#I had to scroll through nearly all our messages to get that screenshot last night

[janeway-lover]

sadness and sorrows

[writer-k-pop]

Inside My Phone

나는 그의 연락처를 바꾸는 것으 잊었다. I forgot to change his contact name.

Description: During an appearance on a talk show about all things woman, YouTuber (y/n) reveals some cute relationship facts about her relationship with Seventeen’s Seungcheol. The hosts asked to call him and then his voice appeared in the interview as he’s asked a couple questions about you. Warnings: Swearing Genre: Fluff, Idol!Seungcheol x Fem!Youtuber!Reader Word Count: 2.3k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

"Alright," Sook, one of the panelists clapped her hands together, "Shall we move onto the next topic?"

My hands got a little sweaty with nerves, "This is the topic I'm most nervous about." I commented, looking at the other women sitting at the camera facing tables.

"The fans love 'Inside My Phone.'" Narae said and I couldn't deny that because I also really enjoyed watching this segment also.

A staff member handed me my phone and I looked to Sook who had a cord that would display my phone on the screen behind me.

"This," She said, holding the cord in front of her face, "Is the magically cord that will reveal what is on your phone. Are you ready, (y/n)?" She asks me with a quirked eyebrow.

I let out an airy chuckle, "I hope so." I tried to burst all the bubbles of nervousness but they still bubbled.

"I'm so curious!" Oh My Girl's Seunghee squealed excitedly from the spot next to Narae as Sook handed me the cord and I plugged it into my phone.

"Won't it be similar to what's on your phone?" Youngja wondered.

Seunghee shook her head, "Youtubers and singers are similar but she's totally different than me." She explained, "Plus, she might have cute photos with her boyfriend."

Narae clapped her hands, "Right! You don't have anything we should be worried about, right?" She asked her heavily hinted question, tilting her head down and rapidly blinked her eyes.

I shook my hands and head, but played into her joke. "There aren't any. I double checked last night." Though, there were never any naughty pictures on my phone to start with. We kept those somewhere else (😏).

"So, should we start then?" Sook asked everyone once the PD's gave us the clear connection for my phone.

"First up, your lock screen." Narae reads from her cue cards.

I awakened my phone and my lock screen shined up at me. The picture of Seungcheol and I surrounded by cherry blossoms graced my phone screen, only the time and date distorting the picture. The memory of the day made me smile and made the others coo.

"As expected." Youngja nodded her head in approval.

"When was this taken?" Sook asked me with curiosity.

"Mmmm, about..." I trailed off in thought, trying to pinpoint when we took this photo, "3-4 months ago, I think..." I answered her and gave her a slightly apologetic look for not remembering more clearly.

"Yah, that's so cute." Seunghee sighed, staring at the screen. I nearly blushed from all the compliments about us.

"Next, if you would unlock your phone." Sook pressed forward and I quickly followed her instructions. "What's the most recent photo you took?" She finished her part.

"Uh..." I opened my photos app, "Like selfie or screenshot or...?" "Selfie." Seunghee piped up excitedly.

I smiled at her answer and scanned my pictures for the last selfie I took. Which just happened to also have Seungcheol in it. I clicked on it and it filled my screen.

In it, Seungcheol has his post-practice face smooshed up against my left cheek and my face shows a smile of shock that he had done that. In the background, however, are a few of the members doing some interesting things.

"Stop being so cute!" Youngja exclaimed and swatted her hands in my direction.

"Can you explain what is happening?" Narae wondered and I nodded.

"A few days ago, I went to pick Seungcheol up for a small date and he was a little sweaty." I explained, "But he had asked to use my camera to fix his hair. Then he smooshed his cheek against mine and took the picture."

"All sweaty?" Sook asked.

I nodded with a laugh, "Yeah. It was gross."

"But the picture is cute." Narae complimented.

"But what is happening in the background?" Seunghee asked, pointing up to the screen with a little bit of worry.

I squinted at my phone and zoomed in on the background where Hoshi and DK were caught posing in some really weird ways and Vernon and Woozi just stare at them with their arms crossed over their chests.

"Ah, I think that's Hoshi and DK, uhm, yeah, I don't really know what they're doing." I laughed, "Probably some thing that only makes sense in their minds."

"They sure are characters." Sook chuckled. "Shall we continue on?"

I nodded, ready to get Hoshi and DK's weird poses off my screen.

"Last song or album you downloaded onto your phone." Narae said.

"That's easy." I opened my music app and scrolled down a bit, "It was Monsta X's new album." I tapped on the album but Seunghee's squeal made me quickly swipe back.

"OH!" She covered her mouth with her hand, "You have our album on your phone?"

I scrolled down a little more and there it sat. "Yeah, I really enjoyed it." I told her with a smile.

"Wait, how did you see that? It was like not even halfway visible." Sook wondered, looking at Seunghee with bewildered eyes.

"An artist knows their album cover from anywhere." I said, recalling the many times Seungcheol would point out their new release from a ridiculous distance away.

"Exactly." Seunghee said smugly, liking the fact that I defended her, "I could find our albums anywhere."

"Don't test her, Seunghee." Narae warned her as Sook pointed a playfully threatening finger at her.

"I really like their album." Youngja said absentmindedly and we all whipped our heads toward her, "The Monsta X album." She clarified, pointing up at the screen.

We all dropped our jaws slightly in realization and chuckled.

"Next question: what is the last text message you received?" Sook tapped her cue cards against the table and my heartbeat jumped.

"Uh, last text message I received..." I said slowly, and opened my messages app. Preparing for it to be a really embarrassing conversation in the group chat, I'm relieved when my most recent conversation is a private conversation with Seungcheol.

"Cheollie?" Narae read out his name and I almost bursted into laughter. He definitely told me to change his contact name yesterday and I definitely forgot. Oh, he was going to be so pouty when this show aired.

"I forgot to change his contact name." I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment. "He's going to be pouty."

"Why?" Youngja wondered, "It's cute!"

"Hey, you sound like a fangirl." Narae pointed at Youngja with a laugh.

"I'm just stating facts." Youngja defended herself.

"What did Seungcheol send you?" Sook wondered, ignoring the other two women.

"Uh, he said," I opened the conversation and the last message he sent made my heart fill with love.

'Hey, you, I don't remember when you said your filming thing is but good luck! You'll do amazing! Call me when you're done and we can do something. Love you!'

Seunghee giggled and Narae and Sook put their hands over their hearts and leaned back in their chairs. Youngja just awed at the message. It was a little weird having such large reactions to a simple, pretty normal, text message so all I could do was laugh at the awkward position I was in.

"Ya, I don't think any of my friends get messages like that and they're married!" Sook said, regaining some of her composure. Seunghee was still very much still in the feels.

"It's pretty normal for us." I told her, "We don't do it often but if we know the other has a really big schedule, we'll send supportive messages like that."

"By chance," Narae started with an unexplainable excitement in her eyes, "Do you think you could call him?"

I paused to glance at the PD's behind the cameras but they were saying it was okay to go off script.

"If he's free." Sook added, quickly taking in my silence, "If he's busy, we don't want to bother him."

"I don't think he has anything going on today." I tried to recall if he told me of any plans he had for the day, "I can try calling him."

Narae and Sook clapped their hands for me while I tapped on Seungcheol's profile picture and hit the call button before turning it on speaker.

We all sat in silence, listening to the first ring. Then the second. Then the third.

"Maybe he's busy..." Seunghee whispered.

"Maybe his phone's off." Youngja suggested.

I shook my head, "He doesn't really turn his ringer off if he-"

The receiver picking up cut me off.

"Hey, love." Seungcheol's deep voice rings through the phone. "Are you already finished?"

All four women got really giddy and their jaws dropped open.

"No, not yet." I answered him before he got worried. "Do you have time to call? Are you busy?" I asked.

"I'm not busy. I'm just hanging out at the dorm." He told me and I felt relief spread across my shoulders. "Are you good?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." I chuckled at his question, "We're just recording and we are doing 'Inside My Phone' segment. They saw the text you sent and wanted to call you."

"Ah, that text." He chuckled over the phone in embarrassment. "Wait! That means you're recording right now?"

"Yeah." I told him and he instantly cleared his throat.

"Hello, I'm Seventeen's leader, S.Coups. Also known as YouTuber (y/n)'s boyfriend, Choi Seungcheol. Nice to meet you." He introduced himself with his leader voice and I nearly busted a lung from laughing.

"Nice to meet you, S.Coups." Sook said, getting closer to my phone. "I'm Kim Sook and Park Narae, Lee Youngja, and Oh My Girl's Seunghee are also with me."

"Seunghee's there?" Seungcheol asked, clearly surprised.

"Yes I am, sunbae!" Seunghee jumped up with excitement.

"Oh, Seunghee, I didn't know you'd be on the show." Seungcheol commented.

"(y/n) didn't tell you, sunbae?" Seunghee asked, shooting me a glance but I just shrugged. I didn't even know she was coming until I showed up for the recording.

"No, but I don't think she knew." Seungcheol explained and I clicked my tongue.

"S.Coups." Narae spoke up, "(y/n) said that you guys send texts to each other before big events."

"Yes, that's true." Seungcheol said.

"So when was the last time she sent you a text like that?" Narae finished her question.

"Uh..." Seungcheol trailed off in thought, "Last month when I had my first solo magazine shoot." He answered and the studio erupted in reactions.

"Yahhh. You two seem to match each other really well." Sook commented and Seungcheol let out an embarrassed laugh.

"What is your favorite thing about (y/n)?" Narae suddenly asked, turning the show into a special on our relationship.

"This suddenly?" Seungcheol chuckled nervously.

"You don't have to answer." I quickly tried to save him from having to answer it but he decided to answer anyway.

"No, no, it's fine. It was just unexpected." Seungcheol said and took a couple seconds to collect his thoughts, "Well, my favorite thing would have to be how considerate she is."

"Can you explain that?" Sook wondered and I lightly smacked her arm while giving her a 'why?' expression.

"She's just very caring towards everyone." Seungcheol explained, "The Seventeen members, our staff, other staff, and even the fans. She's very kind to them."

"That's right. She is really kind." Sook nodded her head in agreement and patted my shoulder.

There was some noise on his end of the line and I leaned forward to take over the conversation again.

"Everything good?" I asked, knowing the noise was probably the other members talking to him.

"Yeah, but I think I'm going to have to go. I'm being summoned by Woozi to fix some lyrics or something." Seungcheol said with an apology laced into his tone.

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead." I told him, "I'll call you when I get done."

"Okay, sounds good." He replied, "Thank you Sook, Narae, Youngja, and Seunghee! (y/n), have fun!"

We all said bye before I hung up the call. After settling back into their chairs, Sook was the first to speak.

"That was so nice that he was able to talk for a little bit." Sook commented, scooting closer to the table.

"It was." I mirrored her content.

"So, tell us, (y/n)," Narae turned to me, "Do you have any big projects coming up?"

"Of course, I have many projects planned for the next few months." I teased her with a smile, "But they're all secrets for now."

Seunghee let out a small whine, "Can't you tell us about one of them? Like just who it's going to be with?"

"Yeah," Sook agreed, "Just give us a little hint. A tiny baby hint."

Youngja sat in her chair nodding aggressively.

I rested my hand over my lips, contemplating if I can or if I should. Glancing at my manager, she gave me a small shrug of indifference.

"Okay, I'll give you three hints for certain upcoming videos." I caved and the others clapped in excitement. I listed off the hints with my hands, "First hint is shopping. Second hint is colors. Third hint is boyfriend." I said and then clamped my mouth shut, not giving any other information.

"That's it? You're not going to explain?" Youngja said with a pout.

"She can't do that." Sook calmed the other woman, "They're hints. The fans have to try and guess, right?"

"Right, that's how hints work." I nodded, confirming Sook's guess.

"Well, thank you for coming, for talking with us, and for giving us those hints." Narae began the ending. "We'll see you at the Girl's Table next week."

"On Wednesday night." Sook continued.

"At 8:45." Seunghee stated the time.

"On KBS!" Youngja finished and we all smiled and waved at the camera.

Once the cameras were off, I moved to pull the cord out of my phone. But just as I do so, a text from Seungcheol lit up the screen.

It read, "You did remember to change my contact name, right?"

[onlydreamofmysoul]

Headlines

A fun cubs come out fic!

Characters and their world by @lumosinlove

@im-oknutzy-trash - here you go!

(Just one last note - there is one scene with a little spicy quip but it doesn’t get in any way explicit :))

“I’m home!” Finn called as he came through the door to their apartment, duffle bag falling off his shoulder and crashing into the door.

“Wow.” Logan commented, coming over to help him. “Home for less than a minute and you’re already trying to wreck the place.”

“Oh hush.” Finn said, dropping his bags and pulling Logan in by the waist. “Hello to you too.”

Logan grinned and went soft, leaning into Finn’s kiss. “How was Alex?”

They moved away from the door to the couch, Logan setting Finn’s bag aside to be dealt with later. 

“Good, Kase and Nat are going out to see him in a few days so he was all excited.” 

Logan laughed, kicking off his shoes to curl his feet under him. “Now that I get.”

Finn smiled and glanced around. “Where’s Leo?”

“He just had to pop out to the shop. We’re out of milk. He should be back soon though.”

Finn nodded, looking down at his hands, fiddling with his fingernails. “Hey Lo?”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking about… well what if… So like, you know Cap and Loops, right?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Our teammates? Yeah I think I’m vaguely familiar with them.”

Finn huffed, rolling his eyes. “Wow sassy. You know that’s not what I meant.”

Logan tilted his head to the side in acquiescence, letting Finn continue. 

“I want to be like them.” Finn said quickly. “Can we be like them?”

He watched Logan frown for a moment, trying to figure out the difference between Remus and Cap and them. “Wait,” He murmured, eyes meeting Finn’s. “Do you mean?”

Finn nodded. “Yeah. I think maybe we’re ready?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Leo coming in. 

“Hey Lo!” He said, without even looking around yet. “I got milk and that bread you like. Did Finn message you yet, he definitely should have landed by now.”

