#BUT THIS YEAR HIS BIRTHDAY IS THE NEXT WEEK

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Dear Lover - Hyunjin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: fiancè Hyunjin x fem! reader

summary: Your parents have picked a husband for your sister and the two of them have been writing love letters back and forth for years before they meet on their wedding day. There is just one problem: you've been the one sending the letters to her future husband and now you're in love!

warnings: just fluff! some angst, drama, very soft hyunjin, lovesick reader

“Maybe start with why you were the one writing me the letters and not your sister?” Hyunjin’s nostrils flared as he spoke. But his tone wasn’t angry, just confused. You looked exactly how he pictured you from your letters. A softness about you that translated through your words.

“She asked me to. In the beginning, she didn’t want to write to you. So, she asked me to do it instead to make our parents happy.” You pulled at the hem of your shirt, twisting it this way and that while your eyes stayed fixed on the ground. “Please, don't be upset with her.”

Hyunjin stepped back for a moment. His eyes searched yours as the two of you finally locked onto one another. Eyes that he had pictured late at night. A face he had only seen in his dreams. Everything he had said in the letter was true. He was in love, just not with your sister. But the wedding was planned, the invitations sent out.

It was springtime when the letters first began. You remember the sound of birds chirping outside your bedroom window when your parents made the announcement that your sister was to be wed on the year of her 21st birthday.

“But I don’t want to marry someone I’ve never met!” She screamed. You were only partially paying attention. You were no longer the focus of your parents' attention. You were twenty-four now and practically a spinster. Your sister was going to have her wedding the very next spring. One year. She had one year to comply and accept what was happening.

“We’ve already failed with your older sister, we will not fail with you.” Your father boomed. His fat finger pointed sternly at you.

While your little sister protested for a few weeks, she ultimately agreed upon the marriage if she could at least see who she was to be betrothed to. But letters are all his family would agree to. A stern, traditional family that negotiated the terms of advised letters to be written once a week for one year until the wedding day. Meetings were held in secret by the patriarchs of the two families. Hands were shook and large cigars were smoked in celebration of the upcoming union. Then one cool spring night, your sister came knocking at your door with a favor to ask.

“You’re a writer. Just write the letters for me and make me sound good okay?” She begged, her hands folding together while her eyes pleaded with you.

Reluctantly you agreed. One week after the other, you tried your best to sound like your sister. You wrote about her interests instead of your own. You included her favorite color and her favorite kind of food. But somewhere down the line, you slipped. Hyunjin had written about a favorite book of yours – Little Women. He had written paragraphs discussing the different characters and the depth of their description and diversity from one another. He had gushed about the writing style and the eloquent use of simile and metaphors. And your heart fluttered, fluttered and flipped in a way that was new and exciting. Your next letter was completely you. It was your voice, your thoughts, your ideas. The words just flowed out of you like wine and you would feel almost drunk by the time you signed your sister’s name at the bottom.

Hyunjin would soon write about more personal subjects; his fears and insecurities. Of which you felt a kinship with. You would respond with words of comfort and love, thanking him for being so open and vulnerable with you. You would tell him about a beautiful sunset you saw or the lovely sound that snow made when you take a step early in the morning. Hyunjin would tell you how ready he was to hear that sound. How eager he was to hold you, to hear your laugh and touch your lips at last-

When everything was said and done, you knew the exact moment that things had gone too far. You had said “I love you” in your final letter before the wedding. Hyunjin had responded that he was on his way and that he “loved you more that there were stars in the sky.”

You held that last letter tightly in your hands as the all black town car pulled into the driveway of your family home. You would see him, finally see him, and he would see you. Only you would be a shadow cast behind your sister. Hyunjin could never know that those words were not hers. He would marry her and you would go back to your life before. As Hyunjin slowly stepped out of the car, the sunlight shone through his hair like a beacon. His forearm flexed as he gripped the car door and closed it behind him. He stood still for a moment, his eyes flicking between you and your sister until his gaze finally landed on you. Your sister hastily stepped in front of you and introduced herself. Hyunjin shook his head for a second to break the stare between the two of you before smiling warmly at your sister. He held her tightly, his long arms sweeping around her waist and pulling her close to his chest.

“I am so happy to meet you in person, my love!” He exclaimed, his hand coming up to cradle your sister’s face.

Dinner was a complete blur. The clanking sound of silverware and glasses swirled around your ears while your mind drifted further and further from the dining room. The voices of your family were distant, just an echo of a sound as you attempted to keep your food down. After dinner, Hyunjin and your sister snuck off somewhere in the house to be alone. You made your way up to your room and lied on your bed, willing your brain to erase the last year so the heaviness in your chest would subside.

“Fine! Okay? I didn’t write those stupid letters! But that doesn’t mean anything, right?” your sister shouted from the other side of the wall. You stayed in bed and made your way to the wall that divided your two rooms to see if you could hear anything. “She’s a loser! You don’t want her!” Your sister screamed.

“If she is the one that wrote all those letters, then I do. I do want her.”

Your heart dropped. You moved your head away from the wall and turned to face your bedroom door as you heard footsteps approach.

“Please, don’t be upset with her.”

“I’m not upset with her.” Hyunjin took a step closer, closing the gap between the two of you. “You look just as I imagined.” He whispered, his breath brushing softly against your neck.

Your breath hitched as he moved closer. Your hands move instinctively to his waist. Your hips coming into contact with his as his hands move down your back and come to rest at your sides. He leans into your ear and speaks in a low tone. A secret shared just between the two of you. Something intimate that nothing in this world could penetrate. “You’re the one I want to marry. You’re the bride I have been waiting for.”

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry @hearts4yawnzzn @jchotch726 @cherricola-star @minh0scat

[felixbit]

birthday

pairing: bang chan x gn!reader w. 1.4k genre: fluff summary: spending your birthday with your boyfriend, chan a/n: written for my best friend <3 happy birthday

Birthdays with Chan were something you looked forward to every year.

He had always been the ultimate gift giving boyfriend. It could be a random day and he'd come home with brand new headphones for you. The week surrounding your birthday was a time filled with small (and large) gifts.

The day itself had pretty big shows of affection, although he preferred not to do everything in one day. He valued you feeling appreciated, so he stretched out all of his gifts over the course of your birthday week. A few days before and a few days after would come with presents and treats.

On the morning of your birthday, you woke up in bed to a pleasant smell. He'd let you sleep in and even gotten up early, just finishing up breakfast as you sat up in bed. When you'd finally convinced yourself to get out of bed, he waltzed into the room with your favorite breakfast dish and a little side drink.

Next to the food would be a handwritten love letter, and he'd give you a kiss on your forehead as he delivered it. As much as he wanted to stay with you while you ate, he had to run and finish up making sure the apartment looked spotless.

Once you had finally finished, he swept the dishes away and had them all cleaned before your morning routine was even done. The last thing he wanted was for you to think of household chores on your big day.

The morning was slow after that. He sat out with you on the couch, cuddled up in a big warm blanket and watching shows. He didn't want to rush you into the day.

As early afternoon peeked through, and Chan asked if you felt comfortable going out. He'd planned a shopping and lunch date, telling you he was going to change for the occasion.

When he walked out in a casual outfit, he grinned. He revealed it was just the second outfit of too many for his preference, but he wanted the mood to be set for every occasion. Once you got into an outfit you liked, he took you by the hand and walked you down to his car.

The drive was nice, Chan putting on your favorite music to listen to. He even sang along, giving you a small concert. You made him promise he'd sing more for you before the day was over, and he conceded.

When you arrived at the shopping district, he gave you a big grin and asked if there was any places you wanted to go. He had no problem with choosing, but he wanted to make sure any shopping you wanted to do would get done.

The first two stores he took you to were very nice. You were mostly browsing, not often picking out things you liked. He made sure to let you know there was no spending limit, that he'd cover everything you wanted to get. It still felt awkward to spend his money, but he reassured you it didn't matter to him how crazy you went.

Caving to his wishes, you picked out a few things you'd otherwise never grab. They were items that you'd thought about getting but there was no reason to buy them over something else you really wanted.

In the next store, you'd found a rack of necklaces with initials on them. Looking over to Chan, who was browsing some rings, you smiled. You grabbed one of your own initial and one of his, bringing them over to him. He smiled when you approached, looking confused as you wordlessly put the necklace boxes in his hand.

He opened them and it looked like he could have melted into the floor. He smiled wide, his dimples deep into his cheeks as he looked at you in disbelief. "They're perfect," He said.

He was quick to check out, buying them and immediately putting on the necklace with you initial. You followed his lead, unable to contain your smiles when he told you that he'd never take it off. You had no plans on removing his, either.

From the shops, he found a lunch spot nearby he planned a reservation to. He held your hand tight as you walked down the street together, swinging your arms together with a newfound pep in his step.

As you got to the place and were seated, he was still beaming. You laughed and asked him, "What's got you grinning so big?"

"You!" He cheered, "I don't think I've ever been happier spending time with someone, you know. There's no place I'd rather be."

