’t seem too dirty.”
You sigh, because now that you’re this pumped up, you don’t want to delay any longer, but you’re not about to abandon her, so you nod towards the door.
“I’ll wait here, then. Be quick!”
“Well, well, well,” Aiku says. “Who would’ve thought we’d get to see the day?”
“What are you talking about?” Barou says when he notices that both Aiku and Niko are looking at him.
“What aren’t we talking about?” Aiku says.
“It’s Y/N,” Niko says, defusing the volatile atmosphere rather efficiently. Aiku hands him a French fry off of his plate as a form of praise; accepting it happily, Niko chews and swallows before continuing. “You like her, right?”
“What? No,” Barou says quickly — too quickly, which means the answer is the opposite of what he’s just said. Aiku steeples his fingers together, because he couldn’t have imagined things going any better, and he feels like he’s entitled to a villainous pose or two every now and again.
“You’ve been talking to her the entire time we’ve been eating, and you didn’t yell at her when she told you to calm down,” Aiku says.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Barou says.
“I guess it’s for the better,” Niko says. “Her friend told us she has a boyfriend.”
Aiku’s about to reprimand him for making things up, but before he can, he sees out of the corner of his eye that the tips of Barou’s ears have turned a surprisingly light and rosy pink, and then he can only shake his head in amazement. Niko’s really fucking good at this. Aiku almost wonders if he should ask the kid for anime recommendations or something.
“Really?” Barou says.
“Really,” Niko says.
“That’s — I mean, it’s none of my business, so why are you telling me?” Barou says.
“You’re awfully upset if that’s the case,” Aiku points out.
“I’m not upset!” Barou says. “Just…I wasn’t expecting her not to be single, that’s all.”
“Expecting, or hoping?” Aiku says. Barou glares at him but does not respond, which tells Aiku all he needs to know. “It’s okay for you to have a crush on her. She seems nice enough.”
“Yeah,” Niko says. “If you guys get along, then there’s no harm in just asking her out. We’re going back to Blue Lock after dinner anyways, so it’s not like you’ll see her in the future if you don’t want to. Can you live with yourself if you don’t give it a shot?”
“Aren’t you a king?” Aiku urges. “What kind of king doesn’t put his best foot forward at all times?”
“The kind of king that respects other people’s relationships, you chewed up wad of spearmint gum,” Barou says.
“Oh, I was just making that up,” Niko says. “I wanted to see how you’d react. She’s definitely single.”
“You—!”
Aiku and Niko are saved from another one of Barou’s tirades by the arrival of Y/N and her friend. With a final malevolent sneer, Barou continues to talk to Y/N, who seems eager to pick up where they left off. Aiku high-fives Niko under the table.
“You’re a genius, buddy,” he says.
“Does this mean you’ll buy me dessert, too?” Niko says.
“If you’ll share with me, then sure.”
“Deal.”
“When should I ask him for his number? It’ll be awkward if I do it in front of everyone, I think,” you say.
“Why would it be awkward?” she says. “I’m not about to judge you. I already know you’re going to do it.”
“I was talking about Aiku and Niko,” you say, though you’re specifically referring to Aiku — there’s a sense of naïveté to Niko, so the thought of being so bold in front of him doesn’t make you squeamish, but it’s a difference case with his counterpart. Oliver Aiku has a sort of suaveness to him that makes you feel as though he’s not been rejected once in his life, and that’s more than a little terrifying. What might such a master say about your feeble attempts at flirting? You don’t want to imagine it. The mere beginnings of the thought are preemptively giving you hives, so having the thought fully formed, or heaven forbid the actual event occurring…you shudder at the plethora of side effects you’ll no doubt undergo.
“That’s fair,” she says. “I can distract them, if you want. While we’re getting dessert, I’ll tell Aiku I’m having car trouble and ask if he can take a look. He seems like the kind of guy that would fall for that. I don’t know what to do about Niko, though…”
“He’ll probably go with Aiku, but even if he doesn’t, I think it’ll be fine if it’s just him there,” you say. “He’s pretty harmless.”
“You better not wimp out, then! If I have to embarrass myself by pretending to know nothing about cars, then the least you can do is actually ask for his number,” she says.
“I’ll do it!” you say. She obviously doesn’t believe you, so you pout. “Promise I will.”
“Fine,” she says.
“Fine,” you say.
“Fine!” she says again. “Just give me a second before we go back, then. I need to think of what kinds of issues my car will be having…”
“Hey, Aiku,” Y/N’s friend says. The entire table falls silent, including Aiku himself — he’s more than a little confused about what she could want with him. After all, he’s not done anything that would seem like he’s trying to pursue her, so there’s no reason for her to believe he’s interested, and it’s not like they’re close enough for her to be talking to him in specific.
“What’s up?” he says.
“My car is making a weird sound when it starts. I was going to wait to ask my dad when I got home, but if you know anything about cars, could you maybe…?” she says.
Aiku knows nothing about cars, and he’s about to tell her as much, but then Niko of all people is answering. He hasn’t heard the boy talk this much since they met, which means he’s really getting into this.
“Sure, we can both take a look while we wait for dessert to come,” he says. It’s suspicious, because if Aiku knows nothing about cars, then Niko’s understanding has to be in the negatives. The kid doesn’t even have his driver’s license yet, so how would he be of any help? Unless this is another skill he’s picked up from watching anime, in which case it seems like that’s another hobby Aiku needs to take up.
“Thanks,” Y/N’s friend says, clearly relieved. “Y/N, do you mind staying back so no one takes our table?”
“Barou, keep her company,” Niko says. “We don’t want them thinking we’re the dine-and-dash type.”
“It’s okay with me,” Y/N says before Barou can argue, which effectively shuts Barou up. Aiku’s beloved teammate only grunts in agreement, watching the trio out of the corner of his eyes as they scurry out of the restaurant and begin to wander about aimlessly in the parking lot.
“Can you, uh, describe this noise to me?” Aiku says. It’s not like that knowledge will really change much for him, but he thinks that it might be better if he at least pretends to put forth some effort into assisting the girl. After all, it’d be bad for business if he gets flamed as the rude, unhelpful type.
“Huh? Oh, I made that up,” she says.
“As I expected,” Niko says.
“What? Why would you do that?” Aiku says. Then he comes to a realization, and it’s like a bucket of ice water has been poured over his head. “Hold on just a second, I’m not the one looking for—”
“That was a great method of leaving Y/N and Barou alone,” Niko says, cutting Aiku off before he can continue to embarrass himself. “Now they can figure things out between themselves.”
“Right?” Y/N’s friend says. “There’s only so much they can do when we’re all sitting there.”
“Yeah, awesome idea,” Aiku says, relieved to hear that she’s on their side. Girls take their friends’ opinions seriously. If Y/N’s best friend approves of Barou, then that’s a plus in Barou’s favor, and given Barou’s uniqueness, he needs all of the pluses he can get.
“And just so you know, you’re not my type, so don’t take any of this in a weird way. I just want Y/N to be happy,” she continues.
“Duly noted,” Aiku says.
“Sorry I wasn’t faster in cutting you off,” Niko whispers when Y/N’s friend pulls out her phone and begins to play on it again. Aiku shrugs.
“No worries. Nobody’s perfect,” he says. “Although, honestly? If this night ends up the way we want it to, then I’d say you’re pretty damn close regardless.”
“I’m really sorry,” Barou says as soon as your best friend, Aiku, and Niko have exited the building.
“For what?” you say. The crowd is dwindling, for the restaurant is nearing its closing time, but it’s still busy enough that you have to stay close to him in order to be able to hear what he’s saying. Or maybe that’s an excuse you’ve made for yourself; either way, he doesn’t pull back, so you remain in the comfortable space between you both.
“Aiku,” he says. “Also Niko, but mostly Aiku.”
“Why? He’s not done anything too horrible,” you say. “He’s pretty funny. And Niko seems like a nice boy.”
“They have this idea in their mind,” he says. “It’s totally stupid, but that’s why they’re acting like this. They’re not usually quite as idiotic.”
“What do you mean?” you say. You almost want to tell him to hurry up so you can ask for his number before the others come back and your best friend gets upset with you, but you’d rather listen to him talk, and anyways once you ask him for his number there’s a chance things will go wrong, so you want to soak in these last few seconds before that happens.
“I mean, you know,” he says, and then he’s turning a color you never would’ve expected from someone as reputedly tough as him. “Just that they think I like you.”
“Like me?” you say.
“Yeah,” he says. “Like I’m into you or something.”
You had hoped for it, but not seriously considered it — although, the teasing and whatnot do make a little more sense now that he’s added this context to it. If Aiku and Niko think he might be into you…you know you shouldn’t be fanciful, that it’ll eventually lead to disappointment, but you want to. You really want to, so when you next speak it’s tentative but optimistic.
“If you are,” you begin, nervous more than anything, though you’re certain the only cure is getting this over with, “I am, too. Into you, I mean.”
Barou’s lips are still parted as if he’s about to say something, but no words escape him. He just sits there and stares at you, as if you’ve said something profound or shocking or both. Probably both. You giggle, shifting in your seat and adjusting your position, because seeing him like this is endearing as much as it is uncomfortable.
“If you’re not, it’s alright, but my friend told me I should ask you for your number or something, so I don’t have any regrets when we leave,” you say. “She’s right, too. I’d have felt horrible forever if I never said anything.”
He’s still silent. You question if you’ve somehow caused him to malfunction, so you nudge his foot with your own under the table. This does nothing to break him out of his daze, and then you realize he’s probably trying to figure out how to best reject you, so you sigh.
“It’s okay to say no. There’s no expectation on my part. I just wanted to get it out there,” you say.
“No!” he says.
“Well, I mean, you didn’t have to be exuberant about it,” you mutter to yourself before smiling. “That’s okay, though! Thank you for listening and talking to me—”
“I mean, yes. No. I don’t know which question I’m supposed to be answering!” he says. “I do like you. That’s what I’m trying to say, but you just said so many things that I didn’t know what to respond to.”
“You like me?” you say. You had never in your wildest fantasies imagined someone like Barou being into you. It was the kind of thing that just didn’t happen, and yet, somehow, it had. Barou liked you.