Leo reached the counter, putting the milk in the fridge before turning around and finally noticing the two boys in the room.

“I think his flight landed.” Logan said dryly, watching Leo take in Finn’s presence. 

“Hi baby.” Finn said, with a smile, truly grinning when Leo left the shopping bag half-empty and came over to kiss him hello instead. 

“Hi.” Leo said, slipping into the gap between his two boys. “I missed you.” 

Finn heard himself make a pleased noise as he leaned in to kiss Leo again. “Missed you too.”

“So,” Leo said as he pulled away, pulling Logan’s feet onto his lap. “What’re we talking about?”

Finn met Logan’s green eyes, pausing for a moment. “Um, I uh…”

Logan kicked his foot forward to nudge it against Finn’s thigh. “I got it Harzy.” He then turned to Leo. “We were thinking, maybe it’s time for us to come out? It’d be nice I think, not having to hide.”

Finn watched Leo carefully as the younger boy blinked in surprise before a small smile took over his face. 

“Yeah,” He breathed, looking between Logan and Finn. “Yeah that would be nice.” He bit his lip, looking smug and mischievous and Finn thought he might be falling in love all over again. “But I think we should have some fun first.”

****

Logan stumbled off the bus wearily - that four hour bus ride had just seemed to go on forever. Reporters stood outside the door to the hotel, despite the cold and the late hour but Logan leaned into Leo’s side anyways, Leo’s arm around his shoulder, Logan’s hand beneath his jacket. Photographers went wild, cameras shuttering quickly and Logan hid his smile in Leo’s jacket. This was going to be a whole lot of fun. 

****

Leo looked up as Marlene entered the locker room, glancing around to see who might be ready and available for an interview. Leo caught her eye and waved her over. 

“Hey Leo, how about a quick video for social media? I won’t keep you longer than five minutes.”

Leo smiled, he didn’t mind, this was all a part of their plan, the team and the rest of the staff had been made somewhat aware. Plus, he liked Marlene so he never had a problem with the interviews. “Sure.”

“Okay great!” She gave him a thumbs up as she started recording. “So, just last night, pictures of you and Logan Tremblay were released as you got off the bus - have you anything to say about them?”

Leo nodded, grinning. “Don’t forget James photobombing in the background. I think he was going for a ‘bunny ears’ effect but it ended up looking like he was doing it to Kasey instead. I think I need to get a copy framed.”

Marlene laughed, moving on. “So you and Logan are close then?”

Leo looked around the room comically. “What? You mean right now? Cause He’s in the PT room so a lot of the guys are closer.”

Marlene bit her lip, her eyes sparkling. “How do you feel about this game then?”

Leo sat back, finally going to answer a question honestly. “I’m feeling good. We’ve had a great start this season and I’m pretty confident.”

Marlene gave him another thumbs up and headed off to go chat to some of the other guys. A few stalls over, Finn met Leo’s eyes and blew him a kiss. 

*******

“The media seems to have calmed down a bit.” Logan commented as they all sat at home watching a movie. “Think it’s time for our next one?”

“Ooh, yes!” Finn enthused. “I call being in this one.”

Logan laughed and pulled out of the way so he could take a picture of Finn kissing Leo’s cheek, Leo’s face all scrunched up in a smile. 

“There you go, post it.”

Finn grinned, going to Instagram and putting up the picture with the caption ‘Days like this’ before tagging Leo for good measure. 

“That should entertain them for a couple of days.” He said, satisfied as he tossed his phone to another chair and leaned back into Logan’s warmth, kissing the spot just below his ear. 

“You and me next baby,”

****

Leo Knut and Finn O’Hara?

More than one couple in the Lion’s Den?

Knut cheating on Tremblay?

Logan laughed as he scrolled through the headlines and posts from fan accounts, taking screenshots of some of the art of them that had already begun to bubble up. Thomas was on the other side of him, watching a video of a fan analysing the teams interactions, trying to figure out who was actually in a relationship, laughing every few minutes. 

“Knutty,” Logan called, summoning Leo. “Look at this one.”

Leo took his phone and read the caption out loud. “Knut’s betrayal making Tremblay tremble?” He looked up and met Logan’s eyes, his face blank. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

“I do!” Finn interrupted, coming up behind Logan and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. “Okay Lo, you hold up the article, now someone take our picture please!”

Logan ginned and relaxed into Finn as James snapped them together before posting it to his own account. ‘Doesn’t seem to be trembling to me.”

****

“I’m gonna go get some coffee, do you guys wanna come?” Leo said, the three of them still lying in bed. Finn shook his head, still mostly asleep, but Logan perked up.

“From the café down the street?”

Leo nodded, laughing when Logan was up like a shot, pulling on his clothes. 

“We’ll bring you back some, okay sweetheart?” Leo said as he leaned over the bed once more to kiss Finn goodbye. Finn just nodded and burrowed deeper into the duvet. 

“Love you.” He mumbled and the two boys left him to his dreams, slipping out of the room quietly. 

They walked down the street, hand in hand, going mostly unnoticed by the public. It was still early and a Sunday, so there weren’t too many people up and about, but even those that were paid them very little attention. It was easy to forget, in moments like this, that they had entire fan pages dedicated to them and many days they weren’t even recognised on the street. 

They got their coffee and drank it there, holding hands over the table outside the front door, watching the people passing by and chatting idly. Leo thought he spotted someone taking a not-so-discreet picture of them, but they didn’t care. Logan went inside to grab Finn’s cup to go and Leo lounged in the sunshine for a moment, breathing in the cool, sharp air. 

He opened his eyes to find Logan standing over him, looking down amusedly. “D’accord, mon choupinet?"

Leo smiled and stood up, stretching lazily. “Oui.”

They came back home to Finn still in bed, and joined him under the covers while he sipped his coffee.

“Oh, look we’re back in the headlines.” Leo commented as he angled his phone for them both to see. A photo of Leo and Logan from just a half hour ago stared back at them, Logan laughing at something Leo had said. 

“That’s such a cute picture,” Finn noted, putting on his glasses to take a closer look. “You should save that.”

Knut and Tremblay reunited? No news yet on how O’Hara is taking this latest blow.

“O’Hara would be doing fantastic if he had another kind of blow.” Finn grumbled, then blushed when he realised he had spoken out loud. “I mean-”

“Oh, we know what you meant.” Logan said, taking the nearly empty coffee cup from Finn and setting it on the nightstand as Leo eased Finn back, slipping under the covers as Logan captured his lips. “And that can be arranged.”

****

“So when do you guys think you’ll let them know what’s actually happening?” Remus asked Leo as he helped the blond boy with his stretching. 

Leo bit his lip as he thought. “I don't know? Soon maybe though, because this is fun and all but I’m tired of being analysed all the time now. At least if we tell them the truth, they’ll be chasing after us for a couple of weeks but then it’ll all settle down and be nice and quiet again, you know?”

Remus nodded, smirking when Leo took a sharp intake of breath as he pushed his legs a little further apart. “Yeah for sure. It’ll be pure chaos for a bit, but then they’ll quickly move onto the next big thing, I promise.”

Leo nodded, a little lost in thought. “Yeah, I’m ready to have a bit of privacy again. I think I’ll say it to the boys tonight.”

Remus nodded and pushed Leo a little further, laughing when Leo cursed under his breath.

“Fuck, if I’m alive after all this that is.”

****

“Alright, we’re doing this so?” Logan confirmed, making sure everyone was in agreement. 

“Yup.” Leo said, popping the ‘p’.

“It’s time.” Finn confirmed as they all pulled up the same picture they had chosen to post - a photo of the three of them taken at a party at Dumo’s. Logan sitting in Leo’s lap, head tilted up as he kissed Finn who was handing them their drinks. 

“Captions ready?” Finn asked and the other two nodded.  “Okay. Three,”

“Two,” Leo said.

“One.” Logan breathed and they all clicked ‘post’ at the same time. 

The next day, all the headlines were their Instagram captions-

Leo and Logan.

Finn and Leo.

Logan and Finn.

(Three’s not a crowd).

[storiesforallfandoms]

private ~ eminem

word count: 1445

request?: yes!

“hellooo🥺i was wondering if i could request an imagine for eminem. Maybe where the reader (female) is also a singer and she posts a cute picture of them together by accident and fans go crazy since she’s very private and tells Em and so they reveal they‘ve been dating for like two years. feel free to change it if you need to. Love your writing, i hope you have a nice day 🤍🤍”

description: in which they’re both very private about their personal lives, until she accidentally posts a picture of the two of them

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

Before my career took off, I had a personal Instagram account that was private. It was for my friends and family and that was it. When I started to really become famous, and people started looking up my social media, I decided to make a public account just for fans to follow.

I wasn’t a very public person. I liked my privacy, but I also liked to share some of my personal life with friends and family. One of these things that I liked to share was my relationship with Marshall.

We had met through mutual friends and hit it off immediately. He met my family, I met his daughters, and within a few months, we were basically living with one another. I loved Marshall, and I loved to show him off. However, we were both very private people, meaning any showing off I did was always on my personal social media accounts, not my public ones.

On a rare night that we both had off, Marshall decided to make dinner for the two of us as a stay at home date. I was trying to take a picture of the meal with Marshall in the background, but of course he refused to take a good picture.

“Why do you have to be on your phone right now?” he asked. “We’re trying to have a nice date, no phones.”

“I want to take a picture of what you did for us,” I argued with him. “I want to show my family, is that okay?”

He playfully rolled his eyes at me, but didn’t say another word. I held my phone up again to take another picture, to which Marshall held up his middle finger just as I took the picture.

“Charming,” I said and rolled my eyes.

I figured it was the best I was getting, so I decided to quickly type a caption and post the picture before turning my phone off.

“It’s off,” I told him before showing him my phone. “Look, off. I’ll put it on the counter, you have me all night.”

“Thank you, that’s all I ask.”

We finished dinner and ended the night in the bedroom, as to be expected. When I woke up the next morning, I was still cuddled in Marshall’s arms. I couldn’t help but smile as I placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before slowly wiggling out of his arms.

I pulled on his discarded shirt and made my way to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of us. As I began to cook, I realized I had left my phone off in the kitchen all night. I turned it back on, hoping that I didn’t miss anything too important the night before.

The moment my phone turned back on and connected to the wifi, I was bombarded with messages. Numerous mentions in tweets and Instagram comments, people trying to DM me on both social media platforms, multiple text messages from friends of mine all saying the same thing, “Did you mean to do this?”

I was confused. I couldn’t understand what was happening. For a moment, I started to worry that some tabloid had decided to write an article about me, or someone was trying to spread some sort of rumors about me. It wouldn’t be the first time. It wasn’t until I read the name Paul Rosenberg, Marshall’s manager, on my screen and the text message he had sent me.

“I don’t think this was on purpose, but it’s been up too long for deleting it to do anything. You and Em are about to have a field day. I’ll let you break the news to him”

Attached to the text was a screenshot of the picture I had taken of Marshall the night before, along with the caption I had written, “Date night in with my love”. It wasn’t until I read the username, “(Y/F/N)official”, that I realized I had posted it on my public Instagram, not my private one.

My eyes widened as I fumbled to try and unlock my phone. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, no!”

And there it was, the picture of my loving boyfriend with a caption that confirmed our relationship. I scrolled through the comments to read everyone’s reaction. Most people were shocked, very few of my fans were aware that I even knew Marshall. Many were very happy for me, and for Marshall. And then, of course, there was a small fraction of both of our fan bases that were unhappy with our relationship.

My DMs were filled with people reacting to the picture, and my Twitter notifications were bombarded with tabloid accounts posting stories about the “surprise confirmation”, and people’s reactions to it on there.

I felt myself becoming angry and frustrated. I locked my phone and threw it onto the counter, burying my face in my hands and starting to cry. I couldn’t believe I had managed to fuck up the one private thing I had in my life. When Marshall woke up he was going to be pissed. He wasn’t one to share his personal life, and now I had outed the both of us. We’d never get privacy ever again, not from fans and definitely not from paparazzi.

I heard footsteps approaching the kitchen and quickly wiped my eyes with the sleeves of Marshall’s shirt. He appeared in the doorway of the kitchen moments later, stretching his arms out as he did so.

“Good morning,” he said. “Are you burning something?”

I remembered then that I had forgotten all about the omelette I was making. I raced over to the pan and tried to flip the, only to find it stuck to the pan, and anything that wasn’t stuck was nearly black. I turned off the stove and threw the spatula I was using in frustration, exclaiming, “God fucking dammit!”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine,” Marshall said, wrapping his arms around me. “It’s just one omelette, we can make another. We have plenty of pans.”

“It’s not just that,” I sighed, turning to face him. "Remember that picture I took of you and the dinner you made us last night?” He nodded. “I thought I posted it on my private Instagram, but I was posting so quickly that I didn’t double check before I posted it and turned off my phone and I...I posted it to my public Instagram account.”

Marshall looked at me for a moment, his face confused. The longer it took him to realize what this meant, the more I found myself bracing for the moment he realized.

“Okay?” he said. “What does that mean?”

“It means I accidentally outed our relationship, Marshall,” I said. “Everyone knows. Nearly half the tabloid news sites have written fucking articles about it at this point, my social media has been bombarded with messages, I’m sure yours has too - ”

“I don’t give a fuck about being all those messages,” he said with a shrug. “I have my notifications off, and you should, too, if it’s going to bother you that much.”

“The messages aren’t bothering me!” I snapped, my frustration with myself erupting once again. “What’s bothering me is the fact that I outed our relationship by accident. Marshall, I fucked us over here! Because of me, we can never have any privacy ever again. We can’t go out on the down low, fuck, we probably can’t even leave the house right now cause there’s probably people outside! And it really fucking sucks cause...I felt so normal in our relationship. For a while, I forgot I was under everyone’s watchful eye and all I cared about was you.”

Marshall took me in his arms and held me tightly as I began to cry. He ran his fingers through my hair, kissing the top of my head as I let out my frustration.

“You haven’t fucked us over,” he told me. “Yeah, I wanted to keep this private, too, but I don’t care if the world knows about us. We don’t have to share every detail of our relationship, but I don’t mind if we get caught holding hands, or even just spending time together. At least everyone will know that you’re mine.”