Lunch was pleasant, Chan making sure you enjoyed your meal. He got a double order of your favorite side just to make sure there was enough. Any leftovers he happily boxed up and brought with him for later, wanting to make sure you got all of the food you wanted.

You got back home to wind down after the time out, Chan insisting on going through everything you bought. Any decorations got put up, all of the clothes got tried on again and put into outfits. Most of all, he made sure his brand new necklace was being shown off. You even caught him secretly taking pictures of it.

He then booted up a game to play with you, letting you pick whatever you wanted. He wasn't big on games that required him to be competitive like FPS, but he would try if it's what you asked.

It was a fun way to pass the time, gaming alongside and against your boyfriend. Even better was seeing how colorful his language got when he was frustrated. He embraced his Aussie roots, saying all sorts of obscenities when he died in game.

It had gotten to a point where Chan had to take a break from the game to cool off, and you decided to call it for the day. You cheered him up by taking Berry out for a short walk around the neighborhood, which seemed to put him in a better mood. He was a simple man: his dog could make any day better.

As afternoon turned into evening, he left the apartment and told you to hang tight as he picked up a few things. You hung out with the dog for a while longer, turning on a show in the meantime.

He came back with grocery bags and a smile on his face. "I'm going to get to work in the kitchen, I will be back!"

You gave him a thumbs-up and he scuttled away with a small giggle. He definitely had something planned, you were just there to see it happen. More time on the couch with Berry and watching a show was always accepted.

After a while, you smelled something delicious being cooked. The anticipation of good food had you antsy, but you waited as patiently as you could.

Chan eventually appeared from the kitchen and peaked his head out. "The dress code for this event is formal, if you want. Totally optional."

Before you could say anything, he disappeared back. Shrugging and bored, you went to your room and switched into something black and formal that you had put away for events.

When you walked back out, you were met with a very formal looking Chan. White shirt, tie, vest, and black dress pants. The sleeves on his shirt were rolled up, a touch that didn't go unnoticed. He gave you a smile, reaching his hand out to take yours.

He took you to the dining table, sitting you down. He brought out a vase of flowers, followed by plates of food he'd just been cooking. It was one of your favorite dishes, cooked by hand at home.

If there was a gesture that made you want to get down on one knee, that was it.

Unfortunately, you didn't have a ring on hand. You sufficed by eating every last bit of the food he made. You knew well that he would have plenty more in store for you that week, but this took the cake. A day full of him treating you. What could be better?

Well, you'd just have to find out.

He was too worried to do it on the actual big day itself, but he had something planned for later. A date night that brought you to the place you met. Maybe you didn't have to worry about having a ring on hand.

He had one waiting for you.

[acesofspadess]

my birthday boy

apart of the AG5 universe

spending Lando's birthday at the MTC didn't stop Ace

warnings: heart-melting fluff, PDA, public-speaking (gross)

November 13

The weeks leading up to this day were definitely ones to forget. No one mentioned Brazil in the cosy apartment the papaya duo walked back into a few days later. Brazil was a shit-show, and they didn’t need to bring it all back up. Ace worked relentlessly to keep Lando away from the media, and al the negativity people felt the need to share. Ace didn;t care about what they said about her, this was Lando, her Lando, and she would do just about anything for him.

Monaco wasn’t big, but she did have to travel to the other end of the principality to visit her maman. She hadn’t seen her in weeks and needed some motherly time. She was slightly worried about leaving Lando, but she made sure Max started streaming again to keep him occupied. Lando was an adult, he lived by himself up until a year ago, and even though she knew what he was like before, she had faith he would still be okay… right?

“How’s your perri perri chicken from March pal?”

Wrong. She was glad she was watching the stream. She listened to him try and justify not using food before the best use date and she just shook her head. Why did she even let him keep that?

The next morning, she and her maman went grocery shopping for their house and when she got home and Lando saw her with bags he knew he was in trouble. 

“It is not a recommendation!” 

They hadn’t been home in three weeks, it was mildly understandable, but March? That was entirely Lando’s doing and she knew if he liked it, it would stay there. After a few more days of relaxing, streaming, and making Lando eat properly, they had to fly to the MTC. 

Now Ace loved birthdays, even if Lando didn;t want to celebrate, Ace would make him. So she made a few arrangements and after all the seriousness of the day had passed,and Ace and Lando were getting ready to 'leave’ and walking down the boulevard, a chorus of ‘happy birthday’ was being sung and Lando flipped his head to Aces who already had her phone up. 

He let go of her hand to hide his very smiley face as he walked a little ahead of her. The cake had a picture of his best moments over the top of it and a 2 and 5 candle on the top middle. “Alright make a wish.” Ace called from behind her phone. He closed his eyes and paused before blowing out the candle, making everyone applaud and cheer.

“You’ll hate me for this but…” she said and Lando tried to cover her mouth but she got her words out quickly,” …you have to make a speech.” Ace egged on and he side eyed her making those who saw him laugh. “If I'm being forced to…” He looked at her again. “I just want to say thank you for an incredible year, there've been some ups and downs but we’ve gotten through them and I wouldn’t want to do it with any other people by my side. Thank you all and here's to many more papaya birthdays.” He said with hands pressed together and bowing and thanking everyone around him.

He turned to Ace and hugged her waist tightly, making her almost drop her phone. “I love you so much, baby,” he whispered against her lips.

“I love you too, mon cœur,” she giggled, kissing him softly.

“Come on,” she said, tugging his hand, making him look confused. “You didn’t think this was it, did you?”

He chuckled before shaking his head. “How could I ever?”

Ace’s eyes sparkled mischievously as she led him out of the MTC. The gleam of polished floors reflected the overhead lights, and the soft hum of engineers wrapping up their day added to the atmosphere. Lando walked in step with her, fingers intertwined, his curiosity piqued.

“Where are we going?” Lando’s voice had that familiar playful lilt that always made her smile.

“You’ll see,” she replied, glancing back with a grin.

The crisp autumn air greeted them as they stepped outside. Ace glanced at the silver sky slowly turning shades of lavender and gold as the sun set behind the rolling fields.

“Baby, what—” he began, but she just squeezed his hand and guided him towards the passenger side.

“Trust me,” she said, opening the door for him. Lando slid into the seat with a mixture of excitement and puzzlement.

Once they were both settled, Ace revved the engine, the sound of power humming beneath them as they took off down the winding country roads. Lando watched the scenery blur by, the anticipation building in his chest.

“Okay, you’ve got to give me a hint,” he finally said, turning to look at her.

“Nope,” she said, popping the “p”. “You’re just going to have to be patient, Mr. Norris.”

“Patience isn’t exactly my strong suit,” he joked, letting out a playful sigh.

“I know,” Ace teased, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. “But it’ll be worth it, I promise.”

“If you say so,” he said, pretending to pout. Ace laughed, reaching over to give his hand a quick squeeze.

After a few more minutes of playful banter and teasing guesses, Ace pulled into a small, cosy restaurant nestled at the edge of town. The warm glow from the windows and the scent of freshly baked bread filled the air as they stepped inside.

“Happy birthday,” she whispered as the host guided them to a table by the window, candles flickering gently.

Lando’s eyes softened. “This is perfect,” he said, reaching for her hand across the table.

“You deserve a night that’s all about you,” Ace said, her voice warm. “No engines, no track, just us.”

“And good food,” Lando added with a wink.

Their meals arrived, and soon enough, laughter and stories filled the space between them. Ace recounted a memory from one of their first races together.

“And then you said, ‘It’s just a little rain, Ace!’” she mimicked his voice, eyes bright with amusement.

Lando groaned, laughing. “I remember! I thought you were going to throw your helmet at me.”

“I almost did,” she said, leaning forward, her smile softening as she looked at him. “But you’re worth a little chaos.”

“A little?” Lando raised his eyebrows. “Try a lot. You’re competitive, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” Ace said, narrowing her eyes playfully. “And don’t you forget it.”

They ate slowly, savouring each dish. Lando took a bite of his dessert, eyes lighting up. “This is so good,” he said, gesturing with his spoon. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“Only the best for you,” Ace replied, her voice a tender melody.

“You spoil me,” he said, pretending to scold her.

“Not nearly enough,” she countered, smirking.

After dinner, they made their way back to their shared apartment. The soft light of the living room lamps illuminated the space, casting a cozy glow over the photos and mementos that marked their journey together. Lando slipped off his shoes, stretching out with a contented sigh. Before he could say anything, Ace stood in front of him, holding a small, wrapped box.

“What’s this?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Open it,” she encouraged, crossing her arms and watching his expression closely.

Lando tore at the paper, revealing a set of sleek keys with a familiar horse- a Ferrari key. His mouth dropped open, and he looked up at Ace, disbelief mingling with sheer joy.

“No way,” he breathed. “Ace, you didn’t—”

“I did,” she said highly pitched in excitment. “I know how much you’ve been dreaming about it. Consider it a thank-you for every smile, every kiss, every moment.”

