#Earbuds Capabilities

[techdriveplay]

Sennheiser Elevates Audio Experience with New Smart Control App Features

The latest update to Sennheiser Smart Control App introduces significant enhancements, allowing users of the brand’s connected consumer audio devices to unlock even more potential from the new MOMENTUM and ACCENTUM true wireless earbuds. This release is packed with innovative features designed to enhance user convenience and expand the functionality of these cutting-edge earbuds. Introducing the…

[fruit-snacker]

I ended up buying a cane and it's better than nothing for my tremors. I prefer sitting or leaning but it certainly will help i think

[arctic-hands]

I have joined the society of bluetooth earphones

[citroensap]

the 3.5mm headphone jack on mobile phones was one of the greatest innovations of the modern era yet it is being phased out for some undeniably worse bluetooth craze

[gyuisms]

little things ! c.sc

tldr. they say love is in the little things | pairings. seungcheol x gn! reader | fluff | cw. mentions of fighting, bad days | note. where do i find myself a seungcheol?

holding hands in a crowd

his fingers are always wrapped around yours, no matter the place or time. he finds ways to intertwine them but holding hands in a crowd is just special. even if he’s carrying some bags, he’ll shift them to his other hand and hold your hand if you’re entering a crowd. his fingers tighten around yours, a gentle squeeze before he intertwines your fingers. you could be distracted by completely different things but your hands are interlocked always. a gentle and subtle, i’m here.

buying things unprompted

it doesn’t matter how many times you scold him not to buy you stuff. the second he sees something that reminds him of you, his hands are grabbing it. whether it’s a plushie or the most atrocious thing, he’ll buy it. seungcheol also takes a mental note whenever he sees you using something old or broken. if he notices your broken phone case, he silently buys you one. your glasses are a bit skewed? he has already ordered on for you. your earbuds are not working properly? he gets a customised one for you. with him, you never have to ask anything. he’s already ready with it.

always having your back

he has your back no matter what. he’ll take the fall with you no matter the height. the thing about seungcheol is, he will never let you go through anything alone. your problems are his too. but if you wish to deal with it alone, he lets you, knowing you’re capable of taking care of it. even if you mess up badly, he’s still there. a mistake doesn’t deter him from loving you. he holds you accountable to your mistakes. even on your bad, moody days when you just want to be left alone, he leaves a small message, telling you to reach out when you feel like it. he loves you fully, not just the good parts but also the bad and ugly ones.

clear communication

he doesn’t beat around the bush. especially if he loves you and wants you in his life. which he does. this may not seem like a big thing but seungcheol always make sure there are no misunderstandings between you. this also applies to fights. he lets you air out your frustration and he does the same but no one will go to bed mad. either after a break or right after, he communicates with you. softly. even if he’s mad or annoyed, seungcheol knows he loves you at the end of the day. even if the fight hasn't resolved, he kisses your forehead and gives both of you time to cool off. he texts a simple i love you, making sure you know it despite the fight.

[tb-png]

catching up on some Zzz - 🧼🧢👻

there’s something so intimately cute and just adorably human about people squished together in a train napping

OKAY HC TIME HEHE:

- ghost has soft shoulders, soapgaz love it

- gaz has specific music if he wants to listen to something while he sleeps, soap can sleep to anything so they always share earbuds

- ghost listens to whatever shuffle puts on

- soap always takes up the most space + needs to cuddle SOMETHING

- ghost tries to stay awake & alert (book in hand, 1 earbud out) but he gets too cozy btwn them

- as the big strong boyfriend, ghost knows he should be looking out for them, he always gets this crushing anxiety about being unable to protect his team and his loved ones. With Soapgaz tho, he knows that his srgs are some of the most capable ppl, that can hold their own (and even protect him too) so when his eyes get heavy, for once in his life he feels comfortable just sleeping

[kinichval]

seatmate!kinich isn't someone you would call a top achiever, sure, he will put in effort when necessary—but he's not the type of student to chug down five cups of coffee for an all-nighter. despite his self-perception that he's just being the bare minimum of a student, his grades prove that he's a well-performing student in their class. hence, he frequently finds himself being the target of everyone's thirst to pass a course.

"hey, kinich. can you help me with this task?"

"kinich, are you busy? i was wondering if you could teach me this lesson."

"kinich, can i copy your homework?"

it's bothersome to deal with a flood of desperate students half of the week, but kinich puts up with their needs as he gets paid in return. no discounts, no installments. that's malipo kinich for ya. (except he doesn't allow copying his homework, better luck next life.)

some students do it for free, why do they flock to kinich?

right, because the top performing student in class, also known as you, straight up refuses to be of help. not entirely being selfish, you would share files and resources to the class when the professor fails to provide sufficient materials and you would point out corrections when the majority makes the same mistake.

or maybe they just have a huge fat crush on kinich.

well, the sheer fact that your seatmate, kinich, is their first choice when an academic predicament bestows on them allows you to slip away from the scene and find yourself getting comfortable somewhere in the library.

(now you are the type to pull all-nighters and, make an effort to create comprehensible and visual-learner friendly lecture notes.)

there are also times when kinich is also clueless, rendering his help useless because he genuinely can't provide an answer nor explanation. he's just human, too, just like them.

just like you.

it doesn't escape his peripheral sight how you quickly stand up the moment a few classmates gather around kinich after class dismisses. he can't conclude the thoughts that run in your mind, but he's curious where you go—

"can i sit here with you?"

someone taps your earbuds to pause the music blaring in your ears, you look up to find who the culprit is with your eyes already burning holes through their forehead.

but oh—it's just... kinich?

"why?"

"just because."

you answer with a tch, lowering your head to continue studying.

"you don't understand that, right?"

oh, you hear him, you forgot to resume the music.

"i do." denial is a river.

"can you teach me?"

kinich doesn't ask for help. he believes he's capable of many things if he works hard (and smart) for it. but right now, he'll let you have a peak at his vulnerability just so he could have a glimpse of what it's like to be under your care.

[kitorin]

in which, itoshi rin expresses his love for you in, peculiar ways.

itoshi rin is wearily watching his opponent's highlights when you tug on the sleeve of his hoodie.

he almost rips his earbud out by the wire, contrariwise to the soft gaze he gives you, the slight tilt of his head accompanied by a quiet hum asks you what's wrong.

"were you busy? i can ask later."

"'course not." without hesitation he turns his phone off and tosses it somewhere onto his bed. "something wrong?"

you lean against the coffee table, where the two of you were studying; match analysis for rin and unfortunately an infuriating research task for your upcoming exam. your chin rests on both your palms, fingers cupping your own cheek.

"what's your favourite thing about me?"

owlishly, he stares, then blinks. you mimic his actions, waiting for a response.

"i have to pick?"

you nod eagerly. "it feels like a while since i've properly spoken to you. we don't have any classes together and i've been studying during break times. and i keep falling asleep on the bus."

rin nods with understanding. "then my favourite thing about you is that."

"is what?"

"i love watching you sleep."

it takes a lot not to make a stupefied face.

of all answers you expected, it was clearly not that. rin's love languages centred around quality time and physical touch, but he's still fully capable of uttering sweet nothings. which was something you were desperately craving at the moment.

"rin that's so creepy—"

his typical stoicism melts away into bewilderment. "it is?"

oh my god, did your boyfriend have some sort of strange fetish?

"i don't get it." rin frowns. "it's been making me happy recently, why's it so bad?"

"but why's that?"

lithe fingers brush a few strands of hair behind your ears. "you're always so tired recently, it makes me feel at peace seeing you rest. i'm relieved knowing that you're getting a proper break." his aquamarine irises avoid eye contact, pink dusting his cheeks. "i like having you close to me, too."

guilt permeates your gut for having such assumptions. "sorry for assuming the worst, love." your hand cups his, bringing it to your lips for a kiss. "i'm just busy, with exams and stuff, y'know?"

"i know, and i get that. but i don't like the possibility of you collapsing from not sleeping enough, or burning out. and you deserve to sleep and eat properly, they're important for learning and improvement too."

and rin's right, it just feels as though there's not enough time, with so many exams being stuffed into such a little period. there's the fear of failing, falling behind peers and all the efforts you've put in amounting to nothing because of a mistake.

but as he said, rest is important, just as much as working hard. success cannot be attain with one without the other.

you settle yourself onto rin's lap, resting your head on his shoulder, and back against his chest, placing a small kiss on his cheek. "thanks for reminding me, i'm done for today. let's make the most of tonight."

he responds with a small smile, and wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"i must be really pretty then, if watching me sleep is that enjoyable." you throw out an attempt of teasing him, waiting for his reaction.

"nah. your face kinda squishes up on my shoulder."

"wow. okay. i see—"

"your neck also ends up in the weirdest positions so i usually have to move you around to make sure you don't have too much neck pain later."

"very sweet of you, that's enough though."

"did i mention you drool sometimes too?"

"rin—"

taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[chaaistained]

maybe you’re gonna be the one that saves me

gaining consciousness in my arrowverse dr for what felt like only three minutes (but i suspect it was longer..)

.

.

.

i was desperate. yet again.. if you remember my first post on a successful shift (where i opened my eyes) i had gone to sleep in desperation and intense desire to leave this reality. and the reason i bring this up? so that you know how easy and how capable it is to shift, even in the throws of desperation

it was a standard story — i stayed up late, contemplated existence, had a random burst of motivation to write 2k words for one of my fics, sat and stared at the wall while imagining edits to the music i was listening to, got distracted by barry allen edits before finally deciding to lay my head on the pillow and actually make an attempt

i chose an alunir meditation (the one for waiting rooms bcs that’s my main goal) before getting comfortable and allowing myself to relax

the problem is . i had a hard time relaxing.. tossing and turning, random joints spontaneously feeling itchy, distracted thoughts and an overall sense of despondency . but i persevered :/

i dipped in and out of sleep a couple of times and the last thing i remember is getting bothered by my earbuds and nudging them out of my ears before i completely blank out

i don’t know when i started to feel myself waking up again, but i do know how and why .. i could feel another presence beside me. i could feel the mattress dip down and the relaxed sigh of someone who just got into their bed after a long and tiring day

looking back on it now .. i’m surprised how normal?? that felt??

normally i only act this way in my cr with my parents like when my mum comes into my room for some extra crash when she’s going to get groceries, or my dad needs to borrow a charger. i’ll be asleep but i’ll be mentally awake, and i’ll hear their shuffling and recognise their footsteps, so i’ll be completely relaxed albeit a little annoyed by the noise

it’s baffling yet reassuring, the way that there is such normalcy, such seamless existence, between one reality and another i mean IT FELT LIKE IT HAD HAPPENED SO MANY TIMES BEFORE (and IT PROBABLY DID) this was probably something so normal for my dr and my life there

as i felt that sense of consciousness and mental awareness start to kick in, i noticed the faintest sound of cars on roads, a few light horns, just the constant white noised hum of traffic (and i can’t explain this in any other way but) it felt like a state of calm to me. it felt like something i should always expect. i honestly didn’t notice it until i heard a very distinct horn of a truck and then it went back to being the natural form of background noise

at this point, i don’t even know what i was thinking. the only thought i had was sleep. getting more sleep, going back to sleep, staying asleep . sleep

i must have moved or shuffled, i must have done something to indicate my slowly waking self because i was quickly tucked back under the sheets, a soft “shh” whispered against the back of my neck, gentle hands weaving their fingers through my hair and it felt like i was floating yet completely cushioned by some cloud of comfort

^ reading that over . it would sound scary and psychotic if i wasn’t so comfortable with my surroundings aksjdjskdk like, i knew that i could trust this person? i didn’t even remember his name bcs i was so exhausted but i was like “oh. it’s him, i love him… i’m tired” [starts relaxing again]

it felt so fucking relaxing .. it felt like i could sleep for eternity with not a worry in the world, it felt like every stressor was alleviated from my mind with every stroke of his fingers through my hair

and what made it all more worth it than it already was — he quietly started to hum

it was strangely unfamiliar yet so familiar at the same time, it was a melody i’d heard over and over again and yet i couldn’t quite place it but that was probably bcs my body was forcing me to go back to sleep

i really didn’t have much of a choice in the matter unfortunately :/

believe me, as soon as i woke up back here, i wanted to go back there, i wanted to return to that moment of peace, keep it in a capsule of love and take it with me everywhere, i want to paint it onto the canvas of my heart and keep it framed for good bcs i will never forget how complete i felt in that moment

maybe if i had known, maybe if i had been more awake to recognise that i had shifted, that i was in my arrowverse dr, that it was BARRY who had probably just returned from patrol and was finally going to sleep, it was BARRY who had brushed the curls of my hair with a touch so soft it felt like velvet, it was BARRY who’s voice carried me off into the sweetest slumber that cannot be compared

bcs when i tell you that waking up here was JARRING?? i’m not shitting you . i heard my air con, and the neighbourhood cat and i was thrown back into this life with a jolt.

it’s like i relaxed so much, it became too much? that’s the only explanation i can think of

i just stayed on my back, staring at the dark abyss of my room’s ceiling, regulating my mind

i could hear barry in my head but it was different, it was like a memory, bcs at this point it is a memory — i lived something without realising and now all i’ve got is the memory..

i sat up and checked my phone to see that it was 3:24 in the morning, meaning i had officially turned 21 and the birthday blues hit me full swing

bcs i had done it again, i’d shifted, i’d accomplished what i’d wanted, and while i felt happy, i still feel this void.. bcs it felt so NICE and i want to go back so badly

and that’s what i plan to do

anyway, some odd things that i noticed upon waking up here — my headphones (which i remember pulling out of my ears) were now safely back in their case. again. (this has happened before) so i’m assuming my cr-self did it but idk why i can’t remember, idk why i didn’t get the memory download ..

anyway, another thing, the song? THE SONG !! i remembered it instantly (maybe cuz in this reality i actually woke up fully conscious) it was WONDERWALL BY OASIS

safe to say it has been on repeat all day

(specifically the cover by zella day bcs apparently i already had it downloaded?? i remember being obsessed w this cover back in 2019 and now it means smth completely different to me, smth more personal)

idk what to make of this shift, i wasn’t even intending to shift to this dr, i was planning on going to my waiting room but i guess my subconscious was thinking abt barry (probably bcs of all the edits and working on my arrowverse fic)

i can still hear his voice and it’s such a soothing memory :(

idk why i feel such a void in me when logically, i knew i succeeded in accomplishing my goal.. but i’m gonna try and use this as a form of motivation for how much power our subconscious has on us, bcs i may have been intending to shift to my wr, but i genuinely needed this shift to my arrowverse dr

it was helpful in a way i can’t quite put into words, but to try : it rejuvenated me

.

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chaai brews; tea assortments — dr archive

2025 © chaaistained

[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 1

Masterlist taglist

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation.

Alphas are dying out and rare. It was dangerous to be an Alpha nowadays. You could be taken and never seen again at any moment by Alpha slave traders.

I sighed heavily as the song playing through my earbuds was once again interrupted with the sound of my ringtone. I glanced at the screen to see yet another out of country number. The fifth one today. I blocked it as soon as it stopped ringing.

No one I knew was outside of the country and I wasn’t interested in donating any money to a Nigerian prince down on his luck.

