#TAKE THAT PROCRASTINATION (and homework (but mainly procrastination))

[randomsloredrops]

Random's Lore Drops - Grampa Gerson

WAHAHA, I'm BACK bitches, and I brought lore. More specifically...

GRANDPA GERSON HIMSELF, THE FUNNY MAN FROM WATERFALL. I'll just add a read more here so my thing doesn't take up all the space.

. There we go. Time to yap. So, y'all prolly know Gerson, maybe you've never played Undertale before and don't (if so, wild). Gerson is a turtoise Monster, as well as a shopkeeper in Waterfall, near the mid-point save point (a little past Napstablooks house, Mad Dummy fight, etc.). He's got all ya ever need, such as an archaeologist outfit, pointy gray beard, bigass magnifying glass, crooked yellow teeth, and no right eye. According to my sources... I have to use the dialogue, so, shit. Time for me to REALLY yap. Neutral/Pacifist route, he yaps a bit when you wanna talk. He also names Asgore "King Fluffybuns". Aside from that, he tells you a few things, like, the Delta Rune, unrelated to Deltarune, or DELTARUNE, Undyne, and The prophecy. Post-Pacifist dialogue, you go up, and he yaps about the origins of Fluffybuns (the nickname). He also talks about Asgore being a Boss Monster, and that's what makes him stronger, as well as the fact that Boss Monsters only age while having biological children (or children aging only when they have biological parents). He also talks about Toriel's disappearance, and how she was the brains behind everything in the kingdom (really emphasizes how unfit Asgore is to run the throne alone), AND he also says that they were absolutely fuckin INSUFFERABLE. Embarrassing their children by doing lovey-dovey shit, and I gotta agree, I'd be glad it's over too. It'd make ME sick. And about Undyne. He talks about his own past as well as her, where he was known as "The Hammer of Justice" (looks like we know where Spear of Justice came from), and how young Undyne would occassionally try to help fight bad guys... Except, the "bad guys" are actually civilians. Poor fellows. In Genocide, he's got fucking balls of titanium. He still stays in his store, and admits that his knowledge is the only reason he keeps living (he says that when you threaten him, admitting to breaking the world's rules). He outright LIES about him not being a hero ever, unlike in pacifist, and states that "one attack from you and I'd... well...", knowing he can't beat you. A few neat facts (according to my source (the mfin wiki)), it's revealed that Gerson FOUGHT in the Human-Monster war, meaning he's old AF, matching or following up Asgore and Toriel, and if you name yourself Gerson, instead of going "NUH UH" like every other person, he goes "Wah ha ha! Why not?" and lets you become Gerson 2.0.

[tiredcatboysinc]

Drive to no where

Haaai :3c I've been on sort of a writing kick (mostly to procrastinate on my homework), so here's a fanfic rewrite for my shitty old Sniper(TF2)/Reader!

-------

Summary: "Couldn't sleep?" The sniper asked with a soft, reassuring smile. A huff leaves your nose as you look away, your brows furrowed aggravatedly. "I think god hates me..." You grumble, your mouth forming into a grimace.

Words: 888

AO3

Warnings: Light angst, Reader has depression and also smokes

You stare up at the ceiling of your room, your eyes hazy and burning from a lack of sleeping. A groan of impatience leaves you as you roll over onto your side, slamming a pillow over your face. It had been 2... No, 3 days since you had really gotten any good sleep. Maybe you'd had 4 hours combined? Either way, a lack of sleep wasn't helping your current mental situation. By which of course you mean you're utterly and hopelessly depressed. Clothes scattered your room, dirty cups and plates almost on every surface your can see, the whole room covered with a layer of scent that was disgusting, you were disgusting and you knew it. Some of your team members, mainly Pyro and Engineer, had offered to help you clean, but you couldn't take that offer. You knew your room would be back to this state in a matter of days, so there was no point in your mind.

Your teammates were worried to say the least, they wanted to help! They really did! But in full truth they didn't know how... The only one that seemed to understand you right now was Sniper. Sniper had dealt this thing before, unbeknownst to you of course, so he understood it was hard.

Another groan leaves your mouth and you throw yourself off your bed, leaning over your knees for a moment in contemplation. Fuck it, if you couldn't sleep than a smoke wouldn't hurt. Standing up from your bed you wobble slightly, this being the first time you had stood in hours. You grab some random, probably dirty, jacket from your floor before pulling your shoes on. A pause is given at your door while you dig through your jack pocket, yup, this one had your cigarettes in it. With that you exit your room and make your way down the halls, an exhausted look plastered over your face.

So many thoughts we're in your head, why did you have to go through this? What had you done to piss god off so much he threw this at you? Maybe god hated you, or maybe this was your own fault In some creual twist of fate. A grumble of curses is thrown out under your breath as you begin to open the bases door, only to be stopped by Sniper standing in front of the other side. You flinch back, your eyes widened in shock. "Couldn't sleep?" The sniper asked with a soft, reassuring smile. A huff leaves your nose as you look away, your brows furrowed aggravatedly. "I think god hates me..." You grumble, your mouth forming into a grimace. Sniper sighs, and steps out of the way so you can come outside. "Come on, roo. We're gonna go for a drive." You give Sniper a half surprised and half curious look at this, but don't argue and follow his lead.

Sniper leads you over to his caravan, opening the door for you which elicits a small chuckle from you. He always once to be a gentleman, even if he didn't look like it. As you buckle yourself in the passenger seat Sniper climbs into the driver's side, cranking the caravan and holding onto the wheel for a moment. "Sooo... Where you taking me, Snipes?" You questioned as your head pressed back into the leather of his seats. He hummed softly at this question, pulling away from the base and starting your drive.