Lando surged forward, merging his lips with her own. “You’re incredible,” he whispered into her hair, voice thick with emotion. “This is... more than I could ever ask for.”

“You deserve it,” she said softly, brushing her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. They stayed like that for a moment, the quiet of their home holding the weight of their love.

“I can’t wait to go home now. Drive around for hours.” Lando finally said, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Of course you can’t,” Ace said, laughter bubbling up. “We’ll make a whole day of it.”

“Deal,” Lando said, his voice softening. “But first, can we just stay like this a little longer?”

“For as long as you want,” she replied, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Best birthday ever,” Lando murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple, as their world, for tonight, felt beautifully complete.

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acegiovanelli my birthday boy

view comments

landonorris love you baby ❤️... not to sure i love all these photos😐

acegiovanelli but they're my favourite

landonorris these are the best photos in the world ❤️

fan4 i love them so much 😭

fan7 happy birthday lando!

carlossainz55 happy birthday cabrón!

maxverstappen1 Happy birthday mate!

fan8 the world is healing

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (2)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part two | next part >>>

"He can't be serious."

You sigh and watch the wine in your glass slosh around, creating beautiful patterns along the rim of your glass, "unfortunately, I think he is."

Your cousin has on an expression you can't quite place, in-between disgust and pure confusion. He's at the microwave, busy heating up some popcorn. Having adamantly asked you to sit on his couch while taking care of the snacks, you thus decided to watch Sakura play with her legos along the carpet, keeping a watchful eye in case one might end up in her mouth.

"He's only marrying her for the money," is what he concludes after a small pause.

You snort into your glass, take a sip of it and allow the bitterness to coat your tongue, "I wish that were true."

"How would you know that?"

" 'Tsumu, is it written stupid on my forehead?" your own wrinkles in distaste, "I see the way he looks at her. He's--" you choke on your words then, the knot in your throat growing tenfold, "--he's in love with her."

"Who is in love, mum?"

"No one at all," you're quick to answer upon noticing Sakura has been listening in. She normally doesn't, a kid that enjoys staring off into space and conjuring make-believe stories, where there's magic and only happy endings. You try and force a smile onto your face, "how's the house construction for Princess Peach going?"

Your daughter lets out a laugh as she presents to you a square that looks nothing like a house. Still, you coo at it, "so pretty! I bet princess peach would love it."

Your conversation with Atsumu has to wait until Sakura is tucked away in her uncle's bedroom and has listened to three stories about princesses, before you manage to join him back onto the couch where he's busy watching a rerun of volleyball matches.

You don't get to see him much now, courtesy of the fact that he's a national athlete and has been booked at the big games representing Japan. You couldn't be prouder, and yet his permanent absence does still leave a big hole in your heart whenever he flies over a thousand miles. Atsumu had been your rock since you guys were kids, defending you on the school playground and dragging you around to parties and birthdays without your consent. He'd taken care of you as a big brother would and he still is. You don't know how to repay this kind of kindness.

You're just thankful that he has one week off so that you can rant and ramble about the unfairness of the world. At least with Atsumu here, it appeases the pain, if just a little.

"Have you signed the papers yet?" he asks, handing you the bowl of popcorn.

You grab a handful, popping onto of them into your mouth as you answer, "not yet."

"You should ask him for alimony, at least."

"I'm not sure I'd win that, 'Tsumu."

"Still," his nose wrinkles in distaste, "this feels unfair. And why are you the one taking care of Sakura on your own? And I don't mean the parenting part. What about the finances? Why can't he contribute?"

"Because he's a dick and he thinks he can get away with it," you're glad that the tv is providing a welcome distraction, for you can't bear to look into Atsumu's eyes, "I'm just going to sign it and be done with it. I don't want Sakura to suffer any longer. It's not fair on her, she barely sees him."

"Well maybe it's time you find someone else too, y/n."

Your thoughts suddenly flash to Kuroo's beautiful smile and you have to physically force yourself to keep from grinning. You can feel the heat from the back of your neck and come up with the excuse that it's still too early and that Sakura wouldn't like her world shattering just for your happiness.

But it seems that Atsumu knows you better than that, for he asks, "are you blushing?"

"Wha--" Panic skitters through you, "no. No, why would I blush?"

His eyebrows raise, "you’ve met someone then?"

"N--No. Not at all. It's--" you realize you're blundering when his smile widens slightly, "it's not like that."

"So who's the lucky guy?"

"Atsumu."

"Y/N," his eyes glisten with playfulness and he nudges your shoulder, "c'mon. Tell me!"

You let out another breath and mumble, "He’'s not someone I met. He's...Just someone I know."

"And how do you know him?"

"He's Sakura's PE coach."

Atsumu lets out a whistle, "well that--" he shakes his head, "--that's not what I imagined at all."

"Shut up."

"So you like him?"

"It's not--It's really not like that. I--" you try and rack your brain for anything to say because this is really embarrassing. Who has a crush at the age of twenty-nine? Practically all of your friends are already married and have kids, talk about husband problems and how they wish for their youth back. And you? Here you are, thinking you might have a crush. You're no better than a middle school girl.

Which is why you say, "I don't even know him."

"You just think he's cute?"

"Precisely. But there are a lot of cute guys. It doesn't mean anything."

“Right,” Atsumu lets out a breath before he leans back into the couch, “but you know what I think?”

You hum in response.

“I think you should get laid—“

You almost spit out your wine in shock, gape at him in horror, “Atsumu!”

Again, your brain goes into overdrive at the thought of Kuroo and his sweaty chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the way he just towers over your small frame…

NO! You slam onto your mental brakes and shake your head, “you’re disgusting.” You spit out.

“I’m telling the truth princess. I really believe in the power of s—“

“Don’t—“ you cut him off with a raised palm, “don’t even say it.”

“So tell me,” Atsumu proceeds to wriggle his brows suggestively which makes it even harder to stop the blush igniting along your face, “this guy, how handsome is he? Must be pretty good-looking for you to be blushing like that.”

“Shut up ‘Tsumu, it’s not like that at all. Just stop. He's like--half of my age."

“Alright alright,” he laughs his deep-bellied laughter and wraps an arm around you in a gentle, comforting hug, “but if ever you do get lais with him, you gotta tell me.”

“Mum, what does ‘getting laid’ mean?”

“Oh!” Your head snaps to the doorway only to see your daughter all sleepy-eyed and clutching a spare pillow.

“Sakura!” You scramble to over, casting your cousin a scowl as you do, “c’mon, sweetie. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You hear Atsumu’s laughter follow you all the way to the bedroom.

————

It’s weird when Sakura isn’t around.

It’s almost like you’ve lost your purpose. But then again, you should be taking advantage of this right? That’s what everyone keeps telling you.

But alas, something in you cannot just let yourself rest for fear that your thoughts may go into a black hole of what ifs and images of Sakura with your ex-husband’s wife —well, almost ex-husband— and thus decide to take on a last-minute order.

It’s a simple enough request— a birthday cake. While you usually plan events from A to Z, this order merely requested a cake of any kind. So that’s how you spend your Saturday morning — creating a dough and sugar decorations that would fit into the theme of “Halloween”, as per what your client has asked.

You drive up to the pin location around four in the afternoon, strolling through the streets until the google maps signals you that you’ve arrived to your destination. Turning off the ignition at the said house — a beautiful Victorian home adorned with columns twice your height and size — you open your door only to come face to face with a familiar pair of golden eyes.

“Coach?”

“Kosuke-san?”

You both stare. And stare.

It’s shock that comes first. Before realization slaps you in the face, “oh!” You quickly bow in hopes that you haven’t been staring too long, “good afternoon, Coach. What—What brings you here?”

"Kosuke-san," he bows and looks just as surprised as you are, before he notices the way you're struggling to juggle to cake in your arms, "here, let me help you."

Without hesitation, he opens the door a bit wider and closes the gap between you, lifting the box from your arms, "jeez how heavy is this thing?"

You let out a small laugh, "it's all the icing sugar."

"Come in," he gestures with his chin for you to follow and as you step into the threshold he continues, "so when you said you were an event planner--I didn't expect you to be a cake designer too."

"It's an extra service I provide," you shrug, "I'm a patissier by career. Event planning is just something that keeps the cash flowing."

Kuroo pauses in mid-step then, "you're a patissier?"

"Yeah. Well, I was," you chuckle, "but anyway, it's been a while since I've baked now. So I hope it's just as good as you expect it to be."

Kuroo opens his mouth only to be cut off by a horde of boys stumbling into what appears to be the kitchen area. Now that you have a better look, it's all white marble and golden taps and golden handles on every piece of furniture to match. In any case, this house screams of money and for a minute, you feel a bit small and insignificant in your stained-flour blouse, the splotches of paint across your faded out jeans, courtesy of Sakura's art skills.

"You must be y/n!" one of the boys detaches himself. His orange hair glistens in the sun streaming through the window and he's a bit shorter than Kuroo. He beams at you and you can't help but be reminded of a puppy, "thanks for taking my order on such a short notice!"

"No worries at all. You must be...Hinata?"