I pushed away from his embrace to look up at him. “You’re not mad at me?”

He wiped away my tears with his thumbs and cupped my face. “Of course not. You didn’t do it on purpose, it’s fine baby. We’ll get through this, it’s not the end of the world.”

I smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. Let’s go get some breakfast, I’m starving.”

[alolowrites]

A Beautiful Blessing

Summary: Someone leaves a mysterious box outside your apartment in the middle of the storm. Fortunately, no one gets hurt. 

Author’s Note: This is my first story for @bnhabookclub​‘s Hero Camp Bingo event happening right now! It officially runs from June 5th until August 15th and I received my very own bingo card to fill out. Fun fact, I wrote this story prior to the bingo event happening (lol), so I’m glad it worked out! 

I posted my bingo card below. Each time I submit a story for this event, I will cross off the prompt I used as well. The first prompt I crossed off was Adopt a Pet! Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1.5K

A powerful storm rages through your neighborhood.

It is the perfect excuse to stay inside and watch random Netflix movies with your favorite person by your side. You snuggle closer to Shinsou, resting your head on his shoulder; his arm comfortably holds you and acts like a weighted blanket that nearly puts you to sleep. You suppress a yawn as an impromptu lullaby emerges from the raindrops pelting against the glass window.

The movie ends, and you stretch forward, “Pick the next one.”

Shinsou reaches for the remote, moving the bowl of popcorn sitting in the middle. You snatch it before the snack falls, avoiding a great tragedy. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for last week’s popcorn mess; the couch wouldn’t stop crunching up a song that night. Shaking your head, you shove a handful of the buttery goodness into your mouth and check some text messages. Your ears perk when a distinct sound rings outside.

“Did you hear that?” You glance at the window. A ray of lightning scatters across the dark clouds, which looms above the apartment building, “It sounded like a high-pitch mewl.”

Shinsou shrugs, “Probably your thought process at work.”

You whack his stomach. He snickers and continues scrolling through the selection.

“Very funny,” you dryly remark. The wind howls as the storm picks up its strength. A bright, white sheet temporarily blinds the entire sky, followed by a ferocious thunder that shakes the apartment complex. Through your munches, you hear the high-pitch noise return. With narrowed eyes, you stand up from your couch, “I’m gonna go check it out.”

“I’ll start the movie without you if you take too long.”

“Pfft, sure.” You stride toward the door, but regret opening it when the rain rudely greets your face. Groaning, you rapidly scan around until something catches your eye. An odd, medium-sized cardboard box sits near the door, a raggedy shirt flapping on top; you become suspicious.

“Hitoshi!” His eyes immediately peel away from the TV at the sound of your worried voice. You look over your shoulders, “There’s a random box outside.”

Shinsou springs into action, “Don’t touch it and get away from the door!”

He snatches his scarf and rushes to the entrance. Just as you turn around, the same mewl cries from inside the box; it sounds like a baby animal. Your curiosity ultimately wins as you kneel to inspect the package. Shinsou screams out your name, but you ignore him like an idiot. Tossing the torn cloth aside, you gasp at the sight below—it’s a little kitten.

“Oh, you poor thing!”

The frightened animal shivers in the farthest corner from you. It helplessly cries like a broken record, and your hands reach inside to comfort the wet bundle. Shinsou arrives with his scarf ready to protect you from an attack. His defensive stance weakens when he sees a black kitten in your grasp.

You shield the animal from the rain, “Let’s get inside! Find me a towel!”

A trail of water droplets follows you to the kitchen. Shinsou hands you a towel before heading outside again to inspect the box. The kitten meows as they get dried, their head twisting nonstop and body squirming around. You couldn’t blame the innocent feline for being petrified. After a few minutes, you uncover the kitten and scratch behind their ears to calm them down; it works like a charm.

Cradling the fur baby in your arms, you search for a warm blanket and head to the couch. Shinsou finally joins you with a puzzled expression. His eyes land on the kitten comically wrapped up like a burrito. The animal sneezes and owlishly blinks at Shinsou; the hero fights back a snort.

“Was there anything else inside?”

“Nothing. Not even a single note.”

You frown, stroking the kitten’s forehead, “Who the hell left this poor baby outside in that dirty box? Especially in the middle of this horrible storm! What if we weren’t home to save them? I don’t even want to imagine how much this fur ball would have suffered.”

“I’m wondering why they chose our apartment,” Shinsou mutters, his mind trying to remember anyone who might know his address. He tries to keep his personal life under wraps, even if he works more as an underground hero. Only his closest friends know where he lives, but they never would do something like this. Shinsou didn’t find any explosives or deadly chemicals inside the box, ruling out a villain. Maybe a crazed fan? He’s had a few run-ins with them before. Your giggles interrupt his brooding thoughts.

Lilac eyes shift down and watch as the kitten chews on your finger. A small grin curves on Shinsou’s lips at the adorable sight. You loosen the blanket so the kitten can move more freely. Little paws press on your thighs as its button nose sniff your clothes.

Shinsou tilts his head, “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“Good question,” you hum and inspect the kitten’s behind, “It’s a girl!”

“We need to take her to the vet tomorrow,” Shinsou’s hand immediately gets attacked by the kitten’s paws and he chuckles while playing along. The exuberant fur ball distracts him from his thoughts, nipping the hero’s fingers with their sharp teeth. It does not hurt Shinsou one bit; if anything, the bite feels more like a small prick. He then grins, “Got to get this little rascal properly checked out for any injuries and see if she’s a lost pet.”

“I doubt she’s a missing pet.” An annoyed thumb jerks behind you, “This little angel was left outside our doorstep in a wet cardboard box. If anything, I want to find the person who abandoned her like this and kick their ass.”

A meow squeaks below. You gesture at the kitten and chirp, “See? Even she agrees with the idea!”

“Let’s take this one step at a time,” Shinsou smirks before searching for the nearest veterinary office on his phone. You roll your eyes and continue to play with the energetic kitten. Shinsou does not react when you reach for his scarf to entertain your new guest. Dangling the fabric in the air, you squeak when the kitten jumps and grabs it; the scarf quickly engulfs the fur ball’s tiny frame. After a few shuffles, her head pops out, and you laugh.

“Got the address,” Shinsou takes a screenshot of one location. He glances at the kitten who endearingly tilts her head at him; he shakes his own, but a faint smile creeps on his face, “I guess we’ll create a make-shift bed for her in our room.”

“Ooooh, yes! I got some old clothes we can use.” You scoop the kitten in your hands and jump off the sofa. Heading to the bedroom, you cry out, “C’mon! She needs some rest; poor baby has been through a lot for one night.”

Shinsou doesn’t argue with you as he snatches his scarf off the couch and follows closely behind.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

“Well,” the veterinarian does a quick once-over at her patient. You wait with bated breath for the doctor’s results. Shinsou stands beside you with arms crossed, “Despite missing some vaccinations, she appears to be a healthy three-month-old kitten. I gave her a couple of shots, but she will need to come back in a few weeks for the next doses, though.”

You are relieved, “Thank you, Dr. Sasaki!”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles, bopping the animal’s nose, “The kitten also has no prior owner since I did not detect a microchip. She’s all yours!”

The curious kitten almost falls off the exam table, but you grab her with lightning speed. As soon as the doctor leaves, you face Shinsou and slice the air with your hand, “We have to keep her!”

“Huh?”

“I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. She has no home, and I don’t want her ending up in a shelter. Besides, look at her!” You raise the kitten to his eye level and pout to strengthen your case. Shinsou arches an amused eyebrow. “How can you say no to that itty-bitty face?”

On instinct, the kitten meows and instantly melts the hero’s heart. He scratches the back of his neck while saying, “Okay, fine. We’ll keep her.”

You squeal, cradling the bundle of joy closer to your chest; she purrs softly in your arms. Shinsou enjoys seeing you this happy. Unbeknownst to you, he already made his decision after yesterday’s events. You and Shinsou played with the kitten all night long, laughing as she eagerly swatted a piece of yarn dangling mid-air. Once the mini tigress tired herself out, Shinsou tucked her into her make-shift bed.

Your smile brings him back to the present, “We still need a name for our little girl.”

“How about Emi?”

“Emi…” You test out the name and your eyes sparkle, “It’s perfect!”

Shinsou wraps an arm around your waist and fondly looks at his new child while grinning, “Welcome to the family, Emi.”

She is indeed a beautiful blessing.

Which prompt will be crossed off next? Who knows, depends on what my brain comes up with lmao. 

As always, thank you for reading! 

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

[blu-joons]

The Fans Find Out About Your Relationship ~ Jeon Jungkook

Stepping onto the set of the interview, the two of you felt confident. You kept your distance, like you always did in public, but by the looks in your eyes, it was obvious to everyone that something had made the two of you very happy.

“Remember what we said,” Kook whispered into your ear, as he helped you step up onto the stage, “we’ll be alright.”

The interviewer shook both your hands, offering you both a seat on the sofa whilst he sat down in a big armchair, on the other side of a large television screen.

Any interview you did was a nervous time, you hated the spotlights, the pressure, as well as the intensity. Yet, now you were having to do an interview with your boyfriend right by your side, only no one else in the world knew that.

“We’ve been receiving lots of lovely messages about you guys coming on, the fans are all desperate to hear about the song you’ve written together,” she smiled, making you feel at ease.

The two of you had met nearly a year ago, when the idea was first brought about that the two of you could collaborate. As soon as you met Jungkook, you knew you could be onto something special, you just didn’t realise how special.

“It’s been a long process, but we’re excited to release it,” Jungkook responded, glancing across at you with a sparkle in his eye.

“That’s a great response, save that for the actual interview.”

Around him, you just felt at ease, whilst your heart was racing, you knew things were going to be just fine. It was the best thing he’d done, when times got stressful, Jungkook was always there just to relax you.

He knew how nervous you were for the interview, the last thing you needed was for things to get out of control, during scary times, you often said the wrong thing or did something wrong.

“A few of your fans have commented mentioning on the chemistry between you both. Naturally, I’m sure you’ve spent a lot of time together recently, but are the two of you just friends, or can we expect anything more?”

It was the inevitable question that the two of you were expecting to come. The previous night the two of you had worked together to create the perfect responses, as you looked to Jungkook for help.

“I’ve had an amazing time getting to know Y/N, she’s amazing, but we’re just friends.”

In the audience you could hear the groans of the audience, as you tried to hide the smug smile you could feel forming on your face.

“I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would love to have what Y/N hasn’t taken up.”

The rest of the interview went perfectly. Jungkook took control, like he usually did, whilst making sure he gave you the opportunity to speak when you wanted to.

You couldn’t have headed backstage quick enough, with Jungkook following behind you, heading back into your own space, where no one would be around.

“That felt like it went well,” you commented.

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone suspected a thing.”

You smiled in relief, sitting down in a chair, with Kook siting beside you, resting a hand on your thigh. He could tell how relieved you were, as you threw your head back, letting go of a big sigh of relief.

From your jacket, you pulled out your phone, turning it back on to see several notifications, with one standing out. Your interview was trending number one in the world.

“Strange.”

“Everything alright?” Jungkook asked, glancing over at you as you leaned forward, quickly opening the notification.

You didn’t say a word, scrolling through until you saw what had brought so much attention to the interview, clicking on an attachment to find two screenshots from your interview. One showing the heart on Jungkook’s wrist, the other showing the heart on your hip, where you’d stood up at the end of the interview.

“Damn.”

Your silence concerned Jungkook, as he moved you to the side so he could look at your phone. His eyes widened, just as you turned to look at him, instantly panicking.

“We can fix this, it’s alright.”

He knew you’d be worried, keeping your relationship secret meant a huge deal to the two of you, you wanted to make the song was a success first, and then focus on love.

The tattoos were a little something you both wanted to do when you first started dating, not just as a symbol of your relationship, but of the song too. You’d even got to the tattoo parlour on separate days so no one would get suspicious of you.

“What are we going to do?” You sighed, feeling Jungkook’s warm hand cup the side of your face. “How are we going to get out of this one?”

His shoulders shrugged, there wasn’t really a way out for the two of you. “I think we come clean, these photos aren’t going to disappear, and we can’t dodge rumours and questions now. It’s all the evidence fans probably need; a heart says a lot.”

He pulled you into his chest, running his hands along your back. It wasn’t the end of the world, you just hoped you’d have a bit of time to finish the song before you moved on to the next stage of your relationship.

“How are we going to go about it?” You asked, feeling his lips press to your cheek sweetly.

“Let me handle it,” he spoke, taking control of the situation like he always did. He wanted to protect you at all costs, whatever it took. He wanted the fans to be happy for him, and support the two of you, and your music still.

You were terrified, but as you watched him pull his phone out, and begin typing out a statement, you began to feel a bit more confident. Everything you’d been thinking, Jungkook put into words. He knew how you were feeling, placing it online perfectly.

His statement addressed everything, all the bits everyone needed to know. Parts of your relationship you wanted to keep quiet, which Jungkook understood.

“Before I press send, I want to make sure this is what you want Y/N. I feel like we’re backed into a corner, but we can think this through properly before I post it.”

“No, you need to post it before things get out of hand. I just hope people are happy for us.”

He smiled softly, cupping your face once more, giggling your nerves away, trying to make you feel a bit better. “Everyone will be happy for us; they have no reason not to be.”

“Who’d have thought that both of us would end up showing our tattoos? I thought I was careful; I didn’t think anyone would see me.”

“There’s no point worrying about it now, maybe this is a blessing in disguise. At least it’s one less thing for us to worry about, and if it works out well for the music, this can’t be a bad thing, surely?”

You sighed, nodding your head slowly. “I guess this might not be too bad a thing.”

“We’re going to be alright, I promise,” he smiled.

“I know, we’ll be just fine.”

---

Masterlist

[softyoongiionly]

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Six

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: College Au, Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, some moderate angst (later), smut (later later),  slow-ish? burn

Word Count: 5.1K

A/N: I’m literally on fire after writing this chapter lol. I hope you like it!😊

Warnings for this Chapter: mentions of fear, anxiety, sadness, some angst aka Jimin is an insecure boy who is unaware that he is literaly heaven on earth, swearing, suggestive situations/concepts, if you squint really hard you can see the beginnings of smut.