"Dunno, just thought it'd be good to get you outta ya room." He smiled softly over at you, and you scoff at this statement. "I haven't been in my room for that long... Have I?" The days had sort of been blending together as of recent, and honestly you don't remember the last time you left your room if it wasn't for a battle. Snipers nods, his gaze on the road. "Yeah, it has been. I think the last time ya' left was about 4 days ago, love." He answered In a warm tone, no judgement or scorn in his voice. Maybe Sniper understood to an extent, you thought as you looked over at him with tired eyes.

A low, dissatisfied hum leaves your closed lips. You glance out your window and watch as everything moves past you, it made you feel better. At least it made you feel a tiny bit better, but a tiny bit of good is better than none at all you thought. "I didn't know it had been that long." You admit as you watch the landscape move past your eyes, trying to focus on one thing and failing as it moved by quickly.

Sniper nods, seeming to know what you were saying without saying it. "I know how ya feel, love. Depression is hard, it eats you alive, but I want ya' to know we're all here for you. No matter what, roo, I'm here for ya' at the least." His voice was filled with sincerity, his voice and words floating over you like a blanket of reassurance. Those words made you feel nice, they made you feel like everything would be alright. A soft hum leaves your lips, your eyes closing as your head leans into the headrest.

Sniper glances over and smiles, a gentle chuckle leaving his mouth. "Sleep well, roo, I love ya'."

[stoneyweezin]

𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 - 𝐈

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤: ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ɪᴛꜱ ᴛᴏʟʟ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ʙʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱɪᴅᴇ.

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘮𝘢𝘫𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 "𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴". 𝘝𝘪𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥.

hawkins. it is boring. nothing more, nothing less.

The average civilian in the small town would consider it comforting, while others would wrack their brains trying to understand how people could live here, of all places.

not recognizing the fact that it was nothing but pure agriculture. farms- up and down, little dirt roads, and every person in the town had a place in it.

they played a part.

except you.

you didn't have a part.

essentially, you felt like a grain of sand being blown through the wind, landing on something for just minutes as the wind picked you back up and blew you to the next series.

and there you sat.

back of the class, your clothes muted and dark, you could almost fade into the walls due to the teacher having the lights shut off and the mini projector flashing its image across the white fabric.

you had been living in hawkins for the past five years. being so used to the fact your mother would move you from timbuktu.

you were born in north carolina and then moved to new jersey. went to your first school formal in pennsylvania. was able to foster a pet in ohio. and now you reside in hawkins.

having got there your third-grade year, all while slowly familiarizing yourself with the inkling of being fresh meat.

but from the moment you moved to hawkins was the exact moment nobody noticed you anymore.

you thought you would be a new face, which you were for the first year but then people recognized you from your mother working a hospital job, your faces almost being spitting images.

since then you were "eileen’s kid" your own name fading from everyone's tongue.

since then you’d melted into this new familiarity of the unknown and remained as such.

but regarding that, hazel eyes bore into the lesson, a face of disinterest.

every time before class would begin you would ask mr. clarke for the assignment of the day. along with homework to be able to finish it all before class ends.

and he, as a teacher, could not be quite upset at the fact that you prioritized your education and not a life outside of it like the other kids in his class had.

but for you, it was mainly because there was a goal you wanted to meet as soon as possible for you to not procrastinate about it. and so you could also daydream and come up with the most elaborate things in that mind to occupy the clock as it ticked its way through everyone's day.

your mind had been elsewhere even with a face as stoic as can be.

in this random world you had conjured, you were - a vampire. so cool and alluring.

men falling at your wake and begging to understand the person who would smell like plums and baked goods.

that skin ice to the touch but heart had pumped like it was alive and vibrant.

blood called for you but you covered up this entire ordeal by wor-

BRRRRRRINNNNGGGGGGGG

the rupture of the bell knocked you clean from this fascinating world, a sigh following from your lips but the others murmured in thanks.

"alright, my good friends! test is on friday. today is tuesday. announcing you need more time means you didn't care for it anyway!" his mustached smile filled the room as the moody middle schoolers walked out the classroom door. you purposefully hold back before grabbing your bag and following.

"hey." Mr. Clarke looked at you, his toothy grin going lipped as he organized the items on his desk.

"if you want, after school thursday i will be here and you can take the test early."

"i appreciate that mr. clarke." you smiled at him before making your way outside. watching kids pile on the bus and some even being picked up by their parents.

but instead of getting on your bus you had left a note in your mothers lunch box informing her of your weekly trip to the lake for your writing.

your backpack bounced on your back as your feet trudged down the side walk toward the area where your bike rested. legs tossing themselves over it and pushing off toward your destination.

you were only a kid but it seemed as though you lived life like you'd already run out of it and now it is stagnant. time is so still for you.

the slight hum of the chain from the bike was all you heard, pebbly asphalt rolling beneath the rubber wheels and eventually slowing in motion as you’d come across your designated spot.

now the lake was where you'd write… you'd write a billion books if you could. some pieces were you writing about your day because you had no one else to talk to.

your mom was nice but she started to recognize that her kid wasn't going to be the life of the party so at times never worried about you. never really asking what happened at school or if you liked any boys. you didn't take it personally though. your mind didn't allow you to because of how lame it was.

so with tires coming to a soft stop, kicking down the kick stand and treading over to the imprinted spot your bottom had made near the lake, a rock that kind of shaped into a flattened pear. it being elevated just enough it was support for your back and the birds playing in the naked trees above your head.

the time seemed to slow itself even more as soon as your fingers clutched the pencil and words were being made with the movement of your palm. the scratching of the pencil being drowned by the birds and the wind pushing the lake in your front.

also drowning out the gentle footsteps that crept up beside you. so caught in your own world and not thinking anyone else knew about this little hiding spot, you never worried about anything happening to you here.

the hairs on the back of your neck stood. stomach clenching and your palm seizing movement as for some reason the thought pushed itself through your mind.

someone couldn't be here. why would they?

as you asked that question you had turned your head swiftly, hoping that the sense you felt was just some random wave of anxiety.

your eyes connected to nothing more than the woods. your bike gently peeking through the bare trees. you sighed softly before turning back around and your heart caved in itself.

your breath hitched just as your eyes bore so big they would've popped out of your skull.