The music blared again, and I got back to work, attempting to get back into that nice zone I had found earlier. Before it was so rudely interrupted by spammers.

So when, a couple minutes later, my phone went off with my text notification, I was totally justified at the string of curses that left my lips.

There, hopefully that ends that. I don’t know how my number got leaked over-freaking-seas, but I’m sick of dealing with it.

And then I blocked the jerk as promised. Just to be on the safe side I screen shotted the whole exchange as well. You could never be too careful with assholes.

Assholes trying to use my subgender against me. I have been very careful with my suppressants. No one left alive knows what my true subgender is-and I am keeping it that way.

For the next day, my phone was blissfully free of any out of the country calls or texts. My threat must have worked. Or the spammers decided I wasn’t worth the hassle. Either way I win. It was peaceful.

Then my doorbell rang early in the evening.

I quickly ran to the bedroom to find something to put on since I was only in an old t shirt and panties. My hamper was closest to the door, I grabbed the first thing and pulled them on, then jogged to open the door, fully expecting it to be another pizza delivery coming to the wrong address.

I was wrong. Boy was I wrong. I opened the door in 3-day old unwashed hair, ratty stained t shirt, and my dirty pair of eggplant print boxers I used to lounge around in, to find a small group of people.

I was shocked. Gob smacked even! I recognized 2 of them immediately, and my entire body froze, mouth hanging open.

“I told you I needed your help.” JYP stated slapping his thigh and pursing his lips.

The JYP was standing in front of my door. Not just him either. No. Bang freaking Chan was also there. Both were lightly disguised with hats and hoods. And I was in ratty, dirty lounge clothes.

In a ridiculous moment of panic, I slammed the door shut with a squeak I didn’t know I was capable of making.

On the other side of the door there was a chuckle, then a knock. I stood frozen, not comprehending what was currently happening.

“L/n, I just want to talk.” JYP spoke through the door, voice muffled but understandable.

As the seconds passed there was more, unintelligible talking, then my door handle turned.

“L/n, I’m coming in. It’s just two of us now. I really only want to talk.” JYP called through the slowly opening door.

I let the door open without moving, watching with wide eyes and shallow breath as JYP and BangChan stepped into my apartment.

BangChan, adorable loser that he is, awkwardly waggled his fingers in a wave, hunched forward slightly. I automatically lifted my hand in a return wave.

“Shoes off.” I breathed attempting to get my brain and body working again. It was easier said than done, but you know what they say. Fake it until you make it.

JYP knew me, apparently. And apparently knew my grandparents according to his texts before I blocked him. He knew me. He knew my name. My address. My…fuck! My subgender. That’s what this was all about.

I sighed, all at once losing every ounce off starstruck shock as I came to this conclusion. I turned and sat on my chair, leaving the couch for them. JYP is persistent, I had no choice but to listen to his plea at this point.

It was odd to see such powerful men in socks for some reason. As they passed to sit, I caught BangChans scent and shivered, goosebumps forming on my arms. He smelled like sand and a pine forest, and it hit me in all the right Alpha spots.

Omegas aren’t common, but they aren’t uncommon either. I had smelled them before, plenty of times. But none had my whole being react like BangChans scent did. It was probably because I am such a fan.

“Are you sure? She smells like Beta.” BangChan asked JYP as they got comfortable. He spoke in Korean, probably thinking I didn’t understand it.

“She understands you. L/n, probably speaks Korean more fluently than you do. And yes, I’m sure.” JYP warned him with a smile.

“My grandparents have both been dead since I was a child, so how do you know so much about me?” I asked. More like demanded but who’s going to call me out on it?

JYP shrugged. “My mother always kept tabs on you. Said you were worth looking after. When she passed, I picked it up.”

“But why?”

“To make sure you were okay. Your grandparents and my parents were very close.”

“Wouldn’t know. They didn’t talk about that kind of stuff with me. It was all lessons on my heritage and ancestry. Culture, language, and traditions.” It was always a lesson with them. Always insistent I knew where I came from, who I came from. I hated it then, but as I grew older, I started to appreciate it. Especially when my parents died, and I was left all alone. The knowledge wasn’t lost.

“We met a couple of times, but you were too young to remember.”

Enough reminiscing. “What did you want from me? It’s obviously to use me as an Alpha.”

BangChan grimaced and I suspected I knew where this was going, but I hoped I was wrong.

JYP nodded. “You know the Korean laws on idol Omegas?”

Did I? It was all STAY could talk about. All Omega idols must be bonded to an Alpha within 6 years of their official debut. Stray Kids was rapidly coming up on that deadline with no bonding Alpha in sight. STAY worried they would be forced to disband. Stray Kids had been on hiatus to focus solely on finding their Alpha. There were only a couple weeks left.

It was exactly as I feared. “Surely you can find several more qualified Alphas.” I argued.

To most Alpha STAYs, being asked to attempt to bond Stray Kids would be a dream come true. Especially since it would mean a higher level of safety. It was dangerous for an Alpha now.

Generations ago, the 3 subgenders were more equal in population. But now? Now Alphas are almost endangered. Most were Betas, but there was a nice number of Omegas too. Too many Omegas and not enough Alphas. And people were desperate to create more Alphas.

A lot of Omegas were able to settle comfortably with a Beta, but any pregnancy would only produce Betas. An Alpha parent was required to have another Alpha.

So there came an Alpha slave trade. Alphas would be taken, sold, used, and abused until they died. Forced to impregnate countless paying Omegas in the hopes of creating more Alphas.

When I found out I was Alpha I immediately started on the strongest suppressants I could find. They hid my scent and made me appear Beta. Keeping me safe. I never missed a dose. I was terrified too.

JYP shook his head. “I’m sure you heard we have been trying to find Stray Kids an Alpha full time for months now. I’ve lost count of how many we tried. None could bond.” He began before glancing over at BangChan. “The Stray Kids bond with each other is so strong that there will only be one Alpha for all 8 of them. We just need to find an Alpha that can bond. We’ve tried everything.”

“That’s why you brought him. All that keeping tabs on me, and you didn’t know I take suppressants? No one knows I’m Alpha.” I gestured to BangChan vaguely.

“I brought him because I know you are a fan. I hoped he would help convince you.”

Sly. Sneaky. Underhanded. But he caught my attention, so I guess it worked. Not that I would ever tell him that.

“It didn’t work. I’m not interested. BangChan it was amazing to have you in my living room.” I stood and held an arm out to the door, gesturing them out politely. “Have a nice night and good luck in your search.”

BangChan stood, but JYP didn’t. “I know you’re reluctant to reveal your subgender. I understand-I really do. If I had any other options I wouldn’t have risked coming here and outing, you.”

I stood my ground. Someone as big and powerful as JYP would figure something out. People like him always did. Always came out on top. Annoying fuckers.

AS the seconds ticked by, no one budged. Finally, BangChan shifted forward slightly. “Miss L/n, I know this is a lot. We are asking you to risk a lot.” I sighed and turned to him. “JYP isn’t exaggerating. We have tried 52 Alphas from all over the world over the years and another 15 since we have been on hiatus. We have truly exhausted every option.”

I felt for him. I really did. This law is one of the few that really affect the idol industry that fans absolutely hate. Countless idols petition their government to change the law without success.

“What makes you think I’ll turn out any different than the others?”

BangChan shrugged. “Gut feeling?”

I blinked. Then blinked again. “Gut feeling? You want me to risk my live for a gut feeling?”

“Come meet the others. Stop the suppressants temporarily. A week. We will do everything we can to make sure no one outside of us finds out your subgender. Please.”

It was probably the adoration I had for him, but I could see the separation in his eyes. The fear of being turned down. Of rejection.

Closing my eyes and rubbing my nose, I felt my resolve crumbling. I would feel horrible if I turned him down and my favorite group had to disband. Now knowing if I could have prevented it.

Since I never took it, I had plenty of vacation time saved up. Even on this short of notice my boss would be cool with it.

Plus, BangChan promised to keep my subgender a secret. Well, try as best as he could. Most likely I wouldn’t be able to bond, just like all the others. Then I could move on with my life guilt free and die happy knowing I met and lived with Stray Kids for a week.

“1 week. My subgender remains secret.” I relented.

BangChans chemo signals filled the air with excitement and hope. And just a touch of relief.

I looked at JYP, who was visibly relieved. “By the way, if you really wanted to use Stray Kids to sway me, you should have brought my bias.”

JYP barked a laugh.

“Wait. I’m not your bias?” BangChan asked.

“Nope.” I shook my head while typing an email to my boss on my phone.

“Who is your bias?”

Satisfied with my draft I hit send. “Not telling.”

“Oh, come on! Is it Felix?”

“When does the plane take off?” I ignored BangChans guess. It was wrong anyway.

JYP checked his watch, then phone.

“Han? Everyone loves Quokka.” BangChan kept guessing and I kept ignoring.

“3 hours ish.” JYP finally answered.

Good I had a little time to pack a bag and gather stuff I would need. I nodded and slipped past BangChan to start packing. And also, to get into more suitable clothes. Unfortunately, BangChan followed me into my bedroom.

“Lee Know?”

“Bang, give up, hm? I’m not telling.”

Taglist: @xxeiraxx

[grimmsbride]

USELESS FUCKING JANITOR [ daisuke / reader ]

after a small incident with jimmy, you’re left feeling miserable and a little bad for yourself. luckily a certain useless ray of sunshine pops in just to comfort you

tags / jimmy mentions & him being a dick | ooc characters | reader is a janitor | this fic is kind of messy i apologize | fluff | kissing | two young idiots and their feelings | daisuke can’t stand jimmy | reader lowkey needs to stand up for herself | just fluff nothing more | minor hurt w/ comfort

notes / this originally was gonna be smut but i decided to go a different direction, whilst the next daisuke fic will def be smut. please enjoy and please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes

You hadn’t know the co-captain for long. You didn’t know much about his background, values, or morals. You didn’t know a thing about him, yet you knew enough to steer clear of his path. Something about him was unnerving, and sometimes downright odd. One such being the way he loved to pick people apart. Metaphorically digging his fingers into a person, pulling each little insecurity as if perfect bullets for his emotional ammo. You’ve seen Jimmy do this to Anya, reminding her of her flaws and lack of accomplishments. You wondered how exactly she continued the day as if his words had no effect. Like water off a duck’s back.

Other times it was his captain and even friend Curly. Though far in between. While few times it was Daisuke, the only bundle of optimism left tracking around the ship. You couldn’t deny the affection you were slowly developing for the other. Was it simply you being a hormonal young woman in close capacity with another hormonal young man surrounded by grumpy older people? Or was it something else? Either way you couldn’t deny the way your stomach fluttered each time he would smile at you, wave, or even blink in your direction.

Let alone how he met Jimmy’s usually harsh words with a bright beam of a smile, declaring he’ll do better. Only for the co-captain to sigh and mumble something under his breath, truly bothered by the intern’s existence.

If only you were capable of taking a piece of his personality in times like this.

The day had started off simple, you walking around; earbuds shoved in whilst cleaning up. From dusting, scrubbing, to wiping down surfaces; you were nearly done with your daily duties. Unless of course someone made a mess later, but the others were luckily nice enough to clean up after themselves like the grown people they were.

The last task was to mop, one you dreaded quite a bit. While the clean smell the chemicals left behind were a nice touch, you truly hated how heavy the mop got or how bulky that ugly yellow bucket was. Regardless of your opinion you had a job to do, and fulfill it you would.

The wheels squeaked against the floors as you dragged the large bucket, the chemical-water swishing against the walls of the plastic container. You slowed your dragging as you came across the hallway, humming softly along to the music currently blasting in your ears.

You silently thanked your past self for the taking the time to pack your i-pod, knowing you wouldn’t be able to survive a second on this place without it. And despite Curly’s slight reservations about it — safety and all that — he didn’t bother you much since you got your work done efficiently.

Plunging the long stringed mop into the water, you slowly lifted the heavy weight up and between the unholy yellow contraption. Grabbing the black bar, you pushed, wringing out the excess water for a moment before releasing the mop from the tension. Once satisfied you lifted the mop out, slowly dragging it against the floor in careful strides, assuring each space was throughly cleaned.

In the midst of your focus, and between songs; you couldn’t help but hear a voice you came to enjoy. Your eyes flicked to the side, spotting Daisuke standing in the main lobby, wearing a nervous smile whilst his mentor stood over him.

You couldn’t make out everything they were saying but you got the gist from the expressions plastered across their faces. One of irritation and the other of nervousness. Nine times out of ten Daisuke accidentally messed something up with his overzealous nature once again.

You rose the mop blindly, plunging it into the water just when the man glanced over at you. You spotted a little crinkle of his lips, his once nervous smile growing just a bit cheeky. You could only chuckle softly, lip quickly being bit to silence your laughter. The last thing you wanted to do was get on Swansea’s bad side as well.

Unfortunately, however, with your focus elsewhere you hadn’t even realized how rough you were being with the mop. Attempting to pull it out suddenly grew difficult the moment it got caught on the edge of the bucket, tipping it forward and soon falling.

Just in time for a certain co-captain to be walking by.

All color drained from your face as a loud swear fell from his lips. Your eyes settled onto the man, spotting the darker colored fabric of his uniform. Luckily there was no bleach in the bucket.

Jimmy glared down at his clothes before turning the harsh stare to you.

“Are you incapable of mopping or something?”

You swallowed harshly, gripping the handle of your mop nervously. “I—i’m sorry Jimmy, I..”

“You have the easiest job in this entire place and you still manage to find a way to fuck it up.”

You clammed shut instantly, watching his lips continue to move yet not hearing a thing. You felt raw and open under the harmful speech he uttered, forcing yourself to breathe as not to shed tears. You had done so well before keeping your head down near this man, escaping his radar as not to cause tension.

But of course, your luck ran out in this exact second.

“Useless fucking janitor..” Jimmy finished, walking off, shoes noticeably squeaking with each step. You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your rapid heartbeat slow the moment he was out of earshot. Still, his words rung through your mind, clouding it and soon your vision.

You blinked rapidly, quickly moving to lift the bucket and clean up the mess you created.

All under the watchful eye of a certain someone.

“Hey, what are you listening to?”

Your eyes slowly rose from the floor of your room, drifting over to the young man currently occupying space in the doorway. His lips were curled into a little smile, tapping his fingers against the entryway for a moment before stepping inside fully— the door sliding behind him.

You shrugged a little, waving your i-pod lazily. “Some random song.” You mumbled back, attention going back to the floor as drums and singing filled your ears. Usually you were up for conversation, loving to go on tangents about the music blasting in your ears. Through your talks, it felt as if you were still connecting to your home back on Earth.

Earth.. oh how you wished to go home. Away from that god forsaken co-captain that just loved to ruin another’s day. It’s not like it’s your fault his life is so shitty. He shouldn’t take it out on you or anyone else for that matter.

Stewing in your anger, you hadn’t notice Daisuke come even closer until he was standing right beside you. In a split moment he was dropping to sit beside you, knee grazing your own as he crossed his legs.

“Mind if I listen?”

You thumbed the circle button of the little device, lips pursed stubbornly. No, you can’t listen. I rather stew and rewind that complete embarrassment of a lecture I received hours ago. Was your first thought, ready to leave your tongue as your eyes darted over to the other.

