#Anyways yeah it was called the mood sock and now that person and I are writing a show abt sock puppets together I'm p sure that's fate for

[thepandalion]

tried looking for old pics of my dog, ended up playing myself into reading stuff I said as a 13 year old. Ik cringe culture is dead but I'm very much cringing over. Whatever the heck this is

[rivangel]

Ok sorry I will keep coming back for trans!levi. Please tell me, if I annoy you. But it’s just too good.

Could you write a comfort piece about him having an especially bad day and not wanting to tell? Cute fluff, maybe a bit angst - when you have some time of course.

Besides that: how are you? 🌻

this is a bit inspired lol. i’ve actually been coasting along kind of okay lately which is saying a lot for me fjfndjdj. i’ve even been SLEEPING (crazy). anyways, enjoy

//a lot of dysphoria, period mention

On days like this, it was a mistake to get out of bed. To take his (black) tea in the morning and leave a good morning note for you as he does every morning, then go out the door before the morning chill has given way to the still-too-hot autumn sun. Where morning was bright and grey, the moon not entirely asleep and the sun not entirely awake.

It was a mistake to drive to work and an especially big mistake to ignore the majority of your texts. He knows that. Today was just…

He thought he would be fine by the time he got home.

Except he’s not, and right when he steps into the foyer, the regret slams into him. You’re making dinner for him.

Levi slips off his shoes and long coat in a sort of absent daze, then plants himself on the couch before even thinking of entering the kitchen. He hugs his chest, closing his eyes to avoid facing the full brunt of the anxiety attack that’s been worming behind his ribcage for the better part of the afternoon.

When he hugs himself, he can feel the slight bulge of his chest through this loose stupid piece of shit binder, and squeezes tighter.

It wasn’t even old. You’d surprised him with a new one from the same brand he always shops from, only for the side stitching to split today, out of nowhere. It didn’t fit right, either.

…Even though it was the same size he always got. They were always a little tight, leaving angry red indentions until his arms and that gross underside of his chest uncomfortably sweaty.

But they worked better.

He should let you get onto him about it, he knows that, but he shrivels up at the idea of measuring his chest—using a bra or measuring tape, it doesn’t matter—and so he puts himself through this for the day-to-day peace of mind.

“Levi?” you call from close by, behind him. “Are you home?”

“Uh-huh.” He swallows with his eyes still closed. “Yeah.”

He hears the whispered approach of your socks on hardwood, so he’s able to relax when your hands land on his shoulders, and softly dig your fingers in.

“Work bad?” you ask softly.

It was a new job, an office job like he’d always done, and so the process of integrating himself as he was, was hard. Harder than your job, though he’d be remiss to admit that. You both moved a couple weeks ago, and you loved the house. He quietly agreed that it felt like home before you even started living in it, but there was always the challenges.

He passed fine enough. Mostly. Between the price of old college loans and the house, he can’t always afford hormones, he won’t burden you by making you pay what the insurance won’t cover—which isn’t a lot—and going on and off has dragged him into a whirlwind of personal problems. He doesn’t fit right in his skin right now, and his mood is a rollercoaster. His chest is usually sore, and his bleeding—damn him if he can just say it for what it is—is inconsistent and usually devastating.

Officially, on paper, he’s a man and his name is Levi. To his coworkers he’s a little off, and he gets comments like, Are you gay or something? You just kind of give off those vibes.

Stop it. She’s transgender, you know.

Oh, sorry! That’s gonna take me a while to get used to.

An avalanche of frustration. He knows he needs to be patient with people, people who don’t get it but are nice enough to go along, people who feel and express that they’re bad at the “pronoun thing” but swear to try. People who mean well.

And he ignores the people who don’t.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get stared at like a novelty. People poking and prodding with their eyes for signs of holes in his identity. For signs of tears in his costume. They’re everywhere.

“I’m fine,” he mutters. “Just the same shit.”

“I’ll put everything on simmer and come sit with you,” you reply, ignoring him. That’s probably for the better.

As a result of the binder tearing, they looked small, but too big to be pecs, and thinking back on it makes him sick. He can’t imagine what it’s like to be a woman if him as a man gets his tits and hips glanced at in what they think is covert, like these things are proof that he’s failing or something. His voice doesn’t matter. The way he carries himself doesn’t matter, either.

He thinks the last time he felt this bad was high school. The day in math—his favorite subject, shitty teacher—where they were to work in groups, sorted by gender. He teared up in the girl’s bathroom after because the nurse’s was taken.

Hence the coat he often wears (lucky he wore it today), and the slacks that are almost too big for him.

But covering up just seems to make him more obvious. They look at him, and they know. Doesn’t belong with the blonde moms still clinging onto their college days, or the cis men, young yuppies or grizzled men twice his age. Not the gay men or the more masculine women. He doesn’t feel like anything.

On days like today he wishes he could be invisible.

Fuming, he tears his shirt from its tuck and reaches up the side, feeling around. The tear stretches nearly halfway, hanging on by shredded strings.

Teeth grit, he tears it the rest of the way, even more enraged by how easily it gives. Maintaining just his identity is so precarious. It feels like stepping around glass shards.

While you’re still busying with the food, he fidgets aggressively with his shirt, pulls it over his head, followed by the useless binder. He throws it down, and, fuck, putting his shirt back on would just be embarrassing. It’s dirty and they’ll show even more now. He’s never nearly as discomforted by being himself around you as he is in public, but today was bad. He should just admit that.

Stupid shit.

He takes the shirt and cradles it to his chest, staring off past the TV fixed to the wall. He hates his chest. He hates his stupid excuse for a dick more than that.

Everything is just so wrong.

You round the couch, pause, but don’t speak as you settle down next to him. You set the frayed binder on the coffee table.

“It’s not your fault,” he mumbles. He wants to get the binder out of the way first. “They keep makin’ them worse.”

“Oh,” you sigh. “I’m sorry, baby. I can—”

“I’ll figure it out.”

He will, it just means wearing his old ones for a while. They’re looser than he’d like, but at least they won’t tear on him.

He says, “Tell me about your day instead.”

You lean forward some and kiss his cheek. You’re back to rubbing his back, tracing the creases in his skin with your thumb. “Can I hold you?”

He nods once. On days where his skin feels more fragile than cracked glass, it takes asking.

You pull him into your lap, leaned up against the arm of the couch. He squirms until he’s comfortable, resting his head on your shoulder and his socked feet threatening to spill onto the floor. His arms stay holding his chest.

“Welcome home, my handsome fiancé.”

He huffs a slight chuckle despite himself. It’s cheesy, but it makes him feel better.

You speak into his hair as you launch into a simple retelling of your day. Little things that’ll be forgotten by tomorrow. It inspires him, that maybe, that’ll be the case for him, too.

| levi masterlist | main masterlist |

[lukeevangelista]

five minutes - peyton krebs

sweet blue eyed boy. i’m sorry to do this

warning; few cuss words, a little angst, mentions of cheating; not edited per usual

———————————————————————————-

peyton. peyton krebs. the boy you had been in love with for the last year and half. the boy you finally gave a chance to while he was in vegas, him trying everything in his power to get you to go on a date with him. the day you finally agree, you thought you were going to have to sedate him, he was that excited. you two had been friends for a bit, you being friends with some of the younger wives and girlfriends.

and then it all happened. peyton had been traded to buffalo. he asked you to go with him, you obviously saying yes, which ended up being your first mistake.

peyton had cheated on you. him and some of his teammates were out after a good win against one of the better teams in the league and he cheated on you with some girl he had met at the bar, him not coming home until that next morning smelling of cheap perfume and lipstick stains of a red shade that you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing.

and why he thought it would be smart walking in like that when he knew you were home, you’ll never know.

that night, it all ended. you ended it with him, not giving him a chance to explain anything. he ended up going and staying at dylans’ that night. you told him not to come back for a couple of days so it would give you time to clear out the things you had, a couple of the buffalo girls willing to help you, but you shutting them down immediately. word had passed on quick to everyone about peytons’ mistake, but you didn’t want any help from anyone that had anything to do with him.

you didn’t want him to know anything and you knew the moment you continued letting people in from his life, word would get back to him.

that was until you received a text from peyton. he had a couple of things he had found of yours that he knew you would have wanted.

peyton krebs: hey. i know i’m the last person you want to hear from, but your mom sent some stuff to us in the mail and i figured you’d want it. i’m assuming you haven’t told her yet. but anyways, lmk if you want it and where you want to meet or whatever.

y/n: no i didn’t tell her because she’d ask why and i don’t what her to think bad of you, despite what you did. she loves you too much for that. but sure, bring them over. ill drop a pin for my addy.

he sent back a thumbs up, you locking your phone and throwing it on the couch.

now you might be asking, why wasn’t his number blocked if you were that upset? well.. honestly you thought it was, that was until you thought back to the night you got drunk and drunk dialed him, but luckily for you, he didn’t answer and he never reached out, which definitely helped you in the healing aspect. you knew this because you had went to call your roommate that next morning and saw the drunk dial. you prayed you didn’t leave a stupid voicemail, but knowing you, you probably did but hopefully, you’d never find out.

it had been a couple of days since peyton had reached out, you unsure of when he was actually going to pop by. luckily for you both, you had been home when he stopped by.

“hey, sorry for showing up unannounced.”

“that never stopped you before so what’s different now?” you muttered, him shrugging his shoulders at you.

“how have you been?”

“pey, lets not play the small talk game.” you gave him a tired look, “i’m really not in the mood.” you said as you held out your hand for the stuff he was holding as he took a seat on your couch. for a moment, everything felt normal in the silence that had taken over your rented home.

“i’m not playing any games, i was being genuine.” he commented back, “you look good.”

“i look like shit.” you lightly laughed as you looked down at the old old navy sweatshirt and the black leggings you had on, paired with some classic fuzzy socks.

“you don’t.” he whispered, “i promise, i’ve seen you at your worst.”

‘yeah my worst was because of you.’ you thought to yourself, but didn’t dare say that out loud. you two fell into a comfortable silence, which was odd with all things considering, as you opened the gift that your mom had sent you. it was just something small, but it meant well as it was something that reminded her of you and peyton.

but unfortunately for her, there was no you and peyton anymore.

“i opened it,” he commented, “i didn’t realize who it was from until after.”


“it’s fine peyton.” you sighed as you placed the small painting on the counter, throwing away the trash, “it’s not that big of a deal anyways. it was just her thinking of us- me.” you corrected yourself as your cheeks had a slight red tinge to them.

“i know.” he stated as he scrolled on his phone, staying put on the couch; almost like he didn’t want to leave.

“don’t you have another girl’s house you can go to?” you asked, annoyance lacing your tone as you cocked your head at him.

he rolled his eyes as he tucked his phone in his pocket, seeing you standing in front of him with your arms crossed before sucking in a deep breathe, admitting the words he had been wanting to say since he got to your place.

“i just miss you. i miss what we used to be.”

“you can’t just waltz in here and say that peyton. that’s not fair to me. you hurt me,” you hissed, “bad. i was broken because of you. i’ve finally put the pieces back together and you’re not going to ruin this for me.” finally, you had gotten it off your chest. you never had a chance to really speak your peace with the whole situation as you had cut communication between you two almost immediately after you found out.

“i know and i am so sorry. i really am.” he sighed as he looked up at you from the couch, “i never wanted this to end up like this. i really thought we were meant to last.” he said as his blue eyes met yours.

“i did too until you decided to lay in another girls bed, krebs.”

“you don’t realize how much i regret that to this day, y/n.” he whispered, “i’ll never not regret it because it..” he sighed.

“it what peyton?”

“it made me lose you.”

“why did you do it?” you asked, tears welling up in your eyes, “i never got closure, krebs. i want answers.” you kept on before a sob left your lips, “was i just not good enough for you?”

“what- no baby- y/n.” he said, correcting himself as he stood up, “don’t you dare ever say that again. you were everything and more. it was a mistake.” he whispered, “a stupid stupid mistake. i never deserved you and i still don’t.” he went to put his hands on your arms, him hesitating. you gave him a small nod, showing it was okay. he placed his hands on your shoulders before pulling you into his chest as sobs racked your body, “god, i’m so sorry. you don’t know how much i wish i could take it back. i wish i would have came home to you that night. you were everything to me, and still are. that will never change.” he whispered as he placed a light kiss to your forehead, “that’ll never change.”

“i think you should leave.” you sniffled as you pulled away from him.

“is there any way we can talk this out? or at least hear my side of everything?” he asked, “i really don’t think it’s what you thought it was.” he stated. you pondered on the idea for a couple of minutes, causing him to utter out one more word, “please?”

“i don’t know.” you started, “i don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“all i ask for is five minutes and then if you want me to leave you alone for good, i’ll do it.”

“five minutes krebs,” you pointed your finger at him, “that’s all you got and then you’re out.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Hello i would kill for some awkward Connor attempting to comfort Chris during training please and thank you

Follow-up to this piece from yesterday

CW: Pet whump, implied whump of a minor, bruising, some dehumanizing language, BBU, facility whump, creepy comfort, The Moral Standards of Monsters, some implied conditioning due to ableism (blink-and-you’ll-miss-it)

“Hey, Manning.”

Connor looks up from his lunch - he’s at his desk in his training room, a sandwich, bag of chips, and bottle of his iced coffee set out in front of him while he finishes up paperwork from the last trainee’s fitness reports - and sighs. Fucking Luke goddamn Petrus. “Yeah?”

For a second, his stomach flips. Linda swore up and down that the complaint would be anonymous, and Connor isn’t the only person in the hallway who has brought up the screaming being… irritating… but still.

Luke is Director Renford’s favorite in a big way, her loyal henchman, and he can make a handler’s life a living hell if he wants to.

Luke leans against the open doorway, giving him a bright smile. Above the expression, though, Luke’s blue eyes stay cold as ice. Like the Director, Connor thinks sometimes. Two fucking peas in a pod, and Connor’s always a little bit on the outside.

Lately, though, he’s been feeling kind of grateful he’s on the outskirts. The Director’s approval is something everyone works for, but having her focus on you too long and too thoroughly sounds as terrifying as her anger.

“I just got called up to a meeting with Renford.”

Renford. Like they’re buddies. Like he’s equals with her. Connor keeps his mouth shut, but he wonders how the Director would react if she knew he calls her Renford when she’s not right in front of him. “Good for you. I don’t see why that should affect my lunch break.”

“The meeting could last a few hours. I know you’ve got the afternoon off from trainee work. Would you mind keeping an eye on one of mine? He’s just out of a week in solitary, so he’s needy as fuck.”

Connor perks up a little at that. Needy trainee and unscheduled afternoon sounds like just the pick-me-up he needs today. “He need any training work?”

“Nah. Do whatever you want with him.” Luke gives Connor a wink. “He’s got some top notch fucking flexibility. Just saying. You can twist him into pretzels. Tell him he’s being good and he’ll do it all himself. Kid’s eager as fuck now that we’re past the halfway point.”

Kid?

Connor swears internally but keeps his expression carefully the same. “What do you mean, kid, Luke? Wait a sec-”

“I’ll bring him in, hold on!” Luke’s already gone from the doorway.

Connor has a sinking feeling of realization that Luke didn’t just randomly decide to leave a trainee with him. He must’ve figured out who put the fucking complaint in. And he knows that Connor hates the screaming, if he knows that.

Which means…

Luke reappears, and sure enough, the little redheaded trainee who is the cause of all the wailing and sobbing is right beside him.

No weights hanging from his hands this time, but there are deep red marks around his wrists and bruises at his upper arms just below his sleeves that suggest he’s done plenty of training work this morning, whatever Luke says.

Jesus, this kid is eerily beautiful. Pale skin, flushed in the aftermath of tears, with a smattering of freckles all over like constellations of stars. His hair’s that rare shining strawberry blond, with eyebrows pale enough to make him seem faintly inhuman. Connor wonders exactly which piece of shit with a thing for teenagers put the order in.

He wants to make sure he doesn’t vote for the guy.

Not that Connor Manning votes.

But maybe he’ll start, and then start purposefully voting for someone else. That's probably way more effort than he'll ever put in to anything that isn't work or Socks, but it feels kind of nice to think about it.

The trainee keeps his eyes carefully down on the floor. Connor notes he’s not even wearing the shock collar any longer - just your average band of black leather, buckled at the side, no padlock. Not only not being shocked, or not needing it, but already far enough along not to try and remove his own collar.

“Luke. I’ve told you how I feel about the underagers-”

“Yeah, and I’ve told you that you can judge me when you're an angel, numbnuts. You’re not better than me. You just have different victims.”

“Oh, the Director would have a shit-fit hearing you call the trainees victims.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m the only one who really grasps exactly what it is we do here, Manning. I just also happen to enjoy it. Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life, right?"

“Go fuck yourself, Petrus. I enjoy my job just fine.” Why is he defensive about this? Connor doesn’t quite understand the surge of irritation within him. Why does he give a fuck what Luke goddamn Petrus has to say about anything, anyway?

“Yeah, for now you do. We’ll see how it goes. I’ve been at this gig for a long time, I see the ones who flame out, and you’re one of them. Anyway, I’ve got to go meet with Renford, I’ll be back by three. If you get tired of him, just put him on the mat and I’ll pick him up when I’m done.”

“Yeah, okay.” Connor frowns, pushing himself to his feet. “I do like my job, Petrus.”

“For now. Bet I’ll be the only person here totally unsurprised when you quit one day.”

“I’m not going to quit.”

“I’ll bet you a thousand damn dollars you do, and I’ll raise the bet to fifteen hundred that it’s over your fucking conscience making a reappearance.”

“Don’t have one."

Luke just sighs, and gives Connor a patronizing little smirk before he turns and leaves. The trainee looks over his shoulder to watch Luke go, pleading with his eyes but not saying a word. The door shuts, and Connor and the trainee are alone.

Connor clears his throat, picking up the sandwich but finding he doesn’t really want it any longer. “What’s your number, trainee?”

The boy’s eyes snap back to him, briefly, before they drop to the floor. Connor notes with vague professional detachment that they’re red-rimmed. He’s been crying again, but then, when isn’t this fucking trainee crying?

When he’s screaming instead, Connor’s thoughts answer him.

God, he wishes these trainees didn’t get to him so much. He can’t talk to anyone about it, either, word will get out Connor Manning has regrets. Questioning the company is a good way to find yourself on the wrong end of a shock collar.