"forgive me for this, young lady." the man in a black suit said just as he lunged toward you.

everything had moved so fast you couldn't even defend yourself as you felt the soft pinch of a needle burrow through your flesh and push foreign contents into your bloodstream. a gasp coming from you before you tried to push away.

it was like the world had turned into a tv show that had a godawful satellite. your breathing sounded like an echo in your head; the very feeling of your lungs expanding and contracting was something that didn't feel real. and your limbs didn't feel like they were attached to your body anymore.

"w-what did you.." you questioned with so much uncertainty in your voice, that you stumbled backward. your legs being paused by the rock before you regained your footing with the last bit of fight you had left.

your feet dragged you in skipped motions toward the road, the air felt like something that was being shoved into your nose and mouth but you couldn't quite apprehend it.

just as your knees buckled, your hands flying out to brace yourself before those too felt numb and the world seemed to be shutting you off.

as about a full minute had passed of a struggle to stay awake, slow and on the ground, your chest rose and fell slowly. body still and covered in dirt and leaves.

the man before you had sighed as his eyebrows creased. normally the sedative would've worked faster than that but it seemed to his luck that you'd had a bit more fight in you than the techs had assumed.

they had been keeping tabs on all hawkins residents. all hospital records and funny business that could be chatted about over the landlines. now they often tuned into the conspiracy theorists and their conversations about the gated grey building that no one could ever get into and barely anybody would know who'd been working there.

often those theorists always resulted in "the russians invaded hawkins" which contrary to their beliefs, hawkins lab tried their absolute hardest to guarantee that not happening.

they stalked the hawkins residents, keeping tabs on the children also as they had started mkultra and needed even more to make sure their country was protected from the unknown workings of the soviet union.

every child they got hands-on had some kind of ability. their predominant prodigy was a young girl numbered eleven. she was their new weapon to use against the russians all while she was the only survivor after the massacre that occurred only a year prior.

but that didn't matter to these individuals as they needed just her or more kids of this pedigree back into their facility.

so what reason were they now abducting you and better yet not giving some other kid in hawkins all their attention?

they had a sense you were just like the children they'd been searching for.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

it had been approximately two months since your sudden disappearance.

the first person to notice obviously was your mother. you’d been gone when she'd gotten home that first night.

after the night has rolled around, she'd gone to the hawkins p.d who had been no help. hopper saying that kids play hooky all the time but she made it clear to them that, they were wrong and that you were not that kind of kid.

the next person to notice was mr. clarke. the thursday meeting he'd hoped to see you in, you were a no-show.

then the class neared on friday and you were still not there, feeling funny that you never missed a test.

he had also made sure to give a call to your mother who had installed that you'd been missing and not a clue where you could be.

eventually, he pushed the news to his coworkers, who had also gone into a slight shock. one of their students had been gone… randomly at that.

after the first week, your face was plastered on the side of milk cartons.

pictures of you and your bike plastered all over the town just in hopes somebody would recognize.

but just as your mother would put them up during the day, before she'd go to work at the hospital, they were being snatched down by undercover agents all around the town.

your disappearance was not to be looked into and they made sure of that.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

m⃨a⃨r⃨c⃨h⃨ 1⃨9⃨8⃨1⃨

five months of brain games and forced amnesia was what you endured.

body strapped to a table where the first session of electroshock therapy had immediately displayed your powers.

anything that had been in contact with your skin immediately aged 4 times its longevity. the straps holding your body disintegrated and the gloves from the doctors started to strip. along with their palms that wrinkled before their eyes.

your screams ripped through the walls of the room as eventually the electroshock machine immediately rusted.

shock and confusion riddled all over their faces as they watched you writhe and holler with all your might. nothing else could quite replace the feeling you endured right then.

beads of sweat trickled down your forehead as you eventually threw yourself from the disintegrated bands, and your feet immediately pushed themselves toward the door. trying to ensure your own freedom as your fingers reached for the handle. body being fueled by pure adrenaline before you were snatched up again by the exceptional amount of techs in the room.

"let me go!" you kicked and shook your body as they tried to apprehend you.

"get off me!" you screamed more and a lot louder than before. tears still blurring your vision as you squeeze your eyes to rid them. wanting to take in the faces of your defiers until you felt that all too familiar pinch.

this feeling of being sedated was something you were slowly growing used to, and all the way up to now.

you sighed as your eyes traced the indentations on the ceiling. taking up your days by counting the lines that separated themselves from the other large blocks.

five months of defiance from your end, the blood in your body feeling renewed after every time they'd force you to use your powers.

the older man who your fellow captor referred to as "papa" would often try to get you to comply. continuously bringing up the feeble reassurance about "the greater good for our country."

you'd roll your eyes and better yet murmur a quick "i hate this country." immediately having a strong detest for the doctors who made it clear they worked for the shady big g.

but your protests and fights were consistently disregarded with brenner reminding you "you’re a kid, you'd not fully understand the things that are at stake."

but you'd eventually seize your arguments knowing it was going nowhere and your attempts to put up a fight consistently brought you back to the same place.

-

the locks on the door shifted before there stood brenner. his stupid smile, broad and cheap while his faux kindness made a forefront.