“I guess so,” he says. “That’s how Aiku would phrase it, I think. I enjoy talking to you, and you have nice table manners. You kept your hands and surroundings clean, and you didn’t spill anything, which is more than can be said about a lot of people. I really appreciate that kind of trait in a person.”
“Uh, thanks?” you say, because you’ve not really been complimented on your table manners before, but it’s kind of sweet. “Yeah, thanks. I’d compliment you back, but there’s so many things to say that I wouldn’t know where to start…”
“How about with your phone number?” he says. You’re pretty sure that that’s uncharacteristically bold of him, because his eyes widen as soon as he comprehends what he’s said, but he doesn’t take it back. Instead, he waits, his hands folded carefully in his lap as he watches you, probably wondering what you’ll say in response to the request.
Smiling at him, you pull out your phone and open your hand, waiting for him to give you his.
“You got her number?” Aiku says as they’re driving home. Niko’s in the backseat this time, mostly because he offhandedly mentioned feeling nauseous after eating and Aiku has no interest in getting vomit all over him. “Way to go, man.”
“It’s not a big deal,” Barou says, gazing out of the window mysteriously. “I can’t exactly take her on dates or anything while I’m stuck in Blue Lock.”
“If you get Snuffy’s permission, you could,” Aiku says.
“We probably shouldn’t abuse that,” Niko says. “Otherwise, Ego will come up with some insane punishment for all of us. The guy’s a super-freak. I’m sure he’s got some crazy stuff stored away.”
“Very true,” Aiku says. “Don’t worry too much, though, Barou. If she’s the one, she won’t mind waiting.”
“How can I know if she’s the one when we’ve only met once? You’re delusional,” Barou says.
“It’s pretty simple,” Aiku says. “Do you want her to be?”
The moonlight hits Barou in a particularly elegant way at that moment. Aiku’s suddenly not surprised that Niko’s anime intelligence worked so well — Barou seems straight out of a girlish romance novel or TV show or something along those lines just then.
“Yeah,” he says. “I do.”
“Then that’s that!” Aiku says, pulling into the garage and putting Snuffy’s car in park. “Trust me, there was major chemistry there, so I’m sure she’s of the same opinion.”
“It’ll work out,” Niko agrees. He’s clearly feeling much better now that they’re not in the car, his steps light and bouncy, his lips curving upwards at the corners. “You’re a great guy, Barou. We were talking about it earlier.”
Barou scoffs. “Of course I am.”
“Classic Barou,” Aiku says, throwing his arm around Barou’s shoulder. “So humble.”
“Get off of me,” Barou grumbles, shoving Aiku away, though there’s a marked gentleness to it that tells Aiku their plan worked. He’s excited to see the long-term effects — if only one dinner with Y/N was enough for Barou to relax this much, then the duration of their relationship might be akin to a vacation for the rest of the Ubers.
That night, Aiku and Niko are brushing their teeth in the bathrooms together, since nobody else is up and there’s a certain camaraderie built between them after their adventure.
“We did good today, Niko,” Aiku says after spitting his toothpaste into the sink.
“Agreed,” Niko says.
The door slams open right after he does, which is horribly ironic timing, because it reveals a furious Barou. He’s already enormous, but his fury causes him to swell until his proportions are vaguely Hulk-like and entirely terrifying. Both Aiku and Niko glance at him in confusion, because he should have no reason to be upset, and then, right before he can start yelling, it hits them like a truck.
“Hey, you donkeys,” Barou hisses. “Did you think you could distract me by taking me to dinner? That stain is still there. Can neither of you do anything for yourselves? I’m going to kill you both, mark my words!”
Aiku groans. Niko face-palms.
Fuck.
#barou x reader#barou x you#barou x y/n#barou shoei#bllk x reader#bllk#blue lock#reader insert#modern au#oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls#m1ckeyb3rry writes
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Velvette Slang Masterlist: for the fandom
A gift from a humble Brit to anyone (not from the UK) wanting to write Velv convincingly ~
Hello you wayward sinner!
Are you looking to write Velvette into a fan fiction, comic, roleplay or something else? Would you like to make her sound legit but you have no idea about British (or indeed, South London) slang? FEAR NOT! I, Bapple, am here to hold your hand and guide you through the wonderful world of British slang so you can have fun making Velv sound legit. Let's proceed!
Not all of this will be limited to the UK, of course, and it's not an exhaustive list of ALL British slang either - it's just the kind of things Velv WOULD say as someone from South London.
Insults
For men: bastard, prick, wanker, knob, dickhead, wankstain, bellend, git, tosser, sod, cock, pillock, numpty, codger (means old man)
For women: bint, bitch, slag, wench, slut, tart, trollop, scrub
For anyone: arsehole, arse, twat, sket, muppet, minger (means ugly), bugger, gobshite, cretin
The absolute worst thing you can call someone else is cunt - this is very strong and isn't used in casual conversation, unless you are in VERY informal company, in which case it's thrown around like it's nothing at all. (Come here you cheeky cunt - playful)
Terms of Endearment
Babes, hun, luv, darlin', sweetheart, mate, sweetie, mucker, pal, blud, fam, dear, dearie, honey
Eg: "Alright babes? How's it going darlin?'"
British people often use insults affectionately, too, especially with close friends as a way to tease / banter. (You silly sod, you useless prick, you cheeky git, you daft muppet, etc)
Slang Words
Drunk: trollied, smashed, pissed, wasted, legless, hammered, sloshed, battered, bladdered, merry, shitfaced, arseholed, plastered, lashed
Good: banging, well good, mint, the dogs bollocks, ace, blinding, cracking, brill, fab, neat, beast, fresh, hench, jokes (that's jokes innit), lush, peng (good looking), sick, wicked, peak, wavy
Bad: grim, naff, shite, shit, crap, tat (useless old tat), minging, rank, dry, nasty, humming (means gross)
Pleased: chuffed, buzzing, tickled pink, sorted (I'm sorted mate)
Annoyed: gutted, miffed, pissed off, fucked off, fuming, raging, ticked off, well annoyed, bovvered (used more sarcastically eg: I aint bovvered), vexed
Curses
Bollocks, fucking hell, bloody hell, bugger, piss off, any of the insults used above
Other random words
Bare = a lot of (eg bare money)
Chirpsing, grafting = flirting
Garms = clothes
Lips = kiss (are you tryna lips me?)
Peng ting = good looking person / high quality thing
Standard = of course, yeah no duh (Yeah that's standard mate.)
Tight = cheapskate (Don't be so bloody tight!)
Yard = your house (Come over to my yard)
Banter = conversation that's funny, casual, playful (S'just banter innit)
Convo, chinwag, chat = conversation
Defo = short for definite (Oh he's defo up to something)
Other random phrases
Are you taking the mick? = are you mocking me?
Stop faffing around = be serious and stop messing about
That's mad = wow, I can't believe what you just said or that's amazing
Allow it = just leave it, it's no big deal (Whatever mate, allow it)
Other helpful pointers
When British people (who talk like Velv) swear angrily we do so many times in a whole sentence and add a lot of qualifiers, eg:
"Fuck off you fucking prick, you absolute fucking useless arsehole!"
"Don't piss me off babes or I'll fucking end your shitty little life!"
Making a crude observation about something nearly always a curse in-front of it, eg:
"That's fucking rank."
"It was fucking buzzing mate!"
The Magical Use of Innit:
Innit is a wonderful word that can be used everywhere, especially for someone from South London. It basically means "isn't it?" but it has MANY uses. It can be used to mean an agreement, like "I know right?"
"That was well good innit"
"He's a right twat" - response: "INNIT!"
"It's fuckin grim in here" - "Innit mate"
Adding "well" to words
That was well good - that was well bad - that was well grim
(You get the idea)
That's about it for now!
If I think of anything else I will edit this masterlist and if anyone has any questions please feel free to pop them in my inbox. Happy writing!
#velvette#hazbin hotel velvette#the vees#hazbin#hazbin hotel#tips for writers#tips for fanfiction#hazbin roleplay#hazbin velvette#fanfiction guides#writing guides#hazbin guide#bapple chats#bapple guides#masterlist#velvette masterlist#velvette x reader
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alone with you, does that makes sense? - ravi singh x reader
a/n: woohoo new ravi fic my bf 💖💖 wc: 1k masterlist
you stumbled into the dimly lit kitchen in the middle of the night. rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you reached for a glass and began to fill it up as you hummed to yourself. the only thing on your mind was your bed, and how dry your mouth felt.
as you sipped on your water, the doorbell rang.
you frowned to yourself, wondering who would be outside in the dead of night while it was raining.
you set down your glass and hesitantly walked to the door, and another knock came, more urgent this time. you cracked the door open the slightest bit, only to see your boyfriend, with droplets of rain on his jumper and wet hair.
“ravi?” the sleep left your body in an instant, “what the… are you mental?” you said as you opened the door wider, partially sighing in relief as it was just him, not an axe murderer or something of the sort.
“possibly.” he breathed out as he saw you, wiping a water droplet off his cheek.
“oh my gosh, get inside — it’s freezing!” you exclaimed as you ushered him inside.
you crossed your arms over your chest, feeling the cold seeping through the fabric of your pajamas as he stepped in and took off his shoes.
“what are you doing here? it’s the middle of the night.” to say you were beyond confused was an understatement.
“i couldn’t sleep.” he shrugged, like that answered your question perfectly.
“so you just came to my house?”
“yes?…” he paused, taking in your confused and honestly unimpressed look. ”well, i did call you multiple times — and i texted! so i didn’t just come to your house.”
you sighed, knowing your phone was almost always on do not disturb. “i…” you paused, eyeing his figure as he ran a hand through his soaked hair. “well… do you need anything? i can make you tea if you’d like?”
“i’m alright, thankyou.” a grin found his face, and he slightly lolled his head to the side. “would it be too cheesy to say i just need you?”
your cheeks flushed, “yes. it would be.”
“perfect.“ he flashed you a toothy grin, “i just ne-“
“stop it,” you cut him off with a sleepy laugh, your voice still tired, “you’re so unbelievable.”
