#GUYS HES THE HOPELESS BOY WITH THE RECKLESS GRIN

[ratfreecog]

Am I the only person who cares at all about Bob Sheldon. Not really even in the usual way I care about characters like he’s not super important to me but like. Towards the end of the book when Pony gets super retrospective and anytime he talks about Bob and the socs vs his own friend group and their parallels (ESP SODA AND STEVE VS BOB AND RANDY WITH THE SAVING/NOT SAVING THE KIDS AND THE STILL FIGHTING/NOT FIGHTING AFTER ONE DIES) and how Bob, so similarly Dally but in completely different ways was doomed from the start. That shit breaks me. It means so much to me. And anytime I try to talk about it everyone will just shit on Bob which. Deserved and I agree I’m not saying he’s a good person but also he was also just a kid who got too much of what he didn’t need and never enough of what he did and regardless of whatever moral standing you have with him I WANT TO TALK ABOUT THAT. I WANNA TALK ABOUT HIM

[kaiser1ns]

#. HUH !?

featuring 𝘀𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗿𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝘂𝗸𝗮 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff. sometimes you ask yourself are boys that dense or is it just your crush?

for my fellow beloved sakura lover @y2kuromi

Sakura was already used to the adrenaline rush of fighting, and the banter with the ones who dared to cross the lines with Bofurin. Yet, there was one thing he couldn't quite wrap his head around—you.

You were just another member of their gang, albeit a particularly striking one. Your presence seemed to permeate every space you occupied, drawing attention and how you effortlessly charmed everyone around, even the toughest of their gang members.

"Huh?" The heterochromia eyed boy often found himself uttering that single syllable whenever you did something that caught him off guard. It became an inside joke among his friends—the way they thought Sakura Haruka would blush furiously and stutter whenever you paid him even the slightest bit of attention.

It wasn't just your looks that threw him off. Sure, you were undeniably beautiful, but there was more to it than that. You had a way of seeing through his tough exterior, calling out his moments of vulnerability with a teasing smile that simultaneously embarrassed him.

One evening, after a particularly rough patrol, you insisted on patching up his scraped knuckles. He sat on the edge of your bed, feeling oddly nervous as you cleaned the cuts and applied bandages. "You're such a reckless person, Haru" you teased gently with that nickname, especially with the nickname that made his whole face red and for him to pout lips, as your fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary on his hand. "You need to be more careful out there."

Sakura ould feel the heat rising to his cheeks. It was hot, you were hot, wait, that's not what he wanted to think, not that it wasn't true, it was on 100%, you were so pretty, unbelievably stupidly pretty, was it the correct way to put it? Oh, God just let him burn already, "Huh?" he managed to mumble, avoiding your gaze as you chuckled softly, a sound that sent him into existence crisis, "I said, you need to take better care of yourself. You're important to me, you know?"

Your words caught him off guard. Sakura wasn't used to being the recipient of such straightforward care and concern. He was more accustomed to dishing it out to others, not having it directed back at him.

As days went by, he found himself becoming more increasingly aware of your presence. Whether you were teasing him about his grumpy morning mood or simply sitting quietly beside him during Bofurin meetings, you always seemed to have a way of making him feel both at safe and on edge simultaneously.

Walking back to Café Pothos, you nudged him playfully with your elbow. "Hey, Haru, did you see that guy's face when you punched him? It was priceless!"

Sakura chuckled nervously, his heart pounding in his chest. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess." You grinned and your eyes quite literally were sparkling, was that even biologically possible for someone to look so pretty when so happy, well you sure did. "You're hopeless, you know that?"

His's cheeks flushed crimson. Again it was hot, because you were hot. Damnit. What was happening? Why is he burning? Why am I burning? Too many questions, with one easy answer. "I-I am not!" Your conversation continued late into the night, long after the others had left the restaurant. Sakura found himself enjoying these moments with you more than he cared to admit.

As you sat together under the stars, you leaned against Sakura's shoulder. "You know, Haru, you don't always have to be so tough. It's okay to let your guard down sometimes."

Sakura felt his heart skip a beat. He turned to look at you, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a fish out of water. "Huh?" You laughed softly, your breath warm against his cheek. "Exactly like that. You're too cute when you're flustered."

He could feel the warmth spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He glanced down at his hands, trying to compose himself. "I-I'm not cute, stop it!" he muttered, though he couldn't hide the smile that appeared on his pouty lips.

You tilted your head, studying his expression with those lovesick eyes. As someone who noticed and felt romance for others, it was a lost cause for his own romantic experience. "Maybe not to yourself," you said, gently booping his nose, "but definitely to me."

Sakura's heart drowned in a pool of emotions he couldn't quite name. He swallowed nervously, his throat suddenly dry. "Y/N, I..." Before he could finish, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "You don't have to say anything," you whispered against his ear, voice so quiet, so gentle...so smooth, "Just know that I'm glad you're here with me, Haruka."

For the first time, Sakura Haruka's mind went blank. He felt like the world had stopped spinning, leaving only the two of you in a timeless moment beneath the stars, lost in the galaxy, searching for one another in the infinite space. He glanced at you, meeting your eyes with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. As if he had found something he had been longing for all his life. The depth of his eyes drew you in, making you feel like you were the center of his universe, a precious star in his vast, personal sky.

"Huh?" Sakura managed to whisper, his voice barely above a breath. You smiled at his supposed answer, you knew what would he say either way. "Exactly Haru," you murmured, her fingers intertwining with his. "Exactly."

And so, the next day at Furin High School, everyone seemed to laugh at Saku, not in a bullying manner, but more of a teasing one.

"It seems that your girl finally got you," Suo Hayato smiled at his classmate, teasing as always, and the other Bofurin members gave him thumbs up and some winks. Weird. It made him very confused. Why were they staring at him so much? Did he have something on his face? He swore he washed and showered every day. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing in particular. You see, everyone hoped that you would finally make a move, but she beats you to it once again." Sakura's confusion only deepened. Before he could ask more, Nirei walked up to him, "Here, let me show you, Sakura-san." he said, pulling out his phone and opening the camera app. He handed it to him, who looked at his reflection on the screen. There, on his cheeks, were a bright red lipstick marks. His eyes widened as he remembered yesterday's encounter with the girl he liked. Sakura's face turned an even deeper shade of red, matching the lipstick colour perfectly. The realization hit him like a ton of fists in the ring, and his friends burst into laughter at his embarrassed state.

"Huh?" And the saga counties...

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work

[purecommemasolitude]

The way Ponyboy goes from “all the girls are pretty [in the West Side]/and all the guys are mean” in the opening number to partially dedicating his narrative to Bob ("for the hopeless boy with the reckless grin") because he's matured and now understands how Bob is also a victim of the system and was let down by the people around him....... Man.

[ya-what--ya-erster]

guys. The finale of the outsiders is a literal work of genius.

first off, “for the hopeless boy with the reckless grin” being about Bob YES

they tie it in so well like it’s clearly the end but it’s also a beginning. The beginning of pony’s writing and therefore becoming okay WHICH MOVES ME TO MY NEXT POINT

the way the thoughts flow it feels like writing. It feels like new writing that pony isn’t sure he’ll ever put out into the world because the way he goes through, the things he references touch but aren’t touching and there are some abrupt topic shifts but it’s all obviously an attempt at something that will eventually all fall into place and it does!! Like back to how it’s an end and a beginning like yes!!! The end of the show is the beginning of pony telling his story, which in the end loops straight back to the beginning and aHHHHHhhhhhH

I love.

[bakubub]

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[lovesanmotion]

Precious - Song Mingi

💌 This is: Requested

Summary: in which PeterPan!Mingi finally confesses his true feelings for Tinkerbell!Reader

"I can't believe you would ever hurt Wendy like that!......When did you become so violent, y/n?" Mingi spoke with so much venom in his voice but the venom melted into a tone of sadness at the last question.

Partly you blamed yourself for being carried away by your emotions. You only ever wanted to save Mingi from being eaten by the sharks with chains and shackles on his wrists and ankles, but a wretched Wendy attempts to do the same but got herself thrown over the water. You only ever wanted to save Mingi and leave Wendy behind. Besides, it was her own fault for doing something so reckless and stupid without thinking.

"Don't you know you could have killed her?" Mingi's question made you imagine how the crocodiles or the giant red octopus would swallow Wendy whole, inside feeling sorry for her, a sinister smile painted your lips and a tinking sound echoes as you nodded your head.

"Y/N! I hereby banish you forever." Mingi declares, the rest of the lost boys gasp at the sudden declaration. It would always be Mingi and you going to numerous adventures along with the boys, but to vanish you. You stomped your foot and flied away to your own little room inside the willow tree that Mingi made for you some years ago. On your way, you were sure to catch Wendy say something to Mingi.

"Forever? Do you really have the heart to banish y/n forever?" She asked in a solemn tone.

"Well...maybe you're right. Maybe a week then!"

Too angry to even think and listen more at what they could be talking about, you shut your leaf curtain behind you.

And Mingi did keep his word. You were banished for a week, nothing what and where could they be doing without you. And all you could do is sit down miserably on the edge of the leaf, waiting for them to come back. But while waiting, a rustling sound was made from behind you, and suddenly, a purple bag enveloped you, a thread of tinking sounds resonated as you tried to rip the bag apart and dragging you away from Peter's home.

"I beg your pardon, ms y/n. But Captain Hook would love to have a chat with you." You noticed that grumbly old man's voice. It was Mr. Smee who had captured you and eventually take you to Hook's ship.

Once you were set free, you looked around the room, but there was only a wooden table with a fruit bowl and wine on top and a wooden piano that was being played by none other than Captain Hook himself. You sat on top of the untouched wine cork with your back turned against them. Would Mingi ever come for you?

"Ms. Y/N, you would be so delighted to hear that I will admit my defeat" you crossed your arms over your chest and huffed, a tinking noise was made.

"And that's why I took you here, Ms Y/N. To tell you that I have no ill feelings with Mingi." You slowly turned around and watched as Hook's fingers smoothly glides from key to key.

"But what about you and Mingi who brough that Wendy girl?" A devilish grin crosses his face as he leans closer to you. A tinking noises coming from you as you stomped both of your feet on the wine bottle and turned your back away from them again. You could feel the sinister look on Hook's face as he echoed the G key.

"Word around the island is that she came between you and Mingi." Hook's fingers continued to dance around the white and black keys of the piano. Aimlessly creating random melodies that seemed like a harmony.

You frowned and hung your head low, sniffing.

"What's this? Tears?! Then it is true!" Hook leaned his face closer to you, watching you bring your small hand over your eyes to wipe your tears. A tinking sound echoes as you nodded your head.

"How dare Mingi act like a man to a maid? Casting her aside just like that? Like an old glove!" Your lower lip trembled and you couldn't help but bury your face in your hands, sobbing.

"Now now, Ms Y/N. Just as promised. I will be leaving the island with no ill feelings with Mingi." Hook took your little form in his hand and brought you outside of his ship. You leant close to his face before departing.

"Not harm Mingi?" Hook repeated what you last said. "Madame, I will keep your word. Not to lay a finger on Mingi." You arched your pointing finger at him.

"Or a hook on Mingi." Hook repeated. And Hook brought his hand down with you, setting you free.

As you flied towards to Mingi's home, you passed by a mirror and stared at your reflection. The golden glow around you looked like it was fading, you huffed out a breath and trudgingly made your way back to your room.

And day by day, Mingi, the lost boys nor even that wretched Wendy came back to the house. You felt like a thousand needles were piercing through you and they hurted terribly. You could no longer fly nor walk properly, only crawl. The golden glow around you was no longer golden as they start to fade out. Finally, you gave in and your golden glow died out, with a last breath, you closed your eyes.

"Mingi...why is Y/N not moving anymore?" One of the lost boys asked as they took a peak at the little hole in the willow tree.

"Y/N looks...kinda bad" One said as they observed you. Unbeknownst to them that you have "lost your touch" while they are away.

"Kinda bad? kinda bad?" One lost boy repeated as tears started to brim in his eyes until the tears flowed out of his eyes. "This is hopeless. Poor little y/n!" He sobbed.

Mingi felt terrible as he watched your unmoving and lightless figure on your little bed.

"Can you guys go to wherever Wendy is? Make sure she's alright. I'll just talk to y/n alone." Mingi said as he turns to face the six lost boys before him, scrambling out of the room together. When they were all gone, Mingi turns back to face you, sighing.

"Y/N...I'm..I-I," Mingi sighed once more, huffing a breath. "I'm sorry for being so harsh on you, Y/N....I admit that it was my fault, and I didn't really intend to banish you forever. You know its always been me and you since the beginning right? Us two until the end." Mingi extended his hand out and took your little figure in the palm of his hand. But you still laid unmoving and your light still down.

"Remember when we once defeated Hook in Blindman's Tree and had the giant red octopus chase him? I still remember that day very vividly. Oh, and do you also remember when we first met the tribe and had a feast and danced around with them? I know you got jealous when their princess was being too close to me. I know I never said anything, but you looked really cute when you were jealous." Mingi chuckles as if he was talking to you like you were alive. And the next thing, Mingi sniffled as a tear falled out of his eye.

"I miss you, Y/N. We...the boys, we made Hook and his men leave the island." He choked, gulping his own saliva before releasing a breath. "But everytime I was battling Hook, I keep looking for a little golden figure around the ship. It...it-it....it isn't the same without you, y/n." He sobbed.

"Do you remember how we met in Fairy Town? That was the happiest memory I have in my head." He continued to sob over your unmoving and lightless figure. "I'm sorry and I love you, y/n."

Suddenly, a ray of golden light gleamed around you that made Mingi stop from crying, he watched as you slowly blink your eyes and regain your wings back. A smile replaced his frown and almost immediately, Mingi took your little figure and hugged you tightly.

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Hello thereee!! I hope i could participate in your event:

Kuroo

-A timer for when they shall first meet

Fluff

Most importantly, CONGRATS ON 100! 🎊🤍

I am so sorry for how long this took me lovely lil anon, ya know, I am but a fool and just could not brain the words for this. Ugh, I do love Kuroo but the struggle is real.

Thank you for participating!!!!

----

“You are a brat.” Akaashi mumbled to himself. You couldn’t even be mad at him, because he was right. The only reason he was saying this to you now was because you had previously been a brat - that was why you were sitting next to him and Koutarou on a coach to their Summer training camp, happily swinging your legs.

You were just bored, finished all your Summer homework and had nothing else to do. So, like any normal younger sister would do, you asked Kou if you could tag along to his camp under the promise that you’d do some managing. He hesitated, and then you said something that sold him on the idea.

“Well, it would be really nice to have the number one ace in all of Japan teach me how to play volleyball.” You sighed, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.

“Sakusa isn’t going to be there though.” His hair deflated a little, looking at you with wide eyes.

“But Kou,” you said, meeting his eyes. This was your hook, line and sinker. One of these days, he’d figure out your trick. But that day wasn’t today, “you’ll always be the number one ace in my eyes.”

“I know.” You glanced down at the time on your wrist; your eyes widened a little. When had it gotten so close to the time? It was so easy to forget about the clock on your wrist - slowly counting down to when you’ll meet your soulmate - that when you did finally pay attention to it, it was quite jarring. “2 days.” You mumbled to yourself - but Kou heard it, because of course he did.

“Maybe you’ll get to meet your soulmate at the camp!” He called out, wrapping an arm around you.

In your opinion, Akaashi was the reason where Kou was the chaos. It was no wonder that people thought you’d get along with your brother’s second year counterpart better. Alas, you didn’t. According to him, you schemed too much, a little too sly. How you and Kou turned out so different was always beyond everyone.

Akaashi quipped, “I wonder who the unlucky soul will be.” And you could only laugh. He was right, as much as you hated to admit it.

----

Being a manager wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Well, you didn’t really have to do half as much work as you thought you were going to have to do (Fukurodani does have two managers, after all). You mainly just helped out here and there with whatever some teams needed, focusing more on helping out in the kitchen.

Yukie and Kaori - they’d insisted you call them their first names - maybe, it was because you were Koutarou’s sister - started training you in how to be a manager. They didn’t stop, not even when you insisted you weren’t here to actually do anything helpful. They only briefly let up when Shimizu - a manager from Karasuno - said she had some other work for you.

That other work was only delivering melon to the teams, but you’d take that work over being taught how to be a manager any day of the week.

“Thank you.” You beamed up at the older girl. She smiled back down at you as you walked into the gym.

You were too busy being distracted by her smile that you didn’t hear the yelling of two boys, not until Shimizu pulled you to the ground by the back of your shirt. Two boys leapt over you and rolled gracefully - almost like they’d done this too many times.

Miraculously, the watermelon survived the fall.

Koutarou was at your side quickly, “Y/N, are you okay?” He almost looked like he’d cry, but you shrugged him off and sat up.

“Maybe whiplash, maybe a concussion, maybe death.” You said, rubbing your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out.”

As you were pulled to your feet, you heard them talking about you. “Woah, Bokuto, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” One of the two boys said. You inwardly snickered because, despite everything, Koutarou didn’t have a girlfriend. Volleyball was his one true love right now. That and he was staying dedicated to his future soulmate.

“No!” Kutarou called out, starting his spiel about how he isn’t going to date before his soulmate arrives, and whatever. You’d heard it too many times to care. Though he did abandon your side so that left Akaashi to help you to your feet.

You mumbled out a thank you to him, barely managing to regain your balance.

“She’s your sister?” Someone squealed, and they turned their attention to you.

“Yep, Bokuto Y/N.” Kou wrapped an arm around your shoulders, snatching a piece of watermelon from the plate you held.

They all looked at you for confirmation and you unravelled yourself from your brother's grasp. “Yep.” You said, turning away from them.

In the corner of your eye, you saw the time on your clock countdown from 5.

You were frozen in place. Not out of excitement, or fear, or anything. Just because it was a little shocking.

Maybe in some other timeline you were jumping with joy but, unlike Kou, you didn’t have any feelings either way towards your future soulmate. There wasn’t any denial to meet them, or any sort of pure love. In fact, you’d rather your soulmate got to experience life before they decided to stay with you. You didn’t want to hold them back from their dreams, whoever they may be.

Of course, there was still that twinkle of excitement. It was only natural, you were going to see your soulmate, who wouldn’t be excited?

In perfect time, you looked up and met eyes with a black haired boy wearing the Nekoma uniform. He was standing next to Kenma - who you had met two days prior - his eyes met yours and you could see the wave of emotions in his face. It was almost funny to watch. Soon, your expression shifted from amazement (not because he was attractive, although you wouldn’t deny that) to pure amusement.