"Yes!" he shakes your hand, "so I see you've met Kuroo! He's one of my best mates! We used to play against each other back in high school."

"Really now?" you quirk a brow in Kuroo's direction, watching the muscles of his arms ripple as he places the cake in an orderly manner inside the fridge. His voice is muffled when he replies, "yeah, he's the midget that made us jump for our lives. I hated him."

"You're just sour because you lost that one time," Hinata pouts, "but anyway, this is the rest of the ex-team!"

And so that's how you get a round of names that you will probably forget in five minutes and Kuroo, having seen the confusion in your eyes, can't help but laugh to himself because the sight is somewhat adorable. And he knows he shouldn't find it, he knows you're off limits because first, you're a mom from the school and two, you're married and have a kid. It's definitely not at all appropriate for his eyes to be roaming over your curves or to linger over the light glittering in your eyes.

Get a hold of yourself, he mentally whacks the back of his head.

“Where’s the little munchkin?” Kuroo asks you once you’re all settled after having been wheedled by Hinata to stay (“please please please you did such a great job on the cake” is what he’d begged). You’re now perched onto a plush lounge chair, a mixture of juice and vodka in your hand and watching the nth match of pingpong between someone whose name you forget and the other whose name sounds like Daichi. Though yoj might be wrong.

You’re glad for Kuroo’s presence, for even if he is a stranger, he still feels familiar to you right now in this setting.

“Sakura’s with her father today,” you explain with a slight smile in hopes it doesn’t give any of that bitterness away.

Kuroo opens his mouth like he wants so say something — anything— but you beat him to it, “we’re not together. Not anymore.”

His eyes widen with realization and you see it, the way he’s putting all the puzzle pieces together, “I’m sorry to hear,” is what he finally musters.

“Nothing be to be sorry about.”

“So… the name Kosuke…”

“Is my maiden name,” you reply, “I’ve never changed names. Looking back, I think I’ve done the right thing.”

Kuroo isn’t sure whether he should be mad for you or hurt in your place. After all, who in their right mind would leave their wife and their toddler daughter?

He deals with little kids every day, so he knows exactly what they’re like on a daily basis, and it’s not easy.

“I’m sorry,” it seems that’s the only thing he knows how to say.

“Really,” you laugh at him, “how can you be sorry when it’s not even your fault?”

Kuroo shrugs and grins bashfully because yes, it’s true and he still doesn’t know what to say. So he decides to ask, “And Sakura… how is she?”

“She doesn’t realize it. She’s too young,” your smile fades slightly, “in a way, I hope that’s a good sign.”

His heart clenches at the thought of you raising this kid alone. He can’t even imagine it. It makes sympathy swim inside his chest like an ache he can’t quite ignore. The look on your face suggests that you’ve been let down and he has the sudden impulse to tell you that everything will be alright, will be okay.

But he can’t do that. You’ll think of him as a creep. So he bites his tongue and look away instead, at the war of pingpong ongoing between his two friends. In a way, he’s glad for the distraction as he sips on his beer.

“And you?” Your voice piping up surprises him. His eyes flit back to your face. You continue, “married? Engaged?”

Kuroo’s throat bobs as he chuckles, “no. None of that.”

“How come?” You take a sip of your cocktail, “you don’t seem like the type to wound up alone with a hundred cats.”

“No no,” he can’t help but laugh because one, you’re hella attractive to him; tiny and frail and looking like he can fit you in a box no problem and two; you’re actually entertaining to be around. Something that he’s found lacking in his previous dates, “I just didn’t find anyone special yet.”

“Well there's no rush,” you lift your cocktail as you speak, “and anyway, you’re still young. You should enjoy it while you can.”

“Young?” Kuroo’s face breaks into a grin as his golden orbs glimmer down at you, amused, “how old do you think I am?”

"Uhm--I don't know. Early twenties?"

"I'm twenty-five," he gives you a look, "how old are you?"

"Twenty-eight. Going on twenty-nine."

"You look like you've just gotten out of college though," Kuroo's smirk is visible even behind his beer as he chugs down most of his drink, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you and Sakura were sisters."

"Not even," you retort, "And excuse me, but you look younger than twenty-five."

"I make up for it in height," he peers down at you, "but I suppose you wouldn't understand that considering--"

Your arm whacks at his shoulder before you know it. A playful gesture surely, but one that you don't really use on your daughter's teachers. Let alone ones that have bulging muscles and a figure to die for. You stare at your hand for a long minute, your brain going blank, before your eyes whip up to his and horror seeps into your gaze.

"Oh my god!" you screech and recoil like he's the one that had slapped you, "I'm so sorry, I--It's just--automatic you know, my cousin--he's got the same humor and--well I--I'm really sorry--"

The guffaw that leaves Kuroo's mouth is so loud that it causes heads to turn, even the ones invested in the ping pong game. He bends over while holding his stomach and the initial panic that you have wears off upon seeing him look so joyously happy. You can't help but chuckle along.

"What?" you say when he's regained most of his breath, "what's so funny?"

"You are," he grins, before it turns mischievous, "senpai."

"Hey--now that's going a bit too far!"

You're not quite sure what time you get home that night. But you do know that you've gone to sleep with a smile on your face.

————

"Kuroo sensei! He stole my ball!"

A typical Monday morning where Kuroo is busy surveilling the fifth graders as they decided to play basketball during their free time. He's not one to deny such requests, actually enjoys watching them play and seeing them grow day by day, developing their techniques. But to say that he's a bit in the clouds would be an understatement.

"Kuroo sensei!"

He finally snaps back to reality. Blinks down at the tiny boy with the biggest scowl he's ever seen yet, "yes I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

"He stole my ball!" the young boy points at one of the chubby classmates who seems quite content in playing by himself, "and now he's saying that it was his!"

Kuroo can't help but raise a brow. He's taught that class before, knows exactly that the chubby little kid doesn't have that many friends, including the boy standing before him.

"I don't think he stole your ball."

It's a bold statement, but from the way the tiny student squirms and averts his gaze, Kuroo believes he is right, "but--but he did! He really did steal my ball!"

"I have an idea," Kuroo bends down to his height, not able to restrain the grin along his face at the pout forming on the student's lips, "why don't you go and play with him? He seems a bit lonely."

"Yeah that's because he never talks to anyone in class."

"Then why don't you be the first? hm?" he nudges the boy's shoulder, "show your class a good example. Come on."

With a bit more reassurance, the said student goes over and Kuroo watches fondly as the two exchange awkward greetings before the chubby student nods his head, glancing at his PE coach like he'd just dropped a bomb.

Five minutes later, they're playing together like best friends.

And Kuroo goes back to daydreaming.

He's not usually like this. So out of it, so inside his own head that he can't see the outside world. But ever since that party he's been wondering when's the next time he'd get to see you, to talk to you. Not just as Sakura's mum but as someone, maybe a friend. He's addicted to the way your eyes curve up before your lips are even drawn into a smile, like you're sharing a special secret with him before the world gets a flash of blinding white teeth. He enjoys watching you move about because you're just so tiny, holding cups with two hands and always having to tiptoe about to find stuff. But most of all, that conversation with you had him dreaming of more. He wants to know you, that initial curiosity turning to what he'd define as stupid infatuation.

Yes, Kuroo Tetsurou has a crush, and he's not quite sure how to feel about it.

"--Earth to Kuroo?"

He blinks. In front of him stands his colleague and friend Bokuto. Having faced each other off countlessly during their high school days, it was a miracle and lovely surprise to see him at the new year induction. Since then, they’d been a constant pair inside the school walls and creating assignments, organizing and coordinating events had never been so fun.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and rubs a hand over his face.

“You look like death, mate,” Bokuto leans on the fencing that separates the courts from the building, “why the long face?”

“Haven’t slept well,” Kuroo says, but he knows he’s not convincing when Bokuto’s eyebrows raise in question.

“You? Firm believer of 10hrs of sleep every day?” His friend shakes his head, “no way. Tell me what happened. What’s got you looking so dazed?”

“It’s noth—“ he halts. Maybe he can find some advice? Bokuto’s known for being a badass romantic after all. Maybe he can have something wise to say.

Like tell Kuroo you’re way out of his league and— what the hell is he even thinking, dating someone’s mom? Someone older than him, at that?

The words burst out of his mouth without warning:

“I think I like someone.”

Bokuto merely blinks. His face lights up, “well that explains it. Who?”

Kuroo’s arm swings to the back to scratch his neck, “it’s… one of the student’s mom’s.”

The last few words are said in a mumble, causing Bokuto to lean into his friend with a wide-eyed gaze, surprise flitting across his face when he realizes what Kuroo has just said.

“No,” the grey-haired man’s mouth turns into an “o” as he stares his friend down, “no way. Who?”

“I don’t think you know her. Sakura Kosuke?” Kuroo prompts.

“Sakura Kosuke…” Bokuto shakes his head in thought, “haven’t heard of that one. But—-Kuroo! I thought older women weren’t your style!”

“She’s not that old,” Kuroo’s face flames, “only by three years.”

