#I used to try so so hard to have a good New Years like I really put a lot of importance on it

[crazyvik97rpg]

Well, to say Ronald was taking it well would be a blatant lie. William decided to just come clean about everything and Sebastian silently agreed. So they told them how long they were together, when the others found out… But William couldn’t explain for long, because Ronald interrupted him then for the first time.

Alan, Eric and Othello just sat beside them and watched the scene, not much else they could do, to be fair. Once Ronald‘s first outburst was over, William continued. It seemed like all the dots were connecting now and Ronald had been fooled for way longer than he initially thought. What the hell?! Then he also found out how the others found out and warned that he may just pass out at this point. Sebastian really had to admit that he understood why Ronald was so upset – they basically fooled their friends, Ronald for the longest, almost for two years. For him to find it out like this was really…not great.

It was also not that great for Ronald to realize now that he always used to set Sebastian up for all sorts of possible dates with people when he had never been single this whole time!

„Yea, well…no hard feelings, really…“, Sebastian shrugged with an awkward smile.

„Had you told me, I would have stopped though! Oh my god, I‘m so sorry…“, Ronald gasped, arms still crossed over his chest – he really looked a little pale, as if he had to process so much information first. More and more dots were connecting, this was crazy!

„It’s alright, Ronald, really. Again, we‘re sorry we didn’t tell you earlier“, Sebastian sighed and Alan also chimed in then, grabbed Ronald by the shoulders: „Come on, sit down, calm down a bit. It’s quite a lot to take in, I guess. But…it‘s good news overall. Nobody died, it’s just…a secret relationship. Right?“, Alan was trying to really put this into perspective. Sure, Ronald was upset about it all but neither William nor Sebastian kept this from him out of pure malicious intent. „You can see it that way. …You found out about it…also due to an accident. I‘d say that’s pretty funny in itself“, he hummed with a smile.

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[svtswhorehouse]

HIS BEST GIRL

pairings: bad boy!mingyu x good girl!reader genre: mdni, smut warnings: smoking, blowjob gone wrong ????, mentions of mingyu having a monster cock (IT’S A JOKE), oral (m), mingyu trying to orally cock train reader, reader overestimating her abilities, inexperienced reader, mentions of gagging, a few coughing fits, the reader cries, experienced mingyu, MINOR subspace, reader just wants to be called a good girl, she's kinda a brat ngl, some fluff idk how to describe it, mentions of mingyu being a mean dom, he doesn’t cum y’all sorry word count: 3.8k side note: reader is close childhood friends with ALL of seventeen and i will be writing other members with this particular oc as well. so much lore pls feel free to ask questions !! planning on making this a series, so enjoy :)

𐙚 previous + next 𐙚

Big, big, big.

You let out a whimper, doe eyes rolling up to look at the man peering down at you. Your lips were wrapped firmly around his cock, struggling as he inched himself further and further into your mouth. 

So big.

He was so damn big.

From arms to chest, it came as no surprise that Kim Mingyu was a man that worked hard for his body. He tended to coup himself up at the gym, spending hours upon hours lifting weights to gain the muscle he had acquired over the years. As expected, his cock was larger than most, if not, the biggest you have ever seen and the biggest you could have ever possibly imagined. Despite hearing the constant gossip amongst the girls on campus, you have finally gotten a chance to see for yourself and needless to say the monster cock rumors were true.

You have not a clue how you managed to find yourself in this position. In fact, you actually had no clue how you’ve been managing to find yourself in a lot of positions lately. After your escapade with Jeonghan a few days before, it left you excited, eager, and ready for more. You had always been one for learning new things and that intimate experience with him had opened up a whole new world for you – one in which you have never ventured in before. 

You squeezed your eyes shut as you did your best to take what Mingyu was giving you. He was only less than half way in and there was still so much more to go. It was impossible. You were sure of it. 

It would never fit. 

Mingyu however, despite your idling thoughts, loved a good challenge. He knew you could take it. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but he was sure that with just a little bit more practice, he could train you to take his cock with ease. 

“Relax.” He said monotonously. His eyes were focused on where his length disappeared into your mouth, a groan forcing to escape from his lips. “You’re fine.” He reassured you as he stilled his hips while you gathered yourself. “Just breathe.”

Listening to him, you took slow breaths through your nose while you adjusted to the foreign feeling of something in your mouth. If it wasn’t his length that killed you, it would most definitely be his girth. It had only been a few minutes and your jaw was beginning to ache already. 

It was painfully obvious that you have never done this before and it was embarrassing to say the least. You were sure that other girls in which he has been with managed to take him easily without any complaint, so much more different from you and your lack of experience. For some reason you had the sudden need to show him that you could be just like those girls, maybe even better.

Making a decision that you were in fact not ready for, you rested a hand on Mingyu’s thigh and attempted to slide your mouth further down his cock. However, you definitely seemed to overestimate your abilities as you slightly gagged when it went a little too far and caused you to let out a muffled cough. 

Furrowing his eyebrows, Mingyu made a sound of disapproval as he watched you. He fisted at your ponytail, using your hair as leverage to gently pull you up and off of him. 

A whine escaped from your lips as soon as his tip slipped out. In such little time you had found yourself used to the feeling of something occupying your mouth and now that it was gone you didn’t enjoy the loss. You tried to dive back on him, but you were met with resistance instead. Mingyu’s hand snaked it’s way to your face as he lent forward on the couch to be somewhat eye level with you. 

“What did I tell you?” He asked with a stern voice. His fingers gripped at your jaw to keep you in place, making sure you didn’t shy away from the angry look he was sending your way. 

Your eyes were quick to fill with tears, not liking both his tone and the sudden confrontation. You were never the type of person who was fond of getting reprimanded – not when you were younger and not now as well. You tried to avert your attention to elsewhere, but Mingyu tsked in dissatisfaction. 

“Nuh-uh. Look at me.”

You typically tended to listen very well in any circumstance so needless to say it came as a surprise that you were acting a little out of the ordinary today. Your behavior was almost beginning to get somewhat bratty and Mingyu could only hope that it wouldn’t continue.

“What did I say?” He asked again. “Before we started this. What did we agree on?”

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous. “To take it slow.” You answered softly, your voice fading out as you spoke the words. 

“Mhm.” He nodded. “So why are we rushing things huh? I told you it’s not going to happen in one day, didn’t I?”

You shrugged, vaguely remembering that it took some time convincing Mingyu to allow you to suck him off. It was your first time doing this, let alone the second time doing something sexual altogether and he knew that. He made it very clear that if this was going to happen, it was going to go his way. However, seems like you had the wrong idea in mind for “his way” because according from what you’ve heard about Mingyu around campus, he never goes easy. It was always endless gossip about fast and hard. Rough and messy. Mean and humiliating.

This was nothing like what you originally imagined it to be like, but quite frankly maybe that was exactly what you needed. Maybe Mingyu knew your limits better than you knew your own. 

“M’ sorry.” You muttered as you looked down to fiddle with the ring on your finger.

Mingyu took a few seconds to respond, examining you instead. You didn’t take much of a liking to the way his eyes felt on your figure, causing you to shift around. He eventually opted to nod in response as he let go of your face.

For a second you thought he was done. That you blew your chances in learning how to give a blowjob and that was it – but instead he grabbed a cigarette from his pack, sparking it up and taking a long drag. Blowing the smoke up into the air, he leant back on the couch with his legs spread wide open. His cock stood tall in all it’s glory, hard and coated from your saliva. “Let’s try this again.” 

You perked up immediately at the statement, sitting on your knees between his legs. The carpet dug into your skin, but you didn’t take any notice to the scratchy feeling, instead giving the man before you your undivided attention. He was indulging you and better yet, corrupting you. 

With a hand resting on the back of your head and burning cigarette in the other, Mingyu led you back to his cock. He let his tip rest at your lips, swearing under his breath as he struggled hard not to slam right into your mouth from the sight of your innocent doe eyes peering up at him. 

Never in all of the years he had known you, did Mingyu think you two would ever be in this position. He was a menace in the bedroom, a hard dom and on certain occasions a brat tamer. He normally went for the girls who he could throw around. The ones who would get on their knees for him with just the snap of his fingers alone and the ones who wouldn’t care if he didn’t hold back in which he never planned to do in the first place. 

But this was different – this was you.

He wanted to move slower because although you didn’t know much about the joys of sex and pleasure, he did, and he also knew that you weren’t the type of person who could be easily thrusted into it. You were far too sheltered, far too nice, and far too pure.

“Gyu….” You whined, teetering on the edge of slight impatience. He was taking too long and you were beginning to get shy under his gaze.

The hint of desperation in your tone quickly snapped Mingyu out of his daydream and he jumped back into action soon after. “Open.” He ordered, to which you obeyed.

Your lips parted, mouth awaiting to be stuffed yet again. You almost looked like a puppy eager for it’s treat and Mingyu struggled to bite his tongue to hold back the degradation wanting to escape. 

If it was anyone else – oh if it was anyone other than you, he would have made them cry. He would’ve made them beg, and he would’ve made them show him how much they wanted it. It was quite shocking what affect you had on him. Only you had the ability to make Kim Mingyu go soft. 

“Good girl.” He praised, noticing that you followed his instructions well. 

You found it rather difficult to contain a moan, your thighs pressing together as the words floated straight to your head. Mingyu raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh as he took notice of the way you enjoyed being praised, just like he assumed you would.

The boys were always hard to read – all thirteen of them mostly silent and kept to themselves for almost the entirety of your life in which you’ve known them. However, for them, you were an open book. One in which they have read every single page to about a million times. 

“Stick out your tongue.” He instructed. 

Almost immediately, it darted out of your mouth causing dirty thoughts to flood the boy’s mind. You looked as if you belonged on the thumbnail of a porn video and for a second he seriously considered snapping a photo to keep for his eyes only. 

Groaning, he shook his head. “You’re killing me Y/N.” With a now clear mind, Mingyu slapped the tip of his cock against your tongue. Your eyes narrowed in on it, the want and need to have it deep inside your mouth as opposed to him just teasing you. 

But you were good and good girls don’t complain. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, Mingyu finally slid himself into your mouth. He only allowed a good two inches in at first, slowly working his way up to what you managed to take before. The ache in your jaw began to make a comeback and you almost wished you were a hippo, for the first time in your life envying their ability to unhinge their own jaws.

You can take it. You can take it. You can take it.

Mingyu gently inched himself into your mouth little by little until he was eventually over the halfway mark. Yet again you took steady breaths through your nose to help calm yourself down as your eyes began to water. Pushing away the urge to cough you instead clutched the man’s knee, using it as your personal stress ball. The fogginess that was beginning to cloud your mind was progressively getting more difficult to ignore and you struggled to gather yourself as your thoughts drifted and you found it harder to think. 

Mingyu steadied himself and locked his gaze on your face. He knew that look all too well – the one in which the lights were on, but no one’s home. He’s become quite accustomed to it, having seen it multiple times before with close to every rendezvous he’s had. This was the part in which he was supposed to humiliate and degrade. It was almost routine at this point. However, with one glance at the tears forming in your waterline, you just so happened to tug at his heartstrings. 

“You good baby?” He asked, pulling a bit of himself out of your mouth to make it somewhat easier for you. 

Barely registering his words, you paused for a beat to collect yourself before letting out a sound of assurance. Despite this however, Mingyu would seem to differ as the tears that were once threatening to fall surely enough went cascading down your face with just the blink of your eyes. 

“You sure?” He asked again, refusing to move. The time he spent making you wait was driving you crazier by the minute and it didn’t help that he kept your ponytail wrapped around his hand to prevent you from moving. 

You made a sound of approval yet again to give him the green light, this time being much more insistent with a little nod of your head. 

You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to stop. 

With a sigh, Mingyu bit his lip hesitating. Fortunately for you though, with him being distracted by his own thoughts, he made the mistake of loosening his grip on your hair by the slightest. You were quick to jump at the opportunity that suddenly arose, seemingly not having learned your lesson before – the one that invisibly states “it takes time to take a dick this god damn big.”

Instead of slowly pacing yourself further down his cock, in alternative you forced yourself much too quickly to slide in two more inches. Although a miniscule number to what most people might think, especially the already experienced – you could feel the tip of his cock drag against the back of your throat, the feeling hitting you like a hurricane. Your tears made an appearance once again, except now moving much more quickly and frequently down your cheeks as you tried your hardest not to gag. Your breathing picked up to assist with your struggle, swallowing around Mingyu’s cock when you realized you couldn’t inhale or exhale through your mouth. You reached a hand out, squeezing the man’s thigh a lot harder than you had before. The back of your throat felt raw and for a second you thought you might have possibly dislocated your jaw. 

Mingyu was quick to throw his cigarette down on the ashtray, leaning forward as soon as he processed your actions. You felt his hand thread through your hair, using it to get a grip and pull you off his cock. When the tip finally slipped out of your mouth, you instantly broke out into a coughing fit, no longer being able to contain it. Amongst your struggle however, to Mingyu’s surprise, you still seemed to be so persistent as your hand reached out to grip at the base of him despite needing a break. 

The man clenched his jaw, leaning in close to your face. “I’m gonna kill you.” He muttered, keeping a hand on you to provide a sense of space between you and his cock that for some unknown reason you seemed so eager to get back to. 

This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. He gave you an inch and you took a mile.

“I can –,” You coughed, “I can take it.”

Mingyu scoffed at your words, running his eyes over you to take in your state. You were a little bit short of a mess. Your eyes were glazed over, tears running down your face, and voice hoarse. You definitely could not take it. At least, not right now. 

“Y/N…” He started, trailing off when you rested your chin on his thigh while looking up at him. You were visibly deflating with each second that passed and Mingyu didn’t like that he was the reason for it. He knew you, and he also knew that you were trying your absolute best to be good for him. “Sure you can sweetheart.” He continued, striving to reassure you as he tucked himself back into his sweatpants. “But maybe some other time, okay?” 

You were not very happy with his answer and the whine of defiance that escaped your mouth let him know that. “Please Gyu, please.” You begged. “I’m fine, I promise.” Your pleas fell on deaf ears as he ignored you, already knowing that you were going to try and get him to change his mind, but it was already set and the decision was final. 

Scowling at the lack of his attention, before you could think, your hand came down on his leg rather hard, the smack ringing throughout the room.

“Hey.” Mingyu warned, tilting his head with his eyes set on yours sternly. “Quit it.” He said firmly, speaking through his teeth. 

Your own eyes held his fierce ones, eventually backing down with a huff when you came to the conclusion that you weren’t going to win. Suddenly refusing to look at him, you abruptly got up from your spot between his legs. He watched you carefully, stare following you as you got seated on the couch farthest away from him in annoyance. 

“Y/n…” He spoke your name, attempting to get your attention. You turned your head further to the side, ignoring him and not giving in. “Y/n.” He said much more strongly, however you still refused to to look in his direction. He let his gaze linger on you for a bit longer before chuckling to himself. “Brat.” He muttered under his breath, going to grab another cigarette to let off some steam. 

Silence filled the room, you mostly keeping quiet because you were angry and him because he knew you were just being stubborn. Mingyu could not deal with that right now – at least, not in the way he normally would if it had been any other girl in your position. 

You glanced over at him from time to time, looking away quickly whenever his eyes found yours. Your body was starting to get a little sluggish and for some odd reason your brain was fuzzy, but instead of making him aware of that, you kept it to yourself. The last thing you wanted to seem was weak. Mingyu however, is a lot smarter than that, especially in this category. He clocked the minor subspace you were slipping into as soon as it made an appearance, already knowing that there was a high chance in which you would fall into it knowing the person that you are. 

Most virgins do anyways.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, propping your arm up on a cushion to lean against it. The only thing you craved at the moment was warmth and comfort. You would have went running to Seungcheol and Jeonghan like you typically did, the oldest two always being able to fill that void – however instead you stayed glued to your spot on the couch. 

You wanted Mingyu at the moment and only Mingyu.  

Your eyes seemed to do the speaking for you, not realizing that you were staring at him with a sad and defeated expression. Mingyu scanned you up and down, finding it hard to resist your infamous puppy dog eyes as unintentional as they were. Sighing, he beckoned you over with the nod of his head. “C’mere.” 

You wavered, only jumping into action when he raised an eyebrow at your hesitance. Crawling forward on the couch, you perched yourself right beside him and curled up into his side. His arm wrapped around your body, the size of him compared to you being able to provide you with a sense of comfortability. 

Silence filled the air once again as soon as you were in his arms and the only sound that could be heard was him taking an occasional drag of his cigarette. You had gotten acquainted to the smell over the years, the scent of it no longer bothering you. Watching the smoke linger in the air with each puff he took, a question lingered on the tip of your tongue. 

“Can I try?” You asked, voice hopeful.

It took him by surprise to say the least. Never once have you shown any interest in the bad habits that himself and the boys picked up throughout the years they got older. Hell no, was the answer he was looking for in particular, but deciding you didn’t exactly need that blunt of a reply at the moment, he found something much nicer to deny your request. “Let’s move one step at a time hm?” 

You nodded, understanding that he had already indulged in one thing new that you wanted to try today and now you were asking for too much. “Okay.” 

With the conversation you two were having come to an end, Mingyu was finally able to have a moment of peace. He was a man that loved to party and loved playing music at full blast, however he also enjoyed the moments in which he could just let all the thoughts in his brain drift away. 

It seemed to be different for you however because while his thoughts were relaxing, yours were spurring. You kept on taking small glances at his face, wanting to speak up, but also not bringing yourself to disturb his peace. 

The ring on your finger went round and round in circles as you couldn’t stop fiddling and with each move of your hand it was driving Mingyu out of his comfortable state. Finally, after you had accidentally hit his stomach one too many times, he couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “Spit it out Y/n.” 

You snapped your head up at him, not have expected him to speak. “Uhm….” You hesitated asking the question. 

Another question. Mingyu hated questions.

 “Was I –,” You stuttered, “Was I good?” Your voice was small and fragile. For a split second Mingyu thought you were going to breakdown into tears due to your own self doubt. He took in your composure, knowing exactly what your question entailed – you wanted to hear one thing in specific, the one thing you��ve been so intent on trying to be throughout this entire situation. 

“Mhm.” He hummed, bringing his hand up to your head to pet at your hair. His fingers laced through your locks, gently scratching at your scalp. “You were such a good girl for me.” 

A rush of giddiness coursed through you, but you were quick to push it down as your worrisome thoughts still stayed. “Really?” Your voice cracking this time as you asked again. 

Shaking his head in approval, Mingyu kept playing with your hair as he tried to ease your worries away. After some time, he stopped to kiss your temple. “The best.”

You resisted the urge to giggle, pushing your face into his neck as you suddenly went shy from his words. That was the only thing you needed from him for today and it left you feeling much more than content. 

Oh how you loved being praised and oh how you loved being called a good girl, especially by Mingyu – and that’s exactly what you planned on continuing to be, his best girl.

[neiptune]

this town is fake but you're the real thing

cw: 11k wc, female reader, social media relationship, suna downloads an app that randomly matches anonymous users with each other because osamu thinks it'll help him open up more, strangers to lovers, romance, pining, so much texting, suna is as emotionally constipated as it gets

Against all expectations, it’s Osamu who managed to get under his skin.

An innocent night out to celebrate the new Onigiri Miya branch in Shizuoka, a few beers shared on a bench by the port, what started as innocent conversation about each other’s dating life soon turning into a painfully precise evaluation of why he can’t seem to find someone worth keeping around.

“You don’t really open up to them”, his friend shrugged.

“I open up to them plenty. I’ve been with Yuki for three months”, Suna refuted such harsh remark with a scowl.

“Yeah”, Samu mused, “have you ever shared anything about your friends and family? What’s the most vulnerable thought or feeling you discussed?”.

Rintaro took a moment to reflect, begrudging silence weighing more each second spent quiet.

“She met Motoya”.

Osamu rolled his eyes, “Shit, you’re right— can’t believe ya didn’t propose. Meeting Komori’s the real deal”.

“You know, if I wanted to hang out with the twin who’d be a pain in my ass, I would’ve called your brother”.

With a snort and a handsome grin, Osamu lightly bumped his shoulder against Suna’s. “Ya love us”, then his gaze softened as he took a swig from the bottle, “I’m just sayin’. Maybe a relationship is not what you need right now”.

“Then what do I need?”, despite a fiery remonstrance, Rintaro found himself leaning onto Osamu’s judgement. He’d always been very good at reading people, much like his brother, but Samu’s approach was always balanced and, most importantly, sincere. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was something he’s missing about himself, something that shined bright for his best friend to catch instead.

“A connection, dumbass”, Osamu lightly pat his shoulder, “it doesn’t have to be romantic. It definitely doesn’t have to be sexual. You need to find someone you can talk to”.

“I talk—”

“Someone who isn’t us. Not me, not ‘Tsumu”, he ignored Rintaro’s indignant scoff, “not Shinsuke, not Aran. You need to get out of your comfort zone with someone new. A stranger!”.

“A stranger? You want me to stop someone on the street and casually ask them to listen to whatever trauma is tied to my fear of flying?”.

“Start small”, Osamu’s eyes glinted with the excitement that a good idea usually brings, “try that app Bokuto was trying so hard to get Sakusa to download. Matchpal, was it?”.

“Sounds like a great way to have a fifty year old creep flash me with a dick pic. No, thank you”.

“I’d think about it. Ya know, we’re not getting any younger. Like ‘Tsumu said, you—”

“I should hurry up before I grow old with only my emotional unavailability to keep me company, I remember”, Rintaro finished his beer with a grimace. Osamu chuckled, eventually dropped the topic, but the suggestion remained unpleasantly hanging over his head both like a succulent fruit and a risky presage.

So now he’s slumped in the living room of the spacious apartment the EJP provides, a quiet Friday evening spent cooking some stew for dinner and facetiming his family. The tv is on as a distraction and an easy way out should things get uncomfortable. Surely Dwight will keep him grounded.