Warnings for the Fic: mentions characters confronting their fears, characters in uncomfortable situations, emotional moments between characters, mentions of bad parenting, explicit language throughout the fic, moderate angst, and very explicit smut later in the story.

Chapter 6: Doubt and Shadow Demons

You’re lying on your bed in one of your many baggy t-shirts, smiling like an idiot at your phone. Jimin had sent you screenshots of what he believed to be Yoongi’s twitter. If Jimin wasn’t aiming to be a dancer, you would have suggested a career as a private investigator because,  he could literally find anyone. You hadn’t asked Jimin to go looking for more information on Yoongi but, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested. His Twitter was mostly black, no bio and, no location but, the avatar was a picture of Yoongi wearing headphones, his newly blonde hair disheveled as he smiled at the camera. He really had no business being that cute. ‘@agustd93’ was his handle and you furrowed your brows in confusion as you tried to decipher what it could mean.  Yoongi didn’t seem to tweet much, he just retweeted a lot of music equipment accounts however, there were a few scattered tweets here and there that made you laugh.

“Roommates are drunk, again. They can’t hold their alcohol for shit.”

“Update: Drunk Hobi is obsessed with my cheeks and, I swear if he pinches them one more time, I’m going to cut his hands off.”

“Another Update: Joon just started crying after explaining to me that, “we are all just little flowers in the garden of life, trying to find our bees.” What the fuck does that even mean?”

You giggle, shaking your head, your thumb scrolling down to search for more tweets. There were more scattered between retweets of what you assumed to be the latest music equipment as Yoongi quoted some of the them with captions like ‘Dream Studio’ and ‘if only I wasn’t broke.’ You kept scrolling before coming across a tweet that made your stomach flutter.

‘Where? Everywhere.’

Fuck. He tweeted that last night. After you and Yoongi got off the Ferris Wheel, you actually ended up having a pretty decent time. The two of you got dinner at the park and wrote your experiences down in your research journals. Yoongi acted like the conversation on the Ferris Wheel never happened but, he seemed to warm up to you more and more as the night progressed. But still, nothing flirty occurred between the two of you and, Yoongi was very careful not to get too close to you. The whole thing was very confusing, one minute, Yoongi’s admitting that he would kiss you ‘everywhere, if you let him’ and, the next minute he’s treating you like he normally did. This tweet was sent at 11:30 which would have been around the time he got back to his place. Maybe it wasn’t about you, Yoongi seemed to have a habit of being vague and, he easily could have been talking about something else but, none the less, it made your heart skip a beat.

Did you like Yoongi? More importantly, did it matter? You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of your complicated thoughts as you rolled out of bed. Marzipan throws a complaint your way as you walk past her lounging at the end of the mattress. Normally, you would be out at your favorite crepe café gossiping with Jimin over some iced coffee but, Jimin had texted you the night before saying that his showcase rehearsal was running late and he didn’t think he’d get any sleep if he met up with you. You had of course met this with an abundance of understanding as you knew better than anyone how hard Jimin had been working at his showcase routine. So, instead of meeting up with your best friend, you planned on working on your final paper for your International Relations course. You had been working on it all semester and, felt accomplished that for once, you didn’t procrastinate. Green tea was essential for today’s writing session so; you brewed a decent sized pot before, continuing your paper. Marzipan eventually made her way out into your living room, opting to sprawl out on the couch, claiming her space as usual.

After writing for some time, you glance at the clock at the bottom of your laptop and your eyes widen. Shit. You had been writing for 4 hours. How was it possible that much time had passed? You had gotten a lot done, adding an additional 6-7 pages to the giant that was your final paper. Just after leaning back in your chair and stretching your limbs, your phone lights up with a text message.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): I miss the squad tho.

You giggle at the message, your heart warming as you reply.

BROS 4 LYFE: me too tho :/

BROS 4 LYFE (Taehyung): me 3 tho :/ :/

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): MY BABIES :( i miss u guys.

A hint of sadness plucks at your chest as you read the messages being sent in by your friends. You had made new friends in school and, college had been an overall fun time but, you had to admit that you never stopped missing having all three of your bestfriends in one place. The past four years hadn’t been the same without them and you couldn’t wait til the four of you graduated so, that you could finally have your group back together again. Jungkook had been drafted to play pro ball on a minor league team in your current city and, Taehyung had made the decision earlier in the semester to pursue his masters in art history at the school you and Jimin were currently attending. This meant that in a few short weeks, everything would back to normal for a little while.

BROS 4 LYFE: only a few more weeks my dudes, we got this.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook) stay on that grind squad, college grad hours are about to be open.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): kookie and tae, will you be here for my showcase? It’s two weeks before graduation.

BROS 4 LYFE (Taehyung): duh. We wouldn’t miss it for the world Jiminie.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): yea we would never miss a chance to see the world’s shortest ballerina.

Your eyes widen as you laugh, already imagining Jimin igniting in fury when he reads the message. His reply comes before you are able to chime in.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): YAH! IM NOT A BALLERINA!

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): I AM A CONTEMPORARY DANCER.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): THE CHAMPION CONTEMPORARY DANCER

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): THREE YEARS RUNNING THANKYOUVERYMUCH

At this point you’re in a full blown laughing fit, shaking your head as your fiery best friend pops off in the chat.

BROS 4 LYFE:  go best friend, that’s my best friend.

BROS 4 LYFE (Taehyung): let the record show that Kookie bought 12 of the limited edition Jimin shirts that your school sold after he won the championships.

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULDN’T TELL

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): >:)

BROS 4 LYFE (Jimin): love u kookie

BROS 4 LYFE (Jungkook): …love u too…

The responses eventually dwindle down and, you decide to hop in the shower to tend to the mop of hair that was growing slightly greasy on your head. Afterwards, you throw on a cozy sweatshirt and your favorite pair of fuzzy pajama shorts and, settle on the couch to watch some Netflix. You hadn’t had a night in to yourself in a long time and, it felt amazing to be able to sit around and, do nothing.  Marzipan made her way up your body before, snuggling up in the free space between you and the edge of the couch. As your fingers absentmindedly stroke her fur, you feel your lids becoming heavier and heavier and, finally, you drift off into a much needed nap.

Needless to say, the nap turned into you passing out around 7:30 and, sleeping through the night until, finally, you awake to the ethereal sound of the never-ending city construction. You grumble as you pull the covers over your head to drown out the noise causing Marzipan, who clearly hadn’t left her spot all night, to flee from the couch.  Checking your phone, you noticed a few messages from your group-chat and a snapchat or two from some of your other friends. After responding to the majority of your missed messages, you drag yourself off of the couch and into the kitchen to make some coffee. The microwave displayed the current time: 7:45am; an unholy time to be awake on a Saturday morning. The coffee was finishing up before a loud knock at your door caused you to jump out of your skin. Who the hell was at your house at 7:45 in the morning? You gingerly made your way to the door, hoping that it was just someone from maintenance. Opening the door, you nearly scream as a tuft of pink hair practically collapses into your arms. It was Jimin and, he was crying.

“Jimin, babe, what’s wrong?” You hold him to you, your eyes wide with concern as you usher him into your apartment.

“I can’t do it y/n, I can’t do anything right.” He cries into your t-shirt, his hands clutching you as if you’re about to slip away.

You rub his back, maneuvering you both onto your couch, Jimin clinging to you all the while.

“Hey, hey, that’s not true at all.” You murmur soothingly. “Jimin, what brought this on? Did something happen?”

Jimin, still crying, nods, as the tears stream down his puffy cheeks.

“I’ve been rehearsing for…for 36 hours…and I ca…can’t….do it…I can’t get it right. I ke…keep messing up. I’m n…not getting it…they’re…they’re going to drop me from the showcase if I can’t do it….they…they will…” At this point, your heart is broken, your usually smiley best friend is completely shattered, sobbing, into your arms. You hadn’t seen him like this since he had his first serious breakup sophomore year and, even that couldn’t compare to what you saw before you.

“Shh…minnie…it’s ok, it’s ok, I got you.” You gingerly tilt his swollen face towards yours, your eyes holding an immense amount of emotion as you gaze into his. “Listen to me ok? You can’t rehearse like that, you’re going to burn out and, get hurt. You have to rest. You’ve been practicing non-stop for the entire semester. You could do that routine in your sleep babe. The only reason you probably messed up is because you are exhausting yourself.”

Before you can even finish, Jimin’s eyes well up with tears once again as he shakes his head.

“No…no…you don’t understand…y/n…the coaches came to watch me last night and, I fell…I fell and they…they said that they were disappointed with my progress…and that I need to do better…so…I had to stay to re…rehearse…cause I failed. I failed y/n, I failed.” Jimin bursts into another fit of sobs as he clutches you tighter and, you actually have to hold back the tears that are pricking the corners of your own eyes.

“Dancers fall all the time Jiminie, it’s ok, you had been rehearsing all day. Every free moment you have, you spend in the studio practicing. I know it must have been so hard to fall in front of your coaches but, hey,” You tilt his face to you once more before he can hide away in your arm again. “You are Park fucking Jimin. You are the youngest collegiate dancer to win the national showcase and, the ONLY dancer to win it three years in a row. Dancing is like breathing to you. Audiences are mesmerized as soon as you step on the stage. You did not fail. You are exhausted. You can’t work yourself like this or, there won’t be a Park Jimin to win the showcase four years in a row.” As your words tumble out of your mouth, Jimin begins to calm down, still sniffling lightly, he hugs you again, his normally sparkling eyes, heavy with exhaustion.

“I’m so scared…y/n…there’s so much pressure and, I don’t think I’ll be able to bear it if I disappoint anyone.” You place a chaste kiss to the top of his bubblegum hair as you nod.

“It’s ok to be afraid, this is something you really want and, when we really want something, the thought of failing can be crippling but, you have worked so unbelievably hard.  No one deserves this more than you do. Try and have a little faith in yourself ok? There is nothing you can’t achieve. You have something so magical within you.  Working hard is good but, everyone has their limit and, if you keep pushing yourself like this, you won’t be healthy enough to achieve all of the amazing things I know you are capable of.” Your voice has dropped to an even lower volume as you continue rubbing Jimin’s back. He is looking up at you with intense focus but, you can tell he is on the verge of crashing.

“You promise? You promise you believe I can do this?” He whispers and, your heart shatters in pieces that someone whom you care so deeply for, is in so much pain.

“I don’t just believe Jimin, I know.” You whisper back before jerking your head to the other end of the couch. “Can you please try and sleep for me? When you wake up, we can go somewhere, or we can stay in,its up to you. Just try and rest of a while.” At your request, Jimin lets out a yawn, his lips pressing to your shoulder once more before he flops back onto the couch, still sniffling lightly.

You help him out of his shoes and his coat before grabbing a blanket and, literally tucking him in.

“Thank you y/n.” Jimin whispers, practically half asleep, his hand holding yours lightly.

“You don’t have to thank me, that’s what best friends are for. I’ve cried on your couch a few times too, remember.” You smile fondly as Jimin lets out a twinkling giggle, happy to see that he’s feeling somewhat better.

“I love you.” He whispers, his eyes beginning to shut.

You squeeze his hand lightly before replying.

“I love you too Jimin.”

Jimin drifts off a few moments later, his light snores filling your living room. Your heart feels achy as you reply the last few moments over in your head. You knew your words wouldn’t be enough to completely take away Jimin’s uncertainty but, you were so grateful that he came to you instead of suffering in silence. Jimin had a history of feeling this way right before a showcase. He had done something similar to this your freshman year before, winning and subsequently making history. It absolutely devastated you to see him hurting but, you meant everything you said. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Jimin was going to go far in life; you just hoped one day, he could see it for himself.

—————————————————————————————————-

“The dark and the ocean….I think maybe it’s time that we start tackling our fears one by one, what do you think?” You look over at Yoongi, who nods from behind his phone.

“Yeah, I think so too. I don’t know how we’d combine the dark and the ocean anyway.” His voice was slightly scratchier than normal but, when you had asked if he was sick, he told you that he had lost his voice at a concert he went to the night prior. For whatever reason, you didn’t believe him but, rather than prying, you opted to enjoy the sound of Yoongi’s raspy voice becoming even raspier.

“If we did, it would be terrifying and, I would probably die.” You state bluntly, causing Yoongi to scoff in disbelief, shaking his head at you.

“You’re so dramatic.” He chastises, smirking lightly, tapping away at his phone. You shrug, not bothering to disagree with him as you doodle on the corner of your paper. “Are you comfortable confronting this fear directly? I don’t know how you would imagine it, unless, you just imagine yourself in a dark room.”

The shudder that passes through your body was completely involuntary and, Yoongi notices it.

“You don’t have to, we can think of something else.” He assures, his almond shaped eyes, wrinkled slightly in concern. You shook your head insistently, putting on a brave face.

“No, its ok…I can do it. I won’t be alone so, it will be a little easier.” You force smile onto your mouth but, Yoongi isn’t buying it. Thankfully, he decides to accept your statement anyway.

“Does tonight work for you? I have a free Tuesday for once so, I figured we could do yours today and mine on Thursday.” Yoongi’s suggests, his demeanor returning to normal. You nod, leaning back in your chair, attempting to look casual but, your heart jumped slightly in your chest.

“Yeah, that’s fine, what time?” You needed to know how much time you had to straighten up because, you definitely left dirty dishes in the sink and, you were quite certain that you dropped a pair or two of clean underwear whilst running late this morning.

“Well, it doesn’t get dark until 7:30-8 so, maybe around then?” Yoongi cocks his head slightly, his eyes sleepy as usual. You had never had such a strong urge to tuck someone into bed and, kiss their forehead until you met Min Yoongi. That boy needs more sleep.

“I’m good with that yeah. Are we eating together or do you want to eat before you come?”

“I’ll bring something, I have a lot to make up for since somebody, decided to buy our tickets last week.” He gives you a pointed look, disapproval gracing his features. You laugh, shrugging shamelessly, looking up at him.