Only Akaashi had noticed this moment, and he was smirking. You didn’t even need to face ehim fully to see that. Kenma was sharing a smirk too, so you could only assume he had realised this.

“Hey, Koutarou.” You tapped on your brother's shoulder, making sure you had his full attention before you pointed at the boy whose hair resembled that of a rooster - he started walking over, so you hoped he would be in ear shot.

“What’s up.” He whipped his head around to you. As funny as the sight was you needed to keep a straight face.

“Who is that?” Koutarou looked at the black haired boy and grinned.

“That is Kuroo Tetsuro.” He said just as the boy in question arrived. “Why?” He hummed, looking you directly in the eyes with a look that would have been terrifying to anyone else. “Is my baby sister in love at first sight?” He gushed, squeezing your cheeks a little too hard.

You shoved him off and rubbed your cheeks. “No,” you said bluntly, “he’s my soulmate. He’s got weird hair though, but I guess we can work on that.” You shrugged, eyeing him up. “They made hair gel for a reason.” Koutarou was shocked, to say the least, but Akaashi was pulling him away before he could tackle you for answers.

Kuroo looked down at Kenma with a shocked expression, the younger boy only turning his attention back to his PsP.

“You’re a little young to be my soulmate.” Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck.

“Who said we had to start dating now?” You asked, glaring lightly.

He cleared his throat and nodded slowly. Then he flashed you a smirk and you instinctively rolled your eyes, “I thought you’d fall for me ‘cause of my looks, ya know?” A little cocky, but that was fine.

You snorted and covered your face, trying not to laugh directly in his face - it really was a struggle. “As if,” waving him off, “have you seen Kou’s friends? I’m used to being surrounded by hot guys. I don’t really care what you look like.”

You weren’t a hopeless romantic, and you’d come to find out that neither was he. And sure, you didn’t start dating the moment you met each other like most soulmates do, but you were content with being friends for a while. Slowly, when you were both older, more settled, less reckless, you decided to take the next step. Sure, you weren’t perfect, but neither was he. You loved him nonetheless, and he loved you.

----

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[rosaetae]

stay warm this winter— three

☇ “And do me a favor. Stay warm this winter. xx.”

part one / part two / part three

➣ pairing: reader x hoseok

➣ genre: exes2enemies2lovers!au, angst, CEO!hoseok

➣ word count: 10.9k words

➣ a/n: hello darlings. thank you for reading this three-part series! it means the world to me that a lot of you found this story so invigorating and worth the read. i know you’ve been anticipating this part and i apologize on my end because i really did have trouble trying to complete the end of their chapter. i do hope you enjoy this last bit and i hope you all are doing well during this time. i hope you guys are safe and staying the fuck inside :D 

➣ summary: when a young ceo arrives in the area one winter day, everyone is falling in love with him and his charm. and quite ironically for you, you’ve already fell down that hole before.

Hoseok doesn't know how to tell you.

The night he was formally accepting the position that he has worked so hard for, he loved making eye contact with you during his thank you. The irony of the whole situation in itself was laughable from afar— if one knew that him accepting the position meant leaving and you standing in the crowd all oblivious to the entirety of the acceptance, one would snicker or stifle a laugh at the adoring look that you gave him and the one that he returned. Albeit the irony, Hoseok would rather catch the look of you in a sea of thousands.

Perhaps, it is his fault for letting himself carelessly onto you— but as always, you have this odd energy that always and successfully pulls him towards you no matter what stands in the way, however, he can't make that an excuse for not telling you what he's always known. A sorry excuse that would be.

Though, he will not deny that every time he sees you, words are physically pulled straight from his mouth and there are no thoughts left in his head— hell, when it comes to you, he can't think in a straight line. If his thoughts took a sobriety test, it is no doubt that he would not pass it, as the very sole thought of your name or the image of your face has him drunk, intoxicated, higher than under influence in the world. A burning star, a reckless wildfire, he has a flaming urge to hold you— to let the pads of his thumb caress your cheek, to feel your chest rise and fall against his, and to never let go of you. His star. His wildfire.

He, admittedly, knew that there was no absolute way for him to tell you without breaking your heart.

Scratch that.

He knew that there no absolute way for him to tell you without breaking his heart.

He knows this.

He knows that each second that he puts it off to the side, the longer he would lose you forever. A bottle in the ocean, unsure of where it goes. He knows that there truly is no easy way to tell you. Words aren't as easy to come by when it comes to you— you aren't the press waiting for one wrong thing to say or an ambassador waiting to be impressed. No, no, no, you are someone who deserves heart-engraved words. He knows that you don't make it easy either. From the way your eyes light up when you see him or the way you smile— and god, was it hard to see that smile again, especially the smile that was honourably earned by him. The rarity of the curls of your lips and the ivory pearls strung beneath your nose that make an appearance due to him is a privilege, one that he is greatly proud to announce.

Hoseok knows this, but he, being completely blindsided (because who could think properly when it comes to you), chooses not to.

And here you are— you don't know how to bring it up.

Having told the rather big news that only seemed so big to you (and only you), you knew that if you brought it up, you risk losing him again.

Simple as that.

It is an inevitable— one that circles your mind more than you realize, but it can never be brought up when your eyes meet his or his presence lingers in the same room; he, in more ways than one, makes you crazy.

Hoseok always made you crazy— the biggest tease you've ever met and the biggest sweetheart you managed to fall in love with... and to leave.

Maybe that is why you refuse to bring it up or to even mention it. He doesn't know that you know, but he sure as hell knew he was going to leave in the first place. Even this, you are so frightened of losing him again. To have to deal with saying goodbye and not knowing when to see him again— all over again—, you will not be able to bare it. At least, not when you were ready this time.

You will admit, before you were told about him moving back to Brandmont, your hopeless romantic side got the best of you and thought that maybe this was the time you both were meant to be. Maybe because he finally knew why you left in the first place, or that you were emotionally and financially stable, or that you were letting yourself fall in love with him all over again.

And that's why it is so hard to bring it up.

If you do, you are bound to lose him again. Gripping onto sand, letting the bits slip and slip and slip from your hands. 

You are bound to let your heart break once again.

Every Wednesday and Friday, you look forward to your lunch break. Before, it's never been a big deal, but once the hand hits 1:00 PM, your heart jumps, and you're immediately taking your keys to drive to the place you previously called to pick up the food you called in for.

The best part— Allen seems more peachy each day you show up and force him to chug down a new drink you get for him.

"Allen! This one's a peach mango smoothie."

"I hope you like green tea lattes because apparently this one is the best in town."

"I know, Allen, I'm amazing. I got you a power smoothie and you don't even have to thank me."

Maybe you tease him a lot, but it's what proves to you that he is capable of holding some sort of personality in the workplace. Besides, it's not like he can say no to a free drink.

In the past, when you would visit, the sole thought of Hoseok moving to Brandmont flies over your head each time you take a step into his office with his lunch. It's as if seeing his grin when he notices it's you who enters his office washes away all of the worries that has you worked up.

It's different than how he, before, wouldn't even dare spare a glance at you. As if you were something so vile that is worth saving his eyesight for. The first time you saw him again, you almost couldn't breathe or even register in that moment that it was him right in front of you. Hell, when you stepped forward he retracted so fast, it was as if you spit hellfire in his face.

And now, you see him with each living minute you can and when you do, he doesn't sneer away or avoid eye contact. He'd raise his eyes stiffly, and when his eyes focus on yours and comprehend that it's you in living form standing in front of him, you would notice that his shoulders immediately relax, and occasionally, a smile would grow on his face.

One day, Hoseok was in a middle of a meeting and instead of waiting in his office for him to come in, you sit in front of Allen's desk, a smile on your face as you place his random concoction in front of him. You got him another green tea latte, iced, because it was surprisingly warm that day.

"Are you here to bother me?" Allen presses, his eyes not tearing away from his computer as you shrug, sipping at your own coffee you had the luxury to buy yourself.

"As always," you quirk, throwing a wink at him as he lets out a dreadful sigh that leads to release a tiny laugh, amused by how annoyed he is with you. "You love it when I talk to you, admit it. I'm your only friend in this building."

He lets out a slight offended gasp. "I have other friends, too."

"Your computer doesn't count."

There, he lets out a chuckle, shaking his head before he gives you a look. "Don't you have a lap to sit on?"

And with that, you're laughing, gaping at how bluntly he let that roll of his tongue, and it seems that your laugh triggered him to laugh, and now you two were bathing in fits of loud chuckles that echoed in the room and probably annoyed other employees.

"Allen."

The respectable noise of what is Jung Hoseok's voice rang true enough to stop the laughter that elicited from you and Allen's throat. The way the silence preceded was different amongst you both, in which Allen immediately shut his mouth whereas you still had an amused grin on your face as your chuckles simply fades out into a decrescendo. You turn your head to face him, watching at his hard features flickers from you and Allen. When you glance at Allen, his head is dropped to his keyboard, making you roll your eyes at Hoseok.

"In my office, ___," he speaks as if a father scolding his child. You roll your eyes at the gravity of his command.

You grab the food that you set on the chair next to you and the cupholder, you leaning in quietly to Allen. "I got this."

He doesn't say a word as you trail behind Hoseok, him opening his door, and leaving his hand flat on it for you to enter. Your arm brushes his torso, but you ignore such contact.

If there was anything you can do, it was not to shine a fearful eye towards Hoseok, even when he is the most intimidating person in the room.

Once the door closes and you've set his lunch on his desk, you turn around to face him, raising an eyebrow. It was as if once the door closed, his previous demeanor completely disappeared because now there's a small smile on his face, completely distinct from his hard gaze towards you and Allen.

"Really?"

He mindlessly approaches his lunch, taking it out of the bag along with the forks and napkins.

"Hoseok," you begin, crossing your arms sternly at him. Never mind his statement, you were more concerned about your new-becoming friend that just so happens to tremble under this man's gaze.

"Hm?"

You scoff, narrowing your eyes at how different he easily can be. "Hoseok, you've got to stop treating Allen like that."

"What do you mean?" To that, you roll your eyes.

"The boy can't even rack up the nerve to look you in the eye," you tell him as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. "He cares about his job— do I have tell you again?"

"___," he stops, placing the plastic fork on top of the take-out box. "There's a way things work under this building, and Allen is my—"

"He's your personal assistant," you finish, dragging out the last part as if he was your own mother lecturing you. "I'm not saying be besties and drink beers with the guy, I'm telling you to stop treating him like you're about to fire him and ruin him for life. It's like he can't even enjoy one little moment such as having small talk with me or even drink a smoothie that I bought for him."

Then you pause. A dramatic one that catches his attention, causing him to look up, an eyebrow arched.

"You're jealous," you conclude.

The sheer incredulousness forming on his face in reaction to your wild accusation allows him open his mouth and close it immediately after, struck with complete awe at your insane conclusion. However, you don't let his words come out of his mouth as you open yours.

"Nuh-uh, you don't get to give me a reason because whatever excuse that comes out of your mouth doesn't matter since you're treating your one and only loyal personal assistant like complete shit." Shaking your head hastily, you wave a hand, dismissing Hoseok's next words. "You know, you're lucky you have a personal assistant. If I had one, I wouldn't be taking advantage of them and then kick em' to the curb."

"___, why would I be jealous?"

"Maybe because I actually like talking to him more than you?" You threw that in there to purposely tease him, amusement purely being evident in your tone, but by the way his face hardened and his eyebrow was raised, the road didn't exactly go both ways. "I was kidding—"

"I have a reputation to uphold, and I won't let that slip just for anyone," he interrupts, causing you to pinch your lips back into your mouth. You wanted to reply with: "You did for me", but decided against it as he continues to speak. "Besides, I have you way head over heels for me to even think that's a possible reason."

Hearing his former, you blantently blink at his words, shaking your head slightly. "Woah there, big guy." You scoff lightly at his cocky remark and the expanse of how big his ego was growing right before your eyes. "What was that? You become "boss man" for nearly a week and now you're thinking you got the biggest dick in the room?"

He lowly laughs, standing up and circling around his desk to lean against it, shoving his hands into his pockets. "More like I've noticed you warming up to me. I know you don't drop off lunch for just anyone."

Hoseok's words confuse you, but all you could do was respond with a defensive riposte. "That doesn't mean—"

"Keep denying it all you want," he cuts you off, knowing that he caught you sheepishly flustered. The words are trapped in your throat before he looks at you with a smile. "But know that the feeling is just as mutual."

You stare in silence. "What?"

"It takes two to tango," he smirks. "May I remind you that I don't make dinner for just anyone, ___."

His statement makes your heart skip a beat. You weren't sure if it was because he found out that you barely make yourself dinner the night he found out everything, but he did make an effort to show up at your doorstep after your shift at times with a bag full of groceries.

The first night he showed up after that night, you had just gotten out of the shower when he rang the doorbell. At first, to have him see you in your pajamas and wet hair, you were confused about his whereabouts being anywhere near you after your shift right before he asked to make you dinner. The question was straightforward, but it did take you aback before you ultimately agreed.

He made snarky comments about your pajamas while you watched him cook in the kitchen, offering him a variety of drinks as you felt bad that you had nothing to really serve him as a decent person who has a guest in their house, but he didn't really seem to care as he settled for water and focused on making curry that night.

From then on, it wasn't the last time you'd find him at your front step after you showered.

"So what I'm hearing is," you begin, walking towards him to forwardly taunt him. "You're crazy for me, Jung Hoseok."

You walk close enough to place your hands on his shoulders, an action that causes him to raise his eyebrows at your sudden movement, but it also had him automatically planting his hands to your hips.

There's an attraction between you two that even he can feel. It could be that your thoughts remained of him, filling your mind of that moment when he planted his lips on yours right in front of your mother and of course, you'd be lying if you said that you didn't want that moment to happen again.

"Hm, but not as crazy as you are for me," he lowly muses, purposely bringing you closer with a simple pull of your hips.

"Want to bet that?"

"Surely, you'll lose," he says, a smirk pulling on his face. You shoot him a look, challenging him before you're noticing that the space between you two had gotten extremely small.

Time is slower in your head, more anticipation than when he last caught you by utter surprise and kissed you right on the spot (in front of your mother). But this time— this moment— was achingly painful as you hoped silently he would pull back, but rather be the one to—

Your body acts to its own accord, bringing your lips onto his with. It was more gentle, something that was distinct from the way he smashed his lips onto yours, but you also don't miss the way he sighs into it, as if he had been widely anticipating it as you are, admittedly, enjoying the moment just as much.

Unsure why, but that kiss brought more nostalgia than when he very first placed his lips on yours. It reminds you of the very beginning when he kissed you when dropping you off home. That one was soft and tender— innocent. It wasn't like this where each second and each movement got more intense as if you both received rain after a drought.

Deciding to dwell in deeper, you trail your kisses from his lips to his jaw to his neck, lips pressing gently onto his skin, one that makes him release a slight groan from his mouth, causing you to smirk. You tease him a bit more, bringing yourself closer to his body while he allows you, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist.

And just before anything gets too out of hand, you pull away, a satisfied smirk pulling at your lips as you look at your artwork before you.

He looks bewildered, eyes slightly in a daze, but more worried if he did something wrong. His lips were plump and pouted from the absence of you. However, seeing your smug look as you bite down at your lip amusedly, he narrows his eyes.

"I have to get back to work," you mutter quietly, before he pulls you in again, discarding your priority. However, teasing him further, you pull back, placing your palm against his chest as a smile stretches on your face. "Your food is going to get cold."

To that, he rolls his eyes. "Tease."

"Mhm," you smirk before you feel his hands let go your body, already missing his hands on you as you took a step back, patting his chest. "Still want to bet that I'm crazy for you, Hoseok?"

He scoffs half-heartedly. "I'll give you this round."

You smile in return before you grab your bag that you placed on one of his chair before leaning in to sneak a swift peck on his cheek. His smirk enlarges a bit as you head towards his door.

Throwing a glance at him over your shoulder as you turn the knob, you notice that he's watching you with a look that nearly looks content.

"Be nice to Allen!" You call out before completely disappearing out of his office.

Yana, being the ever so concerned, makes a sudden appearance in your office right as you were getting ready to leave that night.

Her presence makes you jump, you quickly chuckling sheepishly at the realization that it was your friend. Your hand immediately slapped over your heart, you shaking your head hastily to calm yourself down while she comfortably smiles at you.

"Hi," you breathe out, regaining your steady breathing. "I was just about ready to go home. What's up?"

"Nothing much," she answers, closing the door behind her. "Just, uhm... I heard from a certain birdie that Hoseok is leaving."

Yana's attentive eyes probably doesn't miss the way you pause for a mere moment. She's usually a hawk to body language, but you try to cover it up by continuing to shove your laptop into your bag. "Did you?"

"Yes," she nods slowly. There's also a pause in between that and her next sentence, careful with her next words as if she were treading through dangerous waters. "Three weeks to be exact."

"Hm," was all you manage to say.

She probably notices how you're avoiding eye contact, and it doesn’t take her long to connect two and two together. "You know, don't you?"

Refusing to say a word towards her presumption, you grab the handles of your bag, avoiding her eyes that she wanted you to look at. "___."

"What?" You may have came off a bit more aggravated than you let yourself out to be, but you sincerely did not want to talk about it with anyone, including Yana.

"Have you guys talked about it?"

You blink at her blankly. Your blank stare causes her to make a face, pressing you to continue. "___—"

"No," you snap. "We haven't talked about it— he doesn't know that I know."

"And why not?"

"I don't know."

"Well, why haven't you addressed it?"

"I don't know!" You exasperate, setting your bag down. "I don't know why he hasn't said anything and I don't know why I haven't said anything either, but I do know that I don't want to talk about it, but I have to— we have to, I know— but I can't, okay? I can't bring myself to bare that conversation again—"

"___."

"I just got him back, Yana," you breathe out. Legs were so numb, you were so close to collapsing on the floor. "For a split second, I just want it to be fine. Where I can actually figure out where Hoseok and I are going, but it just sucks, because when things are going fine, the world just turns its back and now I am stuck in this... limbo again."

She stares at you, probably confused to see this foreign person that stands in front of her. It is true that you were never like this with just anyone in your life and you sure as hell didn't think you would be, but this wasn't just anyone.

"You are so in love, you moron. Nadine is going to freak," she tries to lighten up the mood, pointing out something that is nostalgic but nearly unfamiliar as it processes in your mind. To her joke, you let out a light-hearted, yet defeated scoff, shaking your head.

"If I bring it up, Yana... I already know where it's going to end."

She lets out a sigh. "Even then, you have to talk to him sooner or later."