Suna’s already downloaded the app but it takes one episode and a half to muster the courage to actually tap on it. 

The interface is pretty easy to navigate. It seems he’s supposed to create a minimalist profile first and then he’d be free to start a new, random chat. Users can opt out anytime or, if they wish to keep a specific person as their anonymous match, add them as a friend and pin the conversation within their personal directory. Nothing too complicated.

Suna’s patience wears thin easily and after a few attempts at picking unavailable usernames, he settles for crysnoopy. Finally, original enough at last.

Since not revealing one’s identity seems to be the point of the entire thing, he can’t upload a profile picture and instead has to select one random avatar from the default library. He picks a cartoon frog with big eyes and no mouth on a light green background.

There he is, an anonymous online presence on a stupid app. His profile only contains a nickname, he/him pronouns, age and a cute icon. No interests listed, no boundaries, not a single space where he could leave a polite note— please don’t send unsolicited dick pics. Not that he ever plans on requesting one.

Suna starts a few new chats, faceless identities either ending the conversation right away upon his dry and unoriginal hey or being as odd as one would imagine strangers in an anonymous community could be.

Lavenderhaze

-> Hi.

Lavenderhaze

-> How are you?

He sinks deeper into the nice couch pillows Atsumu forced him to get.

crysnoopy

-> hey. all good, wbu?

Lavenderhaze

-> Good, bored.

Lavenderhaze

-> Should we exchange nudes or something?

Rintaro sighs. Hesitation is laced into the delay of his thumb but eventually he taps the skip option, Osamu’s ominous words still ringing loud and clear in his head. It’s not what he downloaded the dumb app for, it’s not what he needs right now. Fuck, maybe he really should’ve called Atsumu instead.

A new chat opens after a short loading time and his nose wrinkles when he realizes that he’ll probably have to send the first message this time. The username staring back at him is original enough to make Suna take a few seconds to think of something equally entertaining to say. The whole thing is never going to work if he doesn’t take it seriously and actually puts some effort in it, right?

He looks up from his phone for a second. Then, a loud ping makes him jump.

Unfinishedusernam

-> When you shower, do you actively wash your legs or just let soapy water rinse down on them?

Rintaro almost huffs out a laugh. Original username and approach? A good enough start to ignite the hope of finally be talking to someone sane.

crysnoopy

-> I don’t shower.

A beat passes, then the small animation of a hand idly scribbling with a pencil indicates that you’re typing something back.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s hot.

-> Why the username?

Suna’s lips twitch, not a smile but almost. He wants to type an equally sarcastic reply, brush the question off and maybe ask something more interesting instead. But then he remembers what he’s doing and forces an honest reply out of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> my little sister used to scream like an eagle when she cried, the one thing that always shut her up was a snoopy plush I won at the arcade.

Suna barely registers that his leg starts bouncing lightly as he watches the little hand appear on the screen once more.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m glad it’s something cute :)

-> Lowkey thought you were an incel

This time he really does snort out half a laugh.

crysnoopy

-> if I was I would’ve asked why your username is edging me.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fair. So… you do shower, right?

crysnoopy

-> I promise I do.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Damn, my incel detector has truly failed me.

-> You seem suspiciously normal btw, I feel like we could have a conversation that doesn't involve dicks

Suna’s hand blindly reaches for the remote to lower the volume of the show he currently doesn’t seem to need as additional emotional support.

crysnoopy

-> likewise. wanna make it official?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Jeez, at least buy me dinner first

Rintaro’s beat to it, before he can even click on the option there’s already a colorful notification popping up on his screen, informing that he has a new friend request.

He accepts it.

It took some convincing for Samu to agree but, eventually, the spot on the pull-out couch became his. Between Hyogo and Shizuoka, with imminent plans of further expanding in Tokyo, he’s always travelling to make sure the shops are keeping their top quality standard high. The Shizuoka branch is still too recent for him to retreat back to his hometown for good, so he’s there most of the time. Suna had to call him an idiot a million times before Osamu accepted his hospitality, never one to ask for anything, always first in line to help others instead. Suna thinks he still didn’t call him an idiot enough times.

They’re both gone most of the day anyway, between the restaurant and training. The season is about to start and the trip to Osaka feels more imminent than ever, Suna knows he has to be at the top of his game to perform exactly how he’s expected to. Which means, no distractions. He does a good job at avoiding those, dating apps left unopened and the way home now shorter than usual, to circumvent his favorite bakery. Those blueberry muffins will have to wait. Samu’s healthier alternative with gram oats and bananas is one hell of a substitute anyway.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. The house feels less empty when he’s around and there’s always a homemade meal tucked somewhere in the fridge. They share breakfast when they get up at the same time and night conversations at the kitchen table if Rintaro manages to stay awake late enough to wait for Osamu to be back.

But sometimes, being alone is easier. No explanations owed for the one distraction he seems unable to give up, no curious raise of the eyebrows he’d have to confront when the familiar ping from his phone prompts an immediate reaction the wrong twin would tease him endlessly for.

He’s always been a dry texter or so his friends, teammates and relatives have always told him. Suna didn’t ever think he was supposed to make an effort to become better at written communication, or communication in general. But now, there’s you. A faceless, perhaps not entirely sane someone who makes him check his notifications way too often, insides spasming when the message doesn’t come from one of his groupchats and the Matchpal icon flashes across the screen instead.

Suna likes talking to you, so much that he often finds himself being the one to text first. It’s okay if you’ll take hours to get back to him sometimes, he knows for certain that the message is eventually going to light up his screen and that’s enough to make him smile. Sometimes you text first, at either ungodly hours in the middle of the night or during the day, if you’re bored at work. He doesn’t know what your job is, you don’t know precisely what Suna does either because, again, anonymity. The only detail he’s familiar with is that you’re often around “wearing but rewarding humans”, as you’d once put it. The one thing you know about him is that he’s an athlete, something you had briefly teased him for.

When he’s not talking to you, when parts or even the entirety of days that used to belong to him and his routine alone are devoid of your messages, Suna finds himself thinking. Or rather, imagining. There’s a lot he doesn’t know and he refuses to overwhelm you with questions, therefore his mind desperately tries to fill in the gaps to no avail. Are you spending the evening reading a book, watching a tv show? Did you cook dinner or order takeout? How happy are you that it’s been raining for three days straight on a scale of ‘I can only function if it’s sunny and bright’ to ‘leave me in a storm and watch me flourish’ ?

Most times, Suna simply plugs the charging cable into is phone, switches off the bedside light and hopes to wake up to one of your texts. They seem to be making an increasingly dangerous difference between a good day and a bad one. He’s not entirely sure it’s ideal.

Unfinishedusernam

-> The humans are testing me today. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re having fun!

-> Ah, look what my mom baked yesterday. Told her I have a friend who’d love these :)

-> [IMG_65209]

Rintaro, elbows resting on his knees and towel haphazardly thrown around the neck, smiles at the screen. God, he hasn’t had a blueberry muffin in over a month, but what he’s really focusing on is that you’ve mentioned him. To your mom. There’s a low, static buzz in his ears now, punctuated by the thumps of his heart growing louder. It makes you feel more real, it also makes something simmer in his stomach.

crysnoopy

-> I’m at training.

-> They look really good. Send me one immediately. How was family dinner?

He’s enabled auto-capitalization for the first time in his life, for god’s sake. The Inarizaki groupchat was so disturbed Atsumu decided to apply the same additional authenticator method used by his online banking and forced Suna to reply to a secret question. One only the real Suna would know the answer to.

He successfully demonstrated the needed personal knowledge concerning the color of Aran’s lucky underwear in high school and thus confirmed his identity.

Unfinishedusernam

-> It was nice! I love spending time with them

-> How’s training?

Rintaro finds himself wanting to give his identity shape too. It’s the first time he’s seen your hand, holding that tupperware underneath the dim light of your mom’s kitchen. He wants to feel more real for you, too.

He snaps a picture of his hand holding a half-empty water bottle, careful to hide his shoes. Not that you’d be able to immediately tell he plays volleyball from those, but just in case. You do get to see part of his legs though, shorts and their very recognizable colors kept out of frame.

crysnoopy

-> [IMG_65209]

-> Almost done, very tired

He watches as the little hand scribbles, then stops. It resumes the writing, then stops once more. His leg is bouncing again, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He straight up jumps when, suddenly, someone loudly falls on the empty spot next to him and the bench creaks.

“We’re on a roll today, my blocks are almost as good as yours”, Washio grins, temples shining with sweat. He briefly glances down at the phone Suna almost drops when it vibrates against his palm.

“You okay?”.

“Yes”, Rintaro clears his throat, makes a show of shoving the phone right back into his bag, “you’re in shape today. Motoya too”.

“Ready for Osaka!”, Komori fist-bumps Tatsuki right before sitting next to him with an exaggerated groan, “hey, is your friend still in town? The Miya twin. We could go out tonight, get some drinks”.

“We literally leave in three days”, Suna’s fist lightly lands on his teammate’s head.

“Mocktails”, Motoya sticks his tongue out.

“I feel like I already see your faces enough. And I’m about to see them even more”.

“Rintaro don’t be a grumpy asshole, challenge once again failed”, Tatsuki rolls his eyes, “you’re always glued to that damn phone when you’re not playin’. Let’s go out, have fun, possibly get laid?”.

Suna sighs heavily. “Fine. I wanted to visit Samu’s new shop anyway, we can have dinner and take him with us afterwards”. He should get Osamu a gift, a nice plant or a maneki-neko. He’ll stop by a few shops on the way home, he decides.

“Now you’re talking!”, Washio smacks his shoulder with way too much energy, “let’s ask Nagito too, he’s gonna love some free onigiri!”.

“Hey, we’re payin’ for those”.

“Sure we are!”.

“I’m serious, you ass—”

“That’s enough gossiping, boys. Get back to work!”, by muscle memory, their legs react to coach’s boisterous voice and all three men jump up from their seats. Suna spends the rest of the late afternoon training thinking about the text message hidden in his gym bag.

It’s way past 6PM when training ends, the last half an hour was spent studying opponent videos and then simulating different match scenarios. Suna’s brain feels fried and on any other day he’d be so ready to get a massage, eat a well-balanced dinner and melt on his couch in front of a good tv show until his eyelids would grow heavy.

Instead, he takes the long way home, legs heavy as he explores different shops in search for the perfect gift. He settles for a very beautiful, handmade, porcelain maneki-neko, left paw raised instead of the right one because Suna knows Osamu will always care about having more customers who trust his restaurant rather than having more money.

The shop owner puts the gift in an elegant box and seals the bag with a delicate ribbon, he thanks the old lady with a deep bow and despite his limbs feeling heavy with fatigue, as he breathes in the cool air of the evening, Suna is content. He thinks of the message sitting pretty in his pocket as he heads home.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You have really nice hands

He didn’t open it, not yet. It’s reassuring to have the notification sitting there, untouched and polished against his lockscreen.

It shouldn’t matter that a stranger on an app is complimenting his hands, it really shouldn’t. Then why does it, somehow? Suna is happy you find his hands nice, which feels like a recipe for disaster. As he walks past his favorite bakery, he remembers you mentioning how you enjoy grabbing croissants for breakfast at times. When he told you that he was about to leave for a retreat with his team, after asking if their destination was one among Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohama, you proceeded to list all your favorite cafes, bakeries and restaurants for each of them. Just in case he had the time and wanted to check them out. As much as he tries to keep his distance, something as trivial as mentioning the correct city possibly resulting too risky, you always seem to go out of your way to reach closer. Taking the time to prepare three separate lists of suggestions while simultaneously respecting his boundaries is an effort he deems… unexpected. It feels weird in the best way. He almost wants to tell you it’s Osaka after all, give you something real, something new to hold on to. Maybe he’ll even tell you it’s volleyball.

“Coming home from another bad date?”, the unexpected quip startles Suna as he looks up from the sidewalk to find his not so friendly neighbor directing a saccharine smile at him, trash bags in hand. Not too long ago, he would’ve asked if she needed help with those.

“At least I still go on dates”, he purposefully eyes her attire, hoodie and sweatpants. Suna knows she’s just trying to annoy him, she can see the gym bag.

“With women who are blind, deaf, mute and desperate?”, she offers a sly smile and he rolls his eyes.

“That’s not a very flattering description of yourself, now”.

She huffs out a sarcastic laugh but Suna can see right through it: the irritation and the embarrassment.

“Always a pleasure running into you, Suna”.

“Likewise”, he smirks, “careful with those bags”.

Suna says goodbye with an unbothered wave of the hand despite her giving him the finger, positively happy that for a good while the chances of running into his neighbor will be reduced to zero. Osaka can’t come fast enough.

The thing is, he was surprised she lived so close when they first started chatting on a regular dating app. When Suna confirmed they were essentially in the same neighborhood, she was the one to propose a dinner right away.

Truthfully, it had been a bad day for him, for a number of reasons. Training was terrible, he was worried sick about his little sister’s sprained ankle, his own tendinitis was giving him hell and Atsumu had decided to call him to talk his ear off for an entire hour about the surprise party they were supposed to throw for Kita’s birthday. Yet, he didn’t feel like bailing on his date, so he forced himself out of the house with the worst mood.

Dinner was terrible. Awkward, tense, her growing increasingly impatient about his lack of responsiveness, him snapping at the tiniest, dumbest inputs. The entire night ended up being such a disaster she left halfway through her creamy salmon pasta, a few banknotes tucked underneath a glass of water, enough to pay half the bill. He remembers deflating in his seat, feeling terrible for five minutes, finishing his own dinner and then leaving as if nothing happened.

Suna thought about texting, maybe even apologizing, but he just never found it in himself to actually do it. It was just a bad date, bad dates happen. He’d never seen her before, or maybe simply didn’t pay enough attention to notice her presence, so there was no way he could’ve anticipated just how fucking often he’d run into her from that day onwards. She never failed to remind him of her resentment and, frankly, that ended up igniting his.

Of course Osamu’s leftovers are on his kitchen counter, neatly wrapped in tin foil. He remembers how hungry he’d feel after training, so when he knows Suna’s going to be busy until the late afternoon, he always makes sure to cook an extra portion.

Rintaro lets the gym bag fall onto the floor, right next to the couch he drops on with a groan. He’s already showered, he simply needs to change clothes and head out once more. When he checks the latest messages, his brows furrow in confusion.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still at training?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck, sorry, that was probably weird.  

Unfinishedusernam

-> I really didn’t mean to sound like a creep

Suna really, actually smiles at his screen. You’re insecure about complimenting him, which is sweet. He should’ve complimented you first.

crysnoopy

-> Just got home

-> You didn’t sound like a creep, I like your hands too :)

His heartbeat picks up in pace when the hand starts scribbling shortly after, indicating that you’re online and were probably waiting for his reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Ugh, see? Now you feel like you’re forced to compliment me

crysnoopy

-> No I don’t?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Liar. Here, if you’re sincere, compliment these.

-> [IMG_98279]

A laugh bubbles from his throat when he opens the picture of your feet in a pair of fuzzy fox slippers.

crysnoopy

-> They’re beautiful. I’d kill to have an identical pair

-> So you have nice hands and cool slippers, good to know.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re a flirt in your everyday life, aren’t you?

Once again, Suna hesitates. He is, clearly he is. In all likelihood, if he knew you in real life, he would be. You’re nice, intelligent, funny, someone he can easily see himself being interested in. But it’s not what he downloaded the app for, he shouldn’t wander in flirty territory, he really shouldn’t.

crysnoopy

-> Only if they own a pretty set of slippers

When has he ever been good at following judicious advice?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Knew it. Flirt.

-> Can I ask you something?

crysnoopy

-> Ask away

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why are you on this app?

He sighs. Flirty territory is easier than honesty territory. A quick glance at the clock on his kitchen wall instills a sense of urgency as he types a reply, as raw and sincere as it gets.

crysnoopy

-> I wanted to find out if I could open up to strangers more than I do with people I actually know

He really fucking hopes Osamu is proud. Let it be known that he’s trying.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Do you think you could open up to me?

Suna exhales from his nose. This is definitely not the type of conversation he wanted to have while on a rush.

crysnoopy

-> Maybe

-> I’d like that.

He waits for a few seconds, chat gone silent. Maybe you logged off, maybe you don’t know how to reply, either way Suna feels a weight lifting from his chest. It’s true, he thinks he might have a deeper conversation with you of all people. A faceless someone who sends him pictures of stray cats and nice sunsets, who makes him smile at silly jokes. He shortly wonders if you’d like to open up to him in the same way, if being vulnerable will ever be on the table. For now, he’s okay with simply letting you know.

Osaka ends up being extra motivating.

The EJP Raijin players have been training hard, religiously respecting their schedules: there’s no time for slacking off, days punctuated by a disciplined sleep routine, physical and tactical training, cool-down exercises, refuelling afternoons and evenings spent cross-training. The synergy within the team is off the charts, they have won every single practice match played so far and the excitement is palpable as the game with the Black Jackals approaches.

Their training sessions are usually shorter. Atsumu insists it’s because they’re in better shape, Suna’s almost punched him in the face over dinner.

When he’s not too exhausted, against all odds, he enjoys spending some time with old friends and acquaintances. He knows it’s going to be a difficult game, Sakusa is a pain in the ass to block and Inunaki, their libero, is very talented. But he thinks he’s ready.

As they stroll through the city when their free days or breaks coincide, Suna is sometimes hit with pangs of a sentiment not entirely foreign. Nostalgia, regret? He can never tell for certain. He misses having his friends around, being in the same place at all times, travelling less. As he thinks of Osamu currently being the only occupant of his large, painfully empty apartment, while he shares a portion of takoyaki with an ever annoyingly loud Atsumu, when he listens to Bokuto enthusiastically detail his relationship with Keiji, he thinks he’s missing out on too many things and he’s past feeling unperturbed about it.

“Shoyo says he’s very happy in Brazil, asked us to visit soon. Ya should come”, Atsumu lightly bumps Suna’s shoulder with his as they walk by the river, in search of a good viewing spot. The colorful procession carrying portable shrines is quickly filling up the boats to be paraded up and down the Okawa river. While it’s still early for fireworks, oh and bunraku performances are about to begin on different stage boats, and the air is filled with fragrances coming from the endless rows of festival food stalls. What an unexpected fortune, to be in town for the Tenjin Matsuri.

“Not gonna crash on your friend’s couch”, Suna’s peremptory tone makes Atsumu roll his eyes.

“Why are you being so pissy today? What’s up, scared you’re gonna lose?”.

Rintaro searches for something in his friend’s annoyingly familiar, limpid gaze as Bokuto snickers next to him. He finds his own affection, honed by years of joint quarrels, reflected in it.

“Rin?”, Atsumu’s worried now, head slightly tilted to the side. Suna offers a tiny smile.

“Do you ever miss Hyogo?”.

“No”, the answer comes quick, “I miss my family, I miss my friends. Yer ugly face especially. Places are just places”, he shrugs and Suna feels his shoulders relax.

“We’re lucky, we still get to catch up”, Bokuto smiles, “it’s okay to feel sad sometimes though”.

“I’m not sad”, Suna grimaces, “t’was just a question. Shut up”.

“Aw, don’t be shy! Keiji always says owning how we really feel is important”, Bokuto offers him one of his dangos and he begrudgingly takes it.

“I feel like… you should shut up”, he gruffs out. Atsumu snickers at that and Bokuto pouts. Suna doesn’t pay attention to any of them, too preoccupied with taking a decent picture of the boats. He wonders if he’ll be able to make the fireworks look as pretty as they’re in real life, to show them to you.

He doesn’t care that you’ll know where he is, it isn’t but a small part of himself he wishes to unravel for you. It’s what you two have been doing, no? Occasionally sending each other messages that go beyond jokes and memes. You now know he has twins as friends, just how much he loves his little sister, his favorite dish. Suna knows you live close to your family and visit them as often as possible, that you always bring a can of tuna in your bag should you come across stray cats on the way to work. He knows you’re scared of the dark and can’t look at blood without feeling dizzy. You’re trusting, extremely indecisive, a fierce procrastinator, you spend too much time on tiktok and are scared to death you’re not going to be able to keep those who are important to you in your life, forever. Suna gets it, really.

He hasn’t been able to say much, you opened up to him as if it was nothing and he still can’t bring himself to share much more than comforting words and feeble details. Who cares if he likes yakisoba? He hates how detached he feels from everyone else. He feels lonely. He wishes he still lived in the same town as his friends. Sometimes he goes to sleep with the tv left on, to simulate someone else’s presence in a cold, empty apartment. He misses his family, like, all the time. The thought of getting on a plane paralizes him. He doesn’t think he’s good enough at volleyball, his team may lose and it would be his fault. He doesn’t think he’s good enough.

“Taking cute pics for your mystery girl?”, Atsumu grins widely. Suna keeps a composed facade, calmly snaps a few additional shots, but internally he’s screaming. It’s his fault for expecting a twin to keep a secret, really.

“How d’you know they’re not for my instagram?”.

“You haven’t updated your feed in a year”, Bokuto points at his phone screen, sunarin profile open to prove a point. Rintaro almost snatches it from his hand to throw it into the river below.

“She’s not my girl”, he grumbles instead, “just a random person I talk to. It was Osamu’s idea”.

“It was a good idea. I’ve been trying to get Kiyoomi on that app too, you’re both so closed off”.

On any other occasion, Suna would’ve denied that and retorted with an abrasive remark. Not this time, though.

“Yeah. Trying to improve there”, he huffs, to which Atsumu’s ready-to-take-the-piss expression softens.

“Right. So how is she? Can’t remember the last time you texted with a stranger for more than a week before they were either ghosted or became your girlfriend”.

“She’s okay. I don’t know much”.

“Everyone on Matchpal is anonymous”, Kotaro fills in Atsumu’s knowledge gaps.

“She has to be more than okay if you’ve been talking for over a month”, the older Miya insists, prodding mercilessly at Suna’s discretion.