“and you’re way too welcoming.” he said as he took a step closer. “do you treat everyone this nicely, or am i just special?”
you snorted, “you’re definitely special in the head, i’ll tell you that much.”
he seemed to have gotten his answer from the way your cheeks flushed even more as he got closer, “alright, fair.” he sent you a boyish grin, “i’ll take it.”
you laughed before hitting his shoulder and said, “let’s go to my room, let me just get my water.”
you heard him mutter something along the lines of, “wow, take me out to dinner first.”
shaking your head with a smile, you grabbed your glass and then he followed you up the stairs.
—
once inside your room, you tossed him a towel from your dresser. “here, dry off before you catch a cold.”
he accepted the towel with a smirk. “are you going to tuck me in, too?”
you rolled your eyes, but it was impossible for you to wipe the smile off your face. “only if you behave.”
he dried his hair, making it stand up messily before he ran his fingers through it. it somehow just made him look even more endearing. “i always behave,” he said, though his smile told you otherwise.
“sure you do.” you replied, pulling the covers back on your bed and climbing in. “now, get in here before you freeze to death.”
“yes, ma’am,” he teased, but there was a softness in his eyes as he joined you under the blankets.
the warmth of his body next to yours was comforting, and you couldn’t help but snuggle closer, resting your head on his shoulder. “better?”
“much better,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around you. “listen,” he hesitated, “im sorry for showing up so randomly, i had a bad day and just…” he trailed off, trying to find the right way to put it, “i wasn’t lying when i said just needed you.”
you tilted your head to look up at him, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his gaze. your brows furrowed and your chest felt constricted at the thought of him being anything other than happy.
“ravi, i’m here for you, always.” you moved to press a gentle kiss on his lips, and his hand came up to caress your cheek.
when you pulled back, you lay your head back on his chest. “i’m really sorry your day was horrible.” you mumbled.
“it’s fine, don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” his tone was a lot softer now, more vulnerable. “i mean, i have my ridiculously amazing girlfriend in my arms now, i couldn’t ask for anything more.”
you lifted your head again, amused at his ability to slip back into his wits so easily. “you’re really something, you know that?”
he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “yeah, something special in the head, right?”
“yes,” you laughed quietly, “but not only that. i mean, you’re sort of ridiculously amazing too.”
he gasped dramatically, feigning shock, “was that a compliment i heard?”
“i take it back.”
“so it was a compliment.” it was almost impossible for his smile to get any wider, “don’t get all soft on me now, love.” he patted your head, but there wasn’t a single bone in your body that felt the need to make a snappy retort back.
“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” you said as you snuggled in closer to his side.
“but you help me sleep at night.”
you raised your eyebrows, even though he couldn’t see it. “then why aren’t you sleep?”
when he didn’t respond, you lifted your head up to find him closing his eyes, with his lips twitching as he tried to bite back a laugh.
“you’re such an idiot.” you muttered under your breath with a laugh as you put your head back down, and ravi wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in closer.
you smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the blankets.
you could hear his steady heartbeat as your breaths started to even out, and he traced silent “i love you”s and hearts on your skin, which had you almost asleep within minutes.
“i love you too,” you mumbled into his chest without thinking twice, and sleep washed over you before you could feel the kiss ravi pressed on the top of your head.
soon enough, the rain pattering on the window and soft breaths the only sounds that could be heard.
taglist: @wish-i-were-heather @sweetlikeanangel @anintellectualintellectual @tornqdowarnings @sweetreveriee
@sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @thesuitelifeofbrook @sheisntyou
special mention @talksosweet this is especially for u 😋😋
#ravi singh x reader#ravi singh#ravi singh headcanons#agggtm#a good girls guide to murder#pippa fitz amobi#pip fitz amobi#good girl bad blood#as good as dead#ravi x reader#❦ jude writes
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How To Fucking Write: a guide by fairyhaos

this post details:
ENEMIES TO LOVERS

hi gays and gals! "how to fucking write" is back after a longgg hiatus ^^ this time we're discussing enemies to lovers which is, i think, a universally loved trope! please do send an ask if you have any requests for what i should write advice for next, and do reblog this post if it was helpful for you :)

# - HOW TO WRITE ENEMIES TO LOVERS.
.. bullet point one : choose your e2l
the most important thing when starting is figuring out what type of enemies to lovers you’re writing about. this is mostly semantics: lots of writers/ advice givers will tell you that there’s only one real enemies to lovers (when they’re literally enemies) but personally, i believe that “enemies” can be used as an umbrella term for loads of different relationships.
figure out what kind of “enemies” your characters are. this is by no means an extensive list, but enemies to lovers can include:
literal fighting enemies
(academic) rivals
2 people who snipe at each other a lot
betrayed(????) by one another
…and many other types.
figuring out in which way they’re enemies helps write out their dynamic, and also setting.
for example, you’ll often see type #1 used in historical, fantasy, battle or mafia settings, where there will be two “sides”, either due to family feuds, country/ kingdom feuds, etc., so their dynamic often feels more serious and more emotionally charged due to history and/or ancestral beliefs that they’ve grown up with.
it’s often seen as the “truest” form of enemies to lovers, because the characters interact with the intention to genuinely hurt each other. this will therefore affect the way you write them, since it has to seem like there is genuine, mutual animosity between them.
example : [court of lies on ao3] — taegyu, enemies to lovers
(holy fuck this is such a bad example but) as you can see, enemies to lovers works well within historical settings, since themes of betrayal, bloodshed and battles lends itself nicely to the trope.
knowledge of how to write fight scenes can be quite useful (fightwrite.net helped a lot with writing mine), along with making sure that dialogue uses action tags that showcase the characters’ emotions.
type #2, on the other hand, most likely takes place in universities, high schools, and sometimes in offices, where academics are important and it’s less about trying to hurt one another, and more about being royally pissed off by the other person’s presence.
there are certain nuances to how the characters interact depending on what kind of enemies to lovers situation they’re in, which is why it’s important to figure that out first.
.. bullet point two : figure out the why .
next, try to find out the why. why are they enemies?
it is imperative that you explain their situation to the readers and make them understand why the characters are enemies, and most importantly, why they can’t get together right now. enemies to lovers often goes hand-in-hand with slow burns for exactly this reason.
are they enemies due to clashing beliefs? a certain incident that happened between them, or to someone they know? maybe it’s just repressed feelings?
for every type of enemies to lovers, and for their subsequent settings, there’s often a set list of reasons that most writers use to explain why they’re enemies.
historical settings often have some sort of feud taking place, or a betrayal. academic rivals focus on, well, academics, but social factors of popularity are often used. and “enemies” who snipe at each other often have very superficial reasons that they dislike one another, such as a bad first meeting or a misguided impression of personality.
the reason doesn’t particularly have to be something as dark and deep as convoluted morals or someone killed someone else’s father. they still need to overcome their enemy relationship and become lovers, after all.
but having a reason helps your readers feel more comfortable that the story will go somewhere and that there truly is an obstacle that’s preventing your characters from getting together at the very beginning. and if that reason is an interesting one, then… well, all the better, i suppose.
.. bullet point three : the friends part
for a good enemies to lovers that has your readers truly invested in the story, the lovers potential has to be there too, even when they’re enemies.
the characters also have to have respect for each other, above all else. if the situation becomes dire, they need to be able to understand one another’s views and work together, or at least recognise that they share some ideas and have moments where they get along.
this will a) make the transition from enemies into lovers more natural and b) create the tension that makes e2l so popular.
the best ways to show these moments are by having scenes where the characters have no choice but to work together, and in that time, begrudgingly admit that the other person isn’t as bad as they first thought.
it could be a group project, them fighting for the same cause for once (against a corrupt/ unfair policy), having to get along briefly due to mutual friends, or any situation where they have to act amicably for once and, most importantly, learn a little about one another in the process.
okay, but yena, how can i write those scenes? what can i do to create that tension?
describe certain actions, mannerisms, and the way that they speak to each other that showcase acceptance and positive emotions. this can come in the form of:
lingering eye contact
them agreeing on something
smiles!!!!
a pleasantly surprised inner monologue
dialogue being more lighthearted
A doing something for B without being asked
(this is extra hard mode but) creating an inside joke
…and whilst it is a little shallow, an acknowledgement of the other person’s attractiveness always works really well, too.
example : [my other e2l taegyu fic on ao3]
as a rivals to lovers fic, their dynamic already started off more playful than in the other example i showed, but you can see that their conversation is more teasing, as they become more comfortable with talking to each other normally.
the term “enemies to lovers” always felt a little weird to me, because it’s important to remember that it’s often more like “enemies to friends to lovers”, because the characters need to develop a liking of one another first before they can think of themselves in a romantic relationship.
.. bullet point four : the oh moment
why do they become lovers in the end?
what is the tipping point? what makes a character realise that they’ve fallen for someone they once believed to be their mortal enemy? do their feelings hit them all at once, or is it a slow build up? and what are they going to do about it?
enemies to lovers lends itself very nicely to the feelings-hit-me-like-a-truck trope and the iconic oh moment. writing the inner monologue is a good way to showcase the exact momene the penny drops. for example, i have a loose “formula” that i like to use when writing oh moments (whether they’re in e2l fics or not):
[dialogue/ action of B as A watches them]
[inner monologue of A showcasing fondness for that action]
[inner monologue of A recognising how their feelings changed over time]
[action from B that solidifies overwhelming fondness and has A surprised by their feelings]
[the oh / oh no moment as the penny drops and A realises what this means]
this is by no means the only way to write out a “feelings realisation” scene, but it works very well, because the inner monologue can use varying sentence structures and a bunch of metaphors and figurative language to build anticipation.
example [venus and sun on ao3] — seoksoo, friends to lovers
this extract essentially follows the outline i described, and seokmin’s acknowledgement of joshua as sweet refers to how he had previously known little about him, merely referring to him as “nice” before their relationship gradually built up to that moment.
for a really effective oh moment, the characters need to have a chance to reflect on how their relationship has developed. they need to be able to notice their growth and draw their own conclusion from there.