“I guess you better bring something good then.” You insist, smiling, nudging his desk with your foot.

————————————————————————————————–

It was that very conversation that led you to where you were now:  belly full of That’s Amore’s pasta, apartment tidied up, and Yoongi glancing over at you curiously.

“What?” You giggle lightly, confused at his intense gaze before, he nods over to you.

“Why are you afraid of the dark?” He murmurs, his tone cautious but curious.

You bite your lip, as you feel your body grow slightly uncomfortable. Meeting Yoongi’s gaze, you attempt to sound as brave as possible before, answering his question.

“I…used to have really bad nightmares as a kid. I had them every night for almost two years.” You admit, your eyes moving to stare at the couch instead of continuing to look at Yoongi. “My parents finally took me to a doctor and they told them that I would eventually just grow out of it. They gave me something to help me sleep through the night and, over time, the dreams finally stopped but, I slept with my light on until I was like 14.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood, not really enjoying the serious tone of the conversation.

Yoongi nods, regarding you earnestly from the other end of the couch.

“I’m sorry.” He says softly and, you can tell that he means it. You smile over at him, brushing it off.

“No, its ok, it happened a long time ago. I’m just still not a huge fan of the dark.” You explain, finally meeting his gaze again.

“You don’t have to do this, you can just keep talking about it…I don’t want you to feel afraid.” He insists, his tone firm and certain.

You nod, your smile growing more genuine.

“I can do it. I think it will be good for me and, like I said, I won’t be alone so, I don’t think it will be too bad.” You’re lying. The dark terrified you but, logically, you understood that there was nothing dangerous about it. You know you can do this.

Yoongi nods but, you can tell that he’s uneasy, his movements cautious and hesitant as he looks around your apartment.

“Ok, do you want to start slow? We could just turn off the lights first; the streetlights shouldn’t make it too dark.” He assures you, nodding toward the window but, you shake your head at his suggestion.

“No, I think it’s better if we just do everything now. I think prolonging it will just make me more nervous.” Your voice is growing smaller and, once you catch that, you sit up straighter.  As if, sitting up straighter would lessen the fear you felt. “Let’s do this.”

Yoongi nods and the two of you move to start closing the curtains and turning off the few lamps that you have on in your apartment. You both stand on opposite ends of your living room as Yoongi’s hand hovers over the main light.

“Are you ready?” He calls softly, his face littered with concern.

You nod, smiling tightly, bracing yourself for the darkness.

“You have to protect me if a shadow demon tries to eat me!” You insist, giggling, trying to lessen the tension as Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“There’s no such thing as shadow demons.” He counters, smirking before, he nods anyway. “But, yeah, I guess I’ll protect you if that happens.”

Your heart is picking up its pace in your chest as you attempt to pull a deep breath from your nose.

Yoongi looks at you pointedly and, before another question can pass his lips, you nod to the light.

“Go ahead. I’m good.” You assure him, putting on the bravest voice you can find.

There’s a click and then, darkness envelops your apartment. You could never have imagined that your apartment could get to this level of darkness. The room was pitch black, you held your hand out in front of your face and you saw nothing but a faint blob.

“Are you ok?” Yoongi calls softly from the other end of the room.

Another shaky breath passes your lips as you attempt to calm yourself.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m ok.” You assure him but, even you could tell that your tone wasn’t convincing. There’s a shuffling on the other end of the room that causes you to jump out of your skin. “What was that?”

“It’s just me; I’m trying to find my way to the couch.” Yoongi’s voice calms you and, you curse yourself for being so obviously afraid.

“Yeah, I should probably do that too. I don’t want to just stand here…vulnerable…where literally anything can attack me if it wanted to.” You muse casually and, this causes Yoongi to finally break out in his rickety laughter.

“Nothing is going to attack you, just come here and, be careful not to trip over anything. That’s the only real danger you need to worry about.” Yoongi’s voice is practically a whisper and, you use it to guide yourself to your sofa. You finally feel the familiar fabric and make your way around the arm of the couch before, tucking your body into one of the cushions. The heartbeat in your chest hasn’t lessened its pounding but, you feel slightly better that you’re not doing this alone.

“I made it.” You whisper but, Yoongi could already feel you sit down at the opposite end of the couch.

“How are you feeling?” Yoongi whispers back to you and, you feel yourself relaxing slightly at the sound of his voice. He really should be doing ASMR in his free time. Your mouth opens to lie again but, you end up sighing in defeat.

“I’m scared.” It’s the first time either of you have uttered this phrase since beginning your project and, you grow uneasy as you wait for his response.

“That’s ok.” He assures and then he falls silent for a moment. “I know it’s difficult for you. We can stop whenever you want.”

“I’m ok right now; my eyes are starting to adjust.”

Another moment of silence passes between the two of you and, you feel a familiar thickness in the air that seems to occur a lot when you and Yoongi are alone. You close your eyes for a moment, stifling your desire to mention it to him. He had made it very clear on the Ferris Wheel that he wasn’t interested in being with you that way… ‘right now.’

“You can…move closer to me, if you need to. I’m not sure if that will help but, you can try. I don’t mind.” Yoongi whispers and, his offer catches you completely off guard. Should you move closer to him?

Silently, you scoot your body down the length of the couch until you feel your shins meet Yoongi’s feet. He must have been sitting cross-legged on the couch and, now that you’re closer to him, you can make out his posture. He’s sitting with his legs crossed, his body turned to face the direction you were sitting, while his hands rested in his lap.

“Thank you.” You whisper, and you can sort of make out the faint smile ( :] ) on his lips.

“Is it any better?”

“Yeah, it is, actually, thanks.” You repeat your gratitude and you finally start to feel the anxiety subsiding from your chest. Yoongi was warm and, he smelt like berries and the ocean? An odd yet tantalizing combination that, in all honesty, made your stomach tighten. His hands are adorned with a few rings and your eyes squint in curiosity as you try to make out what they look like; regretting that you hadn’t checked them out when the lights were on.

“What are you trying to look at?” Yoongi’s whisper causes you to smile as  you realize that his eyes were also adjusted to the darkness and, he was probably wondering why you were staring intently at his lap.

“Your rings.” You giggle, your head jerking their direction. At your answer, Yoongi’s fingers flutter lightly in response, his head turning down to look at them.

“Oh, yeah, I don’t wear these a lot but, my roommate Namjoon got them for me and, started giving me shit for not liking them. So, I made a point to wear them more.” He explains his tone one of fondness and annoyance. Another laugh passes your lips as you nod in understanding.

“They look nice. Namjoon has good taste.” You compliment, feeling far more comfortable.

“Yeah, he’s alright, I guess.” Yoongi jests but, you know he doesn’t mean what he says, always hiding behind a snarky comment. Before you can speak again, Yoongi holds one of his hands out to you. “You can look at them if you want.”

Your heart stalls a moment as you look at Yoongi’s out stretched hand. The hand that had been on your own lap comes up to bring Yoongi’s closer to your view. The rings were actually beautiful and, you were thankful that the tiniest amount of light had escaped through the curtains so you could properly see them. There were four of them each covered in silver, the engravings depicting the four elements: Earth, fire, water, and air. You smile as your fingers gently examine Yoongi’s rings (hand). His hands were one of your favorite things about him. They were nearly double the size of your own, blue and green veins pushed slightly against the surface, fingernails bitten out of what you could assume as nervousness.  There is a light increase in your heart rate as you continue to examine Yoongi’s hand and, if he had noticed that you stopped looking at his rings, he wasn’t showing it. You tilt his hand up so, its perpendicular to your own, your fingertips only reaching the middle of his fingers, as you place your palm against his hand.

“Your hand is small.” Yoongi whispers but, this time, you detect a different tone from him that you can’t say you’ve ever heard before.

A small smile graces your mouth as you nod.

“Against yours it is.” The whisper that leaves your lips is almost in audible, your eyes find Yoongi’s and, you find him staring back at you, the faint streetlight illuminating his face. The two of you stare at each other as you feel Yoongi’s fingers lace with your own. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you lick your lips in attempt to compensate for the dryness in your mouth. Without warning, the two of you are leaning towards each other, your shaky breathing intertwining momentarily before, your lips press together. Yoongi audibly lets out a sigh of what literally sounds like relief as he mold his lips against yours. You rise up on your knees lightly, in an attempt to get closer to him, your free hand coming up to gently touch his face. The butterflies that had been taunting you for the past month erupt in your stomach, your heart racketing against your sternum. Yoongi’s hand that was interlaced with yours slips out of your grip and, settles on your waist instead, pulling you into his body. Your lips are beginning to move against one another and, you actually feel Yoongi’s heartbeat rattling against your hand. The thought of you having that effect on him, makes you clench between your thighs. Your body moves to make its way into his lap but, before you make it there, Yoongi is slowly pulling away. He seems reluctant to stop, his swollen lips still pecking against yours as he presses his forehead to your own.

“I don’t want to stop but, I think…”His breathing is too ragged for him to speak properly, and you press your lips to his cheek in an attempt to sooth him, even though, your breathing is just as bad. “We….should slow down….”

You nod in agreement but, relish in the fact that Yoongi is still holding you close to him, your body leaning into his chest.

“You’re right.” You whisper in return, your breath just as shaky as Yoongi maneuvers you so, that you’re tucked into the side of his body. Your hand rests on his chest and you smile as you feel his heart pummeling against the palm of your hand. The two of you lay there for a moment in complete silence, Yoongi’s fingers play with your own  as you wait for the other to say something.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Yoongi who breaks the silence, his raspy whisper penetrating the darkness around you.

“Are you still scared?” He whispers softly, his eyes finding yours.

You look up towards him, a soft smile on your lips.

“No.”

Yoongi smiles back at you and, you can’t help but notice how shy he’s being, his eyes softer than you have ever seen before.

“Good.”

Maybe, the dark wasn’t so bad after all.

[m-is-for-mungo]

So, I think it's time.

Personal time, scroll past if you aren't interested. I wish I could say I made any of this up.

TW: emotional, verbal, and sexual abuse, homelessness, depression, incest, dog death

Some of y'all may remember that I moved to Montana and basically kept the blog updated with my journey. Some of my mutuals know why I moved. But I'm ready to talk about it.

I moved to Pennsylvania in 2016 to live with my then fiance. I was pressured into moving much sooner than I wanted, to a place me and him had never discussed prior to his dad getting him a state job in Mansfield, Pennsylvania. I had to drop out of college, I left all my friends and family. I gave up musical theatre, and missed out on a big part that had my name on it because my fiance and his mother had been badgering me and pressuring me to move early.

So I did.

One memory that is burned into my mind is my mom standing in my grandmother's kitchen asking me one last time if I was sure I wanted to do this, and that it wasn't too late for us to just drive back home. I wish I had gone home.

But I drove alone to an apartment I had never seen before. While I was in those four walls, I was subjected to verbal abuse, emotional abuse and neglect, the deepest bout of depression I had ever had and am still recovering from, and that was just from my fiance. That doesn't include the abuse from his mother, the constant "You aren't good enough for my son," "when are you giving us grandchildren, we were your age when we had [ex-fiance]." I was 22. He was 24. We were barely making it with us two and a dog, and they expected me to get pregnant and have a grandchild for them.

This went on for a year, in person. We had been on the bad end of the relationship before I ever moved but I thought it would fix things. I threatened to leave multiple times, but how could I leave with not enough money to get home, care for my dog on the trip, fuck myself I could make it but I was worried for her. So I stayed.

I stayed even though I was being abused. Emotionally, verbally, and sexually. I overheard him every night on the PS4 talking to his friends how much of a cunt I was, if sex hurt, it wasn't his problem, how I don't do anything for him.

I cooked, I cleaned, I took care of him. I wasn't his partner, i was his second mother.

A year and some change in, I finally had it. I sat him down and I gave him his ring back and I told him I could no longer be with him. I would start working and save up money and get out, but until then, he had to work with me and be a roommate and just make the best of it.

A month later, he lost his job and began to pull unemployment. He would stay up nights on end, playing games with his friends until he would pass out where he laid, stay there for 16-20 hours, wake up, and repeat. During this time, I reached 245 pounds because I was emotionally eating and no longer cared for myself.

He and I spoke briefly about him considering moving back with his parents, as during this time, my parents sold the house in Mississippi and moved to Montana. It was no longer an easy drive for me to leave. 2 days of travel turned into 4. He said he would think about it. He left to see his parents for Christmas of 2017. On January 2nd, 2018, I got a message from him that he would be coming up on the 4th to get his stuff.

He had not involved me in any decisions.

I had $1.14 in my account.

I had no phone as he hadn't bothered to pay any bills for months.

I had no food.

My tires were going bad in my car.

And I had a sick dog.

That night, or early in the morning of the 3rd, my sweet Lily died. She had started to have seizures and I had nothing to help her. I couldn't get a hold of my ex to have him call an emergency vet. My mom couldn't get a hold of him, and she did her best for being across the country. I still hear Lily's last breath in my head. I remember the scream ripping through my chest and the absolute despair I felt.

And all he had to say to me was "I knew she was sick but I didn't do anything about it."

So I cut contact with him. I paid 4 and 5 months backed bills on a part time minimum wage job, leaving me pennies to live off of. My parents did the best they could, they paid my rent so I could still have a roof.

I went months alone. I lost 40 pounds that first month he was gone. Whether it was not eating, not eating the shitty junk food he ordered every night, or the stress, I don't know why I lost so much so fast.

And then my ex boyfriend came into the picture. I had worked with him for months at goodwill. Harmless flirting, he had a girlfriend after all. Just a joke here or there, and then we'd get back to our tasks. Until one day he came in, looking rough as hell, and only said "I don't have a girlfriend anymore."

So I reached out to him. He had been cheated on once again by the girl, and was hurting a lot more than he was showing. So I gave him a hand up. I didn't want to see him sad. And as we talked, he got deeper and deeper and he cried. I offered him a place to stay, since he had nowhere that was safe. And we started dating.