“She’s funny”, he finally concedes, “and smart. Makes opening up to a stranger look too easy”.

“Smart? Okay, ya definitely wouldn’t be her type then”, part of the tightness in Suna’s chest dissipates as his fist collides with Atsumu’s arm.

“I think that’s the point, though. You don’t know each other and will never meet, so you can admit things you wouldn’t normally mention. Be vulnerable”, Bokuto finishes his dangos and crumples up the small disposable cardboard box they came with.

“Yes but at this point she doesn’t really feel like a stranger anymore”, Suna pauses after saying that out loud, surprised by his own words. When has he stopped considering you a faceless someone on a random app, exactly? He realizes he’s given you a voice in his head. A smile he imagines reacting to his lame jokes, when he deflects tentative personal questions. He’s given you a routine, shared most of his. You don’t feel like a stranger anymore but you’re not exactly a friend. What are you, then?

“Uh-oh”, it takes a moment to realize that the teasing sound comes from Bokuto. Crap.

“And we could meet”, Suna pushes, “Shizuoka is not that big”.

“She’s from Shizuoka? Christ”, Atsumu lets out a low whistle, “does she know you live in the same city?”.

“She never asked”, if the justification sounds odd, his friends are kind enough not to point it out. He doubts Osamu would be as lenient. Truth is, he didn’t ask either: after some time, you had just randomly disclosed the information, probably because you perceived him as a very discrete person. Which, for the record, he is.

“I’m going to ask you this question just once. Do ya like this girl?”.

“No”, obviously not, “I don’t even know her”.

“Oh? But you just said she doesn’t feel like a stranger?”, Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up.

Suna sighs. His limbs feel heavy but it’s a different feeling than the one he gets after practice, more draining.

“He’ll figure it out”, the weight of Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder feels weirdly comforting.

I don’t know what she feels like, Suna wants to say. He settles for saying nothing, as the hold on his shoulder grows tighter for a split second.

Coach is going to have an earful ready for Motoya if he doesn’t show up on time at practice, in the morning. He’s still out celebrating-drinking with other teammates, their first Tenjin Matsuri an excuse good enough to be late. Suna doesn’t mind having the hotel room to himself for the evening, a welcome novelty: he just hopes he won’t have to drag his friend out of bed the following day.

His hair is still wet, the bed way too comfortable to consider getting dressed. You, a distraction that fills his stomach with fuzzy warmth, something that for a second makes him forget why his phone has been exploding with notifications.

It’s that stupid instagram post he decided to share after a year of semi hiatus, online presence proven only by the occasional story he’d upload. Suna feels particularly caught in his feelings today, so why not post the selfie Atsumu took by the river? His comment is pinned at the top of the section, with over 8k likes.

miyatsumu brothers ❤️

Bokuto left a heart too, Samu and Kita some of their usual simple but genuine comments. Love you guys. Miss you :). It’s easy for them, a skill he wants to master as well. It’s not enough for the people in his life to simply know that he loves them, Suna wants tell them more.

He takes a look at other comments, smiling faces with heart-eyes emojis and inappropriate compliments from strangers that make him laugh. He shortly wonders what your instagram looks like. Filled with pictures of you with your friends and family, no doubt. A feed that showcases your favorite food and places, creative outfits, witty captions and sometimes no captions at all. It’d fit you.

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Osaka!!!!

-> Fuck I’m so jealous, I never got to see the festival :( did you have fun?

crysnoopy

-> I did. Some old friends are in town too, we’re playing against each other soon

Unfinishedusernam

-> Your friends are also athletes???

-> Now I feel bad, this is literally how I’m spending the evening

-> [IMG_62371]

Suna smiles upon opening the picture. You’re sitting on your couch and the hand not holding the phone is doing a V sign, a lidded tray balanced on your legs, tv channel set on a show he’s never been interested in. The lights are dim, the room doesn’t seem too big but it feels so cozy. The way a home should feel. He sees a coffee table and some lit candles by the tv unit.

crysnoopy

-> Looks like a perfect evening to me

Unfinishedusernam

-> I only walked 200 steps today.

crysnoopy

-> I’m like trying really hard to find something nice to say

-> Every morning is an opportunity to create a masterpiece called life?

-> Stop surviving, start thriving?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck you for making me laugh, I almost dropped my dinner

He laughs as well, out loud, then double taps your message to like it so that you know he’s still acknowledging it, despite something more urgent suddenly prompting the quick movement of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> Hey, remember when we talked about how you’re really scared of losing the people you love?

Suna can almost sense your surprise, it’s evident in the way the little scribbling hand appears and disappears repeatedly as you probably try to think of something appropriate to say.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Yeah?

crysnoopy

-> I feel that too

-> Most days I wake up thinking I’m a bad person

Another pause. This must be the most exposed he’s ever felt and Suna is grateful your replies are not as fast as they usually are because his hands are suddenly cold, palms clammy and disgusting.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why do you think that?

crysnoopy

-> I don’t do enough to show how I feel and one day that could make them leave

-> Maybe stability isn’t for me and that scares me

-> I get bored easily, I don't want to commit. What if what’s regular, easy for everyone else will never be my thing?

Well, that’s a whole lot of fucking baggage he just dropped on you. His first instinct is to apologize, to ask you to just forget it, deflect with some joke about having had too much to drink and being in his feels. But he doesn’t do that. Why? What makes him want to trust you with all that? Perhaps it’s just curiosity, wanting to find out what a complete stranger would think of the thoughts that eat him alive at night. Maybe he’s hoping for some miraculous solution offered on a silver plate. Or he just wants to check if he’s able to even do the whole being vulnerable thing in the first place.

Your response comes after a couple minutes and Suna doesn’t remember the last time he felt so nervous.

Unfinishedusernam

-> How did you meet your current friends?

He furrows his brows.

crysnoopy

-> Most of them I met in school

Unfinishedusernam

-> So they made the conscious decision of being your friends every single day, all this time

-> Btw getting bored easily is okay. A bad person wouldn’t be asking those questions about himself :)

-> You can always work on what you want to improve

crysnoopy

-> You make it sound too easy

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes it really is tho

-> You’re not too late, you know. Tell your friends that you love them, tell your family that you miss them

Unfinishedusernam

-> It doesn’t have to be easy right away

-> You get to make your own regular. Create your new normal

Suna exhales, reads your messages over and over again. It’s oddly comforting realizing that he is, in fact, not too late yet. Why does he always think that he is?

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I think you’ll find a person you’ll want to commit to

-> That’s what I tell myself after all my failed dates anyway lol

-> Remember, be the change that you wish to see on tinder

Suna snorts, heart lighter in the hotel room he sits alone in. He could get drunk on the relief suddenly filling his chest, it feels like the touch of a cool hand over a feverish forehead.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still there?

crysnoopy

-> I’m here

How could he not be?

crysnoopy

-> Thank you

Unfinishedusernam

-> How’s opening up to a stranger feel? :)

Good, if the stranger is you. Apparently.

crysnoopy

-> Mysteriously comforting

-> How are you failing those dates? Do I have to beat anyone up?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Nah

-> It just seems the guys I’m into are never into me

crysnoopy

-> That sucks for them

It really, truly, actually does. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt as comfortable sharing something so personal over text, it’s all so natural Suna is convinced he’d be able to do that in person as well. How would it feel to meet you? Would the magic wear out, is this so easy only because an anonymous profile on a silly app?

Sure, Suna doesn’t know your name or what you look like, but that doesn’t make you a stranger. He knows you enough for the words to almost spill out of his hands, words that press threateningly against the pads of his fingers.

He’d be into you. He’d date you. That’s what he wants to say: there’s no need to know how you look or the name printed on some documents, he knows enough. It’s a weird feeling that scares him and clouds his mind for a brief moment, as he waits for your reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s sweet of you to say!

-> Last time I went out with a guy I really liked it was a disaster

-> He also lived pretty close to me, thank god he moved now

crysnoopy

-> Well, joke’s on him. He’s missing out big time

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop being cute, I’ll fall for you

Suna takes a sharp breath. Reading the words does something funny to his stomach, something Atsumu would tease him for.

Shit, Atsumu. The game is so close. When’s the last time volleyball disappeared from his brain like that, with the snap of invisible fingers? Can he afford being this distracted?

Unfinishedusernam

-> This dinner fucking slaps btw

-> They opened a new place in my city, add that to the list of spots you have to visit if you swing by shizuoka

-> It’s called onigiri miya

Suna chokes on his own spit so badly he thinks he’s gonna die as he abruptly sits up, coughing fit that brings tears to his eyes. He stares at his screen in disbelief, sudden reminder of how tangible and close you actually are burning like a slap in the face.

Samu picks up after a few rings, it’s late enough for him to be either still in the shop or getting out of the shower.

“Hey, what’s up? Saw your pic with that scrub—”

“Did a girl come to the shop today?”, the question is uttered with so much urgency the line goes silent for a few seconds.

“My day was great, thanks for asking! I’m okay, eating dinner on your couch right now”, the fake singsong tone makes him roll his eyes.

“I’m sorry, this is an emergency. She just told me she was at your shop today”.

“Really? Did she like it?”.

“Osamu”.

He chuckles lightly.

“Okay. First, please tell me why we care so much that she came to the shop today?”.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. Sometimes he wishes he was close enough to be punched in the face. “Stop being a dick”.

“Fine. A girl did come to the shop today”, Suna’s heart almost stops, “… along with a million others”, he deflates against the pillow once again, defeated. He knows it’s something he really shouldn’t do but he still sends the picture to Osamu, slightly cropped to leave out everything that’s not useful to the investigation. The two things his friend gets to see are your dinner and a V sign.

There’s a pause, one Rintaro swears is filled by the loud pounding of his restless heart.

“I know who she is”, Osamu speaks quietly, in a tone that leaves no room for sarcasm.

“What?”, Suna’s voice comes out thin, incredulous.

“I remember her. Came in as I was about to close the shop, bowed and begged for whatever leftovers I might’ve had. She looked like she had a horrible day, so I just…”.

“Put something together for her”, as you always do.

“Yeah! I usually don’t use those trays but I didn’t have any of the regular ones left”.

“Well, how is she?”, Suna cringes at the impatience vibrating in his voice, it makes him sound desperate. Osamu hums, it’s a voluntarily prolonged sound that makes him scoff.

“She’s really sweet. Apologized a million times, left a generous tip. I think you’d like her”.

“Yeah?”.

“Yeah, Rin”, he’s smiling, “I also think you should tell her”.

“Tell her what?”.

“That you want to meet her, dumbass”.

Suna runs a hand through his now dried hair, lightly ruffles it. This feels dangerously real now, something he could grasp if he so much as decided to hold out a hand. You’re so close. There’s something else simmering underneath the fear and Rintaro recognizes it easily. It’s an almost forgotten eagerness that he’s not entirely stranger to.

“Samu”.

“Hmm?”, he’s smiling again. The asshole.

“I think I like her”.

“No shit”, Osamu full on laughs now, jovial and relieved. Despite the annoyance, Suna feels the exact same way.

Shizuoka seemed different upon his return, an endless pool of possibilities where something would inevitably remind Suna of you. He’d made peace with the fact that he had a crush on someone he’s never met and with that truth also came an endless list of associations his brain couldn’t help but make.

Texting you first, whenever he wanted, became natural. What’s more, it was almost as if you were encouraged by his newly loosened state, that one evening in Osaka opening the floodgates of something else, something different. You trusted him with your most intimate thoughts and so did he. There was no more wondering if you were bothering each other or texting at an unconvenient time. You’d once told him you felt self-conscious about that specifically.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes I feel like I’m too much

-> Would you tell me if I was too much?

crysnoopy

-> What do you mean?

Unfinishedusernam

-> You know, if I was pestering you

crysnoopy

-> You’re not too much

-> And even if you were, I could handle you :)

You were the happiest when he had told you they’d won the game in Osaka. Heck, you baked blueberry muffins (“to celebrate!”) and asked him to go get himself one so you could pretend he was there to eat yours. And Suna did: he got up from his bed, grabbed a jacket, put on some running shoes and made his way to his favorite bakery with a dopey smile on his face. He then suggested a toast and, what a coincidence, you happened to have a bottle of white wine left unopened for the longest time. The occasion seemed worthy.

And so you both ate and drank and celebrated until his cheeks felt hot and your texts started lacking proper grammar. Suna remembers how it felt, slumped on his couch, lights low and mind dizzy as his eyes blinked and blinked and then blinked again while the message sat on his screen, black against white. He just stared at it, not entirely able to discern reality from fictitious.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I wish you were here

-> I’d probly just kiss you

Suna remembers staring at his screen as a wild joy exploded in his heart and took over his entire chest, scorching and vibrant like festival fireworks. He stared at it for so long he still doesn’t quite recall if he wrote the reply or if the reply wrote itself, because the only other solid memory in relation to that moment is drifting off with an empty bottle of wine precariously balanced on his lap.

He woke up the next morning with a sour taste in his mouth, a throbbing headache and sore neck. His phone had fallen to the floor and when he picked it up, it was with a heavy heart that he noticed you hadn’t replied.

crysnoopy

-> I want nothing more

-> I’m from shizuoka too. let’s make it happen?

It wasn’t unusual for one of you to leave the other on read and it wasn’t like Suna to hyperfixate on not receiving a reply but this time, for some reason, it felt different.

As he got up with a groan and shuffled to his bathroom to take a shower, a strange feeling of dread strangled his body from the inside, his mind running a million miles a minute. Were you disgusted? Mad, that he had kept his location a secret? That would’ve been unfair, though, and you had always proved to respect his boundaries. Maybe it was all a joke, then. You thought of all that flirting as nothing short of a game, something stupid to pass the time with a stranger online. Something that wasn’t real. Worse, something you’d never want to be real, especially if given the chance to make that happen. Fuck.

Suna succeeded in keeping himself fairly busy for a few hours that day: he cleaned his whole apartment, did some meal prep, called his mom, called his sister, even called Atsumu. Your silence kept throbbing at the edges of each minute, it became so unbearable he ended up sending you a picture of an aspirin package with a funny caption, to test the waters.

You never replied. Not that day, not the following day, a week later your chat is still painfully empty. Or rather, filled with all the messages he’s sent before giving up.

crysnoopy

-> Killer headache town, population: me

crysnoopy

-> How are you feeling?

crysnoopy

-> Hey, everything ok?

crysnoopy

-> I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

-> I was really tipsy, I didn’t mean it

crysnoopy

-> Or at least I didn’t mean to sound so pushy.

-> I’d never pressure you into doing anything, let alone meet me

crysnoopy

-> I’ll give you space if you need it, can you just please tell me that you’re okay? It’s been three days

crysnoopy

-> Okay. I’ll be here if you ever come back.

He’s so mad at you. Weren’t you the first one coming forward with all that stuff about wanting to kiss him? Why would you disappear? He’s apologized, what else can he do? Was it all seriously worth so little to you?

Suna feels as if the days are longer now, training unbearable. Instead of keeping his mind occupied, all it does is remind him of how badly his blocks suck lately. He doesn’t pick up when Osamu calls, he’d read everything there’s to read in his seemingly inexpressive tone. He’s mad at himself, for not noticing how stupidly attached he’d become. Is it normal to miss you so badly? He doesn’t remember the last time he missed someone just as much. The world is cruel in relentlessly reminding him of you: an advert you’d find funny, that movie you’d recently discussed making a comeback in cinemas, sunsets painting the sky in orange and lilacs so similar to the ones you’d send him, a pair of fuzzy fox slippers on display in a shop window on the way to the gym.

The toxic part of his brain is ruthless in reminding him that this is why he refuses to open up to new people. That this is why he never lets himself be actually vulnerable and simply plays along: it’s because he’d be left with nothing but mockery, humiliation and loneliness.

But Rintaro doesn’t want to give that part of his brain any more solidity. What he wants, is to be proud of himself. Relieved, even. He wants to feel happy for having been brave enough to take a risk, to trust, to open up. He wants to relish in the joy that the brief encounter with you, anonymous and all, gave him. So what if you never come back or talk to him again? That’s on you. He’ll miss you for a good while, will probably always wonder what you’re up to from time to time, but he’ll be okay. You gave him much more than what you’re probably aware of and truth is, he’s grateful. He just hopes you’ll always be okay too, he hopes life will treat you well. He hopes you don’t regret trusting him with your most intimate thoughts, ever.

It’s not like he doesn’t reread some of your messages, to keep himself company. The most recent ones still have the not entirely pleasant effect of twisting his insides. He’ll have to delete that folder of screenshots eventually.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m so glad I stumbled over you on this stupid app btw

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re sweet, snoopy :)

Unfinishedusernam

-> Today was shit

-> Sometimes I think about how it’d be to have you here, at the end of shitty days

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop flirting with me, it’s working

Unfinishedusernam

-> I feel so slilly

-> can you evne like someone you nevee met?

Turns out, you really can. He just never fully got around to telling you properly.

And then, one day, Suna’s blocks don’t suck anymore. In fact, they’re just as good as they’ve always been. He speaks with Osamu on the phone, a little bummed that his friend doesn’t have another trip to Shizuoka planned anytime soon: the shop is doing great, his presence is no longer required as often.

“I’ll miss you”, Rintaro still remembers the stunned silence following his words, “come back soon, shop or not”.

The younger Miya twin paused his ministrations, hands sticky with rice, and offered a surprised chuckle, “I’ll be back. Ya can also take a train every now and then, ya know?”.

“Maybe I will. Hey, next time you plan a trip to Osaka, can I come too?”.

“Hell yeah. I wouldn’t have to endure that dickhead alone”.

He talks to Kita and Aran way more these days: when he thinks of one of his friends, he simply grabs the phone and reaches out with a text, a meme or a funny reel. It seems to make them happy.

When his mom tells him that Kaori has been relentlessly asking about visiting her older brother, Suna assures her that he isn’t too busy to accomodate her for a week or for however long she wants to stay. Even if he was, he’d make it work. His mom clicks her tongue, gives her approval for a weekend only, less her daughter falls behind her homework even more. He grins when he hears Kaori scream MAKE IT TWO WEEKENDS in the distance.

Suna hasn’t seen his little sister in months and despite their relationship being exhaustingly conflictual (they are way too similar to each other and she gets a kick out of pissing him off), he loves her deeply and she trusts him just as much. Sometimes being home without him can become a lot and it’s not like she ever directly admits it but he’s pretty sure Kaori misses him, the little gremlin.

He was already 14 when she was born and little Rintaro had faced the news of a new addition to the family (a female, no less!) with infinite crankiness. He huffed and puffed and complained about having to share a room and a bathroom throughout his mom’s entire pregnancy, then a pink little bundle of dark hair and eardrum demolishing shrieks held his pointer finger in her tiny fist for the first time and he swore to guard her with his life, forever.

Suna wakes up extra early to clean the bathroom and his room, which he’s going to give to his sister, and make it girl-appropriate. He always goes on a tiny shopping spree before she visits: kitchen cabinets are now filled with her favorite snacks, there’s a colorful set of strawberry handcream, lotion and lip balm on his nightstand, a sweatsuit set neatly folded on his bed, the expensive vanilla body scrub their mom wouldn’t get her sits pretty in the shower.

He texts her before heading out for practice, demands she keeps him updated about her position. Kaori send a thumbs up and the picture of the blurred view outside the train window.

Unfortunately, as it often happens, coach announces the team is required to stay longer than he had anticipated and Suna doesn’t dare explain that he’s actually in a terrible rush because Motoya has been playing like shit and, of course, that becomes everyone’s problem.

“Get it together, man”, he hisses, way less patient than usual. Komori pouts.

“I’m trying”.

“Try harder!”, Washio snickers from the other side of the court.

It’s not until an hour later that Suna can dash through the gym doors, already forty minutes late to the appointment his sister had agreed on in the morning. When he notified her about the extra training, she didn’t falter.

-> No worries, I’ll find the house.

The train station isn’t at all far from his apartment, a mere 15-minute walk, but Kaori hasn’t visited in a few months and she’s not exactly known for her acute sense of direction. She’d get lost in her own house if it wasn’t impossible to achieve that in a small two bedroom apartment.

“Why is your damn phone going to voicemail?”, Suna grumbles to himself in the middle of the street, torn between running to the station or straight home. It’s not dark yet but the sun has set and Kaori knows very well the one thing she’s never allowed to do is turn her phone off, especially if him or their mom are not aware of where she is.

Right as he decides to head to the train station first, he hears her voice. There’s someone taller with her, which makes the hairs behind his neck stand up right away.

“Kaori!”, he damn nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes towards his sister in the opposite direction, gym bag almost falling off his shoulder while she chats with god knows who without a care in the world.

“Rin”, she stops right in her tracks, “sorry, kinda got los—”

“Why the hell is your phone turned off?”, as if to underline his point, he impatiently taps on his phone screen a few times, another call interrupted by immediately going straight to voicemail. He only now realizes how breathless he sounds.

“Battery died, I forgot my charger at home”, Kaori juts her bottom lip out. She’s the spitting image of her brother. “I was lucky to meet your friend right outside the station”, she looks up and so does he, features morphing into a horrified expression. Out of all people.

“You… what?”, Suna doesn’t know what to say. Was his neighbor even capable of smiling like that?

“It was nothing! We had fun, didn’t we?”.

Kaori nods. “We fed some stray cats on the way here. It’s so weird that you had canned fish in your bag, though”.

“I always carry some! Didn’t you see how hungry Mochi was?”.

For the following seconds, Suna is incapable of uttering another word. It becomes weird enough for his neighbor to wave a hand in front of his face, brows furrowed.

“Suna?”.

“Yeah”, he replies on autopilot, “Yes. I mean, thank you. Kaori, let’s go”, he eyes his sister’s large, pink, glittery backpack. Hanging from his neighbor’s shoulder.

“Uh, actually”, his sister coughs.

“What now?”.

“I kinda need to use the bathroom”.

“You can use it at home? It’s a ten minute walk from here, let’s get going”.