.. bullet point five : be careful .
finally, some precautions.
with enemies to lovers, the whole attraction is the tension between the characters, the original animosity that is actually hiding their repressed feelings. but they still have to fall in love at the end, despite what they put each other through.
do not make them do something that they can’t take back.
this is quite important with enemies that physically fight each other. giving near-fatal injuries, or paralysing or physically disabling them (again, fightwrite.net is useful in giving info in this) is definitely not good lover-material.
unless the injuries were given when the character was (maybe magically) influenced by someone else, or your characters are traumatised enough to be able to accept each other despite everything, then it’s a good idea to stay away from severe injuries that they inflict on the other and focus more on tense dialogue and opposing beliefs.
however, it’s still equally as important to be careful with emotional hurt that characters cause one another too. don’t make a betrayal too unforgivable.
as a writer, you have to be empathetic: think from your character’s point of view. constantly ask yourself if character A will be able to forgive character B if they do something. ask if they can still fall in love with character B if they hurt them in some way.
if they can’t, then you know you’ve gone too far, and you need to dial it back.
and as a somewhat obvious but still just as important sidenote: e2l based on stockholm syndrome (captor x captive situations) or bullying to lovers is never okay. the power imbalance along with the trauma that can be developed from that means that it is not a healthy, viable, good relationship in the slightest.
never have your characters do something that you’d feel uncomfortable being the receiving end of. they’re meant to be lovers, remember? even when they’re not there yet, the characters should still treat each other with respect.
…unless, of course, you’re looking to write a somewhat toxic/ unhealthy relationship. in which case, by all means.

... and that's it ! if anyone has anything else to askt hen just shoot me ask, because i'd love to help however i can :)
taglist (send ask to be added!): @mesanthropi @stqrrgirle @weird-bookworm @blue-jisungs @eternalgyu @yumilovesloona @lvlystars @luvjoshuahong @kikohao @maesvtr0 @cxffecoupx @bleepbloopbeee
#a guide by fairyhaos#fanfic#svt fanfic#svt fic#seventeen#txt#svt#tomorrow x together#fanfiction#writing#creative writing#writers of tumblr#writing prompt#writing community#writeblr#ao3 writer#ao3#txt x reader#svt x reader#ao3 fanfiction#kpop writing
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so.... who's gonna start writing for ravi singh and other gggtm characters??
#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#ravi singh#good girl's guide to murder#a good girls guide to murder#ravi singh x reader#cara ward#cara ward x reader#my writing#fanfiction#my fic#my fanfiction#writing#fanfic
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cute idea but hero!chizome grappling with a hopeless crush on all might’s daughter figure (jus a chick he took under his wing izuku style)
like UGH. he’s such an old-school gentleman FUCK. he sends flower bouquets with your favorite flowers and like a 4 page letter with the most beautiful and eloquent language used to talk about how in love he is, and he talks like he’s fucking dying. exhibit a;
“i would lay myself at your alter, goddess, my insides laid out for your tasting, your pleasure— please eat of my flesh, consume me whole and let me feel accomplished as a simple, filling meal for you.
oh i beg of you, let my soul forever intertwine with yours, let me feels the silk of your skin, the heat of your breathe, plunge your hand into my heart and cherish it. sink your teeth into my neck and devour me.
i yearn for you, lovely thing. warmly, obsessively, lovingly, carnally, i can only hope you pity my foolish desires— my insane ramblings of fanatic and desperate attempts to gain your affections. please, please by the grace of all that is just and fair, let me worship you. let me treat you as you want to be.
i pray to no god but that of your body, of your mind, of your soul. there is no religion outside of your teachings, my muse. your word is my law, my written oath, music in the grand hall, the rain, the air, the existence of love. i would sooner accept death and the failure of my life’s work than to even acknowledge the existence of beauty that shines brighter than yours.
i beg of you, let my lowly hands hold you, let my soiled and ugly form touch and feel you, let me court you, my fair woman.
let me love you.”
omfg and he’s so petty. randoms in the street and fellow heroes flirting with you? he’s sighing and scoffing dramatically before completing dissecting their speech patterns, body posture, heroing skills, physical appearance, literally anything he can to make them leave you two alone
i feel like he doesn’t care abt how he looks (i mean duh no nose.) but the second you mention liking muscles he’s suddenly finding excuses to flex and stretch around you non stop, he’s doubling up his workout routine and bulking like a MOTHER FUCKER to see if you’re staring yet.
AAAHHH idk i just love chizome and need him insanely badly.
#and yes i fucking love writing poetry like that#can you tell i love the whole cannibalism as a form of love thing???#cause i bet you a nickel he does too.#if not more#.v speaks#.venus updated!#..mha#..chizome#hero killer stain aka my baby daddy of triplets#and husband of 20+ years#he’s such a kind soul with his lover too :(#all soft words and gentle fingertip touches#he holds them by their waist but it’s so he can massage their side and gently guide them while they walk#yes he hold their girly lil handbags like a diva#and yes he lets them do his hair/makeup/nails#god i bet that dick is heavenly.#chizome akaguro x reader#akaguro chizome#mha chizome#stain x reader#chizome akaguro x chubby reader#x chubby reader#mha x chubby reader
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Do you think the stars are visible? Being stuck in the belly of AM, it is not, but outside? Above?
Do you think that if you were to frantically crawl your way through shredded metal, slicing your skin through to the bone, pushing against the cables restraining you back, you might get a glimpse?
The machine fights against you, pushing plates into your body that roughly saw into you-- they were too dull to cut smoothly. It wasn't a trap this time. It was an oversight. You feel yourself begin to be constricted, a sheet of rusted metal quickly slamming itself into your shoulder, snapping the clavicle like a twig.
It hurts. It hurts, you cried internally. But your opposite hand that reached far above you, blood pooling down the mangled limb into your face, touches something of a different texture. And above it, you feel nothing more.
You grip and pull. Pull as hard as your atrophied muscles could, like you were born for nothing more. The plate wedged in your shoulder pushes back, slicing further down your side with great resistance. It hurts. You've felt it before. You pull harder and harder, suddenly finding the intensity of the force restraining you lessened. This was a trap, but you didn't care.
You pull, and pull debris into your eyes. You keep them open. You pull more, feeling the plate make its way down to meet your ribcage. You pull. You pull. You pull more into your face, digging and digging with digits that you knew would never be able to perform fine movements again after this stunt. You pull. There's a hole. It's about as wide as your fist.
Through it, you can see nothing but darkness.
#dice's writings#I don't like this one as much as the other#Inspired by me trying to see the aurora tonight and gazing upon the endless skies#I wanted to take this in a more soft/somber/longing way but my mind guided me to this instead#Might write the other anyway if I feel like it#cw mutilation#cw gore#ihnmaims#i have no mouth and i must scream#am ihnmaims#ihnmaims x reader#am ihnmaims x reader#Barely... LMAO
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MASTERLIST.
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ © DELUBOO 2024.
if the person you want me to write about isn't listed, ask me, and i'll let you know wether i can write them or not.

01. seventeen masterlist
02. jungkook masterlist
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After an abrupt encounter with Sun, you’re wallowing in self pity before Vanessa and the Glamrocks have deemed that they’ve had enough.
Suddenly you’re shoved in a cave with two mers and won’t be let out until the three of you have a much needed talk.
Chapter 13 is out!!
Chapters: 13/15
Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Moon/Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader, Daycare Attendant (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader
Characters: Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's), Moon (Five Nights at Freddy's), Reader, Vanessa A. | Ness, Gregory (Five Nights at Freddy’s), Glamrock Freddy, Roxanne Wolf, Glamrock Chica, Montgomery Gator
Additional Tags: MerMay, Merperson Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's), Merperson Moon (Five Nights at Freddy's), Sun and Moon are Separate Animatronics (Five Nights at Freddy's), Siblings Moon and Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's), Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, No Smut, Gift Giving, Sleepy Cuddles, First Meetings, Slow Burn, for reader anyway, sun and moon fall for reader first, Courtship, Cultural Differences, Mutual Pining, Eventual Romance, Soft Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's), Soft Moon (Five Nights at Freddy's), No use of y/n, POV Second Person, gender neutral reader, Vanessa is your mother figure, Cuddling & Snuggling, Bioluminescence, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, but it’s just reader being oblivious, Feelings realization, Angst with a happy ending, Love confessions, Getting together
Summary:
You find two merpeople stuck in a fisherman's net and decide to help free them.
You don't expect to see them again after that night, but it turns out that they have other plans. As you're suddenly being showered with gifts and shiny trinkets from the depths of the ocean, you start to wonder what you've gotten yourself into.
After all, you didn't expect the two mers to suddenly start courting you.
or basically, Mer! Sun & Moon try to romance the reader, but reader is as dense as a rock.
#a step by step guide on mermaid courtship#fnaf security breach#five nights at freddy's#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf fanfic#fnaf daycare attendant x reader#fnaf dca x reader#fnaf dca#sundrop#moondrop#mer sun#mer moon#mermay#dca x reader#fanfiction#foggy writes
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Series Synopsis: A series of (mostly) unrelated one shots, featuring Oliver Aiku somehow getting involved with the love lives of various Blue Lock characters — whether he wants to or not.
Chapter Synopsis: Oliver Aiku isn’t sure which entity he’s wronged to earn this kind of treatment, but somehow, in the days before the match against Blue Lock, he’s stuck watching over the team’s newest addition: Sae Itoshi, a rude midfielder who’d rather be in Spain (or in hell) than hanging out with him. Things get a little more complicated, though, when a cup of shitty coffee leads to a crush and Aiku is forced to intervene.