Except you couldn’t. Not when he was smiling like that, so sweetly; eyes crinkled and pretty lips curled. You swallowed silently, a shaky hand lifting to the earbud closest to him and extending it towards the other. His fingers grazed your own as he grabbed the bud gently, coming just a bit closer to you as he tucked the bud into his ear.

Daisuke’s head went slack, hands falling to his lap as the music ran through his ear. It’s been a while since he heard good music like this. Not the typical instrumentals Swansea played — albeit rarely — when they were working. No, this was perfect. A nice reminder to what he has back home.

“Let me ask, do you listen to this music when you’re cleaning up?”

You nodded slowly, moving a bit uncomfortably whilst leaning back into your bed. “Yeah.. I can clean without music but ya know, I prefer it.”

“I get what you mean. Helps you stay focused doesn’t it?”

Daisuke peeked at you, causing your mouth to run dry; deciding just to nod. A silence entered the room shortly after, the two of you simply listening to your music; your lips slowly moving to mouth the lyrics. Within the second chorus of the song, was when Daisuke spoke again.

“What Jimmy said earlier..”

You shook your head, “Daisuke, you don’t have to say anything. I’m not a child, I don’t need to be consoled after being lectured.” You said cynically, eyebrows furrowing just a little as you glanced at anything but him.

But, the young man didn’t let up. Daisuke gently begun again;

“I’m not consoling you. Just.. reminding you how cool you are.”

You snorted at his words, eyes finally stealing away from the floor to glance at him. “You being funny?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow. You watched, in a rather annoyed manner, as the man shook his head— with enough force his earbud slid a bit, causing him to quickly adjust it.

Despite his assurance, you weren’t convinced.. at all.

“I’m a janitor, Daisuke. I highly doubt that’s cool.”

You watched as his eyes rolled, furthering your minor irritation and confusion.

“You’re a janitor.. yeah— but think about it!” Daisuke hummed, flashing another one of his perfect smiles. “Without you this ship would be filthy, smell bad, and maybe even dusty. Terrible conditions for someone to work or live in.”

You glanced away, struggling to keep your lips in a neutral position. “Anyone can clean, Daisuke.”

“Yeah but you’re the one doing it. Not me, Curly, Anya, Swansea— or Jimmy. You are..”

You shivered as you felt gentle fingers on the back of your hand, causing your eyes to blink back to the other occupying the space beside you. Drifting from that sweet smile down to your hand, you noticed his fingers gently tracing your knuckles for a moment. The feeling was.. pleasant, intimate— enough that a heat of warmth flushed from your chest all the way to your cheeks.

“—You’re just as important as anyone else on this ship.” Daisuke hummed, stealing your attention back to his words. With ease the man was curling his fingers around your hand, turning it over to then link his digits with your own.

“At least I think so. And..”

This time Daisuke leaned close, lips just a breath’s away from your ear. “Whatever you splashed on Jimmy just made him smell.. wayyy better.”

You snorted, now all smiles and teeth as laughter escaped you. Your own pleasant sounds mixed with his, the two of you bumping into each other in the midst of your joy. You hadn’t even noticed the squeeze he was giving to your hand, nor the way your head was practically leaning onto his shoulder.

Moments of this bliss passed before you two could slowly settle down, realization of your current positions quickly dawning on you. Your eyes drifted to the hold resting on your lap, the cool sliver ring he wore rubbing against your heated skin. Your eyes rose from the hold and over to the man beside you, spotting him already looking at you.

Again, that same warmth overtook you— the same warmth that has been doing so for months; every time you looked at this bundle of sunshine. Your lips curled in onto themself, struggling to keep eye contact as nothing seemed to swirl in the eyes staring back at you.

Only when they suddenly flicked to your lips did you get even an inkling of what he wanted. Luckily, the feeling was definitely mutual.

Squeezing his hand, you moved closer— Daisuke meeting your advance and pressing his lips to your own. The kiss was slow, full of uncertainty yet passionate enough that same bliss trickled throughout your entire body. His thumb circled your skin, whilst his other hand reached over to gently grab your arm.

Moments passed before the two of you were satisfied, or more like out of breath; pulling away as your chests rose and fell in tandem. Your head lowered to rest against his shoulder, smiling to yourself as his warmth and your music consumed you.

“So uh.. does this mean we’re… together?”

You chuckled softly, turning to stamp a kiss against his neck, feeling him shiver.

“Yes Daisuke.”

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch2

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

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A soothing hot tea was just the thing to calm the nerves. All of your worries melted away with each sip. The amount of drink options that were offered for interviews was quite impressive. That's a rich company for sure.

Plus, the music was very relaxing. You had started to wonder about the perks of working here that the website didn't tell you. All you had to do was keep calm and do well during this interview. You had pracited for hours in the mirror.

You could handle a one on one interview!

Reviewing common interview questions, you noticed more people arrive on the floor. Each took a seat away from you, looking around in awe. In total, including you, there were six people. Not a lot for how big his company was.

"Alright. Everyone is here, please follow me to the interview room." A woman with incredible fashion said.

Your eyes widen in shock as everyone got up and followed her. You were last, feeling your nerves kick in. Arriving at the large room, you felt your fears sink in.

This was a group interview.

You were not getting this job. You couldn't do group interviews. It was hard to speak up and you often got over shadowed by other people. Your stomach was twisting as the urge to puke was starting to form. This was horrible.

But you had to be brave!

"Alright. I'm Lyla, normally I won't be conducting the interview, but there was a last minute emergency so you are stuck with me. Shame for the lot of you honestly." Lyla spoke.

You sat near the back since the others took the closer seats. Trying to control your breathing, you focused on the painting behind Lyla. It was a beautiful water color portrait of a foggy forest after a rainstorm. It was quite pleasant.

"I've read your files. I want your names and why you think you deserve to work here." Lyla said harshly.

You were practicing what you were going to say as everyone went their turn. You were going to be the fourth person speaking. All you had to do was say your name and why you would fit in at Alchemax. That was it. Easy.

"Next."

"H-Hello. I-I'm-"

"My name is Phillip. I believe-"

You tuned the man out, shocked that he cut you. Rolling your lips inward, you tried your best not to cry as you just repeated what you were going to say in your head. It was always like this. You needed to be louder. You needed to stop being shy.

----------

Miguel rested his head against the palm of his hand as he watched Lyla run the group interview. His focus turned to you since it was your turn to speak. It was cute how he noticed you count the people ahead of you and started muttering to yourself.

"H-Hello. I-I'm-"

"My name is Phillip. I believe-"

Miguel scoffed in disgust towards the man. Yes, your voice was low, but you were still speaking. Miguel hated it when people were interrupted. No matter, Miguel had to just stay quiet and let Lyla run this interview.

It was rough. You were being spoken over and interrupted at any given chance. Miguel wanted to see what you were capable of. You sounded so sure of yourself in the elevator. Hell, even shy people need to be given a fair chance.

"Lyla, leave the room for a moment. I want to see something."

-------

Lyla pressed against her earbud, listening to someone from what it seems. You were sunk in your seat, glancing at her.

"Understood." She sighed and released her earbud, "I shall return in a moment. There is a minor set back I must resolve."

With that, Lyla left the room. You gulped since everyone now had their attention towards you. Like wolves glaring down at their prey. You could feel your heart beat in your throat.

"Best if you leave now."

"No, no. She's making us look good."

"She's useless. How she got this far is beyond me."

"A pest if you ask me."

Unable to hold back your tears, you were quick to grab your paperwork. One of the other interviewers quickly forced you back into your seat.

"If you leave, it will look like we bullied you. Just shut up and stay seated. Okay?"

You were hesitant to answer.

"Are you fucking stupid? Do you understand?"

Nodding violently, you quickly wiped your tears. Their grip was harsh against your shoulder. All you wanted to do was leave. Leave and cry. This was horrible. What made you think you had a chance at such a fancy company?

"(Y/N), follow me." Lyla said as she entered the room for a moment.

You were quick to grab your things and leave. Lyla had you follow her to a separate room on the floor. Upon entering, you gasped softly as Miguel sat at a small desk, welcoming you in.

--------

Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched your face light up to a familiar friendly face. He motioned you to sit and offered some water to calm you down. Once you had relaxed a bit, Miguel took a seat back at the desk.

"I should have warned you that it was a group interview." Miguel started. You sipped the water,

"N-No, it's fine. Um...I probably...should have prepared better," You muttered.

Miguel just smiled towards you. You glanced up, making eye contact and gasped. Your cheeks were turning red as you accidently dropped the water.

"Ah! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"It's okay," Miguel grabbed your hand, helping you back into the seat. He grabbed the bottle of water and placed it on the desk, "I'm sure you're still shaken up. You can relax here."

"Thank you....T-To be honest, I...I am a little clumsy too...Especially when my...nerves kick in."

"And that's alright. I want Alchemax to be a comfortable place for my-uh, our employees." Miguel cleared his throat.

Who knows how nervous you would get if you found out that he was the CEO. Your face might turn into a tomato at that rate. Miguel wanted to keep you in the dark just a little bit longer. It was refreshing to speak with someone who didn't know his identity.

"Here. I want you to organize this list of meetings for me during a one week schedule."

Miguel handed you two pieces of paper. He sat at the desk, watching you work as you read everything carefully. This was the first schedule that Lyla ever had to work with and it stressed her out trying to fit everything together.

"Done."

Miguel raised his head in surprise as you finished in a matter of minutes. Looking over the schedule you had made, Miguel was surprised. You had managed to work everything out and even give Miguel more time than Lyla did.

"Impressive." Miguel whispered, "Mind if I give you a few more tests?"

"I don't," You whispered calmly.

The next half hour consisted of you working on Miguel's meeting schedules with shareholders, business partners, etc. He role played some phone calls with you and everything else that Lyla would normally do for him.

Despite your shy personality and clumsy nature, you were perfect for the job.

"I must say (Y/N), I'm impressed." Miguel said with a smile as he grabbed your hand, "Be sure to expect a call from us soon. Allow me to walk you to the door."

Miguel watched as your cheeks started to fluster. You stayed quiet while smiling. Honestly, having you work under him would be a treat. It was going to be nice having someone so cute and shy working right under him.

"Um, thank you, Miguel....For giving me a chance," You whispered, stopping in front of the elevator. Miguel just chuckled lowly,

"No, thank you, (Y/N)."

Waving goodbye towards you, Miguel waited for the elevator to close before frowning. He stomped his way over to the interview room where Lyla and the five fools were. Slamming the door open, Miguel gave them all a glare.

"All of you, out. I don't want a single pathetic lot of you ever stepping near this building again."

"Wow, harsh much." Lyla teased as the interviewees nearly begged for a chance.

"I have who I want as your replacement."

"Oh? Don't sound too excited now," Lyla chuckled. Once everyone left, she glanced at Miguel, "That good?"

"Don't be jealous if I say she is better than you."

"Ohhh, ouch. That hurt," Lyla laughed and nudged Miguel's shoulder, "I can't wait to train her."

--------

You were biting your lower lip as you smiled from ear to ear. You weren't sure how, but Miguel was your saving grace. You couldn't wait to get a call from Alchemax now. Recalling the warmth of his hand against yours, you nearly squealed.

"Hopefully I get to work with him~"

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Next Chapter

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @@reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla

[unknowntoyou2205]

Ain't the life for me

Info: y/n Winchester lived a life away from supernatural life, but one day turns that tale around.

Relationship: Winchester brothers x sister reader

Y/n Winchester yawned as she looked the door behind her. It was late at night and she had just finished her shift at the local diner. For the past 4 years she lived a life away from her brothers, contact was limited, bar the odd call the only way y/n communicated with her brothers was by text. They didn’t see each other but they kept tabs on her. Being the youngest of three, Dean and Sam had always been protective of their little sister.

Growing up with a father who had his vision set on catching a yellow eyes demon, y/n had been the after thought until her brothers found out about her. She was the offspring of an affair, and with her mother having no means to take care of herself, let alone a baby, y/n’s father had found the young babe being sprung into his care. He had Sprung the child onto Dean and Sam, and between the two y/n had become someone who knew she could become whatever she wanted to be. They made sure that she knew the basic self-defense skills to defend herself if needed, but they never forced her to learn how to use a gun or weapons. She told them she didn’t want to be involved in hunting, and they respected that, hiding their relief. She was their baby, and nothing could harm her with them around. Or so they thought.

With her headphones in her ears, y/n couldn’t hear the sounds around her. She kept her vision down, with her hood up to protect herself from the harsh winds that was starting to build up. It was unnaturally cold, but y/n took no notice, instead opting to pull her jacket closer to her body. She only looked up when she bumped into someone. Confusion came over her when she seen the figure of her oldest brother in front of her.

“Dean?” Y/n asked, furrowing her eyebrows gently as she took out an earbud. “Hey kid.” Dean smiled at her, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “What are you doing here?” y/n asked, not used to seeing her brother in person. “Had a case close by, decided to come see you before we left.” Sam’s voice came for behind her, and y/n turned to face her two brothers. “Okay?” Y/n spoke slowly before walking down the road again, hearing two sets of footsteps behind her. “Why don’t we drop you home. Save you walking the streets in the dark.” Dean offered, and y/n smiled slightly. “I am quite capable of walking in the dark, been doing it for years at this stage.” Y/n rolled her eyes at her brothers protectiveness. “Come on, don’t you want to spend time with your big brothers.” Dean smirked, and y/n eyed him slightly. “Okay, if you insist.” Y/n shrugged, liking the idea of some extra time with her brothers.

Dean smiled at her and linked his arm with hers, and y/n couldn’t help but look at him weirdly. He was acting out of character. Dean would never link arms with her, in fact if either of them were to make contact with her, it would be Sam. Dean was the type to kiss her head and wouldn’t make much contact with her unless she needed it. So having him this close, wasn’t something y/n was used to. But than again, maybe 4 years meant he wanted to be close to her while he could. She glanced at Sam as they came to a stop, but took a double take when she seen the car.

“That’s not baby.” Y/n spoke. “We’re not your brothers either.” ‘Sam’ spoke, and y/n gasped as she turned around. “Surprise kid.” ‘Dean’ smirked, grabbing her arms as ‘Sam’ opened the boot of the car. “No please.” Y/n begged, throwing her arms out only for ‘Dean’ to be much stronger. “Too easy.” ‘Dean’ chuckled as he forced her into the boot, ‘Sam’ slamming it before y/n had the chance to get up.

----

Dean groaned as y/n’s answer machine came through for the 6th time. He had been trying to call her for the last half hour, checking up on her to see how she was getting on. Not answering her phone wasn’t unusual, but not answering after the third time was. Y/n had a habit of answering calls eventually, and made it her mission to answer it after multiple calls. So having to attempt to get through to her 6 times, was worrying. Seeing his brothers frustration, Sam sighed.

“How many times have you tried?” Sam asked. “6. I’m worried Sammy, she never goes this long when seeing calls.”

Sam went to reply only for his phone to light up. Seeing y/n’s face pop up, he showed Dean before answering it.