My lease would be up by the end of this month, and so we worked and worked on my place, we both quit goodwill and got much better jobs. He was able to start his much sooner than I did. Things were honestly looking up. He reconnected with his dad, who offered us a home. So slowly, we moved my stuff over there.

And then it happened.

On a Tuesday night in May, we moved the last bit of my stuff to his dad's. We had a great night, and he asked me if I regretted anything. I told him I didn't.

Wednesday morning, we had a small spat and he left. Walked back to his ex girlfriend and reconciled.

Thursday, my dad flew out and we got my affairs in order.

Friday, I no longer had a place that I could say I lived. My parents shelled over money to get a uhaul and my ex' s dad was a good man who took the day off so I could get my stuff, and I wrangled up some friends to help me pack the uhaul. Me and his dad were talking when his phone, my phone, and his step mothers phone all went off at the same time. His aunt had been keeping an eye on the situation and sent out a screenshot of his Facebook where he announced that he asked his ex to marry him.

They're step siblings.

By Sunday morning, they were married and me and my dad were in Illinois.

And the rest has been... blessedly boring since I've moved to Montana. I stayed with my parents for two months. I got my head on straight and then moved an hour away and have been providing for myself. I met some great friends, both irl and online. I've met an incredible guy, Matt, or as Oz calls him, Rangar the Red.

I'm happy. I don't feel the need to run away to Tumblr for an escape nearly as much as I did when I originally made this blog. It has finally moved into a "I'm doing this because I enjoy this community and content", not "I spend my every waking moment on Tumblr because if I stay in reality too long, it'll be the end of me."

And I know this was long, and I promise, I left a lot out, but I needed to get it out. I've talked about it here and there to friends, but it's finally become my story to tell and I'm at peace with what I have left in the past.

I appreciate every single one of y'all. For a while, this blog was my only purpose. And each and every one of y'all were my reason to get up for another day and provide what little content I had to share.

I will never be able to properly convey how much you all mean to me, but I can keep trying.

[allen-walkers]

Daiquiris & Margaritas

Title: Daiquiris & Margaritas

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Shimizu Kiyoko/Yachi Hitoka.

Rating: T.

Word Count: 5.8 k.

Summary:  "The lights of the club shine on her skin, and Yachi decides that Kiyoko looks stunning in every color."

Yachi and Kiyoko meet again after four years at the Karasuno Volleyball Team reunion. Maybe a nightclub is not the most romantic way to reunite with your high school crush, but that doesn't stop their feelings from bubbling to the surface.

And maybe the shiny lights and loud music of the club, along with the sweet taste of rum and tequila, are not that bad after all.

[Read it on AO3]

    “A reunion?”

    Yachi looks up from her desk, which is completely covered with sheets of paper and art supplies, to give Hinata an inquiring look. He nods at Yachi from her bed, where he is currently lying, scrolling through his phone.

    “A four-year reunion with Suga-san and the others. Look!”

    Without so much as a warning, Hinata carelessly throws his phone at her. Yachi yelps, and fumbles to catch it, nearly dropping it twice before it is finally secure inside her hands.

    “Geez, Shouyou, you could’ve just sent me a screenshot!” Hinata merely laughs at her complaint, and Yachi glares shortly at him before turning her attention to the phone screen. She inspects the message Hinata received from Suga, and her brows furrow in surprise. “It’s at a bar?”

    “A club!”

    Yachi purses her lips, and shoots Hinata a disgruntled look.

    “I don’t like clubs…”

    “You’ve never even been to a club before!” Hinata exclaims, sitting up on the bed.

    “Yeah, but I already know that I’m not gonna like it!” Yachi leans forward on the chair to hand Hinata his phone, and then returns her attention to the drawing she had been working on. “Loud music, bright lights, lots of people-”

    “Drunk people,” Hinata corrects her, flopping back on the ‒frankly alarming‒ cushion collection that Yachi keeps on her bed.

    “Lots of drunk people…” Yachi mock-shudders, and turns her head to give Hinata a horrified look from over her shoulder. “It is everything I hate, all in one place!”

    “God, Yachi, you’re like an old lady!” Hinata complains with a roll of his eyes. “First, I had to convince Kageyama, then Tsukishima, and now you! You don’t wanna see our old senpai?”

    “I do, but not at a club!”

    “Old lady,” Hinata mumbles dejectedly.

    Yachi sticks her tongue out at him, and returns to her work. Hinata stares at her back with a small frown, and heaves a dejected sigh. He really wants Yachi to go with him to the reunion, but convincing her will be hard unless he comes up with a good reason for them to go. Suddenly, as he scrolls through Suga’s texts, an idea strikes him.

    “Shimizu-san will be there.”

    Hinata knows that his plan has succeeded, when the sound of Yachi’s pencil scratching the paper stops almost immediately.

    “Is that so?” she says after a while. Hinata can tell that she is doing her best efforts to keep her voice as emotionless as possible. She is not succeeding, though.

    “Yup. Your unresolved high-school crush, Shimizu Kiyoko-san, will be at the reunion.” Hinata taps away on his phone with feigned disinterest, but he is aware of every single one of his roommate’s movements. She has stopped drawing, hanging on to his every word, and Hinata knows he has her in the palm of his hand. “It’s too bad you won’t be there. I’m sure she’s looking forward to seeing you after all these years.”

    Yachi is silent for a while, and although Hinata can’t see her face, he can clearly picture her expression in his mind. Three years of being roommates has left him with a vast knowledge of Yachi Hitoka’s person, to the point where he can accurately predict her reactions and responses to any given situation. Right now, as he impatiently taps his fingers on his phone, he already knows the next words that are going to come out of Yachi’s lips.

    “When is the reunion?”

    Hinata can no longer suppress a grin, and he has to bite his lip to stop himself form laughing out loud.

    “You’re so gay, Yachi.”

    Yachi turns around on her chair to glare at him, a light blush dusting her cheeks pink.

    “Sh-shut up and tell me the date already!”

֍֎֍֎֍

    They spend three hours picking out Yachi’s outfit, after the one she had planned during the whole week suddenly wasn’t appealing to her anymore. By the eight unsuccessful attempt to assemble an outfit for her, Hinata retorts to asking Yamaguchi to help him, both at finding an outfit that Yachi will like, and at calming her down before she melts to the floor. Every discarded dress and rejected pair of shoes only serves to increase Yachi’s anxious thoughts, and to decrease Hinata and Yamaguchi’s patience. They stay strong, though, grateful for the fact that they were already dressed themselves when they decided to embark in the adventure of helping Yachi Hitoka pick an outfit.

    By the time Kageyama and Tsukishima arrive at their apartment so they can all leave together, Yachi’s bedroom is an absolute mess, and Hinata and Yamaguchi look like they are ready to pass out. But Yachi is fully dressed, in what she has (finally) deemed an appropriate outfit for a night in the club: black skinny jeans, low-heeled ankle boots, and a loose, sleeveless grey top; AKA: the first outfit Hinata had put together for her. Much to Hinata and Yamaguchi’s relief, she has opted for doing her hair the usual way, and going makeup-free. The process of deciding eyeshadow colors is not one they were willing to participate in.

    “I’m sorry, I took too long to pick my clothes!” Yachi apologizes once they leave their apartment, headed to the encounter point Suga had arranged a couple days earlier.

    “It’s fine, Yacchan,” Yamaguchi reassures her. “You look really cute, and that’s what matters.”

    “Yeah, I’m sure Shimizu-san will be all over you tonight!” Hinata interjects before Yachi can say anything, and Tsukishima snorts loudly next to him.

    “Sh-Shouyou!” Yachi exclaims, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink.

    “So that’s how you convinced her to come?” Tsukishima asks, and Hinata wiggles his eyebrows at him in response. Tsukishima smirks, and nods his head. “Smart.”

    “Evil,” Kageyama and Yamaguchi say in unison, giving their boyfriends nearly identical looks of disapproval.

    “I hate it when you agree with Kageyama,” Tsukishima says with a look of disgust. Kageyama shoots him one of his nastiest glares, and flips him off. Tsukishima scoffs, and opens his mouth to continue teasing him, but Yamaguchi cuts him off.

    “Unbelievable, you’re already fighting! Can we have one peaceful night out?”

    Ignoring their friends’ banter, Hinata leans closer to Yachi, bumping their shoulders together.

    “Are you nervous?”

    Yachi flinches at the sudden proximity, way too caught up in her own thoughts to notice Hinata getting closer. She relaxes instantly when she sees Hinata’s smile of complicity, and heaves a small sigh.

    “How could you tell?”

    “Yachi, you are always nervous.”

    “Shut up, that’s not true,” Yachi mumbles with a small frown, and Hinata merely chuckles in response. Yachi sighs again, and turns her head to stare at the sidewalk ahead of her. “It’s just that… I haven’t seen her in so long. And so many things have changed, and I feel like I’m such a different person, you know?” Hinata nods silently, encouraging to go on. “And I can’t help but to think… What if she doesn’t like me anymore?”

    There is a small silence, and then, much to Yachi’s surprise, Hinata bursts out laughing.

    “Yachi, you never change!”

    “Wha-!? Why are you laughing!?”

    “There is no way that could happen,” Hinata explains once his laughter recedes. “Out of everyone in the club, you were the one Shimizu-san liked the most.”

    Yachi worries her bottom lip between her teeth, and gives him an unsure look.

    “You really think so?”

    “No doubt about it!” Hinata reassures her. Something ahead of them catches his eye, and he instantly breaks into a gigantic grin. “There they are!” he exclaims, pointing at the corner right in front of them, where a group of familiar figures are reunited. Hinata is already running off before Yachi can respond, waving his arm in big motions, and pulling Kageyama along with him. “Hey!”

    Suga is the first to turn around, already giving them one of his radiant smiles. Asahi, Daichi, and Kiyoko follow suit, warm smiles of their own spreading on their faces at the sight of their old underclassmen. Hinata and Kageyama rush to their encounter, and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi trail behind them, waving their hands. Yachi, however, remains frozen in place, as if she suddenly lost the ability to move.

    “Yacchan, what’s wrong?”

    Yamaguchi’s voice brings her back to earth. Yachi snaps her head to look at him, noticing that both him and Tsukishima have stopped walking, and are giving her concerned looks. Hinata and Kageyama have already arrived at the others’ side, and are currently being subjected to Suga’s affectionate punches.

    “Tadashi,” Yachi mumbles, her eyes wide and round, and her cheeks slightly flushed. “She’s even more beautiful than before.”

    Just then, Kiyoko turns her head, her eyes landing on Yachi’s face. When their gazes meet, the world seems to stop around them for a fleeting second. Yachi can feel her heart skipping a beat, her breath getting caught in her throat, her blood rushing to her cheeks, and oh, my god, she’s running towards me.

    Suddenly, Kiyoko collides against her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders in a tight hug. Yachi squeaks and tumbles backwards, holding onto Kiyoko’s arms to maintain her balance, and stop herself from falling to the ground.

    “Hitoka-chan!” Kiyoko exclaims, her voice filled with glee. “It’s been so long!”

    Yachi must be dreaming. She is sure of it. There is no other explanation for the fact that she is currently being hugged by her unresolved high-school crush, in the middle of the sidewalk, after more than four years have passed since the last time they saw each other. But there she is, and Kiyoko’s skin feels so warm, her voice is so soft, and her hair smells so good, that Yachi is sure that if she isn’t already dreaming, she will be after she passes out in three seconds flat.

    She eventually gathers enough courage to hesitantly wrap her arms around Kiyoko’s back. Kiyoko hugs her a little closer, and Yachi lets out a tiny whimper. She swallows hard, and breathes in deeply, willing herself to sound calm and collected.

    “Shimizu-san,” she squeaks out, inwardly cursing herself for sounding like a rubber duck. “It’s-it’s really good to see you!”

    Kiyoko pulls away, and Yachi instantly misses the gentle warmth of her body, and the sweet scent of her shampoo. Kiyoko smiles at her, wide and bright, and Yachi momentarily forgets how to breathe.

    “Shall we go?” Suga says behind them, before Yachi has time to say anything else. “The others are already there waiting for us.”

    “Tanaka and Nishinoya are probably already drunk,” Daichi jokes, and Suga snorts.

    Asahi winces when he remembers the last time his boyfriend got drunk, and Daichi places a hand on his shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look.

    “We should’ve met at a café,” Asahi mumbles, just as they begin to make their way towards the nightclub a few blocks away.

֍֎֍֎֍

    Yachi ends up walking next to Kiyoko. She is relieved to find out that, after the initial shock, she is able to talk to Kiyoko in a relatively normal way. They talk about their majors, mostly, and Kiyoko is elated to find that Yachi decided to study arts after all. She asks her a lot of questions, and Yachi does her best to answer them, her previous agitation starting to fade away when she notices how genuinely interested Kiyoko is in her responses.

    However, she soon encounters a new problem: she can’t stop staring at Kiyoko’s lips.

    “Crap, I gotta look somewhere else!”

    She hurries to tear her eyes from Kiyoko’s gentle smile, frantically looking for a new place to set her gaze on.

    Her gaze lands, of course, on Kiyoko’s cleavage.

    Yachi has been keenly aware of the pronounced neckline of Kiyoko’s shirt from the moment she saw her, and has made a humongous effort to keep her gaze away from it. But she has failed. She is staring at Kiyoko’s boobs, and Kiyoko will notice. She is doomed, she is fucking doomed, Kiyoko is going to hate her for sure, and is that a beauty mark?

    “Hitoka-chan?” Yachi tears her eyes from Kiyoko’s boobs, and returns them to her face, looking like steam is going to burst out of her ears any second. “Is everything okay?”

    “Y-yes! I spaced out for a moment, that’s all!”

    Before Kiyoko can say anything else, Suga calls out her name from behind them. She turns to look at him from over her shoulder, and Yachi sighs with relief, silently thanking Suga for rescuing her, even if it was unintentional. She raises her head to find that Hinata is looking at her from over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin. Yachi’s eyes widen when she realizes that he has witnessed the entire exchange, and the red on her cheeks darkens even more.