"Who would've thought," Bokuto breathes out with a chuckle when a thought suddenly occurs to him, "wait-- it's not the chick who came by with the cake last weekend?"

Kuroo nods and awkwardly clears his throat, "yeah, the very same."

"Ha! If only I knew! I would've done my best to set you up!"

"It's not funny!"

But now that Bokuto has some leverage of information, he's definitely not going to let it go and Kuroo kind of regrets spilling the beans to him, of all people. That, and the probably fact that he’ll be spreading this news like wildfire across their friend group.

Thankfully, Kuroo’s schedule makes it that it’s hard to think about anything but work since midterm season is approaching for his other primary school colleagues. There’s after-school shows and events for every single activity and since he’s being asked to help for every single thing (because he’s the preschool teacher and, yeah! How come you don’t have any events planned for your preschoolers?!). Which means that he doesn’t have actual time to think about you, not even when he’s finally home and mustering up enough strength to brush his teeth, take a shower and dump himself in bed.

He does, however, collide head-first into you one week day as you’re hurrying out of the principal’s office, looking flustered and red-faced.

“Kosuke-san,” he takes a longing glance your rosy cheeks and felt his hand tingle with want. Just to see if it’s as soft as he imagines it to be? “You okay?”

“Kuroo sensei,” you run a hand through your locks and causing your hair to get even more disheveled, “hi, sorry— how are you? It’s been a while.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You’re looking a bit more greenish now that he sees you in the light.

“Yes I—“ your hands flutter up before you in an attempt to find an explanation, “—just came back from a meeting with Sakura’s teacher.”

“Oh?” Kuroo frowns, “what—nothing bad, I hope?”

“It’s just—well,” you try to chuckle but it comes out like a whimper, “apparently she got into a fight with one of the other girls in her class. Got a few injuries herself so…”

Your eyes are wet and it seems you’re half a second away from a breakdown. So it’s only natural for Kuroo to take a few steps closer to you before he whispers a soft, “hey hey, you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you take a shaky breath, “it’s just been a long, hard morning.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo bites onto his lower lip, not sure what to do to make things better as he watches your chest move up and down in staggered breaths.

That’s when an idea hits him. He makes a grab for the back of your elbow and the smallness, the thinness of your limb takes him be surprise as he steers you out of the corridor.

And when your wide eyes flutter up to his, he quickly says something along the lines of, “I know a place. It’ll make you feel better.”

That’s how he finds himself dragging you to the nearby coffee place he always frequents— called Espresso Block— a small vintage bakery run by none other than his good friend Osamu Miya, as part of his expansion branch from his onigiri restaurants.

"Y/N!" Osamu greets as soon as he spots your face trailing behind Kuroo's tall figure. He pushes the raven-haired man aside with impatience before sauntering over and wrapping you up in a bear hug.

"Osamu," you breathe in the scent of baked croissants lingering on his uniform, "you're choking me."

"Oh--sorry," he drops you and grins sheepishly, that is before he registers that you're together with one of his friends, causing his eyes to narrow, "how do you two know each other?"

"Kosuke-san is Sakura's mother and she was having a bad day," Kuroo explains before he turns to you, "how do you know him?"

Did you imagine the five-second frostiness that came from his tone? Maybe not, as you reply, "he's my cousin. We grew up together. I taught him how to play volleyball back in primary school."

Kuroo's relief is instant. Thank god, it's not a close friend, nor is it a romantic partner candidate. His mood brightens instantly and without further ado he proceeds to lead you towards a table in the back.

He doesn’t fail to ignore the way Osamu’s eyes are following him all the way back to his table as he carries the two drinks — strawberry latte for him and a black coffee for you — and Kuroo can just hope that his dear friend can keep his distance until you've gone.

Becayse he's quite certain he will be subject to interrogation. Especially if you're that close to Osamu.

Placing the tray on the table, he takes out the mug and pushes it into your hands before finding his seat opposite you. You grab the cup between your two palms and take a deep breath as Kuroo sips on his latte.

The sweetness of the strawberry never disappoints. It’s refreshing and brings a smile to his lips. Osamu sure knows his desserts.

“I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," you seem to have composed yourself from earlier. You take a small sip of your coffee and Kuroo watches in amusement as you shudder.

"Do you want some milk with that?" he can't help but ask.

You nod and look shameful, and Kuroo's heart squeezes with sympathy. Your eyes are tinged with aprons of blue and there are tired lines lining your eyes and the corners of your mouth. It's only when he comes back -- from having gotten some steamed milk from Osamu and a suggestive wink to match -- you dip your head into a nod and mumble out a soft 'thanks', eyes glued to the way the dark brown turned into a creamy latte.

"You could've asked me for a latte," Kuroo smiled to show that he didn't mind at all. But you winced.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't say sorry," he softened, "just--next time, you can tell me what you want, Kosuke-san. I'm not here to bite you...unless you want me to."

Your eyes flit up to his in surprise and Kuroo pinks at his words. They'd just slipped out on their own. It's not like he'd wanted to sound flirty when you're looking all shaky and worse for wear. He quickly clear his throat and tries to change the subject, "how are Sakura's injuries?"

"She's fine, got herself a bruised lip."

His eyebrows raise in surprise, "woah, that's still something."

"Yeah," you mutter and take another sip. And then another, "I hope this doesn't become a habit."

"I've taught Sakura since the start of this semester," Kuroo leans forward, elbows propped onto the table, "and I can tell you--she's anything but violent."

"I really hope you're right about this. I can't have her running around beating up everyone."

Kuroo stifled a small laugh, "to be honest, I think it's good she knows how to defend herself."

You shoot him a look and he can't help but laugh. And it's so contagious, the way it booms out of him like a melody, that you cannot restrain yourself from joining in.

"You're right," you say in-between chuckles.

"Maybe she got her mom's feisty spirit," Kuroo adds.

"No way. I was as silent as a mouse," you retort, "if she got anything like that, it's probably from her father's--"

You halt in mid-conversation, wanting to bite down your tongue for even mentioning him and quickly flash Kuroo a bashful smile in hopes he'll just brush it off, "sorry, let's not talk about him--"

"Kosuke-san, you really have to stop saying sorry all the time," Kuroo says with a grin, "it's not healthy."

"I know, I'm--" you catch yourself and he bursts out laughing once more at your face, "don't say it! No matter what!" he chides.

"Stop--" but you're grinning from ear to ear, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, "--Kuroo sensei, I hope you're not as playful with your students or they'd never learn anything from you."

"Course not," he winks, "I keep that solely for the pretty ladies."

His suggestive tone makes you blush despite it all and you look down at your coffee with the blush blazing so hard across your cheeks you swear everyone can see its colour from afar.

"I don't know how it is at home though," Kuroo's voice brings you out of your small bubble of warmth, "it must be tough handling Sakura all alone. Do you ever take a break?"

"Well, she goes to see her dad ever two weeks. But other than that, she's always with me unless my parents decide to come over. Which isn't as often as I would like."

"Why's that?"

"They live in the countryside and have a farm. It's hard for them to take days off, and I don't blame them not wanting to be around," your voice lowers to a mutter at the last few words, "especially after what happened with the marriage and all..."

"Marriages fail every time," Kuroo says gently then, "that too, isn't your fault."

"I wish my parents believed that," you let out a small laugh, "but they're right. We were too young to get married."

"But you have Sakura right? Isn't she worth it?"

His eyes, golden flecked and filled with so much hope and softness, meet yours from across the table. You suddenly feel a bit hot in your seat, wanting to squirm as you quickly look away from Kuroo's gaze because dear god, it's almost like he's ripping away, ripping apart every single layer of self-protection and preservation and reading you out like an open book.

"You're right," you clear your throat upon realizing he'd still been waiting for your response, "she is worth every single second. I wouldn't change anything about what happened. I just--I wish my parents could see it that way too."

"I think you spend a little too much time stressing about things you can't control," Kuroo takes another sip of his latte, "how about you learn to let go a bit? Maybe take the day off? Go hiking?"

"With Sakura?" you shake your head, "impossible, I--"

"Surely you have someone that can take care of her while you're gone," he tilts his head, jaw resting into one of his hands and making him appear all the more handsome.

Your thoughts flash to Atsumu. He's right, you could technically take a day off by dropping Sakura with the blonde. But she's not his responsibility and Atsumu has other priorities in his life rather than hang out with his niece. But Kuroo's persistence is strong and he makes you -- practically orders you -- to text him when he connects the dots that you two are also family.

"That guy can learn a thing or two about being responsible anyway," grins Kuroo, "so I'm sure he won't mind."

————

How did you end up here?

That's the question you keep asking yourself -- even when you're busy picking out your clothes only to realize that you barely have anything that's worth 'party material', even when you're attempting to do your makeup even though it's been almost three (or four?) years since you've tried to look your best because Sakura's wellbeing always came first.

Even when you're strapping up your black ankle boots, the question is getting drilled into your brain like a broken mixtape as you wonder whether this is a good idea after all.