“Hey y/n, you okay? Dean’s been trying to get through to you for awhile now.” Sam asked, and Dean moved closer, indicating for the phone. “Sam.” Y/n cried out, and Sam froze. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” He asked, and Dean whipped his head to face him as he heard his brothers worry. “Sam, Sammy, please help me.” A mock replica voice of his was heard over the phone. “Who is this?” Sam asked, and Dean rushed over, leaning closer to hear. “Why I’m you Sam. At least to y/n I am. Good old big brother Dean is here too, ain’t ya Dean.” “Sure am.” Deans voice was heard over the phone and Dean took a deep breath as he realized. “Shape shifters.” Dean groaned, and Sam nodded in agreement. “I have to say, it was a lot easier to catch the girl than we thought. She went right along until the last minute. You know may be four years since you last seen her but good old baby ain’t hard to forget.” ‘Dean’ spoke into the phone and Dean grabbed the phone from Sam with a hard grip. “I swear to God if you harm her in any way…” “Careful Dean, you’re a long way away from getting here on time should we do anything to sweet old y/n.” ‘Dean’ Spoke back to his double before a cry was heard. “Let her go.” Dean stated harshly, his hand going white around the phone he held tightly. “I don’t think so, I think we’ll play with her for a bit. What you think Sammy.” “Great idea.” ‘Sam’ agreed with his ‘brother’, throwing a smirk at y/n who squirmed under his vision. “I swear to God.” Dean spoke through gritted teeth. “Say hello y/n, it may be the last chance to talk to them.” “Dean, Sam, please, don’t let them hurt me, please.” Y/n cried as ‘Sam’ grabbed her arm tightly while ‘Dean held the phone to her. “Y/n kid just hold on.” Dean stated, looking at Sam as his brother closed his eyes. “Sorry, signal cutting off. Gotta go.” ‘Dean’ replied into the phone before a scream was heard as the phone cut dead.

“Shit.” Dean cursed, throwing a hand through his hair. “We gotta go.” Sam stated, moving to grab baby’s keys.

----

Y/n’s eyes struggled to stay open while she sat in an old wooden chair that felt like it would break at any moment. The shapeshifters of her brothers had long since gone, having gave her a few bruises before leaving her alone. Movement could be heard outside the door every now and then, so y/n knew they weren’t gone far. She was tired and hungry, with her mouth gone dry long ago from lack of water. The taste of blood was evident, and she could feel pain in her shoulders from taking the strain of her tied arms behind her back. She longed for her actual brothers, but she had no idea if she would see them, or their real selves.

Her vision clouded slightly as she fought tiredness, before jumping when the door opened with a bang against the door. Two figures came into view, and y/n could see the Winchester brothers walking in. Noticing the change of clothes, her heart beat increased at the thought of possibly being saved. ‘Dean’ walked over to her and crouched down in front of her.

“Dean?” She asked, hope evident in her voice. “Hey kid.” ‘Dean’ spoke, placing a hand on her cheek before laughing when she leaned into his touch. “Too easy.” He laughed at her as he pushed her face to the side as he got back up, ‘Sam’ smirking as he walked over to them. “poor y/n, can’t tell if her brothers are here or not.” ‘Sam mocked her, and y/n couldn’t help the tear that fell down her cheek as she looked down. “I mean technically they are.” ‘Dean explained, throwing an arm out in her direction. “Just not the nice ones.” He winked at y/n, and y/n grimaced slightly.

The boys heads turned away from her as the sound of footsteps were heard. Y/n looked at the door with hope as a shine of light was seen coming closer to where the trio were. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard the sound of Sam and Dean muttering to themselves, and she let out a shout to gain their attention. Seeing what she was doing ‘Sam’ stalked towards her and grabbed her neck, taking a knife out from his pocket. She could only watch as two figured came in the door, and she smiled slightly as she seen the two faces that appeared.

“Well, look who it is.” ‘Dean’ spoke out, sharing a smirk with the ‘Sam’ over his shoulder before walking towards the two brothers. “Glad you could make it.” “Y/n, you ok?” Sam called out to her, and y/n winched as the hand on her neck tightened slightly. “Oh she’s fine, a little beat up but that does no one any harm.” ‘Sam’ replied to his doubleganger before raising the knife into everyone’s vision. “No.” Dean called out as the knife was brought down, but nothing was felt on y/n’s end. “No, please don’t hurt her, no.” ‘Dean’ mocked the brothers as he turned to face y/n as she was pulled off the chair by ‘Sam’. “Let’s play a game. Hide and Seek. We seek, y/n here hides.” ‘Sam’ smirked, pulling y/n close to him in a side hug. “Winner get’s y/n.” ‘Dean’ winked at her, and y/n squirmed slightly. “To hell with that.” Dean’s gruff voice shouted out, and y/n looked at him. “I just wanna go home.” y/n pleaded, shaking her head as tears welled in her eyes, eyes boring into her oldest brothers. "I just wanna go home." 'Sam' mocked her, pulling her head back.

Dean kept his eyes on y/n’s, his heart clenching to see his little sister so scared. They kept their distance to protect her, but all it did was lead danger to her. The Winchesters had their enemies, he should of known they’d of found their way to their sister somehow. He took a breath in as he nodded at her gently, before moving his gun up and shooting it. Y/n gasped at the loud bang, and felt herself being thrown to the ground suddenly.

“Y/n, move out of the way.” Dean shouted at her, and y/n didn’t need to be told twice.

She made a run out of the room, not turning back as she heard a fight start. Loud breathing was heard repeatedly as bodies were heard colliding. Leaning against the wall, y/n put her hands over her head to cover herself, trying to ignore the loud sounds. When it grew quiet she slowly began to look up, and she gasped as she seen what looked like Sam appear in front of her.

“Y/n.” Sam breathed, moving towards her. “No.” Y/n shouted, not trusting what was real or not. “Hey, hey kid, it’s us. It’s us bunny.” Deans voice was heard as he crouched in front of her, and y/n looked up. “Only one person calls me that name.” Y/n mumbled, recalling her childhood name. “Yeah, only one person would know that.” Dean chuckled lightly, remembering how she got that name. “Oh my God. You’re here, your really here.” Y/n cried, going to reach for Dean, but hesitating slightly. “Didn’t think we’d let them have you did you.” Dean asked, “I mean sure they look like us but are they really as good as the real deal.” Dean joked, causing y/n to chuckle lightly. “Thank you.” Y/n smiled, looking Dean in the eyes. “Hey come here, your old brother needs a hug after four years of purely texts.” Dean smiled, indicating for y/n to come give him a hug.

Y/n giggled lightly before moving to pull Dean into a hug. Dean brought his hand up to cup the back of y/n’s head, kissing her head as she snuggled into his chest. She hadn’t long pulled away from him when Sam moved to pull her to him. Y/n sighed in content, loving being in the arms she used to lay in as a little girl when she couldn’t sleep and needed comfort. The boys laughed happily as y/n moved back to look between the two of them.

“Why don’t we get you home.” Sam stated, cupping y/n’s cheek slightly. “Baby?” Y/n asked, looking at Dean. “Baby’s a keeper y/n, you know that.” Dean told her, and y/n smiled happily.

---

The ride home was quiet, the two boys relieved to have their sister safe, and y/n happy to be in the company of her brothers. No one spoke, but they didn’t need to, their company allowed them to know that each of them were safe. Which is why no one moved when Dean pulled up to y/n’s apartment building.

“Want to stay at mine tonight? I have an extra room and a camp bed I can make up.” Y/n offered, hoping her brothers would say yes. “Sure beats a motel.” Sam looked at Dean after a moment considering. “I get the bed.” Dean hit Sam’s chest before getting out of the car, opening the back door for y/n.

Y/n laughed at the brothers antics as they wrestled to the front door. There live might not be for her, but having her brothers with her was the life she wanted, both real and fake.

[hiraethwa]

to be loved is to be known

four; let me be your sanctuary // a quiet kind of love

<the collection — to be loved is to be known>

pairing. kageyama x reader

cw. angst, timeskip, setter!reader, death, grief, divorce

wc. 12.5k

featured track. 金木犀の夜 by kinokoteikoku // the sanctuary playlist

he saved me in every way that a person can be saved.

there is nothing kageyama tobio could do as your world falls apart and you crumble along with it. nothing but hold the sky from crushing you under its weight with his bare hands and a determination to carve out a safe space for you to fall apart. 

you retreat into yourself, away from the world, leaving behind a ghost of your former self. he holds his breath, for the air feels suffocating without your warmth, your light. he cannot save you, but he can shoulder the weight of the world, shield you from it. 

so he does, taking it upon himself to see that you make it home to japan to see your grandmother before it is too late—handling the calls to your team for your absence, arguing his way through when the coach had the audacity to deny your request, ensuring all the immigration papers are prepared among the most of it. 

booking the seat next to yours and coming with you, because he is worried sick with the state you are in, whether you would be able to make it home safely alone. his coach is not happy about his decision either, but he will deal with it when he gets back.

as long as you make it home. 

he knows just how much she means to you. 

you are quiet, staring out the window at the clouds below you. thirty-five thousand feet in the air and thousands of miles between you and home, you remain silent, even when the air stewardess mistakes you for his significant other. 

there is an emptiness within you, wrapping around you and pulling you into its orbital vacuum, a hollowness he isn’t quite sure how to deal with, whether he should try to chase it away or let it stay, whether you would be alright. 

it is going to be alright, he wants to tell you, i’m here. but he doesn’t, because he isn’t sure if his presence is welcomed if you were fully conscious and capable of going by yourself, if you were not so overcome by grief. 

he knows it well, too well, this feeling that consumes you whole. he recognizes the grief, because he had gone through the same thing a decade ago, when he lost his grandfather and himself to it. 

even now, there are days when he wakes up, the loss suffocating his chest feeling just as fresh as it was yesterday. 

he wants to hold you, tell you that it is going to be fine even if the world falls apart, because he is going to be right there by your side, but that’s his own selfish desire speaking, so he keeps his hands neatly folded over each other in an effort to be respectful of your space.

if space is what you need, then he would be your sanctuary, shielding you from anything the world throws at you. anything, he swears silently.

and then your fingers snake between his own, hesitant and wishful, your hands fitting together perfectly like two puzzle pieces falling into place. he almost chokes on thin air, head jerking towards you, but you were looking out the window into the dark skies still, lost in your own thoughts with your earbuds in. 

if his finger fell over your pulse, he would detect the spike in your heart rate mirroring his own. 

he releases a jagged breath, wondering if you are seeking comfort in him or the other way around. but his fingers tighten around yours instinctively, a quiet reminder that he’s right here next to you. that he’s not going anywhere.

when your head falls on his shoulder, soft and even breaths falling from your mouth, he sighs in relief, carefully adjusting your posture to ease the weight on your neck. 

there is a crease between your brows even in your sleep as you stir frequently, no doubt anxious and restless. he supposes he should be glad that you are getting any rest at all. 

finally, after a long four days of your worrying silence, the crease eases as you push open the soulless white door of a hospital room, even though your hand stills on the doorknob, wavering on the threshold. 

your hesitation confuses kageyama, but he waits for your lead, allowing you to take your time. and then, “obaasan?” 

you breathe the word into the world with uncertainty and a touch of dread. the tension that lines your tired shoulders from a thirteen hour long haul flight slips away as the elderly woman on the bed looks up from her book, a wide smile gracing her face as she holds her arms out to you. “my darling, y/n-chan!”

he watches you transform before him as your grandmother scatters the worry and anxiety that had you in their stranglehold, running to her as though time unwinded and you are nothing but a lost child finding your way home.

you remember a time when she felt like your whole world, filling in for your absent parents, raising you into the person you are today—where your classmates had their okaasan and their otousan, you had your obaasan who loved you and cared for you like her own, made sure you were warm enough when you walked to school, nursing you back to health when you were sick. 

she was always there for you, believing in you, pushing you to go after your dreams even if it meant leaving her behind. 

she still is your whole world, but you are a grown woman now, so much older than you were at eight when your parents left you with her, a cruel reminder of the passage of time as you become aware of how your frame engulfs her smaller fragile one. 

the two of you exchange a flurry of greetings and fret over each other, you lightly scolding her for worrying you so much when the phone call came as she insists that she is doing fine and the doctors are overreacting. 

what you were not prepared for is the way her eyes lit up as she noticed kageyama silently standing by the doorway, bearing witness to the heartwarming bond between you and your grandmother. 

oh. in your frenzied state, it has conveniently slipped your mind that he is here. and now that the haze has lifted and your mind is clear again, a new panic sets in as the realization truly sinks in. 

kageyama is here. with you. in japan. isn’t the italian league still in season? 

you blank out as you search your memories for how you ended up here, coming up short. your grandmother pulls you to her side of the bed where you sit dumbfounded. her hand, aged with wrinkles and dotted with scars from the years of work, stays firmly within your grasp as she gestures for kageyama to approach.

“and who is this handsome young man you finally decided to bring home, granddaughter?”

you fluster, blurting the first thing that comes to mind, “obaasan, this is tobio.” you give her a look with as much discretion as you could, and you know she caught it, but she presses on slyly.

“tobio…? a rather uncommon family name, if i might say, through my years of living.”

gods. “kageyama is his family name. kageyama tobio.” you correct yourself, reddening at your blunder. 

you ignore the burn of his eyes on you, keeping your gaze steady on your grandmother. “well, it’s good to finally meet you, tobio-chan.” 

finally? what does she mean by finally? you have never mentioned kageyama to her before.

“it’s good to see you are doing well too, oumae-san. i have heard a great deal of warm stories about you from your granddaughter.” he bows his head respectfully to the woman who basically raised you by herself. 

“ah, no need for such formalities, young man. you can call me obaasan like y/n does.” she smiles warmly at kageyama. you tighten her hand around hers, frowning at the assumption she is making of the non-existent relationship between you and kageyama.

but you accidentally look at kageyama, your eyes locking with him and you falter at the silent question in them. you turn back to your grandmother who looks at you expectantly.

“obaasan, are you going around claiming strangers as your grandchildren now? i thought i am your favorite and only grandchild,” you pout, wrapping your arms around her childishly to keep kageyama from stealing her away.

“nonsense, there you go acting like a child again. you are an adult now, act like your age,” she chides teasingly, warmth rising to the surface of her eyes as she pats your hand lovingly.

“i will always be a child around you,” you nestle your head into the crook of her shoulder, savoring her presence, her clarity, the safety of having your grandmother back. you know you are acting like a spoiled child, but you could care less of what kageyama might think of you, knowing this moment of lucidity is rare and fleeting. 

tears well in your eyes as you remember the doctor’s words, notifying you of the nearing end. you wish the tears away, sniffling slightly, as emotions overwhelm you without any warning. 

kageyama saves your breakdown from being noticed by her, lightheartedly chiming in, “i suppose i should stick to addressing you as oumae-san before your granddaughter plots my death.”

“ah, tobio-chan don’t mind her, she is quick to jealousy.” she rubs your back soothingly, “always has been, hm?” her arm comes to a rest around your shoulders, giving you a firm squeeze in reassurance. 

it takes every fiber of your being from crumbling in the familiar safety of her arms, resisting the urge to let your shoulders crumple with the onslaught of her recognition. a memory flashes across your mind of a similar setting as she tends to your injuries—a bloody knee from tripping on the uneven roads of the village, only you were young and her embrace engulfed your tiny frame, the only adult shielding you from the unkind world—a cruel reminder of the passage of time.

it demands every single shred of resilience you built up over the years to stand tall in the way of the persistent waves of emotion crashing against you, swallow the tears in your eyes and the tightness in your throat.

you tighten your arms around the only person who has ever loved you unconditionally, only letting go when a nurse interrupts you for their afternoon rounds, albeit reluctantly.