    “You’re so gay,” Hinata mouths at her. Yachi squints at him, and gestures at his hand, joined with Kageyama’s. Hinata gives her a playful grin, and winks at her before turning to say something to his boyfriend. Yachi glares at the back of his head, raising her palms upwards and shaking her head in disbelief. She returns her attention to Kiyoko when she speaks up again next to her.

    “So those two did end up dating, huh?”

    Yachi follows Kiyoko’s gaze to Hinata and Kageyama’s linked hands, and smiles.

    “Oh, yeah. It’s been a couple years now.”

    “And Tsukishima and Yamaguchi?”

    “Them too.” Yachi laughs, Kiyoko’s question bringing all sorts of endearing memories to her mind. “But it took Tadashi dating someone else for Kei to realize he was in love with him.”

    Kiyoko throws her head back and laughs, and Yachi finds her heart skipping a beat for what feels like the thousandth time that night.

֍֎֍֎֍

    As it turns out, that is not the last time Yachi will feel weak at the knees at the sweet, tinkling sound of Kiyoko’s laughter.

    It happens several times on their way to the club, and then again when they get there, and find that Tanaka and Nishinoya are, in fact, already drunk. It happens again when Suga rolls up his sleeves, and announces that they will have to catch up to the two of them, much to Daichi and Asahi’s dismay, and one more time when Hinata and Yamaguchi run past them towards the dance floor, pulling their very begrudging boyfriends with them.

    And Yachi realizes, much to her delight, that Kiyoko laughs so much more now, compared to when they were in high school. She seems so much more relaxed, and perhaps a little bit more laid-back. Kiyoko has changed a lot, Yachi thinks, but she is still the same gentle, smart, caring person she fell in love with during high school, there is no doubt about it. And she still does that thing where she absently brushes her hair behind her ear while she is talking, and Yachi is eternally grateful for that.

    Yachi is different now, too. Four years is a lot of time, and so much has happened since Kiyoko and the others graduated. Over the years, and partly thanks to her friends’ support, Yachi has become more confident in herself. She still gets anxious and nervous sometimes, but she has learned to control her thoughts about impending doom and certain death every time something goes slightly wrong. Most of the times, anyways.

    Still, she finds herself becoming a babbling, blushing mess every time Kiyoko smiles at her, or accidentally brushes her hand against hers, or merely looks her way. Yachi feels like she is back in high school, fumbling and overthinking everything she does or say as she tries to deal with her first real crush.

    There have been other girls in the last four years, of course. Crushes, dates, and even girlfriends. Right now, as she stands next to Kiyoko inside of a nightclub filled with strangers, loud, booming music, and bright, flashing lights, Yachi is keenly aware that none of them have ever come close to making her feel the way she feels about Kiyoko. And along with that thought, comes the realization that, even after four years without seeing each other, her feelings for Kiyoko are still as strong as they were when they were in high school.

    With that thought in mind, while they wait for the drinks they just ordered at the bar, Yachi stares at Kiyoko’s face with a tiny, wistful smile. The lights of the club shine on her skin, and Yachi decides that Kiyoko looks stunning in every color.

    Once they are done, Kiyoko takes the drinks from the bartender’s hands, and hands one to Yachi. Yachi takes a small, tentative sip of her peach daiquiri (Kiyoko’s recommendation) and lets out an appreciative hum.

    “It’s good!”

    “I know, right?” Kiyoko tilts her glass towards Yachi, offering her drink. “Try mine.”

    Yachi brushes her lips on the rim of Kiyoko’s glass. Her drink is sweet too, but it’s also tangy, with a bitter aftertaste. It’s a strong combination of flavors, but Yachi would be lying if she said she doesn’t like it.

    “This one’s good too!”

    “Let me try yours.”

    Without waiting for Yachi’s answer, Kiyoko gently grabs her wrist, and brings her glass to her lips. Yachi watches as Kiyoko takes a sip from her drink, before giving her a wide, bright grin, and decides that she has probably died and went to heaven without realizing.

    “It’s good!” Kiyoko announces. Yachi nods slowly, way too busy thinking about indirect kisses to come up with an appropriate response. Kiyoko is still holding her wrist, her fingers warm against her pulse, and if Yachi wasn’t so focused on Kiyoko’s lips, shiny and pink from the ice of her daiquiri, she would worry about her noticing the inhumanly fast pace at which her heart is beating.

    They decide to go back to their friends, and Kiyoko doesn’t let go of Yachi until they arrive at the dance floor. Yachi takes tiny sips of her drink on the way there, trying to distract herself from the warmth of Kiyoko’s fingers against her skin.

    They are greeted by the sight of Tsukishima and Kageyama trying to catch their breath against a wall, unable to keep up with their respective boyfriends. Hinata and Yamaguchi have forsaken them, content with dancing with each other. They are right next to Daichi and Asahi, who look a lot like they are ready to join Tsukishima and Kageyama, but neither Suga nor Nishinoya look sober enough to realize. At the bar, Tanaka, Ennoshita, Narita, and Kinoshita wait for the bartender to bring them their drinks, already on their fourth round, and wobbling slightly on their feet.

    Kiyoko and Yachi watch them for a while, pointing and laughing at their antics. Yachi has already downed half her drink, and she can already feel the rum starting to work its magic. She feels more confident with every sip she takes, her words coming out with much more ease now as she slowly gets used to Kiyoko touching her, and smiling at her.

    Just as Hinata and Yamaguchi begin to pull their boyfriends back into the dancefloor, the song ends. It is immediately replaced by another one, a song that Yachi doesn’t know. Kiyoko gasps, and a wide grin spreads across her face.

    “I love this song!” she turns to Yachi, eyes wide with excitement. “Do you wanna dance, Hitoka-chan?”

    Yachi chokes on her drink, completely unprepared for Kiyoko’s offer. The singer’s velvety voice begins to drift from the speakers, just as she opens her mouth to explain that no, she doesn’t really dance, it’s a bad idea, maybe she can dance with Suga-san, since it looks like Daichi-san is ready to pass out, but Kiyoko’s eyes are so shiny and filled with excitement, and her smile is so bright and inviting, that Yachi simply can’t get the words out. So, possibly aided by the rum, Yachi nods her head, and gulps down the rest of her drink. She slams her glass on the nearest table, and then grabs Kiyoko’s arm.

    She doesn’t have time to be surprised by her own boldness, because Kiyoko is already dragging her to the dance floor, downing the remains of her margarita on the way there. She also doesn’t have time to regret her decision, because the chorus begins just as they finally find a spot next to their friends. Kiyoko turns around to face her, mouthing the lyrics, and Yachi is gone.

    “I’m a cool girl, I’m a, I’m a cool girl,” Kiyoko lip-syncs, or maybe sings, Yachi doesn’t care. She only cares about the way she’s running her fingers through her black, silky hair, and swaying her hips to the beat, her skirt flowing around her thighs in the most tantalizing way. “Eyes cold, I roll my eyes at you boy.”

    Kiyoko grabs her by the shoulders, and playfully shakes her body along with hers. Yachi laughs, and tries her best to move to the beat as well. Kiyoko gives her an approving smile, and a strangely familiar warmth spreads in the pit of Yachi’s stomach. She can’t really tell if it’s because of the alcohol, or because of Kiyoko’s closeness, or both, but it is certainly emboldening. Little by little, Yachi loosens her body, until she is carelessly swaying to the beat, shaking her head and circling her hips and shoulders. She is almost too focused on the song to notice that Kiyoko keeps getting closer and closer. Almost.

    The tips of their shoes bump together, and Yachi can feel Kiyoko’s skirt fluttering against her jeans. She looks up from the ground and meets Kiyoko’s eyes. Her breath hitches at the unexpected intensity she finds inside of Kiyoko’s black gaze, meeting hers without a hint of bashfulness or hesitation. Yachi stops moving, as if frozen in place from Kiyoko’s stare, while the last beats of the song play from the speakers.

    A new song starts playing, and only then Yachi realizes that they’ve been standing on the dance floor, unmoving, for a while now. She shakes her head slightly, coughing awkwardly when she notices just how close Kiyoko is standing.

    “Let’s go grab another drink!” she exclaims, feeling her face heating up as blood rushes to her cheeks. Kiyoko smiles and nods her head, still staring into Yachi’s eyes with the same unfamiliar intensity.

    This time, Yachi doesn’t hesitate to grab Kiyoko’s hand and lead her towards the bar. She doesn’t stop to think about it, knowing that if she does, she will probably disintegrate into the air.

    As they return to the dance floor, peach daiquiri and margarita in hand, Hinata gives Yachi a double thumbs-up from where he’s grinding against Kageyama a few feet away. Yachi laughs loudly, and returns the gesture, highly amused at the focused expression on Kageyama’s face. She returns her attention to Kiyoko, and finds that she is already dancing again. Yachi takes a moment to appreciate her capacity to dance without spilling her drink, wondering how she got so good at it, before taking a big gulp of her drink and joining her.

    A couple hours pass like minutes, and they keep dancing, only leaving the dance floor to get more drinks at the bar. Around them, their friends keep getting drunker and drunker, stopping by to dance and talk with them in various states of disarray.

    By her fourth peach daiquiri, Yachi’s vision is swimming, and the floor feels like jelly under her feet. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows that she has drunk too much, especially when she is aware of how much of a lightweight she is. But she is certainly too drunk to care, especially when Kiyoko keeps getting closer and closer to her, until their clothes brush against each other, and their hips bump together more than once. It’s intoxicating, and it makes Yachi’s head swim in the most glorious way.

    “I just wanna tell you that you’re really pretty, girl,” the singer’s sweet voice echoes around them, and Yachi can’t help but to smile at the lyrics, and how fitting they are. “I just wanna know if you will let me be your world.”

    Suddenly, she feels long, slender fingers curling around her hip, and she nearly drops her glass in surprise. She looks up, eyes wide and lips parted, to find a gentle curve in Kiyoko’s lips.

    “I just know you got to taste like candy, candy girl.”

    Everything moves in slow motion around them. The music is muffled as it reaches their ears, and the people around them become nothing more than blurs of color and movement.

    “I just wanna tell you that you’re really pretty, girl.”

    The last notes of the singer’s voice fade out, and for the second time that night, Yachi Hitoka finds herself standing still on the dance floor, trying to force air into his lungs as she stares into Kiyoko’s eyes, trying to decipher what lies behind the sudden intensity of her dark irises.

    “Hitoka-chan,” Kiyoko mumbles, her voice barely a whisper. Her words carry the sweet smell of lime and tequila, and Yachi nearly whimpers at the sound of Kiyoko’s voice, raspy and low in a way she has never heard before.

    Yachi parts her lips, and draws in a long breath. But before she can get any words out, she is suddenly hit by a strong wave of nausea.

    She stumbles on her feet, her hand shooting up to hold onto Kiyoko’s arm. Kiyoko rushes to grab her by the waist, holding her before she falls. Her expression shifts into one of concern, eyebrows knitting together when she notices how pale Yachi looks.

    “Hitoka-chan, are you okay?”

    “Can we-?” Yachi struggles to get the words out. Everything seems out of focus, and she squeezes her eyes closed to fight the nausea. “Can we go outside for a moment?”

    Kiyoko is immediately grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the dance floor, pushing against dozens of people, and shielding Yachi with her body. It feels like an eternity until they finally step outside, the cold air of the night hitting their warm skin and making it bristle. There are several people gather outside, but they pay them no mind as they rush past them, hand in hand.

    Yachi doubles over, one hand on her knee, and the other one gripping Kiyoko’s, and takes in big gulps of cold air. Kiyoko slowly rubs her back, giving her a look of concern.

    Yachi’s nausea finally begins to recede after a while, and all of sudden, she is hyper aware of Kiyoko’s hand inside of hers, and her other hand sliding up and down her back. She looks up to meet Kiyoko’s eyes, only then noticing how close their faces are. She stares at her for a while, at her long, black lashes, at the gentle curve of her nose, at her pink, plush lips, and wonders how is it possible for a single human being to hold so much beauty.

    “I really… really missed you.”

    The words tumble out before she can stop them. Kiyoko’s eyes widen at the sudden confession, and she blinks rapidly, surprised. Then, a soft, gentle smile spreads across her lips, her eyes glistening in a way Yachi can’t quite decipher.

    “I missed you too, Hitoka-chan,” Kiyoko mumbles. “I missed you a lot.”

    Yachi holds Kiyoko’s gaze for a moment, until she can feel herself blushing to the roots of her hair. She looks away, and shakes her hair, a small laugh bubbling out of her lips. Kiyoko straightens her back, and Yachi gives her a questioning look. Kiyoko stares at her with a small, wistful smile playing on her lips.

    “We are kind dumb, aren’t we?” she says. Yachi straightens her back too, struggling not to wobble on her feet. “We should’ve kept in contact.”

    “I wanted to!” Yachi exclaims. Kiyoko gives her a surprised look, and Yachi worries her lips between her teeth for a moment before continuing, slurring her words just slightly. “I wanted to keep in contact with you. I found myself about to text you or e-mail so many times, but then… I didn’t.”

    Kiyoko seems to consider her words for a moment, a slight frown on her face.

    “Why?” she finally asks.

    Yachi stares down at her feet, biting on her lower lip again. She fiddles with the hem of her shirt, fighting against her drunken haze as she tries to organize her thoughts into words.

    “I just… I didn’t think you’d wanted to talk to me.”

    “Why would you think that!?” Kiyoko exclaims. Yachi flinches and yelps, surprised by the sudden raise in volume. She looks up to find an offended expression on Kiyoko’s face, and her head reels back in surprise. This is definitely not the reaction she expected.

    “I-I just did?” Yachi’s words come out sounding like a question.

    “That’s-!” Kiyoko starts, but she is clearly also struggling with her jumbled thoughts. She grumbles for a few moments, and then finally settles on grabbing Yachi’s shoulders, and looking her square in the eye. “I’ve always liked you, Hitoka-chan!”

    Yachi stammers and splutters, her blood rushing to her face at a record-breaking speed.

    “I’ve always liked you too!” she exclaims, grabbing onto Kiyoko’s wrists. “I’ve always admired you as a manager, a-a-and as a person!”