“223499, sir,” The boy says. His voice is low and soft, and each number and word is deliberately placed, as if he’s carefully pacing himself as he speaks. “Designation… Romantic-”

“Yeah, I knew that already. That’s all Luke does.” Connor leans his chin on his hand, looking the kid over. There’s solid muscle in that kid, he thinks, legacy of whatever life he lived before. It’s wasting away under the carefully calibrated malnourishment they’re all subjected to, but the memory of strength is in there, still. An easy, unconscious grace that didn’t have to be taught. “You’ve already done training work today?”

Those green eyes flash up at him again, nervous. Frightened. The boy shifts from foot to foot, then goes still. His fingers twitch before he pauses that, too. Connor watches it all with a kind of slightly repulsed interest. “Yes, sir. But… Handler Petrus said that… that if you want, you can-... can test me-”

“I don’t want,” Connor says heavily, cutting him off with a gesture. The boy’s mouth snaps shut instantly. “Not in the mood.”

There’s an expression of genuine confusion - when is a handler not in the mood? - that flits across the boy’s face. It’s a look of such comedic bafflement that Connor ends up laughing, shaking his head. He doesn’t even put his sexy, dark laugh on, but just snort-laughs naturally, before he walks over to the kid, watching him pull into himself, shoulders hunched.

“Relax, kid. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The kid’s nose wrinkles. It’s adorable. “But… all you do… is hurt us.”

Luke’s fucking technique, Connor thinks. Luke’s trainees don’t forget anything he’s taught them, to be sure, but they never quite learn how to act like they’re in love with it, either. Connor can turn out a trainee who genuinely thinks he’s in love. Luke turns out trainees who hate everything they can’t stop themselves from doing.

Some perspectives are into that, he supposes. Connor thinks he’d rather have the act.

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to do that today. Come on,” Connor says, and his voice gentles a little. “I’ve got plenty to keep myself busy with. Why don’t you lay down on the mat and get some sleep while I work?” He puts a hand on the boy’s shoulder, feeling him trembling slightly through the thin cloth of his white trainee t-shirt. The boy moves when he’s nudged, carefully stepping across the room, tense as a wire about to snap.

“Are you-... are you going to, to, to, to, um-” The boy flinches back from an expected punishment when he stammers. "Silence is, is better than stammering, try again, silence is better than-... try again." The kid mutters to himself, takes a deep breath, tries again. "Are you... going to... give me a pill?"

Connor pulls his hand back, frowning. Now it’s his turn to look confused.

What the fuck is even going on with this kid?

“Nah. I don't even keep them in my training room. No worries, kid.” He pitches his voice low, soothing, reassuring. “The only thing I intend to do is finish up some papers, go take a smoke break outside, and then come back and get set up for my next rounds at seven before I head out. This is a real break. Okay? I’m not even interested in whatever it is Handler Petrus is doing with you. I just want to do my job.”

The kid looks at him. He’s almost always seen him drugged out of his gourd, barely able to focus on anything not right in front of his face. Right now, though, there’s a sense that the boy is considering his words, actually able to think about them. “Yes, sir. I can-... I, I can lay down?” 

 “Yeah, go for it.” Connor waves his hand again, moving back to his desk.

“Thank you, sir.” The kid’s gratitude is pathetic. Connor has to give Luke that, he does know how to make a trainee say thank you for just about anything. Connor’s method takes more work to get to that than Luke’s.

But Connor doesn’t have to drug his trainees to do it. And he doesn’t work with kids.

Shit. Maybe I am going to wind up with a conscience. Handlers get fired over that.

Or worse.

After a pause, watching him go, the kid kneels down, then lays down on his stomach, making as much contact with the heated mat as he can. There’s a soft exhale, something almost like contentment. Connor watches those tensed, probably painful muscles slowly relax. His bare feet start to rub against each other, back and forth, back and forth.

There’s a blanket nearby, and the boy hesitantly grabs at it, pulls it over himself. Breathes out, eyes fluttering shut as warmth surrounds him utterly for what’s probably the first time in a while. Or at least warmth that doesn’t come with certain conditions.

Connor’s eyes trace the line of the boy’s jaw - there’s a bruise there, too, like a thumb pressed too hard into delicate skin. Coppery eyelashes lay flat, long enough to just brush his cheek. His hair falls over his forehead and eyes.

It’s like looking at a fucking painting.

“Jesus, you’re pretty as hell, aren’t you?”

The boy’s eyebrows furrow, briefly, but he doesn’t open his eyes or pull back from the mat. He curls up tighter under the blanket, disappearing up to his chin.

Connor turns back to his work, filling out a questionnaire. He’s still working at it when he hears, just barely, the boy’s soft reply to his question.

“I, I, I wish I wasn’t.”

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

[mrkcore]

𝐄𝐏 𝟏: 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓 - 𝐥.𝐡𝐜

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lee donghyuck x fem!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: college!au (cs - computer science major haechan, psychology major y/n)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, slight angst

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): suggestive innuendo(s), infidelity, drinking

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐚/𝐧: the first chapter of the and they were roommates! series :D send in an ask or comment here to be added to the taglist! (sorry for the delay, i have been really unproductive so uh, yeah)

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

you’ve been stuck with haechan for about a month. you’ve successfully avoided him for the majority of the time, he’s still a bit flirty, but he’s been pretty quiet too.

except for when he streams. did he mention that he was a streamer? unfortunately no, you had to find out the hard way.

“haechan, can you fucking tone it down?” you storm into his room after enduring half an hour of his screaming on a thursday night. “i have an essay due tomorrow and it’s 30 percent of my mar-”

you see a professional looking mic, webcam, and another monitor with what seems like comments flowing in constantly on the screen.

“oh…” you trail off taking in all the equipment in front of you as haechan looks up at you.

“oh hey, sorry about that, jeno and renjun were being noobs and i needed to teach them a lesson, chat knows. i’ll keep it down, sorry.” he turns back to his game in front of him, completely unbothered.

“yeah.. uh sorry for barging in, thanks.” you say quickly and dash out his room, hearing the other voices from his headset laugh.

your face is hot, and you feel so embarrassed. 

anyways, lesson learned.

a few days later, you were complaining to your friend about haechan on a zoom call–as usual.

this time, however, she needed to spill the tea about her thoughts.

“ma’am, what is this tension,” she jokes. “i can feel it from miles away.”

“hey!” you snap back. “need i remind you that i have a boyfriend? and haechan? ew no, he gets on my nerves too much for that.”

“oh right, your boyfriend.” she rolls her eyes.  “i think you need to visit him, you’re so uptight all the time, i’m gonna get wrinkles if you keep complaining to me about shit.”

“oh right, restrictions have been slightly lifted, i can probably go visit him.” you remember reading about it in the news.

“yep, go.” your friend sips on her iced coffee and you laugh.

the next day, you go through with your plan to go visit your boyfriend.

all prepped and ready and you were going to walk out the door before you hear haechan coming out his room.

“oh, good morning, i’ll be out for a bit, maybe the whole day.” you say to him.

“good morning.” he yawns. “look at you all dolled up and pretty, where you going?” he smirks as you roll your eyes.

“visiting my boyfriend,” you scowl out. “now if you’ll excuse me, i better get going.”

“oh great, hope you enjoy your time with him.” he smiles and you think he’s going to be nice for once. “don’t forget protection.”

you groan. of course he had to ruin it.

“thanks haechan.” you yell behind you as you walk out the door.

it takes around 1 hour to drive to your boyfriend’s university, and an additional 10 minutes to his apartment, and you’re giddy the whole time. 

you’ve missed human interaction. 

and no, lee haechan does not count. 

you’ve missed the warmth and fuzzy feeling of an embrace, of having someone’s arms around you, protecting you from the outside world. 

you couldn’t wait to get cuddles.

hopefully your boyfriend likes this surprise.

gleefully walking into the building, pressing in the password to his apartment complex. completely missing the creaking coming from his room, but as you entered, you hear the voice of another person, who was definitely not your boyfriend.

you stomp right up to the door, and push it open.

there’s two people in the bed, and your eyes glower at your boyfriend.

“what?” the girl screams, scrambling to cover herself.

“babe?” your boyfriend is frozen on the spot as the girl looks at him as if he just said the most bizarre thing ever.

“babe?” she seems angry now. “you said you were single? what the fuck?”

“yeah, i think he lied to you.” you say coldly. “do you have anything to confess, ‘babe’?”

“you’re a douche, what the fuck.” she gets up and gets dressed. “i’m so sorry, he told me he was available, i would literally never agree to sleep with anyone who’s taken.”

“yeah, it’s okay.” you say, kind of relieved, and the two stare are you like you’re an alien. “at least now i know what type of person i was dating.”

and you turn to walk out.

“wait, babe please.” your ex tries to run after you. “y/n, let me explain.”

“no need to, we’re over.” you turn to say. “you need a ride?” you ask the girl.

“yeah sure.” she says. “don’t call me.”  

“babe please, can we talk this out?”

you couldn’t believe it. you drove 1 hour to see him and he has the audacity to pull this shit and expect you to just easily forgive? nope, lesson learned.

pfft, and he said long distance would work. 

“no we can’t, now if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere else to be.” you grab the girls arm and walk out the door, slamming it in front of your ex’s face before he can catch up.

“do you have any plans for the rest of today?” you ask the girl after entering your car. she shakes her head while you smile. “great, any bar or night club recommendations you have?”

“uhh, bar then nightclub?” she suggests. 

“i like the way you think.” you giggle. “i’m y/n btw.”

“yina.” she smiles back at you as you pull out of the parking lot. 

a few hours later, and way too many drinks in, you’re at a table with yina, spilling your deepest secrets about your relationship with your ex.

“can you believe he made me wash his socks?” you take a sip before continuing. “and with my hands too!”

“what? that’s disgusting!” she listens to you rant in disbelief.

“yeah, he said that his socks were precious and the washing machine was too harsh on the cotton or some crap.” you snicker as you recall the other stupid stuff he told you. “ah the shit i did for love.”

“men are trash,” yina says. “cheers to that.” and you both down the rest of what’s left of your drink.

fast forward another 2 hours, you’re wasted. absolutely wasted. 

yina held you back a little bit, but its no use. you needed this.

“y/n, it’s like 11 pm, you’re drunk, i’m barely sober, i think we should call someone to come and get us.” yina tries to reason with you while you shake your head.

finally after 10 minutes of bickering, you finally agree.

“here’s my phone, you can call anyone.” you rest your head on your folded hands after handing her your unlocked phone. “anyone but haechan.” you start to doze off. “anyone but haechan…”

“hbbhng” you jolt up, feeling the warmth of your own bed. 

how did you get back home?

groaning, you feel your headache. you feel the vomit coming up your throat as you gag.

you almost fall trying to get out of your covers.

“woah there, be careful.” haechan is suddenly barging into your room, holding onto you so you don’t fall on your face, guiding you to your bathroom.

you’re too nauseous to wonder why he’s even helping you or even bother screaming at him like usual.

he pats your back soothingly as you vomit into the toilet.

“there you go, that’s it. i’ve got you.” he reassures you.

“what are you even doing helping me?” you’ve washed up and downed some water, you’re 100% sober now.

“wow,” haechan chuckles, rolling his eyes. “after saving your ass last night, this is the thank you i get?”

“what do you mean you saved me?” you’re genuinely confused by what he means.

“this yina girl called me from your phone, telling me that you’re blacked out drunk in a nightclub at 11:32 PM, on a saturday. asking me to come and get you.” he says, matter-of-factly. “i call a cab, get to the nightclub, haul your ass out the club, drive yina back home, and then us. where during our commute back, you wake up, start crying, and when we get home, you’re bawling about how your boyfriend cheated and you were a dumbass for thinking he would change. remember now?”

you’re in shock.

yina called haechan? you remember clearly that you told her not to, this is so embarrassing. you even cried about your ex to him? oh dear lord you wanted to crawl back into your room into a deep pit and never come out. 

haechan must’ve noticed your distressed expression because his face turns softer.

“hey hey hey, sorry, that was a bit mean. you just got out of a relationship, that was really inappropriate of me and i do not blame you for wanting to relax a bit.” he tries to comfort you once again. you’re in even more shock by his words. “honestly, me driving you back home, and taking care of you was the least i could do. it would have been so mean if i just left you guys there.”

you wanted to burst out into tears. 

this is the nicest thing you’ve heard in about 6 months.

unfortunately, haechan doesn’t know that.

“oh gosh, jheez, i’m not helping aren’t i.” he’s panicked by your emotional state. “uhm, to make it up to you, i’ll watch one of those scary movies with you?”

your tears instantly are sucked back into your eyes in excitement.

“really?” you ask, just making sure.

“yep, ahaha.” he laughs nervously, but happy to see your mood lighten up.

“you free tonight?” bouncing up and down practically.

“yeah…” haechan is a bit scared. “aren’t you going a bit too fast though, princess? you jut got out of a relationship.”

you gasp and slap him in the arm.

“okay okay! that was a joke. yeah i’m free, i have an essay due, but i’ll be done by 6.” haechan says.

“sounds good!” you b-line for the kitchen, your stomach is completely empty. “see you then haechan!”

oh how haechan regrets his offer.

6 o’clock rolls by, and you choose “the shining” to watch with haechan. anticipating the terror it would bring him. 

and you were right.

every jumpscare, even the smallest sounds, haechan would screech in fright. the last straw for him was the knock on your door.

“AHHHH!” he screams, almost knocking the popcorn out of your hands.

“calm down, dude.” you say, standing up to open the door.

to the unfortunate sight of your ex.

“y/n?” he says, softly.

“what are you doing here? how did you find out where i lived?” you were very sure you never gave him your dorm address.

“your friend gave it to me,” the eye bags he has are very evident. “listen, can we talk?”

“no?” haechan suddenly butts into the conversation. “you literally cheated on her, she doesn’t owe you anything.”

“who are you? her rebound?” your ex frowns. 

“her roommate, and if you even bothered to keep up with y/n, you’d know.” haechan returns the frown.

“it’s between me and y/n, you have no business telling us what to do.” your ex is getting more aggressive now.

“that’s funny, i was the one who was called to drive her home while she was out drunk, i was the one who listened to her talk about how she regretted believing you again, i was the one who held her hair back when she was vomiting this morning from her hangover.” haechan again returns the energy. “you tried to contact her, but she blocked your number and you had to get her address from her friend. you never even cared to ask her beforehand, and now you wanna try and show up to seem like you care? bullshit. now if you’ll excuse us now, we have a movie to finish.” he slams the door in his face and haechan surprises you for the millionth time today.

your ex bangs on the door for about 3 minutes before giving up, and you guys sit in silence as the movie still plays.

“hey haechan.” you try and start.

“AHHH!” he screams again, scaring you this time.

“JHEEZ BRO I WAS TRYING TO START A CONVO, CHILL OUT.” you scream back.

“okay, i’m fine, yeah sorry, continue.” haechan pants out.

“thanks for that.” you say, genuinely. “not even joking, you didn’t have to do that.”

“well i did, because that dude was a douche. literally having the guts to come over here and try and ask for forgiveness after he cheats. unbelievable.”

“yeah.” you fiddle with your fingers anxiously.

“i like this side of you,” haechan breaks the awkwardness. “you’re usually uptight, little-miss-perfect, and cranky, so i like this raw side of you.”

“mhm, i realized that now. sorry for being such a bitch.” you admit.

“no, i honestly deserve it. but i hope we can be friends now, it would be great to have real conversations with someone, you know?” he says.

“seriously?” you hit him in the chest as he chuckles.

“i’m joking! i swear. but seriously, friends?” he asks.

“yeah, friends.” 

and that’s where it started.

© mrkcore. 2021.

[sorryjustafangirl]

it’s a love story

a/n:  this is my submission for the @doubleminor​’s #hockeychallengemusic ! im so so super late but i finally had the time to write this. the toronto six of the nwhl have this as their winning song and i loved watching them celebrate this season. and apparently all i can write is matty tkachuk but i felt he really fit this idea

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x reader

Work count: 2.2k+

warnings: mentions of the pandemic and one swear but other than that just fluff :)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and real person fiction if you don’t like that, please don’t read! also the gif isn’t mine! all credit to the fantastic gif-maker!

prompt: choose an official team/player goal song and make something using that goal song // found here 

He had wanted the proposal to be perfect. The moment he knew you were the one he wanted to marry, he asked your best friend for everything you had ever mentioned about a proposal. You were only going to get proposed to once, and he wanted to make sure it was perfect. 

Secluded, yet meaningful, place? Check. 

Get it on camera? Check. 

Cute outfit with nails done? Check. 

But a global pandemic was not in his plan. Not even close. 

When the season had got put on pause, his parents suggested he come back to St. Louis to spend time with them, since Brady was coming back too. He was hesitant to go considering you were still going into the office for an essential project, but you assured him that he should go spend time with his family. He didn't get to see them a lot, and you knew he missed them. When he packed, he made sure to take the little velvet box and shove it between his socks. He didn't want to risk you finding it while he was away. 

A couple weeks later, after many FaceTimes and virtual date nights, you finished your project and work gave you the all clear to work from home. A two week quarantine and one plane ride later, you had joined him in St. Louis. You were still working, but working from the Tkachuk's home and with your boyfriend was much better than working alone in your shared apartment. 

Since you had joined the family, Taryn had noticed her oldest brother was a little jumpier than usual. Before, he was more carefree, aside from the occasional moping, and he definitely wasn't making sure his bedroom door was closed whenever he went in there alone. But now? It seemed odd. He wasn't moping, but he had those moments when he seemed too sad for it just to be about the season.  

So after Matthew's third sigh and retreat to his room while you were working, she decided it was time for an intervention. She quietly followed him to his room, where he methodically closed it and made sure it clicked. 

***

It was the second time today Matthew had looked at the box today. He knew he was torturing himself, opening the box to look at the ring he had picked out. It wasn't too flashy, something just your style. He remembered the way his heart jumped when he saw it in the store. It instantly reminded him of you and he just knew it was the one. It was like he couldn't help himself, looking at the box another time.

You could’ve already been engaged by now. The two of you could’ve been looking at venues and dates and even if he said he never really cared about that stuff… he couldn’t help but long for those things, because it would mean it was real. The two of you would be getting married, and he’d get to be your husband. 

But instead of being engaged, he’d just have to stare at the ring and wish he could make this all go away so he could give you the proposal you’ve always wanted. He relived the time he knew you were the one, anything to remind him that you wouldn’t mind waiting until this pandemic was over to get engaged. 

It was a home game against the Senators. Nothing speculator, just a regular game that they unfortunately lost in OT. Because it was against the Sens, and because he scored the only goal of the game, Matt knew he’d be chosen for press. He was tired, and there was nothing he wanted more than to see his family who had made the trek out to Calgary to see the boys play. He left the dressing room with his tie a little crumpled from the rush to meet them. 