“I kinda need to use it now”.

“Kaori”, he sighs, “it’s ten minutes”.

“I live right here”, the woman from his nightmares indicates the house behind her, “wanna make a pit stop?”.

“Absolutely not”, Suna clears his throat, “she can hold it”.

“She can’t”, Kaori shrinks in herself a little, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Fine, I guess we are making a pit stop”, he mutters and his sister exhales in relief, grabs his neighbor by the sleeve and urges her to open the door, quick quick quick please.

Suna watches his sister dash upstairs with a snort as he takes her backpack. It’s heavy as a rock. The hell did she put in there?

“You’re not gonna catch fire if you come in, you know”, his neighbor fixes him with a sarcastic glare as she takes off her shoes, letting her own bag fall to the floor.

“Sorry for the trouble”, he steps in at last, with a low grumble that allows a chuckle to surprise him.

“Don’t be too hard on her. She was panicking, I offered my phone but she didn’t remember your number. I asked where she was supposed to go and when she mentioned the neighborhood, I inquired about her brother’s name. Pretty lucky, huh?”, she’s not looking at him, busy taking off her jacket as well. Suna’s gaze softens.

“Yeah, really lucky. Thank you for taking care of her”.

“I also have a younger brother, I know what it feels like”, she smiles, looking at him at last, “one time we went to a festival without our parents, he thought it’d be funny to play hide and seek without telling me. I think I aged ten years that night”.

“She also used to run away so much as a kid. It’s in our blood, I was the exact same”.

“Doesn’t surprise me for some reason”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“I’m done, we can go now”, Kaori hops down the stairs, two steps at a time, then glares at her brother. Golden, foxy eyes narrowed. “You’re not being rude, are you?”.

He rolls his eyes but, before he can reply, someone beats him to it.

“He’s never rude to me. We’re friends, remember?”, Suna watches her wink with a smile so warm. Is that really the same person he runs into almost on a daily basis?

Astonished, he witnesses that little, usually quiet, reserved gremlin smile back at his neighbor. Then, remembering how important formalities are in their family, she thanks her with a deep bow. It’s only then that he notices them: fox slippers. Cute, pointed ears, bushy tales and everything.

They both jump when the steel water bottle hits the parquet flooring, Kaori dramatically clutching her chest. “Can you not be a weirdo for five seconds?”.

His neighbor (could it be…???) furrows her brows in genuine confusion. “I think volleyball finally started affecting his brain. Better take him home”.

“Yeah. Let’s go, loser”.

“Shut up, be thankful mom’s not here”, he fires back, fake annoyance to cover the fright that gnome’s actually caused. Suna’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason as he takes another furtive look at those slippers while pushing Kaori out the door, mind racing.

He is completely, absolutely unable to focus. Over dinner, he distractedly listens while his sister paints vivid pictures of boring classes, the art course their mom wants her to give a chance to, the latest fight she had with her best friend. He asks questions and fails to register the answers he gets, over and over again. It’s a relief when Kaori sprints to the bathroom, calling the shots for who gets to shower first. Suna is left rinsing the plates, with a brain that can’t think.

Would it be possible? You’re from Shizuoka. You have those exact slippers. You always feed stray cats. God, the fucking slippers. What are the chances?

He could call Osamu, ask a few questions. Instead, his sister’s voice keeps chipping away at what’s left of his sanity.

Your friend’s cool. I wish my teacher was that nice.

A teacher. Could kids be the wearing but rewarding humans you often mentioned?

He goes back to that disastrous dinner, desperately trying to recall how the conversation felt. What did they even text about prior to that evening? Was that woman as charming as you are? Fuck, he doesn’t remember a single word exchanged that evening. He just remembers being an asshole.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, from her comfortable spot on the couch, Kaori watches her brother march to the front door, then bend down to put on the same shoes he wore a few hours before, “lock the door, don’t burn the house down”.

“Where are you going?”, her brows are knit in confusion, never in worry.

“None of your business. Lock the door”.

“Sure, sure, bye”.

“Right now, Kaori”, something in his weirdly brisk tone makes the fourteen year old pause the show she’s watching, not without a dragged groan, and get up from underneath the blanket she had stolen from her brother’s room.

You’re so ready to go to bed early and declare the day officially concluded.

Work was tough, managing a new classroom of overexcited kids had proven to be particularly difficult. Between the increasing pressure from school administrators and the daunting task of creating engaging lesson plans for the new semester, you felt a heavy weariness threatening to swallow you whole.

As you brush your teeth, tired reflection staring back at you, he worms his way back into your thoughts once more. Saying that hearing his name and then seeing him again was unexpected would be an understatement: you were absolutely convinved (and thankful) he had moved. Where the hell did he disappear for over a month? Just to come back and show up like the annoying, irritating nuisance he is. One you can’t seem to whisk away.

Your date was one of the most disappointing nights of your life. Suna, the guy you had talked with for days, the same Suna who was so witty, intelligent and nice, was also just so blatantly uninterested. Bored. He didn’t even make the effort to ask about your day, eyes distant whenever you tried to initiate a conversation. And of course, because life hates you, you have to be reminded of that night every single day because you now see him every single day.

What’s more, you had failed the one person you’ve been able to feel interested in after that big, fat disappointment. Someone who just found himself trapped in the crossfire of your thoughts and stupid, stupid fears. Someone you were selfishly not ready to have so close. Someone wonderful who didn’t deserve your self-serving worries.

You’re already in your pjs when the doorbell rings multiple times, so insistent you almost trip down the stairs as you hurry, terrified that you’re gonna have to face an emergency with pandas printed on your pants.

“What the hell?!”, you instinctively step back as he leans forward, his entire weight resting against the doorframe.

“Sorry, I know it’s late”, Suna takes a deep breath but it’s not really needed. Prior warmup or not, he isn’t at all affected by the sprint through which he covered the distance between his house and yours. “I just had to… hey, can I come in? I’m probably gonna have a heart attack if I don’t sit down”.

You’re staring at him wide-eyed, completely startled.

“Yeah? Sure, come in! Is your sister okay? Did something happen?”, you’re quick to push the door closed as he heavily flops on your couch.

“No, no…”, Suna seems distracted for a moment, eyes scanning the room and zeroing on your tv, which is currently turned off. He stares at it for a while, then lets out a small laugh. “Actually, maybe it’s better if I stand up”.

“Suna, are you on drugs right now?”, the question is serious but his eyes, now fixed on you, don’t reveal any particular emotion besides genuine… amusement?

“I need to tell you something”.

The odd idea that he might be hiding a knife somewhere underneath that leather jacket crosses your mind for a split second.

“Sure…?”.

“When my sister was a baby, she’d cry a lot. I legit thought my ears would explode at some point”, he weighs the words carefully as he approaches you and, for some odd reason, you don’t take a step back. “She’d cry so much, all the time. And then, one day, I brought home a snoopy plush I won at the arcade. It became the one thing that would always shut her up”.

It feels like someone’s toppled a bucket of ice cold water over your head. Suna is standing so close while looking at you in a way you’ve never witnessed, a way so uncommon for him. You can’t focus on the desperation in his eyes and you’d never guess the hopefulness simmering behind a gaze that seems to be discovering you for the first time.

“It’s you”, barely a whisper, but it’s all the confirmation he needs. The relief in Suna’s exhale is intense as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. Thank god he does, because your knees feel so wobbly.

It’s a weird sensation, being pressed against him, hanging onto his shoulders for support. He’s warm and smells so good, of bergamot and musk. Your brain can’t quite comprehend that he’s the person you’ve been talking to for the past months.

“I missed you. I’m sorry”, he confesses in the curve of your neck and the words dissolve underneath the thin fabric of your pjs, slowly sink into your skin and bones. “I’m so sorry”, he says again, carefully pulls back to look at you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. Mirth flashes across his features for a moment. “Hey, are you about to throw up?”.

“No, of course not!”, you take a tentative step back but he doesn’t trust your stability and keeps a gentle hold on your arms, “why are you apologizing? I disappeared. I should be the one… I should be…”, Suna’s gaze softens, one hand rising up to touch your face but then freezing mid-air, deciding against the risk of freaking you out even more.

“Please don’t cry”.

“What?”, you retort, “I’m not crying. Ew”, but when you touch your cheek, it’s shocking to find it wet. What the fuck.

“Oh, god. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, a dry chuckle bubbles up from your throat, “listen, there’s no pressure on you. I’m sure this is a real disappointment so, like, we can pretend it never happened and just go on with our lives. I won’t—”

“Are you sure it’s you? The person I’m looking for is pretty clever”, he attempts a smile when you frown, familiar at last. “You think I’d leave my sister alone and race all the way here for a real disappointment?”.

“I think you just wanted to corroborate”.

Suna rolls his eyes, incredulous. “Well, I corroborated. I’m only gonna pretend it never happened if that’s what you want, because it sure as hell isn’t what I want. If you even care about that”.

You angrily wipe your tears, cheeks burning scorching hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you to be so close. I freaked out. I’m freaking out right now because you’re even closer, apparently”.

“Are you disappointed?”.

You look at him, really look at him. His dishevelled hair, naturally narrowed eyes, the bridge of a perfect nose, full lips forced in a severe line. He’s searching for something in your gaze, with fierce determination. How can one person’s eyes be so penetrating? You feel naked, exposed. Vulnerable.

“No”, you reply, sincere, “no, I’m not”. If only you could feel the relief taking over his chest. “But… what now?”.

Suna feels as if he’s seeing you for the first time and, at the same time, it’s like he’s recovering something important, something precious. He’s already trusted you with some of the most important, hidden parts of himself. He hasn’t liked someone that way in such a long time and he’ll be damned if he lets this chance pass by. Again.

He’s not too late. Why does he always think he is?

You curiously watch as Suna takes his phone out and spends a few seconds tapping on it with a smile he can barely hide.

The familiar ping of a notification you haven't heard in weeks makes you stutter.

crysnoopy

-> Now we do this right.

[lethalchiralium]

Seasons Change ⋆⭒ Part One

Retired!Cowboy!John Price x F!Reader, “arranged” marriage AU - Series Masterlist

summary: You’ve responded to the ad, traveling for days to a secluded farm in Montana to marry a man who would free you from the loneliness that infested your life back home - at the cost of your freedom. Or so you think.

Are you truly sure about this?

Your coach wasn’t extravagant by any means, wood splintered off of its wall and the cushions almost as old as you. You were sure that if you placed your Mama’s suitcase onto the floor, it would fall through. Your nicest shoes were on your feet, tied tightly and uncomfortable as they ghosted the top of the rotting wood floorboards.

Your hands were settled in a pair of your finest gloves, which shielded away the nicks you got from farming at your parent’s small ranch; lima beans, beets, sugar peas, radishes and tomatoes. The ground was tough in Illinois, trying to learn how to farm behind your mother’s back was essential - for you to be able to have freedom when you leave for the West, you had to have a source of income. Unless, God gives you a little ad from Montana on a Sunday afternoon.

Your nails hurt every time you scraped off the top soil from your radishes, the hot sun boiled your back through your stifling dress. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand before you pulled out the last one, a sore hand wiped away dirt to show a deep violet color. There was a smirk on your face, the vegetable settled in your small basket. Your Pa was to be back by noon, taking his horse to town for some supplies and a new sewing kit for Mama. Her time was spent inside, usually under the watchful eye of a needle and feeder as her brand new sewing machine droned on. Pa spent the better part of the money from last year’s harvest for that, she took it with a soft smile.

Mama’s clothes were good, she can sew four shirts by noon and sell them by two o’clock, her blankets still have a waitlist from last winter. You were lucky to have her sew you a new dress with how busy she’s gotten - it’s good for you, it means you can learn how to tend a farm from Pa. Independent living always intrigued you, wanting to live off the land in a quiet house with a shepherd dog. People weren’t interesting enough for you - you got that from Mama - but romance was. Wanting to be loved without the hassle of courting was a dream of yours, but it wasn’t feasible. No good man would want a woman with cuts on her hands, your Mama always said, a lady doing a man’s work insults God. That and you didn’t go to town much, never going without your Pa for fear of being harassed by men like you had been before. You were always escorted through town by your Pa, he always had a smile and a swift draw with his revolver.

You twisted a tomato from the vine, a decent size yet still not big enough - it seemed the soil was beginning to lose its strength of growing your crops bigger than the palm of your hand. Every year they kept growing smaller, every year it seemed that Mama’s sewing hobby was looking more profitable than the cornfields Pa tended to alone. Even your contribution of an array of vegetables wouldn’t bring four dollars to the table; when it used to bring seven.

There were footsteps along the side of the house, heavy and with a gentle huff as he walked on the solid Earth. It wasn’t hard to recognize your Pa by sound, your hands kept twisting off undersized tomatoes as he approached from the side.

“I’ve got something for you, Sugar Pea.”

You shook your head. “If it’s one of those Seed boys’ letters, I don’t want it.”

“It’s somethin’ you oughta consider.”

The trail began to grow bumpy, your hands held onto your small suitcase as you gazed out the window. The fields expanded as far as your eye could see, mountains clustered in the distance made you excited. You had never seen mountains before - Illinois was flatter than most states. It had taken you a day by coach then three days by train from busy Chicago to reach the calm Montana landscape, excitement bubbled in your skin. This is where you would be living the rest of your life, you hoped. You prayed this ad your father had given you wasn’t a trick for the man you had been corresponding with for the past two months.

The coach was stuffy, you already tried to open the windows in the doors but they were sealed shut, your hand waved your fan to try and keep cool in the brand new dress you sewed just for this occasion.

“No daughter of mine is leaving to go to Montana by herself!”

“Ellen, she wants to go! I won’t stop her.”

“And how did she get this ad? She certainly doesn’t have the penny to pay the damn clerk for the newspaper.”

“If she wants to go to Montana to marry a farmhand, let her. None of these boys here are worth the scum on my shoe.”

You laid in your bed, you watched as your curtain billowed from the night time breeze - moonlight dancing along with the thin fabric as the only sound you heard was your parents arguing.

“What if we need her? What if the soil runs dry?”

“I’ll learn to sew.”

“It’s a woman’s job.”

“It’s also her job to be married by now. She’s 20 for God’s sake, Ellen, she needs to have her own freedom.”

“And it’s a world’s away from us?”

Your fingers tapped your nightgown, tears running down the side of your face. You hated that you would be so far from them, but this was your chance. Romance without courting, hopefully. You were naive enough to not understand that romance is nothing without courting.

“She’s not a child anymore. She just wants to be wed.”

“And not have her husband love her?! Courting is how she should be doing it, that Joseph is a fine boy-“

“Not again with that preacher’s son-“

“-that would treat her right!”

“She doesn’t want to be here! She just wants to be wed and to be left alone, this man promised us a cash amount if she replies. All she would need to do is wed him, give him a child-“

“Gerald-“

“-then shoot him if she likes, just like I taught ‘er.”

Pa’s silver revolver was smothered by an old scarf in the deepest part of your suitcase, just in case this man in the ad turned out to have lied about his identity. A 35 year old man in need of a wife to start a family with. Payment to family if wed. You had written to him four times during the winter, spring had come in full bloom to welcome you to your new home. He had promised a warm house and a dog in his lengthy letters, detailing where he lived and where his family came from. Said he was a farmhand, tending to horses and a farm he partially owned. You didn’t have much to say back, only that you lived on flat farm land your whole life, you know how to garden, cook, and sew. And to your surprise, he found that knowing how to garden was great. You always had the idea that men hated women doing any of the dirty work, but that always came from Mama’s mouth. He wrote in detail that he found your hobbies interesting and would be more than happy to let them continue, if you agreed to marry him.

“You’re set on meeting this man. Are ya sure you want to go?”

“I am.”

“Get up. Pack quickly before your Mama hears ya.”

“Pa-“

“Hurry. The train leaves soon and the carriage can only go so fast.”

And here you were, in a coach this mysterious John Price had rented to bring you from the center of Missoula to his farm an hour away. You had enough money to get you to him, but he insisted on paying the train ticket and for you to be promptly delivered to him. Perhaps you should have considered if he was truly lying and was a one-eyed bald man named Bob. That or it was that crazy preacher’s son trying to get you to marry him again. You silently prayed that this seemingly sweet man you had been writing to all winter was actually kind and respectful.

The coach stopped abruptly, it jerked you forwards and forced you to press your shoes into the withered floorboards - yet nothing happened; you were surprised. Your gaze fell to the window, gazing out to see beautiful fields and dozens of trees. Even in the early spring with the remaining spray of snow on the ground, it was gorgeous. You could hear talking, the horse neighed at the front and all you could do was gaze out the window to the massive farm.

There was talking, a deep voice who initiated the conversation with the coach driver - your heart rose into your throat. Was this where you were going to live the rest of your life? Sprawling countryside with whinnying horses, barking dogs, lush trees and dark mountains as far as the eye could see? If it was, you were content - it was better than the flat farmland you lived on your entire life. You spotted a dark brown horse, coming into your view - a nice saddle sat on its back, deep brown hair combed and black spots dotted its belly. You would have spent the next hour admiring the gorgeous horse if it wasn’t for the coach door opening. Your eyes settled on the man who held open the door, covered by a long brown coat and brown shirt. He then held his hand out, you handed him your suitcase.

The man held out his free hand to you with a smile, eyes blue like a stormy sky. It shocked you just how gentle his gaze was, every man who ever looked at you always seemed like they would rip you apart at the seams.

Not this one.

He set your suitcase down, still holding your hand in his calloused one.

Oh. He is pretty.

Dark brown beard with mutton chops somewhat kept neat, teeth a light yellow - better than most men you’ve seen.

“What if he’s mean, Papa?”

“Then you leave.”

“If I can’t?”

“Shoot him in the head. You know how.”

His hold was gentle, better than any man who had grabbed at you when you were a teenager. Disgusting men laying hands on a young girl in the streets, but scrambling back like cats when Pa snapped at them.

“You’re prettier than what I imagined.”

Your jaw almost went slack with shock - he was British? He never disclaimed that to you in his letters, but his subtle drawl of his accent made your stomach quiver. Your lips pulled a smile.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

“She speaks.” He chuckled a little. “Thank you, Miss.”

The coachman closed the door behind you, John then began to lead you towards the horse you were admiring earlier - now noticing the cart attached to it. It wasn’t anything fancy, just something to pull heavy items around. Your trunk already sat on it, he led you towards the seats.

You gazed at his face, the jawline that faded into his neat beard - the way his brown hair seemed to glitter in the sunshine. He was perfect - like the daydreams you had for years.

“It’s a small ride to the house,” John turned to you, holding up your hand to help you into the seat. You stepped up onto the cart, settling down and letting go of his gentle hand so he could set your suitcase beside your trunk. You looked down at your powder blue dress, one you spent all winter making by hand - Mama wasn’t fond of you using her machine. You were proud of this dress, even if it was meant to wear for one day, you’d always be so proud of how nicely it came together, how your first meeting with the man you were to spend the rest of your life with was perfect. Being optimistic is a good trait, Papa always said.

You spent your time watching the landscape as if it moved with you, the short journey felt centuries long as your heart beat faster than a race horse. Life here would certainly be harder than home, seeing that neither of your parents allowed you to help them most days - you were left on your own. Always alone, always doing what was needed without overstepping. This was a whole new challenge; learning where to push and where to pull boundaries with one John Price.

“Have you eaten?”

You glanced to John, noting his one hand on the reigns and the other resting on his leg. Your eyes flickered up to his face, his eyes kept on the trail in front of the horse.

“I have not.”

“I will make you dinner when we arrive. Won’t be long.”

You nodded to yourself, your own hands settling in your lap, squeezing tightly together. You gazed down at your hands, the blue of your dress meant to calm you. What you missed was a soft smile from your betrothed, his gaze memorizing your face for a few seconds before looking ahead.

This is a good choice. New scenery. New people. Far, far away from that damned pastor’s son and Mama’s snide remarks.

I have faith in John. But I hold no trust yet.

Use the gun if you’re ever scared.

Dinner was quiet. He was a good cook, much better than what you were used to and you were secretly delighted. Just a simple pork and potato dinner was better than the porridge your mother barely made edible. You stood like an awkward stranger in the small living room of the one bedroom home, unsure of what to do as John had not asked anything of you yet after dinner. In fact, he was silent the moment you stepped foot into his home.

Were you doing this wrong? What had you done to make him suddenly grow quiet?

There was a dusty couch, a dirt covered rug and a barely used fireplace in the room, your hands clasped together as a way to ease your nerves. He hasn’t opened the door to the bedroom yet, that was the most nerve wracking part. You haven’t shared a bed with a man, not since you were a toddler in your Mama’s bed. It was a terrifying prospect - especially to a quiet and reserved lady, having been chased by many men back home.

At least you won’t have to worry about those leeches anymore. You have a… husband now. You will be a wife. He can protect you. Right?

“I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

You jumped a little, turning to look at John as he stood a few feet away - hands settled in his pockets. The awkwardness clung to your clothes, worry brewing deep in your belly. Does he not like you now?

John settled back on his heels, to your eye he seemed calm - what you couldn’t see was the tensing of his muscles, trying to not be as nervous as you were. The way he forced his jaw open to speak wouldn’t be noticed by you either. “I wanted to uh… thank you. For agreeing.”

You curtly nodded, you fought the urge to pick at your nail beds - a nervous habit. Silence befell the room again, your gaze didn’t disconnect from John for more than a few moments, where he held his hand towards the closed door - what you assumed was the bedroom. Your stomach dropped unexpectedly, your blood grew cold and you could only watch him with a nervous glare. He gazed back at you for just a moment before he spoke to himself, seeming to chastise his previous gesture, before he opened the door. He nodded towards it again.

“I’ll bring your chest in if you want to have a look around.”

Your legs felt like they could give way at any moment, but you still walked silently towards the room - John moved out of your way, making sure there was no chance to accidentally touch you. Acting as if you were made of thin porcelain, one wrong move and you would shatter on the floor. He turned away as soon as you passed, you didn’t miss the near-silent wince he made as soon as he started walking. You looked to him, a fleeting moment, just to memorize his figure before ducking into the quaint bedroom.