"If I do, I'll lose him again."

"You don't know that. It will kill you more inside knowing that you're just waiting for a goodbye. If you talk to him soon, it doesn't have to be that way."

"It will be that way."

Yana inhales sharply before smiling up at you. "Tristian and I had conflicts back in our earlier years, mainly because of our careers. We weren't always together." She dismissed the look you shot at her, you completely unaware to such story. "Wrong timing does exist in this forsaken world, but if the love is there, if it's strong enough, you two will cross paths again."

Her last part lingers in the air for you. Adamancy is what's keeping it from letting it rest easy on your chest even when your mind is fighting to accept it. The logical part of you is yelling and begging to accept that you and Hoseok aren't meant to be, but the irrational part of you is louder. It's telling you that maybe Hoseok will change his mind and stay, or maybe that you could move to Brandmont with him— but these possibilities absurd and reckless.

The internal battle drains your through process, causing you to let out another sigh, one that you felt like you held in for awhile.

"Why is it that when we're so close, absolutely nothing goes right?"

Yana watches you, empathetically, knowing that the one thing going good for you was turning upside down. "It's never easy trying to be with someone you love."

And as much as you hate it, she's right: it never is.

Beau has recently been baffled by your presence the minute you step into the café, and that's due to the fact that you never really give a forewarning.

The times you would show up with your mother, it was always early in the morning where the sun just barely peeked from the ocean and Beau would have your mother's coffee on the table just where you both would sit, perfectly overlooking the view.

The last time you visited Kona before moving to Trinity, Beau was sad to hear, but like him and his sunshine-like persona, he has always responded with, "Kona will always be here" and bid you the best of luck. Be it in college and in life. Maybe that's why you were so fond with Beau and Kona— they would always be there waiting for you. When you came back from Trinity, of course it was like you to visit it— even with your mother. She didn't recognize the atmosphere, nor the sunrise you've watched plenty of times, nor Beau, but she did like the taste of the coffee she usually orders.

Today, you show up at a decent time in the morning where it was decently busy inside with your mother.

"Well, well. If it isn't two lovely faces." Beau was in the midst of pouring coffee for someone on the bar as he greeted you both. Your mother, having no recollection of this foreign place, stays silent beside you, but smiling for her, you cheerily wave at Beau who politely waves back.

"Do I know him?" She whispers beside you. Her voice is small and curious, as if there's this remnant of her that answers for her 'yes', but it was gone with the wind along with many fragments of her memories.

"Yes," you respond before you carefully lead her to a booth, somewhere more comfortable than a stool at a bar. It may feel different for you, but to her, this is practically her first time.

Beau doesn't need to walk over to your table to grab your orders, but with one simple glance from you, he figures it's the usual, one that begins with the signature coffee that you and your mother both love.

Your mother's fairly quiet, pointing out things aloud such as the interior design of the café or even the smell that bounces off the wall to somehow start or maintain a conversation. And usually, you tune it out, nodding with every observant statement she makes, but this time around was different. You listen intently.

"The lighting is just right for a café."

"That's nice. They have a patio."

"It smells warm."

Beau drops by, setting down the coffee in front of you both gently and flashes you a smile. It's slightly sympathetic, but Beau knows how much you've been through with your mother.

When he leaves, she's quiet, stirring her coffee with the spoon. You watch silently, your eyes following the spoon that clinks onto the brim every now and then.

"Mom, did you ever think that Hoseok and I could've worked if I had just told him?"

She doesn't respond, but she does look up at you. You always hated when she met your eyes because you forget that there's not much life in them— it's devoid of all memories and recognition pertained to you.

She would blink, and you wish that with each blink that a piece of her would come back, but to your misfortune, it never does.

Inhaling, you relax your shoulders. "I'd be a liar if I said I don't always think about it, because I do. I think about how easy it was for me to leave and how easy it was for him to let me— but I needed him to."

Not a call or a text message from him after you had left his apartment— not one single notification. It killed you at how easy it was for him to let you say goodbye and leave his apartment without putting up a fight or not even just one question of why or when.

"And just when I was in a moment of peril and complete doubt, and I've entirely given up hope, he runs after me."

Perhaps it was the worst timing of it all. Sadness took over you in one gulp the minute you entered a new foreign place of what was to be your home for the next few years and it had been a week of adjustment. The bar had saved you from that week of pure misery and it just so happened you took a souvenir home that night.

You remember something was ringing that morning, and it wasn't your hungover consciousness that made you think you were hearing that, but it was real, loud, and piercing through your skull mercilessly. Stumbling over blurry lines that weren't originally there, you manage towards the front door, fingers fumbling with the lock, unsure and completely foreign to the new lock.

Deciding to open it without looking at who it may be was the first rookie mistake, the next was opening it while the only shred of clothing you had was a t-shirt that barely covered your behind, and finally, it was letting your so-called souvenir of the night walk out of the bedroom in plain sight of your guest at the door.

It takes your slow mind awhile to realize that Hoseok, the man you drank to forget about the night prior, is in front of you. You watched, in slow motion, how his eyes turned from hope to betrayal in a speechless movement. His eyes flicker from yours to the man behind you attempting to put on his pants in a hasty fashion. It was that look on his face that—

"— I knew then that I'd lose him. I lost him once, but that moment was just a cherry on top of 'forever'."

You try to make light of your story, of that situation, but it's hard to when it, admittedly, elicits a sharp pain somewhere on your body.

"I was so happy to see him again," you bite your tongue. "He was bitter for awhile, which is— you know— understandable. But you know how there's always that silver lining in dire situations?" You smile, tapping your finger at your mug, thinking about the banana nut muffin. Sweet banana, soft enough to melt in the mouth complemented with chunks of walnuts compiled into one delicacy that was good enough to share. How a simple gesture could mark itself onto your brain.

"We had that."

You roll your lips inwards before inhaling sharply.

"Mom, I don't want to lose him. I've lost so much in my life and for once, he is the one thing I don't want to lose." As she stares into your eyes as if a stranger, you wipe your tears sloppily with the back of your hand, knowing very well that you lost her. "I love him, Mom. I don't think I can ever love anyone else but him because he's all I've ever known— and god, it's like the world is spinning uncontrollably and I can't breathe." You didn't realize that the journey of the bottom of your palms reach up to your glass eyes, your mother catches them halfway through, encasing her warm hand over yours.

"It's okay," she coaxes you, innocent eyes staring right at you. "Breathe."

Most times when you would go to your mother, she always had the right thing to say. It would come off as a litany or even a full-proof speech from the bottom of her endearing heart. But as you look at her concerned, yet confused eyes, her thumb rubbing gently just over your skin, you realized that though it is not a speech or a run-on list, it was all you needed to hear from her right now.

And who were you kidding? Hoseok was the sun and you were the moon, there have been plenty of stories and tales of how the sun and moon can never, ever be together— just as there is no way that you could ever be with him. Not in this realm, at least.

One dreary day when you drop off food once again, your timing wasn't as impeccable as before because Allen needs him for an urgent meeting.

Hoseok flashes an apologetic look at you prior, but you shake your head, silently telling him that it was absolutely not a big deal and you assured him you'd be right there when he gets back as he gets up to walk out of his office. Allen gives Hoseok a knowing nod as he walks past him, but as you watch him leave to the board room where you once barged into during a very important meeting, you notice that Allen doesn't follow or scurry after him.

Instead, he turns to you, meeting your eyes before just striding over towards you. You were in the midst of eating your salad, sheepishly wiping away the dressing on your lip as you offer him a smile. "What's up?"

He, as bland as he can be, doesn't give you an answer, but what concerns you is that he sucks in a sharp breath, as if he was going to say something that would hurt you. Before you repeat your question, he's pulling something out of his back pocket.

There in front of you, he holds out a folded piece of paper. There were indents, as if it were crumpled prior, but seeing how it was chosen to be folded, it increased your curiosity. You look up at Allen, an amused smile on your lips to lighten up the mood. "Is this your way of confessing your undying love to me, Allen?"

Allen rolls his eyes at your way to ruin an ever so serious moment easily, shoving the paper in your face until you took it in your hands. "No. This is from Hoseok."

The first thing that pops into your head is the entire ordeal of him moving to Brandmont.

It makes your face fall, knowing that you don't even need to read the letter to know what it's about. Allen's expression lowers as well, noticing how quick your amused smile had broken so fast when Hoseok's name came out of his mouth.

"I'm sure you know," he begins, your eyes falling down to your lap of where the paper you held hovered over. It really doesn't take a genius to figure out that the piece of letter addresses what has been spinning in your head and keeping you up at night restless. "You always come by and you look like you're thinking of ways to bring it up, but you never do."

Allen presses his lips into a thin line, but your mouth is shut. You didn't think it was obvious to him. You're blinking, unsure of how to respond because in your hand is a letter that addresses everything that has been running endless miles in your mind and in a moment, you're going to read it.

"It's not his first letter. He wrote a bunch, but I don't think he can find a a right way to tell you, but I guess that one was his best bet because I found it in one of his folders and I know that he can't say it. Not to your face, at least. I know I shouldn't be tampering with mail, but it was on his desk and you deserve to have some sort of closure— to talk to him about it."

It takes you a moment, but as you look up to meet his eyes, you smile, thinking about how he didn't have to do this for you, but he did. "Thank you, Allen."

"Anytime," he responds before he takes that moment to leave, leaving you in Hoseok's office with a letter that would address everything in your hand.

___,

This isn't my ideal goodbye to you.

I had it in my head. I planned it in bed and rehearsed every line knowing very well that I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing I have to break your heart the next day.

It'd start off as coming over to your apartment, and you'd be fresh out of the shower because I know you usually like to shower after you get home from work— which you were. I usually would come to make dinner for us, but I hadn't planned to that night. Then you'd smile at me and I'd think about ripping the bandage off just like that at that moment, but I knew your smile would be too much to bare at the moment, because it took awhile to see that smile again.

Then I hit the restart button. You'd get out of the shower and I'll be there to give you a kiss and take a whiff of your shampoo. This time, I planned to make dinner that night— probably one of your favorite dishes. Before cooking, I'd hold you and you'd ask me how was work and then I'd tell you about my day, while I ask about yours— but I knew that hearing your voice would be something I'd miss so much and I wouldn't be able to even ease my way into what I had to tell you.

The point is— there is no good or right way of saying goodbye to you.

And for one, I don't write letters, and I also don't send long text messages or long voicemails for you to decide whether to delete it or to keep it, so I thought I'd settle for a letter.

I hope you aren't too mad at me for leaving. It's true, I came here for the hotel and only the hotel, until I ran into you. I nearly wanted to toss myself out of that building the minute I saw you in front of me.

Then I noticed you hadn't changed. Not one bit.

You had a smile still of gold, one that could easily steal hearts because I know it stole mine. You are still as stubborn as before, one that speaks her mind and what is right. You drink the same exact coffee and eat the exact same fruit. And out of everything that could have changed, the only thing constant was that you still managed to believe in me.

I think that's why I can't say a proper goodbye. It'd be too hard to be apart from you again. And as much as I want to, I can't stay— not when I have a company that depends on me.

I have loved you since the beginning, and you made me realize that I still love you now.

So I hope that when you read this, you'll understand.

And do me a favor. Stay warm this winter. xx.

Hoseok

The water is gentle. Calm and serene as you let it tickle your limbs, carrying you away further and further without even a single doubt in your senseless mind and if you close your eyes, you'll forget how far away you're being drifted away from shore.

Hoseok is not only the sun that kisses your skin, he is also the water that engulfs you.

This is how easy it was for you to get carried away.

There are red flags and warnings that were given on a platter to you, right under your puny nose, yet you still dared to swim. It's ignorance dressed in bliss, and unknowingly enough, you are reaching the deep end— going deeper and deeper without a single thought because you've swam enough times to know how it feels when the water embraces you that you subconsciously tell yourself that this time is no different.

First, the water is gentle, as you know it to be. It's gentle enough to let you swim afloat, fooling you into thinking that it will keep you safe, but beneath the surface is the inevitable, the unknown. Yet, you still manage to swim in it, even though it will lead you to your death. You've spent more time with him more than you can count on your own hands and each time, you have been acting like you don't know a single thing. You don't think you made it obvious that you know, but you never bring it up.

The water grew unsteady each time it grew closer and closer to the inevitable day he would leave, and you allow it to toss and turn you as you don't spare yourself to open your mouth about the elephant in the rom.

But a rogue wave came over that night— the night before the goodbye.

"How would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

The question was abrupt. The question itself makes you freeze in place as you fumble with the bag of his lunch break food.

"___," he speaks to grab your attention that was still trying to think of an answer to his question. "Is that a yes?"

"Tomorrow night?" You spoke, blinking at him. He nods, awaiting your answer. You roll your lips inwards inside your mouth before looking down at the floor, your next words nearly cracking as they come out of your throat. "The night before you leave?" The words probably shook him up as bad as you let yourself say it because he's staring at you, unsure of what to say. Blank, empty, lost— you fill in the spaces for him. "I know that you're leaving."

"How long?" He frowns, furrowing his eyebrows, but his stare nonetheless hard. Like a shift, you were faced with the Hoseok who firstly threatened to kick you out after seeing you for the first time. "How long did you know?"

"Haein let it slip at the conference night."

The conference night was only a few weeks or more back, but it feels like it was just yesterday you nearly stumbled backwards hearing that Hoseok was moving back to Brandmont. You were applauding for the man you so much adored only to realize that he was leaving.

Hoseok remains silent, probably trying hard to think of a method to calm your frazzled nerves that he can probably sense are bursting through the walls. He, instead, takes a step forward.

"And we weren't ever going to talk about this?" You breathlessly snap, your voice cracking. Rogue wave. "You were going to wait until the night before to just what? Woo me over and give me one last kiss before you slip the letter in my bag and disappear?"

"Letter? Wait, ___, how—"

"I know about the letter. The one you were going to give me before you left," you answer for him. Pulled under. "It doesn't matter how, but it matters that you'd rather leave me a damn letter instead of just telling me." Trying to stay calm and collected is just as hard as taming the waters, and you're not sure why it's suddenly so hard when you've worked with clients brooding enough to make your ears steam, but this was a whole different territory. Sadly, one that was familiar.

"I wanted to tell you," he exhales. "I did, I really did. You think it was easy trying to think of words to tell you that I love you and I always have, but I have to leave because of my career?"

Of course, you knew it wasn't easy. You knew that much because you had to do the same. Own personal reasons are always getting in the way, but you out of everyone knows what it's like. A strange wave of deja vu hits you before you meet his eyes— his eyes used to hold so much light before they were shadowed by true fear and sadness.

"For awhile, I couldn't bring myself to tell you, so I wrote so many letters on how to properly say goodbye because the thought of having to break your heart— break my heart— to your face was too unbearable. And even then—"

You let out a scoff. "See, that's the difference between you and me, I at least told you that I was leaving. You weren't. You were going to leave me with a damn letter telling me to 'stay warm this winter' and all that crap— that's not fair."

"I know it's not fair! That's why I was going to tell you tomorrow night," he exhales, running a hand through his hair exasperatingly. "I was going to tell you tomorrow night. I was never going to leave you with that letter because you're right, you deserve at least that— I fucked up, okay? Can you blame me for wanting to spend every second with you instead of dwelling on the sole thought that we have to say goodbye again?" Stress hits him. He can nearly feel the vein in his neck popping as he tries to level his breathing, he is not stable.

A grace period takes place. It's enough time to have the waterworks start working in your eyes. They roll and fall and at this point, you'd rather have steam blow out of your ears in anger, or your face turn red as tomato, but heaven knows that Hoseok is the only person in your universe that can cause the waters in your world to work. You close your heads, inhaling sharply. "So what? 'Goodbye', then? 'Stay warm this winter', then?"

His eyes gaze up towards yours momentarily, but he stays silent. What is there to even say? You knew that he was leaving and you knew what he had to say— hell, you've read that damn letter over and over again trying to convince something to your subconscious. All there really is left to it is the goodbye.

The same excruciating goodbye that you both anticipated but convinced yourself enough that dragging it long enough will make it somehow disappear— but you knew better than to believe in that.

"This isn't how I wanted it to go," he mutters. It was quiet, but it was loud enough for you to hear.

Whirlpool. You're caught in a whirlpool. Spinning and spinning.

Tears pricked and your legs grew numb with each standing second. You aren't sure what the flood of feelings overwhelm you with, but it's enough to know that after a war of water that tugged and pulled, you have lost the losing game, and now you are sinking and sinking with so much of your useless arms trying to reach for the surface.

"___," he croaks, taking a step towards you.

You didn't realize that you hastily back away until you feel your own legs stumbling over itself. Eyes blink up at him, probably red and piercing with tears at the brink of your eyes. You don't ignore how your step back hurt him, a shred of pain slapping across his face.

This wasn't a damn whirlpool, this was a maelstrom and you were in the deep end, and there was no saving you.

"I need air."

As you move past him to the door, you ignore Allen's worried and concerned glance from his desk once you accidentally open the door a little too quick, struggling to get out of the building as fast as you can. You catch his glance for a moment, and he immediately stands from his desk with scrunched eyebrows when he notices that they were glassy, but before he can ask you what happened, you're disappearing and finding your way towards the elevator.

Allen's eyes meet with Hoseok's form through the small opening of his door that separated his office and the rest of the floor for a moment just before the door closed by itself. His hands were fisted, knuckles growing white— in aggravation or in pain, he wasn't sure— before letting himself walk towards his desk where the food you brought him sits, untouched.

At this time, the food you brought him was cold, just like the atmosphere that you left and just like the waters you couldn't escape.

You contemplated of calling in to work the next day and just hiding in the sole comforts of your sheets and letting your pillow soak up your salty tears, letting yourself unravel in the most nauseating and nostalgic way possible because it's not like it's the first time you've done that before— but that's what college ___ would've done and last time you checked, you weren't in college anymore.

But it sure as hell felt like your love life was.

You ended up going to work at the last begging minute, kicking at your sheets and muttering yourself some encouraging words to get your ass up and moving, and you were almost late.

Nadine greets you as usual, but there was an atmosphere that you presented because her face falls in the midst of her greeting. She frowns at you before you raise an eyebrow in question. "Are you sure you're okay to be working today?"

Assuming that Yana probably told Nadine that Hoseok was leaving, you gave her an unconvincing nod. "I'll be fine, Nadine." She gives you one more look before you go up to your office, letting impartial hello's leave your mouth at your coworkers who greeted you until you were sinking down in your seat, letting out a sigh.