He turned the corner to see Taryn sitting on a bench, with Brady standing with his parents, probably cracking a joke based on the way his mom was playfully glaring at Brady while his dad laughed loudly. His mood picked up a little after the interview and the loss.

As he got closer, he realized that Taryn wasn’t sitting alone. You were sitting there, your head resting against her shoulder, your eyes slightly closed. He stopped in his tracks when he saw your work bag sitting in your lap and your suitcase beside you. Your flight was supposed to get in around 8 and he had insisted that you just meet him at home after the game. This work trip had been horrible, your co-worker throwing you under the bus in a meeting with executives on a project he didn’t work on. You deserved to be relaxing with a glass of wine in the sanctity of your shared apartment. But you were here, at his game, straight from the airport, laughing with his family despite your drooping eyes. He had never felt more loved than he did right there. 

A knock startled him from his thoughts. 

“Uhh... just a second!” He snapped the ring box shut and quickly stood up from the bed to shove it in his drawer. Taryn popped her head in to see him very suspiciously standing in front of his dresser.

“It’s just me, dork. What are you doing?” She entered his room, making herself comfy on his bed. He scoffed, and closed the door behind his sister. 

“I’m not doing anything. What are you doing?” He went back to standing by the dresser and Taryn rolled her eyes.

“That’s exactly it, you’re doing nothing. Normally, when we’re all home you’re like bouncing off the walls. Like I know this time it’s different but Y/n came too so I thought… I don’t know, you just seem off but Brady didn’t think so and I didn’t want to worry Mom… so like, what’s going on? Is everything okay? Are you and Y/n fighting?” 

His eyes bugged out and Taryn would have laughed if she wasn’t so serious. “What no! We’re fine! We’re fine, why-why would you say that?” 

“You’ve been quiet Matt. You’re never quiet, especially when Brady’s home with us.” He rolled his eyes and she huffed at her older brother. “You know it’s true! So... what’s going on?” He sighed and turned to find the box from the drawer. He looked down at the velvet in his hands as he sat on the edge of the bed. Taryn moved to be sitting beside him and gasped quietly. 

“Is that...?” 

“Yeah. I was going to...you know, before the world went to shit. I had it all planned out too. The weather was getting warmer and there’s this hiking trail we like in Banff, it’s only like an hour drive. There’s this perfect spot where I could prop my phone up so I could get it on camera, just like they wanted. But now... I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

“Do you still want to, you know, propose?” 

“’Course I do. Honestly, I want nothing more. But, they deserve it to be perfect, you know? And like, I don’t know how I could surprise them here, because we’ve been chilling in the same sweatpants for the past week! Asking them to get dressed up would seem suspicious and I want it to be a surprise,”

“Could… could I help you? I might have an idea…” She grinned towards her brother, his eyes brightening at the idea of marrying you. 

***

“Y/N, do you want to do a TikTok with me?” She called to you from across the Tkachuk’s backyard. Taryn must’ve been feeling the quarantine because yesterday the two of you did your nails together, which prompted you to, for once, put on a pair of pants that weren’t Matty’s sweatpants and do your hair, so you had no problem setting down your book and hopping up from your seat to join her. She squealed and you laughed as you joined her. 

“It’s so easy! I promise! So, it’s to a remix of Taylor Swift’s ‘Love Story’ and the only set in stone parts are that you actually kneel when she says ‘knelt to the ground’ and then the camera will start to pull away and then you just freestyle! We can do a couple practice ones before we film it for real, if you want?” 

“Yes, please, you have severely overestimated my dancing skills,” you laughed. Right at that moment, Matthew came out of the house with a Bud Light in his hand. He placed it on the edge of the firepit before walking over to you.

“What’s got you all cracked up?” He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Taryn thinks I’m a good enough dancer to film this TikTok on my first try,” He grinned at you. 

“A TikTok you say? Can I do it too? If you can do it surely it’s easy enough for me,” You gave him a playful eye roll and laughed. 

“How bored are you to want to film a TikTok?” 

“I want to spend time with my girlfriend, is that a crime?” He smirked and you cracked a smile.  

Taryn spoke up. “Hey no, this would be perfect! I need to move the camera away from you when you’re dancing anyways, and this way you won’t be alone. And you’ll get Matt’s dancing on camera for future blackmail!” You laughed at her comment and slugged him lightly in the arm. 

“Game on, we’ll see who's the better dancer after this,” He just laughed and then told you to tell what the heck he was doing for this dance. After a while, the two of you were ready to film. 

Taryn got behind her phone and started the music. You got into position and bumped Matthew’s hip before facing the camera. 

Is this in my head, I don’t know what to think. He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring and said

You knelt down and pretended to open a ring box, while Matthew pulled out the box he’d been hiding for six months. 

Marry me Juliet, you’ll never have to be alone

You started to dance as Taryn pulled the camera away from the both of you. Lost in the music, you didn’t seem to notice that Matthew was still on one knee, an adoring smile on his face. 

“Y/n,” 

I love you and that’s all I really know

You stopped dancing and glanced to your side. “Oh my god,” Your hands flew to cover your mouth as you saw Matt still on one knee, but with a black box in his hands. “Are you joking?”

“Not joking, baby, I promise.” He opened the box to reveal the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. It was classy, with just enough bling to catch your eye and go with the rest of your jewelry. Your eyes filled with tears as he started to speak. 

“Y/n, you are the best person I have ever met. I never thought someone would be willing to put up with me, not with my job and the media and how I play my game, but then I met you, and it’s like the whole world shifted. I have fallen more in love with you every day, even the past few days when we do the same thing every day. I love you so much, babe, and all I want is to keep being your person. I know my job means I’ll have to leave sometimes, but with me, with this, I promise you’ll never be alone. I want to be your husband and I want us to have little mini-us’s running around, well really mini-you’s but with my hair, because let’s face it, they aren’t escaping the curls,” You let out a teary laugh, and you could see his shoulder visibly relax a little. “When I look to my future, all I see is you. You are my future. And I know this isn’t perfect or even ideal but..”

“No, no, Matty, it’s perfect.” You whispered, your eyes full of tears. “It’s perfect because it’s with you.”

His grin widened if that was possible, and he looked down at the box in his hands before up to you. “If that’s the case, then Y/n, will you make me the happiest man on Earth and marry me?” 

“Yes! Yes, yes, of course,” You bent down to kiss him, leaving your tears on his cheek when you pulled away. He slipped the ring onto your finger and swept you into a bear hug. “Oh my gosh, we’re going to get married!”

“It’s you and me, baby, for the rest of our lives.” He tried to smirk, but it didn’t last long, a smile covering it as the euphoria overcame him. 

“Okay, okay, show me the ring!! Matthew didn’t tell me he was proposing!” Chantel came out in the backyard with a bright grin on her face. You couldn’t contain the smile on your face and the two of you admired the ring together. 

“I didn’t tell Dad either, don’t get offended,” Matthew said, coming over to meet the both of you. 

“Oh, you liar! You totally called me and asked me for advice.” Keith chimed in with a laugh. “Granted, you never told me you were going to do it today… but I’m happy for you kids.”

“I didn’t think he’d ever get the guts to propose, sorry for the wait Y/n,” Brady chirped, earning a whack from his mother. 

“I don’t mind, he’s worth the wait.” You looked to your fiancé, only to find him already looking at you, his blue eyes gleaming full of warmth. “So worth the wait.”

let me know what you think! thanks for reading!

[hargrove-mayfields]

the tags on your football Billy story about autistic kids not being allowed to play sports, gave me the idea of Steve with autism not being allowed on the basketball team and how Billy and maybe Tommy if you want since you write kegboys sometimes would react

It doesn’t take Billy long to notice him, the benchwarmer boy who sits on the sidelines, never getting his shot in a single game, just riding the bench with a smile on his face.

At first he sort of pegs it to mean the kid is just really not good, maybe riding the tails of his daddy’s sportsmanship legacy, but then Billy realizes something, that this kid doesn’t even get to play at practice.

He shows up and he sits there like being excluded is the happiest he’s ever been, and the only time he ever has the ball in his hands at all is if it’s to toss it to one of the boys on the court when it rolls to him.

Despite this though, he has his very own jersey. Number zero. Harrington.

Billy asks Tommy after practice once who this mysterious jersey kid is, and he smiles sort of tight, like maybe Billy shouldn’t have asked him that, and tells him, “I’ll introduce you.”

Tommy walks over to the kid and tells him something that makes him light up, jump to his feet and follow Tommy back over, “Billy, this is my best friend, Steve Harrington.”

Steve just sort of waves, so Billy jumps straight into it. This kid intrigues him and he wants to know more, “There a reason you don’t play, Harrington?”

In response he shrugs his shoulders, hands stuffed in the pockets of his way too big basketball shorts, “I’m not allowed.”

“Why not? You fail some test or something?” Billy tries to ask lightly, not noticing the way Tommy’s face scrunches up before Steve drops a bombshell on him instead, “They don’t let special ed kids on the basketball team.”

And if that’s not bad enough, Tommy then adds, though significantly more bitter than even Steve is, “Or on any team for that matter, whether it’s sports or clubs or debate, you name it. School board denies every last application.”

“Oh.” Billy frowns, totally dumbfounded, his school in California never had any issues with that, “Oh that- that’s bullshit.”

“I know.” They say at the same time, prompting Billy to ask, “They don’t even have like, a separate team?”

“Not enough kids would do it.” Tommy says, and he gets a sharp look from Steve, who corrects him quickly, “Not enough kids could get permission to do it.”

“But that’s such bullshit.” Billy repeats, not very helpfully.

“Nothing we can do about it. We’ve tried everything. Not even momma Harrington could convince the school board, and let me tell you, that woman is scary.”

Steve elbows Tommy for that one, and Tommy laughs softly, throws an arm around his shoulder, but Billy is thinking, biting the corner of his nail in concentration, “Why don’t we start our own team?”

“I don’t know.” Steve’s face scrunches up, and he turns to Tommy, like he doesn’t trust what Billy says, so Billy continues, “No, I’m serious. School says you can’t play for them, so fuck ‘em. There’s courts in the park, I have a ball, and I’m out there half the time watching my little sister anyways. Let’s start our own team.”

Tommy answers for him, “Practice takes up too much time. We’re not gonna be much of a team unless we’re going to be playing at night or in the winter.”

“Then we quit the tigers.” Billy shrugs, like it’s obvious.

Instantly Tommy narrows his eyes, “Very funny, man.”

On the other hand though, Steve looks at him with awe written all over his face, eyes wide and spelling, “You’d really quit for me?”

And Billy, he plays it off like that look doesn’t make his heart melt, claiming, “For you and for Max who’s been talking my ear off about how much she wants to play soccer and whose heart is going to break when she finds out she can’t.”

Convinced, Tommy looks over at Steve, “If you’re in Stevie, I’m in too.”

Steve seems like he’s considering his options, drumming his fingers on the outside of his thigh, occasionally humming softly in thought, and it’s making Billy impatient.

“So?” He asks, to which Steve nods a confirmation to his offer, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Tommy cracks a crooked smile, holds out a hand for Billy to shake, seal the deal, “You’ve got yourself a team, Hargrove.”

They decide not to give their little team a name, the idea of being called something feels too exclusive, which was the reason they’d all quit the school's team in the first place. Billy had gotten in big trouble when his dad found out he quit for wasting their time and money on basketball, but that was all bullshit anyways, games were only usually a half hour long and were free to get into for the players family, and the school paid for the uniforms.

But that was what he said and what he’d been going to punish Billy for until they found out about the reasoning behind quitting, after which Susan was flattered he cared so much about his little sister, and he got his permission to freely go down to the park and play with the “special” kid.

Neil of course didn’t care about him doing it for Max, he was just concerned with Billy’s public image. Playing ball with the richest family in town's dopey son did nothing but good things for the way their neighbors saw him, so he’d allow it.

A few weeks into their games though, which are mostly just playing HORSE or teaching Steve how to do trickier shots since no coach ever would, Billy has to bring Max along because nobody was going to be home and she wasn’t allowed to be by herself. It’s a dreary day so there aren’t many people around at all, so he decides he’s going to loosen her leash, and walks her over to the playground (that they can see clearly from the courts, he’s not that irresponsible.)

He teasingly offers to push Max on the swings or lift her up to the monkey bars, making her roll her eyes and proudly declare that she’s not a baby anymore, so he chuckles and leaves her be, walking back to the basketball hoops.

Tommy and Steve are just sitting on the old wooden bench just off to the side of the court, waiting for Billy to get back because he’s their little impromptu coach and they can’t start without him, but he notices that they’re sitting awful close together, and between them, Tommy’s hand sits slightly on top of Steve’s, pinky fingers linked together.

Now he knows these two are affectionate, he couldn’t even count how many times Tommy picked Steve up after he made a good shot or ruffled his hair and smiled at him when he messed up, but that was all just friendly affection.

This was different though, he could tell it was from the way Tommy’s eyes snap up and he pulls his hand away, the both of them looking away from each other guiltily.

He feels a little something like jealousy in his chest, or maybe it was just anxiety at the fact that they’d been so obviously holding hands in the public park, but either way, he just kind of freezes up, looking between their two terrified faces until Tommy’s turns angry, standing from the bench so fast the old rusty things creaks loudly and Steve has to cover his ears.

He grabs the front of the baggy jersey Billy wears from his old school's team, the bears, and gets right up in his face, sneering, “You gonna say something, Hargrove?”

And Billy’s not afraid of Tommy, he might be mean, but he’s on his toes to threaten him, and he’s pretty sure they both know Billy would win the fight anyways. He’s not going to fight him though, and he makes that clear, putting his hands up as a clear sign of not going to sock Tommy for yelling at him, “Secrets safe with me, dudes. You go down, I’m going down with you.”

Tommy doesn’t get it though, because he growls, “Right. ‘Cause all that matters is what will happen to your reputation after giving up your precious sport just to hang with a couple of fags, right?”

“Tom.” Steve snaps, but he gets ignored, Billy arguing over him, “Actually, no. You know all that talk about queer kids flocking together without even knowing? That doesn’t come from nothing. I out you, it’s putting a target on my back, and from there it won’t be not long before a little birdie tells the wrong person the right rumor and we’re all dead.”

“Oh.” Tommy says softly, his face falling.

Billy nods sarcastically in response, “Yeah, oh. So let go of my damn shirt before I find a reason to punch you in the face.”

“Can we just play basketball?” Comes a timid request from behind them, so Tommy lets go, wipes his hands on his shorts, and answers him, “‘Course we can, Stevie.”

It doesn’t take long for them to get bored though, none of them are really in the mood to play after that. They play a small game that’s pretty much just Tommy blocking Billy the whole time, but after he shoots the ball they all just let it roll, none of them caring enough to keep the play going. So instead, Tommy offers up his place to hang out there.

It sounds at least better than this, so Billy drops Max off back at home, making her promise not to do anything stupid to get them in trouble until he gets back later that night, and heads straight to Tommy’s like they planned.

The whole drive he’s worrying that they’re gonna pissed at him and beating himself up for not just pretending like he didn’t notice, to the point where he almost just drives right past, but Steve waves at his car from the front window, and he can’t do all this petty angry shit to him.

Tommy’s house is empty for the night, so that means two things, that they’re free to drink as much as they want, (smoking’s a no go though, the smell is too strong and makes Steve upset), and that Steve sits right on Tommy’s lap like it’s nothing.

Which, it is nothing. Billy just told them he was gay too, and now they don’t have to hide from their best friend, so it’s common sense that they wouldn’t.

But Billy, well, he wouldn’t say he’s jealous watching the two of them together, it just makes his chest burn every time they touch or laugh at some joke and whisper amongst themselves like he isn’t even there, or when Steve kisses Tommy’s cheek.

Yeah no, there’s no pretending, Billy is totally jealous. He’s had a thing for Tommy since like, day one of practice when he bounced a basketball back in his own face trying to show off, and Steve for just as long, yearning to know more about the pretty faced mystery kid who turned out to be a total sweetheart and won him over. It’s tearing him to shreds watching them just being happy together without being a part of that.

He wonders if these small town boys have ever even heard of having more than one partner other than like, mormons, and if they haven’t, how is he supposed to bring it up without sounding like a total weirdo. Maybe he could claim that he was just trying not to be left out since they were probably the only queer kids in Hawkins. Or maybe not and Tommy would try to kick his ass again for even trying.

He doesn’t have to do much wondering though, because as pointedly as he’s trying to ignore them, Steve keeps getting closer to Billy on the couch until he’s sitting in his lap, and Billy has to ask, blue eyes going a little wide, cheeks flushing red in a way that had nothing to do with the sunburn he’d gotten at the park earlier, “What’re you doing Steve?”

“You included me. Now I’m including you.” Steve hums and leans his head on Billy’s shoulder, holding eye contact with Tommy.

To say that Billy is flustered and doesn’t know what to do with himself is more than an understatement. He'd like to say he’s not the most inexperienced one here, but it’s not looking good, because he’s flushed as red as a tomato, and the only thing he can think to say is just, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Tommy says and smiles that big goofy smile of his, a playful imitation of their little argument from before, “And I’d much rather you kiss me than punch me.”

[sleepdeprivedsloth]

The Beginning of Birthday Traditions

[MHA - Bakusquad]

summary: The Bakusquad has trouble coming up with a way to wake up Bakugou for a midnight birthday celebration that doesn’t result in them being buried six feet under. Mina then reveals a plan that would get the birthday boy to wake up with a smile on his face. (platonic Bakusquad tickle fic)

potential warnings: swearing, tickling

words: 2.1 k

a/n: how could i not write a lee blasty boy fic for his birthday ?? i absolutely  l o v e  the bakusquad they are literally so wholesome :,) anyways i hope you guys enjoy!

--

“It’s physically impossible to wake Bakugou up in the middle of the night and survive,” Kaminari tried reasoning with his friends. It was only a few minutes past midnight on April 20th, meaning that it was officially Bakugou’s birthday. The Bakusquad was currently gathered inside of Kirishima’s dorm discussing how they should go about celebrating the special occasion. Specifically, trying to figure out a way to wake up the birthday boy in the next dorm over that didn’t end with them getting sent to their graves.

“But we can’t just do nothing! The Dekusquad already threw a little midnight party on Tsu’s birthday,” Kirishima argued.

Sero gave a dejected sigh, “Yeah, you’re right. We can’t let them one-up us like that. I just wish there was a way to avoid him getting pissed at us for waking him. It honestly might ruin the whole birthday mood.”

Mina, who had chosen to stay silent and patiently listen to the hopeless discussion, decided that this moment was the perfect time to pull out and reveal her wild card to the rest of the group. With a small smirk and excited gleam in her eyes, she said, “Ahem, I may have some super exclusive, top-secret info that could allow us to wake up Blasty for his birthday and live to see the light of day.”