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Sae x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 7.9k
Content Warnings: crack fic, sae my awkward goat, love at first sight, oliver aiku is such a bitch but he’s funny so it’s kind of okay, reader has to work in customer service 😓, this is really dumb please don’t judge my writing off of it, sae is 100% ooc don’t come at me i KNOWWW, split perspectives (it makes sense in the story), sae slander (from aiku), reader is a fan girl but she keeps it 𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙, reader’s dad has cameos but he’s just chilling tbh
A/N: the people wanted sae’s version to be posted first so uhhh here we are!! LMAO it kind of got a bit long (as usual) but it’s very silly and goofy!! anyways so this is the first entry in “oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls” i hope you all stick around for the rest 🤩‼️
Oliver Aiku likes to think he’s a fairly nice guy. He visits his grandmother every weekend, he rescues kittens from gutters (okay, it only happened once, but he still did it, so it counts), and he’s good enough at being captain of the Japanese U-20s that none of his teammates really hate him, so all in all, he can’t be doing that bad of a job. Yeah, he’s pretty sure he’s a great person, a stand-up fellow, an upstanding member of society — so why the fuck is Sae Itoshi glaring at him like that?
“What?” he says, because it was fine for the first, say, twenty minutes or so, but now it’s gone from annoying to just plain concerning. “Something going on with you?”
Sae stares at him for a moment longer, and Aiku wonders if he’s trying to communicate via telepathy. That’s a skill he’s never picked up, though, so he can only wait for Sae to speak up, which, thankfully, he eventually does.
“This coffee is shit,” he says. The way he speaks is dull and blank, his lips pinched together and his brows low over his eyes. It’s kind of a shame, in Aiku’s highly professional opinion. He’d be handsome if he smiled more; or, if not handsome, at least approachable enough to not scare away every single girl that dared to even glance at him.
“It’s not my fault,” Aiku says. “Take it up with the barista or something.”
“You’re the one who brought me here, so it is your fault,” Sae says. Aiku crosses his arms, because isn’t Sae younger than him? This feels like a level of disrespect he shouldn’t tolerate, prodigy or not.
“Nuh-uh,” he says. In hindsight, it’s not the most mature response he could’ve come up with, and Sae seems to agree, snorting derisively before using a napkin to dab at a drip of coffee running down the side of his cup.
“What a captain,” he says with a sigh. “No wonder you guys need me to play for you against those Blue Lock idiots.”
Aiku should be offended, he really should be — and he is! He is, and he’s just about to muster up some scathing retort that’ll definitely leave Sae Itoshi trembling, but then Sae’s standing up with purpose, so now he’s just intrigued instead of insulted. He follows after him as Sae holds the coffee in one hand and marches towards the counter, and when he realizes what’s about to happen, he preemptively cringes.
“Don’t yell at service workers!” Aiku says. It would’ve been heroic if he had said it loud enough for Sae to hear him, but unfortunately, it’s more of a whisper than the brave shout he had intended for it to be, so he just looks kind of stupid, as if he regularly talks to himself or something.
“Hey,” Sae says to the boy at the counter. He’s young, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen, and Aiku prays that he’s not the target of Sae’s ire. “Who made this?”
The boy squints at Sae’s cup, reading the receipt, and then he smiles innocently. “That was Y/N. Did you want to talk to her?”
“Yes,” Sae says bluntly. Aiku is about to thank whichever deity was watching over him and that boy alike, but he pauses when the rest of the kid’s statement registers. Her? Her? Is Sae seriously about to yell at a girl for making bad coffee? If she’s hot, he’ll kill Sae, no doubt about it. “And tell her to make it quick. We don’t have all day, and she’s already wasted enough of our time.”
Yeah, he’s definitely going to kill him.
“Y/N,” a voice whispers. You’re untying your apron — your shift is just about over, and you’re ready to clock out, but for some reason your young coworker is peering into the kitchen nervously and gesturing for you to come with him. Normally, you’d tell him to handle things himself, but he’s new, so you decide to be responsible for once and follow after him, muttering curses to yourself as you retie your apron.
“What’s the matter? Did you spill something?” you say. He shakes his head, raising his hand and pointing at the counter, where two customers are waiting. You frown, because you’re pretty sure you already gave them their drinks, so there’s no reason for them to be standing there, unless maybe they want to reorder. “Wait. Did you call me to take their order? No way! My shift is over in thirty seconds!”
“No, no, I didn’t,” your coworker says. “They want to talk to you.”
“Me? Like me, specifically?” you say. He nods.
“Yeah, they asked for you by name and everything,” he says earnestly. “I think they’re mad, though.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, because the last thing you want to do is deal with a couple of prissy customers, especially not when you’re supposed to be heading home already. However, your coworker seems to be on the verge of tears, and some kind of sisterly affection tugs at your heartstrings, so you pat him on the shoulder and take his spot at the counter.
“Hi, this is Y/N. My coworker told me you needed to see me. How can I help you?” you say. Your voice is chipper and your smile is false, but they don’t need to know that. You’ve been working at the coffee shop for long enough that you’re practiced at pretending, and you know for a fact that your coworker is standing shyly at your side, probably astonished by the quality of your performance.
For a moment, neither man speaks, so you get to stare at them and make your own assumptions about who they are and what their backstories might be. It’s kind of like a hobby, a pastime for when things are slow or you’re generally annoyed about your job. You’ve developed it over the years, and luckily, these two are prime candidates for the game.
The one on the left is tall and broad, with dark hair and mysterious eyes. Curiously, one is a bright green, while the other is a softer violet, and there’s a few-days-old stubble growing on his square face, like a shadow running along his jaw. It gives him a rough appearance, like he owns a motorcycle and frequently wears leather jackets, but you want to believe that he’s gentle at heart. Maybe he has a fondness for baby animals or he likes to bake cookies or something along those lines.
The one on the right is shorter than his counterpart, and his hair is red like a sunset, pushed carelessly out of his haughty face. He’s wearing a sweater that matches his eyes, though the teal of the knitted fabric is much more muted, and you’re about to come up with some kind of fantastical explanation for who he might be when you realize that you know him.
He clears his throat, and you scramble to stand up straighter, internally screaming, because what are the odds that you’ve somehow managed to piss off the star player of your favorite soccer club’s youth team? You wonder what your father will think of you now. You wonder what you think of yourself now. What should you do? Should you tell him you recognize him? Ask for an autograph? Or should you play it cool and pretend like you don’t know him? What if he yells at you?
Actually, you wouldn’t mind it as much as normally do. When everyday customers start screaming at you for some perceived wrong that you’ve supposedly committed, you typically tune them out, and then you make fun of them with your coworkers in the back, but if it’s Sae Itoshi…well. you’ll certainly listen to every word he says, and when you return to the kitchen, you’ll write them down somewhere so you can remember the moment forever.
“He didn’t like his drink,” he says, pointing at the dark haired man.
“What?” the man shrieks. The pitch is higher than you would’ve expected from someone of his size, but it appears he realizes that, too, because then he’s coughing. “I mean, what? What are you talking about?”
“You were just complaining, Aiku,” Sae says. “You even made me come up here and get mad at this girl for you.”
The other man, who you guess is named Aiku, is turning a strange shade between magenta and beet-red, and you’re surprised there isn’t steam coming out of his ears. Given that you don’t really care about him that much, you’re instantly irritated again, because why would it matter if he didn’t like his drink? Still, you have to keep up appearances.
“My apologies, sir. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” you say.
“No!” Aiku says. “No, it’s — hey, Sae, you were the one who was all upset, so why are you putting it on me?”
“Hm?” Sae says, obviously uninterested in the conversation already. “I dunno. Maybe it happened like that, or maybe not.”
“I’m sorry,” you say again, more than a little bewildered. “Ah, I’m new here, so I’m still learning.”
Aiku, who has returned to a more normal and human color, smiles at you kindly, and he’s about to respond, ostensibly to reassure you, but then your damned coworker pipes up: “No, she’s not.”
“Ah, sorry?” Aiku says.
“She’s not new,” your coworker says again.
“‘New’ is a subjective term,” you say mechanically, wishing that it was acceptable for you to turn around and hit him in public whenever you wanted.
“I don’t think anyone would consider you to be new when you’ve been working here for three years,” your coworker says. You can imagine the innocent, guileless expression on his face right now. You want to do something violent to it.
“Ha, ha,” you say. You think your eye might twitch, too, but if Aiku or Sae notice, then neither of them point it out. “What a knowledgeable fellow we have back here.”
“It’s alright,” Aiku says. “I didn’t mind the drink. Sae’s the one who threw a fit about it.”
“I liked it,” Sae says stubbornly. “It was fine.”
You step in before Aiku can turn magenta again, because that’s probably unhealthy for him, and you don’t want to be held liable for a customer dying on your watch when you’re not even being paid for it.
“Anyways, is that all? I’m actually done with my shift, so if you guys don’t need anything else…” you trail off, though inside you’re screaming something along the lines of Sae Itoshi, please notice me and give me your autograph and oh, if you could fall in love with me, too, that would be amazing!
Of course, you can’t verbalize anything like that, so you just smile and wave until the door slams shut behind them. Then you’re yanking your apron off and balling it up before chucking it at your coworker’s face. It hits him in the nose and slides to the ground; he gives you an offended look before picking it up.
“You’re lucky it was only an apron,” you say. “You owe me big time, you little shit.”
“Huh?” he says.
“I won’t forget this!” you warn him, stomping towards the small locker room, where your precious phone is waiting for you. “You’re a major-league jerk, okay? Don’t ever ask me to cover another shift for you again!”
“Huh?”
“What the hell was that?” Aiku snaps as soon as they’ve left the cafe, because this is totally not what he was expecting when his coach told him that he had to treat Sae nicely and make him feel welcome.
“What was what?” Sae says. He’s sipping on his coffee sedately now, even though he was complaining about it only minutes earlier.
“Since when was I the one who was upset about my coffee?” Aiku says.
“I have a bad memory,” Sae deadpans. “I guess it could’ve been either of us.”
“That was not believable in the slightest,” Aiku feels the need to inform him. Judging by Sae’s expression, it wasn’t meant to be believable, though, and Aiku sighs. “Seriously, what’s your deal? You were just going crazy and glaring at me because you thought the coffee sucked, and now you think it’s good?”
“I should’ve waited for it to cool,” Sae says. “It’s better now. I was being hasty.”