“why don’t you two go get something to drink in the meantime? you must be tired from your travels.” your grandmother pats your arm reassuringly.

you try to return a smile, but it comes out all tight and tense. “we will be right back, okay?” your assurance sounds more for yourself than anyone else. 

wait for us. it goes unsaid. 

“come on,” kageyama guides you out of the room with a hand on your back, a quiet reminder that you are not alone in this, leading you down multiple hallways and corners. you lose track of them as your thread of control snaps, spiraling into devastation. 

“i can’t do this.” before you know it, you are breaking down in front of a vending machine with a tight fist on the sleeve of his jacket. “gods, gods. i can’t do this, kageyama.” 

the lights are blindingly bright and blurry in your vision. uneven breaths leave your quivering lips as you pant, grabbing at your chest where it hurts. and gods, does it hurt. your ribcage heaves under pressure with each inhale, this thing in it is all you could feel, all you could focus on. 

“hello, is this oumae y/n?” 

“yes, this is her speaking.”

“i’m calling about your grandmother, oumae fumiko. i am afraid i have bad news. she was admitted to the hospital yesterday, and her dementia has progressed much faster than we anticipated. she has already lost too much weight from losing appetite, which is typically a sign of end stage dementia. we are doing all we can for her, but i am afraid all we can do at this point is making her as comfortable as we can.”

the phone call repeats itself in your head again, a record broken on loop, holding you captive, unable to escape its claws that sink deep in your chest, injecting devastation and hopelessness straight into your veins, into the organ that keeps you alive. 

a minute. 

a minute was all it took to tear your world apart. 

you sink to your knees as ugly sob after sob finally rips free from your throat, grieving the inevitable loss of your only constant. multiple streaks of warmth streak down your cheeks, as you cry out, hands finding hold on anything you could to keep you anchored as the world spins around you. 

“w–we were supposed to have m–more time.” you hiccup, leaning into him, your anchor. the thing in your chest—pain, grief, desolation, everything—feels too much to bear, and you wish you could pour it out. but it stays stubbornly, even as the tears and cries are released from you. 

kageyama’s own heart breaks alongside yours, knowing what the loss of your grandmother would take from you. your heart wrenching sobs tug at his heartstrings, reminding him of his own loss that suddenly feels as fresh as yesterday, only it had been more than a decade ago. 

his breath staggers with yours, selfishly collecting your frame into his arms after a lengthy debate with himself. he rubs the back of your head awkwardly as you allow yourself to give in to the flurry of emotions that you had kept at bay since you received the call.  

he internally scolds himself for the satisfaction that settles in with the knowledge that he is the one you sought comfort in. how selfish—but how could he deny you comfort when there is no other shelter for you to take refuge in?

so he allows it, his hand taming the strands of hair on the back of your head, fingers gently running through the knots from lack of care. you bury your face further into his chest, hands bunching up the front of his sweater. 

“i know.” 

kageyama wraps his other arm securely around your shaking shoulders, hoping it gives you some sense of comfort. he slows his breaths down, gradually lengthening each inhale and exhale, waiting for you to match his own before continuing. 

slowly but surely, your sobs grow silent, and your breathing evens out with his coaxing. 

he holds his breath when he feels you shifting in his embrace, suddenly aware of the proximity between you.

he licks his lips nervously, unsure of how you would react as you lift your head to meet his eyes. you blink, visibly vulnerable and he chides himself for his actions again. but was he supposed to let you suffer and not do anything?

“sorry.” the apology leaves his lips roughly before he could think about it, moving to release you from himself, only to stop abruptly as he notices your face scrunching with distress.

“don’t go.” you dip your head, arms snaking around his back, enveloping him in your embrace firmly as you nestle back into his chest. 

his heart jumps, mouth running dry, but he manages to reply, “i’m here as long as you want me to stay.”

“stay forever,” you mumble, the words coming out muffled, failing to reach his ears. 

“hm?” the sound rumbles in his chest, echoing through your body pressed against his, starkly reminding you that everyone has their own path to walk, overlapping for a short moment in the march of time, forever destined to walk the path alone. 

you cannot keep pretending this could be forever. friends no longer encompass the feelings that took on a life on its own for him, threatening to burst into fireworks and alert everyone of just how much you love kageyama tobio. 

and it hits you then, hard. the repressed feelings jumping at the moment of weakness, springing free from the carefully locked box you forcefully shoved them in. 

it punches the air out of you, the enormity of your love for him, rivaled only by your love for your grandmother. leaving you gasping for breath, for air that could not come quick enough.

because one way or another, you are going to lose them both. 

when you return, the nurse coming out of the room informs you that your grandmother has taken her medication and is resting for the night. you note the sympathetic look in her eyes and her thinly pressed lips. 

oh.

kageyama tries to protest, to which you give a firm shake of your head, telling him in a quiet voice that you are tired and that you wish to go home. 

home. is it still home when she is no longer there?

the house stands exactly the same as you remember up to every tile in the slanted rooftop. the two missing tiles in the left corner from accidentally hitting a volleyball into it as a teenager, the mismatched wood colors from a makeover that was never completed. the front door that needs a little coaxing to open from its misaligned frame.

it’s just as you recall. the corners of your lips quirk a little as you turn the doorknob, pushing in and up at the same time and the door creaks open with no resistance. 

the last standing testament of your grandparents’ love, this house that has bore witness to it all. 

you wonder what it is like to have experienced a love so whole, so overflowing that a mere fifteen years shared is enough to sustain her through forty more surrounded by his memories. 

the thought brings a fresh wave of tears that prickle at your eyes and over the brim. because soon that would be you trying to cope in a world without her in it. 

how did you do it, obaasan? you already want to crawl into bed and stay there forever, hide from a world where you could not reach her whenever. 

“you still have her.” kageyama says gently, reminding you that you are not alone. you sniffle, quickly wiping at your cheeks, the corners of your traitorous eyes.

“sorry, i just– my emotions are all over the place.” you take your shoes off, placing them in the open rack in the entrance and moving over so that he could follow suit. “make yourself at home.”

you miss the conflict in his eyes, his struggle on whether to push you to open up or allow you more space. the frustration that wells up within him, hating that you don’t trust him enough to lean on him when you so clearly needed someone earlier, that you have shut yourself off again. 

unreachable. untouchable. 

you lead him past the living room, into the kitchen, softly pointing out the cabinets for cups, utensils, snacks, tea, anything he might need before heading up the stairs. the eighth step on the way up groans underneath your weight like it always does, and you let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding in. 

kageyama has an unreadable expression as you show him to the spare bedroom that your parents use when they deigned to show up, the number of times of which you could count on all ten of your fingers and toes. 

his lips part, a quiet storm brewing inside his mind as he struggles to find the right words. 

“do you need anything else?” you ask. 

he hates this. he hates the feeling of helplessness as you struggle alone to stay afloat and all he is allowed to do is watch you edge closer to the precipice of despair and wait for you to reach out. 

“you are not alone in this, i am here. if you need anything,” he swallows, “anything at all. just remember i am here.” 

“it’s fine, i am used to it.”  

“are you? i have gone down this road before. keeping everything bottled up,” he shakes his head, “there is only darkness and pain waiting for you at the end of it.”

“i have made my peace with it a long time ago, but facing it now, this goodbye seems more permanent than i ever imagined.” 

“it gets easier, i promise.”

you turn away so that he does not see the shimmer in your eyes. “that is also what i am afraid of.”

you send a silent prayer to the gods the next day when you find her awake and lucid. 

and the next day. 

and the next. 

they are short, fleeting moments. sometimes minutes, sometimes up to a few hours. each time she remembers you, you breathe a sigh of relief. each time she forgets, kageyama is there to catch it first. 

in some way, he became your safety, your shield. 

your grandmother is enjoying herself recounting your childhood stories to kageyama, who listens raptly, nodding along to each sentence. you protest weakly, correcting her dramatisations of the mischief you were up to. 

“she is always so full of energy, running around the fields, chasing after grasshoppers in the grass, scaring away the birds that came to our home. one time, she climbed up the big tree in the backyard to chase after a cat that conveniently left you stuck up there crying and i ended up having to ask our neighbor to rescue her.”

“obaasan, but i did catch the cat.”

“who scratched you on your nose, and hopped off the tree gracefully, did you forget? i was watching it all from the kitchen window, child.” she taps your nose teasingly.

“and your teacher, she asked you to try out for volleyball because of that restlessness and that mind of yours, hoping you would get into less trouble, and what did you manage to do? break our roof.”

“it was two tiles, obaasan! you are overexaggerating everything.” you pout at her. 

the two of them exchange a glance and burst out laughing at you. oh, so that is how it is. 

and despite the imminent end that hangs over your head, you smile. 

your apprehension begins to fade as the days pass with laughter and happiness next to the two people you loved most. the selfish hope that the end will be painless for both you and her begins to grow. that you would not have to live through the pain of her forgetting you again. 

it is easy to pretend like this could be forever. 

but forever falls apart. it always does.

you grew complacent, forgetting how unpredictable dementia is. it hits you when you least expect it, reminding you of your own mortality as helplessness floods your veins, freezes you in place, as you stare at the blank face of the woman who raised you.

the lines of worry that formed over the years, the smile lines that run along the sides of her nose to her mouth, the curve of her nose that you inherited—everything was familiar as your mind remembers. 

everything but the lack of recognition in her eyes as she stared back at you. 

your play pretend world comes crumbling down around you. there it is. the dementia that takes her away from you.

and you had stayed up all night makes her favorite stew in hopes that she would eat more than a few bites.

your fragile heart plummets as kageyama steps up from behind you, hand sliding into yours to take the soup flask from your shaking hand. oh, you had not even noticed that you had started to shake. 

your eyes are still pinned to her, frozen in place, watching as her eyes flick over to kageyama, and then—recognition dawns on her, a wide smile appearing on her face as if she is the sun incarnate.

“hatsu?”

a smile reserved for the warmth that was taken away from her too soon, too young. a smile reserved for oumae hatsu, the first and only love of her long life. 

kageyama startles, looking to you for help, worry evident in his dark eyes as they roam over your tightly clenched fists. 

“she thinks you are my grandfather who passed away when my father was in junior high.” you press your lips into a thin line, hurt fresh on your mind that she does not remember you. the last thing you want to do is push him to do something he is uncomfortable with, but his eyes soften, understanding shining through them. 

it makes you swallow hard. this side of him that somehow no one else sees is the reason you gave over your heart unconsciously, the reason your heart throbs in pain alongside the hurt you feel from your grandmother. 

if only he knew…

“go ahead, if you want to talk to her.” you glance at the flask of stew, a sad smile ghosting over your lips. “i will head home first.”

“you don’t want to stay?” he catches your wrist as you turn to leave.

“no.” you glance back at her, at the frown marring her face. “no, it hurts us both more if i stay.”

kageyama hesitates, wondering if he should return with you. but your grandmother looks at him expectantly, and you give him a small reassuring shove towards her before disappearing from the room. 

all right. 

he sets the thermos on the overbed table, unscrewing the cap and handing over a spoon to the elderly woman smiling warmly at him. “here, y/n made your favorite stew.”

she scrunches her nose in confusion at the name but takes the utensil regardless, sniffing at the smell of the food before tasting it. 

“it tastes just like how you used to make it.” she looks at him, spooning another mouthful of stew into her mouth after lightly blowing on it. he takes a seat at the uncomfortable plastic chair next to the bed, giving her a small smile, allowing the silence to stretch as she eats a good amount of the food.

at least your efforts did not go to waste. his heart pains for you, thinking of how hurt you must have felt when she did not remember you. he knows for a fact that if it was him and his grandfather he would have broken down on the spot. 

how much have you had to go through by yourself all this time?

“do you remember this time of the year?” she is looking out the window at the budding cherry blossoms, set to bloom early this year compared to past years. “it should be right around the time you asked me to marry you in a few weeks.”

a smile blooms across her aged face at the memory, and kageyama could see the features you inherited from her, the same slanted nose and the almond shaped eyes that sparkles with happiness. 

“we would get married around summer, the season you were named after. aptly, because you are the only person who managed to melt through the ice i wrapped around myself. we would have our perfect baby son just a year later.”

kageyama wants to interrupt her, say that he is not who she thinks he is, but he could not bear to cut her happy memory short.

she laughs at the memory. “he is the cutest baby i have ever seen in my life. do you remember how soft and caring he was about us as a kid? always worrying past his age for our wellbeing. sometimes i was not sure if we were his parents or the other way around.”

“sometimes i would wonder if we were raising him right, if it was our fault that he became the person he is today because we did not give him enough safety as a child,” she takes his hand in hers, voice thick with emotion. “you promised me we would grow old and haggard together, but the gods took you from me too soon. i tried so hard in the days after to reach out to him, but i failed him as his mother and his only remaining parent. i am sorry, i promised you i would keep our family safe after you left, but i failed. i am lost without you.”

a tear rolls down her cheek as she sniffles. “there was so many times i wanted to give up, but it would all the worth it because i get to be with you soon.”

his hand tightens around hers, as he gives her a tight smile, a small voice at the back of his head telling him that now is the time to free her from being trapped in a past filled with pain.

but she suddenly withdraws her hand, features shifting into a distrustful frown. “who are you?” 

not allowing him a moment of explanation, she begins to shout for the nurse, getting upset over his presence in her room. he quickly follows her wishes, stepping out as a nurse comes rushing in to check on her. 

he did not even realize how high his heart rate rocketed over the last minute of whiplash, trying to catch a breath with his head in his hands on the bench right outside the room, a question nagging at the back of his mind.

how long have you had to go through by yourself?

kageyama finds you at your grandmother’s home as promised, staring absently at the cup of tea in your hands, sitting cross legged under the kotatsu. he suspects that the cup has long since turned cold, but he does not bring it up. 

“how are you feeling?” 

“i am fine.” your reply comes a few moments later, as though you took a while to register that he is talking to you, to remember to respond. 

clearly not fine.

“come on, oumae. talk to me.” 

“i said i am fine.” your face scrunches as you take a sip of the tea, setting it back down on the table and pushing it away from yourself. clearly cold.

“don’t shut me out.” he knows he promised you time and space to figure it out on your own, but worry gnaws at his mind persistently, and the truth is he is afraid that he would be too late. 

“why did you come? was it pity?”

“no, how could you think– no. i came because you were hurting, and i wanted to be here for you.” his heart is lodged in his throat, and he wishes he could hand it to you on both hands on the slightest chance that he could take on your pain for you. 

“you shouldn’t have.” the immovable mask slips back in place on your face. “i need to learn to live by myself again. i can’t rely on you forever.”

he feels an urge to leap across the table and shake the truth out of you. it is the grief speaking, molding your helplessness into anger, into doable actions. he would let you draw blood with your knives, words sharpened with the intention to cut him, if he had not glimpsed the momentary pain flashing across your face. 

“why? that has never been a problem before, even before– is it because of what i said in the interview?” 