All heads immediately turned towards Mina, their gazes both intrigued and dangerously curious. Kirishima eagerly encouraged, “... go on..!”

Mina pulled out her phone and motioned for the boys to come closer. Without hesitation, they all crowded around the small device before Mina started playing a video.

The visual was extremely dark, but they could still make out the vague silhouettes of two boys. They seemed to be struggling against one another, the taller one fighting to get away from the shorter one’s strong hold around his sides. The audio was very faint, so the group had to strain their ears to hear what was happening.

“If we w-weren’t in the dorms right now I would not he-hesitate to blast your ass into nehext week,” a gruff voice threatened quietly.

Another voice gasped, and then spoke teasingly, “Did the Kacchan just giggle?” The shorter boy’s hands then traveled further up the taller one’s torso, going up to his ribs, and not even two seconds later, not-so-quiet laughter could be heard echoing throughout the dark room.

The camera recording suddenly turned towards the ground and started shaking around, showing Mina’s blurry, socked feet quickly pattering away, before the video abruptly ended.

The Bakusquad slowly brought their heads back up to face one another, the boys all sharing the same dumbfounded, gaping expression and Mina looking smug as hell.

Kaminari was the first to speak up, barely able to contain his newfound excitement. “No way. No. Freaking. Way.”

A mischievous smile formed on Sero’s face as he said, “This is just too good to be true.”

“I know right!!” Mina exclaimed, obviously very proud of capturing the personal and adorable Bakugou moment. “Who would’ve guessed that our resident boom boy is ticklish?!”

“Sooo.. we’re all thinking the same thing right?” Kirishima asked, looking over at each of his friends expectantly.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” Sero said, while Mina and Kaminari nodded in agreement.

“”So what are we waiting for?!” Kaminari declared while standing to his feet. “Let’s go give the birthday boy the wake-up call of a lifetime!”

After the rest of the Bakusquad got to their feet, they all excitedly rushed out of Kirishima’s dorm and into the hallway. Once outside of Bakugou’s dorm, Kirishima pulled out the spare key the blonde had given him that was supposed to be used strictly for emergencies, but he honestly thought that their mission could be considered a birthday crisis of some sort.

Kirishima unlocked the door and quietly pushed it open, just enough so that he could briefly peek inside to make sure that Bakugou was asleep. He then pushed the door wide open, allowing him and the others to sneak inside the pitch black room. They made sure to close the door behind them and leave the lights off, but the group could still see each other’s shining, playful grins.

The Bakusquad crept over to Bakugou’s bed and saw him sleeping peacefully and softly snoring. Perfect. Kirishima and Sero crouched down onto the ground near the foot of the bed and gently pushed the blanket out of the way to reveal Bakugou’s bare feet. Meanwhile, Kaminari and Mina quietly climbed onto the bed and settled themselves on either side of the sleeping boy.

From the floor, Kirishima motioned for them to start putting their plan into action. After a quick nod, Mina slipped one of her hands underneath Bakugou’s tank top and started lightly tracing her fingertips along his bare stomach. Not long after, his face scrunched up and his body slightly curled inwardly on itself, trying to escape the soft sensations.

Deciding to step it up a notch, Mina ran her fingers over his side, not too hard as to immediately wake him up, but just enough to get him sleepily squirming. Bakugou lazily brought an arm down across his torso, his unconscious mind telling him that it was just a bug.

Desperately wanting to get in on the action, Kaminari slithered his own hand underneath Bakugou’s top and slowly dragged his slightly wiggling fingers from the birthday boy’s stomach up to his ribs.

Bakugou twitched awake, sleepily whining a small, “Son of a-” before he opened an eye to see what had woken him up while Kaminari and Mina quickly retracted their hands. He had definitely not been expecting to see people sitting next to him on the bed in his dorm, causing his eyes to widen and his body to jolt out of shock. Once his sleep-filled mind had actually caught up to what he was seeing, Bakugou was able to recognize and identify the two smiling faces as Mina and Kaminari. He let out a small sigh of relief before relaxing his body and closing his eyes again, mumbling, “Pinky? Dunce? Th’ hell you two idiots doin’ in my bed ‘n the middle of th’ goddamn night?”

“Actually, there are four idiots. Kiri and I are here too!” Sero pointed out with a suspicious amount of energy and excitement, but Bakugou was so tired that he honestly couldn’t care less.

In fact, the blonde had already started falling back into the depths of sleep, only letting out a small, “Mhmm.. get out losers,” in response.

Kirishima dragged a singular finger down the length of one of Bakugou’s feet. “C’mon Bakubro, you gotta wake up!”

Bakugou’s breath hitched before he immediately pulled the attacked foot back underneath the protection of the blanket. “Don’t do tha’ shit. I- Jus’ let me sleep, guys.”

Kaminari butted in, bravely placing a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder to gently shake him awake, “But we need you awake! Do you even know what day it is?”

Bakugou shrugged Kaminari off and completely ignored his question, instead tiredly mumbling, “Make sure to lock th’ door on your way out.” A few moments of silence passed, and the birthday boy was on the cusp of falling back into a deep sleep, when he suddenly felt soft fluttering on both of his feet and down his sides. Fingers were lightly grazing over the balls of his feet, dipping into the arches, and circling the heel before going back up and starting all over again. Small squeezes were given spontaneously along the length of both sides of his torso, traveling from his waistline all the way to his lower ribs. 

He tried to pull away from the gentle touches, but found that all four of his limbs were being pinned to the bed. Shit. He was so screwed. Bakugou tightly squeezed his eyes and tried to keep his mouth clamped shut, but he couldn’t prevent the tired smile and sleepy giggles from inevitably escaping. Normally, he would be fighting like hell to keep his laughter under control, but he was freaking exhausted dammit! “Whahat the- shihihit! What do you dahahamn extras think you’re doHOHOING?!” Bakugou’s laughter unconsciously became more desperate and louder when Kaminari suddenly wiggled his fingers higher up on his ribcage.

Noticing the increased reaction, Mina started focusing her tickling on his higher ribs as well. “We’re tickling you! I thought that was pretty obvious.”

Bakugou tried to thrash his way out of his captors’ grasps, but he was heavily outnumbered and disadvantaged. Still, there was no harm in fruitlessly trying. “Leheheheave me alohohohone! I’m nahahahat even tihihihickli-AHAHahaha!”

“Hmm.. I don’t know, dude.” Sero playfully teased. He pulled back Bakugou’s toes with one hand, using the other to gently flutter his fingers on the sensitive space in between, rewarding him with more thrashing and a shriek that dissolved into uncontrollable laughter. “Seems like you’re pretty ticklish to me.”

“NOHOHOHO I’M NAHAHAHAHAT!! WHIHIHIHI-WHY ARE YOU ASSHOHOHOLES EVEN DOHOHOING THIHIHIHIHIS?? HAHAHAVE A DEAHAHATH WIHIHISH OR SOHOMETHIHING?!” Bakugou attempted to threaten his friends, but his bright smile, joy-filled laughs, and adorable blush covering his face counteracted the murderous words.

Kirishima was dragging his index finger along the padding of Bakugou’s toes, occasionally dipping down in between them and giving a little wiggle, causing the blonde to give out a little squeal each time. “Because it’s your birthday!”

“Yeah, we have to wake you up so that we can celebrate together!” Kaminari exclaimed. He moved both of his hands to grab at either side of Bakugou’s hips and repeatedly squeezed. With his head thrown back from the force of his hysterics, Bakugou bucked his waist left and right, trying to dislodge Kaminari’s fingers.

“YOHOHOHOU IDIOHOHOTS ARE GONNAHAHAHAHA REGREHEHEHE- AAAAAAAHHAHAHAHA!!” Bakugou started pulling at his arms desperately, bouts of laughter pouring freely out of his mouth, as Mina trailed her hands upwards until they wiggled against his highest ribs, only an inch or two away from his armpits. “NAHAHAHAHAHA! NO MOHOHOHOHORE, NOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE!!”

With a villainous look in her eyes, Mina dug her fingers into the spot with more purpose and vigor, while Bakugou absolutely lost his mind to the sensations. “We’ll stop as soon as you promise that you’re gonna have tons of fun on your special day!”

Sero quickly half-jokingly added, “AND that you won’t kill us for waking you up.”

“OKAHAHAY OKAHAHAHAY!! WHAHATEHEVER JUHUHUST LEHET MEHE GOHOHOHO!!” 

“Not enough, Bakubro. You gotta say that you promise!” Kirishima teased.

“ALRIHIHIHIHIGHT IHIHIHI PROHOHOHOMISE!!”

Kaminari leaned down next to Bakugou’s ear, brought his hands up to his bare armpits and started creating feather-like flutters while whispering, “Say that you pinky promise, birthday boy~”

Bakugou’s blush only deepened as he fell into silent hysterics for a few moments, tears of mirth gathering in the corners of his eyes. Seeing that Bakugou was being tickled beyond the point of responding, Kaminari mercifully stopped his fluttering, but kept his hands rested on Bakugou’s armpits and slowly drummed his fingers against the soft skin. Once able to verbally form sentences again, Bakugou pleaded, “Pihihihinky prohohomise! Ihihihi pihihihihinky prohohohohomise!!”

The Bakusquad all immediately ceased their tickle attacks and released their hold on Bakugou’s limbs. The blonde quickly tucked his arms and legs back underneath the blanket and curled in on himself, trying to catch his breath and slow the stream of leftover giggles pouring out of his mouth. “Dohoho nohot e-hehe-ever doho thahat agahain asshoholes.”

“No promises on that one, Blasty,” Mina declared while Sero and Kirishima got up from the floor and joined the others on top of the already-crowded bed.

“Oh yeah, we’re totally doing that again!” Kirishima excitedly commented. “We’ve seriously gotta make wake-up tickles a birthday tradition in the squad.”

Bakugou groaned fondly at their silliness, a soft smile still present on his lips. The others all shared a look with one another before exclaiming, “Happy birthday, Bakugou!!”

When the birthday boy looked up, he saw his friends all wearing the same stupidly huge smile on their faces and doing dramatic, and surprisingly synchronized, jazz hands that they must’ve practiced on together for hours. He let out a few chuckles, “Yeah yeah, whatever losers. So what are we gonna do for the next five hours before class starts?”

“Wanna go raid the kitchen for snacks and play Mario Kart?” Sero suggested.

“Obviously, just don’t throw a tantrum when I completely dominate all of your asses!” Bakugou quickly challenged.

“Tough words for someone who’s deathly ticklish…” Kaminari teased with a knowing smirk.

Bakugou buried his head into one of his pillows to hide the oncoming blush and nervous smile quickly spreading across his face. “... shut up..”

--

a/n: ahaha not me posting in the middle of class :D but i really hope that you all enjoyed reading this and thank you for taking the time to do so!! I’ll be posting my fandom list tomorrow because i love procrastinating on it lol have a great life guys!!

[sicparvismorrigan]

Big Fun

Sam helps you feel better after you lose your temper.

Uncharted/Sam Drake/Post-U4

Viewpoint: 1st person gender-neutral reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: ~2.6k [complete]

Okay, outing myself a little here in the hopes that it’ll be a comfort to at least one other person. This happens…more often than I would like. I’m working on it.

This came about because of a discussion with @writingawaymylife thanks Aerin!

Read on Ao3

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, are you shitting me!”

You finally lose what little patience you had left and punch the wall. Underneath the cheap wallpaper it’s solid concrete and you instantly regret your feral outburst. There’s a millisecond of nothing before the pain comes rushing in, and then you’re bent double, clutching the wrist of your injured hand with the other and groaning.

You try and flex your fingers to check if they’re broken, but you can’t really tell. It’s too late. Your hand is numb within the minute. Shit, that’s really going to hurt in the morning.

You’re clumsy anyway, it’s the way it’s always been and the way it always will be. You know what you need to do, how you need to move, but your body won’t respond how you want it to. You’re always dropping plates and glasses, smashing them to bits. Usually when you’re already running late, and then you have to waste more time by scurrying around looking for a dustpan to get rid of the evidence.

You’re forever bumping into things, stubbing your toes and taking layers of skin off your shoulders and shins when you walk straight into doorframes. When you try and pour things you spill them more often than not. Yet more mess to clean up, yet more time wasted.

Your fingers just won’t work sometimes, often so badly it takes you multiple attempts to tie your shoes. And when it’s cold you’re practically useless. You just give up and tuck the laces into the shoes, feeling them rub through your socks, promising yourself to fix them once you’re back in the warm, everything will work out as long as you don’t trip over your own feet before you get there.

It’s the most frustrating thing in the world. Normally you can shrug it off, you’re used to it by now. But things had been going wrong all day, even without your clumsiness, and matters just came to a head.

You remember exactly what caused you to erupt into expletives and punch the wall. It had already been a frustrating day, work was a pain in the ass, as usual. All of the most awkward customers in the world had decided to descend upon you right before your break. By the time you got home you were in a pretty foul mood. Too wound up to relax, you decided to take a load of laundry downstairs to put in the washer.

You attempted to, anyway. After trying and failing 3 times to pick up the same damn sock from the floor of your room that your fingers just would not grasp, you’d given up and kicked it away under the bed in anger. Oh sure, couldn’t pick it up but you managed to land a furious kick the first time around.

Though you were trying your best to manoeuvre around the doorframe with the pile of clothes you still bumped off it with your shoulder, muttering ouch as the latch scraped your arm. Then you overcompensated by moving too much in the other direction and stubbed your toe on the corner of the door. Instant pain that made you see red.

The pile of clothes in your arms were promptly thrown on the floor in a fit of rage. That was when you punched the wall. And now you’re a sorry state, fingers throbbing and face red, trying not to scream.

Oh shit, you hear Sam moving around in his room down the hall. There’s no way he didn’t hear you. Well, this is embarrassing. There isn’t time to pick everything up and hightail it down the stairs before he catches you, not with your mangled claw out of action.

You hear his door creak open. You slowly turn around and stare guiltily at your roommate as he pokes his head around the doorframe.

“I heard…” He takes in the sight of the pile of laundry scattered on the floor and you holding up your tingling hand, still hopping from foot to foot. “Jeez, again?”

***

Sam is your friend Elena’s brother-in-law, or something like that. You aren’t clear on how exactly they’re related, but you knew her from college, long before she got married. She heard you were looking for a new roommate a few months back, and she got in touch, telling you she knew just the person.

You baulked initially when you got a phone call from her after sparse contact over the last few years. You were actually enjoying living by yourself again, though money was a bit tighter. Your last roommate was pleasant enough at first, however they soon turned out to be a nightmare, it was a relief to get rid of them. But you liked Elena a lot, and you did owe her one or two favours. For some reason she thought you and Sam would hit it off.

And much to your surprise, you did. You were a bit nervous of him to begin with, but Sam turned out to be so laid back he was almost horizontal. The perfect foil to your occasionally manic energy. Living with him was easy, there weren’t any awkward silences. If you were in the same room but didn’t feel like talking, he was fine with it.

Your apartment was pretty basic but he seemed happy there with you. He even made you dinner sometimes when you’d had a tough day and you’d just come in and flop face down on the sofa. Sam would wordlessly stand up and then half an hour later come back through to get you with the same phrase every time. “You gonna eat something, or what?”

Elena had reassured you he probably wouldn’t even be there a lot of the time. He just needed somewhere to touch base every few weeks, she turned out to be correct.

You didn’t even really know what Sam did. He didn’t appear to have a job, he was almost always home during the day and seemed to spend a lot of time on your Playstation (“our Playstation” according to Sam). But he came up with his half of the rent every month and then disappeared again for a few weeks. You didn’t ask, not your business. You’d started to find the house too quiet and empty when he wasn’t there and you were always waiting to hear the keys in the lock and his joking “Honey, I’m home!” whenever he came back.

After moving in it didn’t take him long to pick up on your quirks, or notice that you were more accident-prone than the average person. It had led to the only argument you’d ever had with him.

One time while making dinner you’d dropped a plate and cursed yourself as it cracked in half on the tiled floor. You’d stared daggers at him, daring him to say a word about it. You totally weren’t expecting what he did next.

He’d just looked at you dead in the eyes as he pushed another plate off the counter. Exactly like a cat would.

You blew up at him. “What in the hell did you do that for? Now there’s twice as many sharp bits to clear up!”

“It’s just a plate.” He had shrugged, leaning back on the counter.

“What’s your damn point?”

“That it really doesn’t matter, and that I don’t care that we’ve had to replace pretty much everything in this kitchen since I moved in.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Not everything. You owe me a plate now.”

“You know, maybe we should invest in plastic ones.”

“We are adults Sam! And it’s not good for the environment.”

“And the current… situation is not good for your bank account!”

“Just because you’re used to plastic cutlery.” Kind of a cheap shot, but you’re still mad. You’d gathered he’d done jail time, but you didn’t dare ask what for, or how long. You caught him saying weird things sometimes and eventually realised it was because his concept of time was a little warped. He kept referring to the 90’s like it was only last week, instead of nearly 20 years ago.

Sam just laughed at your plastic cutlery comment, not at all offended. “Yeah, and I like living here so much I’m willing to do that if it means you’ll stop beating yourself up.”

“I’ll think about it.” You grumbled. But you got some plastic cups and plates on your way home from work the next day. Sam was right, it was a lot better, though it made you feel like a kid again.

As you’d gotten more comfortable with Sam you’d given up trying to hide the fact you were a walking health hazard and didn’t stifle your curses anymore.

At first he seemed amused by your clumsiness, he even laughed the first few times you did something stupid. But he quickly realised how upsetting your lack of control over your own limbs was for you, because it happened so damn often. He stopped making fun as soon as he noticed you couldn’t laugh it off with him. It wasn’t a joke to you. From then on he’d been surprisingly nice, he always attempted to make you feel better when it got too much.

***

Even so, right now as you were having a stand-off with him in the hallway, you gritted your teeth and tried to keep your voice even. Stay calm, he’s just concerned. “Yes, again.”

“What did it ever do to you? Y’know, standing there, being all wall-like…stopping our house from collapsing?”

“I lost my temper again. Punched the damn thing.”

He shook his head. “I’ve told you, you’ve got to look after those hands.”

“But they’re so fuc-“ You stop and sigh when he raises an eyebrow. Calm. “Flipping useless. I’m useless.”

“Not true.” Sam steps out of his room and walks in your direction. On the way he kicks a rogue sock back onto the main pile of mess on the floor. “Take that, you scoundrel.”

“I just wish my brain worked normally.”