"Go," Atsumu is firm when you call him for the nth time. It's five minutes until Kuroo's supposed to pick you up and feeling the pressure on your shoulders, you quickly decide to call your cousin in an emergency, "you have to do it, y/n. Stop making this all about Sakura. You need to be happy too."

"I am happy," was what you'd mumbled out in the phone receiver. You don't realize how tightly you're gripping the phone, so tight that your knuckles have turned white.

"I know you are, but you'll be happier if you live for yourself. At least for one night," Atsumu responds, "and Sakura's safe with me. And if ever there's an issue I'll call Osamu first to--"

"What?! No! No you call me first, okay?"

"Y/n please just relax. It's supposed to be a fun night."

You slump against the wall in defeat, "I don't even know why I'm doing this," you mumble mostly to yourself, though you're certain he can hear it too, "there's no point trying to prove that I'm content with my life. There are things that are going to leave me unsatisfied. I'm--I was fine with that, really."

"Are you though?" your cousin's voice is accusatory this time, "you're ready to live just for Sakura? Making her happy will make you happy too? Is this how it's supposed to work?"

"Technically yes, I'm her mother--"

"--And you've been left behind!"

The words are like a slap. You bite down onto your lower lip.

It draws blood.

You hiss, sucking on the skin as the metallic taste hits your tongue.

In truth, Atsumu has a point. You can't just live to make Sakura happy because that will ultimately destroy you. Not because she's not the only thing you need in your life. But because despite having your little girl being the center of your world, despite being able to sustain her with your career, you still feel like it's just yesterday when Aoi had upped and left you. His excuses, as pathetic as they had been, were arrows shooting straight into your heart. He left you crying into your pillow that night, hovering over your figure until you'd told him to 'get lost or I'll call the cops on you' before curling up on the small couch that you'd gotten rid of once he'd moved out for good.

So much pain. So much pain and haunted nights and obstacles that had come your way. That, along with caring for Sakura, had been a big hurdle. You remembered the long mornings, how hard it had been to drag yourself out of bed for the first few days. Atsumu had volunteered to stay with you then, giving you all the support you needed until you'd had enough strength to get back on your feet.

So he knew exactly what you'd gone through. Had seen it all first-hand. He wasn't kidding when he said you really needed to get laid. Somehow, he seems to have a valid point.

But it's been so long since you've left the dating scene that the thought of it makes you want to vomit.

"I'm sorry y/n, that wasn't cool." Atsumu's voice flows through the receiver like a lullaby and you take a deep, staggering breath, "I just--I know how hard it's been pulling your weight and caring for Sakura. It practically consumed your entire life. It's about time you get that motherfucker back for screwing things up--"

"Language," you tsk at him.

"You know what I mean," he replies impatiently, "So go out there, have fun. Get smashed. And at least do something to make you happy for a change. Alright?"

"Yeah okay," you mumble.

"And plus, you're with a bunch of guys that I know. They're cool. They'll keep an eye on you."

"Thanks mom."

"Anytime hun."

You can't help but giggle before you hear a car pulling up outside, "alright. I think my ride's here."

"Yeah, try to get laid okay--"

"Atsumu!" your cheeks flame, "I hope you're not saying all this in front of Sakura!"

A burst of laughter echoes from the receiver, "don't worry, miss Sakura is asleep. Have fun y/n! Take pictures!"

The drive there is less awkward than you'd imagined it to be, despite the fact that Kuroo's get-up does make your mouth salivate. And not just you. You realize a bunch of girls have him on their radar, from the stolen glances driven his way as you follow his broad back out of the parking and into the small terrace-looking entrance flanked by colored glowing palm trees.

"I haven't been in a club for like four years," you confess to him as you trudge into the queue. The air smells like cigarette and smoke. And something else. Something dangerous. It makes you giddy, you realize.

"Four years?" his eyes grow round as he looks down at you, "you have drunk before right? To the brink of passing out?"

"Like...maybe four years ago?"

His mouth opens, then closes. He shakes his head, a smile curving at the edges of his lips, "remind me not to drown you with tequila."

"I'll try my best."

You meet the rest of the gang upon stumbling into the club. It's dark and pulsating with music, with two dance floors separated by the DJ stationed on a platform right in the middle. Lights are bouncing off the space like crazy and all around you are moving bodies that writh and mold together until you're not sure where one ends and the other begins.

“Y/N! You’re here!” A drunk Hinata hooks an arm around your shoulder before steering you towards the bar, “you’re just in time! We were going for a round of lambos.”

“Lambos?” You balk and meet Kuroo’s eye, “you mean— Lamborgini’s?”

“Hell yeah!” Another one of the guys chimes in. It’s almost comical, the way they’re all stumbling against each other as you move like a congregation until you’re straight up in front of the barman.

“Ten Lambo’s please!” Hinata slams his card ontot he counter.

It brings back a wave of nostalgia, seeing the line of glasses and the way the bartender drops the alcohol in like he can do it with his eyes closed. You’re jostled and pressed against warm chests and shoulders, surrounded from all sides and yet, you feel safe with them all. That is, until you feel a soft brush against your elbow.

You turn to see Kuroo’s warm golden orbs.

“All okay?” He mouths to you.

You nod and give him a smile in return, and the grin that he cracks makes a troop of butterflies swoop into your stomach.

You look away just as Hinata thrusts a glass into your hands, “come y/n! This one’s on me!”

One shot becomes two. And two become three. Soon enough you find yourself on the dance floor and moving to the beat with one of the girls from the group— Yachi?— while the guys are trying to pay each other back their shots. The music vibrates through the floor up your body and flood your veins so that you get lost in it, ecstasy and the thrill of just being alive finally gushing through your brain, fogged up and amplified by the alcohol in your bloodstream.

It’s amazing. You feel free. Like nothing can stop you.

It’s honestly the best you’ve felt in a while.

After a while, you and Yachi decide to take a well-deserved break, stumbling over to the clustered seating space filled with red cushions as the boys scatter to find more alcohol. At this point you’re surprised that they’re still moving around and conscious, considering the amount they’ve drunk.

One of the boys— the one with the kind smile called Daichi— offers to get you guys some water as you take a seat, allowing your tired legs to take a break.

“I’m going to fine Hinata!” Yachi says into your ear and you nod before ushering her out of your way. There’s something between those two, a kind of tension that will develop into something more if they just allow it.

But you’re not one to meddle, not when your own love life’s a mess.

That’s when you notice.

It’s the lingering stare out of the corner of your peripheral that makes you turn your head.

Then you see him.

A tall, lanky man. He’s seated right opposite you, a drink in his hand and taking a swig. But there’s no mistake, for when his eyes meet yours across the room you can only jolt in shock.

You look away with embarrassment and disgust. Heat spreads to the back of your neck and goosebumps run up your arms. Suddenly, it’s a little too cold in this hot, sweaty club.

Why is he looking at you like that?

There’s no mistaking the intention. You risk one more glance and confirm that indeed, there’s a darkness in his eyes; the kind of a predator.

The kind that wants to strip you bare.

It’s unsetttling, unnerving.

Disgusting.

You don’t even hesitate. It’s like instinct for you jump off your seat with the only purpose to find Kuroo. But to your terror, the man starts to follow you. And soon enough it becomes a game of catch: of cat and mouse. You almost trip over your high heels as you push through the moving bodies as quickly as you can.

But the figure is there, hovering over you like a dark shadow that causes your heart to clench.

You bite back a whimper, pushing through a throng of girls as you frantically search for a sign of Kuroo’s familiar mop of hair. Or Hinata’s. Or just about anyone for that matter—

Bumping into a chest, you’re more than surprised as you let out a small yelp only to hear a familiar alto.

“Kosuke-san, everything alright?”

“K—Kuroo sensei,” your mumble is drowned in the beats of the music, eyes darting between his face and the dodgy man.

He’s now standing by the bar a few feet away from you. The same kind of withering stare that makes you wince.

Hurriedly, you turn to Kuroo and grip his shirt, wanting nothing more than to hide behind him, “I—uhm— there’s someone—“ the words jumble up as they pour out of your mouth and you find you can do nothing but grip his shirt for dear life, like Kuroo’s the only thing that can help you out of here.

Thankfully, he seems to understand your dilemma, for he puts a hand on your shoulder before steering you a little closer to him and away from the main path, a frown evident on his face, “what’s wrong Kosuke-san?”

But it’s only when he follows your fear-stricken eyes that Kuroo realizes there’s something — someone tormenting you. He recognizes the dark hunger, the prowling intent.

Instantly, his hand grips your waist. Tugs you closer.

You stumble into him, “Kuroo sensei—“

But Kuroo’s not having it. He stares the man down with a glower, longer body practically wrapped around yours in a protective embrace as he dares the man to do something, anything.

Try me, his eyes are saying, you’re not going to lay a single hand on her.

The stranger finally breaks eye contact after a few beats of silence and Kuroo keeps watch, golden eyes blazing until the man is nothing more but a memory of smoke as he disappears into the crowd.