“yes.” you say, but the split second of hesitation gives you away. “we are just friends, and i cannot keep counting on you to be around forever. so yes, i need to remember how to do this alone. i can’t keep running to you whenever i have a problem.”

“that’s not–” he begins, confusion swarming his mind from your explanation.

“i cannot keep losing people i care about, tobio. there is only so much of me that i can lose until i am gone.” you cut him off, stumbling to your feet, trying to shake off the numbness that collected in your limbs. 

and then you are gone. 

the dots do not connect, but… should he respect your wishes and go?

he exhales, rubbing his hand over his face and pushing his hair back from sticking to his forehead, staring out at the backyard where the first of the cherry blossoms have bloomed on the giant tree overlooking the house. 

kageyama pretends not to notice your swollen eyes the next day when he steps into the kitchen. he himself is not any better off with the heavy circles under his eyes from tossing and turning all night. 

something about your last conversation is bothering him, and it is all he can think of when he closes his eyes and try to sleep. but he does not mention it and neither do you. 

there is a strange distance that separates him from you—awkward but not entirely unpleasant. an odd harmony that feels both on and off, like a light switch being forced to balance between the two.  

although, the question itches at his lips. do you want him to go? he lets it weigh heavy on his chest because he is a coward who is afraid to know your answer. 

to no surprise, your grandmother picks it up, waving him over for questioning when you step out to speak to the doctors. 

“how is she holding up?” she must have seen the hesitance in his eyes, continuing, “i forgot again, didn’t i? and she was here to witness it again that time.”

she knows? “i don’t know, but…” he trails off, unsure of what to tell her. she gestures for him to go on. “not too well, i think.”

“she has gone through too much. maybe i didn’t do that good of a job in raising her.” 

he scrunches his nose with disbelief. “you did great, trust me. she is like nothing short of the greatest person i know. she is stubborn but forgiving and kind, passionate to a fault but it’s one of the things i love about her. she does not like to burden others with her own problems, even though she is always thinking about what they might feel or need. sometimes i wish she would–” 

he stops short as he catches the knowing look on her face. fuck. 

“well, did you tell her all of that and more? i am guessing you didn’t because you would be together by now if you did.” 

“she doesn't feel the same way, obaasan. who am i to force it?” he ignores the pang of hurt that echoes in his chest as he recalls your words from last night.

“kuroo tetsuro never saw past her brilliance that captivated everyone. never once did he bother to look past the warmth she radiates to the people around her, or the cheeriness that she wore for so long it became natural. the sun burns only as long as there is something left to burn.” her eyes are hard now, glittering like gemstones, as she holds him to an unspoken scale.

“but you, you have always seen it, haven’t you? you are not blinded by her brightness like the others are. you love her the way my hatsu loved me, like she is the sun and the air, and life itself. so let me ask again, tobio-chan, have you told her?”

“i–” he get interrupted by her clearing her throat, looking in the same direction as her only to find you walking back in, wearing exhaustion and sorrow like a second skin. 

heartbreaking but still, hauntingly beautiful. tragically poetic. 

he feels like an ass for not being able to tear his eyes from you in a time like this, when you are surrounded by the promise of loss and grief. 

somehow you manage to pull together a smile for your grandmother, and there. he sees it, the last of the fuel burning up behind your eyes. 

your lips move at a rapid pace, though he is too deep in his thoughts to hear the conversation between the two of you. her words echo in his mind—the sun burns only as long as there is something left to burn. 

he thinks about her question and your admission that he should not have come. no, he has not told you, but it does not matter. not when you drew that line so firmly defining where you ended and where he began. even if the words don’t quite fall into place when played over and over.

i cannot keep counting on you to be around forever. why not? he had wanted to ask. why not? he would be there whenever you call for him, in any way you would take him, even if it is just friends.

have you told her? he did, he wanted to scream. he did, and it did not matter. 

unless— and suddenly everything clicks in place. unless you had not heard his not-so-secret confession on national television. but still, he must be missing something, something that triggered the change of distance between you?

“tobio-chan,” your grandmother calls, noting the way he immediately looked for you. “she left already. i told her i have something to talk to you privately about.”

“do you think i stand a chance? i–if i confessed to her, that is. not right now, of course, maybe after…” he trails off, gesturing at nothing in particular.

“stand a chance? no.” he flinches as her words send his precarious hope plummeting over the self-imposed cliff. “have a chance? yes. she looks at you the way i look at my husband. and don’t wait on my account because who knows? you might be the reason she survives my death.”

“you think she might not recover when you–” he bites his tongue, finding it disrespectful to discuss her own death to her face, even if she knows it is coming.

“it’s alright, you don’t have to dance around it. i know death is coming for me. my hatsu has been visiting me more and more in my dreams, sometimes even when i am awake. but yes, us oumae’s love hard, and we have a hard time letting go. always has been, always will be.” 

the knowledge bears down on him. he thought he understood how important your grandmother is to you, but it was tainted by his own experience of losing his grandfather. it is all of that, but different, more.

learning about your past makes him uneasy because it feels wrong that you had to go through so much as a child. because as cold as his parents were, he had his grandfather and his sister. but listening to your grandmother recount what you were forced to live through—a messy divorce and being sent away because of a stepmother who disliked you, with your grandmother as your only support.

he didn’t know his heart could break further for you, but it does.

her last words accompany him on the quiet drive back to the farmhouse.

“when she told me she was marrying kuroo, i had hoped that he would prove me wrong, that he could love her the way she deserves to be loved. then the call about the divorce came, and i was angry at the gods for being so careless with her heart. but the day you walked into this room, i knew. my prayers were finally being answered.”

his gaze roams to you from time to time. there is something lodged in his throat, he thinks, the vastness of his emotions, or the thought of laying it bare before you makes him want to jump out of the moving car. 

he struggles to find the words to describe it, any way to start a conversation like this, and fails terribly. all the progress he made in the decade decides to leave him, leaving him a fresh first year too caught up with his own demons to convey the thoughts running through his mind. 

you disappear up the stairs before he could even get a word out. fuck. always too late.

it is not until later that night that kageyama finds his opening as he is looking for a midnight snack in the dark kitchen. he catches movement outside the house out of the corner of his eye, chalking it up to the trees swaying in the wind. 

he shakes his head. but—there. a small movement illuminated by the soft moonlight catches his eye again. his heart picks up pace as he pads closer to the window that overlooks the backyard, suddenly finding it rushing up his throat as he realizes what or more specifically, who it is.

there you are, all huddled up in a chair with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. 

he licks his lips, wetting his dry mouth, as he finds his heart rate accelerating for an entirely different reason. 

there is no better time than the present. a voice reminds him, though he could not put a face to the voice.

he knows that, and yet he lingers by the back door, fingers hovering over the switch for the lights in the backyard. an unknown source of courage surges through him, nudging him onwards. 

kageyama slips out the door, footsteps swallowed up by the wind rushing over and around him. 

the thundering in his heart never pauses, even as he takes in your tired features carved in with sorrow. your cheeks are gaunt although it has barely been a week. he realizes that it is not only his own desire and your grandmother’s encouragement leading through what he is about to say, but also fear that you would not be able to find your own way back. 

he would light the way home for you, if you allowed him to. 

“do you remember what you said to me on the day we first met?” he curls up in the chair next to you, following your line of sight to the moon hanging low in the sky. 

“wha–” you stop yourself short as you decide to go along with it, not knowing where this is leading. curiosity prickles at the back of your mind, prompting you to search through your memories. “i don’t know. i think i said something embarrassing and fangirled too much that i blocked it from my memory.”

“really? i didn’t peg you for a fan.” he jokes. 

“well i didn’t peg you for a joker either, but here we are.” you shoot him a deadpan look. “what kind of embarrassing things were they?”

“nothing embarrassing. though you did call my serves godly.” he smiles lightly while meeting your eyes. 

your eyes fly wide open, mouth falling open in indignation. “i did not. no way in hell.”

“oh, but you did. you took me by surprise with the sincerity behind your words, especially coming from the best setter in the v-league.”

“oh gods. you are being serious. i did really say that, didn’t i? oh.” you bury your face in your hands, feeling a rush of heat to your cheeks.

the light mood sours as soon as your mind drifts off from the conversation, turning your expression somber. “i know you are trying to cheer me up, but you don’t have to.”

“i’m not– i’m not here out of pity or sense of duty. i’m here because i am selfish. because i could not bear to see the woman i love alone in her grief, even though you tried to put distance between us. because you are my heart and i cannot live without it.”

“what?” your head whips towards him, five different thoughts flying through your mind in an instant. he licks his lips in nervousness, wishing he could hear your thoughts in that moment. “but– you said– in that interview, you said we are just friends.”

in the interview — he said what? he could only assume that it’s the same interview that he is thinking of, though he draws a blank on those words leaving his lips. 

“you said we are just friends in that post-game interview against milano. that pretty interviewer was all over you too, did you forget?”

did he say—oh. he remembers the question now. he did say that, but it came from a place of respect for you, not wanting to assume things by himself.

“i have never seen you smile at anyone the way you smiled at her. i don’t understand. how could it be me that you–” you stop abruptly, as though you could not say the word love. 

the urge to throw someone (mostly hinata) flashes through his brain, and this time it’s directed at you. he crosses his arms, frowning at you, the absurdity of your misled beliefs forcing a laugh of disbelief from him. 

“where do you want me to start? i love that you are intelligent and witty and don’t hesitate to put me in my place if i say something stupid.”

“are you a masochist?” you interrupt. 

he frowns harder at you before continuing, “i love that you are kind and strong-willed–”

“you mean stubborn.” you mutter. 

“would you please let me finish?” he sighs exasperatedly, pointer finger massaging the crease between his brows. you relent, settling back in your seat while pouting. “and you look so gods-damned cute when you do that, it takes all my willpower to not kiss you. if you asked me to fetch the moon, i would do it in a heartbeat.”

he could go on forever if he wanted to, though words would fail to accurately capture the love that blooms far and wide within him. that is, if he could even begin to find the words that have collectively decided to leave him. 

kageyama tobio has never been good with words anyway so he settles for something simple as he turns his body to face you fully. 

“it has always been you. from the first time i watched you play, from the first day we met, even when you were still with him, it has always been you for me. even with a whole continent between us, when i thought i should let you go, it has always been you.” 

he searches your eyes for any hints of emotion, wishing to run his hand over yours and soothe your trembling fingers, but he keeps it to himself instead of intruding in your space. “i’m sorry for dumping this on you at such a time, but obaasan–”

“but the interviewer, you smiled at her like– i don’t know–”

“like she was my sun?” you nod. he could not help himself then, as he reaches over and flicks your forehead lightly. “she asked me about you. i was thinking about you, my sun.”

“i am not– you could have chosen someone else. anyone else.” your nails are carving crescents into your flesh now with how tight you are digging into your forearm. “someone who is stable, not a divorcee. someone who knows what family feels like, who could give that to you. someone who can give you everything they have. someone whole.”

oh. 

he feels your insecurity cutting into him like shards of glass, not only because he was hoping to hear a different answer—he had expected you to reject him—but also because this is the first thing that comes to your mind. 

that you are worried over what you can give him. what he deserves.

what about you?

“i am not asking for anything in return. i only wanted you to know that someone else in this world loves you besides your obaasan.”

“that’s stupid. everyone expects something in return. love is always conditional.”

“not mine.”

“then you are stupid for giving it so freely.” the look in your eyes hardens as you stare back at him unflinchingly, unwilling to back down. 

“you–” he bites back the ugly retorts that rise in himself reflexively as his patience finally gives under your resolve. he grits his teeth, spitting out the words flatly, “well for the record, i think it’s stupid too.”

kageyama regrets it almost instantaneously as hurt flashes through your eyes so quickly he thinks he imagined it. 

but it is not until he slides down against the shut door of the guest room that he realizes he never got an answer from you. though he thinks he has a good idea of what it is. 

you almost regret the hurtful words you flung at kageyama last night. 

if you are being honest, you didn’t quite understand what you are trying to achieve with that either, going to war with yourself over whether you should accept or reject it. his love. as if it is yours to decide what to do with.

you had done neither, pushing him away by insulting the very love he offered to you on both hands, no better than the people you compared him to. 

for the record, i think it’s stupid too. 

it hurts to breathe when you hear his voice saying those words, worse than stepping on shards of broken glass—his heart that you broke so carelessly, but you deserve it. the pain and the disappointment when, not if, he sees you for who you truly are and falls out of love. 

it is bound to happen, and it’s better for both of you that it happens sooner rather than later. 

the sooner he moves on from you the better, you know that. 

you expected the pain that followed, but the flare of hope in the midst of the disbelief, that had been real too. the brief glimmer of a promised heaven only serves to drive the wedge deeper in your bleeding heart in your fall from grace. 

he probably thinks the worst of you now. you would not be surprised if he decides to take it all back. a logical person would.

and kageyama tobio is nothing if not logical. 

still, reality pierces through the useless wisps of spider silk you have carefully woven around yourself over the years to hide away from the world. his absence at breakfast slices through the layers easily, leaving you alone to ignore the pang of hurt that springs up in your chest whenever your eyes wander to the empty seat in front of you. 

even your grandmother has decided to side with him after taking one look between the two of you, chastising you for your stubbornness the moment kageyama is out of earshot. 

of course she had a hand in it. you sigh, scooting closer to her bed as you peel an apple while she continues to scold you with disappointment. 

“obaasan, we accept the love we think we deserve.” you try to explain your side. “kageyama, he’s not like me. he’s the north star in the night sky, burning bright and unbridled. i won’t taint it.”

“are you blind? you are perfect for each other. and you, you deserve everything, the whole world at your feet, so don’t even go about thinking of rejecting him because you think you don’t deserve him.” she trains her eyes on you, staring you down. “if you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for me.”

“obaasan, there is nothing i will not do for you, except this. i can’t, i am sorry.” 

“you are stubborn, like your father.” she huffs, evidently upset about your refusal to budge on the matter. “go, i don’t want to see you until you make the right choice.”

“obaasan–” you protest weakly.

“go.” you turn your face away to hide the brimming tears, the sting of betrayal that she chose him over you when she is the one who was supposed to stand by your side when everyone is against you.

you stumble into a wide-eyed kageyama on your way out. he must have heard some parts of your conversation. you give yourself the time to think too much into it before you are pushing yourself away from him and leaving.

you hear his voice projecting from the open backyard before you see his figure approaching the garden by the side of the house. 

“hey, you doing alright?” his hands are in his pockets, shoulders relaxed as though what happened the other night is long behind him. 

that’s good, you remind yourself. 

you shrug in response, not knowing what to say when you don’t know how to feel about it yourself. “i don’t know.” 

the hand trowel hits the hard soil again as you pour your energy into loosening the garden bed instead of sorting through your feelings. useless things, bringing only turmoil and confusion. 

stab, push, pull. repeat. you lose yourself in the rhythm before you remember to speak up. “she calls me stubborn, but isn’t she the same? it’s been a few days and she still refuses to see me. and for what? it’s like, does she not realize the line between the dead and the living that is about to separate us?”

“all she cares about is tobio-chan this, tobio-chan that. who is her real grandchild?” you complain, pointing the trowel at him in an accusatory manner and narrowing your eyes at him. “traitor.”

you ignore the pounding of your heart, the dull throb that runs through it at his proximity, at the feigned normalcy between you. 