For the first few hours of working, you try to distract yourself, hands being busy with your projects that you were determined to finish by the time you left to go back home. But as you pause to give yourself a break, eyes grazing up from your computer, you realize that on your desk was the bamboo tree, green and glorious, standing there. And if inanimate objects obtained human traits, this was one would taunt you, probably probe you to the earth's ends with the pain that is growing inside your chest.

That's when you decide to take your thirty, knowing that it was a risky game to tear your mind away from anywhere but work— your thoughts ready to be on full blast in your head when you decide to lie down.

Yana and Nadine walk into your office not so late after that where you're sprawled on your sofa that you barely ever use, exchanging looks with each other before Nadine decides to give a graceful nudge to your leg that hung over the arm of the furniture.

You groan, their presence irking a random nerve in your body as they bugged you at the worst time. "Leave me alone."

"If you were going to lay around all day during work, you should've called in," Yana points out as you open one eye to peer at her scolding stance before shutting it, bringing an arm to hang loosely over your eyesight.

"I'm on my thirty. Leave me alone."

"___," Nadine sighs next to Yana. She pities you. Reliving your life as a college brat with a college sweetheart to reach the same ending of the novel once again. "Just go home. You're hurting."

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, you may seem that way, but you can't work on a broken heart," Nadine throws in. She didn't like scolding, especially to someone so vulnerable and especially to someone like you who has never been in a vulnerable situation like this. It's fascinating in a melancholy way.

"Who said I had a broken heart?" Denial.

"___, did you ever say goodbye to him?"

You hesitate. Maybe if you said 'yes' maybe they'd leave. "No."

"Are you planning to?"

The question makes it hard for you to answer, so instead you stick with silence. Avoidance was a tactic that you try to, and ironically, avoid. Usually, you cross the bridge when you get there, facing all problems head on, but it is so odd how one person can change that— can change your mindset completely.

"You should see him before he leaves."

"It hurts him just as much, ___. It's not an easy thing to do. To say goodbye, that is." Yana clears, reaching over to place her cold hand over your bicep. Her touch is motherly, filled with empathy and comfort. The shoulder to stain your tears with, comfort food prepared for you, words that are always just right. Her touch makes you sigh, prying off your arm from your eyes to stare up into the lit celing. "It's alright to be hurting, but it's not okay to be avoiding it.

"Look, you love him, he loves you, that's enough. I'm not going to sugarcoat it anymore, but ___, understand that you got a whole life ahead of you, and so does he. Think about it: this might not even be the last goodbye, with the way the universe worked with bringing you guys together again? You will most likely see him again, and maybe even have to say goodbye again. Point is, just know that goodbyes don't necessarily mean forever."

"And besides, it is not like you two experienced these goodbyes because you both didn't love each other," Nadine adds in, an attempt at a smile only to fall when she realized the weight of her words. Your eyes flicker from the ceiling to look up at Yana and Nadine who awaits for you to react with expectant eyes.

Nadine takes a step forward to squat next to the sofa, encasing her hand with yours. Her hand was warm and sisterly. Cookie dough ice cream with a lineage of rom coms accompanied by face masks. "You both love each other, you and him have established that. And life is just a cruel ass bitch for tearing you apart, but that shouldn't break you guys. The stronger the pull, stronger the push, right?" Nadine scrunches her nose before shaking her head dismissively. "I don't fucking know, Clarke told me that over the phone— but for now, ___, you have to go and say goodbye. Trust me— trust us on this."

You look at them, eyes flickering from sister to mother, the very two people who have made your life wonderfully sane and insane all at once. They stand before you with encouraging closed lip smiles, one that wasn't urging in rush, but a simple nudge that they so hoped you would take. Your next round of tears prick at your eyes before you're breathing out sharply, "hugs. I want hugs, please."

It's sudden and unlike you, but Nadine and Yana don't hesitate as they lean in, embracing the entirety of your body that slouches on the sofa into their bodies, all of their lovely smells thrashing with each others as you feel them squeeze harder. Laughs ring in the air as your heart becomes full with them in your presence.

They pull back ever so slight, peering over at the streams down your face and your roseate cheeks and nose being the complete epitome of a girl who can't maintain her own raging emotions. It's a sight that is very foreign to them, but it is a sight they are grateful to have seen and you were just as grateful to have them be there.

You wipe t your tears, sheepishly laughing as Nadine grabs the tissue box on the table right next to the sofa. She wiggles the tissue under your nose, a laugh resonating from your throat as you grab it and smile once more at both of them.

"I'll talk to him. Thank you, guys."

Waiting is an anticipation game.

And you hate how it makes you feel. It is like walking down a corridor and each step you take, you realize that it never seems to end, even though you desperately wished it would.

However, once you find the brown mop of hair that belonged to the one person who smelled like a sweet summer day, you immediately stand up from the bench your leg kept anxiously bouncing on, watching as Hoseok exits smoothly out of the building of his own company, a briefcase in hand.

His tracks immediately come to a halt when seeing you.

Your strides carry you enough to where he was able to see that your nose was red and puffy. Surprisingly, your legs didn't buckle under your weight when you meet his gaze. Hoseok's stomach churns as he realizes that you may have been crying all night— or all day.

"I hate goodbyes," you breathe out sharply. Everything starting from your chest was unraveling like a silk red ribbon. "I hate goodbyes with a passion."

He stares at you, eyes softening when you try to take a moment to compose yourself.

"I kept telling myself that I don't— or shouldn't— regret leaving you," you begin. "While part of me think that's true because I had my reasons, the other is completely wrong because you deserved to at least know the real reason why I left. I guess the real reason was buried under my excuses of other reasons that accumulated, but even then— you deserved to know the real reason.

"Saying goodbye to you was probably the hardest thing I ever had to do, Hoseok," you state. "And I was hurt and betrayed because of how easy it was for you to let me. I can't take back time to fix that dreadful day you found me with someone else when you finally made up your mind, but I can only tell you now that I only ever wanted the best for you and that I was never tired of you or us. I was hurt and I did the most dumbest thing that a person can do to swallow their pain.

"I love you and I was so scared of losing you again," you choke out. "And then I realized that there is nothing that I can do because as much as I'd want to fly with you over to Brandmont and witness your greatness beside you, I have greatness of my own here."

"___."

"Maybe it wasn't our time— again. And I was debating if I should even come and say goodbye to you tonight because I hate, absolutely hate, goodbyes," you state, a self-deprecating laugh following after. "I almost didn't because I knew I was going to break my own heart doing so."

"What changed?"

"I didn't come here to say goodbye," you finally state. "I came here to tell you to..."

Hoseok wants to hold you, wrap your body up and buy you a coffee at Kona's to keep you warm. He wants to take your hand and take you home. He wants to wake up in the morning beside you again and relive those memories of when he would kiss your bare shoulder and make you breakfast. Instead, he awaits your answer. "To...?"

"To take care. And that I'll see you later— whenever that'll be."

Your words take him by surprise. They were like the smell after the storm, or a dessert with water— it is what makes his gut drop, but his heart beat. His actions, in turn, take you by surprise because he takes your hand in his, his eyes sticking onto your intertwined digits before looking up at you.

"And that I love you." Finally, you have told him that and it is as if a supernova has swelled because in a complete second, he pull you into an embrace, one hand resting on your head and the other on your back. It is urgent and needy, but it is gentle and sweet. It is the burnt grilled cheese, the chicken parmesan, the banana nut muffin. "Never stopped."

"I'm glad you came," he mutters into your ear, his voice so close you easily make out the tones of his voice. One that you'll miss having near you so dear much. "That you came to see me."

"Do me a favor?" You gulp into his ear, not wanting him to see the way tears have welled up in your eyes to complement your already scarlet tainted nose. "Don't say goodbye." You feel him tense at that, only for you to hold him closer— if that was even possible. "Please."

And like that, he obeys. Not because he wanted to, but because he knew that you are trying your very best to keep your composure— a tactic he knows all too well. "Okay."

You thought that the last time you said goodbye, it wasn't meant to be. Those youthful years of being in love with someone who you even thought to be the one just wasn't meant. And maybe this time around, it wasn't meant to be either. The past recent moments where reliving the nostalgic feelings to blindside you into thinking that he really is the one just wasn't meant. And that's alright.

As Nadine had wisely once said, it wasn't like you both left each other because you didn't love each other— no, you loved him with all your heart. If there is anything you knew, it was just that. And you'd like to assume that it went both ways.

The phone rings on the desk as you put it on speaker, awaiting for the one person you really do hope would answer. Your heart jumps when you hear the sound of the phone being picked up, followed by a hello. "Hi, Allen," you gleam.

The night you clung onto Hoseok with nose stuffy and eyes being pricked like needles with your own damn tears was the last time you saw him. And that's partially because you let it unfold that way and mostly because you knew that if you saw him anytime after that and before he departed, you would've dwelled back into heartbroken college ___. And as much as a big catharsis is necessary in your supposed love story, you like your silk pillows too much to have them ruined by your own torn and raw emotions.

No kiss that night, either. Things like a kiss as bidding a farewell were cheesy and cliché, but in truth, you knew that if you kissed him, if you allowed your lips to perfectly and ineffably mold into his like a clay into a delicate sculpture, the sole reality of your former and present self would wave over you once and for all, and that sculpture you have created would fall down into its demise. Perhaps, it's for the best. Instead, you settle for a cling, embracing him as if he were the last shred of sun you were ever going to have for this long winter just before walking away with your heart weighing heavy in hopes that maybe you'll see him again.

But even as seasons come and go, the sun will always rise again.

You did, however, call Allen the next morning when you woke up, knowing he deserves a goodbye just as well— and one last infamous irritating and witty remark from you. He wasn't very amused that you called him on his cell phone that you probed Hoseok before he left to get, but you knew that under his annoyed tone, he was glad to hear your voice. You bid him farewell, one where you told him you'll miss bringing him drinks to have him try and advised him to not take Hoseok's serious, macho boss-like demeanor seriously. And baffling enough, the feeling is mutual on his end.

The office hasn't said much about your relationship with Hoseok after most of the building has come to live off of the daily juicy gossip between you two, and you assume it's Nadine's doing— probably announcing the sad end of such story that, in retrospect, could've ended perfectly if reality wasn't a harsh bitch.

In a semi-perfect world, you and Hoseok would attempt to keep in touch as much as possible, be it texting or phone calls, but the time zone and him being almighty busy, it didn't fortunately unravel that way for you both. In a semi-perfect world, you'd find yourself swimming in pools of hopeful wishing that maybe, just maybe, he'll call you while you're at work just to hear your voice or you'd send him a text every time you're reminded of him of the bamboo tree he's gifted to you. As much as it would be wonderful to have that split moment, it never happens and it remains in the confinement of your imaginary mind and wishful dreaming.

Undeniably, you still think of him. Is it a crime to think of someone who's all you've ever known? If it were, you wouldn't be too sure how orange would look on you, but you'd risk it all in a heartbeat.

Bright side, spring rolls in pretty quick and the flowers are blooming just nicely with its vibrants and brights greeting you everywhere you look. Yana takes the time to spend a weekend getaway to Cabo with Tristian, wasting no time in throwing her projects on you with ease and Nadine to roll her eyes at the lovesick couple that's her aspirational couple— aside from you and Hoseok, you suppose.

"___, what can I do for you from Brandmont?" He asks, bemused.

There's a smile on your lips as you flippantly play with the corner of the crumpled letter that was odd for you to keep in the first place. "Can you send me Hoseok's new address, please?"

Renewal, they say. The blossoming brings renewal.

Hoseok,

Usually I am the one to send long text messages or leave annoying voicemails, but I thought I'd settle for a letter.

This isn't goodbye.

I think I've spent too much time figuring out how to say goodbye that I realized I should be focusing on what I would say to you when I see you again. Obviously, it's to make up for the time that I barely even said a "hello" and you were ready to kick me out in plain sight. Hopefully, the next time I see you, it's a much more pleasant time than that.

I thought I'd tell you in this letter that I'm grateful.

I'm grateful that I had a second chance with you, even if it was short-lived. Grateful that I was able to give you that closure that college me never gave. Grateful that I was able to believe in love again. And of course, that's thanks to you— don't let that build your ego, it's big enough already.

And though these events have a tendency to unfold like this, I'm grateful that it did and I do sincerely hope you're doing well as the boss man.

Do me a favor. Take care of yourself this spring.

I'll see you later,

___.

[anipologist]

Jailbreak+Fugitives+Leverage

I freely admit this is a totally random fic prompt that came to mind and wouldn’t leave. Someone on the team (not Mac since he’s already gotten the falsely accused of terrorism shirt) gets into deep trouble, like accused of treason or something trouble and they have literally no evidence otherwise so they ended up jailbreaking them and going on the lam. This is the resulting conversation as they flee in a “borrowed” mini-van from the early 2000s. Bonus points if it’s eggplant colored and they had to toss like three car seats in the back.

Also Jack never left and Russ and Desi are still around because I think it would be amusing to see them interact with each other....and codex still happened I guess, oh and they are all hopeless nerds...

(Also featuring a ridiculous amount of fourth wall breaking and pop culture references.) Anyways...

“We are not going to be the Leverage team” Mac says, half resigned, and half amused.

“Dude, we are so Leverage!” repeats Bozer with far too much enthusiasm for someone recently involved in a jailbreak and laundry list of felonies.      

“We are on the run,” points out Riley, “and you bet I can out Hardison anyone I want to.”

“True Riles,” Mac concedes, “But we’re not thieves, and this is not going to be a hi-tech rehash of Robin Hood.”

“You know who else was always insisting that Leverage weren’t thieves?” Bozer taunts.

Mac laughs for the first time in days, “Oh no, I am not going to be the Nate Ford in whatever this is, there is nobody like me in that show at all. Granted Riley is our Hardison, and somehow we ended up with twin Spencers.”

Desi and Jack shoot him identical startled looks.

“I am not Elliot Spencer.”

“Spencer, really?”

“What exactly are you lot discussing now?” Russ grumbles the backseat.

“Oh, Taylor is definitely Nate Ford” adds Desi, “He’s got the mind-tricks and everything.”

“Besides, he technically owns Phoenix” adds Mac, “So I guess Bozer and Mattie get to be Sophie and Parker…”

“Oh, it’s on Blondie,” Matty says laughing, “Who exactly are you then?”

“Nightwing to our Teen Titans,” laughs Riley, with a sideways wink at Bozer, “People do call you Boy Wonder an awful lot.”

“Murdoc calls me that…” mutters Mac unhappily, “and anyways I don’t look anything like Nightwing.”

“Whatever you say blue-eyes” and Desi smiles.

“If we’re going with superheroes, he’s Cap obviously,” argues Jack with a grin.

“Oh?” asks Matty.

“Well, itty bitty blond soldier boy? That’s not ringing any bells?”

“Mad scientist addition of Robin Hood” votes Bozer.

“Et tu Boze?” Mac quotes faux-mournfully, “It’s not like there are a lot of good mad scientist archetypes.”

“Well, there’s always Dr. Bishop from Fringe…” continues Bozer, “He’s not a bad mad scientist exactly.”

“He experimented on kids!” Mac says, scandalized into speaking rather louder than he had intended, “and he was insane and missing parts of his brain. Definitely not!”

“Oh, Mac is definitely more Peter Bishop…” says Russ thoughtlessly, “missing father, MIT dropout, reckless and doesn’t carry a gun, engineering skills…abandonment issues, crazy family that wants to destroy stuff…”

He trails off having finally noticed the glare that Matty is leveling at him.

“Well, I happen to know that I was not kidnapped from another universe,” Mac says with forced laughter after an awkward silence.

“Are you sure you’re not from another universe?” Jack asks, “cuz sometimes I wonder…”

“Imagine that,” laughs Riley, “Another Mac, another Jack…”

“What would alt-Mac be like I wonder?” asks Jack, “What do you’ll think?

“Longer hair, he can cook and he actually works at a think-tank…” volunteers Bozer.

“Ooo...kay, that was very specific and very quick?” Mac shoots him a suspicious glance.

“Don’t you guys spend time considering alternate realties?” asks Bozer with studied innocence, “I’ve also considered Sliders-style evil Mac, like Mac with Home Alone levels of evil traps in his lair and he’s really good at making bombs...”

“He’s already good at that Bozer...” says Russ dryly and another awkward silence ensues before Riley clears her throat.

“Well I think alt-Jack is probably a fly-by-night pilot who bums living space off of alt-Mac,” Riley says crisply with a smirk at Jack.

“Ouch” says a voice that sounds suspiciously like Bozer, except that he is rather obviously eating a chip by the time that Jack turns to glare at him.

Mac send her a greatful smile, he’d rather not think of evil versions of himself just yet, no matter what ancient tv show Bozer has been watching.

[kx-writes]

Oblivious - Ch. 1

Pairing: TodoDeku, MomoJirou, more to come

Rating: Teen+ [some language & suggestive comments]

Overall Summary: High School Senior Year AU || Todoroki is head over heels for Midoriya, who just too damn oblivious to notice his advances. 

Chapter Summary: Todoroki spends another lunchtime staring at his hopeless crush, Kaminari, Jirou, and Momo offer some helpful advice.

*crossposted on ao3*

________________________________________________________________

If Shouto could describe Midoriya in one word, it wouldn’t be beautiful or charming or intelligent (despite him being every one of those things), it would be reckless. Utterly and stupidly reckless. These were the thoughts going through his head while he watched said boy teetering on the edge of the ladder as he reached to string up a banner in the cafeteria.

“I wonder if I started to stack my chips on him, how many high I could get.” 

“Oh at least ten. He’s in ‘oogling Midoriya’ mode.”

“Will you two please be more sensitive, you know he has difficulty-”

“I can hear you,” Todoroki turned around and faced the rest of his lunch table again. Jirou was batting Kaminari’s hand away from her food, but Momo was the only one who had the decency to look ashamed. “And I am not oogling him.” He stared pointedly at the electric blond.

Kaminari only shrugged in response and stole another chip from Jirou, “Y’know Todoroki, you’re pretty much the prince of this school. Athletic, pretty, senior, and rich to boot? Just go up to him and ask him out. No way he’s saying no.” 

Shouto furrowed his brows, the only sign on his face of him being in thought. He supposed that while some of his qualities were attractive, Midoriya was not so shallow to date him for the money. And his looks were out of the question. A childhood accident had left an unsightly scar over his eye, plus his natural heterochromia, and his weird birthmark of half his hair being white. Nothing was attractive about that. 

“I mean if I were you,” Kaminari continued, snapping Shouto from his thoughts, “I would ask out everyone in school.” 

“You already do, dumbass.” Jirou chimed in. 