"how're we today ms. Y/L/N?" he asked as he looked over your gaunt state. he and the doctors tried to keep you fed and to your greatest potential but you refused knowing that you'd much rather die in this unethical building than give anyone what they wanted.

"i’m okay, brenner." you lifted yourself onto your elbows to look at him. eyes low and displeased with his company now taking up your solitude.

"that's great to hear. are you ready for another session?" was all he asked before your eyes scanned over your physique. your legs had lost a bit of their saturation due to your emotional and physical state. the hospital gown barely being in contrast as everything felt like a black and white movie and held no enjoyment.

you stood to your feet, the laminated ground cold and flat, eyes training from the ground to the terrible people in your front. your body dragged you toward them, wiliingly, but they still confined you to the space of shackled ankles.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

n⃨o⃨v⃨e⃨m⃨b⃨e⃨r⃨ 6⃨t⃨h⃨,⃨ 1⃨9⃨8⃨3⃨

you lay with your back facing the large door. your peace being prioritized over the misery you'd been facing for the past three years.

a hummed song moved itself through your throat as you picked at the thread of the distressed pillow. your eyes closed, replaying memories you held onto to keep sane.

the song you mumbled soon enough comes to a halt. the lights above your head flickering at a rapid pace. as if the building has suddenly lost its power.

at first your thought conjured to eleven overworking her powers. powersources sometimes being at her leisure. but the buzz that emitted from the sheltered bulbs in the room, had eventually blared red and a mind boggling noise filled the halls and even your room.

a ear piercing scream was heard through the halls. a scream unlike those of pain but more so a beckoning of others of its kind.

immediately panic rewired your brain. your body shooting from the bed and backing into the furthest corner of the room.

a tense heart and a overworked brain was what you harbored close to you before the door blasted open. eleven standing forefront and center with her nose bleeding and her tiny frame holding her shaky pulse.

“go.” was all she said before beckoning you with her hand and running down the hall. following her, you two having bare feet slap along the floor before eleven stopped in front of the tank room.

you immediately take notice of her body instinctively sheltering itself but chose to disregard as did she. blasting open a drain pipe and the two of you crawled out.

after a solid 15 minutes of crawling, the sounds of screams being heard through the building you continued to push behind her before the grace of light kissed the top of a grate.

joy had overcome you. a laugh of relief came from your chest before tears brimmed themselves in your ducts. not even noticing that your hands pushed eleven behind you to get past and grabbing ahold of the bars. aging it before your eyes, the halfway rusted iron eventually crumbing into your palms.

you pushed your body through the hole, back forcing the stray pieces to fall around you.

turning to grab eleven also and the two of you now stood in the woods with dirtied hospital gowns and sweat ridden faces.

you looked down at the smaller girl, who’d you taken notice of being a lot younger than you the moment you crossed her path. hand reaching down before the two of you walked deeper into the woods. furthering yourself from the drain pipe and better yet coming closer to home.

⋆·˚ ༘ *༉‧₊˚.ੈ✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ *༉‧₊˚.ੈ✩‧₊˚ ⋆·˚ ༘ *༉‧₊˚.ੈ✩‧₊˚

N⃨E⃨X⃨T⃨

.

[msmattea]

i’m at work on my breakand i can’t help but spiral about the complexities of moving this fall. life is so sacred, delicate and fragile. one great thing is that there are many beginnings, and the power of going back is just moving forward trying to not make the same mistakes again; holding back on fear's accord. is this opportunity to move a sign from god? a hint to take the jump? every time i close my eyes and envision myself moving i get almost clouded with my own anxieties, like a big sister trying to get her photo taken but the thumb of whoever is taking the photo (let it be god?) keeps getting in the way. i don’t want fear to be a reason to hold back, but more so of a reason to jump.

i texted my dad i loved him on my 15. all he said back was “hurry home.” it makes me want to go fuck myself. when i am met with thr dismissal of my compulsive burps of “i love you” i can’t help but turn back into that 5-year-old girl, doing everything in her gaze to get daddy’s validation. love from my father has always felt like work. that’s a fact, with no judgment attached. my father is more than 4 times my age, meeting us at the rip age of 60. his generation was taught the importance of being seen, rather than being heard. i understand him, and i love him unconditionally. something i was born with; this inherit need to not only be loved but constantly love him. i texted back, "i'm at work till 4:30, i already told you." hoping that the period properly showed my passiveness. his reply was "i know it's just that every minute you're away from me burns a hole in my heart." i giggled as i read this on my rush to my car through the store.

im currently home from work, i got home about three hours ago. i haven't done any homework yet, and i am still here procrastinating on getting two major assignments done for class. i am also on the toilet, contiplaiting if i should order ramen. if i should break my 24 hour fast for some celebratory and motivating veggie noodles floating in a flavorful lake of broth. ramen that i am trying to convince myself, is brain food. the only thing; the laxatives have been causing me to shit constantly all day. i wonder if i should give my stomach a break? or fuel it with good foods; steamed broccoli, vegatable broth, and tofu for protein. mmmmmmm. ahhh sounds yummy. my go to comfort meal; instantly bringing me back to the emotional release of being in 71st Street Ramen, in a corner booth with Emerson and Basil. okay then, its official i am going to order the ramen.

that makes me think of another thing, especally in my desire to regain control (by releasing control LOL funny how that works. that the balance is finding peace in the things that you can control, and submitting to what you can't) of my life; i need to regain control of my eating habits. i don't know what happened. it saddens me that i have allowed myself to let this go on for as long as it has. maybe its just being home. maybe its the depression of watching my mother slowly die. maybe its the Florida street weed intensifying my cravings to the ripest extent. maybe its the addicition to guilt or the need to shame and give myself reasons to be a bitch to myself. maybe its because i can't cope without food, mainly triggered by a 2 day fast followed by getting increasingly high with Florida street weed and cleaning the pantry from every cookie in the jar. following that, i will swallow pills - not only to help the bloat but to help pass what i just swallowed down. i think i've become addicted. not i think, i know.