“Uh-huh,” Aiku says. “Sure. Let’s do something else tomorrow. I don’t ever want to go back there. I don’t think I can face that girl again. She was so hot, too, and now she probably thinks I’m some ungrateful asshole…”
“I want to go back,” Sae says immediately, throwing the now-empty cup into the nearest trash can. Aiku furrows his brow at him, trying to puzzle out this latest contradiction and finding himself utterly unable to. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” Aiku repeats dubiously. Tomorrow he has practice, and technically so does Sae. However, they both know that Sae doesn’t need anything as ridiculous as practice in order to win against a team of eleven high-school forwards, and he’s fairly confident that his coach will tell him to accompany the bratty Itoshi instead of showing up, since the JFU is pulling out all of the stops if it means getting Sae to stay in Japan for good.
“Tomorrow,” Sae reaffirms.
I’m a nice guy, Aiku tries to remind himself. This is what nice guys do. I’m boosting team morale. Yeah. That’s all. Captain’s duties.
Still, as he chases after Sae, who apparently doesn’t know what the word ‘stroll’ means and prefers to do everything at a brisk pace more akin to a jog, he thinks that this entire ridiculous assignment feels more like a babysitter’s duties than anything.
“Are you serious?” your father says. In the background, the TV is playing a game between Re Al and Barcha, which is rather fitting.
“Deadly,” you say, untying the laces of your sneakers and putting them with the rest of your shoes. “It was actually him.”
“Sae Itoshi,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s back from Spain?”
“Seems like it,” you say, though now that he mentions it, you’re as confused as he is. Why is Sae Itoshi here instead of Madrid? You glance at the TV — Barcha has just scored, and the cameras are sweeping through the crowds, showing the excited fans cheering — and wonder if maybe he was fired or something. You doubt that that’s what happened; after all, he’s a consistent player, and the last time he was in a match, he even managed to outmaneuver that freaky striker who plays for Bastard München, so it would make zero sense for Re Al to let him go. Besides, even if they did, you’re sure there’s dozens of clubs that would be willing to take him, so there must be another reason for his presence in Japan.
“Huh,” your father says. “Well. Good for him.”
“I guess so,” you say. “If I ever see him again, I’ll ask him what he’s doing in town.”
Your father chuckles, taking a sip of his beer and giving you a thumbs up. “Yeah, you do that. Let me know what he says.”
You laugh, too, sitting down at the counter and eating a plate of reheated leftovers, because you know as well as your father that the idea of you ever seeing Sae Itoshi again is more than a little far-fetched. But it’s a nice thought, and anyways the chances are never zero, so for the moment, you allow yourself to imagine.
Aiku is seriously questioning if Sae Itoshi was sent to this earth — or at least to this country — as some kind of punishment for him. He’s not really sure what’s done that would invite such cosmic retribution, but maybe it’s one of those…what did that girl call them? Karmic debts? She had said something about the sins of his past life and all, though he can’t recall the specifics.
Wait. That’s wrong. He just never learnt them in the first place, so how could he remember them in the first place? He had broken up with her before she could explain her theories to him. This prompts a wince from him, which is further fueled by the way his t-shirt sticks to his back with sweat. It’s a distinctively uncomfortable feeling, and he’s contemplating complaining, even though it probably won’t do much.
“Shut up,” Sae says.
“I didn’t say anything!” Aiku protests, more than a little spooked, since he actually had been about to say something before Sae had cut him off.
“I can see you making faces at me,” Sae says. Considering Sae is walking ahead of him and to the side, Aiku’s not quite sure how he could tell anything about what sorts of faces Aiku is making, but unfortunately, he’s uncannily correct as always, so Aiku schools his expression into a smooth, neutral one that won’t beget reprimand from his companion.
“I can’t believe you insisted on going here straight after practice,” he says.
“This is the same time we went yesterday,” Sae says. He’s kind of an insufferable smart-ass, Aiku thinks to himself, though he’d never say as much to Sae’s face. After all, unlike his counterpart, he’s considerate like that, and he always has been.
“So? We didn’t have practice yesterday,” Aiku says. “You couldn’t even let me shower?”
“You take forever in the showers,” Sae says. This is rich, for Sae is notoriously obsessive with his skincare, and of the entire team, he takes far and away the longest to get ready. But, then again, Aiku supposes that idiocy is one of those illnesses which spreads further and further until all of one’s perspectives are tainted with the virus.
“I could’ve been quick,” he says. “It would’ve been better if I could’ve at least rinsed off so I didn’t look so gross. I want to impress that Y/N girl if she’s there again today.”
“You’re not her type,” Sae says dismissively. “So why bother?”
“How do you know? Are the two of you childhood buddies or something?” Aiku says. Sae glances at him, and of course he’s way too holier-than-thou to properly sneer, but the corners of his lips turn downwards to the same effect.
“Not too hard to figure out,” he says.
“Well, hold on just a moment! I got the vibe that she was totally into me yesterday!” Aiku says. He actually did not get any such vibes from the barista; the only thing she seemed into was clocking out, but he’s Oliver Aiku. If he can’t get a girl, he can’t do anything. Besides, it’s not like Sae would be able to tell one way or another — Aiku and his teammate Sendou have a theory that Sae was created in a lab as some kind of experiment to make the world’s best midfielder, because the guy really doesn’t have any knowledge or concern for anything that’s unrelated to soccer.
True to form, Sae blinks unsurely. “Really?”
“Yeah, one hundred percent,” Aiku boasts, although then he’s narrowing his eyes, because such a question is so out of Sae’s character that for a moment, he wonders if there’s been a mistake and he’s actually taken some other team member of his along for this ridiculous errand.
Messy red hair. Teal eyes. Forehead creased with a frown. No, it’s definitely Sae Itoshi, that’s for sure. Just Sae Itoshi in a mood that he’s never seen before. If they were a little closer, he’d ask him what’s the big deal now, but as it is, the question would probably go unappreciated.
“Hm,” Sae says. “Whatever. We’ll see.”
“Sure,” Aiku says slowly, reaching out to hold open the door of the cafe so he can enter behind Sae, since his lovely, amazing, wonderful, kindhearted teammate so generously left it to slam shut in his face.
What a total dick. He makes a mental note to ask the JFU for a raise, because whatever they’re giving him at the moment is definitely not enough.
“They’re back again!” your coworker says. You’re still mad at him for yesterday, so you’ve been giving him the silent treatment the entire shift. It hasn’t gone unnoticed, but his pitiful attempts at reconciliation never include an apology, so you haven’t budged yet.
He waits for you to respond, but you’re pretty sure he’s making stuff up to get you to pay attention to him, and anyways they could be in reference to anyone, so you continue to pour milk into a cup, acting like it’s an all-consuming task which you cannot possibly complete without the utmost of concentration.
“I’m being serious! Y/N, it’s Sae Itoshi and, uh, that other dude!” he says. Your hand wobbles for the briefest moment, but you conclude that he’s most likely lying, so you steady yourself and continue pouring the milk. “Fine, be that way! I’ll serve them myself!”
You can’t even say something snarky in response, because that’ll still be a win on his part, so you huff particularly loudly to no one in particular and leave it at that.
A few minutes later, he’s back, looking so contrite that if you weren’t upset with him, you’d actually be worried. Unfortunately, you very much are upset with him, so you find it on the whole to be rather hilarious and have to suppress a laugh.
He must take your amusement as a signal to talk, because he speaks eagerly and quickly, stumbling over his words and clasping his hands together in front of him.
“Y/N, Y/N, they’re insisting on seeing you, I told them you’re working right now — I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to do that, right? But I did, and now they really want to see you!” he says.
You’re still not entirely convinced, but if this is an act, then it’s a dedicated one, and you don’t think that he possesses that much dedication in all of his body, so maybe he’s actually telling the truth.
“Fine,” you say. “But if you’re lying, I swear I’m telling our manager to fire you.”
“I’m not!” he squeaks, darting back to the counter, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for you to catch up to him.
When you reach the front, you’re surprised to see that it is in fact Sae Itoshi and…whoever that other guy is. Aiku? Yes, that sounds right. It’s Sae and Aiku, and one looks supremely inconvenienced — this would be Sae, of course — while his friend is running a hand through his sweaty hair, flashing you a grin.
You smile back at him, because that’s what you’re trained to do, and you don’t want your coworker to tattle to your manager that you’re not abiding by the cafe’s standards of customer service. Then you stare at them until one of them starts speaking, because that’s what your entire job is, and no matter how badly you want to start gushing to Sae Itoshi about how big of a fan you are, you have to remain professional.
“Is there anything I can do for you two?” you finally say. This prompts Aiku to nod, nudging Sae in the side, which earns him a dark glare.
“I want the number two, and he’ll take the number five,” Aiku says when Sae does not speak up. You want to tell him that nobody orders like that, but you’re not supposed to and it’s really not that big of a deal either way, so you just ring up the order.
“Sounds good. Would you like to pay with cash or credit?” you say.
“Credit,” Sae says, pulling out a card that probably has a monthly spending limit higher than what you make in a year. “And we’re splitting the bill, just so you know.”
What you want to say is Wow, Sae, you’re somehow even cooler in real-life! Who’s your favorite soccer player? What’s your favorite food? Do you like Spain better, or here? What you actually say is: “No problem. I’ll have those right out for you.”
“Thanks,” Aiku says. He’s kind of charming, in a sense; you can think of several friends you have that would probably swoon at the way his smile stretches across his face, but you don’t really see the appeal. Or, maybe you would normally, but at the moment, he’s standing next to Sae Itoshi, so it’s a little hard to focus on him at all.
“Yeah,” Sae says. “Thank you. Y/N.”
He’s probably just reading off of your name tag in an effort to seem more friendly and relatable and humble and all. It’s a classic PR move that he was probably taught as soon as he joined Re Al. You know about it, though, so it shouldn’t work on you. It won’t work on you. He’s just doing what he’s trained to, the same as you are.
It works on you. You run to the back and hide your face in your hands and squeal, because Sae fucking Itoshi just said your name.
“Holy fucking shit,” Aiku says.
“Are we just listing curse words now?” Sae says dryly. “Bitch, cunt, hell. There’s three more for you.”
“You like the barista!” Aiku accuses. If Sae was drinking something, he would’ve spit it out just then, but he’s not, so he just chokes on his saliva.