“Your brain is fine. Your music taste on the other hand.” Sam moved his hand up and down in an ‘ehhhhhh’ motion and shook his head. “No no.”

He’s kidding, of course he is. Damn his sense of humour. But you don’t feel like smiling just yet. It still fucking hurts. “I think I broke something this time.” You really thumped the wall. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve actually done damage.

“You want me to check?”

“Please.”

You hold out your hand for him and he carefully wiggles and stretches your fingers one by one, watching your face for any reaction. You wince once he gets to your thumb. Oh, that one hurts the worst.

“No, thumb on the inside? For real?” Sam looked at you in disbelief.

“Apparently so.”

“That’ll learn you. That’s like rule number one of punching anything.”

You sigh. “Anything broken?”

“No, we’re all good. But keep your thumb on the outside next time or you really will break it.”

“Surprisingly, I wasn’t really focusing on technique that much. Oh hey, you should check this one again.” You hold your middle finger aloft.

“Very funny.” But he smirks at you, knowing he’s helping you feel better.

“Come on, you do that one to me all the time.”

“Learning from the best, what can I say? Oh, shit…” Sam’s staring past you.

“What, what’s wrong?” You glance back in the direction he’s looking.

Sam moves to the wall, right where you just punched and looks at you in faux-panic. “I need a medic!”

“Really?” You watch in amazement as he starts to do something to the wall which looks an awful lot like the chest compressions from CPR. Wow, he’s very committed to this bit.

“We’re losing them!”

“Sam, there’s barely a scuff on the wallpaper. I definitely came off worse.”

“I need a crash cart stat!” He yells at nobody in particular.

“Jesus Christ. You’ve been watching too many daytime medical dramas.” You just shake your head, but the corners of your mouth are threatening to twitch upwards.

“Have not…Beeeeeeeeeep! Aw, we lost them. RIP.” He finally steps away from the wall and shrugs. “I tried.”

“You’re such a goofball.” At least you’re smiling now.

“Hey, it worked didn’t it? Frown upside down.” He squeezes your shoulder. “You really did a number on that wall though, huh? I heard it all the way down there. Hell, I felt it. Made the stuff on the shelves rattle.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a bad day. A really bad day. People are assholes.” You glance down at the pile of laundry still littering the floor. “I should pick this up.”

“Do you have to right now?”

“Well, yeah…I was on the way downstairs to wash it.”

“I’m not sure the structural integrity of our house could take it if you had another…incident on the way to the washer. That wall’s concrete but you’re gonna end up going clean through one of the others. Then you’ll lose our security deposit.”

“My security deposit.”

“Right, right, right. That doesn’t mean you can punch holes wherever you like.”

“You could fix it though if I did?”

“Yeah, I guess. Y’know, I’ve never really asked you about it before, but talk me through it, what goes on in your head right before you flip out?”

“I don’t know, I just…see red and it happens before I can stop it.”

“Uh-huh.” He’s nodding. Bizarrely, he doesn’t look too freaked out to you admitting you pretty much go into berserker mode over minor inconveniences. “I know you can’t do anything about having 2 left feet, but you can do something about letting it get to you.”

“What, count to 10 or something?” You ask, mocking. Like you haven’t heard that one before.

“Yeah, seriously.” You get the impression he’s talking from experience. “It works, don’t question it.”

Screw it, he’s being really nice. At least he understands it’s not because you’re an idiot, it’s because your brain isn’t wired like most peoples. And he was right about the plastic plates. “Alright. I’ll try.”

“And you come tell me if this thing pisses you off again, I’ll deal with it.” Sam shakes his fist at the wall. He really is an idiot sometimes. But he does make you laugh. He’s your idiot.

“Gotcha.” You give him a thumbs-up with both hands, wincing again, the movement hurts.

He gives you a sly look. “How about you flex those fingers, and we play a game awhile. Crash Bandicoot maybe?”

“Again? I’ve got loads to do….” You fidget anxiously. you know what he’s up to though. Trying to get you to chill out.

“Just for a little bit. Scared I’ll beat ya?”

“Pffft, not even close, but I’m at a disadvantage this time.” There’s still no way he can win.

“I resent that, I’m getting pretty good.”

“You just mash the buttons.” It’s a fact and he knows it.

“C’mon, c’mon. I gotta at least beat your high score before I have to leave again.”

“Okay, okay, fine. I’m in. Let’s go!” You nod in the direction of the stairs.

“Loser deals with that later on.” He points at the abandoned pile of laundry on the floor.

“Deal, don’t go easy on me.” You step around it and follow him to the sitting room. Even with a crippled hand you’re pretty sure you can thrash him. “Elena and I used to play this in college, wonder if she still has it…”

***

Thank you for reading!

Yeah…I am not just clumsy, I am more like ‘danger to myself and others’ levels of uncoordinated. But I can’t be the only one! Don’t worry, Sam’s got your back ;) Also the title is the song Big Fun from Heathers the Musical because once again it has invaded my life. The whole soundtrack has been on a loop for days now. I LOVE IT. Punch the wall and start a fight!

- Sam Drake and Elena Fisher belong to Naughty Dog/the Uncharted creative team and I (sadly) take no ownership of them.

- This work is not for profit though it belongs to me and I must be credited when copying or reposting elsewhere

- As mentioned before reader is intended to be gender-neutral so please interpret this fic however you like. This is my first x Reader fic published and first g/n reader viewpoint I’ve attempted so I hope I did okay. I myself identify as mostly female so that’s what I normally write because it’s easier for me to connect with. But this was fun.

[wisteriashouse]

three pointer.

pairing: rengoku kyoujurou x reader

genre: fluff, romance, college!au

word count: 2453

remarks: for @kyojoroo​ who mentioned something about a college!au for kyojuro!! this is a bit of an ugly draft, but i just wanted to post it anyway (because i spent too much time on it) i hope you enjoy it!

“Great game!” 

“Yeah, you were a beast on the court, captain!”

“That last shot was insane! We wouldn’t have won without you!”

“Thanks, everyone,” Kyoujurou laughs as he steps into the communal showers, peeling off his basketball jersey as he goes. After a whole after non of so called friendly matches against a rival college, Kyoujurou can’t wait to get into the showers to wash all the sweat and grime that has accumulated off his body. “We all did great today, not just me. It’s our victory.”

“Oh, stop it with the humility, Rengoku, it’s embarrassing to watch,” someone shoves his shoulder playfully from the back - Kyoujurou turns around to see Tengen grinning at him as he steps into the shower next to his, tossing his own jersey to the side. “I’ll eat my gym socks if the headhunters aren’t brawling over you at this year’s nationals. They’ll be like a bunch of piranhas trying to get a piece of that ass.”

Kyoujurou shakes his head, but there’s a pleased smile curling at the corners of his lips. “Let’s just focus on making it to the finals firsts,” he says with a quick laugh, stripping off his shorts and stepping into the shower. Cold water runs down his back, splashes over his face. He glances at the clock hanging on the wall.

Five minutes to eight.

He reaches for the soap just as one of his teammates starts asking around where the rest want to head to for dinner. There’s a smattering of replies from the team, consisting of answers ranging from Wendy’s to the sushi place down the street, punctuated by the sound of running water. Kyoujurou, however, does not answer, focusing his attention on rinsing his hair clean of any soap suds before he’s reaching for his towel to dry himself off. 

Tengen, who’s in the shower next to him, notices how quickly he’s moving.

“What’s with the rush?” Tengen calls as Kyoujurou roughly dries his hair. “Are you that eager to head to dinner? Or,” his smile turns sly, “is it because of the cute waitress there who has the hots for you?”

“What? Don’t be stupid,” Kyoujurou reaches for his shirt, tugging it over his head and casting another glance at the clock. Eight o’ clock now. Damn, he’s late. “Besides, I’m not having dinner with you guys today. I have something else on.”

Tengen raises his eyebrows so fast Kyoujurou thinks that they might just fly off his forehead. “You have something else on?” He repeats, so loudly he might as well be trying to broadcast it to Mars. And to nobody’s surprise, least of all Kyoujurou’s, everyone in the showers is immediately aware of Kyoujurou’s dinner plans.

“Ehh? Captain, you’re not coming with us for dinner?”

“Yeah, we were gonna treat you and have some drinks after!”

“No, no, everyone, let him go,” Tengen’s eyes glint, and instantly Kyoujurou knows that his thoughts are ballooning far beyond the reaches of reality. “He’s definitely got himself a date, fucking finally-” Kyoujurou slaps a hand over Tengen’s mouth to shut him up before another word can leave him. The man might be one of his best friends, but god can he be annoying sometimes.

“I am going to dinner with a friend.” Kyoujurou emphasizes on the word ‘friend’. Tengen waggles his eyebrows very suggestively at him.

“A very… flamboyant type of friend?” He suggests, and Kyoujurou throws his towel at him. This, unfortunately, only serves to make Tengen all the more insufferable than he already is, the man dissolving into a bout of uncontrollable laughter. Kyoujurou groans.

“Stop it.” Sending one last look at the clock, he gathers up his things and shoves them into his backpack before pulling on his varsity jacket as fast as he can. “I’m meeting a very friend sort of friend for dinner, so don’t get any funny ideas. And stop it with the moaning noises,” he directs his last comment at Tengen, who’s still laughing at him. “I’ll see you guys for training tomorrow!”

As expected, a few shout goodbye in return while the rest hoot and holler for him to introduce them to his ‘special friend’ soon. With a quiet laugh and a shake of the head, Kyoujurou steps out of the sports hall, grateful for the cool evening air against his warm cheeks. Really, why do they feel the need to tease him like that?

He’s just about to take off at a light jog when his phone vibrates in the front pocket of his jeans.

Wincing around a slight smile, he hits ‘answer’ and raises the phone to his ear without a glance at the caller ID, the soles of the shoes slapping lightly against the pavement as he picks up a steady pace.

“Hey.” Kyojuro says. He hopes his voice doesn’t sound too breathless.

“You’re late.”

“We went into overtime and the match ended late.” The lights are red when he reaches the crossroads, so he slows his pace and takes a moment to catch his breath. A car honks loudly opposite him. “Sorry about that.”

“Hmm.” A noncommittal noise, and then a pause. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Dinner?” He repeats. The lights turn green, and he begins to jog once more. “Uhh… a double cheeseburger set and a coke zero.” It’s difficult to run and talk at the same time, more so over the phone with his backpack jostling with every step he takes. 

“Tempura side?”

A short bark of laughter leaves him. “You know me too well.” There’s a smile stubbornly clinging to his lips. He doesn’t want to get rid of it.

“You’re about as easy to read as a piece of paper.” A snort, then quieter, “I’ll be waiting for you at the diner.” Before Kyoujurou has the chance to say his own goodbye, the call hangs up on him. He holds the phone up, looks at it for a moment in amusement and laughs, before shoving his phone back into his pocket and quickening his pace, a new spring in his step.

You’re not a person who likes to be kept waiting.

>>> 

The distance to the diner isn’t very far from the sports hall, so Kyoujurou takes only about ten minutes, at a light jog, to make it there. Slightly out of breath from the exertion, he takes a moment to catch his breath and collect himself, before he pushes open the door to the diner, eyes immediately searching the inside for-

You’re seated at one of the booths, dressed in a comfy oversized hoodie and idly scrolling through your phone as you wait for him, two trays of untouched food on the table in front of you. At the sight of you, his mood lifts instantly - you don’t seem to have noticed him yet, so he waits for a moment before he makes his way over to you, sliding into the seat opposite.

You look up from your phone, and Kyoujurou beams, shucking his bag to the side.

“Hey.”

You raise an eyebrow at his chipper attitude, glancing at the screen of your phone as you set it to the side. “You are,” your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek, “twenty minutes late.”

Kyojuro puts his palms flat on the table and bows his head sincerely. “I am very sorry,” he says, suitably chastened. “Please forgive me.” You look at him for a moment, then open your mouth to speak.

“Did you win?”

At that, the smile that Kyoujurou has been trying so hard to keep down inevitably breaks through. “Mmhmm,” he says, and he swears he catches a ghost of a smile touching your lips as well.

“Then I’ll let you off this time.” You push his tray towards him, condensation gathering on the outside of his drink. You’ve been waiting twenty minutes for him, after all. 

“You could have started eating first, you know?” Kyoujurou says, slightly worried as he begins unwrapping his burger. “It’s not healthy to eat too late, and I know you skipped lunch for your project today.”

You shrug off his concern, lazily stealing a fry from his tray before he can stop you (not that he would, even if he could). “Wanted to eat together.” Is all you say in form of an answer, before popping it into your mouth.

Kyoujurou blinks at you, then reaches over to put a few more fries on your tray. He really needs to work on hiding his smile.

“Have some more, then.”

The two of you eat in comfortable silence amidst the chatter and noise ongoing behind you. Occasionally, Kyoujurou pauses between bites to ask you about your day, how your tests went. Conversation swells and ebbs easily between the two of you, never awkward, and the silence is always comfortable.

He finishes his meal first, demolishing the entire tray of food in a few big bites that would make Godzilla proud. Calling for an ice cream (because he’s still hungry), Kyoujurou settles his head on his hands, content to watch you eat, but to his surprise, you’re the one who speaks up first with an unexpected question.

“So, nationals.” You say, slowly. “When are they?”

Kyoujurou pauses, then blinks up at you, unsure if he’s mistaken the word ‘finals’ for ‘nationals’. You’ve never showed an interest in any of his basketball matches before, due to your dislike of large crowds and excessive screaming - hence, almost every basketball game ever. As far as he remembers, you’ve never even been to a game since… well, ever. Still, you asked, so Kyoujurou will answer. 

“They start next month.” Kyoujurou sits up, back a little more straight. “Why?”

Ignoring his question, you simply continue. “It’s a big deal for you, isn’t it?” You lift your burger and take a bite out of it. “Your future, and all that.”

Kyoujurou exhales a bit before he smiles again. “Yeah, it’s huge. All the headhunters from the professional teams will be watching. I can’t afford to show them anything but my best if I’m serious about becoming a professional athlete in the future.”

You make a face. “That sounds… awful, to be honest.” Kyoujurou laughs at that. Instead of taking another bite of your burger, you take a breath, set it to the side and look at Kyoujurou seriously. Confused by the sudden change in mood, Kyoujurou looks back at you, back straightening subconsciously and leaning forward more so that he can hear you better. “Since that’s the case, do you…” you pause for a second, seemingly hesitant, which really piques Kyoujurou’s interest. “Do you want me to-”

Kyoujurou never does find out what it is that you’re suggesting, because in the next second you’re interrupted by an ice cream being set down on the table between you. You, as usual, fall silent in the presence of an unexpected stranger, and Kyoujurou wants to groan. Talk about bad timing. It had seemed serious.

“Oh, it’s you again, captain.” Kyoujurou looks up to see the waitress smiling at him - she’s the one who usually serves his team when they stop by here for team dinners. He returns her smile politely. “It’s surprising to see you here with someone other than your team.”

“I had plans with a friend,” Kyoujurou gestures at you, not noticing the slight frown that tugs at your mouth. The waitress’ mouth forms a slight ‘o’ of realisation at the word ‘friend’, fidgeting with the serving tray in her hands before she speaks again.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your time with your friend here,” she says, suddenly, and her nervous tone gives Kyoujurou pause. Was Tengen right somehow? Did she really have a crush on him? “But you’re a sweet person and I think you’re really cute, so… if it’s alright… may I have your number to get to know you better?”

Kyoujurou blinks up at her, caught off guard by the sudden question - yet he finds his eyes instinctively straying to you. Your expression is neutral, both hands wrapped around his sundae as you begin digging into it, seemingly paying no attention at all to his business with the waitress.

Pressing his lips together, Kyoujurou turns back to the waitress, giving her a smile. “Thank you for your affection, I’m deeply honoured. However,” he pauses, making sure that his voice is carefully gentle before he continues, “I’m afraid that I already have someone else I am interested in. My deepest apologies.”

“Oh.” Her voice comes out tiny. Her eyes dart towards you, just for a moment, but once again you don’t seem to notice, attention still completely riveted on his ice cream. “No, no, it was my fault. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 

“Not at all!” Kyoujurou is quick to reassure her. “I think you’re a lovely woman, surely soon you will meet a partner worthy of you who returns your feelings.”

The waitress squeaks out a ‘thank you’ before she escapes into the kitchen, serving tray clutched to her chest. With that over, Kyoujurou turns back to you with an apology on his lips, only to be surprised to see that you’re staring at the kitchen door the waitress has just disappeared through.

“That happens often,” you comment lightly, taking another bite of his sundae. “You must be used to rejecting them by now. Did you come up with that excuse on your own?”

I’m afraid I already have someone else I am interested in.

Kyoujurou’s mouth opens, lips parting slightly and an answer hanging from the tip of his tongue, but before the words can escape him he closes his mouth firmly. He looks at you, watching as you swirl a fry in his ice cream before popping it into your mouth, before you look up at him expectantly. It is not in his nature to lie, so…

“You’ve finished all my ice cream,” he says, tone lighthearted. “I wanted dessert, you know.”

You glance at him, eyes narrowing slightly, but you don’t press the issue, looking down at his ice cream again. “I’ll buy you another one if you want.” You shrug. “Food always tastes better when stolen from someone else.”

Kyoujurou has to shake off a smile before he rises to his feet, hiking his bag over his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” Although the stroll is done so in comfortable silence, the topic of the waitress does not resurface, and Kyoujurou can’t help but feel just a hint disappointed. When you bid him goodbye at the door, your expression is just as unreadable as ever, and Kyoujurou does not know what to make of it.

He never manages to find out what it was that you wanted to talk about, either.

[starpunchsoup]

The Void Doesn't Feel So Empty

Summary: Blaine is having a hard time forgiving himself for what happened between him and Kurt. Sam, being the bestest friend in the whole wide world, swoops in to help.

(AO3 link!)

Blaine stared at his phone for ten full minutes before he finally picked it up. It took him another five before he actually hit the ‘dial’ button.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Sam greeted, picking up Blaine’s call immediately.

“Oh, nothing much. W-What are you up to?” Blaine had no idea why he was so nervous, Sam had become his best friend over the last couple of weeks, but Blaine can feel his hands start to shake.

“Eh, I’m just watching some YouTube videos. The house is empty because everyone is visiting Carole’s sister in Toledo for the weekend, so I’m just watching a bunch of Elder Scrolls lore right now. What’s new with you? Or did I ask that already?” Blaine could almost picture Sam looking up at the ceiling as he tries to remember if he already asked what Blaine was up to, and he can’t help but smile.