“Okay, okay. Enough you two,” Ah, there was the voice of reason he always appreciated, “Sho, why don’t you try just starting a conversation with him? It couldn’t hurt and you could get to know one another.” Momo suggested. 

Now Shouto’s lips pursed in a small frown. Talking to Midoriya also was not a great option. Every time he tried it was like his brain turned to mush and he stopped saying anything sensible. He almost outwardly cringed at the memory from the last time he interacted with Midoriya.

“Hey Todoroki! Ochako has me helping out the theatre department by handing out these audition flyers!”

Shouto read the paper he was holding, but he felt warm. Too warm. And his tongue was too heavy in his mouth to form full words. “Newsies?” He managed out, still not meeting those deep green eyes.

“It’s our musical this year, about the Newsie strike, young love, and some cool tap dance numbers! Or… at least that’s how Ochako described it, I’ve never actually seen it.” He chuckled lightly and Todoroki felt weak in the knees from the sound. 

“I used to tap.” Stupid. Why did those words leave his mouth? He hated dancing. And performing. And being in the spotlight of any kind and-

“Really!? That’s so cool Todoroki! You should totally audition, here,” Midoriya placed a flyer in his hands and that big grin of his stopped Todoroki from handing it back, “I gotta go now, but I hope to see you there!” 

The rate his heart was beating was not normal. This pace could only be set by Izuku Midoriya. It was dizzying, being in his presence. 

“Hold on-” Kaminari interrupted his retelling, “You used to tap dance? Why have I never heard of this before?” 

Todoroki only shrugged, so Momo answered for him, “That’s actually how he and I met, in dance class.” 

“Okay, he describes Deku like he’s some poet from ancient greece and you’re focused on his tap dancing ability?” Jirou asked before crunching down on a chip. 

“Fair, but we’ve already established Todoroki is so gay for this guy. If you’re just too shy I can talk to Bakugou if you want? He’s known Midoriya since they were kids.” 

But Shouto shook his head, “No. It’s fine. If I just ignore it long enough, the feelings will go away.”

“Yo dude… Last week you compared his freckles to the constellations of stars in the sky.” Jirou dead panned. 

“And yesterday you would’ve ran into that water fountain staring at him if Yaomomo didn’t pull you and snap you out of your stupor.” Kaminari added. 

Shouto looked to Momo, pleading for some kind of reprieve from her. 

But Momo politely looked away and said, “I don’t think these feelings will go away as easily as you think.”

Todoroki sighed. “You guys are no help…” 

“Hey, I have an idea!” The loud blond exclaimed, “Why don’t you actually audition for the musical? Two birds, one stone. You want to get to know Midoriya better and the theatre department could use an experienced tapper!” 

“Momo taps too.” He mumbled back. 

“I would audition, but I have too many responsibilities with the Student Council. This might actually be good for you, Shouto.” Momo smiled softly. 

“I hate to say Denki has a good idea, but it is a good idea.” Jirou shrugged. 

Shouto looked back at the banner Midoriya and Uraraka hung up. The two were gone by now, probably taking the ladder back. But the sign read ‘NEWSIES AUDITIONS: AFTERSCHOOL WEDNESDAY’. 

“...I’ll think about it.” Except, he already had his mind made up. And the three he was currently sharing a table with, knew that too. 

Shouto Todoroki would be auditioning for Newsies and it was set in stone the moment the suggestion left Izuku Midoriya’s lips. 

[paigerambles]

A happy belated birthday to my darling Gemma <3

(( four little drabbles based on some of our pairings )) @gemmamakeslists

A Dangerous Affair with Faith and Antonin

The door had closed much too loudly behind him. It mirrored the finality of this moment. Antonin had never pretended and that perhaps was what had made him so uniquely cruel. When he’d chosen her, when he’d decided to ‘see what happened’, he’d been open to feel whatever he might have. After all, the more open you were, the easier you were trusted. The more receptive you were to the little things she did, the more you noticed and became intrigued by. It was a dangerous tightrope he walked but Antonin hadn’t lost sleep about it. After all, he would always finish the job.

He was supposed to finish the job.

His hands never shook, not ever but tonight they betrayed him. If she had suspected, if she had been worried, it didn’t show. Instead, concern flashed across that almost unreadable face. That alone was a punch to the gut. Of course he didn’t exactly look his best. He was about to make the single most impactful decision of his life - his hair had not taken it well. Neither had the dark circles under his eyes, the palpable anxiety he felt causing a trickle of sweat to make its way down his neck.

If he made it quick, it could be a mercy. She was a target now and even if he let her go... It would be a life of looking over her shoulder. Faith may have been tougher than most but she wouldn’t survive, not now. Loneliness was easier to accept, to live with, when you hadn’t tasted the alternative. He knew that all too well now. This was just supposed to be another job. Another name scratched off a list. Another day.

What did it matter if he loved her? What did it matter that his father would kill him himself if he didn’t see this through? What did anything matter when she was looking at him like that, eyes hopeful and trusting and all too familiar with disappointment and pain?

The loaded gun felt impossibly heavy in his hands as he watched the colour slowly drain from her face as that trust started to falter. Surely not...? He couldn’t, he wouldn’t-

“Antonin-,” but he’d made his decision long before she breathed his name. In truth, he had made his decision long before even now. He had been interested every time she spoke, dizzied by her rare laugh and moved by the way she saw the world and all its dark, terrible corners. She’d danced with the devil and never known, until now. He took a step towards her and to her credit, to her grit, she barely flinched and did not move.

The cold touch of the metal ran up his spine as he put the gun away. Of course he put the gun away.

“We have to leave. Tonight. There’s no time to explain-,” his mind was moving faster now, catching up, calming down. This he could do. This he could manage without shaking. “They want you dead. My father, his organization. I won’t let that happen to you, do you understand?” Usually she would argue, questions, rage until she was blue or purple or red in the face. There was an ache in his chest as he saw the tears in her eyes, too stubborn to fall. Convincing her that his feelings were real would take time and maybe she’d never believe him which she was well within her right not to but that didn’t matter now. Now his only thought, his only goal, was to keep her safe.

Antonin stopped moving for long enough to look her in those burning blue eyes. It had to boil down to one thing now and it wasn’t love, it wasn’t longing or truth. It was this: “Do you trust me?”

And perhaps against her every better judgement, in that moment she nodded, gripping tightly onto his outstretched hand.

“Yes.”

A Reckless Serenade with Krystal and Luke

The pub was probably the dullest, stickiest, faintly rancid place in town but it let his band play and paid them in free drinks. So, really, who’s to complain? Luke was usually nervous before a show, anxious right up until he was bouncing around the stage and even then. Tonight he was especially nervous. Tonight, he’d asked the prettiest, coolest, sassiest girl from the record store to come to his show. He’d made some big song and dance about putting his homemade poster up in the store to which she’d said ‘nah, pal’. Luke had just been pleased as punch to chat with her anyway.

The likelihood of her actually showing up tonight... He wasn’t sure what made him more nervous. Would she? Wouldn’t she? He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was about Krystal Mercury but he thought an awful lot about holding her hand. That was enough to inspire screeds and screeds of poppy poetry, some of it beautiful even. When it came to writing a song, he could say it all. When it came to talking to her? Forget about it.

Now, all he had to do was convince himself that he wouldn’t be perfectly miserable if he didn’t see her tonight. It was a decent crowd, anyway. At least fifteen people. If you counted the bartender (which he always did). It was all peachy.

Except, he really wanted her to be in the crowd.

“Come on, mate.” Luke blinked at his band-mate, as if suddenly remembering the fact that the whole point of tonight was to play a show. Right, here we go. No matter what happ---

For half a beat, he held his breath entirely. After all, it wasn’t terribly well lit in here and he might have been mistaken. Although, wasn’t she quite unmistakable?

Krystal’s hair was down, hanging by the shoulders of her denim jacket with what he thought might have been sewn on patches for a splash of colour. She was here. When he met her eye, he reckoned he caught a smile and time might have slowed down. He’d always been hopeless and maybe even romantic but he never thought he’d get himself quite this tongue tied over someone. Not a very handy thing when you were the lead singer, mind.

Then just like that reality return and he opened his mouth at last, the sound of rip roaring guitar and faster-than-your-racing-heart drum beats filled the air, and his head. Luke felt giddy, elated and it wasn’t just from the adrenaline of playing a show. It wasn’t that at all.

“And truth be told, I’d be terribly content to hold your hand.”

Funny how much effort it took to make it seem like you were very cool and casual around someone you definitely didn’t feel cool or casual around. Luke gave it his best once he’d exited the stage.

“Alright, Songbird.”

“Well, you weren’t shite, then.”

Luke let out a laugh, still clad in his leather jacket despite the stage lights.

“Do you want to see backstage?” Luke took the world’s longest breath, holding out his hand.

“Backstage,” he shot her a grin at that comment. Fair enough, this was hardly the Grammy’s. Still, she took his hand.

A Brighter Day with Olivia and Ian

Ian Morrison had just been some guy on vacation when he noticed her. A totally normal, very stylish and slightly drunk guy on vacation. Olivia Winters had just been some girl working her part-time job and going to classes. Sometimes she remembered to text back her annoying BFF Samson too. She was perfectly normal, happy and a little bit no-nonsense especially when it come to guys on vacation who thought they were stylish.

It was perfect.

The first time Ian noticed her, she was sitting outside of a café with a stack of books and a black coffee. Her bangs threatened to cover her eyes, her brow was furrowed in concentration and she was about to lose one of her papers to a summer’s breeze. Now, being a perfectly normal, perfectly human guy, Ian had to run like a fool to catch it for her. Did he expect to be showered in thanks? No but a compliment on his Hawaiian shirt would have been nice.

Olivia didn’t even give him that.

The next time Ian sees her, she’s wearing dungarees and eating an overly shiny apple. He smells strongly of daytime tequila (it was vacation, after all) and was just on the way to meet his brother for a late lunch. Ian doesn’t have a good excuse this time but damn it all, he goes for it anyway.

“You know, an apple a day keeps the doctor away.”

“And what exactly would keep you away?”

“Pineapples. They freak me out.”

“There are at least seven pineapples on your shirt right now.”

“It’s a power play, I’m letting them know who’s boss so they don’t smell my fear. I’m playing the long game here. I’m Ian, BTW.”

“Right... Olivia, BTW.” She wasn’t nearly as accustomed to using the acronym out loud, hence the sarcasm.

“Well, I’ll see you around O-L-I-V-I-A,” he grinned, shooting her a wink. She rolled her eyes. She smiled. What a weirdo.

The next time again that Ian sees Olivia, the sun is setting over waves and he’s wearing shorter shorts than you might think appropriate for a Sunday evening. He was just giving the people something to smile about. He has his sunglasses on, sitting under one of those absurdly large beach umbrellas, half-asleep, when she sits herself down without even a ‘hello’. How rude. He didn’t mind.

“Here.” Ian opened his eyes lazily, glancing down at the apple in his palm. A smile tugged at his lips. What a weirdo. “For the doctor,” she added, as if that made sense. Ian let out a laugh. She felt funny but not in a bad way.

“Thank you, O,” he said around a crunch, peaking over at her before nudging his sunglasses down his nose. “So, you planning on sticking around or are you actually a mermaid en route to the sea? Either one is cool with me.”

“Not a mermaid. A sea-witch and if you’re not careful, you won’t leave here with all your fingers and toes still attached.” He was only almost certain it was a joke which only made Ian Morrison grin wider.

“Only one way to find out then.” Olivia stayed beside him long after the sun had set, telling herself it was fine because he was just some boy on vacation with a nice smile and a ridiculously warming laugh.

The last time Ian sees Olivia is when he’s on the bus, feeling a keen hangover as he presses his face against the cool glass. Mark Morrison is putting their luggage under the bus, making sure Ian has plenty of water and crackers for the uneasy ride back home.

Ian doesn’t know why or how he opened his eyes at exact, perfect moment to see her but he did. He was so glad he did. An easy smile came to his face and the same happened for her.

Olivia lifted her hand up in a wave, minimum effort and very meaningful all the same.

Ian pressed his palm to the window, dramatic and very meaningful all the same.

Mark made his way onto the bus, backpack in tow and Ian turned to shoot his best bro a grin and by the time he looked back around, Olivia was gone.

A Little Hope with Autumn and Oliver

There was only one bed in the motel and the bath tub was abysmal. Oliver would have taken the chair- it’s not as if he slept much these days anyway but Autumn had insisted. Well, perhaps that was the wrong word. She said he would be no good to her if he was exhausted and hadn’t he been the one who had dragged her into this mess? That he could not argue with.

Still, he couldn’t sleep.

Oliver wasn’t proud of the weakness, of the cruelty he had inflicted by having Autumn conjure up the soul of his beloved. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t know just how Angel had died, the fire, the explosion... The way that Autumn had to feel that just so he could have a scrap, a false echo of the woman he had loved more than anything in this wretched world. What’s worse is that he needed her to do it again.

Autumn needed the money. She needed to start over so if that meant sticking with Oliver DiLaurentis a little longer then fine. He shouldn’t have lied to her, shouldn’t have left out the part where there was a price on his head. They’d been on the run for weeks now and he had begged her to leave him to perish more than once. Autumn refused, for whatever reason.

Well, it was the money, wasn’t it? Of course it was. They had a deal. Had his father not taught him how to be a good businessman? He couldn’t back out of a deal. That would be dishonorable. How goddamn backwards his family had been. Were. Oliver turned on his side.

He owed Autumn his life, whatever was left of it. He would see this through. He’d protect her the way that he hadn’t been able to protect... To protect Angel. A haggard breath left his lungs as he looked over to her lying beside him. He felt his chest ache. Then-

Autumn turned, turned too far in fact and now she was leaning against his chest. Oliver stopped breathing. He hadn’t felt a moment of peace since the fire. Since he’d... Just, since. He doubted he’d ever feel a moment of peace again but for the briefest of moments, as he let out his breath, he felt the first real glimmer of hope that he might. It was a foolish, frivolous thought but he had it nonetheless.

Her breathing was even, her sleep yet to be interrupted. For reasons entirely beyond him, he gently touched her shoulder and felt the real weight of exhaustion he had been fighting off until now. He was bone tired, desperate for sleep but too scared to close his eyes. Autumn wasn’t though. From what he had seen of her, from what he had seen her do, he thought she was fearless. A survivor. Beautiful, in her own special way. He fought the thought off but still it whispered in the back of his mind- not like her though, not like Angel.

Oliver closed his eyes, a tear falling down his cheek. He didn’t move his hand from her shoulder and she didn’t move her head from his chest.

For the first time, he slept.

[ragequitthatshit]

down in flames : sweet pea x reader (chapter 1)

(gif not mine)

Fandom: Riverdale (season 3)

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Andrews!Reader

Warnings: violence, swearing, underage drinking, mention of attempted rape (in a later chapter which can be skipped), angst, gross fluff 

Summary: On his first day of elementary school, one of the bigger kids had pushed Archie to the floor and skinned his knee. You had promised then and there you would protect your brother from everyone and everything in this world.

Now in high school, your main concern should have been that the boy you liked was sleeping with someone else. Instead, you were researching how to cover up a murder and discovering the use of alcohol as a coping method.

Riverdale wasn't safe for anyone these days.

You knew Archie was scared. You knew he felt guilty. You knew he just wanted this all to be over. You didn’t know he’d plead guilty and take the deal of two years in juvenile detention.

The shock you felt jolt through your body left you reeling, bolting from your chair in a reflex to protect, but there was nothing you could do. Next to you, Sweet Pea clasped your wrist and gently tugged you back into your seat. Clinging to him, you absentmindedly noted that you were digging your nails into his exposed forearm, but you were too busy trying to breathe to stop yourself. 

Archie looked accepting, resigned to his fate, but it was the look on your dad’s face that broke your heart. As Archie was led away in handcuffs, he spared you a tight smile that you couldn’t return, tears dripping from your eyes instead. Leaving Betty to console a distraught Veronica, you rushed to your dad, throwing your arms around his waist and burying your face into his shoulder as he clung on to you just as tightly. 

Much later that night, you found yourself sat in a booth right at the back of Pop’s with Betty, Jughead and Veronica. None of you spoke, merely picking at your food and milkshakes, lost in your own thoughts.

It was a strange feeling, like it wasn’t really happening. This was Archie, who got in trouble in elementary school for fighting bullies on behalf of the smaller kids. Archie who protected his family and his friends with everything in him. Archie who loved pancakes and hated mushrooms and wore odd socks - your little brother. It didn’t matter that there was barely 10 minutes difference in age, you still insisted you were elder. 

You were polar opposites in some ways - Archie was reckless where you were methodical, easily manipulated where you had trouble trusting anyone. He could be stupid sometimes, making rash decisions like starting the red circle or chasing after gunmen, but he was good at heart, and there was no way in hell he could ever kill someone. 

And now he was locked up in a place with a bad reputation and you hoped to god that if nothing else, the serpent tattoo would grant him some reprise - he’d need comrades in there even if he wouldn’t have friends. 

You kept opening your mouth to speak, uncomfortable with the silence, but what were you supposed to say? 

Luckily, you were saved by the ring of the bell as the front door was pushed open. In walked a crowd of leather, and you jumped up to greet them. 

Toni was the first to rush forward and hug you, followed by Cheryl and Fangs. They joined the group in the booth as Sweet Pea analysed you with his dark eyes before pulling you into his chest. The familiar smell of leather and smoke was comforting, and you clutched to his jacket for a moment to ground yourself. 

When you stepped back, you quickly wiped at your eyes to rid yourself of any tears and tried to smile up at the boy. He looked concerned, and you knew that your pathetic attempt at fooling him into thinking you were ok wouldn’t work. Still, when he asked if you were alright, you nodded and turned quickly to squash back into the now-crowded booth. Sweet Pea took a seat by your side, leg pressed against yours, and arm draped over the booth behind you. Over the course of the next hour, as the group swapped back and forth between discussing pointless subjects and possible plans to clear Archie’s name or break him out, the warmth of Sweet Pea kept you grounded, and you both pretended not to notice when his phone lit up with Josie’s name several times, instead he turned the device face-down and moved somehow even closer. 

You couldn’t even find it in you to feel guilty.

Despite your dad’s hesitation, you decided to go back to school with the others. It was funny in a sad sort of way that you usually looked for any excuse not to have to go, and then when you had one, you didn’t want it. You just couldn’t stand another day at home. It was so empty and quiet, just you and Vegas, who’d taken to lying on the floor of Archie’s room and whining. 