    Kiyoko stares silently at her for a few seconds, eyes wide and mouth agape. Then she heaves a defeater sigh, dropping her head and letting it hang from her shoulders.

    “I don’t mean it that way…”

    The four daiquiris and the one shot of tequila that Nishinoya made them all drink are making it really hard for Yachi to make sense of Kiyoko’s words and actions. She pouts and frowns as she stares at Kiyoko’s deflated figure, her mind running through a million possibilities, except for the one Kiyoko is actually implying.

    “Then-” she begins, but Kiyoko cuts her off.

    “I’ve been flirting with you all night.” Kiyoko’s gaze meets Yachi’s once again. She suddenly looks very vulnerable, Yachi notices, with her cheeks flushed, and her eyes glistening behind her glasses. “I was hoping you’d notice, but apparently you didn’t…”

    Yachi blinks slowly, Kiyoko’s words not yet catching up to her. Then, her eyes begin to widen slowly, her mouth falling open with shock once she realizes what Kiyoko just said.

    “I-You…! F-flirting!? Wi-with me!?” Kiyoko nods furiously, sending Yachi into yet another round of fumbling and stuttering. “Y-you were f-flirting with me!?”

    “Of course I was!”

    “But I-!”

    Before Yachi can finish, Kiyoko leans forward to press her lips against her in a small, chaste kiss. She pulls away before Yachi can even begin to register the fact that Shimizu Kiyoko just kissed her, with a light blush covering her cheeks, and a small pout on her lips.

     “Of course I was,” she repeats, softer this time.

    Yachi doesn’t answer, doesn’t even move or make a sound for what feels like an eternity. Kiyoko begins to fidget awkwardly, clearly panicking at the lack of a response. Yachi thinks she looks adorable, of course, but she also wants her to stop making such an uncomfortable face. She wants Kiyoko to smile, and laugh, as she absently brushes her hair behind her ear in that way that makes Yachi’s heart flutter inside her chest.

    So, before she can stop to think about it, Yachi leans forward to press her lips against Kiyoko’s.

    Kiyoko’s lips taste sweet, and tangy, and they are, much like Yachi had predicted and imagined oh so many times, impossibly soft. And maybe it’s the booze, or the fact that she is currently kissing her crush after so many years, because Yachi feels like she is floating, carried away by the fruity scent of Kiyoko’s shampoo, and the intoxicating taste of her lips.

    Then, Kiyoko angles her head and slightly parts her lips to deepen the kiss, and Yachi nearly whimpers. She lets go of Kiyoko’s wrists to hold onto her shirt, stepping closer and pushing their bodies together, thoroughly convinced that if she doesn’t hold on to Kiyoko, she is going to float away. One of Kiyoko’s hands finds its way to Yachi’s cheek, as she circles her waist with her other arm and brings her even closer to her chest.

    The kiss feels like it last forever, and yet when they part, it becomes clear that it wasn’t enough at all. They breathe heavily against each other’s lips, the sweet smell of all the cocktails they drunk mixing together. Yachi cracks her eyes open to find Kiyoko’s gaze already fixed on her. And finally, she can decipher the meaning behind that intense looks she gives her, can finally understand the storm that rages behind those dark, gorgeous eyes.

    “When I say I like you,” Kiyoko whispers, and Yachi nearly shivers at the feeling of her breath tickling her lips. “I mean it like this.”

    And that is all it takes for Yachi to break, her drunken mind no longer able to process everything that is happening. She buries her face in the crook of Kiyoko’s neck, and lets a shrill, yet silent scream, muffled by Kiyoko’s skin. Kiyoko throws her head back and laughs, wrapping her arms around Yachi in a tight hug.

    “I can’t believe I just kissed you…” Yachi mumbles against her skin.

    Kiyoko smiles, and gently pushes her away, enough to be able to see her face. She grabs Yachi’s face between her hands, and presses their foreheads together. Yachi makes a tiny, surprised sound, her wide eyes staring into Kiyoko’s with a look of bashfulness.

    “And you can kiss me any time you want,” Kiyoko says. Yachi’s cheeks, already tinted with a shade of pink Kiyoko had never seen before, darken even more.

    “So you’re not just kissing me cause you’re drunk?” she mumbles. Kiyoko shakes her head from side to side, giving her the gentlest of smiles, and for the first time since they got out of the club, Yachi smiles as well. “Good.”

    She leans in to kiss Kiyoko again, and Kiyoko responds eagerly, moving to circle her waist as Yachi reaches up to wrap her arms around her shoulders. They part after a few seconds, all flushed cheeks and bashful smiles, with their hearts thumping wildly inside their chests. A tiny, bubbling laugh escapes Yachi’s lips, and Kiyoko joins her immediately, no longer capable of holding her joy.

    “By the way,” Kiyoko says once their laughter recedes. “I’m really glad I wore this shirt tonight.”

    It takes Yachi a few seconds to understand what Kiyoko is implying, but once she does, the face she makes is one that Kiyoko is sure she will never forget.

֍֎֍֎֍

    The next morning, Yachi wakes up with a killing hangover, a newfound appreciation for nightclubs, an incredibly romantic text from Kiyoko, and a splitting grin on her face.

    As she puts the final details on her response, and hits the “send” button, Yachi can’t help but to thank the heavens for whoever invented daiquiris and margaritas.

[xbakugobakugobakugo]

muffy goes to hell

 i didn’t edit this and i wrote it on the high of no sleep. but still.

Buffy steps off the bus already regretting every single life choice she had ever made. Next to her, a fellow teammate checks her watch, which reads: 6:27 AM. After an hour bus ride, it’s still before sunrise. 

“Yo, Driscoll!” Marty shouts as he jumps off the bus. “Spikes?” Buffy tosses him her spike tightener, shivering in the crisp October air.

Somewhere nearby, someone lets out a scream as he discovers the forty foot hill that opens the course. Meanwhile, twenty Jefferson kids go about pitching a tent so they can shiver underneath a roof instead. Then they throw out snacks, which are banned unless throwing up on the forty foot hill is a desirable option. Buffy, who has already consumed a banana at exactly four hours before her allotted race time, shakes her head at the embarrassing runners who snack on stale uncrustables before the race. 

“Marty,” Buffy whispers, waiting to see if he hears her through his headphones. He doesn’t—he’s too busy thinking about the twenty or less minutes of death they’re all about to go through. Buffy decides to do the same; she visualizes sprinting at the beginning, feeling strong in the middle, and then feeling like she’s carrying Andi, Jonah, Cyrus, Marty, Libby, Amber, Reed, and TJ on her back as she wheezes to the finish line. 

Great. Can’t wait. 

Cross country is the only sport Cyrus refuses to show up and cheer for. Even Cyrus won’t show up with sunscreen, glittery signs, and moral support. Instead, Buffy’s mom comes out to one meet a month and Marty’s dad shivers in the car so he can drive him home. Andi wished her good luck the night before, with that awkward emoji face next to it, meaning—“you’re dumb for doing this sport, but good luck anyway!”

The morning slogs on, and Buffy drags Marty to the single bathroom which was last cleaned in 1985. They wait forty minutes, only to be retrieved by angry captains saying: sorry, it’s pre-run run time. Buffy tries her best not to throw something. 

At TJ’s basketball games, or Amber’s figure skate shows, or Cyrus’s musicals, Buffy can usually bring herself to smile. Enjoy the experience. But now, as she runs a mile before her actual race, in 40 degree weather, at 7:30 in the morning, she’s starting to feel like she’s smacking her head against a wall. Repeatedly.

“Stretch!” Marty calls out once they get back to the tent, which is being blown into the air. He smacks energy gum, which is probably, definitely some form of steroids but no one seems to care.

Buffy avoids ripping her muscles out by—reluctantly—stretching, and mostly just staring into space and seriously considering her life decisions. Marty, meanwhile, listens to screaming rap music (raccoon in da blender, obviously, along with heartbreak lake), and halfheartedly reaches for his toes. 

Finally, there’s only twenty minutes until the race, and they both put on uncomfortable shoes which have spikes sharper than the wing of Amber’s eyeliner if she tries hard enough. Marty laces her shoes, and Buffy laces his. They whisper a cross country blessing to each other: “bless our shoelaces, our timing chips, our jerseys, our nerves, and our results.” Then Marty writes the words “Plus Ultra” on her arm and she writes the words “Go the distance” on his. It’s an age old tradition with no explanation, but it’s the only way to prepare for what they are about to experience. 

At the starting line, in a mixed girls and boys race, Marty gives Buffy a quick hug, then proceeds to ignore her, because she’s competition. Buffy imagines Cyrus is there, counting down the seconds until the gun is fired. And when it goes off, and her mind goes blank, and her legs start to move, she clears all thoughts of friends out of her head. She sees nothing but green field, feels nothing but biting cold, thinks of nothing but the steps in front of her.

Of course, that works the first 100 meters, but by the second 100 meters she has Boomerang by JoJo Siwa in her head and is trying to resist surgically removing her own mind for blessing her with this song. And of course, the song syncs in line with her footsteps and breathing, so it doesn’t go away. The entire race.

Marty’s mind is completely blank because he’s too busy dying a slow death to put anything into his head. Except, somewhere in the second mile, he starts to think about anime, and it’s all over. The energy gum has given him enough energy to finish the race in less than eighteen minutes, but it’s also given him enough energy to play through every single episode of attack on titan in his head at full volume in the span of four hundred meters. And then to do it again. 

Somewhere in the second mile is also when Marty permanently passes Buffy, offering no acknowledgement. Buffy just keeps running, feet pounding and Boomerang raging. The finish line is nearing sight, except not really, and they still have a mile and a half left. Buffy accidentally-not-accidentally stabs someone with her spike, who may or may not have been Iris. Who knows? It’s common knowledge that no one is responsible for what goes down in a cross country race. It’s a sacred, untouched time. 

While Iris bleeds from a single spike-shaped hole in her leg. Marty’s feet nearly fall off because someone had the bright idea to fill one quarter of the course with cursed concrete. He considers, several times, untying his shoes and running the rest barefoot. He doesn’t, though, because surrendering one’s shoes is just like surrendering one’s weapon. He thinks about stale uncrustables and also the even-more-stale-and-possibly-moldy knockoff uncrustables Cece bought for the same. Meanwhile, Buffy fever dreams of baby taters as she realizes they have to once again run straight up a forty foot hill.

A vertical, forty foot hill. 

Cross country skiing is almost, (almost) preferable to the trek up the final hill. Almost. Buffy claws her way up the slope, makes it to the top, nearly throws up, and spots Marty a ways away already crossing the finish line. Some coach yells at her to speed up, but her ears are tuned out to spectators and tuned in to the jumping heartbeat in her chest and the absolute lack of breath she has. She even hallucinates TJ, Cyrus, and Reed in the crowd, wearing matching t-shirts to cheer them on. That, of course, (more than a single genuine cross country fan at a meet) is as much of a dream as her ever actually reaching the finish line. 

Fortunately, neither Marty nor Buffy throw up after tumbling over the finish line. Gus does, because he’s being forced by his parents to run and because social events make him nervous. There’s too much cross country camaraderie here, between the solidarity of guys wearing short shorts to the awkward, “inspirational” posts made by the most elite runners in the state. Buffy and Marty both made inspirational cross country instagrams, once, seeing as they’re milesplit famous and known by fellow jealous runners as the Jefferson lovebirds. The only picture Marty ever ended up posting (because he would rather stalk other runners and screenshot milesplit results to spam Buffy with) was an artsy shot taken just after a state race at one point, of Marty and Buffy kissing right across the finish line against a sunrise background. Buffy, on the other hand, posts daily story updates of every run she goes on, and recaps every single race in a long paragraph rant. Even TJ reads them, despite reluctance. Marty couldn’t be more proud. 

Once Marty is done dragging Gus back to the tent, some captain announces: now that everyone has finished running, it’s time to run (again)! Buffy, once again, plays through her life decisions in her head as she shuffles along behind her teammates at a speed slower than Cyrus’s mile time. Marty looks like something has sucked the soul out of him (because it has, and that (something) was 3.1 miles of soul-sucking fun). Finally, they finish, and stretch again, because why wouldn’t they? 

Buffy scrolls through several inspirational messages on her phone: from her mom, from Cyrus, the old one from Andi, and, shockingly, one from TJ. 

“Time for uncrustables!” Marty screams, interrupting her thoughts. Being a smart girl, Buffy grabs seven granola bars, three bags of (regular flavor) cheez-its, and eighty packs of Mott’s fruit snacks (because one never knows when the supply will disappear). Marty eats four bananas and every single honey uncrustable in the box, because he’s chaotic.

“Results? Times?” someone goes around asking everyone: the neurotic one. Buffy just throws him a look that says: ask me and I will push you off the bus. Marty, who lacks such a look in his repertoire, gets bullied into guessing his time, only to be met with a pitying glance from someone who didn’t even run the race.

“Hey Marty,” Buffy calls, “the Spoon after?”

Marty nods, and then nods some more. The only way to erase the trauma is to overeat baby taters and cry in a public place—sometimes, while flaunting the medals acquired in the race.

Somewhere in the corner, Gus is still throwing up. Buffy mentally prepares herself for another bus ride, only this one will be less anxious and more full of regret: that she didn’t run faster, that she ate all seven granola bars, that she showed up for the first day of practice and didn’t take up the trombone instead. Maybe she should have joined Andi’s crafting group, or Walker’s art appreciation society, or Cyrus’s thespian club. 

While she’s contemplating all of this with her nose pressed against the window, Marty comes over and puts an arm around her, then prompts falls asleep on her shoulder. Several teammates sing along in unison to high school musical and various rappers blasting through a tiny speaker. Everyone holds on to their seats, hoping that *this time* the coach doesn’t crash the bus.

There’s probably a lesson in there, about teams and relationships and bonds and being worth it. Unfortunately, the message gets lost in Buffy’s mind, which is operating exactly like she woke up at 4:30 in the morning—which, she did. And so, while reflecting on the last few hours of her life, Buffy’s eyelids slip down until she’s sound asleep between Marty and the window, catching up on sleep already so she can wake up and do it all again next weekend.