“I’m kind of in the same boat, so I was wondering if you wanted to…I dunno, hang out or something. Unless Tamriel is really calling to you at the moment.”

“Nah, it’s cool. Do you want me to bring over some movies or something? Or we can always go bowling, I know Lima Lanes is open until midnight.” Sam suggested.

Blaine’s heart rises up to his throat. “Yeah, that sounds good! I do enjoy some bumper bowling…”

“I know dude. The one time you beat Santana, Tina and Finn, all you wanted to do was go bowling for weeks after. Do you want to just meet there or…?” Sam teased.

“I’ll just meet you there, if that’s cool. I’ll head out now!” Blaine said, immediately looking for a pair of socks.

“You’ll probably beat me there, so just get us all set up alright? See you in ten.”

______________

“Hey, I don’t want to bring the mood down, but um…can I ask you something?” Blaine asked, eating another french fry.

“Yes, we can play another round after you eat. I’m not doing much else tonight.” Sam agreed with a shrug, staring at Blaine’s plate.

“No, not about that. I mean, I’m glad you still wanna play, even after I just beat you. But my question is about Quinn, actually. You guys dated, right?” Blaine tried to broach the subject slowly, because he’s only heard bits and pieces of what happened, and he doesn’t want to upset Sam at all.

It only sort of works, because Sam visibly tensed before taking a deep breath in. “Yeah, we dated when I first came to Lima. What about her?”

“She…she cheated on you with Finn, yeah?” Blaine had a hard time making eye contact with his best friend, and he felt slightly nauseous at the influx of emotions (and shitty bowling alley potatoes) stirring in his belly.

“Yeah. Santana used Finn’s stupid kissing booth to give them both mono while it happened. It’s um. Not a chapter I look back on nicely.” Sam’s voice sounded tired more than angry, which is what gave Blaine the courage to look up and meet his eyes.

“Did you ever forgive her? Or Finn? Like…did that scar you for life or anything?” Blaine wrenched his hands together underneath the table, trying to keep his nerves in check.

“Okay, I know this isn’t actually about me and Quinn, but I’m going to entertain your question anyway.” Sam’s smile is small, but it was comforting enough to make Blaine feel a little less nervous. “Forgiving Quinn wasn’t that hard, actually. I mean, yeah, it still hurts like hell if I think about it too hard, but she’s a really good person and I know that. When I saw her at church the week my house got foreclosed on, I knew she was somebody I could trust. Somebody who would have my back. Plus I think, after Beth and all, it was good for her to be around the little guys. My siblings really liked having her around. Finn was a little harder to get over, but I knew it wasn’t personal against me or anything. He was just really trying to get over Rachel I think, but he ended up making everyone more upset in the process, himself included. And now we’re roommates and play video games a good portion of the day. It’s kind of weird, with him helping run the glee club and all right now, but whatever. Does that make you feel any better?”

Blaine smiled a little, looking down at his lap. “Yeah, a little. But like…are you okay? Like, even if you knew it wasn’t personal, did that make dating Mercedes hard?”

“Not really. I mean yeah, I’ll never forget it, but I knew it was a one-off thing. Well, I mean, I knew she cheated on Finn with Puck, but that was another weird thing. I don’t think she really meant to hurt anyone either time. If I got cheated on again, I’d be fucking pissed though. But I knew Mercedes wasn’t that kind of girl. I’m okay now, Blaine. Time fixes a lot, and honestly? Perspective fixes a lot too.” Blaine tries to reach for another fry, but Sam grabs his hand before he makes it to the plate. “He’ll forgive you. I promise. It may not go back to what it was before, but that can be a good thing. Someday, when you’re adults, like real actual adults, you can write it off as teenage hormones or something. Ku-” Sam cut himself off, unsure if Blaine could handle hearing his name. But he swallowed and nodded politely. “Blaine. Kurt will forgive you. I promise. He cares about you so much. What you guys have going on, that’s not something that will fade away overnight, and nothing he can just forget about. I’m gonna be honest and say I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want to date again, at least not for a while, but he’ll be back. I promise. If, for no other reason than Burt and Carole still ask about you a bunch. You’re a part of him, and he’s always going to be a part of you. You’re gonna be okay, man. I promise.” Sam’s smile was warm, and Blaine could feel every single word echo inside his head.

“Thank you, Sam. Really. You’re the best best friend a man could ever ask for, you know that?” Blaine moved his hand to give Sam’s a squeeze, before they both let go and Blaine could continue to eat his fries.

“Hell yeah I do. Now finish eating those half-cold oily monsters so I can beat you this time.”

[dreamilymagicalhideout]

Gojo Satoru

You

Masterlist

Word count: 1906

Summary: when Gojo is being playful as his usual self, but you're not in the mood.

So it's a personal experience, but I admit I exagerrate some parts, heheheh.

~

You get into your house, turn off the light and take off your shoes, your reached the wall on your right side, hold on it while you take off your socks. You quickly walk into your bedroom to take off all your clothes and headed into the bathroom. You took a shower and dried yourself, put into your pajama and preapare to cook something.

Thankfully, there were still something left in the fridge, you put all the ingredients on the table, take some rice from the rice vat and washed it, you are a little unfocused when you're about to lift it, it almost fell down. Lucky for you, it's not falling, you sighed, then lift it carefully before you put it in the rice cooker.

These past few months have been hard on you, being a fresh graduate who is looking for a job in the time like this where people were losing their job. You have applied for over two hundreds positions, but you still haven't got any job yet. Of course there were some interview and test, you've done that, but that's all. There isn't any of the company that called you back, all you ever received was their refusal emails.

Some of your friends were already got a job, which makes your insecurities rises even more. Well, there are some who are still trying like you though, but in your eyes somehow they seemed better. They just seems more capable in every aspect than you, more reliable, more energetic, cleverer, well anything.

Next month you have a family gathering, since your parents are already passed away, your evil aunts and uncles are going to roast you again.

Your fish is almost done, the soup is also ready. You looked at the clock, Gojo will be home soon, you started to make the table. Just as you thought, the front door finally open, a tall man with white hair come in. "I'm home" he said as he walk quickly, his footsteps could be heard from the kitchen.

"Welcome" you said as you still making the table. "It smells nice, what are you making?" He asked while walking closer to the stove.

"Fish, go take a shower, it'll be done in a minute"

"Aren't you going to hug me? Kiss me? Say that you miss me?" Gojo said while bow a little with his face close to you, his smug smile is right on his lips. "I do that after you take a bath"

"That's a promise" he said as he pointed at you and went to the bathroom. Your fish are ready, and you finished making the table, you put out the warm rice on the table and wait for Gojo.

"Thank you for the food" you both said in unison and started eating. You were not in the mood to talk, so both of you just eat in silence. You can feel Gojo's eyes on you, but you ignored him.

You both are done eating dinner, you wash all the dishes while Gojo is standing beside you leaning on the kitchen counter. You ignored him, suddenly he took off your hair tie, and your long hair is down. It is troublesome to wash the dishes while trying not to make your hair wet. You hiss in annoyance while looking at your boyfriend smirking next to you.

You quickly finished all the dishes and dried your hands, you notice that your some strands of your hair is wet too. You look around searching for particular something, you continously looking without asking Gojo. You're just not in the mood to talk to him. "Are you looking for something?" He finally asks with a smile on his face.

"Is it a napkin?" He said as his smile is getting bigger, he pointed his finger at the top of the shelf, there lying all the napkins you have. You jump with so much effort, hoping that you could reach it, but you're just too short. "You know, I can easily get that"

You ignored him as you pull on of the chair, and press it to the shelf, then climb on it. That's when Gojo take all the napkins to his hands. "What is wrong with you?"

"You haven't ask about my day yet"

"How was your day?" You ask him just so he stopped being annoying. You take the napkins from his hands and wipe your hands, then you use the other one to wipe the table "It is good actually, my students are all awesome, of course that comes naturally from my good teaching"

You just stay silent after that, not saying anything. He looks at you again, he is wondering what's wrong with you, you continue to ignore him while you're searching for something on the fridge. "Look, I could touch you" Gojo said as he poked your belly again and again, you tried to stop his fingers, but his infinity is on and you can't touch him. "But you can't touch me" he said as he was smiling mischiveously. "Go away"

"Do you realize that you just banish a Gojo Satoru?" He said as he played with your hair and twirl it on his fingers. You don't answer him, you are trying to search is there any fish left for tomorrow morning, you both have to eat breakfast, Gojo is teaching and you are still hopelessly looking for a job that maybe available. Even if it's not for you. Since Gojo activity is more valuable than you maybe the fish is for him, yeah you don't need to eat anyway. He is the one who brought all the ingredients in the fridge, you just ate his rations.

You close the fridge after take few vegetables to cut, you decided to cut it now so you can save some time tomorrow. "Y/n?" Gojo calls you, you look at him for a while, he just smiles at you. Then you continue cutting the vegetables again. You frowned a little when you notice that the carrot you hold can't be cut. You try hard, but somehow you just can't. Then you realize Gojo put his fingers while turning on the Infinity.

"Gojo!" If this is a normal day, you wouldn't get angry, but now you got a lot on your mind, you just exploded. You put all the vegetables back to the fridge and walk to you bedroom, your tears are already blurried your vision, you get into the bathroom and lock it.

You cried. You know you are exagerrating things, but you can't help it. You could hear him open the door and entered the bedroom. You wash your face, but the tears are still streaming down on your face. You look at your reflection in the mirror, your eyebags are palpable, your eyes are dull, your face is pale.

'Whatever' you thought and get out of the bathroom, the first thing you see is Gojo sits on the edge of the bed. You walked closer then he noticed you "hey" he called you, but you just climb into the bed and covered all your body with the duvet and turned your back against him.

He got into the duvet and circling his arms around your waist. "What's wrong?" You can feel your tears start to gather in your eyes. "I can hear you crying in the bathroom just now"

You couldn't answer him and crying instead, he hugs you closer, his big body is engulfing your petite one. You can feel him kissing your hair while his hand is around your shoulder, pulling you close as if there is still a gap between the both of you. Once you finally stopped crying he moved your body to face him.

He tried to look at your face, but you couldn't face him and buried your face on his neck. "Hmm? Why?" He asked you once more.

"I still don't have a job"

"There's nothing wrong with that" he tells you with a sincere tone, he really thinks that it is a big deal, he said it like he is really confused.

"Everything is wrong with-" you started crying again "that" he pat your shoulder gently, trying to call you down.

"My aunt is annoying"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Don't do anything, i'm serious Satoru"

"If you want me to do anything, just asked"

"Hmm" He opened the cloth on his eyes and his baby bright blue eyes is staring right at you. "Don't cry"

"Here, I lick away all your tears" he said that, and literally did that. He licked the tears on your cheek and you're laughing. "Satoru, stop it" you said between the laugh and try to push him away. However, he still continued to lick you, you are now laughing until you feel a tears in your eyes.

He didn't stop there, he moved into your neck and lick it "there are some in your neck too" he loves to see you laughing so he continued doing what he is doing, he hold both of your wrist so you did not push him away. "You are such a liar" you said between all the giggling with all the struggling, you tried to close the gap between your shoulder and chin so he couldn't get in, but it was useless.

"There it is" He finally stopped and see you who smiles brightly. "Don't think about it too much, just relax, your aunt is not anywhere near you, no one is blaming you for not having a job"

He removed the hair that sticks to your face, then put his large hand on your cheek, his thumb gently removing a damp spot beneath your eyes to make sure there were no tears left.

"Even I like you better without a job, so you can be available whenever I need you" you rolled your eyes. "Let's go somewhere tomorrow"

"I have an online test"

"Then let's go after that" you sighed "alright"

"You need to take a break for a while" He said then put his eye mask to you. "You'll sleep better with this"

"You're not allowed to be hard on yourself, the only thing that ia allowed to be hard is my-"

"Shut up Satoru!" You quickly stop him, "what? Why did you stop me?" He asked you with a glints of amusement in his eyes, his playful smile is there on his lips.

"Shut up, I don't want to hear" you said as you turned your back against him, even though you can't see him now, you still feel embarassed. You buried your face between the pillow and the duvet.

"You don't even know what I was going to say" he said with his hand pulling your waist closer to him. His chin is now on top of your head, he is hugging you like a kid hugging his stuff animal before sleeping.

"Whatever"

"I wanted to say you're not allowed to be hard on yourself, the only thing that is allowed to be hard is my student's training, but seems like your thought is more interesting than mine, come on what is it? Let's hear it" he propped his head with his hand while his other hand is holding into both of your hands, protecting it with his big one, sometimes tracing a light circle inside your hand.

"I want to sleep, don't talk to me"

*fin*

[kisskeiji]

7. Lottery.

Lost & Found.

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and smoking, like one mention of sex (i think) and atsumu being sentimental. 

  Winter was your favorite season. You would always stay in for the holidays and spend the winter break at home. Iwaizumi never understood why you enjoyed sleeping with nothing but your underwear  and a pair of fuzzy socks if you were going to sleep with three covers anyway, you loved the cold and everything that came with it. Your wardrobe was always full of sweaters and coats and your shared apartment was carefully decorated with things you collected over the years. 

Now they remained in the box where you left them the last christmas you spent with him, untouched, since he wasn’t one to celebrate especially now that he is spending the season by himself, refusing to go home with Hanamaki. He still missed you and he tried to do everything he could to get you out of his mind, he even worked on Christmas day but couldn’t stop thinking about you and how you would be wandering around the kitchen cooking dinner for your friends, but he ruined it. You weren’t with him and it was all his fault and he hated it. 

There was no one else to blame, but his pride and jealousy tried to blame you too, convincing himself it was your fault too for running away, for not facing him, for moving on before him. Ever since he called you that night and another guy answered the phone his chest tightened to the thought of you with another man. His friends tried to set him up with several women but he never caved in, he didn’t wanted to give himself another chance, he wanted you, and if he couldn’t have you then there was no other person for him, you were the one, and he knew that since you started dating but he gave in to his selfish needs. 

It was New Year’s Eve and his boss urged him to take a break. He had no other plans, he called his parents and texted his best friends wishing them a happy New Year because he was going to sleep early that night. Someone knocked on the door when he was on his way to the shower. Hanamaki and Matsukawa greeted him when he opened the door.

“At least act like you are glad to see us.” Matsukawa said.

“I thought you guys were in Miyagi.” 

“Yeah, but we knew you were going to mope around all day so we came to see you.” Hanamaki sat on the couch.

“Iwaizumi-san!” Kindaichi entered the apartment along with Kunimi and Watari. 

“You guys too?” He asked, hugging all of them, his mood slowly getting better.

“Yahaba and Kyotani are coming too.” Watari informed him before walking to the kitchen to drop the bags of takeout they all brought. “We thought a team reunion would pick you up.” 

“You didn’t have to, guys.” Iwaizumi took his laptop and a few papers that were on the coffee table to make some room. 

“But you need it.” Kunimi said with evident concern. Iwaizumi’s expression softened and his eyes watered, still wishing you were there but certainly not alone anymore, his friends still cared for him. 

“Don’t tell me you are crying!” Matsukawa teased him with an arm around his shoulders. 

“Of course not, you idiot, I’m just happy you are all here.” Everyone laughed at him, the ever so indifferent Iwaizumi almost crying was a rare sight, but warmth ran through everyone’s veins in that moment. 

Just like Watari promised, Yahaba and Kyotani joined shortly after, with tons of beer and baked goods Kyotani cooked for everyone. Hours passed, sharing laughs and reminiscing their high school days, the alcohol started to get the best of them, even Kunimi was cracking jokes every now and then, a few cigarette ends scattered around the table and empty plates piled on the sink. Iwaizumi laid back on the couch and stared at the ceiling, longing for something. 

“Makki told me you tried to call her.” Matsukawa said casually, lighting another cigarette. Iwaizumi sighed and looked at him inhale the smoke.

“I did, but we didn’t talk.” Matsukawa raised an eyebrow. “A guy picked up the phone and I hung up.”  Iwaizumi heard a ‘tsk’ from Matsukawa.

“That’s tough. But she has never mentioned anything about dating when we talk, maybe it was just a friend.” Issei reasoned and Iwaizumi nodded, still unsure.

“Have you seen her recently?” Iwaizumi asked. 

 “We went out the last time she went to Miyagi a few weeks ago. My girl loves her.” Matsukawa took out his phone from the back of his pocket and tapped the screen a few times before showing a picture of his girlfriend and you at some bar, smiling brightly at the camera, cheeks flushed and drinks on the table. Iwaizumi smiled to himself, you looked beautiful yet different, a different kind of light shined in your eyes. “She’s doing great.” 

“I miss her.” Words weren’t enough to describe how much he was hurting.

“I know, but you need to get over her, she already figured things out, you can’t hold to the past any longer. What you did was dick move, but give yourself a chance, you don’t have to date right now but try to get yourself out there, have fun and please get some. I’m begging you.” The last comment earned him a smack on the back of his head from Iwaizumi. 

“How do you know I’m not getting any? You don’t live here anymore.” Iwaizumi questioned. 

“Because Makki won’t stop bitching about your attitude.” Matsukawa explained and brought the cigarette back to his lips and laughed at Iwaizumi’s frown, exhaling the smoke in the opposite direction of his friends. “It’s almost midnight.” He announced. 

“Yeah you are right.” Iwaizumi looked back at the rest of the guys currently crowding his living room, smiling to himself once again. “Thanks.” He paused and looked at the former middle blocker. “For this, I mean, I really needed it.”

“Always.” Matsukawa gave him a pat on his shoulder and smiled, he still had hope for Iwaizumi and he wished nothing but the best for his friend, even if you were not together anymore, both of you deserved to be happy. 

*

Meanwhile in some five star hotel in Tokyo, you struggled to check-in, with a small suitcase and a dress bag hanging on your shoulder, you tried to make the receptionist understand you were part of the required staff for the night and not a reporter trying to get in, but you forgot your team ID. Hideko was nowhere to be seen and none of your higher ups were staying at the same hotel. You were screwed until someone could prove you were in fact working that night and you were losing precious time to get ready, you had less than 6 hours before the party started. 

“Is there a problem?” You heard someone ask from behind you. Meian and his girlfriend walked to the counter and the receptionist’s attitude changed instantly, he explained the situation politely to the two of them while sparing you a nasty side eye when they referred to you. 

“Meian-senshu, please tell them I work with you, they won’t let me check-in and I forgot my ID. My name is on the reservation but they refuse to give me my room.” You pleaded, your dress bag feeling heavier with every minute. 

“Y/N does work with the Black Jackals, I assume you know who I am, please let her in, she’s coming to the party too.” He pointed at the access pass on your wrist. 