School wasn’t much better though with all the looks, the whispers. At first it upset you, but a couple of hours in and it was rapidly pissing you the hell off. The second the bell rang for free period, you stormed through the hallways, earphones in and scowling as you threw yourself down into a chair in the corner of the student lounge. Everyone kept their distance, casting glances at your furious scribbling before quickly retreating. Eventually, the bell rang again for lunch and you knew your peace was going to soon be disrupted as people streamed into the room. Mere minutes later, you felt someone looming over you, and quickly grabbed the hand that crept into your peripheral. 

“If you pull out my earphones, I will pull out your lungs.”

Sweet Pea merely laughed and leant against the desk you were hunched over, Fangs by his side flipping through the text book you’d been taking notes from. Knowing it was hopeless, you rolled your eyes to the ceiling before fixing them both with a glare.

“I’m trying to work, what do you two idiots want?”

“For you to pull the stick out of your ass and come sit with us,” Sweet Pea replied with an easy smirk, Fangs snorting in amusement as he passed you your book back. Your glare quickly shot to the shorter boy, who adopted an innocent look and held his hands in the air.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t say it!”

Huffing, you stood and shoved your belongings back into your bag.

“Drop dead, Fogarty.”

You spun on your heel and headed for the couches to squish into an armchair with Kevin, ignoring the indignant splutter and deep laughter of the boys behind you. Immediately after you sat down, Veronica leant towards you with her usual determined look. 

“So, this football game that Archie’s planning for the juvie boys, what do you think? Want to come and cheer him on with us?” Noting your arched brow of confusion, she elaborated. “Archiekins was saying that the guys in there needed a pep rally more than most, so what better way to raise their spirits than with a good show? The Vixens are practicing the routine tonight ready for Thursday. Join us?”

You wrinkled your nose and gave Veronica a weird look as she waited for your answer.

“Are you asking me to dance like a slut in front of my twin?”

As everyone else laughed, Veronica gave you an unimpressed look at the teasing smile on your face.

“Ok, ok, I’ll take that as a no.”

Grinning, you turned your eyes to Fangs.

“I know someone else who would look great in a mini skirt though.”

Never one to turn down a bet, it wasn’t long before things had escalated and Fangs decided to don one of the cheer uniforms and run around the school in it. His conclusion that he enjoyed the freedom and the breeze that came from a skirt kept you giggling the rest of the day.

Archie was a week into juvie, and already he looked like shit. He was pale and tired, and as a Serpent you had enough experience with fighting to know that he couldn’t sit normally because he was bruised as hell. Concern flooded your face, and you spared the guard a quick look before leaning closer to your brother.

“Arch, who did this?”

Archie looked around them, noting the other prisoners who sat close enough to hear all seemed to be too busy to listen. He turned back around, staring down at his hands instead of you.

“It-” he started, only to quickly close his mouth and shake his head, “it doesn’t matter.”

Glaring at him, you ground out his name in a warning tone. Knowing you weren’t going to drop it, he sighed heavily and leaned in close. 

“Ghoulies,” he mumbled, only meeting your eyes for a second as thunder thrummed in your bones.

“Those fucking sons of bitches!” you spat, hands balling into fists. “What about the Serpents, are they protecting you?”

Archie opened his mouth to reply, but didn’t get a chance as yells rang out, an inmate and their guest throwing punches at one another across the room. The inmates were herded to the far wall as the guards called for the end of visits, ushering you and the other visitors towards the exit. A quick hug and a demand that he stay safe, and you were all but shoved out of the room. You were furious as you began the drive home, hands clenching the steering wheel so tight you stopped being able to fully feel your fingers. 

The Ghoulies had been a problem ever since you’d joined the Serpents, and you had always hated them. Now that they were after your brother? No way were you about to let that slide.

Instead of going home, you’d gone straight to Jughead with an intense need to rant before you exploded. With an agreement that something had to be done, you decided to brainstorm possible ideas the next day after school, and you left the trailer slightly calmer than you had arrived. 

Nothing ever got to be done regarding the juvie situation, as three weeks then went by without anyone being able to see Archie. You and your dad were angry and fearful, unaware of what was happening to him. The Warden’s claims of Archie starting a riot were bullshit, and you all knew it. You were curled up on the sofa watching Game of Thrones reruns as your dad met with his lawyer when your phone buzzed with a call from Veronica.

Intrigued, you quickly answered, and as soon as you heard the name Penny, you were stuffing on your jacket and trainers with the promise you’d be at the speakeasy in 10. Once there, Veronica quickly explained Penny’s offer of protection and the following shipment of Jingle Jangle, as well as her belief that her father was behind it, and her, Cheryl and Toni’s  storming of the drug lab at the Whyte Worm. 

“So you blackmailed your father into backing off, what do you need from me?”

Veronica fixed you with a smile, rounding the bar to hand you a glossy card invitation.

“To come to opening night. Not only do you have to be there as a friend, but also I have a feeling Penny might come sniffing around with threats - we both know she isn’t what you’d call loyal and I wouldn’t put it past her to try and pull something.”

You nodded thoughtfully as you stared at the card in your hand, raising your gaze to meet Veronica with a sly smile.

“I need to speak to her about a Ghoulie infestation anyway. I’ll be there.”

“Excellent! Then there’s just one more thing,” Veronica smiled widely, casting a raised eyebrow at your scuffed trainers and ripped jeans. “Wear a dress.”

That night, La Bonne Nuit was packed out with the younger residents of Riverdale. Josie was singing, drinks were flowing, and everyone was dressed to suit the 20s decor. A black cocktail dress and heels had you fitting in nicely, and you were feeling pretty good as you spent the evening laughing with friends. 

You stayed on alert though, keeping an eye out for Penny or Ghoulies sent to cause trouble. Sweet Pea, Fangs and Jughead were doing the same, keeping a watch on the entryway as they mingled. You were sat in a booth chatting to Betty when you felt eyes on you. A quick glance over the blondes shoulder and you caught Sweet Pea turning back to Fangs to whisper something. They seemed to be having a heated discussion, some stupid disagreement knowing them, but as you carried on talking to Betty you realised that as they talked, the boys swapped between looking at you and looking at Josie. 

You shook off the weirdness, getting lost in anecdotes as more people came to join you, until a hand on your shoulder had you looking up to meet Veronica’s steely gaze. Excusing yourself, with a quick reassurance to Betty that everything was fine, you let Veronica pull you by the hand through the crowd to the bar. There, Reggie looked pissed as he hung up the phone, and you looked at him expectantly.

“Penny’s just pulled up outside and I’m gonna guess she ain’t here for a burger.”

Sighing, you gave Reggie a nod, and beckoned for Veronica to follow you upstairs. On your way, you caught the questioning stare of Sweet Pea, and you cocked your thumb at Reggie in answer. He could explain, you needed to move. Steeling your expression into your ‘I know i’m short but im actually a tough gang member’ face, you pushed past the queue of people still waiting to get into the speakeasy and stalked outside to the car park. 

Illuminated by the light of the diner, Penny leant against her car, her cocky smirk instantly irritating you. Veronica stuck close by your side and, as you’d done several times before, you admired her tenacity. Still, she was out of her element, more used to the organised turn-taking style of mob business rather than the rough and tumble gang fights, so your priority was ensuring she got out of this unscathed. 

“What are you doing here, Penny? I thought I told you that your services were not required, as much as I appreciate the offer.”

Penny snorted at Veronica’s steady words, choosing not to heed the warning and instead pushed off the car and began to stroll towards the two of you. Despite her casual pace and crossed arms, you took a step forward to keep some distance between her and the girl behind you, wary of her intentions. 

Noticing your movement, Penny smiled sickly and stopped in her tracks, narrowed eyes watching you with a dangerous glint.

“My, my, Lodge, you sure are a lucky girl,” the blonde began in a mocking tone, “you always seem to have a little Andrews guard dog yapping around your heels.”

Not in the mood for Penny and her games, your fingers reached for the pocket that wasn’t there, then clenched into fists, teeth gritted as you realised your knife was in your jacket pocket, which was still in the cloakroom.

“Listen, bitch, you’re not welcome here, so get the hell out. Veronica and her speakeasy are protected by the Serpents, so go do your dirty business elsewhere.” 

Your sharp tone and pissed off expression seemed to rile up the older woman, and she took a step closer to square up to you.

“Excuse me? You don’t get to tell me what to do, ok little girl? I could 

you with my pinkie. So how about you and the princess here show me some respect before I have one of my guys on the inside slit your brothers throat.”

You barely heard Veronica’s gasp or the bell above the door signalling someone exiting Pop’s over the rushing of blood in your ears. You didn’t feel yourself move, just felt a wave of total fury before your fist collided with Penny’s cheek. The blonde went sprawling onto the tarmac as you glared down at her, pain shooting up your arm and you learn down to grab the lapels of her jacket and tug her up to a half sitting position so you were face to face. 

“Go anywhere near my brother,” you whispered menacingly, “and you’re fucking dead.” 

Roughly releasing your grip, you stood and backed away as Penny pulled herself up from the ground, laughing as she wiped the trickle of blood from her mouth. 

“Oh, you have no 

what you’re messing with, but I promise you now, I’m gonna kill your bro with my bare hands.” 

You lunged forward, barely making it a step before strong arms pulled you back. Despite the vice grip of leather sleeves and tattooed hands, you still tried to fight free and get to Penny, all the emotions that had been building up for weeks begging to be set free. Either side of you, the Serpents appeared, Fangs half in front of you in a protective stance, and Jughead slouching cockily on your right. 

“You’re outnumbered, Penny, take the advice and get the hell out of here,” ordered the Serpent King, staring her down.

Penny didn’t respond at first, letting her eyes drift over the small group. Finally, with a cheery goodbye, and a smirk that spelled trouble directed at you, she stalked back to her car and made a speedy exit. You watched the lights disappear around the corner in silence, muscles going slack as Sweet Pea relaxed his grip on you. 

Everyone stayed quiet, and you took a few staggered breaths to try and release the adrenaline coursing through you. When you felt sufficiently calmer, you eased Sweet Pea’s hand off of your waist, squeezing his fingers quickly to quell the hard frown he was currently staring you down with. You turned to the others with a quick thank you, flexing your fingers experimentally to make sure you hadn’t damaged anything on Penny’s stupid smug face. You knew they were all staring at you, waiting for you to explode in anger from Penny’s words, and you couldn’t blame them. You had a notoriously short temper, and the strange calm you felt surprised even you. With one last look at the dots of blood on the ground, you avoided the gazes of your friends, striding straight past to head back inside and get a seriously strong drink. 

Exchanging concerned glances, the rest shortly followed, and spent the night on edge as they waited for you to snap.

Instead of snapping, you got wasted. 

It seemed to work, as you were no longer angry - you were stumbling around laughing your ass off instead. Despite the initial worry over your choice of distraction, everyone else had shortly started to drink with you in solidarity, which led to the Serpents and their Northside buddies crashing out of the front door of Pop’s and spilling into the car park way past closing time.

Cheryl and Toni were flirting, Sweet Pea, Jughead and Fangs were play fighting, and you had your arms linked with Kevin and Betty as you slurred through Mean Girls quotes in a competition of who knew the film best. At the corner you split ways to head home, leaving you with Jug, Betty and Sweet Pea. The couple quickly cosied up together, whispering, while you dropped back a few paces to link arms with Sweet Pea. Heaving a contented sigh, you lent your head right back to look up at the stars, and if you weren’t hanging on to the boy next to you for support, you’d be on your ass. 

“You know you live in the opposite direction, right?”

Sweet Pea’s eyes quickly darted to you when you spoke, as if he had been deep in thought. Smiling, he steered you around a lamppost.

“You think I’m gonna trust you walking home alone right now?” You turned to him, opening your mouth but he shot a pointed look at the couple in front of you and beat you to it. “And no, they don’t count, they wouldn’t notice if I got naked and started doing the Single Ladies dance.” 

You laughed unabashedly, prompting another grin from the usually sullen Serpent. 

You walked most of the way in silence, bid goodbye to the loved-up couple outside of your house, and now stood on your porch. The night was quiet, the house dark, and luckily you had sobered up enough in the cool night air to keep your voice low. 

“Thanks for walking me home, Sweets. And thanks for having my back earlier. You’re always there when I need you.” 

His face was gentle, lit softly by the porch light as his eyes searched your face.

“And you’re always there for me. We look out for each other - that’s what friends do, right?”

You felt a stab in your gut at the word ‘friends’, and you took a half-step back as you realized how close the two of you were. 

“Well, still, Penny’s gonna be out of my blood now and you didn’t have to risk being pulled into it, so thank you.” 

You gave him a hug, throat going tight at the feeling of his arms around you. Pulling back with a cough, you gave him a smile and murmured goodnight before twisting around to unlock your door. Before you could disappear inside, Sweet Pea grasped your wrist, tugging you gently to look back at him.

“Don’t do that. Don’t brush off my help and think I give a shit that sticking up for you could get me in trouble. I’ll protect you no matter what, even if it kills me, ok?”

You were stunned and speechless, stood gawping at him until it was his turn to mumble a farewell and stride down the pathway. Collecting yourself, you headed inside, and as you shut the door behind you, your eyes met Sweet Pea’s as he stood on the pavement in front of your house, waiting till you were safely inside before he left.

Leaning back against the cool wood of the front door, you slumped down onto the floor of your dark hallway, head in your hands.

“God, I’m so fucking screwed.”

[poguesofthebau]

hi! if youre still doing them can i get a ship? my name is sam, im a straight female and i have brown eyes with kinda long brown hair. im about 5'7. im pretty quiet unless im with friends although i can be very talkitive, im very sarcastic. at times i can be stubborn. i care a lot about other peoples feelings and opinions more than i probably should. lowkey a hopeless romantic. i mostly listen to pop and sometimes rock music. i like to draw, watch movies, and hang with friends.

first and foremost... i love your blog. okay now let the ship begin :)

i ship you with jj!! (honorary mention: a lot of the time, you’d seek refuge in pope. aside from jj, pope matched your energy the best of all the pogues, and you often found yourself plopping down next to him on a log at the Boneyard when jj was being annoying, or on the couch in The Chateau when jj wouldn’t get out of the hammock after the nap you’d taken together, or in the back of the van when jj insisted on riding shotgun instead of kie for once. you and pope would just be like... bros. half the time you had super quiet conversations that no one else could hear until one of you burst out laughing. then jj would make a sarcastic comment about pope stealing his girl, and john b would make one about the two of you secretly plotting to dismantle the government or something)

you would be the pogue who insisted on a weekly movie night every thursday during the summer. in your mind, there was no excuse for any of the pogues to miss it, and because they knew how much it meant to you, none of them ever did miss it. eventually, these movie nights led to you and jj’s relationship, so he liked to tell everyone who asked that you made the first move. (not directly true, but we all know how convincing of an argument jj could make, no matter how absurd the lie.) the first few times you guys met up at The Chateau for movie night, summer had barely even started. school had ended on a thursday night, and all five of you had gone straight to john b’s after last period, immediately breaking out the celebratory beers and joints before settling in a few hours later for a movie. the entire time, jj would be snuggled up right beside you, arm tossed around your shoulders, whispering little comments about the film in your ear every few minutes. you’d laugh quietly when he started ranting to you about how much of a rip off the movie re-make you were watching was, and the tiny giggle you let out was apparently enough to light a fire among the pogues. john b and pope were convinced that the two of you secretly had something going on, and, no matter how much you both brushed it off, you knew the taunting and teasing was there to stay for the summer.

unsurprisingly, you were right. john b and pope wouldn’t let it go. the following day, the first official day of summer, the five of you would spend the day on the hms pogue, swimming and fishing and drinking and laughing. when jj grabbed you by the waist, both of you laughing loudly and uncontrollably, and dragged you off the boat and into the water with him, the other boys started up again. “jesus christ, jj, at least act like you’re not desperate!” john b would call as you and jj paddled around to the other side of the boat. “i know, dude,” pope would jump in. “just because you’re in the water now, doesn’t mean you washed the love off your face.” you’d snort at that, jj throwing his friends the finger. kie simply sat there, observing the interaction between her friends with a smirk. she, too, had her own little theory that jj felt some special kind of way about you, but she was holding on to it until she could get one of you alone to discuss it. little did you know, she actually would get jj alone the next day. after your day on the water, everyone would return to their respective homes to clean up and get a good night’s sleep before the first saturday night Boneyard party of the summer. the next afternoon, when kie and jj both coincidentally arrived at jb’s at the same time, she saw her opportunity. “hey, by the way,” kie would say after greeting the blonde, pulling him back by the shoulder with a sweet, sarcastic smile. “how long have you been in love with sam?” his face would pale for a second, but just as he regained his composure to jab back at her, you were stepping out of the Chateau with a grin on your face. “who’s ready to fuck the Boneyard up this summer? come on, losers, me and john b already started pregaming!” with one last knowing grin thrown at jj, kie was scurrying up the stairs and grabbing a beer and getting the party started. that night, jj got totally sloshed and fully confessed his feelings to kiara. he also made her swear on the pogues not to leak his secret before he could confess it to you.

so a few more weeks would go by, jj and kie both keeping his secret perfectly. they’d have short interactions of just the two of them, where the two would gush like teenage girls over the cute thing you’d said to jj one afternoon, or how beautiful you looked in that one sundress you’d worn for a day of hanging around at john b’s. during all the following movie nights, jj would be sure to save you a seat next to him on the couch, always slyly putting that arm around you and telling you little fun facts about the films you’d watch. eventually you caught on to jj and kie’s behavior, and how sneaky they were being. on top of that, you finally admitted to yourself how special jj made you feel. funny enough, you’d wind up confiding in pope and john b about your newfound feelings for the reckless blonde. there’d be one day a few weeks into the summer when kie had to work at The Wreck and jj had to work at the kook hotel, but the rest of you had the day off, so you, pope, and jb would take the boat out for a chill day of fishing and tanning. you’d be laying out on the front of the boat, pope in the driver’s seat and john b throwing a net out to try to catch something for dinner. (the vibes that i am imagining on this boat... immaculate. something about pope x john b seems so comfortable and just literally vibey to me idk but i love it.) you’d have your eyes closed and a hand thrown over your face to block out the sun as you chatted with the boys, and eventually the topic would flow over to jj. “i dunno, i think him and kie might kind of have a thing or something,” you’d admit, disappointment prominent and obvious in your voice. “which, like, i don’t really care, but it’s just kind of... i don’t know.” pope would be looking at you from his spot on the boat, a slightly concerned look on his face. john b would just shrug, shaking his head a little as he spoke despite your eyes being closed. “i don’t really think it’s serious. i’ve noticed them like, whispering a little, too, i guess, but i don’t think it’s a big deal.” you’d sigh at john b’s words, your hand falling from your face as you flipped onto your side to look at your boys. “can i just admit something to you guys? but it has to stay on this boat. no kie, and no jj. this is between the three of us only. promise?” john b would draw an invisible cross over his heart as pope raised his right hand and gave you a quick scout’s honor. “it’s stupid, but i just thought maybe jj had a little thing for me. so with all this kie shit, i’m just kind of confused.” pope’s eyes would widen and john b’s eyebrows would raise. “seriously, do not repeat what i just said. i will kill you both.” “maybe you should just tell jj before either of us get the chance, then,” john b would offer. you’d roll your eyes, laying flat on your back again. “no, seriously,” pope would agree. “just because he’s been spending some extra time with kie doesn’t mean he feels that way about her. maybe they’re talking about you all the time. you never know.” although you didn’t know that pope’s idea was actually the truth, it really got you thinking.