one thing that has released and pushed my habit to the healtheir level, is binge eating with fruits, steamed brocalli, eggs and hit sauce, high protein bars, oatmeal, dried fruits, nuts, and usually waffles drentched in butter and warm honey (my fucking favorite high snack, fucking fuck, i can't describe how good it is other than a dance of sweet and savory - but natural, almost timeless in my devorar. its also just waffles with butter, and honey, but let me dress it up.) binging with heathlier food ; food of actual sustinance. food that gives you nutrients. foods that benfit me and my body. carrots for my eyes, chia seeds and oatmeal for fiber, etc.. food that makes you just wanna play that video from the early 2010s of that redhead kid who was on The Ellen Show, the enbodiement of that redhead kid going,theres nothing like a nice slice of pizza to recharge your batteries, but instead of pizza its this warm honey waffle, and nuts, with dried tart cherries, and brownie protein bars. the guilt is somehow ridden. i feel slightly more responsible as a parent to myself. im the mom who feeds her daughter only the best, organic bullshit. now this means im ready for the next step; no binging period. and remianing in a deficit! eating a healthy amount, at healthy times, with healthy outcomes (if you get my drift) no need for laxatives. full trust in me, and my body. in my bodies ability to regulate, and be beautiful in her performance. she's ready. im ready.

time to talk about the start of my day:

when i woke up this morning i took a bowl of weed, and dozed off half dreaming about a different time with Khalil - this time 2 years into the future; living together. again with the could'ves. i don't think its shameful to wonder if he still thinks about me, corny maybe, but not shameful. at least im not allowing myself to be ashamed of what i feel. i could just be craving a connection, a snese of unrelenting intimacy. he would be a really good distraction right now.

ill finish this entry with telling you about work and the present moment (besides the ordering of my veggie tofu ramen, the memory of my two soulmates.) other than daydreaming about Khalil, I got dressed, took my meds (b12,collagen,glutamine,spiralactone,dustersiteride-or however you fucking spell it-zinc,vitaminC,womensmultivitamine,cherryroot,tumeric,milkthistle,beefliver,and a probiotic), had a cup of black coffee accompanied by a jounral session with god and my mom, showering myself with affirmations, trying to convicne myself that i can somehow make something out of the day. i went to work.

work was work. work was busy. work is always busy on a saturday. i was bloated the whole shift, from my binge the night prior or maybe the irritation of the laxatives, and my feet kept blistering from the fresh pair of mary jane flats i impuslivly purchased and wore today. i thought that they looked cute with my baggy jeans. beauty is pain, pretend im eye rolling. no actually don't pretend, know for a fact that i am eye rolling. i don't think beauty is motherfucking pain, mainly because i feel my most beautful self when i am the most unresticted, unbound by the idea of what my beauty should be measured by; pain. beauty is feeling unbound in a flowing linen dress. beauty is the dance of my hair, the daily movement she offers around me. let me not get distracted. okay work. well work was work, like i said. i did my usual; shelved books, answered phones, looked for cute coustmers to help, and of course took my breaks. i never forget a break, especially if they pay us for it. thank you, thank you, thank you. i then got a large three shot americano from the cafe, in hopes to pass whatever is left in my bowels for my ride home. i drank half and might save the rest for tomorrow morning. something tells me that i will be up very late maybe even into the morning trying to get my homeowork done. ill start after the ramen which should be here any minute. currently, however, im debating whether or not the ramen im about to fuel on is going to help aid or hinder that process. regardless, im optimistic that the nutirion and protien will help bring back the life in my face. i trust my bodies ability to metabolise fast, and regulate itself. i release the worry of food hurting me!!!! im gooing to go eat.

xx

mattea

[idigitizellp21]

From Homework To Home Run: Balancing Academics And Athletics

Balancing academics and athletics can be a challenging yet rewarding endeavour for students. Striking the right balance between hitting the books and excelling on the field is not just about time management; it’s about dedication, perseverance, and finding harmony between two demanding worlds.

This blog explores strategies to balance study and play for children in school

The Dual Commitment

Student-athletes face a unique set of challenges. They must commit to rigorous training and competitions while maintaining high academic standards. This dual commitment can be overwhelming, but with the right approach, it can succeed in both areas.

Effective Time Management: Time management is key for balancing academics and athletics. Here are some guides to effective time management and strategies to manage their time.

1. Create a Schedule: Plan your day, week, and month. Include practice sessions, study time, classes, and rest periods. Having a clear schedule helps you stay organized and ensures you allocate sufficient time for each activity.

2. Prioritise Tasks: Determine which tasks are most important, you must attend to them first. Prioritising enables you to focus on what needs to be done and reduces the risk of falling behind in either academics or sports.

3. Use Breaks Wisely: Use breaks between classes or training sessions to review notes, complete assignments, or study for exams. These small pockets of time can add up and make a significant difference.

Be Disciplined: Discipline is essential for success in both academics and athletics. Here are some tips to cultivate discipline:

1. Set Clear Goals: Define what you want to achieve in your academic and athletic pursuits. Setting specific, measurable, achievable, and time-bound (SMART) goals that give direction and motivation.

2. Stay Committed: Commitment is key. Remind yourself of your goals regularly and stay dedicated to your schedule. Even when things get tough, maintaining your commitment will help you push through challenges.

3. Avoid Procrastination: Procrastination can be a major obstacle. Break tasks into smaller, manageable moves and tackle them one at a time. This approach makes tasks seem less daunting and helps you stay on track.