A large bed was pushed into the corner, only able to crawl onto the bed on one side. A fireplace across from there, connected to the one in the living room. The floor was bare hardwood, your shoes most likely shielded you from miniature splinters. There was a mirror in the corner, reflecting the entire room from where you stood. Only a few pictures adorned cleaned spaces, photographs of places that you’ve never seen before. A bay, with ships sailing in and out. One with snow covered trees. Another with a decrepit looking house.

You were quick to change. Your eyes watched John through the mirror, his back completely to you. You threw off your nice dress as soon as you untied it - not without a little struggle - before you pulled on a long nightgown, sleeves down to your wrists and hem grazing the top of your feet. You pulled the pins from your hair,

You pulled your quilt from your trunk, your hands gripped it tightly as you turned to face your… fiancé. His back was to you, showing many light pink scars. Some were the size of your pinky, others the size of your palm. If you were brave, you would walk up to him and trace the edges of them - but you weren’t. You waited for John to finish the bed, nerves swirled in your belly. You hadn’t shared a bed with someone since your Mama stopped letting you in hers when you were six. You’re a lady, she said, ladies don’t sleep in beds with men if they’re not wed.

“We’re not married yet.” Your voice was soft, John’s hands halted as they set a pillow on the far side of the bed.

“We are not.”

“We can’t sleep in the same bed.”

The man chuckled a little before he took the pillow closest to him, tossing it onto the floor beside the bed. “I forgot you wrote about that.”

Your grip tightened on the quilt. “About what?”

He yanked off the blanket from the bed, leaving the brown sheets before he dropped the blanket onto the floor next to the pillow. He turned around, it was hard not to try and gaze at his bare chest but you still kept his gaze. “Not sleeping beside each other until we were married. I meant to make my sleeping arrangements earlier but a man’s work is never done.” He shrugged, his smile softened as he nodded towards the bed. “Go on.”

You stood there for a moment, contemplating if you should sleep in his bed when he was to work the farm in the morning, but he held out his hand, the smile never fading.

“You’ll sleep alone just for the week, love.” He nodded again towards the bed. “I promise I’ll be fine on the floor.”

You silently made your way to the bed, hoisting yourself onto it before you spread your quilt over your body and the bed. It was cold, comfortable but not inviting. You supposed it wouldn’t be - you had been in this house for less than a day and the only thing comforting you was your belongings from home.

Home, you chuckled in your head. I suppose home is here now.

John fluffed his pillow on the floor, you didn’t hear an ounce of complaint as he pulled the worn blanket over himself. Your fingers traced the stitching of Mama’s sewing machine, your quilt sheltered you from the scratchy sheets on John’s bed. You could hear your mother droning on about marrying a farmhand, that you needed to go for someone with more money like a politician or a Christian - you didn’t like any man she chose, you shook your thoughts of that away. The first man you had chosen for yourself was far better than any lowlife scoundrel your Mama could find, and she would find ones that couldn’t have kindness anywhere near their greedy hides.

You slightly jumped when John spoke your name.

“Yes, John?”

He cleared his throat. “We’ll marry by the end of the week. I’ll sleep on the floor ‘til you decide you want me up there.”

“Okay.”

The stitching reminded you of home, of your cozy room with as many blankets as your Mama could make. It reminded you of quiet nights sitting with Pa on the porch, letting your mother stew inside after she made a comment that made Pa defend you. It reminded you of being little and standing outside Mama’s sewing room, hands holding your stuffed toy while you watched her sew by hand - one footstep into her room was ten minutes worth of scolding.

As you closed your eyes, you pressed your hands into your sternum. John was to be your husband, which meant children sooner or later. You promised yourself you would never scold your children for wanting to love you.

You hoped John would hold the same value.

[captainsbestgal]

I've been on this train for years, and I'm a huge MCU fan. Hell my username is MCU related.

Nothing has gotten me excited for an MCU movie until they dropped the new Captain America trailer. It looks like they're going back to the semi-political thriller genre that they did for the second Captain America film. If that's the case, I'm hyped. But I'm skeptical. I don't exactly trust the MCU to do this story justice. And ffs they had to change the name of the movie cause it was originally pretty antisemitic (a new world order). They also changed the background of a character so she was no longer a Mossad spy, which is a whole other can of worms. Some say they went too far with changing her background while others say they should've just gotten rid of her character all together because she represents a genocidal government.

Thunderbolts looks like it's gonna do my man Bucky dirty, and Agatha has had no appeal to me. From the gifs I've seen it makes me really confused who this show is even for.

This doesn't even get into their failed movie/tv phase post Endgame. Thor 4? Eternals? The Hawkeye TV show? Ms. Marvel? Echo?god theres probably more that im forgetting about. The only ones that I think that were all that good wete Loki, the faclcon and the winter soldier, and wandvision. Loki was good but like theres a second season, and i dont think anyone could tell you what it's about. The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, which I adored but apparently no one else did. And WandaVision which I think may have been their best show by far, but they really clung onto Agatha when I think having a show about the CIA guy that Randall Park played wouldve been more fun. Like him running around the US, investigating superhumans or local super heroes would've been really cool.

I know this was a major throw things at the wall and see what sticks era, with Ironman dying and Steve Roger's going back in time they had little to no main characters left. But they really oversaturated the market with characters and none really had the magic that the OG movies had. Even those left from the OG movies are no longer appealing. Like who REALLY saw the 4th Thor movie?

They fucked it up themselves and they're trying HARD to unfuck it (ie Robert Downey Jr. coming back as a villian).

Tldr Marvel didn't think their cinematic universe through and is floundering now.

it's so insane the the mcu is still making new shit. like stop it already. go home. who is still watching.

[eelnoise]

only this moment

zoro x gn!reader cw: fluff, first kisses, you and zoro are a little drunk an: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL BELOVED AMAZING SWEET BOY. sorry it's a day late :( high key the prequel to this fic and it's sequel (both nsfw!) but more a fun fact than a requirement btw. wc: 4.2k

It's Zoro's birthday, and while he's never been one to make a fuss about it, this year the ship is conveniently docked for the night, giving the crew the perfect opportunity to celebrate. He doesn’t exactly mind—and it’s not like he can avoid it—he’s not used to the attention such a day brings. Leaning against the railing and staring off into the sunset, he remains quiet, distant in the way he always is. 

But there’s a softness in the way his gaze lingers on the crew, their laughter and warmth filling the air beneath the fading light of the setting sun. The comfort it brings doesn’t feel strange anymore. It’s simply a part of his world now, like the rising and setting sun—familiar, irreplaceable, and quietly essential.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by the unmistakable sound of your footsteps approaching, your voice cutting through the noise of the crew. “You alright? Are they too much for ya?”

Zoro glances over his shoulder, his usual deadpan expression in place, but there's a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes as they land on you. "Nah, they’re not botherin’ me," he grumbles and shakes his head, his act deliberately nonchalant. “I’m alright.”

He’s good at hiding it, at playing off the unfamiliar tug in his chest every time you speak to him like that. But the truth is, he’s not used to the way your presence settles something in him, not used to how easy it feels just to be near you.

You smile, and it’s effortless, like you’ve known him for years, and maybe you have, but there’s something different about it tonight. Something that makes him feel strangely exposed, even though you’re only a few feet away. He’s used to being left alone, used to carrying the weight of his thoughts without anyone noticing, but with you, it’s like he can’t hide behind his usual walls.

Coming to a stop just next to him, Zoro turns around to properly face you and notices that you’re holding something behind your back. His brows furrow slightly, his eyes narrowing in a way that makes you think he’s already figured it out, even when he hasn’t.

“What’re you hiding?” he asks, his words slow and steady, but there’s a hint of curiosity beneath the surface—he’s trying too hard to play it off, and he still can’t quite mask it.

“I know you don't care much for gifts or whatever but—” His attention sharpens, but he doesn’t press. Instead, he just crosses his arms, a half-smirk tugging at his lips, like he’s willing to let you have your fun for now. But even then, his eyes don’t leave you, waiting, just a little too interested.

With a sly grin, you reach behind your back and pull out two bottles of sake, one in each hand. “I remembered how much you liked that sake from the island we visited last month,” you say, holding up the bottles for a closer look. “Thought it’d make a good birthday gift. Y’know, some good memories.”

You glance at him, offering a small, almost shy smile. There’s no big gesture, no over-the-top presentation—just something simple that you thought he'd appreciate.

Zoro is speechless, his arms still crossed over his chest, trying to keep his composure and not let on to how much the gesture seems to throw him off. He’s not used to being on the receiving end of things, and gifts are especially new territory. For a long moment, he just stares, his eyes flitting from the bottles in your hands to your face, like he’s waiting for the punchline. But it never comes.

He wasn’t expecting anything. He didn’t want anything. Still, as you stand there before him, looking so genuine and kind and truthful, something within him swells. A warm feeling blossoming in his chest.

Zoro swallows, his words a little rough, more vulnerable than he wants them to be. “Didn’t have to do that,” he mutters, but there’s a quiet fondness in his expression that contradicts his words. He holds out his hand, silently asking for the bottles, waiting patiently for you to hand one to him.

You offer a bottle, and he takes it from your hands, his fingers brushing yours for just a second. He hesitates, clearly unsure of how to respond, before muttering, “Thanks...” in that awkward way he does when he’s caught off guard. But then, as if a thought suddenly strikes him, he looks up, a hint of something softer in his eyes.

“Hey... you wanna share a bottle?” he asks, his tone casual, but there's an underlying sincerity there. He quickly clears his throat, as if the offer itself was a bit more vulnerable than he meant it to be. "I mean, you went out of your way to get it for me. Least I can do is share."

The way he says it—slightly gruff but definitely not uninterested—makes it clear that he doesn't want you to walk off just yet. It's not just about the sake. He wants you to stick around.

You grin, “Of course I do, in fact…” trailing off, you quickly produce two shot glasses from your back pocket—stashed just for this very instance in mind. The small glass makes a soft clink against the wood as you slide one over the railing to Zoro with a knowing look. “I figured you'd be in the mood for a drink," you add, gesturing for him to have the first pour.

He catches the glass between his fingers and uncorks the bottle to pours the clear liquid gently into the small glass. Raising it to his lips, he swirls it slightly before taking a sip. The alcohol burns pleasantly down his throat, warming him from the inside out. He lets out a satisfied sigh, his shoulders relaxing a bit.

"Not bad," he comments, raising his glass in a silent toast before taking another drink. His eyes linger on you, studying your face in the fading light. "You know me well," he adds, his expression  thoughtful, as though he's still processing the simple truth in the words. 

Zoro tilts his head slightly, studying you in a way that's both casual and strangely intense before handing the bottle over to you. He watches you closely as you fill your glass up, his focus once again lingering on your face, as if trying to read you.

You take the bottle with a small, knowing grin, your fingers brushing his as you accept it. Your glass is already in hand, and you pour a generous amount, the clear liquid catching the last of the fading sunlight. As you bring the glass to your lips, you meet his gaze, holding it just long enough to make him wonder whether you’re savoring the moment or just being playful. The warmth of the alcohol spreads quickly, but it's not enough to dull the sharpness of the connection between you both. 

The night stretches on and the deck clears out, leaving  Zoro and you settled into a comfortable rhythm, now relaxed with your backs against the hull, the warmth from the alcohol fighting the chill of the crisp sea wind. The conversation has shifted from casual banter to deeper, quieter exchanges, though neither of you is particularly worried about keeping things serious for long.

But now, his eyes are fixed on you in that way he always has when he's trying to figure something out—or just when he's being his usual teasing self. You’ve had a few too many, and while you’re not exactly stumbling, your laughter has taken on a loose, carefree quality—and for a moment he’s so taken with you he doesn’t catch the smile in his cheeks.

Zoro’s expression doesn’t escape your notice, making your brow furrow. “What’s with the look?” you ask, flashing a playful grin.

He smirks, taking another swig from his glass before leaning against the railing. “You’re such a lightweight, ya know that?”

“Anyone’s a lightweight compared to you, dude.” You reply, rolling your eyes slowly, but with a touch of amusement, you let out a little laugh. It’s hard to stay annoyed with that smug grin of his.

There's a dare in his poise, playful and teasing, but with an edge of something else—a spark of excitement, a hint of mischief. With his back pressed against the cool, rough wood of the wall, he shifts just enough so his gaze locks with yours.

Zoro chuckles, low and deep, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Maybe so, but I bet I could still outdrink you any day."

There's a challenge in his tone, playful and teasing, but with a hint of something else—an edge of excitement, a spark of mischief. With his back pressed against the cool, rough wood of the ship, he shifts just enough so his look meets yours.

"What do you say? Think you can handle a little competition?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his words.

You nod eagerly, your eyes lighting up with the same mischievous energy. A slow grin spreads across your face, the alcohol lending you the courage to match his boldness. "Oh, I'm game," you reply, shifting slightly closer, your thigh brushing against his as you adjust your position. "What are you thinking?"

Zoro's eyes glint with mischief, his lips curling into a sly smirk. "Simple," he says, his voice low. "We take turns guessing something about each other. If you're wrong, you take a shot."

He tilts his head, his gaze never leaving yours. The mischief in his eyes still lingers, but there's a lighter edge to it now, a playful gleam that makes the moment feel less intense and more... electric in its own way. The air between you shifts, not a spark, but something that quickens the beat of your heart.

The thought of being so close, trading secrets and truths, sends a little thrill through you. Even in the dim light, you can see every detail of his face, his expression open, his eyes sharp with interest. It's intimate in a way both familiar and new, and your heart hammers in your chest. 

“You're on," you reply, the words coming out a little more breathless than you intended. "But don't think I'm gonna go down easily."

Zoro’s smirk deepens, his stare never wavering from yours, the tease in his eyes sharp and unwavering. He leans in slightly, a flicker of amusement dancing in his look. “Let me guess," he says smooth and confidently. "Your biggest fear... it’s not something simple, right? Nah, I bet it’s something that really gets under your skin." He pauses, studying you with a critical eye, before letting out a slow breath. "I’m gonna say... it’s being helpless. Not being able to protect the people you care about."

His words hang in the air, his eyes still locked onto yours, as if he's daring you to confirm or deny it. The intensity of his gaze is almost too much, but you can’t help but feel a strange warmth at the fact that he’s thought so deeply about it.

A shiver runs down your spine at how close he is, the way his voice wraps around the words, and the sheer truth of it all. You swallow, trying to keep your expression neutral as you meet his eyes.

“Damn," you murmur, a hint of surprise in your voice. "That's more accurate than I care to admit. How the hell did you guess that?"

Zoro laughs, "Maybe I just know you that well, eh?" He playfully nudges you, the alcohol, and you, are calming him more than he'd like to admit. He's very comfortable in this moment, and it's something he can't deny to himself, so why not indulge in the rare privacy? "Drink up." He adds with a nod.

A soft laugh escapes your lips, the sound a little shaky. "Seems like it," you mutter, the reality of how well he knows you sending a strange wave of heat through your chest.

Following his instruction, you swallow down a hefty gulp of liquid courage, the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat. You exhale, the feeling only adding to the flutter in your stomach.

"All right, my turn," you say, trying to steady your voice despite the flutter in your chest. "I've got a pretty good guess for you, too."

Zoro leans back slightly, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "Alright, let's hear it," he replies, low and curiously, the challenge in his tone still present but tempered by an edge of amusement.

"I think..." you begin taking in his relaxed, more casual expression. It makes you smile, and you don't think about trying to hide it, either, "You're a big softie, and I think that you know it."

The  smile falls, and he looks almost surprised, like he wasn't expecting you to be so perceptive. But then, his eyes narrow, and his smirk returns, only with a flicker of something softer. "Oh, so we're gonna play like that, huh?" He chides, his playful act never faltering.

Mhm," you confirm with a nod and a sly grin. "Now answer the question, softie."

Zoro clicks his tongue in annoyance as he realizes you’ve caught him in a rare moment of vulnerability. He runs a hand through his hair, his chuckle low and almost reluctant.

“Dammit,” he mutters, shifting against the railing with a sigh. He falls silent, studying you in the dim light like he's weighing whether to keep up the act. His gaze softens just slightly as he exhales. “Alright, fine, you got me,” he admits, the words gruff but unavoidably sincere. “Guess I do have my moments.”

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that," you note, tilting your head slightly and softening your tone, a playful glint in your eyes. You scoot a little closer, your inflection gentler now, as if you're letting him in on something only the two of you share. "Makes you human, you know? And honestly, it’s kinda... nice, seeing you let your guard down for once."

Zoro's lips twitch in response, a strange vulnerability in the way he responds to your words.

"Yeah, I guess it does," he replies, scratching the back of his head. He looks away as if embarrassed by the admission. "Still, I'm not about to go around announcing it to the world—I have an image to maintain, ya know."

You catch the flicker of that vulnerability, and the teasing smile on your lips softens just a bit. “Your secret is safe with me,” you assure him with a wink. “You can keep being the big, tough guy on deck, but I won’t spill.” You give him a playful nudge, your tone light but warm. “Now drink up, softie—let's see how long you can hold onto that image.”

Zoro lets out a rough laugh, the sound just a touch shaky, as if he's more affected by the moment than he'd like to let on. He takes the glass and tips it back, taking a long swallow. "All right, then. My turn to guess, huh?

A soft hum of amusement escapes your lips as you watch him drain the glass. "Mhm," you confirm with a nod, a small, satisfied smile on your face. "Let's see what you've got."

Zoro sets the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes locked on your face. A smirk twists at his lips, and he leans forward, resting his chin on his hand, his expression sharp and playful.

"I think..." he begins, his voice dropping slightly, "you're a lot more observant than you let on. You catch things that I wouldn't dream of, and sometimes, you just know what I'm thinking before I do. But, you're also pretty damn stubborn."

Your eyebrows arch at his observation, both impressed and slightly taken aback. It's eerily astute, and you know you can't deny it. With a sigh, you lean your head back and tilt your head toward with a wry smile.

"Oh? What kind of things do you notice that I catch?," you murmur, unable to hide the hint of surprise in your reaction. "And someone has to be stubborn to put up with you." You add with a tease.

Zoro chuckles, the sound low and throaty. He leans in close, a teasing smile on his lips. "Oh yeah? And who said I need putting up with?"

He tilts his head, studying your grin for a moment  before continuing. "You're smart," he remarks thoughtfully. "You pick up on things the rest of the crew doesn't, like when I'm irritated or when I'm lying. It's a pain in the ass."

The truth falling from his lips hits you hard, he feels genuine. Totally real and just honest with you right now. It dawns on you that Zoro lets you see him this way, and to deny the butterflies in your stomach would be a lie to the world.

"Leaves an impression though, yeah?" You force out, though the words are slightly sheepish. "I mean, we're here talking now, so you must like me enough to keep around."

Zoro's laugh is softer this time, a hint of something warm and almost fond in his expression.

"Yeah, I guess I do," he admits, shaking his head slightly. The night's quiet around you, except for the soft sound of the waves lapping against the hull. "You're stubborn and annoying as hell, but... yeah, I like you."

"I'm glad," you reply, letting the playful tease linger. You shift a little closer, your voice softening, but the warmth is still there. "It's nice 'putting up with you,' even if you make it way harder than it needs to be." You let out a small laugh, meeting his gaze with a fond smile. "But I guess someone has to deal with you, right?"

Zoro rolls his eyes playfully, as the gesture makes you giggle. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't get too cocky about it," he replies, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

But then there’s a stillness between you two. A quiet that feels different from the rest of the night. His attention lingers on you, the air thickening in a way that makes everything feel closer—heavier, more intimate.

You’re not sure when it happened, but suddenly, you’re sitting so close that you can feel the warmth of his body against yours. His breath brushes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as he tilts his head down, his eyes locking intently onto yours. He can’t help but notice how your presence seems to fill the space between, how the world around you fades to just the soft rhythm of your breathing, the quiet pulse of the moment.

Time seems to slow as your proximity to him registers fully. Zoro's heart skips a beat as he realizes how close you've gotten, the feel of your warm breath against his skin causing a shiver to race down his spine. Instinctively, he wants to pull back, to distance himself from this vulnerability, but something holds him in place.

Despite every instinct screaming at him to pull away, he finds himself stuck in place. Your proximity is intoxicating, making his heart race in his chest. And then, without a thought—pure impulse—he leans in.

His lips meet yours, firm and sure in a kiss that's both unexpected and exhilarating. The rest of the ship falls away, and now, it's just him and you, the alcohol loosening his inhibitions and fueling the fire that's been quietly building between you.

Zoro's hand moves almost on its own, reaching out to tangle in the soft strands of your hair, pulling you closer against him. The heat of the moment, fueled by the alcohol and the low thrum of tension that's always hung between you, is overwhelming. It feels both familiar and completely new, and his mind struggles to keep up with the onslaught of feeling.

It's slightly awkward, he isn't sure exactly what he's doing but gets the jest of it, the initial clumsiness rapidly melts away as he gets lost in the kiss. It's clear he's never been in this exact situation before, yet his instincts guide him as he lets himself be swept away by the moment.

His other hand moves to your waist, pulling you flush against him, the feel of your body against his suddenly more electrifying than anything he's ever felt.

As he pulls you against him, his arm wrapping around your waist, a low rumble of appreciation escapes his throat. The feeling of your body against his is electric in a way he's never experienced, the heat between you growing hotter with each passing moment. It's different from a fight, but the adrenaline feels just as battle would. 

He pulls away from you and there’s a beat of silence. The world seems to pause around you both, and for a moment, neither of you knows what to say. Zoro’s hand is still tangled in your hair, his fingers brushing lightly against your scalp as if he’s holding onto something grounding. His breath comes out in a shaky exhale, his eyes never leave yours and they’re flickering with something unreadable.