“you’re upset because you know she is right.” your jaw falls open at his straightforwardness. oh, so we are not dancing around it anymore. “we accept the love we think we deserve, i think that is what you said to her.”

“eavesdropping is dishonorable.” you hiss back at him. why does it feel like the tables have turned? 

“why are you running away?”

“i am not running away from anything. i didn’t accept your confession, or whatever that was.”

“but you didn’t reject it either,” he raises an eyebrow at you, arms crossed over his broad chest. the innocent action sends your poor heart into a gallop, temporarily forgetting the pain that has been inflicted upon it by yourself. “you are easy to read when you are jealous, did you know that? the expression on you when you complained about your grandmother liking me too much, it is the same one you had when you were asking me about the interviewer.”

he leans in and steals the trowel from you, continuing your forgotten task, satisfaction written all over his face for leaving you speechless. 

“you are reading too much into it.” you breathe once you recover your bearings. “give that back.” you make a grab for the tool in his hands.

“tell me i am wrong then. that everything i have seen and heard that seems to point to the same answer is wrong.” he circles your wrist with his left hand, tugging at you gently. “tell me.”

you blink at the burning touch setting your skin on fire, the overstrained heart stumbling and stuttering in your ribcage. “you said you didn’t need anything from me.”

“i did. but that and this are two completely different things. i am fighting alone here, but if there is even a shred of you that wants us, i will keep fighting for you. so tell me to leave you, y/n. tell me to pack my bags and go back to italy. tell me to go and i will.” 

leave. the simple one-syllable word refuses to vibrate in your vocal cords no matter how hard you try. your mouth is open, ready to push the sound through, but nothing comes out. there is warmness on your cheek—tears, you realize.

“if you want us, then why are you fighting so hard against it?” his voice almost sounds pleading.

we accept the love we think we deserve. and you are kageyama tobio. 

and then that burning touch is on your face, wiping your tears away so tenderly it almost convinces you that you are worth it all. 

“then i will make sure you know you deserve the universe.”

realization dawns on you as you stare after his retreating figure—you had said those words out loud. your body releases the shuddering breath you didn’t know you were holding, betraying your warring inner thoughts. 

he is still fighting for you. despite your every effort to chase him away. 

kageyama tobio must be your blessing from the gods, considering he managed to change your stubborn grandmother’s mind. perhaps your greatest blessing because it was only through his peacemaking that you were able to spend her final days with her. 

you let out a huff at the thought that she would be stubborn enough to keep you away even on her deathbed. 

it was all blurry in your memory, but it had been like any other day, or at least you think so. everyone was prepared for the day to come, the doctor and the nurses, kageyama, you. she continued to grow weaker, getting more tired, mistaking people for your grandfather, and with it she slipped deeper into the holds of dementia, forgetting.

you had braved through it, the days when she would not remember you, ignoring your instinct to run away and protect yourself from getting hurt, knowing you would never get a chance to see her much longer. 

but on that final day, she was sitting in the chair overlooking the gardens, turning to look at you when you entered as if she had been expecting you—waiting to say goodbye to you. 

not long after that she was gone. and all you can remember is the shock that sank into your skin, disbelief as her warm calloused hands turned cold. hands prying you away from her and with it, the part of you that she once commanded space in. 

you remember the emptiness that came creeping in with the realization that she is truly gone, pushing out the emotions that you should be feeling, numbing you to the pain that should have set in. 

her departure left a hole within you where your feelings used to reside, leaving behind someone you don’t recognize, as if it stole away your will to live. 

kageyama had expected screams and cries, not this. a human shell who resembles you, alive and breathing, eating and drinking whatever he pushes your way, but nothing behind those eyes that once glowed with life as though a living star breathed through them. 

nothing but a blank stare and a faraway look, as though your body may be there, but your mind has long since left. he had not heard your voice in days, not a single word or noise leaving your lips. you continued to remain in that statelessness through the wake where strangers showed up to offer their condolences. 

your parents are absent, not a single call, even with the funeral service happening today. 

you are not surprised—how often have you really seen them growing up? you could probably count it all on ten fingers. 

still, they are nowhere to be found as the guests complete their round in placing the flowers in the casket. you stare at the pure white of the kimono on your grandmother. the hole in your chest seems to grow by the minute, consuming everything in its path. 

not when the coffin is nailed shut, your grandmother’s serene face disappearing beneath the wood for one final time. not when the funeral procession leaves to the crematorium. 

not even when the casket is slid into the cremation chamber, the door sliding shut between you for the final time, a permanent separation between the living and the dead. 

something in you cracks at the sight, pinning you in the place of your last farewell. this is as far as you could accompany her. 

so this is the way your world ends, not with a bang but a whimper. 

the fracture grows as the time for kotsuage approaches and you are returned to the harsh reality of a world that exists without her, a world that keeps spinning even if yours had stopped, remains of it laid bare before you, and sitting next to it is an urn and two pairs of chopsticks. 

all that is left of your memories and your love, the only evidence left that they ever existed are the white bones mixed in ashes on the sterile metal tray. 

you think you might throw up. 

a commotion behind breaks the narrowing of your vision, as your ears pick up the quiet shuffle of kageyama’s feet to investigate the noise. 

something rushes at you, hot and pressing, rushes up your neck and your ears, your cheeks as their voices become discernible. it spreads across your chest, enveloping you in its heat, squeezing your hands into trembling fists at your sides as recognition walks in. 

anger, hot white anger erupts in your vision at the sight of your father and his wife. it engulfs you in its flame, pressure rising against the nothingness in your chest, turning your breathing ragged. 

it builds and builds and you explode with it, instead of succumbing and crumpling under the pressure. 

“what are you doing here?” your voice croaks, raspy with disuse. they had not bothered to show up, not when you needed them, not when she needed them, not even to put up a show at her funeral and play the role of a good son and daughter-in-law. 

“not even a hello or how are you? your grandmother was just cremated and you have already forgotten the manners she taught you?” your father shakes his head with disapproval dripping from his voice, dressed in a clean cut suit. 

you might have mistaken it for funeral attire if not for the shiny watch slapped on his wrist. funerals are meant to grieve the deceased, not show off your wealth. 

you hate this. him. how dare they show up now and insult her when the funeral rituals are not even complete, her bones not even cold? how is it that he is alive and she is not?

“get out. you are not welcome here.” you hate the blurriness in your vision, fighting to keep your voice level, holding onto your anger with a tight leash before it consumes you whole, before the tears that follow it arrive. 

“i have every right to be here as her son. i will not disrespect the traditions of our ancestors simply because you think you are grown up enough to make your own decisions.” he says it so matter-of-factly that you wish he could have taken her place instead.

“get out of here.” you breathe, nose flaring as he takes another step closer, reaching for the special chopsticks reserved for the ritual. 

“did you forget? kotsuage is a ritual that requires two relatives of the deceased. no matter how much you despise me, i am still her closest living relative.” 

not when you have not bothered to visit her in years, you want to scream. not when you have not bothered to see her even one last time. you knew she wanted to see him for the last time even if she did not say it aloud—and he had not come. 

you hate the way you shrivel under the stare he pins on you, making you feel small and dumb and five again, being yelled at for mistakes that are not yours. you will for the words to come, for your vocal cords to make the sounds, but it is kageyama who speaks up when your own voice fails you. 

“you are right, kotsuage is a ritual that requires two close relatives of the deceased,” your heart plummets at his words, deathly still as he glances at you, “but it does not dictate that they have to be blood relatives of the deceased. sometimes flesh and blood is no different than strangers, and from what i heard from obaasan, that would be the case here.”

you tense, instinctively taking a step in front of kageyama as your father turns his attention to him. your hand finds kageyama’s arm, giving him a light squeeze in gratitude.

“remind me, who are you and why are you meddling in my family affairs?” he narrows his eyes on kageyama with an unpleasant glint. you brace yourself for the insults that are sure to follow, but what comes is worse than you could have imagined. “is this what you have been up to in italy, daughter? is this why tetsuro divorced you? because he caught you cheating? i always knew he was too good for you. at least have the decency to keep him away from staining the funeral.”

his words cut deep into the heart of the eight year old girl he left at his mother’s door—the girl who still waited for her father to return and keep his promise that she will be his little angel, the same girl who fell asleep waiting by the door when he bails on their plans. the girl who was left behind because she did not fit into the new and perfect family of his. 

somewhere deep within you, her heart shutters for a final time, but you are not her anymore. you have not been your father’s daughter for a while now. 

you hold onto kageyama firmly as his arm flexes in response to your father’s outrageous insults, feeling your own rage reflected in him. he relaxes slightly as your hand wraps around his tightly clenched fist, fingers winding between his own and closing the distance.

behind you, kageyama swallows stiffly, barely able to see past his rage at your father’s implication that kuroo deserved better than you, his own daughter. he might have tackled the older man with grey streaks in his hair, if not for your hand laced tightly with his. 

i got it, you seem to say. 

he believes it—believes in you. you could do anything you wanted if you put your mind to it. he busies himself with the different ways he could handle the fallout with your father, shield you from his anger. 

he does not expect the words that come next. 

“this is kageyama tobio. he’s only the best setter the world has ever seen, and a better man than you could ever be, or even dream of. he is the one who sat by obaasan’s bed, peeled fruits for her, fed her when her own strength failed her, kept her company when she forgets about me and i cannot bear to be there. right until the end, even though he was not related to her in any way.”

you wipe the stray tear that slides down your cheek, the final tears from the five year old who needed her father, as you turn to look at kageyama.

“he saved me, again, and again, and again, asking for nothing in return. so if you cared to ask anyone, kageyama is a part of this family more than you ever were.” you run your thumb over the back of his hand, smiling gratefully at him. “he will carry out the kotsuage with me. so please feel free to leave, or watch quietly by the side, i don’t care either way.” 

your father seethes at your words, ready to rain hell upon you, but kageyama silences him with a glare, “i would listen to your daughter, if i were you. like you said, we should not be disrespecting the traditions of our ancestors by making a scene at a time of mourning.”

“you would stand there and allow him to speak to your father like this?” he turns to you, disappointment on his aged face. you always remembered him to be in his prime, but perhaps that only serves to show how long it has been since you saw him last.

the young girl who wished for her father fades away into the shadows, finally coming to an understanding that she will never be loved by him the way he used to ever again. it feels like the weight of a boulder is lifted off your shoulders when you hold his stare and say, “i have not had a father for years.”

kotsuage brings back somber memories from his early teenage years, of his absent parents, of him and his sister painstakingly transferring each bone that used to be part of his grandfather into the ceramic urn. 

if he had to describe the hollowness he felt that day, you would be a close description of it. 

your father had left in a fury, slamming the doors behind them, and silence fell in the time since then. silence that forces you to face the new reality, punctuated with the sound of chopsticks picking up each individual bone starting from the feet all the way up to the head. 

with each bone carefully lowered into the urn by both of you at the same time, pieces of you that awakened momentarily during the confrontation with your father return to dormancy. 

“thank you, i’m sorry for asking this of you.” you had told him softly as your shoulders drooped with exhaustion, dropping your bravado as soon as your father was out of sight. 

he had wanted to wipe away the single line of tear that streaked down your left cheek, but you looked so fragile that he was afraid his touch might be the final straw connecting the hairline fractures that accumulated over the weeks, shattering you into pieces too small to piece back together.

you tried so hard to hold it together, not wanting him to see beneath the facade that you are just fine and grieving that he allowed it, pretended to not notice your nails digging into the flesh of your palm, or the shiny film of tears that you will away every now and then.

that was three days ago. three whole days since he had seen you eat, watching you wither away before his eyes as you fought the grief shrouding you. he had stood by his promise and gave you time and space to face the grief, but he could not bear to watch as you keep running. 

so enough is enough. he would not stand by and watch you lose yourself any longer. 

deciding that is easy. the hard part is choosing when and how to approach it, especially since you have been keeping your interactions to a minimum. 

kageyama feels guilty for springing this on you, of course he does, but he made a promise to your grandmother that he would help you find your way home when you are lost, and he intends on keeping it. 

“hey,” you flinch at the sound of his voice breaking you out of your empty gaze staring out the backyard. his eyes track your movements, zeroing on the way your fingers fiddle with the glass in your hands. “you holding up alright?”

you give him a half smile, hoping that it is enough to pacify his worries, nodding your confirmation. 

kageyama had given you a wide berth since… since then, and so you expected him to do the same today, but he takes a step towards you, and another, and another until he comes to a stop next to you at the kitchen sink, entering your bubble separating you from the world.

he half expected you to step away, to leave, but you don’t. it surprises you as well, finding his presence within your imaginary sphere of safety to be soothing, instead of suffocating, like the past few days had been. 

you tried to not think about the things you had said to your father about kageyama, about what it meant for the two of you. it had been easy to ignore them, memories of the day reminding you of—

you shake the thoughts away like you did for the past few days. it was not a revelation that you wanted him to stay and fight for you despite you pushing him away. a selfish desire you harbored for him to prove that he would not leave at the first sign of inconvenience. but that is selfish and wrong of you to wish for, and you wanted him to turn away and never look back. 

you aren’t quite sure which side you stand on anymore, and it had not been a priority as you were preoccupied with walking away from the truth that keeps tapping you in the shoulder. it sunk its claw in you, forcing you to look it in the eyes, but it had been too horrifying that you had ignored it ever since. 

if you pretended it didn’t exist, then it cannot be true, right?

he probably wanted to know where you stand, you don’t blame him at all. you would too, if you were him.

what you don’t expect, are the words that follow—“it’s okay to mourn.”

mourn. the word shudders through you, an unwelcome weight that settles between the spaces of your ribcage, heavy yet unable to fill the void carved out of your soul. 

your slumbering emotion cracks an eye open at the surge of conflict awakened within you.

“i am.” you withdraw your hand, spitting the word out like it is poison. “mourning.” 

“you are angry. that’s normal too.”

“i don’t appreciate you psychoanalyzing me.” you shove back at the crack of anger that sparks to your defense. deep down you know he means well, his words make the emotions in you swell further.

“you are trying to run away from it, just like i did.” he splays his hands on the countertop, a neutral gesture to soothe your defensiveness. “i know how hard it is to live with the sudden emptiness that appeared inside you, but it’s alright to sit with it, to feel the nothingness of what used to be there.”

you open your mouth to deny it, but he knows. suddenly you are reminded of the fact that he went through the same thing as a child, and it leaves you feeling guilty.

“i can’t” you finally admit the truth softly. “already, her smile is slipping from my mind. i lost her, i don’t want to forget her too, kageyama.”

“you won’t. ten years from now, twenty, thirty, her memories will live on in you. you will never lose the love you hold for her, or forget the love she gave you. grieving, properly mourning her passing is only the beginning of the end that stays with you for the rest of your life. i learnt the hard way that grief is just love with nowhere to go.”

your bottom lip wobbles as tears start streaming down your face at the eventuality of it all. the dam of tears that you suppressed over the last few days come breaking all at once, and then you feel it—the rawness of a broken and bleeding heart at the thought of never seeing her again. 

“i– i can’t–” you gasp between whimpers and sobs. “it’s too much.”