Only then does he allow his hold to relax. Tilting down towards you. He murmurs out softly:

“He’s gone, Kosuke-san.”

You’re practically glued to him at this point, face buried in his chest and hands gripping so tightly onto his shirt that you might’ve grown claws. Kuroo nudges you gently once more, and that’s when you look up from the depths of his shirt.

The sight makes him almost coo because goddamnit even in the dim disco lights you look adorable. He has the sudden urge to pinch your cheeks and he’s glad his hands are somewhat occupied along your waist.

“You okay?” Is what he whispers.

You nod, looking a bit shaky and green int the face, “yeah—I’m—I’m fine. Thank you. He was—it scared me.”

“I know,” Kuroo draws away ever so slightly so he can have a better look at your face, “I’ll bring you home, alright?”

“No no it’s okay,” you shake your head and attempt a smile, but even Kuroo can see past those shaky lips, “you stay and have fun. I’ll call an Uber and—“

“Nonsense,” he grabs your elbow once more, “I’ll accompany you. C’mon.”

———

It’s definitely unnerving. It leaves you shaking with fear and you’re thankful for Kuroo’s strong grip on your arm as he maneuvers you out of the club.

The rush of cold wind hits your cheeks, leaving the soft beats of the club behind. Slowly, the world comes back into focus as the air rushes through your lungs and the sound bustling traffic in the distance is brought back into focus.

Only then do you realize how close you’re standing to the coach.

With a start, you stumble away with a muttered “sorry”, not daring to meet his eyes while quickly brushing off your clothes because dear god you weren’t sure what to do with your hands.

The uber arrives without much delay — thankfully — and the ride home is silent, almost as if there’s an awkward tension that has settled between the two of you. Away from the alcohol and now sobering up, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that you’d practically glued yourself to this man earlier. The act is so embarrassing you decidedly keep your gaze on the flurry of bustling streets and dim lamps flying by.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until a warm hand is shaking your shoulder, followed by a soft; “we’re here.”

You gasp, noticing that you’ve been pressed against Kuroo’s shoulder all this time.

“Oh,” you scramble away as quick as lightning, “I’m so sorry—“

His lips quirk upwards, “no harm done, senpai.”

You hate it when he calls you that. It makes you sound… old.

Nevertheless, you decide to be quiet as he accompanies you up to your flat, hands in his pockets while following you up the rusty stairs. You hope he’s not judging; it’s not like you have unlimited amounts of funding, what with Sakura’s education and activities.

“Well,” you finally reach the door to your flat and turn on your heel so that you face him, “thanks… for everything.”

"No problem," he's smiling down at you. Still so patient, still so happy to help. Your heart swells in your chest and you ask, "how are you getting back?"

"Oh, probably Uber..." he trails off, already turning away to fish his phone out of his pocket, "it's not far."

"Where do you live?"

You almost bawk when he tells you his address, because it's practically at the other end of town. He'll be there in forty-five minutes, at least.

The words are automatic, shooting out of you, "I'm so--"

But Kuroo's hand whips out, clamping over your lips. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, only to see the young man grinning like there's no tomorrow.

"You really need to stop doing that," he finally says before drawing back. Already, you're hit with the cold air following Kuroo's touch upon your skin, "I wanted to accompany you. There's nothing to apologize for."

"I know, but--"

He throws you another pointed look that has you clamping down on your mouth. You're about to say sorry once more because you're being a pathetic blubbery mess, but the look in his eyes makes you say a soft, "thank you" instead.

"You're welcome," and with one final grin and a wave to match, the school Coach disappears down the corridor, leaving you gazing at his broad back until his silhouette turns the corner and away from your sight.

[finexbright]

grief to me comes in waves, some soft, some harsh. almost a month later and i'm still finding it hard to grasp the reality that he is actually gone. that one day, i was making coffee for him which he drank on his birthday and then the next i had moved a whole continent away and was sat in a completely different job reading about his death that happened a country away from me. and i think what hits me the most is that i was so disconnected from him in the past couple years and yet my whole identity was, is and will always be so intertwined with him and the band. i remember the exact moment i made his coffee during the last week of my previous job and i remember the exact moment i heard about his death during the first week of my new job, only a month apart, but how very different. i think about how in that one month's time my entire life changed and how he also deserved to have that, how he also deserved to change, to get better, to overcome his inhibitions, to seek help and to understand his faults and apologise for them and grow from them. how his child deserves to have a father attending his birthdays and graduations and other achievements. how at the end of the day, he deserved to live, not just become a headline that said that his story, his life, ended tragically.

[eden-writes-stuff]

Hi, I hope you're doing well!

I was wondering if you could write something about Luna and Harry coming up with a plan for their moms to fall in love, and for they can be siblings.

It's an idea I've had for a while and I think it's really fun.

OMG I love this idea. So cute!

Tags: fluff, comfort, kids being silly, setup, Regulus being a great parent / uncle side ships: wolfstar, jegulus

Luna spread the paper on the couch table and placed her crayons beside it.

"Operation: bring Pandora and Lily together so we can be siblings - BPALTSWCBS." 

Harry pulled out his glitter pens. "I did my research over last week."

Research, in this case, being a Romance-movie-marathon with his uncles over the weekend. They had very much supported him when he'd confided in them and told them their plan. Or at least the general idea which they needed the plan for. 

 "Great. Tell me what you've learned." She pulled the cap off of one of the glitter gels and got ready to write.

"Well, most of them were with a man and a woman, but I think it works either way", he started and Luna nodded. "So, there was one where they were working on a project together and then they got locked in at their office and had to cuddle to keep warm." "But our moms don't work together." Harry hesitated for a moment. "we could get them to organise your birthday party together?" Luna thought about it, then wrote it down.

"There was another one with two men where they got locked in together in a room and then some woman threatened their lives unless they kiss." The six-year-old grinned and put it above the other idea.

"For the next one we'd have to wait until yule, but maybe you can convince your grandparents to ask your mum if she has found someone yet and then she freaks out and brings my mum as a fake date, so they stop annoying her." "She doesn't really care about their opinions so that probably won't work..."

"Alright. The one where the woman wants to get married before her sister is also out because aunt Petunia is already married..." "So our only option to make them be happy together is to threaten their lives?", Luna summarised. "Yeah, I think so."

"Great. But we need to make them believe it. Maybe we could get a dragon from somewhere." "Or a serial killer. Hey, papa." Harry looked up from their plan on the table, as Regulus walked in. "What do you need a serial killer for, mon coeur?", he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Harry and Luna shared a glance. "You need to promise not to tell anyone. This is a top-secret mission." Harry leaned in a bit and Regulus nodded slowly. "We're trying to get mom to go out with Panda, so they fall in love and get married and then we can be siblings", he half-whispered. 

"But we're not sure, how to do it yet. Our best idea is to threaten their lives so that they kiss", Luna added, shrugging.

Regulus nodded. It was best not to question a child's logic, not to mention that it sounded like something that might actually work if executed properly. Plus, as Pandora's confidante, he knew that she had fancied the redhead since they were teenagers.

Harry looked up at him. "How did you and dad get together?" The pale man attempted to answer a few times, but eventually just shook his head. "I think that's a story for another time. I do have an idea, however. Do you want to hear it?" They both nodded excitedly.

"Maybe you need to approach it from the other side. You tell them you want to spend a sibling-day with your favourite moms. You know, go to the park, have a movie night... That way you force them to spend time together and see how adorable you two are."

The children shared a few looks. "But then we don't get to threaten their lives..." "We can still do that if plan A doesn't work." "Hmmm.... okay."

Luna wrote it on the paper with a crayon. "Thank you, uncle Reggie. You can leave now. We need to work out the details."

[dudewhy3]

Continue yours and Myrtle's discussion about Armin being a Twilight fan, what if it's a plot twist, and it's ARMIN who introduced Mikasa to Twilight?

Like, he was *analysing* everything and reading books and watching movies, but was ashamed of it, and Mikasa once spotted him writing another long essay about, "The more Edward loves Bella, the more he thinks he's in danger: principles of the selective abstraction and polarizes thinking", and so he introduced her with the saga after this.

BONUS: before AruAni became a thing, Armin heard Annie playing and singing Paramore - Decode, and he was mesmerized by her voice, playing and beauty, and so he was so smitten with her, that he didn't even notice that Annie was, in fact, smitten with him, too. It took them a while before they became a couple, but when they did, Annie plays Decode only for him :3

HI ANNAAAA, AND OH MY GOD YES!! THIS IS SUCH A GREAT IDEA AAAAAAGH, thank you for sending it in!! <3

It turned out rather long ahaha, so i'll put it under the cut. Please do beware of the angst ahead :3

So in a high school au, let's say Armin was 16 this year. That would mean that he was born in the same year the first Twilight movie was released (2008), just 3 weeks before. So, imagine his parents, a young couple, new parents to a little bundle of light, huddling up on the little couch in their little apartment, trying to ignore the cold, switching through channels to make the time pass. They randomly get to a channel streaming Twilight, so they watch it all. And little Armin doesn't cry once, he just stares at the screen with those big eyes of his, as if he understood everything that was going on. For the next 5 years, each November they would watch the release of another Twilight movie (except for that one time in like 2010 when they released it in June). And after the saga was complete, they'd watch it all in November, maybe even on Armin's birthday to make it more special. Until the day he turned 10, and his parents didn't come home– they never came home again, it was just him and his grandfather. Yet every time he missed them, he put on a Twilight movie, and the grief would get a little more bearable.