"I... I, uh..." he mutters, his words stumbling in a way that's completely out of character for him. The usually confident, aloof first mate is blushing like a damn tomato, and it makes something warm stir in your chest.

You can't help but smile, the cool night air doing little to quell the warmth spreading through you from that kiss. It's an unexpected, but not unwelcome, shift in the air between you. "It was nice," you say, your voice soft but steady, letting him know you're not about to make this more awkward than it already feels, "But I understand, we’re both probably a little... off balance right now."

Zoro glances at you, a flicker of relief in his eyes before he looks away again, clearly trying to regain some of his usual composure. "You... should probably get some sleep," he mutters, his gaze darting to the deck, clearly embarrassed by his own reaction.

You chuckle softly, though there's no judgment in it—just a quiet understanding. "Yeah... yeah, you're right. But no worries, I’m not going to hold it against you," you tease, the teasing lightness still there, but without any pressure. You're still floating somewhere between cloud nine and feeling completely grounded in the moment.

Zoro exhales, a little too sharply, before he slowly releases his grip on you, his hand drifting back to his side. There's a beat of silence as he clears his throat, looking sheepish for the first time tonight. It’s kind of cute, honestly.

"Here, let me..." he starts again, his words are rough but calmer than usual. "I’ll help get you to bed."

He reaches out for your hand, his fingers firm but careful as he takes it in his own. The gesture feels different now—gentler, more deliberate—and it makes your heart skip a beat. It’s endearing, how much he’s trying to be careful with you, and for once, it’s nice to see him not so sure of himself. You feel a little giddy, but you don’t pull away.

He guides you slowly across the deck, the atmosphere still charged with unspoken tension. As you walk, you can feel his gaze flick to you every so often, as if he's checking to make sure you're alright.

The sound of footsteps on the deck is the only break in the silence. Finally, you reach the door to your quarters, and Zoro stops, turning to face you.

He stands there, still holding your hand, clearly at a loss for what to do next. The low light catches his features in a way that makes him seem more vulnerable than usual, and for a brief moment, he seems unsure of himself—something you don’t see often. His mouth opens and closes as if he’s trying to find the right words but keeps getting stuck.

“You… you, uh, you get some sleep, okay?” His voice sounds softer than it’s ever been, a little awkward, sure,  but there’s a gentleness to it that you weren’t expecting. It's like he wants to make sure you're okay after everything.

You smile, your heart fluttering at how cute he's being. "You too, Zoro," you reply, squeezing his hand lovingly and flashing him a warm, sweet smile. “And happy birthday.”

Zoro’s face flushes a deeper shade of red, and his ears go a bit pink too. It's so obvious now how much the night has affected him. He quickly looks away, mumbling something too quiet for you to catch.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, his demeanor a little gruff but still somehow tender. He glances at you again, then looks away quickly, embarrassed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?.”

You give him one last smile before you turn to leave and Zoro watches you disappear into the room beyond, his heart beating a little faster than usual, and the warmth from your smile lingers with him long after you’ve disappeared into the night. He stands there for a while, staring at the spot where you were standing, and when he finally heads to his quarters, the usual brash first mate is nowhere to be found.

When he settles in his own bunk, Zoro's mind keeps replaying the moments with you. He can't help but smile—just a little, but it's there, soft and real. He lies in the dark, still feeling the warmth of your hand in his, and it brings an unfamiliar but comforting warmth to his chest. It’s not something he’s used to, but... it feels nice.

Zoro drifts off to sleep with a small, genuine smile still on his face, the first real one he’s had in a long time.

@tetzoro here is ur tag hehe

[bengiyo]

Ben’s Big BL Blurb 2: Fall is Finally Here

I am simply too busy with worth, family, other hobbies, and life to write about every show in real time anymore. I’m sorry to all the Stray Thoughts readers who’ve reached out about whether I would pick that back up, and I simply just do not have the time to do them anymore. Instead, I’ll try to do one of these as often as I can to catch up on things.

First, let’s go over some shows I finished recently that I don’t think I wrote much about.

First Note of Love

I was so happy to see Michael back on screen, and I was glad to see that he’s still able to get great chemistry with his co-star. Unfortunately, I don’t think this show was very coherent, so I didn’t get a lot out of it emotionally. It was a pretty inoffensive watch overall, and thus an easy show to put on without having to work through too much. I liked the work between everyone, and Mei Lei was such a fun character. Probably won’t return to this one, though. 

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

This is probably the show of the year for me. There’s so much I loved about this show. I loved that the characters had sex, but were neither rewarded nor punished for it; their sex didn’t solve any problems. I also really love how this show explored how childhood trauma expresses in two different kinds of boys, and I love that we got to see a bully reckon with his actions and get closure. I love that this show ended with them being kinda poor, but happy together. I love how messed up they both were about everything. I loved that Juyeong wasn’t stupid, and could read what was going on.

I clearly need to write a separate post to unpack everything I felt in this show.

Let’s move on to what I’m watching currently, in no particular order…starting with the lesbians, and then the worst BLs.

Apple My Love

Genuinely having fun with this GL. I like how quickly most of the drama plays out. It’s giving me quite a bit of secondhand embarrassment, but I like the characterizations in this show. This new production house brought us Knock Knock, Boys! and Monster Next Door this year. We need to keep an eyes on them. 

Haunted Hearts

I’m so fascinated by Oxin Films teaming up with Regal Entertainment. The leads are very attractive, but the cinematography is really boring. I’m trying to stay invested, but it’s kind of a sleepy watch. Also amused that they started airing a ghost romance right after Halloween ended. I’ve kind of moved on emotionally from the season.

My Damn Business

This show could be good, but it’s not. I struggled with episode 5 because our lead looked more relaxed and happier with his senior than the guy he’s getting into a romance with. There’s something missing here in this one, but I can’t exactly put my finger on it. I think it’s primarily a side effect of the short run time, but I think the boss’s interest isn’t landing properly for the employee to respond to. 

Eccentric Romance

This show could be good, but it’s not. Still, I am obsessed with a murder mystery being the primary source of confusion between our leads. I was willing to forgive this show a lot of its rough edges, but it failed to handle the turn from friendship to sexual/romance really well. I feel like our guys just started dating and having sex, and I’m a bit frustrated that they didn’t talk about it really at all, particularly since this show features two different languages spoken on screen. Genuinely looking forward to seeing how this one finishes. 

See Your Love

I’m not sure this show is exactly working that well, but everyone is very pretty and I’m having a decent time watching it. I like the way Shao Peng stands up for himself, and I like that nothing that’s happened has been totally unbelievable or unreasonable (at least with the mains). I’ll be curious how the hard of hearing and deaf viewers respond to this one once it’s complete. 

Love is Like a Poison

This show is actually so funny. I love that Shiba is in his own lawyer genre separate from everyone else, and I really like how the two of these guys have become a team. I’m curious how they manage to resolve the scamming next week, but this has been the most unexpected dynamic of the year. 

Love in the Air: Koi no Yukon

MAME won this year, y’all. We all have complicated feelings about her, but she’s secured a loving adaptation from a Japanese team that’s put solid effort into bringing her characters to life. Every character feels correct compared to their Thai counterpart we saw on screen, and that’s a strong sign that the writing behind MAME’s work is strong, even if we all have issues with the way she tackles certain themes. I’m really impressed with this adaptation, and really like this version of Rain.I also feel like this show is doing a better job blending the forthcoming couple focus shift.

Our Youth

We just got this show, but damn does it feel sharp! I’m always going to be a sucker for a cinephile character, and I’m so compelled by the way Minase is drawn to Hirukawa. The scene in episode 2 where Minase has to leave Hirukawa’s house might be one of the most impressive sequences we’ve had in a while, requiring a great deal of choreography and effort from the actors and the camera crew to pull off, and I’m excited to see how these characters split and then come back together. 

Smells Like Green Spirit

Let me just say that I need another Abe Alan appearance when he isn’t playing a character doing horrible things to his students. I’ve enjoyed meditating on the 90s with this show and what that era felt like. I’ve liked how the show has tried to focus on how different parents (especially the moms) have responded to their kids coming to terms with themselves. I’ve also really enjoyed the friendship that’s grown between Mishima and Kirino. I’m struggling with Yumeno a lot, because I’m really not a friend of bully romances. Still, I feel like this is one of those shows I’ll remember for a long time because of its focus on the 90s. 

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days

I think @lurkingshan covered reactions to episode 5 and episode 6 better than I could, and I loved @twig-tea giving context for the film history moment in episode 6. I remember screaming into the chat for friends to show up for this when I got to that moment. This show has two great pairs of dynamics going on that mirror well. It’s got such a strong handle on its characters’ motivations and how they would respond to the actions from each other. It’s probably the tightest thing I’m watching now, backed by extremely dialed-in performances. I will be thinking about Qi Lu organizing his potential first kiss with Qin Xiao, and how unapologetic he’s been about the entire affair. He’s being selfish here, but I kinda like it. I’m so thankful that we are somehow still getting this show, because goddamn do the Chinese actors deliver on chemistry sometimes.

Interview With the Vampire Season 2

I finished this with a friend last week, and holy fuck is this show still so, so good. We watch a lot of gay romance because of BL, and I am having so much fun watching the show about gay divorce. I loved the time we spent in Paris, Daniel’s shifting role in the narrative, and the new insights we got into Lestat this season. I will miss Claudia so much, and I have to give a standing ovation to Delainey Hayles stepping into the role of Claudia and doing the damn thing this season. I just love seeing my little fucked up gay people torment each other on screen.

I'm still thinking about Louis and Lestat reuniting in a hurricane after Claudia derided this as yet another chapter in their stormy romance.

Dropped Shows

Unfortunately, everyone can’t win. Some of these shows are just too long for me to keep up with them, and oftentimes I get bored. I’ve currently dropped:

Lovesick 2024 - I may go back. We’ll see

Jack & Joker - It’s just too long, and they just killed Jennie and a kid. I’m good.

Fourever You - I’m bored with Earth always playing this character type.

Pluto - Namtam and Film are beautiful, but this looks too messy right now.

Every You, Every Me - Wasn’t intrigued after episode 1, but the commentary may draw me back.

Kidnap - Ohm is not enough to keep me invested in this show. 

Uncle Unknown - How did they make a 6 minute show feel slow?

I’m genuinely not trying to be harsh to Thai shows out here, but I just do not have the time to keep up with all of them when they’re this long and dragging.

Thanks for stopping by, and let me know if there’s something I missed that I should check out.

[finnfrei]

Hope you don't mind me asking again of your bard and her dragonborn? 😅

It’s getting hard to refuse a chance to rant about them, especially now as we have finished the campaign🌝

I keep thinking about this one scene after Clio got back from an adventure that almost became the party’s last one. They got to meet the gods of their realm or those who claimed to be ones. One of them turned out to be her sister’s patron, the other unwillingly caused vivid nightmares that were haunting Clio for more than five years reminding her about the assault she and her sister barely survived. Our oathbreaker paladin also had a time of his life meeting the god he used to serve. The party almost died there trying to prevent the destruction of their civilisation and death of everyone they love along with it. Her sister did die in a way there.

After killing some gods and saving the world, learning and surviving things she couldn’t even begin to comprehend, Clio got back home to the Iron City. She stormed to an ongoing council meeting in an iconic Aragorn at Helm’s Deep fashion, telling the story about what they’ve been through, explaining the recent global calamity and how they’ve managed to stop it. The utter awe on faces of other members of the council, including Hescan’s, brought bard the satisfaction she was seeking. Clio couldn’t quite grasp it but something was different about the way her chief looked at her. Last time she saw him he told her he was falling deep for her… or it was just a fever she had then, she couldn’t tell, she wasn’t sure. The man she was talking to through the communication ring during the adventure seemed to be the same unbothered and cold Dragonborn she knows for a few years now. Something shifted and for the first time she felt her hands sweating in his presence.

…

“I could’ve actually lost you this time,” he said in a quieter voice when they were finally alone and she noticed the slight shiver in chief’s voice. Clio’s heart clenched in her chest, he meant it. He worried about her.

That evening and the night that came after he was gentle, caring. That was new. Of course, he always made sure not to hurt her, unless she wanted to, but he never really expressed his affection like that. Not that it was unpleasant, it surprised and puzzled her.

…

“I was thinking…” he stumbled during a pillow talk a few hours later, “you know…maybe we should start spending more time together?”. She could’ve sworn she saw a blush coming through those emerald scales of his.

“I need to talk to you,” she sighed feeling tense and set up on the edge of the bed.

Hescan stood up, got around the bed, poured and passed a goblet of wine to the girl also taking one for himself.

“You know,” she started, “I believed my twin was dead there for some time. We had a huge fight right before that. All I could think about were things I should’ve told her or done and would never get a chance to.”

Hescan set quietly on his knees on the floor across from his little spy and was looking up at Clio as she proceeded, “And then I thought, what if we fail the whole “world saving” thing and I will never get to see you again. There’re things I regret I haven’t told you.” she stopped, trying to regain composure, “I have met someone,” she said avoiding looking at him at first, “He’s wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so safe and peaceful with anyone before.”

She could see the tension, anger and confusion building in his face.

“I feel seen. He looked into me and managed to bring back the girl even I believed was long gone, hiding under the myriad of different masks. He listens and he hears every word I say,” she smiles feeling already embarrassed of what she’s going to say next, “And despite all the common sense, I… I trust him.”

“What…” Hescan utters quietly, breaking the silence that filled the room. The look of anger, pain and the sticky feeling of betrayal washing over him.

“I trust him,” she repeats, “and I trust him my heart. I trust he will take good care of it.” Clio reaches with her hand and gently touches Dragonborn’s chest over his heart as she asks softly, “You will take care of it for me, wouldn’t you?”

The girl was waiting for a moment, watching as the anger on Hescan’s face changed to confusion and then the sparkle in his eyes as he glanced back at her when realisation finally hit him.

“I’m going to kill you!” he growled as he pounced at her, pushing her back on the soft bed. The girl giggled in his strong embrace, feeling the pressure of his body over hers.

“I need to hear it, my heart” she pleaded, pushing him away just enough to look him in the eyes.

He smiled softly and whispered, “I love you.” as he gently bit the arch of her neck, “you’re safe,” he followed with a kiss.

[honeyhotteoks]

do you have any advice on like getting better with writing?

hey! i definitely do!! i’ve talked about this before but i have a lot of new readers, so ill start off by saying i’ve been writing for my entire life, and im 30 so thats a lot of years. if you’re a new writer, trust me i used to be there and good god if you guys could see the stuff i published in old fandoms 💀 really, really bad haha

i only say that because i by no means consider myself a great writer, there are fic writers in this space alone that i’m always so floored by and look up to…. but people have been very kind about my writing style and it’s something that took time to develop it’s not something i just “had”. outside of fic, i was a literature and creative writing major, and got very used to writing and workshopping pieces.

now! onto some actual advice —

1. read a lot and read more, but read stuff you actually like and not stuff you feel pressured to read. i love high brow litfic as much as the next pretentious english major, but i started writing a ton after reading a bunch of kindle unlimited romance because it was fun and it got me inspired

2. watch well written television for dialogue and pacing. people do not talk in proper english, they don’t say things eloquently, and there’s a lot of filler and fluff. that’s good! that’s real, so i love well written tv to show me how it’s done

3. get comfortable writing in weird ways. for years i used to sit down and be like “ah okay so chapter one” and then i was stuck, stalled out, and just felt bad about the process. when i started writing both aurora and tnt, i started in the middle. i had an image of a scene in my mind (for tnt it was actually the claim attempt) and i just wrote it out and then bounced around later

4. outlines are your friend! sometimes i’ll get a random line of dialogue in my head or an image but that doesn’t mean i’m ready to write it. i throw it in one big outline so i don’t lose it.

5. if you’re wanting to write really good smut i have two suggestions but please only do this to your personal comfort level. this is what works for me but do not make yourself uncomfortable— for good smut, i watch porn for reference and for good dirty talk, i listen to nsfw audio. i like to really write the visuals for smut and make it immersive but lol i haven’t experienced everything ive written about and logistics of the body are hard!! i usually find a video or an audio and let that help guide the imagery im writing.

6. be comfortable with the editing process. i know the temptation to post something the minute you finish it is there, but sleep on it. come back and edit it, read the dialogue out loud if you have to. i swear you’ll make the piece better just by leaving it and coming back.

7. don’t be afraid to post. most people are kind, and the worst thing that will happen is you don’t get a lot of notes. that’s okay, it’s a process.

8. research! as i’m writing anything, even a silly little oneshot, im doing research on something. i am hyper aware that im not korean and have never spoken korean or lived in korea, so for my fic i try my hardest to ground elements of that in reality. i truly cannot tell you how many hours ive spent reading like korean case law on revenge porn just for like 3 lines of dialogue. and you don’t have to go that crazy, i’m arguably too intense, but i do think some of that helps the story and the dialogue feel real.

9. describe something real- every place in my writing is based on something real. every apartment, hotel, cafe, venue, etc., they’re all either something i’ve found online or drawn from my life and use that to my advantage. i use apartment listings and save photographs, i do google map walks to see what neighborhoods look like, anything to get the feel of a place or an experience. for the christmas chapters of aurora, i watched hours of gwangju walking tour videos on youtube while i was writing just to understand how to describe their walk in the snow. it really helps me to have a visual that i can put words to.

10. find your weak points and see what other writers do differently. if you want to improve, you should find a small place to start. is it dialogue? overall plot? smut? etc. - i’ll never forget being on a creative writing retreat, and a very important writing professor said to me “everything you write is very pretty but you haven’t said anything. you have to decide to say something.” that feedback hurt, but sent me down a much better writing path when i realized where i was falling short and not challenging myself.

okay i hope some of this was helpful and if it’s a mess im sorry im on mobile. i really just love writing so deeply and will always talk about it, so i hope this was helpful 💗

[ruwhimsical]

“I WASN’T LEADING YOU ON, GIRL!”

He was no longer the sloppy volleyball player you hung out with, but he still was your best friend—right?

cw : heavy angst , slight fluff , gn!reader , miscommunication , hidden feelings , reader has some ass friends , idk what else !!just read and find out😈

——

You invited your friends to the MSBY match, knowing they’d be more than happy to accept. They weren’t your closest friends—just people you met along the way during university—but they were better company than going alone. The thought of running into Hinata by yourself made you uneasy.

One of your friends kept gushing about how all the players on the team were “eye candy.” This was typical for them—they’d always openly talk about guys they liked during class, feigning ignorance about how uncomfortable it made you. But you never said anything, afraid they’d drop you if you did.

Right now, though, you were thankful for their chatter. It was a convenient distraction from your thoughts, especially with Hinata on your mind. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to suppress the awkwardness when you saw him. The dread was already building in your stomach, even before the match had started. You knew he’d search for you in the crowd afterward, probably try to strike up a conversation. But what did he even want from you now?

The three of you made your way to the stands, your friends ahead, engrossed in a conversation you didn’t care to join. You took your designated seats.

“I’m so excited for this, oh my god! Do you think I could get Sakusa to sign my shirt?” one of your friends exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement.

“Be so for real… he’d probably send the biggest dirty your way,” the other one snorted, earning a playful slap on the shoulder.

You tuned them out, your eyes scanning the arena. Then, your focus landed on MSBY’s number 21. Your “best friend”—or at least, that’s what you used to call him.

But that was before he cut you off. You had no right to crawl back into his life. He’d made that clear two years ago when you heard the news of his departure—not from him, but from Kageyama, of all people.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the velocity of a spike sent the ball smashing into the floor. You glanced at the scoreboard: Hinata had already scored a point for his team.

“Hey, Y/N… isn’t that orange-haired guy the one who invited you here?” one of your friends asked, piquing the curiosity of the other.

“Oh my god… are you guys secretly dating or something?” your friend giggled, leaning in with a mischievous grin, clearly trying to pry the answer out of you.

“It’s not like that,” you said quickly, offering a half-smile. How you wished it were, but that was a fantasy. “We just hung out during school. He messaged me and asked if I wanted to come, nothing crazy.”

“Bummer… but I won’t lie, he’s a really good player,” she said, slumping down in her seat.

You looked back at the arena, and there he was—Hinata, darting around the court with the same speed and stamina you remembered, reminding you of his old self. Maybe he hadn’t changed that much, after all. But then you noticed the difference—his movements were no longer sloppy. They were controlled, smooth, as if every motion had purpose. He was confident, proud, the embodiment of someone who’d truly grown.

The sight brought a bittersweet smile to your face. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of admiration for how far he’d come. But looking at the back of his jersey, you were reminded of the cold, hard truth.

To achieve his dreams, he’d had to create distance. He had chosen to leave you behind to pursue them, likely never telling you in fear of you trying to stop him. You weren’t selfish—you would have fought for him. But maybe he saw you as a threat to his ideal life. He cut you off without a word, leaving you to fill in the blanks.

Now, here he was, trying to waltz back into your life. But you knew it wouldn’t feel the same. No matter how friendly he acted, no amount of effort could erase the two years of radio silence between the two of you.

You were no longer on the same wavelength. He had become someone who lived in a different world—out of reach.

——

As the match comes to an end with MSBY claiming victory, the stands erupt with energy. Fans rise to their feet, reporters swarm toward the sweaty players, and long lines form as eager supporters clutch their merchandise, hoping for a chance at an autograph. You, on the other hand, are desperate to leave, debating whether to send Hinata a quick text with an excuse that the commotion is too overwhelming to meet him.

But before you can make your escape, your friends pull you toward the crowd surrounding the players, hoping to catch their attention. You stand awkwardly on the outskirts, silently begging for this to end. Then, a light tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you feel your heart lurch, nearly stopping altogether.

There he is—the one and only Hinata Shoyo, smiling as if the past two years had never even happened.

He stands before you, now 5’7”, his once-boyish frame replaced by a lean, muscular build honed by endless practice and the fierce Brazilian sun, which left his skin with a tan that hasn’t faded. You realize you might not have recognized him if he hadn’t spoken first. This isn’t the same 5’4” kid you used to spend your days with. He’s different now—almost a stranger.