Seek External Support: Balancing academics and athletics is not a solo journey. Seek support from those around you to help you succeed.

1. Communicate with Teachers and Coaches: Keep your teachers and coaches informed about your schedule and commitments. They can offer valuable support, such as adjusting deadlines or providing additional resources.

2. Lean on Family and Friends: Your family and friends can be a great source of encouragement and assistance. Don’t hesitate to ask for help when needed, whether with studying or getting to practice on time.

3. Utilize School Resources: Many schools offer resources specifically for student-athletes, such as tutoring services, academic advisors, and time management workshops. Take advantage of these resources to enhance your performance in both areas.

7 Additional Tips To Help You Balance study & Play:

A balanced lifestyle is crucial for success. Here are some tips to maintain your health and well-being:

1. Get Enough Sleep: Adequate sleep is vital for academic and athletic performance. Aim for 7–9 hours of sleep each night to make sure your body and mind are well rested.

2. Eat Nutritious Meals: Proper nutrition fuels your body and mind. Eat a balanced diet that contains plenty of fruits, vegetables, lean proteins, and whole grains.

3. Stay Hydrated: Dehydration can negatively impact both academic and athletic performance. Drink enough water throughout the day, mainly before and after training sessions.

4. Manage Stress: Balancing academics and athletics can be stressful. Make a habit of practising stress management techniques such as deep breathing, meditation, or yoga to stay calm and focused.

5. Be Flexible: Life is unpredictable, and sometimes things won’t go as planned. Be workable and willing to adjust your schedule as needed.

6. Celebrate Small Wins: Accept and celebrate your achievements, no matter how small. Celebrating small victories helps you stay motivated and reminds you of the progress you have made.

7. Reflect and Adjust: Regularly reflect on your performance in both academics and athletics. Analyze areas for improvement and adjust your strategies accordingly.

Crossing the Finish Line as a Winner

Balancing academics and athletics is challenging but achievable with the right approach. Success hinges on effective time management, discipline, support from others, and maintaining overall health and well-being. By implementing these strategies, student-athletes can excel in the classroom and on the field. Shri Harshad Valia International School, the best international school in Mumbai, encourages and supports students in achieving their academic and athletic goals, ensuring they perform well in sports while staying focused on their studies.

Remember, the journey may be tough, but the rewards are worth the effort.

[progressivemother]

Back to School Hacks for Busy Mothers

We all know that back to school can be stressful on everyone; the kids and the parents. Everyone is overwhelmed. Getting back into a routine, buying school supplies, school clothes and packing lunches are all difficult to deal with. The good thing is that you get a break from kids for a bit.

Here are few hacks and a list:

1. Work on summer reading and summer projects: This is the first thing that should be tackled sooner rather than later in the summer. Do not procrastinate. Projects need to always be done as early as possible. With the summer reading, I have my children read every day for at least ten minutes every evening. They also keep up on their math and their cursive. There are free apps for all of this.

2. Get the home and yourself organized: Organizing yourself and you home before the school season starts is very important to mothers. A few things you can do is have an area for packing school lunches, have an area in your pantry for easy access snacks and breakfast foods, and designate a homework area.

3. Clean out and organize kids clothes: This is the perfect opportunity to weed out clothes that no longer fit, donate items that are still in good condition, and make way for new school clothes.

4. Buying new clothes: You don't always need new clothes. I often buy my children clothes that are a size bigger and can last a little while. All through the year, as the clothes get too small, they get replaced. My children take good care of the clothing and we usually have clothes that last. We don't always have to go on a full day of shopping to get new clothes. If we do have to buy clothes, we mainly buy online and go to thrift stores. You can get great clothes at thrift stores and you can get clothes for a great price online if you know how to look.

5. School supply shopping: We mainly do school shopping online or at cheap places like Family Dollar and Walmart to save money and time. Children don't usually need much and the textbooks are provided by the schools. Make sure to label all items belonging to your child with their name. This one is easy to handle.

6. Doctors appointments: We get any appointments needed done the month or two before school. My children had their physicals, dentists appointments, and eye exams all done in the last two months. Making sure they are up to date on vaccinations, checking for any underlying health issues, and addressing any concerns early can help prevent serious illnesses down the road.

7. Get haircuts: While it may seem like a minor detail, a fresh haircut can give your child a confidence boost for their first day back. Plus, it’s one less thing to worry about once the school year is in full swing.

8. Register for all activities or sports the kids want: We registered my daughter for gymnastics and working on getting my son registered for Tai Kwon Do. They love activities where they can make friends and enjoy themselves doing something they love. Not only will participating in these activities keep your kids active and engaged, but they’ll also make new friends and develop valuable skills.

9. Add school events to your calendar: As a mom gearing up for the new school year, it’s essential to stay on top of all the events and deadlines that the school year brings. Adding school events to your calendar is a great way to ensure that you don’t miss an important meeting or a fun school event. We cannot be scrambling to get ready for something we forgot or didn't know about. We have the calendar on my phone that I keep it on, the calendar on the fridge, and the reminders on the kids' watches to keep up on everything.

10. Review the teacher’s name and transportation information with the kids: It’s your kid’s first day of school and you want to make sure everything goes smoothly. One important thing to do before you send your little one off to their new classroom is to review the teacher’s name and transportation information with them. We go over the teacher’s name and the room number. My children walk to school so there isn't an need to go over what to do for transportation whether it be the bus or one of our vehicles.

11. Routine: What I suggest for the routine, is keeping the same routine or similar throigh the summer. We keep the same bedtime and same wakeup time, the same morning routine (minus walking to school), and the same evening routine (minus homework). The only difference is they get to stay up and do things as long as it was in their rooms. This way they still get the hours they need. Their father and I wake up around 4am everyone for work and this keeps everyone happy.