“No way,” he says.
“Yes, you do! How else can you explain this?” Aiku says, pitching his voice up in an imitation of Sae’s. “Yeah. Thank you. Y/N. Since when do you say thank you to people?”
“Since always? I have manners,” Sae says.
“I’ve never heard you say it,” Aiku says.
“Maybe that’s more telling about you than me,” Sae suggests. Aiku scowls at him.
“You definitely like her,” he says. “No judgment here, man. She’s pretty.”
“Whatever,” Sae says. “Even if I did like her — mind you, I don’t — she’s clearly into you.”
“Me?” Aiku says. “I was just messing with you earlier, you know. Anyways, yeah, I think she’s hot, but, like, you’ve never liked a girl before, right? So I wouldn’t get in the way of that. This is a big step.”
“You’re not getting in the way of anything. Do what you want,” Sae says.
Aiku’s already pulling out his phone and texting Sendou: big news. Lab experiment just evolved. Feels attraction and jealousy now.
“Uh-huh,” he responds absentmindedly. Sendou texts back with about fifty mind-blown emojis, and he snickers to himself, liking the message.
“Anyways, who told you I’ve never liked anyone before?” Sae says defensively. Aiku just about drops his phone, leaning forwards in interest. Could it be? Are he and Sae actually bonding? Is Sae about to tell him about his first love — who apparently is not this barista?
“I just guessed. Was I wrong?” Aiku says. He’s already trying to come up with who Sae might’ve liked — a childhood neighbor or friend? A women’s soccer player he admired? A girl he saw once in Spain but never again? Oh, that last one is particularly romantic…he’s just about accepted it as fact when Sae glares at him.
“No,” he says. Aiku’s dreams are shattered in an instant, but he can only shake his head while chuckling, both because Sae has inadvertently admitted that he actually does like that Y/N girl, and because he was an idiot for believing that ‘Sae Itoshi’ and ‘romantic’ could ever belong together in one sentence.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“What do I do?” you say. You and your coworker are back on speaking terms, mostly because you have no one else to talk to and are so desperate that you’re willing to temporarily forgive him.
“Make their drinks?” he says. You give him a dirty look as you begin mixing up their orders.
“Not about that. I’m such a huge fan of Sae’s, and this is the second time I’m making a drink for him. It’s kind of like fate, don’t you think? Should I try to talk to him or something?” you say.
“Do you want to?” your coworker says. It’s a slower time of day, so he has nothing to do but sit and watch you — at least, nothing immediate. There’s certainly things he could be doing, but you’re not about to chide him when you’re the reason he’s slacking off.
“Obviously! But what am I supposed to even say? I’ll sound like a creep if I just start acting like a fan-girl!” you say.
“That’s true,” your coworker says. “You kind of sound like one even now…”
“Ugh, if you’re not going to be helpful, then go organize the storeroom or something!”
“What about her makes you like her?” Aiku presses.
“Are we still on this?” Sae says, as if they’ve been talking about it for hours. “I don’t like her.”
“It’s not like you talked to her for a while…was it really just her looks?” Aiku says. “Damn. Didn’t think you were the shallow type.”
“I am not the shallow type!” Sae says.
“That sounds like something that a shallow person would say,” Aiku teases.
“Shut up,” Sae says. Aiku doesn’t have enough fingers or toes to count how many times Sae’s said that particular phrase to him. Maybe if he counted all of the fingers and all of the toes of every single person in the world, he would get kind of close to what that number might be. “I’m not shallow, I don’t like her, and she’s obviously way more interested in talking to you than me, so get off my back.”
Aiku whistles. “Someone’s jealous.”
“I’m telling the JFU that you were the one who sent me back to Spain,” Sae informs him bluntly. Aiku isn’t sure if that’s a joke or a legitimate threat. It’s hard to tell with Sae sometimes.
“Are you serious?” Aiku says.
“Deadly,” Sae says.
Yep, Aiku decides. He’s serious.
“If only that Aiku dude wasn’t there,” you lament, setting the first drink in the pick-up area and calling out Aiku’s name before returning to finish Sae’s drink. “It’d be way easier to talk to Sae without someone there to judge everything I’m saying.”
“Do you think he’d even care?” your coworker says. You shrug.
“No idea. It’s intimidating to talk to guys around their friends, though. You’re a guy yourself, so you wouldn’t get it,” you say.
“Are they even friends?” your coworker says. “Doesn’t seem like they get along that well.”
In unison, the two of you turn so you can look at the duo, who are sitting at a table right within your line of sight. As your coworker said, they don’t look like they’re friends in the slightest. Aiku is sipping on his drink with a smirk, and Sae looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than be sitting there with his not-friend.
“The point still stands,” you say.
“Guess so,” your coworker says. Just then, Sae Itoshi happens to glance over, making direct eye contact with you. Your eyebrows raise, and your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught. Aiku turns to follow Sae’s line of sight as you weigh your options. Should you pretend like you weren’t doing anything? Should you wave?
You decide to just smile again before returning to the drink you were supposed to be working on. Your coworker, who saw the entire exchange, cannot stop laughing.
“It’s over for you,” he says. “He definitely thinks you’re a creepy fan-girl now. You can kiss that autograph goodbye.”
“You’re lucky I’m too lazy to remake this drink,” you say. “Because otherwise, I’d spill it on you.”
“That’s against company policy,” he says.
“By accident, of course,” you say with a malicious grin.
“That’s against company policy, too!”
“Look, she just smiled at you. I bet she was looking at you the entire time,” Sae says coolly. “You should ask for her number. You already said you think she’s beautiful.”
“I said she’s hot. I’m not all poetic and shit like that,” Aiku says. “And I wouldn’t do that. It’s against the bro code.”
“We’re not ‘bros’, so you can put that out of your head,” Sae says.
“What if I help you get her number?” Aiku says. Sae tries very hard to maintain his nonchalant look, but Aiku can tell that his curiosity has been piqued. “Will you consider me a bro then? At the minimum, will you tell the JFU that I’ve done a great job at showing you around and making you feel welcome?”
Please please please please please I really need a fucking raise Sae I’m broke please please please —
“Sure,” Sae says.
“Sure?” Aiku says. “Yes! Okay, this will be easy.”
Sae scoffs. “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you think.”
“Believe me,” Aiku says. “You’re in the presence of a master.”
Sae doesn’t even dignify that with a response beyond the most disgusted look Aiku has ever seen on anyone, Sae or not. He’d say something, but he’s pretty sure he deserves it at least a little, and anyways a possible raise is way more important to him than being right, so he keeps his mouth shut, simply giving Sae a double-thumbs-up. He’s going to ace this new assignment, and then maybe he’ll actually be paid what he’s worth instead of pennies on the dime.
You’re about to call out Sae’s name when you realize that for some reason, both Aiku and Sae are standing there and waiting for you. You furrow your brow, because it’s both a menacing and a comical sight — the hulking Aiku, who looks like he’s about to go punch a criminal on television before flipping his hair and telling the ladies that there’s enough of him to go around, and the slender Sae Itoshi, who you can’t imagine doing anything but slamming a winning pass to one of his teammates, invariably leading to a soccer ball in his opponent’s net.
“Uh, hello,” you say.
“Hello,” Aiku says.
“Hi,” Sae says.
“I have your drink,” you say to Sae.
“I know,” he says, taking it from your hand. Of course — why else would they be here? They must’ve seen you finishing up the drink and rightly assumed that it was theirs.
“Right,” you say. Neither of them go to leave, and now you wonder if they just don’t understand social cues or something like that. “Did you guys want to order something else? My coworker would be happy to take you at the counter.”
“No,” Sae says.
“Okay,” you say slowly. “Well, I hope you enjoy your drinks.”
“We will,” Sae says with the utmost of confidence. Aiku groans and then thumps him on the back. You have a feeling you probably don’t want to know what the significance of the gesture is, but then you realize that this is probably the only chance you’ll get to have a proper conversation with Sae Itoshi, so you shove your concerns aside.
“Wait! If it doesn’t bother you too much, can I ask you a question?” you say. It’s an incredibly awkward way of going about it, but given how awkward this entire interaction has been, you don’t think it’s a huge deal.
“Go ahead,” Aiku says. You weren’t asking him, but you guess the permission covers them both, so you square your shoulders and face Sae Itoshi, who seems entirely confused that you’re looking at him instead of Aiku. You’re not sure why he would be, since between the two of them he’s the celebrity, but maybe there’s some weird dynamic going on that you’re unaware of.
It doesn’t matter to you, though. You only have one thing to ask. You’ll never cross paths with Sae again, will you? So it’s fine. You can act a little embarrassing, and anyways, you barely make above minimum wage, so if your manager gets too upset and fires you for ‘unprofessional conduct’ or something, it won’t be a huge loss. It’ll be worth it, even, considering this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance and your coworker is busy reorganizing the storeroom like you told him to, so he’s not around to spy on you and report back to your stodgy old manager.
Taking a deep breath, you open your mouth and begin to speak.
Aiku hadn’t dared to even dream of the possibility that the barista might already like Sae, too. Why would she? Sae had just been all weird and rude to her in the couple of times that they had spoken, so all in all she’d have to be somewhat of a masochist, or a Re Al fan (which was essentially the same thing, given the losing streak that Re Al had been on for the last month or so), to be into him. But sometimes miracles did happen and baristas were masochists, because the girl was turning to Sae with shimmering eyes and a hopeful expression and it was all going to go so well—
“What are you even doing in Japan in the first place?”
Did he hear her right? Sae is bewildered as well, but Y/N isn’t acting like she’s just asked the most ridiculous question she could’ve possibly asked. What is Sae doing in Japan? Well, he happens to be a citizen of the nation, so there’s one explanation…Aiku wants to facepalm, because now his plans have been ruined and Sae’s confidence has probably been crushed.
“Pardon?” Sae says. Aiku had told him not to act so cranky and old-man-ish when he approaches the girl, but honestly, at this point, there’s no helping him, so he doesn’t even bother with a correction.