“Hey y/n, I’m so glad you could make it,” the change in his voice catches you off guard, making it hard to come to terms with the fact that he’s standing in front of you—not as the third-year high schooler you once knew, but as a professional athlete.

“Yeah…” At a loss for words, you try to shift his attention away from your awkward demeanor.

“You were great out there, I almost didn’t believe that was you,” you shoot him a nervous smile, hands tucked behind your back.

“Of course! They don’t call me Ninja Shoyo for nothing,” he puffs out his chest, attempting to impress you—but it only makes you laugh.

It almost—almost—reminds you of how things used to be. Maybe you could pick up the pieces of the friendship you two left behind, after all. And if you’re lucky, you might even be able to make something new blossom between the two of you.

“What’s so funny? I’m being serious, you know!” He glares at you, but then, he stops. He notices the way your eyes soften, and it hits him—he misses this. He missed you. He can’t let you slip through his fingers now that you’re finally here, standing before him.

“Y/N!!” One of your friends rushes toward you, pulling you away from him before you can reply. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.” You know she’s lying, but the way she eyeing Hinata and disregarding your existence burns.

“I’m your biggest fan! You’re so fine,” your friend says, grasping Hinata’s hand.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hinata flashes his best fan smile, like it’s second nature. But the one thing that hasn’t changed? Your ability to read him like an open book.

A surge of anger courses through your veins. Whether it’s jealousy or something else, you’re not sure, but it’s enough to push you into action. You need a way out of this awkward scene—and quickly. Then, you notice the subtle glance Hinata gives you, and it sparks your idea.

“Hinata, how’s your foot? Does it still hurt?” You look at him, hoping he’ll catch on.

Quick as ever, he feigns pain, rubbing his leg. “Yeah, now that you mention it, it does kind of hurt.”

“Oh, why don’t I help you get to the first aid? It’d be a shame if you couldn’t play your next match because of this,” you suggest, shifting to offer him your support. He carefully leans on you, but you can tell he’s being cautious, not wanting to put too much weight on you.

“Bye, guys! You can head on without me!” You hear their confused, skeptical glances, but you ignore them. You escort him outside, where their prying eyes won’t be able to reach.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Hinata bends down, holding his knee while resting against the wall. He looks up at you with a small, grateful smile.

“Don’t you deal with fans like that all the time?” you cross your arms, a cool demeanor returning as you lock eyes with him.

“Yeah, but it’s not every day I get to see you,” he says, a smile that’s real, not the one he gives desperate fans. It’s the smile of someone who’s been missing you, someone who’s never forgotten you.

“If those are your actual friends, I feel bad for you,” he adds, and you can’t help but feel a mix of dread and anger. You want to keep the mood light, but there’s something inside you that just won’t let it go. You can’t ignore the hurt anymore.

“Yeah, you could’ve been my friend if you hadn’t left without a word two years ago.” The words are out before you can stop them, and you watch as his smile falters, his gaze shifting away from you—avoiding it, as if running from the confrontation. But you’re not going to let him run again.

He turns away, looking at the ground, but the guilt is clear. His posture stiffens, as if he’s struggling to find the right words.

“About that… it was kind of hard to break the news,” he admits, and you almost see red. The anger wells up in you again as you whip your face toward him, seeing the tension in his clenched jaw. He’s distressed.

Your mind spirals, hurt and confusion overwhelming you. Did he think I was a nuisance? Did he forget about me? Or worse… did he not even care?

“What do you mean? You told everyone else with ease.” You scoff, trying to suppress the rush of emotions. You thought maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to fix things. But it’s clear now—he’s not on the same page.

“You’re different…” he says quietly, his voice breaking the tension.

You’re caught off guard, the air thick with the weight of his words. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to process it all.

“You’re special to me…” he continues, his voice soft, like he’s testing the waters. “There was just no way I could tell you without breaking down. I knew that if I told you face-to-face, I would’ve started doubting my decision. And you know how much volleyball means to me.”

“So do I not mean as much?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. You laugh bitterly. Does he think that’s a good enough excuse?

“You could’ve texted me, you know,” you mutter under your breath, but the words are sharp with the sting of betrayal.

“I know… but I had hoped if I just said nothing, then we could pick up where we left off when I got back. It’d be as if nothing had changed at all.”

Nothing had changed at all? The anger in you swells.

“You’re so selfish…” Your voice cracks, but you hold it together. “Do you know how many pitiful glances people gave me whenever your name was mentioned? How I spent months unable to function because I thought my best friend hated me? I doubted if you even considered me a friend!”

You feel your heart pounding as you try to keep it together. The frustration, the hurt, the confusion—all of it comes rushing back in a tide of emotion. The anger takes over, but beneath it is a vulnerability you refuse to show.

“I don’t hate you…” He steps closer to you, his hands reaching out to gently take yours. “I could never hate you. I loved you, okay? I loved you, and I was afraid that if we stayed in touch, you wouldn’t be interested anymore. That I wouldn’t have time for you.”

The words hang in the air, suffocating you. He’s desperate. You can feel it, the weight of the years that passed between you two. It’s almost too much to bear.

“You could’ve told me before…” The words escape you in a whisper. “I would’ve tried. I would’ve made it work. Clearly, you undermine how much I care about you. When have I ever been bored of you?”

His eyes gleam with that hope again. “We can start fresh. Forget the last two years. Let’s make it work, please…”

You want to give in. You want to run into his arms and forget everything. But you can’t. You know it won’t be the same. You know that you can’t ignore the hurt of the past two years.

“I don’t think we can…” You pull your hands away from his grasp. The scene plays out slowly in his eyes as you begin to walk away from him—the same way he walked away from you.

“I’m sorry, Hinata. I just can’t bring myself to act like those two years didn’t happen.” Your voice cracks, but you don’t turn around.

And for the first time, it was his turn to feel the anguish you’ve carried all this time.

extra :

—> FREE ME exams are around the corner and instead of studying I’m doing this lol!😂😂😂😭😂😭😂😭😂😭😂

—> gulps i hope u guys enjoyed this cause I certainly did not enjoy writing ts!!

—> help i lowkey feel like no one gets the songs the thaf i reference as my title

—> this how we coping chat ….👅

© banner and writing belongs to ruwhimsical 2024. do not repost

mlist

[fluentmoviequoter]

Whole Again

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You're injured during a raid, but your boyfriend Luca doesn't know how bad it is. After you're separated and instructed not to speak, your team finds a way to let you comfort one another.

Warnings: angst, r is shot, a civilian is killed during a raid, fluffy comfort!

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“One more thing,” Hondo says as you approach the raid location in Black Betty.

“He’s going to hear us coming at this rate, Hondo,” you complain playfully.

“Maybe you can just talk until he surrenders,” Street agrees. “It wouldn’t take long for me.”

“Funny,” Hondo replies, even though you can tell he is amused. “You must want me to say something about the little fling going on here.”

“There isn’t a fling,” Luca calls from the driver’s seat. “And Hicks knows about the relationship.”

“But nice try,” you add.

“Stay liquid,” Hondo concludes, shaking his head as he smiles.

“Fifteen seconds,” Deacon alerts, sitting in the front by Luca.

“Let’s do this!”

You pull your helmet over your head and prepare to exit Black Betty as Luca stops three houses down from your final destination. The man holed up in the dilapidated bungalow down the road has warrants for three violent crimes and has racked up enough charges in fees from missing court over the years to pay off every student loan in America, you think. He’s dangerous, but you trust your team, and patrol officers have given you good intel. Right now, his house is as quiet as it gets. He should be inside, asleep, and likely won’t even know SWAT raided his home until he wakes up in jail later today.

“We got this,” Luca whispers beside you.

“Be careful,” you reply before splitting up.

Luca goes with Deacon to the west side of the house, and you branch off with Street to enter through the back door. Your relationship with Luca isn’t new, but it’s still growing. Luckily for today, you’re out of the stage where being away from him during a breach like this terrified you and it was hard to breathe until you saw him on the other side.

You take a deep breath as Street counts down with Hondo. The explosive on the door blows loudly, and Street leads you into the kitchen at the back of the house as you cover him.

Very quickly, you realize that all of the intel was bad. Hondo curses over the comms, and you begin yelling with your teammates.

“LAPD SWAT!” you yell with Street. “On the ground now! Everybody on the floor!”

The rest of your team is out of sight, caught in different parts of the house, but you can hear them shouting commands. In the kitchen and living room, standing before you and Street, at least 30 men are pushing toward you slowly, speaking to one another in Spanish when they aren’t yelling at you.

“Any ideas?” you ask Street.

“Flash bang?” he replies.

You nod and trade places with him, holding your gun against your shoulder. Several shots echo through the house as Street pulls the small flash-bang from his pocket. Unable to tell where the shots came from, if it was your team shooting or being shot at, you force yourself to focus.

“Back up!” you yell as a man steps toward you.

Just before Street throws the device, someone at the back of the crowd raises a pistol. You begin to warn Street, but you don’t get the chance. Before you hear the shot, the bullet knocks you backward and throws you against Street. He scrambles away from you quickly to keep the men away from you. Three flash bangs detonate simultaneously, and 50 Squad enters the front door to provide much-needed backup.

“Everybody good?” Rocker asks as patrol officers begin escorting the disoriented criminals out of the house.

“I think so,” Hondo replies. “Deacon and Luca are with me.”

Luca looks around, expecting you to walk out of the hallway joking with Street.

“Hondo!” Street yells from the kitchen.

Luca’s chest tightens, his heart feels like it leaps dangerously in his chest, and he steps forward to follow Hondo with pure fear running through his veins.

“Hold it!” Hicks calls, walking into the house with Jessica at his side. “20 Squad, get out of here.”

Hondo explains that something is up with you and Street, but Hicks repeats himself. Rocker nods and then disappears around the corner into the kitchen and doesn’t speak again.

“You can’t talk before the investigation begins,” Jessica adds.

“He didn’t make it?” Hondo asks, remembering the man who was shot.

Jessica shakes her head, and Hondo leaves the house without knowing how his team is. As Deacon prepares to follow him, he pushes Luca forward gently.

“I know,” Deacon says softly. “But we have to go.”

Rocker returns just as Luca stumbles out of hearing distance and requests a medic get inside. The same medic who announced the civilian DOA rushes into the house with a large medical bag bouncing against his hip. Street, however, is told to leave and grumbles as he exits the house.

“I’m fine,” you grumble as he kneels beside you. “It hit my vest.”

The medic pulls your vest over your head carefully, then unbuttons your uniform shirt and pulls the neck of your undershirt away from your chest. He shines a small flashlight against your skin before letting your shirt fall back into place.

“No hospital trip for you today,” he says. “You’re going to be sore and have a painful bruise for a few days, but your vest did its job.”

“Where’s my team?” you ask, hissing as you sit up.

“Headed back to HQ,” Jessica says.

You look up quickly, surprised to see her here.

“A civilian was shot, he’s dead,” she explains. “Until we figure out who took the shot, you can’t see them.”

“I need to tell Luca I’m okay,” you argue. “Two words, please.”

“I’m sorry.”

You stand, refusing her help as you follow another officer to a cruiser. As you fall into the passenger seat, tired and sore, you wonder how Luca will react to this sudden separation.

When you arrive at the station, you get permission to change in the locker room before taking your place in a private room to speak to Internal Affairs. The door closes behind you, and Luca steps out of the shower area, still wearing his tactical gear. He rushes toward you and carefully takes your shoulders as his eyes travel up and down your frame.

You take his hands and smile as you promise, “I’m okay.”

Luca hugs you carefully, though it's more him awkwardly wrapping his arms around you than hugging. “What did the medic say?” he asks.

Before you can answer or get too comfortable in his hold, an IA investigator opens the door and demands, “Officer Luca, we need you.”

“Can I get just a second?” he requests.

“No.”

You can see Luca’s attitude shift as he steps back. He doesn’t want to leave your side while you’re injured, and being forced to makes him grumpy. But he’s a good officer, and he’s going to listen. For a while, at least.

“I’m sorry, Luca,” Hicks says in the hallway. “But it’s protocol.”

“I don’t even know what happened to her!” he argues.

“And you won’t until after we’re finished. But I can promise you she’s okay.”

Luca stops outside the door where the IA team is waiting. He lowers his voice to reply, “She got shot, Hicks, you know she isn’t.”

Several minutes later, you exit the locker room in the most comfortable clothes you could find. After finding a place to sit and wait, you watch the hallway opening, hoping that Luca will come down here at some point and you can explain everything to him.

“Luca!” you call as he exits an office.

He steps backward, then turns to walk toward you.

“Officer Luca,” the officer behind him directs. “This way, please.”

Luca’s jaw tightens as his anger increases. The grumpiness he showed in the locker room was cute, you thought, but he’s getting worse. If you don’t get a chance to tell him what the medic said soon, he might snap and get himself in trouble. So, you decide to find an opening to promise you’re okay.

“Officer Luca,” the man repeats. You look up again, surprised to see Luca squaring his shoulders before the other man. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he warns lowly.

Luca’s fingers tighten into a fist, but he turns and storms away. You exhale in relief, then stand and follow them at a distance. The officer instructs Luca to wait by the sparring ring, then walks into Hick’s office.

Because he’s alone, you walk to Luca's side and bend forward to kiss his cheek. After kissing his cheek, you begin to pull away from him. “The medic said I’d be sore and bruised for a while, but the vest kept the bullet from doing any real damage. I’m absolutely okay, Luca. I promise.”

Luca nods, and says, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You walk away from Luca and feel his eyes on you until you turn the corner to return to your previous place.

“Where were you?” Jessica asks.

“I needed a tissue,” you lie. “Are they ready for me?”

“Not yet. Do you need anything?”

You sit down and shake your head. The only thing you need is Luca, and you already know the answer to that request.

You let your eyes close as you continue to wait. Soft footsteps echo in the hallway before they stop beside you. You recognize Luca’s touch as he lays his hand on your thigh and squats beside you. Opening your eyes, you smile and lean forward to wrap him in a hug. He reciprocates, being careful of where he touches you.

“Incoming,” someone warns from the end of the hall.

As Luca stands, you see Street standing guard and smile to thank him.

“We’re going to get time to talk,” Luca promises. “I’ll be back.”

You assume that the rest of your team will assist him in returning, likely aware of how worried he is. Over the next few hours, you’re all in and out of interviews with IA to account for every move and every breath you took in the house. Between those conversations, you and Luca find each other in quiet hallways, behind open doors, and tucked behind lockers for tiny moments to talk and show each other that you’re okay. The worry goes both ways: Luca is worried about your injury and you’re worried about his happiness and carrying residual concern about losing sight of him during the raid. The little moments aren’t enough, but they’re something, and your team helps you find every spare second you can.

Hiding behind Hondo so it appears that he and Luca are simply facing opposite directions to bide time, you ask, “Can I come over tonight?”

“If you think there’s another option, we need to get your head checked.”

“Sergeant Hondo, we’re ready for you,” someone calls before you duck around a corner and return to solitude.

Twenty minutes later, Hicks and Hondo exit his office together.

“20 Squad!” Hicks calls.

You join Deacon’s side, and he offers you an arm, unsure what the extent of your injury is. You smile and thank him, but don’t have a chance to tell him why you said no before Hicks dismisses you.

“IA has cleared all of you, you’re free to go home and get some rest,” he adds. “Sorry again about all of this, but…”

“We know how it is,” Deacon responds.

You take Luca’s hand as you walk to the locker room, and don’t let go as you gather your things and walk to his truck. The ride to his house is spent in silence. There’s too much to say, too many emotions involved, to have the conversation in the car.

Luca helps you inside and invites you to get comfortable. Once you’re in his bed, he climbs beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. Turning slightly, you let Luca rest his head on your shoulder as his other arm lies gently across your waist.

“Are you okay?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back.

Luca moves slightly, and you suddenly realize that he’s crying. You slide down in the bed, not caring that it hurts, to take his face in your hands.

“Luca,” you murmur, holding him tightly. “It’s okay.”

You fall silent then and let Luca release all the emotions he’s been carrying since this morning. Several minutes later, he quiets but keeps his arm around you as you hold him.

“I’m okay,” you promise softly. “I’m sorry.”

Luca shakes his head, silently promising he’s not angry with you. “I thought I was going to lose you. It terrified me.”

“Hey,” you whisper, encouraging him to look into your eyes. “I’m never leaving you.”

“You can’t make that promise.”

You nod, then amend, “I’m not leaving you, not without a fight. I’ll come back to you, even if I’m crawling, okay?”

Luca hugs you tightly, then releases you to say, “Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?”

You laugh at his reaction, getting close to him again. “I’m great now. I love you, Luca.”

“I love you,” he replies. “I’m not leaving you either.”

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t punch anyone in IA.”

Luca groans, dropping his head against your shoulder. You feel whole again beside Luca despite the pain and fear of the day. Luca’s phone vibrates with a text from Street asking when Luca will cook to thank them for helping you today, and though you ignore it, knowing that your team cares about you and your relationship makes everything a little better.

[errruvande]

Fanfic writer interview

Thank you @thelettersfromnoone for the tag!! 💖

How many work do u have on AO3?

3, not your local AO3 girlie lmao

What's your total AO3 word count?

8 534

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes

I'll go with Tumblr ones, cause from my 3 AO3 works the biggest number I got is 31 lmao

Anyone but you (Legolas x f!reader)

Night watch (Legolas x Reader)

Well-deserved rest (Haldir x f!Reader)

One messy night (Boromir x f!Reader)

Transition (Haldir x f!Reader)

Honorable mention (since it's not fics but headcanons)

Green Council receiving a hot pic from you (HotD)

TLK men's reaction on being pet named

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to respond to comments! These little things are brightening up my day, so I wanna let the people know that they are my heroes hahaha

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I really think it's Transition. All in all it's a pretty dark story, a bit depressing I think (I had these intentions while writing at least).

Otherwise, I don't think I have angsty endings fics?

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

New family members for sure!! Was thinking hard what to choose, cause I think all of my happy ending fics are on the pretty same level on a happy scale, but I remember that I have this gen, non romantic baby and I love it so much ❤️‍🩹 There's a little TLK OMC for y'all

Do you write crossovers?

I wanted to say I've never done this BUT THEN!!! My Assassin's Creed (Ezio) x LOTR little headcanon!!! My beloved child!!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, not that I remember getting any hate on my fics

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, tho not much and on rare occasions. I used to write a lot of smut when I was younger (a teen), then I stopped being comfortable with it for a wild few years (tho reading never made me uncomfortable lmao).

Now I started writing smut again, idk what kind? Don't really understand what does that mean lol F x M traditional sex? Pretty detailed? If so, then yes lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't know 😂 Maybe, maybe not. I think rather not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge, I don't think so.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

We tried with my friend a long long time ago. Didn't go well lmao It's hard and kinda stressing, cause you never know what the other person is gonna write (at least we had this SURPRISE system), so... You kinda have zero plot cause everything you want to write plot-wise can be ruined by the second person's plot lmao

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Athelnar?? Athelstan and Ragnar were my first ever OTP (quickly followed by Alfred and Uhtred). You could never beat that Athelnar shit out of my body lmao I've never written for them, but oh I do love them boys!

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Now, that's the HARSH one lmao

I think I have at least 3 OC stories that I really wanna write (2 for TLK and one for LOTR), but I'm scared that I will never actually do it. I never was good with multi chaptered stories, and these are indeed not a one shots 🥲

What are your writing strengths?

Ugh... I don't know? I think I was pretty good with dialogues and descriptions of the surroundings to build the atmosphere. But... I guess it's not for me to decide but for the readers?

What are your writing weaknesses?

I rarely finish what I've started lmao I should write everything in one go or else I'll never finish it... Or will finish it in two months even if it's a 2k words one shot

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I love them! I've only done it with my LOTR fics (with Sindarin) but I really love it. But I really love it when the language is different from the language of the settings? Like, if the story is happening in England and everyone is English, but you have two characters who can speak idk Dutch, let them have a Dutch language in their dialogue. I had a rant post about it not that long ago actually lmao You have to think about your in-universe language

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Ahhh Bungou Stray Dogs! I love them, and I'd gladly try to write something for them. Not a character/character but reader my beloved.

And maybe Stephane Narcisse (reign) my beloved and a reader

What's your favorite fic you've written?

The blood on my hands (Eomer) and Peace (Finan) are definitely my fave ones I think. They are dark and both explore some trauma

No pressure tags: @whitedarkmoonflower @lord-aldhelm @holy3cake @gemini-mama @emilyhufflepufftlk @persephones-journey @solinarimoon @mrsalwayswrite @emmanuellececchi @bilbotargaryen @levithestripper @mrsarnasdelicious @paula-in-dreamland

[space-blue]

I still cant wrap my head around how vi eventually joined enforcers after years spent in prison and cop brutalities she experienced first hand. I’d try to rationalize it but The only logical reason i can think of is because of Cait and vi’s bias towards her that influenced her to join enforcers

I think, the issue that Arcane presents with Vi is one of archetypes.

Some fans have a tendency, even in my own posts notes, to defend and construct Vi as a real person. But she isn't. She's a fully fictional character, part of the great human art of storytelling.

I think that the issue at hand is that Vi's story as depicted in Arcane, doesn't follow very normal/standard/popular archetypes.

Her backstory is that her and her family are relentlessly harmed by cops, she spends half her teenage years in the worst prison. It would be a great backstory for someone like say, SILCO!!! Someone who goes on to hate Piltover and go to great and terrible lengths to oppose and fight them.

Transitioning her to her "game end state" is extremely hard, because her in-game status is that of a cop who polices her own people for Piltover;s sheriff. Ekko has barks that call her out for betraying Zaun. Vi used to have barks that were police brutality jokes. She has art where she's a US like donught eating cop. It's a vibe, and not a vibe that screams "I was abused by police my entire life!"