So as he grew older, he grew more attached to the saga. He started analysing everything about it, every little detail, because it made him feel closer to his parents. But he never shared those ideas, because they were so intimate and he was already getting bullied enough- so, he kept them in a little notebook. Until one day in math class when he was about 13 or 14, he was scribbling down ideas for that essay you mentioned- "The more Edward loves Bella, the more he thinks he's in danger" (which is such a cool title btw, love it). And Mikasa peeked over his shoulder and read a bit, and she was so engrossed with it that she didn't stop pestering him until he showed her the movies.Which was life changing for Mikasa, because she now finally had something she truly loved, but also for Armin- someone liked his ideas; he got to share his love for the series again, and it made him happy. So he finally found the courage to share his analyses and ideas, and they were well recieved by the fandom.

But he never finished that essay, not until he met Annie. He met her just as you said- he heard her singing once and was irrevocably in love. Except, i head canon that Annie would be such a distant and quiet person in high school, it would take a LOT to get close to her. Not only is she aloof, she's also extremely direct- so all his efforts to sit with her or strike up conversation ended up in her berating him for bugging her. Besides, there was Bert too, always two steps behind Annie in an almost stalky manner, but she seemed to indulge his presence better than Armin's.

So, Armin gave up on trying to pursue her. He accepted the fact that he was the Jacob in this situation and that his Bella has chosen the giant vampire, and drowned himself into his theories and analysis. He found that essay in his drafts, and decided to work on it again. "The more Edward loves Bella, the more he thinks he's in danger: principles of the selective abstraction and polarized thinking". It helped to put his own feelings and love somewhere.

But the bullies found it. They found his notebook, tore it all up, gave him one hell of a beating. Armin was left bruised and broken and with a ruined notebook. His work, his life's purpose- gone. He didn't know what to do, so he picked himself up, gathered the pieces of paper that used to be his essay, and started walking astray through the school. Until he heard soft guitar tunes coming out of the music room, and found Annie there, playing her guitar, wearing a scowl on her face. Somehow, her scowl only deepened when she saw him.

"I didn't know where else to go." He couldn't go home and worry his grandpa, and he couldn't go to his friends either, or Eren would have caused a scene. "Is it cool if I stay here? I promise not to bother you."

Annie looked him up and down, examining him thoroughly, her eyes widening the slightest bit at the sight of his bruises. "It's whatever," she finally said.

So they sat in the music room, each doing their own thing. Armin put his essay back together, and Annie carried on with her song. No word was spoken between them that day, or the next day, or the next week, yet there was peace in the quiet and comfort in the silent understanding passed between them. But Annie's silence turned into nods of aknowledgement and later into quiet 'hi's. Armin's turned into little smiles and stolen glances, and occasional "hey do you want some chips?"s. One day, two months into this arrangement, as she was taking a little break from her guitar and munching on his chips, she asked about that essay of his.

"How come you haven't finished it yet, don't you have a deadline for it?"

And so, feeling extremely self conscious, Armin beat around the bush and said that it was this silly character analyses for a show he liked.

The next day, Annie was playing another song, but he didn't recognize it at first because she played it in little sequences, never in full length. Eventually, maybe three or four weeks later, she asked him to put his essay aside for a minute and just listen, and she played Paramore's Decode, both guitar and voice. Armin was left absolutely mesmerized, so much so that he didn't know what to say, staring at Annie with a big dumb smile on his face. But the more he stared, the more self aware Annie became. She flushed a deep red, picked up all her stuff in a hurry and left.

That was the moment Armin realized he was completely smitten. He went home, sat down at his desk- and decided to finish his essay that very day, give it to Annie in the morning, and confess his love through it. Which is exactly what he did. He was an absolute zombie the next day, having barely slept, but when he made it to the music room his heart was beating like crazy against his chest.

Annie got flustered when she saw him. "This is my room, I found it first. If you're gonna sit there and mock me for what I play, then you can stick your nose right up your-"

He thrusted the papers in her arms. "Just read this," he demanded.

Annie looked between him and the papers with skeptical eyes, but eventually sat down and started reading through them. Armin sat next to her and carefully watched her face as she read, taking into account every little change in her expression.

When she was done, Annie sat the papers neatly between them.

"Okay. And?"

"What do you think?"

"What does this have to do with me?"

Armin took a deep breath in, building up his courage. He couldn't back out now.

"This is how I feel about you. What do you think?"

[fatherrussia-69]

「《Happy Birthday Father R and Updates!》」

Hey Hey! Sorry for the absences, if you've been keeping up with all the updates, you'll know that we've been pretty busy this year and haven't been able to write. o(*￣▽￣*)ブ Yeahhh, School's just been eating up me and Editor T's schedules. 😩🤧 We've tried finding a good schedule for Father R to write without him getting burnt out and for me and Henchman A to be available to edit, pre-read and add our authornotes, but it's been proving to be difficult. That's why we've just settled for the goal of getting at least 2-3 chapters posted per month. It's not as many as it used to be last year, but working on the weekends seem to be the only saving grace. (￣▽￣)" There's a break coming up for Thanksgiving, so we're going to double-timing that week to try and get things posted. I cannot assure anyone that we'll get a chapter posted, but we'll have definitely made progress. I've also made a bit of a routine when it comes to writing to avoid Writer's block, and I'm proud to say Chapter 61 of SSATW is about 78% ready for posting. RAD Chapter 4 is about 64% but that's only because I haven't figured out the skeletal structure of the chapter yet- ヾ(≧ ▽ ≦)ゝ Anyways, Now that Updates are out of the way, HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY BIG GUY!!! 🥳🎉🎊🎂 Happy Birthday Father R, and thank you @thegenderfluidace for surprising him with this drawing this morning. Hearing him screech in joy was one wake to wake up. Sorry about that- But truthfully, Thank you so much Ace for the drawing!!! Your art is amazing, and whether or not you were able to finish the drawing doesn't ruin the surprise in the slightest. q(≧▽≦q) As per tradition, we went bowling on his birthday and God Damn- 😀💀 I got first place, which isn't surprising. Gutter, after Gutter, After Gutter- ...( ＿ ＿)ノ｜

Ask me how this man got outdone by the NPC (accidentally added another slot so we all just randomly rolled balls down the lane). 🤧🤣 I had a rebirth on my skill tree okay? (┬┬﹏┬┬) You only had 23 points. Everyone else was above 50- Couldn't be me. 🤪😘 Just wait till next year. o(一︿一+)o Anyways, we'll see you guys pretty soon, we have some questions in our Inbox and although the Q&A has long since ended, we will answer a few of them when we can! If you guys have any questions or just want to chat with us, don't be afraid to drop by our inbox and say hello! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) ALSO WE REACHED 108 FOLLOWERS ON TUMBLR!! YOU GUYS ARE ABSOLUTELY FUCKING AMAZING!!!! 😍🤩😖

[heresiae]

Every year

Me, every year, starting to plan my birthday and who to invite: meh, there will be very little people, I don't have that many friends

Me, every time, after finishing the list: there... there are actually more than 20 people here? *pikachu face*

[chalkrub]

it's mendel!

[elvenferretots]

On one hand, I feel horribly guilty for having a couple weekends where I've committed to absolutely nothing to the point of backing out of volunteering at a local dog show.

On the other hand, I have dog sport events literally every weekend and practice or class at least twice a week throughout the entirety of October and November. I think I get a free pass for a couple weekends.

[piranya]

RIP @dougsakmann - you were always a sick freak. loved that about you. thanks for being the punk rock icon we needed but didnt deserve. miss you dearly

[josecariohca]

.

[satorisoup]

WAHHH good morning fwiends n’ happy sunday !! ( ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟) & happy september 1st !! dis means dat spooky season is upon us !! what a wonderful time of tha year !! <3

i hope everyone has tha most wonderfulest day today, remember dat you are important n’ loved !! MWUUUAH !! <3 🍯

[neonkoii]

happy two year anniversary to the very beginning of my descent into madness (the day i added my hockey guy on social media) (it all went downhill from there)

[unknownsoldiers]

When a species lives for so long, there is no need to keep track of when someone’s birthday is. In fact, most tend to forget after a few centuries. It is a trivial thing to remember over time.

However, it is a date Lieutenant did put a note in. It wasn’t for any reason he intended to tell others, it was just a milestone for himself. An accomplishment.

That alone is a blessing not bestowed upon everyone. War has made him appreciate such small hurdles in his lifespan that he dares not take them for granted. He made it through another year. His eyes fix on the next, although what he does to fill that time gap has yet to be determined.