“I’m really sorry, ma’am, I will register you right now.” The receptionist typed quickly and gave you the room key. Sighing heavily you thanked Meian for his help as he checked-in himself. His girlfriend started a small chat with you about what you would wear tonight, she was really excited to wear her gown and complemented yours.

“You are going to break hearts tonight, Y/N!” She teased. 

“Well if your dress is how I imagine it is then Meian-senshu is taking two awards tonight.” 

“You are not wrong.” Meian added, sneaking his arm around her waist and passed her the key. “Eleventh floor.” He said as she held the card. “Atsumu isn’t here yet?” He asked and you shrugged. 

“I don’t know, I’ve been here for a good thirty minutes and I didn’t see him come in.” You explained. “Bokuto is not here either.” Meian hummed.

“I’ll give them a call before we go up to our room, they are always late to these things.” 

“They are always late.” You corrected him and he laughed. “See you at the party.” You said before making your way to the elevator, wanting nothing but to get to your room and take a shower. 

Your room was rather big, but definitely not a suite, there were two beds, a desk and a closet right beside the bathroom door, and you had a really nice view of the city. Once you hung up your dress you walked to the window and stared at the city, the sunset claiming the sky and the city lights started to shine brighter. You missed Tokyo. Is not like Osaka was boring or anything, but Tokyo brought memories from your first days of college and all the friends you left behind. Sighing, you turned back and opened your suitcase to get the things you needed to shower and get ready.  

You styled your hair right after showering and did your makeup heavier than usual, you needed to be ready at least two hours before the actual party to have a small meeting with Hideko and the other teams management and make it in time for the red carpet. Struggling to zip your dress by yourself and accepting that you got half a size too small with your shoes again, you were at the door adjusting your earpiece, holding your clutch bag under your arm just in time to meet Hideko and the Jackals assistant coach in the elevator. “The red carpet shouldn’t take long, I’m trying to call everyone so they can get in at once, Y/N I’ll leave them to you.” Hideko ran you through. “Two minutes on the mark, two or three questions and done, you get in once they are all set.” 

“Got it.” You assured her.

“Great.” She sighed in relief. “There’s an after party tomorrow, the big boss wants to have brunch with everyone.” She emphasized the word ‘brunch’ to make it sound fancier and she rolled her eyes. “It is mandatory.” She said before you could ask. 

“I’ll be there then.” The door opened and you stepped out to meet a few people that told you the same thing Hideko said earlier, you talked to some acquaintances from other teams that were told to manage the red carpet along with you. 

“I’m going to strangle them, every single one of those volleyball players.” Hideko gripped her phone in her hands and you laughed. “They are all going to be late.” She massaged her temples and stomped her heels loudly, you could tell her stress was getting the best out of her. “Can you call Atsumu? I’m sure he’ll pick up if he sees it is you.” You complied to her request and dialed Atsumu’s number and turned the speaker on. After three rings he greeted you. 

“Hey, beautiful.” Your cheeks turned pink at the nickname.

“You can flirt later, Romeo, now tell me why you won’t pick up your damn phone.” She gritted her teeth and you cringed. She walked away with your phone as she gave Atsumu instructions to gather all of his teammates and meet her at the lobby. She gave you back your phone and practically ran to the lobby to wait for them. You decided to kill time talking to some people from the event management. After twenty minutes or so, the reporters and paparazzis were lined up in front of the step and repeat and you heard Hideko calling you from your earpiece. ‘They are ready, we go first. I’ll send them one by one, remember, they go first and then their plus one.’ 

You got yourself in position to receive the players, Inunaki was the first to walk in, you smiled at him and walked right behind him, setting him on the mark and stepping aside to let the photographers do their job. Repeating the same process with everyone from the team and their partners, you were ready to set the last three players, Atsumu, Bokuto and Sakusa. 

“You look so good, Y/N!” Bokuto exclaimed when he saw you, Akaashi trailing behind. 

“You two look amazing too!” You checked their outfits up and down. Both of them had tuxedos, Bokuto wore a dark grey suit that matched his hair and Akaashi a classic jet black, hair slicked back and their colognes mixed if you were standing too close.

“Akaashi helped me with my tie.” He said proudly and looked at his boyfriend who smiled back at him. 

“Are you alright?” Akaashi asked. 

“I must look rough, huh?” You chuckled and he rolled his eyes. “My shoes are killing me and I walked on this carpet twenty times already, I don’t think I’ll make it to the end of the night.” You held Bokuto’s bicep. “You ready?” You asked and they both nodded and you guided them to the marks on the step and repeat, Bokuto answered all of the questions cheerfully, excited for his nominations. Once he was done and you were at the entrance, Akaashi tapped your shoulder and made you look back. 

You saw Atsumu talking with Sakusa, their tall figures standing out from the crowd of distressed staff surrounding them, you made sure Bokuto and Akaashi were in before walking to them. Atsumu noticed you coming up to him and shamelessly checked you out —you weren’t that subtle either— smiling brightly once you were in front of him. “Who wants to go first?” You asked. 

“I’ll do it, I want to get over with this as soon as possible.” Kiyoomi huffed, taking his mask off and throwing it in the nearest trash can. “Let's go.” As always you walked him to the mark and waited for him to answer a few questions. Kiyoomi was a great actor, his stance and expression changed as soon as he faced the interviewers, answering calmly and politely. Atsumu was laughing his ass off, knowing that his friend was most likely planning how to get away from the ceremony, maybe faking a headache or even a fainting. You signaled Atsumu to start walking as Sakusa said his goodbyes to the press, you stepped back when Atsumu made it to the white cross mark on the floor and announced you were done with the red carpet on your radio. 

All of the reporters called for Atsumu, yelling questions and complimenting him, he smiled lazily with his hands in his pockets. 

“No plus one tonight, Miya?”  Atsumu laughed at the question.

“My mom was busy” A few of them laughed with him, but it was barely noticeable, the sounds of clicks and flashes from the cameras filled the area. 

“A young man like you showing alone at these events is hard to believe, you sure you don’t have a special someone, Miya-senshu?” 

Atsumu looked at you for less than a second and you saw clearly how his smile widened. “Maybe next time, guys.” He said, looking at you once again waiting for his queue to go, you nodded and he made his way to the main entrance, you following behind. “You look stunning, by the way.” He said as he walked past you when you held the door open for him to get in, you stared at his back until he was out of sight. Hideko dismissed you after that, so you could enjoy the party with the rest of the staff, she promised to join you later to have a drink because according to her, you deserved it. 

The rest of the teams invited to the ceremony were still coming in, but the salon was already filled with people, from sponsors to team owners, and some volleyball legends you recognized from the countless rambles Bokuto and Atsumu absorbed you in. It was different, it felt different, it wasn’t until that moment you realized the turn your career took after joining the team, it was crazy to think that you were part of this world now. A few taps on your shoulder were enough to snap you back to reality, Aran and Hana greeted you warmly and they looked amazing with Aran’s tie matching Hana’s red dress. “I think I’ll never get used to this.” She said and you agreed. Aran got abducted by some other players and you were left alone with her, the bar was conveniently close to you, so you opted to get something to drink to start the night. “Where’s Atsumu?” She asked. 

“I have no idea, he walked in and I lost him, maybe with the rest of the team” You pointed to a table near the center where most of the team members sat, waiting for the ceremony to start. He was indeed sitting with coach Foster and Barnes, laughing fondly and having their first glass of wine. You smiled to yourself in satisfaction, everything was going well, and hopefully everyone would take an award home. 

“That man over there is totally checking you out.” Hana said and you turned your head back to see her. “To your left.” As soon as you looked where she told you, you felt your soul leave your body and come back right after. 

“I’ll be back in a second.” You announced and walked towards the man that was ‘totally checking you out’. “Don’t you know staring is rude?” 

“Oh shut up, I couldn’t recognize you from here.” He defended himself. “I forgot my glasses at home.” You hugged him.

“You’ll  never learn.” Giggling he nudged your shoulder and stepped back to have a better view of your face. “My friend thought you were checking me out.” 

“Come on, I have higher standards.” He teased. “Where 's Bokuto? He said to meet him here earlier.” 

“He’s with the team, over there.” You pointed with your head and he hummed when he saw the grey haired man standing next to his boyfriend, talking with people you didn’t knew. You caught a glance of his smirk before he said:

“Does everyone here greet you with death stares or is it only that guy walking over here?”  Kuroo asked. You turned your head back to see Atsumu approaching you, pushing past all the people that tried to intersect him on his way to you. 

“Hey, uh, Hideko is looking for you.” He lied, you looked at him weird, you were pretty sure that Hideko was busy talking with the event management. 

“That’s weird, she would’ve rang me if she needed me.” You said showing your radio. Picking up on his jealousy tantrum by the way he was standing protectively in front of you, you grabbed his arm and pushed him to the side and made him turn around. “Kuroo, this is Miya Atsumu. Tsumu, this is my best friend Kuroo, the one I talked you about before.” Atsumu’s frown softened a bit but he was still suspicious — and jealous— about Kuroo and his smug grin. 

“Kuroo Tetsuro, I work with the institution.” He extended his hand and Atsumu did the same. 

“When you say it like that you almost sound important.” You mocked.

“That’s because I am important, baby.” Kuroo said, knowing exactly what he was doing by using that pet name. “Now, I’ll leave you both to it, I need to talk with Bokuto.” He excused himself and you were left alone with Atsumu, with your hand still on his arm, you walked him to the bar  where Hana waited for you.

“What was that about?” You asked. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I saw a suspicious man near you and I thought you needed help.” He shrugged. 

“Yeah, right, there’s nothing suspicious about Kuroo, he’s an idiot, don’t mind him.” You reassured him. “That was my best friend, not a man checking me out.” You said to Hana when you made it back to her side.

“He looks like a pervert.” Hana admitted. 

“See? I’m not the only one who thought there was something wrong with him.” Atsumu looked at you with wide eyes. The lights dimmed and the last call before the ceremony started was heard. “This is going to start soon, let’s take our seats.” You accompanied Hana to the Red Falcons table and then headed to your team’s seats with Atsumu’s hand in yours at all times, unbuttoning his jacket he sat right beside you.

“Are you nervous?” You asked him. 

“Not in the slightest.” He lied to you for the second time that night. He was terrified, he didn’t wanted to lose the award, especially in front of you.  

“I hope you prepared an acceptance speech.”  He sighed soundly and squeezed your hand. 

“No need, Tobio-kun is here, that award is his.” He sounded defeated, it was your turn to give his hand a squeeze. While you knew many sides of Atsumu he didn’t show often, you weren’t familiar with his pessimist persona, it was a sight you didn’t like at all, defeat wasn’t a good look on him. 

“Stop that, award or not, you are still one of the best setters in the country and no one can change that.” He let go of your hand to call the waiter to get you whatever you wanted to drink, whining for your long forgotten gimlet you left behind when you were talking to Kuroo, you asked for water. “You made me waste a drink.”

“I didn’t do anything, you are the forgetful one here.”  Your banter was cut short by Adriah’s voice, the ceremony started without the two of you noticing. 

“It’s an honor to be hosting the twenty-seventeen Volleyball Association Awards. Tonight the best players of all three divisions will be rewarded for their performance during the last two seasons. How are you feeling tonight, Komori?” Adriah looked at the EJP Raijin’s Libero. 

“Thank you for that introduction, Adriah, and I’m really excited to see who will win in each category, and speaking of, our categories for tonight are: coach, setter, middle blocker, wing spiker and libero of the year; best captain, and best new comer.” A screen behind both hosts showed the nominations at the same time Komori listed them. 

“Both men's and women’s leagues will be presented by our wonderful co-hosts, let’s get started with our first nomination, we leave you with Tsukasa Iizuna from the Deseo Hornets.” Adriah and Komori walked out the stage after shaking hands with Iizuna. He introduced the nominees for wing spiker of the year.   

After an hour or so, Inunaki was the only one in the team with an award, sadly Meian lost to Fukuro Hirugami and Suna won best newcomer over Bokuto and Sakusa. “Presenting the setter of the year nominees, Kanoka Amanai, wing spiker of the women’s National Volleyball Team for the 2016 olympics and the Hisamitsu Springs.” Komori introduced a tall girl in a beautiful yellow dress, she smiled nervously and held the envelope with the winner tightly. 

“A lot of people often think that us spikers do all the job at scoring points, but the truth is, that setters are the ones that rule the court from both sides, we wouldn’t be anything without our setters. That’s why I’m honored to present to you the nominees for the setter of the year award.” The screen in the back showed pictures and the names from each nominee, Atsumu’s name right beside Kageyama’s. 

“And the winner is…” Kanoka said, opening the envelope. “Miya Atsumu, from the MSBY Black Jackals.” She read after a few seconds and everyone cheered. Atsumu looked at you with wide eyes and hugged you instinctively. The rest of the team practically dragged him out of his seat to receive his award. He almost tripped trying to hug Aran on his way to the stage but he made it eventually. He took the golden statue in one hand and stood in front of the microphone with his mouth agape and laughing nervously. 

“Wow.” He said, now wishing he prepared an acceptance speech. “This is unbelievable, really. I didn’t expect to win something like this in my first year playing professionally.” He looked at the statue and then back to the crowd. “ Sometimes I push myself too hard for the sake of my team and the weight of losing is always devastating, especially playing this position, but I’m thankful to everyone. My teammates, coach Foster and our management for trusting me and pushing me to do my best. I also want to thank my friends and my brother, who is not here tonight, but he was the best spiker I’ve ever had and the one that trained with me everyday since we were kids, I know he is going to see this, so, thank you ‘Samu, I wouldn’t be here without you.”  He was talking really fast and barely breathing. “This means a lot to me, thank you so much.” He finished and the crowd cheered for him, your table was the loudest of them all. 

He walked back to his seat where everyone waited to congratulate him but he went straight to you and hugged you again, tighter this time. “I told you that you were going to win. I’m so proud of you.” You said before breaking the hug. 

“Thank you.” His eyes were watery and his lip quivered. You made him turn to celebrate with his teammates before he cried and everyone gave him aggressive pats on his back and teased him for being so cheesy. He was happy. So happy he couldn’t stop smiling even when the ceremony ended. 

The party went on smoothly but it was quite boring, everyone wandered around the room talking and congratulating the winners, you grew tired of following Hideko around, big parties weren’t your thing if you were honest. You excused yourself and found your way to a huge balcony that worked as an outdoor smoking lounge. The cold air against your skin made you regret your decisions but it was too late to back down. You placed your hands on the railing and tried to get used to the freezing weather, looking down, you saw a restaurant across the street, the customers wore hats and drank happily celebrating the new year. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. After your realization you checked the hour. 

11:47 P.M.

“What are you doing here?”  Atsumu asked and closed the door behind him. “I’ve been looking for you.” 

“I needed some air.” You stated. 

“Aren’t you cold?” You felt his breath on your ear and smiled. 

“Not really.” You said turning around. He knew you were lying.“Why are you here? You should be celebrating.” You fixed his tie as you spoke, your eyes met his. Taking a better look of his face you smiled to yourself. Atsumu was stunning. Sure he looked good everyday but tonight it was different, it was maybe the tuxedo  or the victorious smile gracing his face, he was the definition of beauty, in its purest form; happiness. 

“Got bored, and I wanted to ask you something.” He explained and placed his hands on their usual spot on your hips. 

“Oh god, please tell me you are not asking me out on New Year’s Eve.” you hooked your arms around his neck and played with the back of his hair. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, now shut up and let me make this special.” He tried to bring you closer to him and looked at the moon for a second. “I know it has been hard for you to give yourself another chance to live your life like you want to, and you don’t know how thankful I am for being a part of it. I also know your last boyfriend was an asshole and hurted you beyond repair” 

“Well that’s a way to put it.” You interrupted him and laughed.

“Let me finish.” He laughed along with you. “I promise you, I will treat you so much better if you let me. I know maybe I’m not what you are looking for but you are all I want.”  He was sincere, you could tell by the way his eyes pierced into you, eagerly waiting for you to say something. 

“I don’t know where you got that from, but you are wrong, ‘Tsumu. You are all I want too.” You looked at him with the same intensity but you had tears in your eyes. He didn’t waste another second and kissed you. It was long, and passionate, and loving. He wanted to tell you everything he couldn’t with that kiss. 

He was yours. 

“Now I’m the real winner tonight.” He joked when he pulled apart. 

“Shut up.” You kissed him again before he could say something stupid. 

“Are we interrupting something?” Aran and Suna peaked from the door. “Get in before the countdown starts.” Suna ordered without waiting for an answer, you did as he said, walking hand in hand with Atsumu, something that wasn’t strange for you but this time it was different, because he was yours. 

You had to walk faster to stand with your friends and some team members and the countdown started. Ten. Everyone chanted excitedly to receive the new year. 

Nine, eight, seven, six.

“Ready?” Atsumu asked, staring at you lovingly. 

Five

“I am. But what if I don’t want this to end?” 

Four

“Too late for that, babe, let’s make the most out of this year too.” He kissed the back of your hand and giggled. “Let’s ditch this party first.”

Three

“Please.” You agreed and looked around to spot your friends standing near you with glasses full of champagne.

Two

He brought you closer to him with his hand on the small of your back, lips painfully close to yours.

One

“Happy new year, Y/N.” 

“Happy new year, ‘Tsumu.”  With that said, he gave you a New Year’s kiss you’ll never forget, once again telling you that he was yours. 

And you were his.

(a/n: look who finally came back!! the worst writer ever. so uhm, i literally have no excuse this time, depression has been kicking my ass lately and i had a huge creative block, there was nothing going on in my head, it was just me and mitski against the world. anyways, there you have it, iwaizumi being miserable and a wholesome seijoh reunion without oikawa because he is booked and busy. ALSO !!! ATSUMU!!! WHAT THE HECK MARRY ME IM SO IN LOVE WITH HIM. and no i don’t know what complying to canon is, im sorry kageyama but it was atsumu’s moment to shine, you’ll get it next year... or not. tell me if you liked this chapter, i love reading y’all. i hope everyone is safe and healthy, remember to take time for yourself and that atsumu is the only man ever!!)

masterlist

TAGLIST (closed): @aonenthusiast @wiseeggspickleslime​ @koushisun​ @airheadpillar​ @sunflwrsandprettyskies​ @bbkiyoomi​ @daphnxy​ @shephard17895​ @avatarkyoshithewarrior​ @for-rebloggery​ @vv-bee999-vv vv @fi16ns @asdfghjkl7things @glassykaashi @strawhatshepard @hawkssnugget @msby-kei @toobsessedsstuff @a-moon-fairy @cuteissei @ramblingsofagoofyperson @pinoyrella @kiyoomisimp

[jgvfhl]

hello I'm back on my bs again 😌 can I request "princess" from the pet names with Fives pls ??