In the show we're not there yet, and we may not even go there at all (I'm of the opinion that if they make her Vander 2.0 it'll be more palatable and also provide a new skin to rack the money in with.)

But the transition is pretty brutal because they hurried to sell us on a Caitvi romance in season 1.

I think more people now are feeling iffy about Vi's actions because she goes along with the whole gassing operation, but IMO it is consistant with what we see from her in season 1. I'll explain.

I've seen the argument around that she only joins because the other option would be worse and she's basically a limiter for Cait, but no, sorry, she could argue with Cait for Zaun's protection, and be happy she decides on a smaller strike force while being horrified/opposed to the use of the Gray. She could be grateful Cait reduces her actions and still refuse to join her. She could not kiss her in the pipes while they probably both smell of mustard gas lol.

All of Vi's actions put together depict a picture so far, out of 12 episodes, and that picture just isn't very heroic or very nice. It's also very much not archetypal, so it's a lot more unpredictable. Some of her fans also have a tendency of defending her every action instead of embracing the darkness we see peeking through, which muddies the waters.

But I'm now pretty comfortable in my assessment that she's a good Vander 2.0.

She had a hard and broken childhood, ends up hardening and getting skills in prison, but not class consciousness. This isn't shocking, because Silco is taking over Zaun, and she hates that everyone seems to be working for him. Vi has zero awareness that her young self and Silco share the exact same goals (a Zaun that's not inferior to Piltover, where someone like Powder could live happy and safe).

Worse, Vi has her priorities all mixed up. The story is just complex and human. Vi is forced to raise Powder and also lead Claggor and Mylo her entire childhood. That's not great... She basically didn't get to be a child at all. Vander put a shit ton of responsibilities on her. We know from the Enemy video that she was pretty rough at times, which is a realistic depiction of a kid struggling under a lot of pressure in a rough environment. Then the sister who is so difficult to care for goes and kills the whole family seconds before they could all escape, the blow is dealt, they're separated…

And when freed, Vi has now 3 things on her mind:

-find her sister,

-kill Silco and destroy his operation/get revenge,

-and, oh wow that cop lady sure is hot!

Rescuing Zaun from Piltover is nowhere in her head. She complains about the Lanes having easily fallen to Silco, but at no point does the show hint that Vi may have greater goals of rescuing the Lanes from Silco.

Despite Vander's dying wish being "Take care of Powder", Vi's priority list is spoken right to Silco's face: She's going to find Jinx and undo what he's done to her head, but FIRST she will dismantle his business. Like, do you think Vander would be good with that agenda? lol

And don't come into my comments to argue that she's only saying this because she's facing Silco. Vi follows up by hitting Silco's factories and then wiping out the Last Drop and beating Sevika. Let's not forget name dropping her sister to the Council.

Saving Powder just ISN'T HER PRIORITY!!!

So what is her main drive? If it is "getting revenge" then the enemy of her enemy is her friend. Ekko, and Cait.

Vi going to Ekko's Firelight hideout and not becoming an instant member and not returning to them after season 1 also speaks VOLUMES about her priorities and her lack of "belonging" within Zaun.

You'd think she doesn't feel at home in the Lanes but may want to join and help the Firelights, right? They're the hope of Zaun… They're against Silco. But no. In season 2 she remains with Cait, hanging out awkwardly at her palatial home.

She goes and drinks in the street rather than seeking out the Firelights to see if they are fine or if she can help. As far as we can tell, she never saw Ekko after he took a bullet for Cait's plans and then a bomb to the face to stall Jinx!

So she just doesn't have any sense of home, any attachment to Zaun as a place or concept, despite being raised in it. She has resentment for Piltover and enforcers, but not enough to not fall for Cait and bend her principles. She cares for her family, but when it becomes complicated and difficult, she caves and changes her mind. She's also all talk about killing Jinx. She just can't, and after 2 missed opportunities, Cait is also mega fed up with it xD

Now Vi is going to go destroy her life with booze while rising and falling in the pits as a fighter. Then, from the trailers, seems like she'll get her shit together and fight Noxus.

I think in that way she's a Vander-esque character.

Rough start in life. Very angry. Prone to punch first ask later. Then, lacking guidance, they latch onto someone who is happy to give them direction (Silco/Cait). Then comes a breaking point (whatever triggered the drowning of Silco/Cait dumping Vi after the Jinx fight) and they switch to other occupations (running the Lanes/Pit fighting) and this is followed by another trigger that produces their end state as a collaborator (The bridge and adopting the girls/Whatever will happen fighting Noxus).

I think Vi can be given the space to basically gain a healthier view of Piltover (as an occupying force that can't be trusted for Zaun), while also being close to an enforcer for the good of Zaun (Vander worked with Grayson, Vi can work with Cait after Zaun becomes independent).

Vander is also a very flawed character. Lots of fans like to just see him as a sweet loving daddy, but he's a brutal killer who runs a racket business in the undercity lmao. We first meet him killing a man with his gauntlets, and the second scene he's threatening 2 people of death if they don't behave on his turf. Vander lacks the incentive that Shimmer is, so you bet your ass he was staying in power because "hound of the underground" had a gnarly reputation. Even foreigners know him by name.

He's the guy who was insane and violent enough to coldly drown his best friend with his bare hands. And let's not project any fanon here: He straight up apologises to Silco, says he's always regretted his actions, never says he was justified, and never contests Silco calling his actions a "betrayal".

Vander BETRAYED Silco, who trusted him. And Vander tells us he respected Silco, everyone did!

If we saw his arc live before us, I fucking bet it would be as swivelly and mystifying as Vi's. Poor slum kid becomes second in command to fanatical Zaun wannabe leader and revolutionary, creates the Lanes with him, then betrays him by trying to drown him with his bare hands, then takes over the business alone, hides his injuries, then leads a revolt due to some unknown inciting incident, then adopts kids, keeps running a smuggling/racket/protection business, whatever it is, while also collaborating with enforcers in secret, before being killed when his demons catch up with him???

I'm sure there's plenty of moments on such a journey that would make people scratch their heads. It's not very archetypal either.

And as a result Vi also only work if you see her outside archetypes. She's not an abused kid turned revolutionary, Silco style. Or abused kid turned freedom fighter/gang leader, Ekko style. She's not a very good sister, never was, never could be, simply from her circumstances. She's not super loyal because she has pretty weak principles. She's not driven by a strong sense of justice. She gives her word, then goes back on it. Acts strong and talks big and then buckles. And Cait can't have that, since it gets in the way of killing Jinx twice now.

Vi is mostly self interested, and driven by revenge and anger. Now that Silco is dead and revenge obtained, she's falling back on her sweetheart, and her lack of strong principles or loyalty show again, like in scenes where a bit of buttering up make her accept an enforcer badge.

I fully disagree with people who try to tell me she takes the job to protect Zaun! She takes it because she realises how much it would mean to Cait, and she has NOTHING BETTER TO DO with herself. She should be joining Ekko, at a minimum, but she isn't loyal to Zaun and isn't out there to save it. She cares about her family, but this only manifests in her being incapable to actually kill Jinx.

And like, it's OKAY!! Personally I'm okay with that.

I think Vi still has 6 episodes to gain a real, strong conviction, the way Vander did with the kids. And I'm also okay if that ends up being as a collaborator to Piltover. I would have written things differently because I think a longer and more non-romantic build up of trust and care with Cait would have been more beneficial, but I'm liking where things are going, because I've written Vi off as a good character.

She's very grey, and pitiable, but not sympathetic in her choices. A lot like Jinx, too. Jinx is just too cruel and sadistic to be sympathetic, but she's very pitiable.

And neither of the girls' flaws are their fault. They are the by-product of Zaun, of generational trauma and abject poverty and oppression. They are the fucked up women created by Piltover's fucked up rule.

As always, it's all Heimerdinger's fault, and I'm a little frustrated to see him cheapen Ekko's character with his Jar Jar humour right now.

Anyway, that's a pretty long answer, sorry lol

I'm always happy to get Meta posts, so thanks a lot. Don't hesitate to reply and elaborate.

[maybefae]

Full (Super)Moon in Taurus Messages!

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.

Tips!

I want to preface this reading by clarifying that I’m not an astrologer! I enjoy it and I read about different events. On November 15, 2024, we will encounter the Full Supermoon in Taurus. This will be the last supermoon of the year! A supermoon is when the moon appears bigger and brighter in the sky, this one coming a little closer than usual. It magnifies the already heightened energies of a full moon. With it being in Taurus, the usual crazy energies will seem more grounded by this earth sign. However, the moon also aligns with Uranus and Neptune, so even if the energy is grounded, it will also push the boundaries of comfortability to help stimulate growth. Remember: evolving and adaptability is key to survival. Neptune will heighten emotions and psychic senses, so pay attention to dreams. But the main focus will be more in the material realm.

Pile 1

Tarot: Eight of Pentacles, Ten of Swords, Two of Wands, Seven of Cups, Nine of Cups, Six of Swords, Page of Cups, Six of Cups, Eight of Cups, Ace of Swords, Six of Pentacles

Oracle: Forgiveness (horizontal), Good Luck, Confidence, Beauty, Finding

In one of your cards, more specifically the seven of cups, there is an image of two frogs. Frogs can symbolize adaptability, like this moon-Uranus lineup. For some of you, especially since Taurus is linked to Venus (the planet of love, connections, beauty), there could be a message here for people in connections or are wanting to get a connection off the ground. You could be trying out different solutions to any hiccups in your relationships to see if it works. Or you could be willing to see where a new connection goes (could be with someone that you would usually not go for). There is a sense of going with the flow and not having an exact plan. This could make a lot of people uncomfortable, but this lunation tells us that we are pushing our limits a little bit. This person that seems like a gamble could be a wish you have been asking for! I think you two probably have to cultivate together a little for you to see that they are your wish fulfilment.

On the other hand, the frogs also look like a mirror reflection. This love could honestly be with yourself. You are taking the time to work on yourself and to carve yourself out of clay until you’re at your ideal you or ideal life. This could be another wish fulfilment. There is a sense of finally finding yourself after a while. You could honestly be feeling more beautiful and confident within yourself. Especially with other astrological events that deal with ending long and difficult chapters, you could honestly be at the point where you have broken out of people-pleasing ways. It doesn’t mean you don’t care or you don’t have empathy, but you are done helping people that won’t help you.

That being said, you could be leaving a job that wasn’t healthy for you. Somehow you leave, firing or quitting, but it’s a blessing in disguise because it seems like you are looking to chase your dreams. What’s on the other side is something that is worth working hard for. For some, this could just be a promotion. You could be leaving a position that sucks and be promoted into a position that you’ve really wanted and could’ve studied really hard for.

Okay. As I’m doing your reading, I just realized that the cards of this deck create an image when put side by side. And it is 2:22 AM. I’m gonna take it as a sign. Everything will feel like it’s aligning. Especially if you have been dealing with things falling apart or not working out.

There is also a sense of moving on. You are probably someone who hasn’t gotten apologies from people who have hurt/wronged you and it used to eat you up. I think you have gotten over the fact that you won’t get these apologies. If they do end up apologizing it feels more like a “thank you” from you and not an “I accept your apology.” And since you’ve let go of this situation it gives room for good luck and new situations.

Pile 2

Tarot: Five of Cups, Nine of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, The Sun, Six of Wands, Two of Wands, Eight of Cups, Four of Pentacles, Knight of Cups, Ten of Pentacles, Four of Wands, Two of Pentacles, Queen of Cups

Oracle: Finding, Strength, New Beginnings

Before I start with the cards, I want to say that one of the messages I heard was “One of the books you’ve been waiting for is coming out earlier than expected.”

I feel like your oracle cards are a full message in yourself, “Finding the strength in new beginnings.” I think a lot of people are feeling a desire to say “fuck it” and go after something they want. There is a feeling of wasting time being stuck in something that isn’t fulfilling. This energy is carried over from pile 1 but you seem more urgent about it. 

The world is seemingly falling apart and there is a feeling of not wanting to waste time on something that doesn’t make you happy. And you could be feeling the need to follow your heart. There is a goal that you can’t keep your mind off of but it seemed risky before but you are reaching the point where it seems like it won’t hurt to try. It will feel temporarily uncomfortable in the moment (there’s that Uranus energy) but I feel like you have a strong enough foundation to pick yourself up even if there’s a hiccup on the journey. Life is too short not to at least fulfil even the smallest of dreams (which could feel big to you). I think you will be very cheap with your money when you take the leap to walk away but I think it’s a smart idea. As long as you’re following your gut. If something is screaming at you that it’s wrong, then you can find a safety zone. But if it just makes you a little nervous, I think that’s where you will find the most growth. Following dreams will always feel risky.

The message here is to trust yourself. There is a new beginning on the horizon if you find the strength to muscle through a little uncomfortability. Even though your safety bubble is comfy to be in, your dreams won’t happen unless you step out of it (even if it’s just to take a small step). I think you’d be really proud of yourself and how you transform even from a small step towards your goal. (There are blue butterflies in each of your oracle cards.)

Pile 3

Tarot: Page of Swords, Queen of Wands, Page of Wands, Ten of Cups, Eight of Cups, The World, Two of Swords, Two of Cups, Four of Cups, Justice, Page of Cups

Oracle: Empowerment, Talent, Fertility, Friendship

Okay, breathe with me. Breathe in…1…2…3. Breathe out. Again! Breathe in…1…2…3. Breathe out. Before I even pulled the cards, they were giving me a hard time shuffling and it would only go if I relaxed and took a breath. They would also only start shuffling if I did it in a certain direction. Some of you are being stubborn about how you are doing something or you’re stuck in a freeze response. Relax, baby. Lemme see what the cards say. Breathe.

I just wanna get a message out of the way before I carry on to the more general ones. This could just be for one person but one of you could fall pregnant. This pregnancy could come out of the blue and everything seems overwhelming. Maybe you wanted a family but it’s far sooner than you expected or maybe you are going to be a single parent. I want to say that I believe everything is going to work out and your friends are more than willing to help out. Or it’s telling to you rely on your friends during this time.

Alright! So I think you have been bottling up your emotions and thoughts for far too long. The anxious feeling that I was feeling was probably you not speaking up for yourself and now you’re feeling disempowered. You have a very passionate and fiery soul underneath the meek page of swords, Pile 3. Speak up! What you have to say matters and I think you’ll be surprised with how much your thoughts are needed. Even if there is backlash, you will feel a whole lot better once you have gotten your emotions off your chest and thoughts out of your head! It’s not easy but I think it will become easier with time. You also could have a bunch of new ideas for something that could be beneficial. I think all of this mostly takes place in a work environment but take it and apply it to your situation. 

There could also be a message of turning to your friends at this time. They could offer some encouragement. But once you put everything on the table, I think you’ll be surprised with how things work in your favour.

Decks Used: Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot Deck by Matt Hughes, Spellcasting Oracle by Flavia Kate Peters and Barbara Meiklejohn-Free, Oriens Tarot Deck (Mini) by Ambisun, Mystical Manga Tarot by Rann and Barbara Moore

Dividers: @inklore

[cosmossystem]

ok fuck it. system tinder post. yes this is cringe. no i don't care i do what i want forever. NOT a joke post at all (it is a little silly though.) our protectors only let me get away with this because they think it's funny. mostly i just think it's funny because it makes me feel like i'm trying to convince you to adopt us, which is accurate. anyway enjoy my sales pitch

also sorry if this clogs the tags (feel free to block us. there will be no hard feelings) -cass

System Tinder Post

System (20) seeking Partner System(s) (18+)

Are YOU& over 18 and seeking a NEW QPR/PARTNER SYSTEM?? Look no further than US, THE COSMOS. Interested? Have more questions? Want a follow-up interview? Just want to say hi? That's all great! Send an ask, DM, or reply to this post.

We are: American, white, collectively nonbinary and transmasculine, disabled, autistic, OCD, polyamorous, objectum (but not POSIC), kinky, therians General interests: Minecraft & Hermitcraft, Baldur's Gate 3, art, writing, space and astronomy, disability activism, cartoons, sleeping, some bugs, clowns, original characters Ask privately for: fandoms, other interests, any more specific details (trying not to dox us too much here bc this is a sideblog)

What we NEED in a partner system: covid-conscious, anti-zionist, anti-transmedicalism, endo-friendly What we would PREFER in a partner system: having literally anything in common with us in terms of likes/identity What we are interested in: whatever the vibes are (platonic/romantic/sexual/whatever)

Love language: does not speak unless spoken to, but when spoken to, will NOT shut up ever. at first, needs constant reassurance we are not bothering you. our host gets b&w thinking VERY easily so you might need to be persistant in checking on us, however we will do the same for you. would love to get to know you and eventually maybe video call. will send you cool pictures and stuff that reminds us of you.

Trivia:

collectively a gemini

ate our twin in the womb

sleep with dozens of plushies on the bed (all of them are named)

have known about our plurality for over 8 years

currently have about 40-ish members but we are not counting

have had at least one in-system wedding

have had the same special interests for several years now

our regular pizza order is a cheese pizza plus pineapples, onions, and green bell peppers

we cover everything we own in stickers

our christmas tradition consists of making hot cocoa and watching the same movies every year

we are REALLY good at making kandi but we don't normally wear it

red knows how to play a kalimba/thumb piano and a ukulele (but he hates to admit it because he had a cringy soft-boy phase a few years ago)

jam can juggle!

crush makes his own plushies

several of us can code HTML/CSS

caspar and red can often be found watching bluey together when cass is regressed

avid players of Pokemon Go (have caught 2 shinies!)

we each have a favorite pokemon!!! ask what they are

we collect a lot of stuff (pins/buttons, keychains, plushies, mugs, hats, stickers)

ok if you read this far i feel like you are at least obliged to say hi in the notes

[idolbound]

The way that I approach Meredith in either of her redemptive AUs (e.g. Inquisition or Veilguard), is that, after her red lyrium idol sword, Certainty, blows up in her face (and ergo seen as a rejection from the Maker after she called on Him), being exiled serves as an important purpose to helping Meredith realize she was wrong, and understanding that she went too far.

After being exiled out of Kirkwall (think a bloodier, more injured and rushed version of Cersei being walked through King's Landing), for the Inquisition verse, she ventures amidst the outbreak of the mage-templar rebellion, trying to not only heal and recover, but to survive without a direct supply of lyrium. In some ways, she'd have access to supplies here and there for the right amount of coin but as the conflict continues, it becomes harder to get. As the Inquisition forms and moves to Skyhold, and word spreads, she makes the perilous journey there (scarred up, far weaker, and gaunt looking than she once was), and begs the Inquisitor to allow her to join; she is basically a sellsword at this point looking for lyrium supply to stave off the awful effects of withdrawal, but also as a way to try and at least redeem herself and to give herself purpose again. Of course, Culllen and Varric won't be happy she's there, but if accepted, she tends to keep to herself, finding quarters in basically a storage closet, sleeping on bags of feed for the horses and keeps her head down, going where she is demanded to go. She's like a ghost in Skyhold, knowing she failed Kirkwall and failed herself. Over time, with the completion of her personal quest (retrieving personal items from the Gallows/Kirkwall), she finds a new resolve and will survive for about 7-10 years after the Inquisition is over before lyrium dementia will finally set in. (If her personal quest is not completed, she will die serving the Inquisition).

For Veilguard, the tale is spun a little differently. In those 3 years, she still spends time reflecting on herself, but as access to lyrium becomes more difficult, she becomes more desperate and instead, after slowly, horrifically going through withdrawal and looking far worse for wear, she ends up travelling west to enlist with the Wardens as a last resort to save herself from an inevitable end (by, well, choosing another inevitable end). While she has years of experience as a templar, she ends up re-training to serve on the front lines against darkspawn, and eventually, some believe her ability to successfully suppress magic can be useful against certain types of darkspawn, so they secure a supply of lyrium which reinvigorates her strength and capability. But in this time, she is also much of a loner among the Wardens. While they accept nefarious types and criminals, those who know what she did let her know as such, even if it risks having solidarity in the ranks. But in this time, of course, she spends it fighting and giving herself to another cause (all she knows how to do is to serve an institution and something greater). Only after Weisshaupt, can she surface as a possible companion for the Veilguard, should they require her services.

For both verses, though, I think the act of redemption does not necessarily mean that Meredith is suddenly a good person. She's not. But! what it does mean is that she has been removed from the social institution that shaped her personal beliefs and allowed her to oppress mages; it is hard to see the evil when you are inside of it, but once exiled from the Order and Kirkwall more broadly, and spending time alone, she comes to realize that using the idol to gain more power and control was too much, and in a way, it's almost like how mages use blood magic to achieve similar purposes, and that is the very thing she hates the most.

Ultimately, she knows what life she has left to live is an early death sentence; she saw how her adoptive father slowly faded away from lyrium-related dementia, and knows that fate will likely be hers, too. So, Meredith believes that achieving redemption for herself is not to make up for the lives she has hurt and harmed, but to serve and protect others until her dying breath; it is the least she can do because it is all she has ever known.

She still holds prejudice towards mages (and that will always be ingrained in her), but she lacks the power to do anything about their existence now. She cannot let go of her early childhood trauma and general fear of what magic can do, but she has been removed from her station and the means to persecute mages. If the Inquisitor or Rook has mages in their ranks, she accepts it without argument (but she will be avoidant or weary around them, always keeping a watchful eye, just in case).

Also, in this sense, living in exile (despite living under rather unprecedented or... interesting times), is the first time Meredith has ever lived a normal life outside of the Gallows and the Order, and the demands of the Chantry. So this also plays into her redemptive arc by allowing her to experience things she's never gotten to do before, understanding life from a vastly different perspective (even if it is during a time when the world may be ending, and for a very short time compared to her old life).

In the end, redemption for Meredith is not a full 180 degree turn around for her character, but regret weighs heavily upon her; regret for what she did, regret for failing Kirkwall, and regret for never having a life outside of it.

She is haunted by ghosts; she is haunted by herself.