“Why are you in Japan?” she says again, all bright and innocent and cheery. It somehow feels like she’s been faking things so far, and that this is the real her, which she’s been holding back up until this point. Aiku isn’t so sure if that’s a good thing; privately, he believes it would’ve been better if she kept holding back just a little bit longer. Long enough for her to reject Sae — who still claims he’s not into her and is just trying to ‘be friendly’, as if friendliness is something he’s well known for — and then move on with her day.
“My passport expired?” Sae says, phrasing it more like a question. “So I had to come back and get it renewed?”
His voice ticks up at the end of every sentence unsurely. It’s almost cute, like he’s a little baby chick. Aiku’s fond of chicks, so he decides he’ll step in. Just this once.
“He’s visiting from Spain to play for the Japanese U-20 team in an upcoming exhibition match,” he explains.
“Oh, wow,” she says. “But I thought you said you would rather give up on soccer or play with German college kids than ever play soccer for Japan?”
Aiku raises an eyebrow. He wasn’t aware of such sentiments, and though he’s not exactly shocked, he can’t help feeling a bit miffed. When he glances over at Sae, there’s not a trace of remorse on his face, and so he wrinkles his nose.
Forget the raise and the baby-chick-esque mannerisms alike. He’s done helping this ungrateful, no-good, lame-as-hell, girl-repelling loser for free. If Sae wants any further assistance, he’ll have to beg for it.
“How did you know I said that?” Sae says. You clap your hand over your mouth when you realize you’ve exposed yourself.
“I, um, I was just guessing!” you say.
“Guessing?” he repeats. You swear, because that’s actually a worse explanation than the original one, and then you hang your head, because if the cat’s out of the bag, then there’s no way you can put it back in.
“It’s a quote from one of your interviews,” you mumble.
“What?” It’s Aiku, who immediately frowns when he realizes he’s butted in. Sae gives him an odd look out of the corner of his eye.
“I’m a big fan of yours,” you say. “The last game you played in, when you stole the ball from that Bastard München striker, was amazing! To tell you the truth, I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re in the area instead of back in Madrid. It’s a little unbelievable, you see.”
“Ah,” Sae says, and for some reason he looks uncomfortable. “Well. Yeah. It was just the issues with my passport and all. I decided to play for the U-20s because I was offered a good deal, but it’s right back to Madrid for me after that.”
“That makes sense,” you say. It’s awkward again, but in a different way. You don’t know what to say. You don’t think he does either. His drink is probably cold now, and you’re surprised that Aiku’s eyes aren’t stuck in the back of his head, given how frequently he’s been rolling them. “Can I have your autograph?”
“No,” Sae says immediately. You’re a little taken aback, and to be honest, he looks kind of horrified himself, but you know better than to nag, so you only nod at him.
“No worries—” you begin before you’re cut off by a grumbling Aiku.
“He’ll give you his number instead. Here,” Aiku says, listing off a series of digits too rapidly for you to remember. “He’ll write it down, for you, right, Sae?”
And then, to your utter disbelief, Sae Itoshi is pulling out a pen and a piece of paper from who knows where, and he’s humming in agreement.
“Right,” he says, and then he’s handing you a note with his phone number written on it in neat print and his signature in flowing cursive. “You can call me later. If you want. Y/N.”
The way he speaks is stilted and low, but you don’t mind it. Tucking the piece of paper into your apron pocket, you beam at him.
“Alright,” you say. “I’ll call you. I still have more things to ask you, so it’s good that you gave me this.”
“Yes,” Sae says. “Yes, you can do that if you’d like.”
Then he and Aiku are leaving the coffee shop, their drinks in hand, and you’re standing there in awe, wondering if that actually just happened or if it was nothing but a particularly vivid flight of fancy.
If it’s the latter, then you almost hope it’s one you don’t ever escape from.
“You’re welcome,” Aiku says as they leave the cafe.
“I didn’t say thank you, you lukewarm oaf,” Sae says. Aiku shrugs. He’s hard to ruffle, after all. It’s the reason why he stepped in and rescued Sae from that little mistake of his. He just couldn’t bear the thought of his dear junior losing the girl of his dreams because of a slip of his tongue, even if aforementioned junior is the insufferable smart-ass type.
Well, the thought of the money he’ll make if Sae speaks of him highly to the JFU doesn’t hurt, either, but that’s less altruistic, so he prefers to stick to the first explanation.
“I bet you feel it, though,” Aiku says.
“Shut up,” Sae says.
It’s a good thing babies are born every minute. Otherwise, given how frequently Sae says that particular phrase, Aiku really might run out of things to count on.
You’ve typed the number on the piece of paper into your phone, and now you’re staring at it blankly, wondering if you should press the green call button. What if it was a prank? What if it wasn’t? Because then you’ll have to actually talk to Sae Itoshi, and you’re not so sure you can do that.
In a fit of inspiration, you slam your index finger against your screen and hold your phone up to your ear. It rings a couple of times, each subsequent one worsening the pit in your stomach, but then it stops ringing entirely, which can only mean one thing: Sae, if this really is his number, has answered.
“Hello?” you say.
“Hello?” he responds. “Y/N?”
“Yes!” you say. “It’s me. Y/N. Like you said.”
“Cool,” he says. “It’s Sae. Which I guess you knew, since you called me.”
“The confirmation was nice,” you say, internally sighing in relief. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he says. It’s mannerly but also a little sarcastic, albeit not in a mean way. You don’t mind it much. “You said you had to ask me some things?”
The two of you spend the next few minutes in a setting kind of like an interview, in that you drill him with questions and he answers them all patiently. He’s kind about it, humoring you even though he doesn’t have to, and he never threatens to hang up, which you do appreciate.
“Would you mind if I ask a question, too?” he says when you’ve taken a break to drink some water.
“Go ahead! Although I’m not as interesting as you are,” you say.
“I think you’re probably way more interesting,” he admits. “Anyways. Are you free next weekend?”
“Uh, I think I have a shift on Saturday, but to be honest, my coworker owes me, so he can cover it. Why?” you say.
“The exhibition game that I’m playing with the U-20s for. You should come watch,” he says.
“Oh! Sure, where should I get tickets? I’d have gotten them already if I knew you were playing,” you say.
“I’m allowed to invite someone,” he says. “Friends or family. So I’m inviting you.”
“Don’t you have actual friends that you can invite?” you say before gasping. “Sorry! Sorry, that was super insensitive and rude of me. Of course I’m honored to come, I’m just confused about why I’m the one you’re inviting. Me. I’ve literally made coffee for you twice, and that’s about it.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” he says before pausing. “Um, look, Aiku told me to say this, so if it’s uncomfortable, then blame him…but I think you’re, er, beautiful?”
Your mind short-circuits. “Huh?”
“I don’t know! He’s the one who has experience, I’m just taking his advice!” Sae says, his tone souring immediately afterwards. “Trust me, it’s not like I want to. There’s many things I’d rather do than follow Oliver Aiku’s advice, but at the moment, it’s the best I can do.”
“Beautiful,” you repeat. It’s such an elegant adjective. You’ve been called pretty before, and there’s been a fair share of guys who have considered you to be hot, but beautiful…it’s nice. It’s really nice.
“Yeah,” Sae finally says. “Basically.”
“I’ll be there,” you say. There’s something like a scream bubbling in your throat, but you fight it back, knowing that it’s of the utmost importance that you maintain a relaxed demeanor.
“Great,” Sae says. “See you.”
“See you,” you say, and then you hang up before he can say anything further, because you’re already on the verge of combustion and you don’t think you can handle anything more.
Throwing your phone across the room, you give in and scream. There’s thundering footsteps, and then your father is throwing the door to your bedroom open, whipping his head around wildly.
“Is everything alright? Why are you screaming?” he says, heaving for breath, probably because he just sprinted from his spot on the couch to your bedroom in record time.
“Sae Itoshi!” you say.
“Yes?” he says, the rate of his inhales and exhales lowering as he realizes there’s no active threat to your life or property. “What about him?”
“He told me I’m beautiful and invited me to watch his game next weekend,” you say, knowing that this is going to make your father — a fellow Re Al fan — freak out.
You wait, counting down as he processes the news, unable to contain your exuberant grin, knowing exactly what’s coming. Three, two, one—
“What?”
#sae x reader#sae x y/n#sae x you#itoshi sae#bllk x reader#bllk#blue lock#reader insert#modern au#oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls#m1ckeyb3rry writes
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!! Spoilers !!
Toru Kirishima is a demon when he fights. But watching him go soft over Yaeka and for her to unknowingly help him become a better person. Along with his crash out the minute Yaeka got hurt 😭.
I know he would be an amazing lover. An absolute let the world burn for you type of man.
He wouldn't be sure what to do with all your love and affection. Caring for him, reassuring him that he's never a burden, that you love him and he's a good man.
It takes him a long time to believe you. He doesn't always understand why you love him so much. But slowly, he becomes more open to you and your love.
He's able to express himself better and even ask for your affection.
All the guys in the family could hardly believe what they were seeing. There was no way Kirishima got someone before most of them.
They didn't even mind when he came back from some dirty work. Just handing him a clean shirt and being happy he was okay. Putting bandaids on any of his cuts.
Toru would smile, showing his little fangs. You had a habit of tracing the ink on his skin anytime they could catch him shirtless.
But God forbid anything happen to you. It would drive him up the wall. You saw how far gone he was just seeing the little lady get hurt, I can't imagine what kind of demon he'd unleash if someone dared to mess with you.
You made him a better man along with the little lady. You never forgot to include her in all your shenanigans with Kirishima. She started seeing you as a sort of older sibling. If Kirishima loves you, then you have to be amazing in her eyes.
You especially couldn't leave her out when you decide to bake some sweet chocolate treats for Toru.
An: I'm actually so insane over him you don't understand, this is my only outlet. I have to talk about him or I'm gonna explode 🩷
#toru kirishima#the yakuza's guide to babysitting#toru kirishima x reader#tōru kirishima#yakuza#scary men who are softies to kids#fluff#toru kirishima x gn!reader#toru kirishima fluff#fanfic writer#my writing#reader insert#im hyperfixating again
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