Your bs is my bs, friend 😌💙 This one got away from me a bit. I had some idea about something and then this came in and shoved the first idea off a cliff I think. BUT IT'S STILL CUTE!!!! 💙

The Pet Names Prompts are still open! I'm basically just gonna keep em open until they're gone lol. I will say that sweetheart and cyare are in the works, so pick somethin else 🌸

The layers of clothing on you were finally drying out now you were under the shelter. You, and about three dozen of your neighbors. It was getting harder and harder not to resent the existence of other people around you as your discomfort grew, but you knew it was pointless to get upset. The war wouldn’t listen to your tears of frustration, just like it hadn’t heard anyone’s grumblings as the town was evacuated for an impending Separatist attack. That’s what the Jedi had told the mayor, anyway. You didn’t want to move. Your home was dry and warm--well maybe not so warm after you’d been gone for… how long was it again?

“Why are we stuck here?” An elderly woman behind you shifted. “We have been here for hours!”

Someone else reminded her, “The rain made the roads muddy, the general said the transports are delayed.”

The woman scoffed bitterly. “Well I am hungry. I have missed my supper.”

You sighed. Twisting around as much as you could from where you sat, you offered, “I could see if they have some food? It won’t be your home cooking, but it’ll be food.”

“Fine, fine,” the old woman said, waving her hand. The someone else--a man you knew lived down your street--gave a grateful, small smile.

Really, it was just an excuse to get out from this crowd of people and stretch your chilled legs a bit. And, if it made the woman a bit quieter, that was a bonus. You got to your feet and carefully extracted yourself from the temporary shelter, then stopped to find… someone in charge, you supposed. All the troopers in white and blue looked the same, though: there were all helmeted and busy, despite the mud splattering their boots and the rain making a sheen on their armor. But finally, your eyes caught someone different, so you pulled your coat closer around your body, and set off through the soaking rain.

However, the universe wasn’t done ruining your day yet. You were about three or four feet away from the trooper whose armor had caught your attention--specifically the wide shoulder things and the fabric hung from his belt. Your foot went down for your next step, and then… kept going. You pitched forward, instinctively throwing your arms out to catch yourself as you toppled towards the muddy ground in front of you. Stupid kriffing universe.

Your hands never made contact. Someone else’s hands, however, grabbed your upper arms right below your shoulders, saving you from a soaking in mud as well as water.

“Whoa, hey,” the trooper said, pulling you upright. At least he was the guy you were aiming for. You had been hoping for a slightly more competent first impression. Oh well. “You alright, princess?”

Blinking up at his black visor, you processed his words, as well as the snake-like creature painted above his black visor. You collected yourself, standing up and wresting your arms back from him. “No. I am not, I am having a horrible day, actually.”

The trooper held up pacifying hands. “Okay, sorry. I know, no one’s in a good mood. Anything I can do to help?”

Wiping rain out of your eyes with a damp sleeve, you felt bad for snapping at him. He sounded nice, anyway. You shifted your feet, feeling one of them squelch from water. Ugh. “Just… it’s been a while, and a lot of us are getting hungry. Anything you can do about that?”

He nodded. “Right, right. Yeah, maybe we’re too used to carrying rations on our person. I’ll let the captain know, he can find some men to hand out some rations.”

A quiet breath of relief left your lips. “Thank you.” You looked behind you to gauge where the puddle was to avoid a repeat incident on your way back.

“Hey.” You looked back at the trooper. “Do you want dry socks, or something? Wet socks--worst feeling in the galaxy, right next to--well.” He made a vague gesture. “Polite company.”

You raised a brow at him. “Just because you called me princess doesn’t mean you need to treat me like one.”

“What?” His smile was audible. “Of course it does. I am a soldier of the Republic, and I would be shirking my duties if I let a princess walk around with wet socks.”

Dry socks did sound really nice, even if your shoes were already soaked. You looked down at your overall soggy person, sort of smiling to yourself that anyone would look at this mess and think royalty. Oh, what could it hurt… “Yeah, okay,” you agreed. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing, princess.”

@nl13 @darth-void @blsmjoon

[liibrii]

fem!Miya!reader x Suna Rintarou || mostly platonic || part of the Third Miya series

Synopsis: A glimpse into your friendship with Suna during your 1st year at Inarizaki High school.

Warnings: barely proofread, general stupidity, there's a serial killer joke, reader is a lil shit

wc: 1.6k

a/n: naming chapters is hard 😭 as always feedback is greatly appreciated and if you wanna be tagged in future chapters let me know!

Friendship with Suna is one of those where you can't quite remember how or when it started. One week he was just that lanky guy sitting at a desk to the right of you, the next week you walked home together and you told him your brothers' embarrassing childhood stories in exchange for chemistry homework. In a way it's an echo of all your childhood friendships forged on the beach with other kids you only knew for a week but during that week you'd take over the world for them if they asked. But the one week friendship with Suna became two weeks, three weeks, and after the fourth you stopped counting.

Suna Rintarou is a funny guy. Not funny as in telling jokes or spouting quips and smirks. He's funny in a way that even now you can't really tell who he is. He's quiet. But not shy in the slightest. He moved over from Aichi and you cringe at the memory of saying: “Oh so that's why ya talk funny. I thought yer just pretentious,“ when he told you. Your ears catch on fire by just thinking about it. So embarrassing. But he must have pretty low standards for his friends because at the time he didn't really seem bothered by your slip of the tongue. The next day he offered you a chuupet and that was enough to buy your undying loyalty.

Suna's a funny guy. You don't know how he became your friend, you don't know what he sees in you that makes him put up with you. But you're glad to have an inside man on the volleyball team.

Years of living together with the same person makes one develop the ability of sniffing out trouble before they even start to happen. In this case it's four empty pudding packages in the trash bin that make you decide to nope right out of there before Tsumu tries to blame you for their mysterious disappearance. Again.

You put on music and walk aimlessly through the streets, one of those walks where it doesn't matter if you get lost because you have no clue where you're headed anyway. Everyone needs a stroll like that from time to time. Often they lead to situations that would otherwise probably never happen. Like running into a serial killer, but luck is on your side today so the only person you run into is a familiar lanky figure stretching by the side of the road. “Sunarin! Didn't expect to meet ya here!“

He looks up and his blushed sweaty face wears the same expression as ever. In the last months you've learned Suna has two expressions, the deadpan one, and the deadpan one with furrowed brows. “O, Miya. Well, I live nearby.“ Oh right, you did pass the bus station where he exits just a song ago. “Taking a stroll, are you?“

“Samu and Tsumu are having a screamin' match right now so I decided to get myself out of there before they'd drag me into it.“

“Tragic. Where are you headed?“

Your destination is 'who cares' so you join Suna on a walk. It's good he already ran his evening route because you're not in the mood to reenact a wanna be healthy person's only free time activity.

Just a short walk between the apartment buildings by the side of the road you reach a path of cobble stones that leads further between trees.  

“What? You didn't know there's a park here?“ Suna smirks and you're surprised his face muscles are even capable of stretching so far.

You shake your head, slightly embarrassed. “No, I really didn't. To be fair this neighbourhood used to be ruled by another clan so we never played around here,“ you quickly add as if children clan wars from years ago are a better excuse than simply being unfamiliar with this part of the town.

Suna doesn't comment but the corners of his mouth keep tugging up even after you walk through the park. Or maybe that's because you tripped over nothing while watching a cat cross your path.

“We have a cat back home,“ he tells you and shows you the picture of his little sister with a big fluffy orange cat on her lap.

“So cute,“ you coo, “looks just like ya.“

“Oh yeah, lots of people say she looks just like me. I think I'm more handsome though.“

“No, I meant the cat.“

This time you're the one prepared to jump away form a well aimed kick but Suna only gives you a disappointed glare. “I thought you were the nice Miya.“

You sympathetically pat his shoulder. “Sorry. My sincere condolences. Shall I send some flowers for the funeral of yer last brain cell? Samu always wanted a cat but dad wouldn't let him.“

“Really? Why not?“

“Oh he made the mistake of asking just after the mango incident.“

“The-“

“Only Miyas are allowed to know about it,“ you say, snickering at Suna's furrowed brows. You know curiosity is going to eat at him for weeks to come. Maybe you should come up with a cover story, just in case. “Do ya miss yer friends? Ones from Aichi I mean?“

Suna thinks for a moment, maybe still trying to figure out what a mango incident could possibly be. “Sometimes,“ he says after a while and a poke to his side, “but I met a lot of new people at the dorms. Inarizaki isn't that bad either. There's you and Ginjima, and your brothers sometimes, and ehm,“ he mumbles as he tries to remember whom else he could call a friend.

“If Tsumu or Samu bring this topic up just let them know ya were my friend first,“ you pout. That's the problem with having had siblings in the same class for the entire grade and middle school; all your friends were also their friends. “It can't be easy,“ you say, half trying to make him feel better, and half just changing the topic that's starting to turn his ears red, “movin' over here I mean. Ya really left all ya knew behind for volleyball. That's pretty admirable. Ya just might be as crazy as Samu and Tsumu.“

“Please don't compare me to your brothers,“ says Suna.

“That bad, eh? So what's it like? Livin' in a dorm?“

“Oh. Well. We're four in a room-“

“Yikes. And I thought havin' two other people in your room is a lot.“

Suna laughs. Oh, so he can do that. It suits him, you decide after a moment. “Now take into account that two of those keep leaving dirty socks around.“

“Oh I know what that's like,“ you nod, all too familiar with dirty socks under table, under bed and other parts of bed you'd rather not think about.

“I doubt you'd get in trouble for punching them though.“

“Oh I would.“ You look him over. “Ya don't really look like a punchin' type to me. More a very petty guy. Soy sauce in mornin' tea kind of guy.“

“You're giving me ideas.“

“Thanks, that will be one kit-kat. Or none if ya put some in Samu's water bottle.“

“All in all dorm isn't that bad,“ Suna tells you once you both stop laughing over the prospect of putting soy sauce into Osamu's drink. “Wish I could sleep a bit longer in the morning but what can you do? And I miss mom's cooking. We cook ourselves and the food is good. Usually. It's just not the same, you know? Want a chuupet?“

“Ya brought a chuupet to an evenin' run?“

You still gladly take the fruit stick. It's a rare occasion in which it isn't in danger of being snatched away by one of your co-spawns. You don't comment but the next day a neatly wrapped bento box waits on Suna's table.

Suna doesn't quite remember when you became friends. One day you were a girl from his class that looked suspiciously similar to those loud Twins on the volleyball team (the moment he realised your last name is in fact Miya too he felt incredibly stupid for not noticing sooner), the next day you're hanging with him during breaks and sending him messages along the lines of 'I'll buy you as many chuupets as ya want if ya tell me what happened at practice yesterday, I need to let Tsumu know who's the boss' that usually arrive in the middle of the night. Even if they wake him up your name popping on his screen still makes him smile.

Really it takes impossibly long for Suna to realise he doesn't enjoy being in your presence only because being friends with you is as easy as getting the ball around a block or because you're the one Miya to voluntarily share your food with him.

The moment the cogs finally fell in their place and began to spin, making the little 'there might be something more' thought appear is one he'll remember for the rest of his life, and will quite probably haunt his nightmares too.

That's the thing about emotions (truly the revelations of that day are almost too much for his volleyball focused teenage brain), they take over neurones in charge of sending information around the brain, bribing the ones running toward mouth to run faster than the ones heading towards the comprehension centre, and then you find yourself in awkward situations such as saying your name out loud in the packed locker room followed by: “She's really funny and amazing. I like her a lot.“

But the situation being awkward is the least of Suna's problems as two pairs of almost identical brown eyes stare him down.

Oh, shit.

tag list: @espressons @trashy-simp @nachotrash @megumiisee @foxxtrot-116 @e-wwis​

[soukokuwu]

could i please get a super soft scenario of just being on a date with dazai? maybe he had a bad day, so the reader decides to treat him for dinner, letting him choose their meal. afterwards, sitting on the grass at a park, with a blanket around them and watching the sunset. him cuddling into her, while she runs her fingers through his scalp and kisses his head. tysm :) i love ur writing and u seem like such a cool person irl

LOVEBUG.      genre. fluff      synopsis. people can change, even the most unlikely ones.      word count. 1.4k      author notes. this took so long for me to get out i’m so sorry!! but thanks for waiting, if you’re still here, and tysm for your kindness anony <33 hehe someone thinks i’m cool :3

times change, and so do people.

you are the catalyst of dazai’s change, the one that takes over him akin to a hurricane overwhelming a small city. but whereas a hurricane leaves a destruction in its wake, you grew flowers in the barren soil which was his life. where he would once rather drown in the ocean, now he drowns in thoughts of you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

there was a time where he would rejoice in being alone, to stop putting on a facade. because truth be told? it’s tiresome. but funny enough, where he deigns to be himself on a day-by-day basis, he deems it worthy when it’s with you.

because how can love be real when he doesn’t bare himself?

which is why when a case earlier that day reminded him of the only loss he ever grieved, he gets the overwhelming urge to just see you, to hug you and inhale the scent of your hair, the scent that naturally calms.

it’s a wednesday, and he usually doesn’t come over on work nights, but he can’t help himself. dazai allows himself to drag his feet over to your apartment uninvited.

tap. tap. tap.

slow, and weak, on the mahogany door.

you only just settled down after a long exhausting day at work, but already an unwonted visitor. you stifle a grumble, socks muting your harsh stomps against the marble floor, but any trace of irritation is carried away by the wind when you feel the familiar texture of bandaged arms brushing against your skin, and the subtle elation under his controlled murmur.

“i’m so glad to see you.”

you take a moment to collect yourself, before you return his hug. you stop yourself from asking the obvious ‘are you okay’ because you think it redundant. for dazai to go out of his way and visit you out of the blue? something is definitely bothering him. but it isn’t your place to pry — you know it’s impossible for him to talk about his cases (you deduce that it’s the only factor in the current that would make him feel this way). however, there is one thing you can do as his girlfriend.

make an effort.

you drag your boyfriend inside and shut the door behind him, observing as he flings himself down onto the sofa, the perfect embodiment of exhaustion. whatever it is that managed to bring him down this bad just means you have that much more work to do to pull him back up. and no, you don’t mind at all, actually. on the contrary, you love being the one he entrusts these particular notions to. you know he would rarely ever let anyone else’s actions dictate his mood. except yours.

in that honeyed voice of yours, you lean down and let your thumb ghost his lips, earning yourself a pout from your boyfriend as he looks up at you. “tell me anything you want for dinner, i’ll whip it up for you,” you offer.

dazai grins, sitting up and presses the tip of his nose against yours, a glint in his eyes. “i know just the thing i want.”

“are you sure this is all you want?”

dazai chuckles at your skepticality, offering only a grin in response, jabbing his fork down onto the meat and swallowing it readily.

now it’s your turn to giggle. it still baffles you how this is his idea of a perfect dinner: crab from a can with bottled sake from the supermarket. he’s aware that you can cook up a much better, high-end version of this, with your knack for fancy plating and wanton knowledge of compatible herbs.

but you know better than to question it. his answer would probably be much too complicated for you anyway. so you roll with it. not everything has to have an answer. you know when probing is unnecessary. this is one of those times. it isn’t too difficult to just be content with what you have. because you are. very. just lounging with dazai, sitting on the floor eating on the coffee table.

it’s simple. homely.

the both of you have a lively debate on the alleged corruption of one of the state senators, occasionally being sidetracked by the music playing on the television. by the time the two of you finish up, you notice the sun sinking lower and lower against the sky. you glance at your watch, twenty-three minutes left, give or take.

“what is it?” dazai asks with a simple head-tilt and wondering eyes.

now you grin in reply, “come on, let me take you somewhere.”

fifteen minutes later you’re leaning against his side, sitting on the freshly cut grass, watching as the sun sets on the horizon, the orange resembling fire hearths and tangerines. you feast your eyes on the sight before you as the rich hues of orange blends with purples and crimsons.

you always liked sunsets. they remind you of fresh colours brushing upon a blank canvas, leaves you wondering how something so beautiful managed to exist in the first place.

“a masterpiece, isn’t it?” you subconsciously ask, your gaze fixed on the sky before you, an unobstructed view thanks to your many-a-times spent wandering around the park near your home.

“yeah, it is.”

dazai isn’t agreeing with you though, not completely. because while you’re admiring the scenery, he’s admiring you. you’re the only masterpiece in his eyes, a timeless existence being captured in the lock of your gaze. he shifts his pupils back to the centre before you can catch him staring at you, though.

but he finds that that mere few seconds of admiring you isn’t enough. so he casually lays his head on your thighs, much to your surprise. you try to lean back, aware that it isn’t the most flattering angle for him to see you in, but he reaches up to move your face back into place.

“you’re beautiful, belladonna, don’t hide that.”

you can feel a heat creep up on your cheeks as you sheepishly smile back at him and give in. besides, when have you ever been able to say no to him?

and maybe now you do understand why he prefers the simple things. because as the blanket of the velvety night signals the end of the drowning sun, a thought pops into your head.

there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. because it’s not about what you’re doing, it’s about who you’re with. and never did you think you’d ever be enough for someone as prodigious as dazai osamu, but that isn’t important. what matters is that he thinks so, and he does. you know it. he’s shown it to you countless times, even if they are through subtle, unconventional means.

so you text your boss to request a sick leave tomorrow, something you have never done so just because you’re the hardworker that you are. but when you peer down at your beloved boyfriend’s blissful face, you think that some things deserve more weightage in your life as opposed to corporations that largely looks at their workers as being replaceable.

that night you wrap the blanket you prepared around the both of you as you shift to lie down on his chest, letting the steady pulse of his heartbeat envelop your ears. you call out to him, only to get his rhythmic breathing as a response. slowly, you flicker your eyes up to peek at him. he’s already asleep. and you exhale a silent laugh at how absolutely harmless he looks in this state.

he was the one that came to you seeking refuge from his troubles, so how did it end up helping you blow your own negativity away? he really is a remarkable person, you think.

“i love you,” you whisper to him, before you let yourself fall prey to your enervation.

and as your consciousness slips away, you think you hear the faint rustle of sleeves and the muffled murmurs of someone trying to tell you something.

“i’d stay alive forever if it meant i could spend an eternity with you.”

but you’re already fast asleep, and it’s okay. because the man with the voice responsible for such earnest words knows. he knows he’s going to spend his entire life convincing you so.

tags. @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes @smoochi-dazai @animatedarchives @chihxru ask me to be added/removed <3