12. Breakfast: It is difficult to get children to eat early in the morning. What I do is have quick and easy breakfasts that we can quickly pop in the microwave or toaster or just add milk to. Oatmeal, cereal, muffins, frozen waffles, bagels, cereal bars and granola bars.

13. Outfits: Outfits are simple. Most of us know that you should set out clothing and jewelry the night before to make the morning easier. Another hack I've learned is the hanging fabric shelves or a drawer storage week with the days of the week on it. It doesnt work for me because my daughter will be changing her mind and switching the clothing out anyway each night.

14. School supplies: Put all school supplies for each child in one place. Command hooks work great for this. Backpacks are put on a hook in their closets with all the supplies the need in the backpack. Right now, they don't need much due to how young they are. When they are older, most things will be in their lockers and only items necessary for homework will be brought home.

15. Pack school lunch and backpack the night before: I know there are those who pay for school lunch but for me, it's a waste of money. I prepare the kids' lunches the night before and put them in the lunch box. To save money, they either have leftovers or sandwiches. I make sure they have a fruit and a vegetable. Canned fruits and vegetables last a while and you can put them in a container in the fridge and take what is needed out for the lunch. It can last a couple of days. For things like cut up apples, you can wrap it in plastic to preserve it so it lasts until lunch. I have containers for things like ranch as well. Vegetables and fruit are more fun for kids to eat if they have something to dip it in. The backpacks need to be packed and ready for the next day as well. All homework put inside along with anything else needed for that day.

16. After school routine: It’s so important to have a good routine for kids after school. It helps them manage expectations, get their homework done and still have time to be kids and play. We start with home right away after school. A The kids are usually done by 4pm, leaving an hour to play. After that is any chores that need to be done before dinner at 5:30-6:00pm.

Dealing with the start of school can be a daunting task. Remember to enjoy it. Get up, eat a healthy breakfast, take first day of school pictures, and start the day. Once your child is dropped off, you don't need to worry about them for hours. Enjoy your time and remember that they are enjoying theirs.

[button-drop]

Been practicing some anatomy recently, and also procrastinating my homework lol

CONTENT WARNING: ARTISTIC NUDITY, NO BITS BUT ALSO DEFINITELY NO CLOTHES

Wanted to practice with different body types some more, so I figured I’d take a small step out of my comfort zone. I still mainly like drawing female figures because it’s what I’m more familiar with, but I’m doing my best. Any and all criticism is welcomed!!

[sgchemistry]

6 Signs You Need A-level Chemistry Tuition

A-level chemistry tuition is considered a step above O-level; hence, students are expected to have a comprehensive understanding of chemistry. Unlike O-level chemistry tuition classes, in A-level classes, teachers need to help the students to grow a genuine interest in the subject. So, the curriculum and the courses are designed to include various activities to teach students through their experiences.

The A-level courses in chemistry mainly aim to teach you to establish the connection between microscopic, submicroscopic and symbolic levels. Learning these representations will further allow you to construct fundamental knowledge about chemical structures, equations and properties. A thorough sec chemistry tutor can help you to develop an in-depth understanding of these factors so that you can achieve better grades in school.

Deciding to hire a tutor is a major decision and you need to understand whether you actually require a tutor. The following points will definitely help you decide if you need a tutor or just minor adjustments in your learning styles.

6 Signs You Need A Chemistry Tutor

Homework is taking longer - Spending an hour or two on homework is natural, and the complexity of the learning materials increases with each grade. However, if you have started to spend more and more time on your homework it can be a sign that you need additional help. At the beginning of the school year, you used to take two hours to complete your homework, but now you’re taking four. Then you need to start thinking about taking additional help and guidance.

Difficult to stay motivated - Since you’re unable to finish your homework even with all the extra time you’re spending on it, losing your motivation is natural. Losing your motivation will further push you to slack off and procrastinate. This is one of the warning signs before poor results. If you notice that you have no motivation to even start studying chemistry, it's time to hire an IP chemistry tutor.

Grades are declining consistently - Poor results once or twice and getting a bad grade in an exam or two are natural. But if your grades are declining consistently, and you’re unable to improve even after working hard and trying harder. This a sign that you need to identify the problem areas in your comprehension; maybe there’s a particular topic that you cannot understand. Or maybe you’re unable to solve certain types of problems.

Poor time management - Slacking off and procrastination are the roots of problematic time management. Poor motivation originating from losing interest in a subject leads to poor time management. Since you do not start working on your assignments and homework in time, you start rushing at the last moment. This not only further diminishes your abilities, but also creates a larger negative impact on your grades.

Inefficient organisation - If you’re facing continuous challenges in organising your schoolwork, pending assignments and so on, maybe the support you require is more fundamental. So, you need to understand whether your organisation has become so inefficient that it is affecting your academic routine and performance. A JC chemistry tutor can not only help you to understand the subject well but also guide you through organisation and time management processes.

All work and no reward - Often time, rather than slacking off students start spending more time on the problems they are unable to solve. They start to obsess over the chapters they are yet to complete and revise. This obsession and continuous focus on one problem create a bird-eye-view which blocks every other perspective on the same. So, regardless of the time spent on a topic and the hard work, the net result stays quite low.

If you believe you have started to encounter these signs for some time now, it is time for you to book classes at A-level chemistry tuition, at the earliest!