the next thursday on movie night, you decided to sit between pope and john b instead of snuggling into jj’s side. it seemed like a harmless change to the other three pogues, but you could see jj burning up inside. he sat through the entire movie with his jaw locked, grinding his teeth when he heard you mumble something to john b about the movie. by the time the film was over, jj was about to explode, and everyone noticed. “you good, buddy?” john b would ask twenty minutes later when he saw jj’s knuckles going white from how tight his grip on his beer was. he’d glare at his friend before turning to you. “can you come outside with me for a second?” you’d glance at pope in a panic before quickly nodding and standing. jj stormed out of the house in front of you, dropping into a hammock and running a hand through his hair as you nervously followed. “what’s up?” you’d timidly ask. while your voice was steady, your mind was running a mile a minute. he knows. he hates me. i should’ve known not to tell the boys. with their big fucking mouths, they probably-- “do you have a thing for john b, or something?” you were stunned out of your thoughts, freezing where you stood at the (seemingly impossible) question. “why would you think that?” you’d finally ask, jj letting out a puff of air. “i-- can you just answer the question?” you’d shake your head, causing him to sigh. “then why’d you sit next to him? you always sit with me on movie night.” you’d shrug, shuffling your feet and avoiding eye contact. “i dunno. i thought you’d wanna sit with kie.” there was a moment of silence then, and you could’ve sworn you felt your friendship dying. you were gonna lose jj, because of some stupid crush, and you were going to absolutely break over it. “you’re an idiot,” jj would mumble under his breath after thinking for a few moments. as you looked at him, completely puzzled by his words, he was standing swiftly from the hammock and approaching you quickly. “such a fucking idiot, sam.” those would be his last words before his hands were suddenly on the sides of your face, tucking your hair behind your ears, his lips kissing you. barely seconds into the kiss, you heard whooping and screaming from behind you. when you pulled back from jj, he was smirking, raising his middle finger once again to pope, john b, and kie, who were all standing in the door of the Chateau, cheering you on. you, however, were still confused beyond belief, unable to move your eyes from him. he finally looked back to you, still smiling. “are you okay?” he’d laugh, tucking another stray hair behind your ear. “what was that?” he’d tilt his head at you, smile now replaced by a smitten look. “i thought-- i thought you and kie--” you simply shook your head in place of words, causing jj to laugh. “i told you you’re an idiot. every time i was with kie, it was to talk about you.” your jaw dropped at that, and you spun to face your friends. “pope, you fucking genius! you were right!” as per usual. pope was always right, especially when it came to his best friends.

[malereader-inserts]

Reputation

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Male!Reader Summary: Kol has a reputation to uphold, you’re just there to feed his ego Word Count: 1,061 Request: @marc-isthename  “Cliché trope InCoMiNg: highschool sweetheart x badboi™ which is basically Bughead 😛 But with, if possible, Kol,” A/n: Why do Bad boys always have angsty backgrounds, is there a bad boy because he just wants to be?

No one knows how you’ve fallen in love with the school’s bad boy.

God knows how Kol managed to be blessed to be with you.

Because Kol is hopeless, you are out of his league as Rebekah puts it. You’re too good for him, he thinks, he doesn’t deserve you but you say otherwise.

But somehow, you both work out really good. It’s like grease, you were the sweetheart that everyone loved, no faults about you. You got top grades in most, if not all, your subjects. You were kind and sweet - some could mistake you for being so innocent. But then comes in Kol - the bad boy of the school.

Kol never expected to find himself in High School, that was his sister’s cover-up and to get in with the local gossip. Kol could find entertainment however upon arrival, he was smitten with you. 

He almost begged Elijah and Rebekah to introduced himself to you because that’s how he only noticed you. It was your joyful laughter that allured him to you, standing there at the grill laughing at Rebekah’s whining about Klaus as Elijah stood there rolling his eyes.

Kol had never felt so nervous around a person, butterflies in his stomach that are out of control that he felt like throwing up. So, Rebekah dragged him into high school and pushed him into you, knocking you over. So, with cheeks so red he offered to carry your books and bag.

Still, he was only cutesy with you and everyone else found him intimidating. He drives a motorcycle just to spite you and his sister, he doesn’t go to any of his lessons unless you’re in his class so he can distract you. He never participates in gym class because “who actually wants to be alethetic, (Y/n)?” as Kol puts it.

“Just because you’re a vampire and actually don’t need sports to keep active you can’t judge other people who are fanatic about sports.”

“It’s just stupid,” Kol complains, rolling his eyes, “Come on, skip gym with me!”

“In your dreams, boo,” You hummed, kissing his lips before pushing yourself to enter the changing room.

“You know, I still don’t know what you see in him,” Matt greets you, leaning against the locker, looking confused.

“Kol?” You questioned, as he nodded but you shrugged, “Dunno, he’s just... sweet.”

“Sweet?” Matt scoffs, shaking his head, “Dude, Kol is terrifying, have seen that guy? He glares at everyone and everything, how are you dating that guy?”

“Aren’t you dating his sister?” You asked, pulling your gym top on, “Same difference.”

Matt huffs, agreeing with your statement as you two leave the changing room into the gym hall. Sure, you understand why your friends always second doubt your relationship with the Mikaelson.

He’s a psychopath, the needy middle child who is reckless and impulsive. He always needs to get his way, as Klaus bitterly says. Your friends remind you that he’s a vampire, he’s vain and he’s a killer - he has no morals, for all you know he could be using you to get to Elena for Klaus.

Yet, despite their complaints, you don’t see that. In fact, what you see is a man who has been pushed away continuously by his siblings. You see a man who’s so out of life, confused, and unloved. Yes, he was needy, but could you blame him? All he wants was your attention, your love.

So, he comes off cold, bad, unwanted to fend himself - to ward off people who could hurt him further. To him, you were a lifesaver, you were a grace sent by god, you were everything to him. 

“You’ve softened Kol, (Y/n),” Klaus announces as he sees you strolling into their kitchen to raid, “He’s not Kol.”

“And is that a bad thing?” You asked, challenging and tinted with a know it all tone.

“Not necessarily,” Rebekah comments as you rip open some large crisp packet, “It’s sweet, I’d say, he’s nicer.”

“You know, if you were just as nice to him he would be nicer back,” You informed them, knitting your eyebrows together before relaxing, “It’s not rocket science, you want respect you give respect back - you have to give to get, you know?”

You stroll back out to Kol’s room, exclaiming you could beat him in another round of some shooter game. Leaving Rebekah and Klaus dumbfounded in the kitchen.

“He’s right,” Elijah calls out to his siblings, “We don’t give Kol much credit than we think we do.”

“But-”

“Kol is smarter than what he leads on, maybe we should try listening to him.”

“I don’t understand why you even go to school,” You say, as Kol leans on the motorcycle whilst you adjust your backpack.

“Well, I’ve been affectionately named as Mystic High Bad boy, I can’t just let that go...” Kol says, grinning at you, “Plus, it annoys Beks beyond belief that I get more attention that she does.”

“Why? She’s the queen bee, she’s taken Caroline’s title,” You say, eyebrows furrowed, “And you’re doing this to keep up a reputation or feeding your ego?”

“Please,” Kol scoffs but pulls you into an embrace and kissing your hair, “A title is not feeding my ego, having the hottest boyfriend is.”

You chuckled into his chest, knowing that heat was slowly rising from your neck to your cheek, you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“You’re a dork,” You mumbled.

“You’re a real sweetheart,” Kol compliments you, “But, you can’t call me a dork when I have a reputation to hold!”

You push him off you, rolling your eyes and scoffing but a big grin on your face. You two looked at each before laughing, though it was cut off when the bell rang.

“Let me guess? You’re going to skip class?”

“No,” Kol says, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively, throwing his arm over your shoulders and glaring off anyone who dares to look at you, “You say Klaus’ hybrid’s giving you shit? I have the first period with him.”

“Don’t-”

“Don’t worry, love, you’ll get an apology at the end of the day from him,” Kol says, walking you to class, not caring that he’ll turn up to his late as he could hear some girls gushing over him, enlarging his stupid menacing grin on his face.

“Don’t murder him.”

“No promises.”

[sawyer-saucee]

If You Had The Chance To Change Your Fate...

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Words: 3,992

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Pairings: Rociet, fatherly logince, fatherly lociet, platonic anxciet, brief brotherly mociet (blink and you miss it)

Warnings: Crying, self-doubt, panic (but no panic attacks), mentions of breakups/divorce, a good hearty dose of Deceit’s potty mouth (swearing), arguing, mentions of Nazis (as in, our boys hate them)

Summary: Devon Lee, a hopeless romantic who would never admit to it, and Roman Adelio, a man who’s long since given up on love, are destined to be together. Will fate do its job correctly, or will the pair defy the ides of fortune?

A/N: This is a story I wrote for @quoth-the-sparrow​!!!! It took longer than I intended because it ended up being a monster of a story (originally it was only going to be around 1,000 words of pure fluff, but we can all see how that turned out), so dad, I hope you like it! (And I hope everyone else likes it too!) <3

10 years, 4 months, 13 days, 11 hours, and 58 minutes. That was how long Devon Lee had been waiting for his soulmate. As a child, he’d always assumed the world was colorless, and that everyone saw it the way that he did. But, as it had been explained to him by his older brother Patton when he was nine years old, eventually, when you found that one person who was destined to be your perfect match, your world would change. It was hard to explain how when Dee couldn’t even begin to visualize what this “color” Patton spoke of looked like, but his brother made it sound so appealing. “Dee,” He’d said, “You know that feeling you feel when your favorite TV show comes on at just the right time? Or… oh! Or that feeling when someone gets you the perfect gift?” And Dee had nodded as Patton grinned and said, “That’s what the world looks like when you find your soulmate.”

So, ever since that moment 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 2 minutes ago now, Devon had been waiting. And waiting. And waiting. At a certain point he quite honestly had become sick of waiting and had renounced the prospect of soulmates as a whole, but deep inside his chest there had always been a longing that he would never admit to - a secret timer keeping track of the 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 2 minutes that he’d been waiting. Not that he was counting or anything.

Roman Adelio, on the other hand, didn’t believe in soulmates, not one bit. He hadn’t since the moment his mother had walked out the scuffed front door of the house he’d grown up in, leaving him behind with only a father with the words, “Have you seen a pair of blue ballet slippers anywhere?” tattooed on his chest and the knowledge that even though the first words of his mother were permanently etched onto his father’s skin, that hadn’t stopped them from falling apart. He never wanted to be like them. So, he took the whole theory if Occam’s razor to heart and decided that the simplest explanation was that love was simply a fraud that he would never participate in.

…12 years, 6 months, 24 days 12 hours, and 9 minutes.

That was how long it had been since Roman had given up on love.

His skin was devoid of cheesy first word tattoos, and he was determined to keep it that way.

— — — — —

“Dee, come on, you’re 5 minutes late for your meet-and-greet already!” Virgil, Dee’s ever-so-irritable manager called from ten feet in front of the tardy YouTuber. Devon sighed and propelled himself forward with slightly more urgency, the tires of his wheelchair squeaking over the tiled floor.

“We’re not late, we’re simply rebelling against the society-imposed definition of punctuality,” he deadpanned, rolling past Virgil through to the outside of the building. “I, for one, think it’s an inspiring display of anarchy.”

“You know, it’s real funny to see you playing hard to get when you’re already hard enough to like.” Virgil huffed in response, giving the back of Dee’s chair a playful shove to get him going faster. The man laughed and deliberately slowed down, thereby causing Virgil to let out a sort of half distressed croak/half irritated groan. It was terribly amusing, to say the least. After a moment of tense silence broken only by Virgil’s incessant nerve-amplified echolalia, (“An- anarch- anarchy- anarchy- fuck…”), the manager finally snapped.

“That’s it, I’m going ahead. I’ll let the fans know you’re gonna be late, but you’d better hurry your ass up and get over there, okay? You have five minutes before I flip my fucking lid, Dee.”

“That sounds entertaining, maybe I’ll take my time just for that!”

“You have a goddamn death wish, I swear to god!” Virgil yelled as he took off sprinting towards the building they were overdue at. Dee chuckled and kept rolling along, enjoying how warm the sun was that day. His friends often joked that he was cold-blooded for how intolerant he was to the cold and… in truth, he wouldn’t deny it. It fit his aesthetic.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…” As the wind picked up, Dee noticed the voice that it was carrying with it. He didn’t believe in magical creatures like sirens, and yet his first thought upon hearing that voice was that no human could possibly sing so beautifully. The song was meant for a high voice, like the princess in the movie, but somehow the rich bass tones of the voice he was hearing brought the melody new life. In other words, he would allow this man to step on him, no questions asked. Dee’s vivid gray eyes - well, he had no idea if they were actually gray, because everything else was, too, but regardless - scanned the grassy courtyard he was going past and eventually landed on the shape of a man twirling around in the center of the yard. He was just as attractive as his voice was, further solidifying Devon’s resolve to allow this man to step on him. The wheels on his chair protested as he rolled into the grass, but Dee was so mesmerized by the image of this tall, lanky - was that a dress he was wearing? - unabashedly effeminate man that he hardly noticed the barrage of bumps.

Dee blinked, finding his vision going a bit blurry all of a sudden. Dots began flashing in front of his vision as he drew closer to the man, and he shook his head, absently dismissing it as an effect of jet lag. As he neared the man, getting close enough to make out details like the spattering of freckles all over his body, the light streak in his otherwise dark hair, even the collection of bandaids scattered all over his body, a sure indicator that he was either clumsy (he had so much limb for just one man, after all) or just plain reckless, Dee noticed something that he wasn’t sure how to explain. A change in the man’s face. The grays he’d spent his whole life staring at were morphing into something unrecognizable, and-

“Holy goddamn motherfucking shit…”

— — — — —

Roman clamped his mouth shut and turned to face whoever had just ever-so-rudely thrown off his groove. The courtyard had been blissfully empty for the first time that day and though he loved his fans as much as they loved him, a moment alone to sing had been a welcome intermission. Especially since he’d been around so many people bragging about their soulmates all day.

It was to be expected, of course, since Roman’s YouTube channel was dedicated to music and he sang love songs almost exclusively, but people introducing their soulmates to him still made him uneasy. All of the “We met because we were both fans of you!” And “Our first words were lyrics from your song, look!” Were sweet, of course, but still…unnerving. Every time he saw those tattoos he was that eight-year-old kid again, watching everything he loved slip away.

And now that his moment of solitude had been interrupted, he wasn’t gonna lie - he was more than a little irritated

“Excuse me, I was singing here!” He protested, placing his hands on his hips and sticking out his bottom lip in an indignant pout. Foot tapping fervently on the grass, he waited for the man’s response - a man who, Roman noted, was far more attractive than he had any right to be. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of green, though one had flecks of gold ringing the pupil. Roman hadn’t even known that was possible, he’d only ever seen characters in his favorite books described that way. Aside from that, his hair was an array of sloppily dyed and removed colors, with gray fading into yellow and then into purple and pink and blue and bleached-out blonde… it was like the guy had just grabbed whatever random boxes of dye he could reach and went nuts. It was cute, though. A large wine-stain birthmark made his fairytale-esque golden eye stand out even more and wow was Roman gay. That didn’t change the fact that he was tempted to go full Kuzco on this guy. He felt a pinch on his neck and winced, bringing his hand up to rub at it while he continued, “It’s not very polite to interrupt a man in the middle of a serenade!”

The man’s face remained blank and he blinked a few times, his hands tap-tap-tapping on the rubber wheels of his wheelchair.

“…I’m going to be real here, a moment ago I was annoyed but now I’m a little creeped-”

“You’re my soulmate,” The man whispered, so quietly that Roman wasn’t sure he’d heard him right. He hoped he hadn’t heard him right.

“…What? You-”

“You’re my soulmate!” The man shouted, eyes lighting up. “My brother once told me that seeing color was beautiful, but I never quite understood what he meant until now!” A moment of silence passed between them, and just as Roman was about to open his mouth to say that no, there must be a mistake, he didn’t even have a tattoo- “I’d apologize for the tattoo, but I find it rather funny that you have  “holy goddamn motherfucking shit” permanently etched into your skin.”

Roman let out a fearful squeak as he fumbled to pull out his phone and check his face in the camera. His cheeks and forehead were clear, nothing on his arms…he was almost ready to berate the man for lying when he noticed the dark words written in clunky, nearly illegible cursive on his neck. ‘Holy goddamn motherfucking shit.’

“…What?” This made no sense at all. He didn’t even know what to say. This man seemed nice and all, but Roman had promised himself he would never let this happen to him. There must have been some kind of mistake. “I don’t… I don’t have a soulmate!” He blurted stupidly, rubbing at the writing on his neck.

Dee squinted, confused. “…Right, of course you don’t. It isn’t like the first words I said to you just appeared on your neck and I can see color now, something that only happens once you find your soulmate or anything. But you know. Of course I’m not your soulmate.”

“No, I-” Roman stammered, falling back a step. “I-I- I don’t have a soulmate. And even if I do, I don’t want one!”

“Don’t…” Dee blinked, trying to process what this man, his soulmate, had just said to him. After all this time… he’d waited 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 24 minutes for this? A guy who wanted nothing to do with him? “Are you serious?”

“Yes! Look, you seem nice and all, but I-”

“No no no, I did not wait ten years for this-“

“Oh, so you expected your soulmate to just fall all over you the moment you met him? To sweep you away and live out a happily ever after with you? Is that it? Well, I’m sorry to destroy your fantasy, but I don’t do love, okay?”