“it gets easier, but it never goes away completely.” kageyama says quietly, rubbing your back in circles as sobs engulf you. 

as much as he wants to take the pain away from you, he would never deny you the final act of love that stands as a testament of the bond that existed between you. so he stands there, right next to you as you finally allow yourself to grieve.

“love was here. love still is.”

you shatter in the sanctuary of his arms as grief finally catches up to you. 

taglist. @hatsukeii @daisy-room @soulfullystarry @kitsune-kita @bakery-anon @thechaosoflonging @bakingcuriosity @wordsofelie @theshxaverse @animechick555 @jkkhay @sickpatientt (gen) @mintgrumpy @box-of-roses (tobio nation) @hiraethwrote @shouyuus @yogurtkags @mcdonaldsnumberone @lale-txt (add yourself here)

a/n. it took three months to get here <33 and i couldn't wait any longer so forgive any mistakes i may have missed xoxo

awaiting updates? browse the library while waiting

if you liked this, please consider leaving a like, comment, rb or ask <3 (perhaps i enjoy breaking hearts a little too much)

[limabean42]

Hi! I would like to request Ennui x Reader dating headcanons! :) Genuinely curious on how she’s like in a relationship.

☽ Being in a relationship with Ennui ☾

Thank you for requesting!

-

• Ennui is very nonchalant

• So it took you by surprise when you found out that she was even capable of romantic feelings for anyone

• Originally, she didn’t even consider dating anyone because she could care less about most things besides her phone

• You were the only one she found bearable to be around constantly

• She enjoyed watching you

• Her main focus was still her phone of course but she would glance up from it every once in a while and immediately look for you

• Over time she would look up from her phone more and more and for longer periods of time

• She brushed it off because she didn’t really grasp the concept of romance

• You, however, were crushing hard on her and decided to confess

• You sat on the end of the couch she lays on and confessed

• Your confession took her by surprise and her eyes widened as she slowly began to shift her gaze from her phone to you

• You started to think that this was a mistake

• Her expression went back to normal as she said, “Sure, why not?”

• You were happy but didn’t think she seemed too into the idea. She still accepted though so she must have liked you at least partially

• At the beginning of your relationship she behaves as usual. Laying on the couch she claimed almost always on her phone and occasionally controlling the panel with it

• You would have to make most of the moves

• You sit on the couch with her and watch her play games on her phone. You guys watch TikToks together as well

• Her feelings aren’t very apparent to you so you just spend as much time with her as possible and hope that she loves you the same

• Considering she sits up on the couch to share her phone with you rather than laying down by herself she definitely does

• Eventually you end up kissing her cheek to comfort her after she loses a level of her game

• Her eyes widen again. When she realizes what just happened she relaxes again and brings your face to hers and kisses you on the lips

• You were pleasantly surprised and felt giddy and fluffy inside

• In general she’s pretty lazy and bored with everything but not you

• The time spent after your kiss didn’t even include her phone

• She sat it to the side and you two talked for the rest of the day

• The next day she was barely on her phone. You both chatted on the couch. She only checked it from time to time

• After you’ve been in a relationship for a while you feel comfortable and reassured that she loves you

• Most of the time you guys cuddle on the couch while on her phone. You watch movies and shows together, laughing at the funny parts

• Since she’s so used to cuddling you on the couch during the day she brings you in her bed at night and falls asleep with you in her arms, usually laid on her chest

• You give her surprise kisses. She closes her eyes and smiles contently

• She kisses you sometimes when you do something awkward or cute but usually isn’t big on physical affection or PDA

• You sit on her lap with her arms wrapped around you while she controls the panel with her phone

• If you make any bold moves on her she’ll always blush

• She doesn’t really have a distinct music taste before dating you so you introduce her to some of your favorite artists

• You share earbuds. You lean on her shoulder while you listen

• She convinces you to get your own phone so you two can compete against each other in games

• When you give her massages she almost always falls asleep. Definitely asks for more when she wakes up

•She’s very spoiled when she’s with you

• If she doesn’t see you for a while she gets worried and gets up to look for you

• Either calls you by your name or mon amour

• When she says mon amour she gets a little shy but plays it off so you can’t even tell

• It’s really hard to read her. To know what she’s feeling or thinking

• If she was ever upset about something she’d tell you if it was really getting to her

• Otherwise she’d probably keep it to herself and get over it quickly

• If you ever went to her in need of comfort she’d be awkward about it since she doesn’t know what to do

• She’d be upset if anyone made you sad and would hug you close

• Ennui would also teach you some words in French

• She would use French to speak to you sometimes instead of English so the other emotions couldn’t understand

• If any of the other emotions asked or tried to understand what she was saying to you she’d just smirk and go, “Non.”

• Very blunt communicator and always honest

• Would tell you her full opinion about anything you ask

• She has a secure attachment style bordering on avoidant

• Ennui wouldn’t want her partner to be super clingy (emotionally) and dependent on her for everything

• She gets tired easily

• If you are prone to anxious thoughts though she’d be understanding

• If you’re anxious regarding your relationship with her she would try her best to reassure you in any way you need

• If you’re an avoidant partner she probably wouldn’t notice. She wouldn’t want you too be too distant though since you two are a pair in her mind

• Her love language is quality time. She just likes to be in your presence even if you’re not doing anything in particular. It’s comforting to her

• Overall she’s a very laidback and happy girlfriend

• As long as you are content she is too

-

Thanks for reading! Also I noticed a while ago that none of the emotions have ears. I thought of that when I wrote the earbud part but decided to include it anyway since it’s cute lol

[meetmeinanotherworld]

Things that helped me believe in shifting other than my own personal experiences...

This will be a loooong post so grab a snack for this one.

Shifting tattoos- the fact that so many people have gotten the shifting symbol permanently tattooed on their bodies despite how ridiculed the shifting community is. Tattoos are expensive and painful and to get them removed or covered up is even more expensive and even more painful. People get the shifting symbol tattooed onto their bodies knowing people will probably ask about it. They would not put themselves through that if shifting wasn't real.

The gateway process aka the cia documents- no, this document is not about shifting. However, the topics in the gateway process can certainly be tied to shifting realities and the fact that the cia even explored this shows that it's not a crazy concept. Of course the cia is not exactly a great source or a group to look up to as they are a terrible unethical organization, I think we can still appreciate the fact that there's a whole long document about the power of human consciousness. "It may not be the brain which creates consciousness, but rather the consciousness that creates the appearance of the brain" -a direct quote from the gateway process.

Old experiences- the fact that shifting has been documented long before 2020. Long before the internet even existed, actually. It just wasn't called shifting back then. That's a relatively new term, but the practice has always been around. Neville Goddard was sharing his experiences way back in the 50s/60s. The idea of exploring other worlds is also something that has been touched on in Hinduism and Buddhism and I believe some native tribes.

The ganzfeld experiment- again, not shifting related. Just really fucking cool. I recommend looking into it but to simplify it, it was an experiment testing for telepathic communication. Essentially, one person would be in a room with ping pong balls over their eyes in a red lit room and white noise played over headphones to block out external stimuli, while another person would be in another isolated room looking at different images. The receiver would have to describe the images. Approximately 835 ganzfeld sessions were conducted through 28 studies and they achieved telepathy 38% of the time. While that seems low, it is statistically a huge deal because in order for it to be "chance" it would have to be 25% or lower. The fact that our brains are capable of that makes it difficult to believe shifting isn't real and that's where the line draws.

Lady wonder, the psychic horse- I know that sounds fucking insane and once again is not shifting related. But lady wonder was a horse from the 20th century that was super smart and could spell things out. Not so crazy, right? WRONG. People started believing she was psychic because of how smart she was so they would ask her questions or even had her help solve crimes and she had a super high success rate. They even ran a test where they had scientists try to debunk it by having one person in another room write stuff on a notepad and lady wonder was in a separate room and spelled out everything they wrote down. She even helped find a little boys body that was missing. I'm sorry but if we live in a world with psychic horses, I'm going to believe I can shift to be with my crushes.

Communication through dreams- Researchers at REMspace have been studying lucid dreaming for a long time now and last year in September of 2024, they were able to successfully have two participants communicate to each other through a lucid dream for the first time. They tracked their brainwaves and when person a was in a lucid dream, they generated a random word to him through his earbuds. When person b became lucid, she was able to also receive that message and repeated that random word when she woke up, confirming successful communication through the lucid dream. If someone tried to suggest communicating through dreams five years ago, people would've scoffed at it the same way they do with shifting. This is a very recent discovery that shows what our brains are capable of and communicating through dreams doesn't sound much crazier than being able to shift our awareness to different versions of ourselves.

What we know now vs what we knew in the past- it feels very, very silly to act like everything we know now is all there is to know. Yeah, there haven't been really any studies into shifting realities. All we have are theories and people's shared experiences. But it's difficult to prove something that's not physical. We're still studying dreams and what they mean and how they work and we're still learning about the human consciousness. We may know a lot now, but we certainly don't know everything. Think about what we knew 50 years ago vs what we know now. We've learned a lot over the years. Now think about what we know now vs what we'll know in 50 years. It feels like we know a lot because we don't know what we don't know. But truthfully, in the grand scheme of things, we really don't know a lot. We're still learning new things about our universe and this planet every day.

People still sharing things about shifting today- if it was just a trend, it would have passed by now. It would have passed before 2020 even ended. The internet is horrible about keeping trends alive. Remember that fake TikTok movie thing that became a joke and people would make up lore and stuff about? It lasted like two weeks because people can't keep up with things like that. Trends and inside jokes do not last on the internet. But it's still going strong because it's not just a trend. It's real. Which leads me to my next point

The people that said they were lying- I know this is going to be a strange and unpopular opinion, but honestly, the fact that a small handful of people have come out as lying is very motivating to me. Hear me out. I used to have the mindset of like "oh no these people are lying is it all fake after all???" But in actuality, the fact that there has been a handful of people that have said they were lying and it wasn't real and even a couple that went super viral and yet people are still standing strong tells me no, it's not fake. They just didn't try hard enough and gave up. There have been so many opportunities for people to be like "ok yeah it was fake and I lied" but they haven't. If it was just an inside joke it so easily could've wrapped up by now. When TikTok was getting banned in January, so many shifttokers who knew they were losing their platform and had no reason to lie anymore still stood by the fact that it is real. Although I am not trying to give any credit to those antis that came out as liars because they suck and are horribly disrespectful and give shifters a bad look, it's still motivating knowing despite the liars, we're still standing strong.

People shifting without knowing they shifted- I've heard so many stories before shifting even became popular of people having these experiences. I remember a Reddit story that went viral years ago of a person who got injured or something and ended up living like an entire life with a wife and family and thought it was real until they noticed something was off and then they came back and all of that was gone. There are a bunch of stories of people having near death experiences and they see themselves die but end up being okay in actuality and they believe they shifted timelines. I heard a story someone shared completely unrelated to shifting where they were at a ski resort and somehow got separated from everyone and suddenly there was nothing there. Only snow and trees. No people, no resort. She was gone for hours and eventually saw this bright light and followed it to a subway and eventually made her way back to everyone but to them, she wasn't gone long at all. She said everything felt off and when she got home things were still feeling off like stuff in her room was in different places. She believes she shifted timelines and I believe her, especially because she didn't even frame it as a reality shifting experience.

The diversity in the shifting community- the fact that there are hundreds of thousands of us in the shifting community and we're all different. There are people of different ages, races, nationalities, gender, sexualities, different religious backgrounds, etc. There are people that have been shifting long before shifting blew up. There are people that have shifted that don't even post about it. We're all so different. Idk that just makes it more real to me.

The universe as a whole- the fact that we exist on this planet right now and that we are such a tiny spec in the universe is insane. The universe is constantly expanding and we will literally never be able to explore all of it. We have no idea what all is out there. What is the universe expanding into? How is it expanding? What existed before it? Obviously we know we're here because of the Big Bang but how did that even happen and align the way it did? Like of course I know science and stuff and I understand the theories, but it's just the fact that everything aligned the way it did. The universe is so massive we'll never be able to comprehend it. We came from tiny little atoms and evolved into human beings. I feel like we don't appreciate how insane that is enough. Energy can't be created or destroyed so we're all literally made of the universe. Oh, but shifting is so insane? Sorry, the existence of the universe and the fact that we even exist the way we do and somehow turned a planet made of dirt and rocks and water into what it is now with skyscrapers and airplanes and Bluetooth makes me believe we're capable of a lot more. Also the fact that it's proven that the fabric of space and time can bend..... right.

Tarot reading- another thing that is completely unrelated to shifting. It's more so the fact that tarot has existed for hundreds of years, since the 15th century, and is a pretty well respected practice. Of course there are scammers out there that give tarot reading a bad reputation, but it's been around so long and is amazing when done right. The fact that a deck of cards can be used as a tool to answer questions and look into the future. I have a friend who doesn't believe in tarot or really anything sort of "witchy" or anything like that. But he and his friends had tarot readings just for fun and he was so shocked and confused when the things the tarot reader said all started coming true. Like it truly shocked him. How is that more believable than just becoming aware of another version of ourselves? Like we already have all these capabilities within ourselves so why is shifting crossing the line?

Witchcraft and manifesting- kind of tying into the first point, witchcraft and manifestation are things that have been around for centuries. And even today, while shifting is something that is ridiculed, people are more open minded toward witchcraft and manifestation. There's still a lot of people that don't believe and think it's ridiculous, but there's also a lot of people that do believe even if they don't believe in shifting. And what is shifting if not just a more advanced version of manifestation? Yet so many people think shifting is ridiculous and made up because people are choosing to go to hogwarts while they still spend their time manifesting their desires. It's two sides of the same coin, babes.

This picture-

ALL OF THOSE ARE GALAXIES WE'LL NEVER EXPLORE!!!! And you wanna tell me it's crazy to think there's other realities out there???

Shiftblr- of course like many of us, I discovered shifting through shifttok right at the very, very beginning of it. I know many people hate shifttok, but it will always hold a special place in my heart. Despite that, the existence of shiftblr has solidified my beliefs way more than shifttok. You don't get clout or fame or money posting about shifting on tumblr. You don't gain anything posting on here. Yet the fact that thousands of people do, and most of them don't even get much attention from it at all tells me people are doing it for themselves. Because they believe. Because they've experienced it. And while I don't think people on tiktok are all liars and I don't think they're all trying to get clout because they also have to deal with horrible antis harassing them, there's also more of a possibility of people just trying to get attention or money. Again, I still enjoy shifttok, but tumblr feels more authentic. On tumblr, you don't even get to see how many followers people have.

Honestly, there's more I could get into but I have yapped long enough. This isn't even including my own personal experiences. I could ramble on about shifting and all the ties there are to it for so long but I think I hit the main points I wanted to get into. There's just one last thing I want to say before I wrap this up. If shifting didn't get popular from people going to hogwarts or the mcu or these "fictional" places that we perceive as fictional because they're just tv shows/movies/books in this reality, more people would believe in it. If it got popular because of more mundane things such as visiting a deceased family member or going on a dream vacation or reliving childhood memories, more people would be on board with shifting. But instead, they saw teenage girls talking about going to hogwarts and scoffed and rolled their eyes instead of considering all the possibilities.