A sigh broke past Devon’s lips as he crossed his arms, leaning forward to catch Roman’s eyes. “Geez, who the hell hurt you?” He asked flippantly, somehow missing the way the man’s face paled. “The universe matched us at birth and you’re not even going to speak to me?”

“The universe is bullshit!” Roman yelled, catching Devon off guard. “It’s all a fucked-up system that I don’t want to be a part of! I’m not letting some metaphysical Tinder ruin my life again!”

Among all of that dramatic ranting, one word stood out to Dee. “…Again?”

Roman blinked, mentally running back through everything he’d said. “I…” Dee noticed how hard his voice was shaking. “Just leave me alone. Please.” He whispered desperately, turning on his heel and sprinting away.

Dee watched the man run, the heeled boots he was wearing clacking against the smooth concrete like a heartbeat.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

That man was his soulmate.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

He wanted nothing to do with Dee… and there was a reason why. Something that man hadn’t been able to say. He knew it.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

But most importantly…

Ba-dum, ba-dum, creaaaak- the door of the nearest building opened and shut, the man’s face appearing once through the glass and then disappearing down a long hallway.

Someone had hurt him, and under no circumstances would Devon stand for that. With new resolve, he started painstakingly wheeling himself across the grass to follow his strange, sad new soulmate.

— — — — —

The moment Roman heard the door he’d run through shut behind him, he pushed into the closest bathroom and collapsed under the sinks. This was not possible by any stretch of the imagination. He’d come here to this goddamn con to have a good time and meet his fans and now he was, about to cry in a bathroom because some excited, well-meaning guy had come up to him and told him something that anyone else would be happy about. He let out a choked sob and covered his eyes, employing his fingers as little dams to keep the waterworks in. Going back out there with swollen eyes and a red nose was not an option.

What were his options, then? Avoid this guy for the rest of his life, not only subjecting himself to the constant fear of running into him again but the guilt of knowing that he’d deprived this guy of his (supposedly) one true partner, or accept it and live in constant fear of it all falling apart? He couldn’t do this right now. Hell, he couldn’t do this ever, what was meant to be the happiest moment of his life was making him feel things he hadn’t felt in years, things he’d never wanted to feel again.

“Anyone in here?” A voice called out, muffled through the flimsy wooden door of the bathroom.

“No!” Roman called back, mentally kicking himself for that stupid move.

“Good to know,” The voice replied, growing clearer as whoever it was pushed the door open. Roman heard the couple grunts and the squeak of rubber on tile, looking up for not even half a second to see his soulmate struggling to get the heavy wooden door open while his wheelchair kept rolling backward from the force of him pushing. “Stupid broken brakes…”

“What are you doing here?” Roman snarled, hastily wiping his eyes and retreating back further into the corner.

His soulmate shrugged as nonchalantly as a person could while fighting with a door, saying, “You seemed upset.”

“Yeah, because of you.” What was this guy’s problem? “I told you to leave me alone!”

“Well, I once told my brother that I wouldn’t come home from school until Aladdin came to pick me up on his magic carpet. We can’t all have what we want- a-ha!” He finally won the battle with the door, letting it shut behind him with a triumphant click! “Now, I believe we skipped some pleasantries. I’m Devon Lee. Or Dee, if you’d prefer. I didn’t catch your name.”

The bathroom went silent save for the shaky breathing of someone trying to stop crying and water echoing through the pipes overhead. Exchanging names would mean this man knew him. This man, with his mismatched eyes and crazy hair and obnoxiously bright yellow-and-green wheelchair (and people thought Roman was extra), would have a name to associate with his face. That would not do.

“I didn’t throw it.”

The excitement that flickered to life in Devon’s eyes was unexpected, and Roman nearly flinched when the man burst out, “Oh my god, that was not a Heathers reference!”

He got that? Most people only understood when he quoted the songs, not the script. “You know Heathers?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s not like I’m a die-hard musical theatre fan or anything.” Dee laughed, a sound that made Roman think of bubbles. “Heathers, Waitress, Hamilton, Rent, Sound of Music, you name it, I know-”

“You like the Sound of Music?” Roman gasped. He pushed himself up off the floor, forgetting for a moment why he was so upset. “Most people I bring it up to tell me it’s a girl’s show.”

Dee grinned. His smile was pearly white, though Roman didn’t miss the shiny gold teeth in place of his incisors. A brilliant smile, shiny gold fangs, a love of musical theatre almost as obsessive as Roman’s… what didn’t this guys have?

“Girl’s show?” He scoffed. “Please, gender is meaningless and Julie Andrews’s voice is a spiritual experience anyone would be blessed to hear.”

“Yes! Finally!” His hands twitched as he resisted the urge to happy-flap them. “I must know, though, who’s your favorite character?”

Dee pursed his lips, tugging thoughtfully at his hair for a moment before answering, “Leisl. I admire her capacity for deception.”

“Oh? You’re a fan of deception?” Roman’s eyebrows rose, and the fear that he’d forgotten about in the wave of that’s-my-hyperfixaiton joy bobbed back up to the surface like a shell being tossed around in the sea. “…why not Rolf, then? He was a classic liar, and a talented one too.”

“Rolf?” Dee folded over cackling, clutching his stomach as he fought to speak through incredulous giggles. “He was a Nazi! Not to mention that he betrayed Leisl, the girl who loved him, by trying to get her family murdered. You must think so little of me to even imagine that I could admire him!”

Though Dee kept laughing, Roman had long since fallen silent. This wasn’t okay. He wasn’t supposed to connect with Devon - or… well, technically he was supposed to, but he didn’t want to, even if the guy liked the Sound of Music and understood his Heather’s reference and had come after him when he was upset, even if Dee was attractive and seemed funny and kind… even if he appeared to be everything Roman had ever wished for, there was too much of a risk. Maybe Devon would expect too much or they’d have a long relationship until one day Roman’s heart was broken.

‘And I call myself brave,’ Roman’s mind scolded him. ‘Roman ‘Never Runs From a Challenge’ Adelio, a coward since the year of his birth, 1999.’

“Look, Devon…” he began. Dee stopped laughing immediately, turning to face Roman with a kind of intensity he’d never seen before. “I… you seem nice, but… I don’t… the rest of my life can’t be dictated by this,” his nails trailed over the tattoo. “I’ve seen the aftermath. It… it’s not good.”

Now, it was Devon’s turn to go quiet. Or it would have been, if he weren’t such a loudmouth. “Alright, I can’t say I don’t understand where you’re coming from,” Carefully, he rolled forward. “And I… while I want a soulmate, it wouldn’t be right for me to force you to have me. All I ask is this.”

Roman cowered at those words. Something bad always came after ‘all I ask.’ What would he want? His number? Sex? Something worse?

“Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?”

“…What?”

Devon smiled, repeating clearly, “Would you like to go on a date sometime?”

“I-” Had Devon not heard anything he’d just said? “I said I don’t… s-soulmates aren’t something I-”

“No, no, no, you misunderstand. Ignore the tattoo, ignore the colors thing, that never happened. I like you, no-name kid. You seem kind and genuine, not to mention that you’re a thespian and seem to be haunted by the ghosts of your past-” Roman laughed despite himself. “-all things I find incredibly attractive. Soulmate or not, I’d like to get to know you better. So, that said,” Devon folded his hands in his lap, sitting back and smiling that million-watt, gold-fanged smile. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

And in that moment, that 15 seconds where he was faced with a choice he’d always dreaded having to make, Roman felt his racing heartbeat begin to slow. The panic-induced adrenaline drained from his system and he let out a heaving sigh. He still had two choices, but those choices had changed now. It was no longer a matter of fate. No longer a choice between being guilty or trapped. It was now option A) Go on a date with this cool guy who he kind of liked, or B) Turn down a date with this cool guy who he kind of liked. Well, Roman may have been a stubborn ass sometimes, but he was also incredibly gay.

“…You know what? Okay. One date.” Roman huffed, bouncing a red converse-clad foot on the tile floor.

“Excellent! I only need one more thing from you.”

“Oh?” Roman smirked, “Well, ask away.”

“Would you mind tossing your name now?”

Roman opened his mouth to acquiesce before promptly snapping it shut with a sly little smile and pulling a paper towel from the dispenser over the sink. “Sure thing.” A moment later, a slightly-crumpled tissue landed on Dee’s lap as Roman walked past. “I’ll see you around, Devon.”

Dee hastily smoothed out the paper, finding two lines of text written in broad, loopy block letters.

Roman Adelio

+1 618-0339-8875

“I can’t wait, Roman.”

— — — — —

“And that, my son, is how I met your father!” Roman finished with a flourish, wrapping his arms around Dee’s neck from his place on his husband’s lap. Logan, the ever-curious 7-year-old that he was, clung to Devon’s leg and asked,

“But why did you accept Pa’s date if you didn’t want a soulmate?”

Roman smiled, pulling his son up onto his and Dee’s lap (and chuckling as Devon shoved the pair of them off). “Well, your father was against nazis, so how could I say no?”

“…Daddy, that can’t be where the bar is.”

“It isn’t!” Devon was quick to cut in, playfully smacking Roman on the arm. “What are you teaching our small, impressionable child, Roman?”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Roman yielded. His teasing expression softening as he gazed at Devon. “In truth, I still think soulmates are complete bullsh-” One glare from Devon washed his mouth out. “-I mean, completely fake. Logan, my little piece of stardust, listen to me.” He gathered the small boy in his arms, feeling his tiny heartbeat against his chest. “It is you and you alone who decides who you’re meant to be with. If that person is your soulmate, then that’s beautiful. If not, it’s just as beautiful to love someone else. Do you understand?”

Logan looked up into his father’s eyes, letting a small smile spread across his face before nodding. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good,” With a sigh, Roman stood, planting a tender kiss on Devon’s lips as he did so. “You know, my dear,” He whispered, leaning his forehead against Devon’s. “I may not believe in soulmates, but perhaps, to some extent, I believe in fate.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, my darling, that soulmates or not…I know I was meant to be with you.”

“Daddy! Pa! Gross!” Logan whined, wedging himself in between his fathers in a truly archaic act of rebellion.

Devon laughed, pushing himself off of his chair to make a wiggly little cuddle pile on the floor. The three of them fit together like long-lost puzzle pieces, each from different puzzles but all cut from the same mold. They may not have been what they were “supposed” to be, but they were still able to make something truly beautiful.

And that was enough.

[chikoriita]

The Search for Sora Ch. 5

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5

Dear Sora,

I can’t sleep again tonight. I haven’t slept much since I last saw you. Every attempts begins and ends with your smiling face disappearing once more. I won’t lie; these weeks felt hopeless. Who could bring you back? The King was at a loss as was Master Yen Sid. All I could do was wait for you on the beach. Just like I always do. What else was I good for? I promised that I would keep you safe. If only I made that vow to myself… Maybe you would still be here with us?

Speaking of which, I am furious. Riku says I shouldn’t be, but who can stop me in a letter? I heard about your grand speech. All worried about me being alone when I might never see you again! It was reckless beyond belief; when I find you, you’re getting the scolding of your life.

Tomorrow, we set course for Radiant Garden, and after that, who knows? The only thing we know is that waiting isn’t good enough anymore. Riku and I are going to find you, no matter what comes our way.

Until the next time.

Yours truly,

Kairi.

She set the pencil beside her on the bed. Birds chirped outside the window with the dawn. The early morning’s light was the backdrop to her journal entries. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well write her feelings. Her little habit that she started in the forest kept her sane after Sora’s disappearance. This time, however, she wished he could see her scribblings. Back then, they had all the time in the world to speak to each other. Why would she show him her journal? Now… she blinked back the tears once more. No use in crying now. Everyone would wake soon.

A knock at the door startled her. Her words came true sooner than she thought. Who else was awake right now?

“Princess? Can I enter?” Webby’s voice came through.

Kairi cringed at the title. After last night’s conversation with the Queen and the loose meaning of the title itself, she did not want anyone calling her Princess. It was a misnomer in itself. Only half of the last generation of Princesses were born royalty; Alice wasn’t a princess in any shape or form.

“Come in!” She called out as she put away the writing supplies.

The door creaked open, and Webby scooted in quietly, staring at the ground beneath her feet. It was a stark contrast to the confident girl she met last night. Kairi slid off the bed and studied the wizard in front of her. While Donald was brilliant but brash, Webby put on a facade to the world.

“You know,” Kairi started, catching Webby’s attention. “You don’t have to call me Princess. It’s not a real title anyway,” she said gently.

The younger girl’s face lit up. “Oh good! I was scared you’d be stuck up like a real princess.” She clapped her hands over her mouth, but a snicker escaped anyway.

“Does Queen Minnie know you think she’s stuck up?” Kairi teased.

“No, that’s not what I meant!” The duck gasped.

Kairi patted Webby’s shoulder. “I understand. I wouldn’t want my traveling buddy to be a brat either.” She winked.

Webby looked up at her with wonderment. “You want to be my buddy?” The hope in her voice nearly brought Kairi to tears once again that morning. This magnificent wunderkind thought that Kairi, of all people, would reject her friendship?

“I’d be lucky to be your friend, Webby,” she firmly responded.

“That’s nice because… ever since the triplets left the Castle, it’s been lonely. Max, PJ, and Bobby are always training, and it’s not fair to bother them.”

Webby wasn’t much different from Kairi in that sense. “The boys left you behind to go on their own adventure,” she commented.

Webby nodded. “Plus, I don’t have much luck with girl friends. There’s boys all over the castle, but I’m the only girl around my age.” She sighed. “When the King asked me to go off world and help you, I jumped at the chance. Then I met you, and…” Webby trailed off, once again staring at her feet.

Kairi finished her sentence for her. “You didn’t think I’d want to be your friend?”

The small wince was all Kairi needed to see to know that this girl was in dire need of a girl friend. If nothing else, Kairi was well-qualified for this job.

“I’d be honored if you wanted me as a friend, Webbigail.” Kairi took a deep breath in. “I’m not gonna lie to you. I’m a bad bet right now, and you’d get the short end of the stick.” Speaking the blunt truth might help her own mental state after all these months. No use lying to everyone and herself.

Webby spoke quietly. “Donald didn’t tell me everything, but he told me enough. You don’t have to share anything at all. It’s not my business.” She held out her little hand for Kairi to take.

“Thank you.” She shook Webby’s hand for all it was worth and gave her a small smile. “It’s my pleasure.”

---

He had barely slept in the few hours since all the Guards fell asleep when the bugle call had started. PJ assured him last night that the bugle call was meant for the new trainees, not him. It didn’t stop the trumpets from waking him up. What time is it?

“Morning Riku!” The overly cheerful voice penetrated the pillow covering his ears. A hand gently shook his shoulder.

Riku groaned at the intrusion. “A few more minutes, Sora,” he mumbled. This was probably his last chance before they left- He jolted awake. “Sora?” He called out desperately.

A shadow approached him. His vision was blurry, but he could tell that it wasn’t Sora. Too tall. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

His sight cleared to reveal Max standing at the end of his bunk. “Sorry,” Max apologized. “I didn’t mean to…”

Riku shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He rested his arm on his knee and looked Max in the eye. He resembled his father (how had Goofy not told them about a son?!) and had his kind face. “I just miss him,” he admitted quietly.

Max took in a deep breath and exhaled. “I don’t know what I would do if PJ or Bobby disappeared on me. I know I couldn’t pick myself up to find them through the worlds.”

Riku let a small laugh slip. “I’ve done this song and dance before, but I knew he was safe that time.” He swung his legs over the bed and stood up. “Don’t worry about me Max,” Riku reassured him and started for the exit. He paused when he heard Max call his name.

“Dad said that you’re a lonely guy. It doesn’t have to be that way.”

He wanted to argue. He wasn’t alone. He had Kairi. Soon, they would find Sora. Riku didn’t need anyone else. Right?

---

They stood in the Gummi Hangar, waiting for Riku, Chip and Dale to return with the Gummiship. Donald, Daisy, and Goofy were their final sendoff party. The King and Queen provided the supplies for their journey, but Donald and Goofy held their judgment.

“Do you all have your Gummiphones?”

“Yes Donald,” Max answered, patting the phone in his own pocket.

“Chargers?”

“Yes Goofy.” Kairi grinned cheekily at the knight.

“Snacks? Drinks? Potions?!” Donald quacked frantically as he pried Webby’s backpack open. She swatted him away and moved closer to Kairi.

Daisy yanked him back by the collar. “Calm down, Donald!”

Donald crossed his arms angrily. “They need to be prepared,” he insisted as Daisy let go of him.

Goofy patted him on the shoulder. “We have to let the kids go at some point.”

Donald harrumphed and turned away.

Kairi took a little pity on him. “Would you like to check my bag?” She held out her case.

Donald’s eyes shone at the request. He grabbed it quickly and rifled through the contents. “Kairi understands me,” he muttered. “Kairi is the smart one on this trip.”

“Donald!” Daisy admonished. “Give her bag back and settle down.”

Before the two could start another argument, the gears behind the group began to wind. They turned to find the Highwind rising to the platform. The ramp opened to reveal Riku and the chipmunks.

“All aboard the best Gummiship in the realm!” Dale announced.

Riku studied the group and their luggage. “Are we taking enough with us?” He joked despite the three teenagers waving their hands frantically behind Donald and Daisy.

Luckily Goofy had a handle on the situation. “Their Majesties don’t want y’all to be missing anything.”

Riku smiled slightly. “I wish we could thank them in person, but I want to get to Radiant Garden as soon as we can.” He clapped Donald and Goofy on their backs. “We’ll let you know when we find something.”

Daisy pulled Webby into a tight hug. “I’ve been so used to having you around. Be brilliant out there!” She nuzzled her head onto Webby’s.

“I’ll miss you too Daisy, but I can’t breathe!” Webby flapped her arms in distress.

Daisy let go of the girl and smiled at Max. “You both have grown up so much.” Her eyes watered.

Max felt the tears in his own eyes. Daisy had taken care of them both all these years in place of their real parents. She was the one who arranged birthday celebrations and made time in her busy schedule to attend to the castle wards. He put an arm around her shoulders. “Thank you Daisy.”

Goofy pulled his son into his own embrace. “You’re taking after your pop after all. I’m proud of you, Maxie.”

Kairi’s heart was heavy as they boarded the Gummiship. She took her seat in the co-pilot seat. The weight on her conscience didn’t lighten. As they left the world for Radiant Garden, the sensation only got worse. Maybe it was their sudden drop into Gummispace. Most likely, it was the fact that the fate of these two kids was tied to hers and Riku’s. The last time someone threw their lot in with them, he disappeared into the sunset.

She only prayed destiny did not repeat itself.

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