Blog Source: https://chemistrysg.weebly.com/blog/6-signs-you-need-a-level-chemistry-tuition

[tentacle-stylograph]

(picture from here but by Holly Main)

okay, therapy homework. over the next 13 days (12 now), try to have at least ten days where i do at least one "self-love" thing and record what it is

shark picture 'cause i'm hoping i'll find a roll of stickers to mark the days i succeed, and those stickers have some sharks with party hats

__

T 1 Nov: successfully told myself to stop talking to myself so badly

W 2 Nov: was doing a character voice in my car and eventually said affirmations to myself as that character, as if he were talking to me

H 3 Nov: worked on fanart pic!! only did about 20 or 25 mins when i wanted to do 35, but i distracted myself hugely beforehand and also forgot / failed to put on any "am i doing what i want" timers

F 4 Nov: didn't take physical notes during speaker event tonight!! really, really pushed myself longer than i should have in my illustration class, so i needed the break.

second part to above: didn't take great memory palace "notes," but i'm not beating myself up about it. i told myself before the event, "hey, it's okay to not take notes on everything. sometimes it's okay to just LIVE what's happening. even if you remember very little from tonight, that's still okay."

A 5 Nov: talked to my brother about difficulties i've had communicating with him (but thanks to a friend who i asked for advice, and of course part of her advice was "if there's a real problem it's important to discuss what it is and how it can get better."

S 6 Nov: call with friend to help me with homework + DID SOME OF THE SCARY ZBRUSH STUFF + went out to the nearby Pokestop a few times when it was orange (Gimmighoul event thing?)

M 7 Nov: MORNING EXERCISES. I DID MY MORNING EXERCISES ON MY OWN YEEEEAAAAAAAHHHH

T 8 Nov: GOING TO VOTE even though i didn't have every section checked out; i just didn't vote on everything

W 9 Nov: cleared my computer desktop. I'D BEEN WANTING TO FOR LITERALLY MONTHS -- THERE WERE SCREENSHOTS FROM AT LEAST SEPTEMBER AND THERE WERE OVER 100 ICONS -- so this was nice. took a while, but nice

H 10 Nov: fINALLY read some more of a digital One Piece zine i have! :D a good time. i took a bit to choose between my fanart project and the zine, but i settled on the zine 'cause (1) it'd be faster to get off my desktop and i like the organization and (2) i got a copy of the zine for a friend and it's nice to be able to talk about it together, if that's of interest

F 11 Nov:

A 12 Nov: not pushing stepdad's wheelchair whole time even tho i would have preferred to, in a way. but it would have been bad for my hands, and i would have been doing so mainly out of guilt. (it helped that he himself mentioned my hands without my prompting)

S 13 Nov:

M 14 Nov: typing up and queueing some posts before bedtime

__

something i've discovered with this exercise (already, on day one and two): i don't (always) consider my reblogging and Pokemon Go as self-care. they're more incidental / distractions / my workout a lot of the time.

'course if i'm using them as a break or 100% for fun they can be considered such, but i don't really feel like, in themselves, they are such. they can even be used as self-sabotage, e.g. procrastination (will, i knew that last part, but i didn't connect that to self-care/self-love before)

-> 2 Nov: i'd HOPED to work on a drawing after doing some school things, but i got distracted reblogging for so long that it was too late for that drawing. i remembered the positive self-talk, though, and, even though it wasn't planned and i didn't think that much of it at the time, it certainly was self-love, so it's fair to count it

[5tips]

5 Time management tips for students

Being a student is difficult. It's not just about managing time between class and homework but also about dealing with social activities. Effective time management is about finding the right balance in everything. CBSE schools in Bangalore also help with time management by teaching them the advantages and disadvantages of timely manners. And still, many students neglect to take some time to plan their priorities. It can be hard to stay on top of everything and still have time for yourself. That’s why we’ve put together these five time management tips for students. By following these tips, you can make the most of your time.

Time management tips to follow

There are a lot of demands placed on students these days by top Icse and CBSE schools in Bangalore, and it can be tough to keep up with everything. One way to help you stay on top of things is to manage your time wisely.

Here are a few tips followed by the best CBSE schools in Bangalore to help you get started:

To-do List

A to-do list helps capture every task and collaborate with team members in one place. Make a list of everything you need to do. This can include schoolwork, extracurricular activities, chores, and anything else that needs to be done. Best CBSE schools in Bangalore follow this method in offline classes to help students complete their work on time. By following this to-do list, you can be more focused, organized, and calm.

Plan

Set aside some time each day for planning. This will help you stay organised and figure out what needs to be done and when.

Once you have your list, start keeping track of your daily activities by prioritising what needs to be done first and working based on your schedule. Allocate time for each task on your schedule and set deadlines for each task; this will help you focus on the most important tasks. All the CBSE schools in Bangalore spend more time on planning that ensures how children are learning effectively according to time periods.

Avoid multitasking

CBSE schools in Bangalore always teach students to avoid multi-tasking and focus on one thing at a time, plan their days early, remove everything from their desk and screens except for the work they are doing, learn to say no so that they won't get diverted to other work, turn off notifications on their computers, and mainly get enough rest.

Take Breaks

Taking breaks has been shown to be important in recovering from stress, which can, in turn, improve your performance. Recovering from stress can restore energy and mental resources and decrease the development of fatigue. Top CBSE schools in Bangalore involve few activities in breaks so that every student can save more time by focusing more easily.

Get 8-10 hours of sleep

Getting sufficient sleep is essential to help your child recharge his or her mind and have the energy needed to stay on track the following day. Use your master schedule to mark a cut-off time for homework each night as well as a set bedtime. Following this routine will help make sure your child has time to unwind at the end of every day and get the sleep he or she needs.

conclusion

Having a plan and managing your time well can help you make the most of the little time you have in school and live the best school life while at it. All the top CBSE schools in Bangalore have well-laid plans for how to shape students, and when it comes to shaping students into the best versions of themselves, Soundarya Central School is good at it. They have arranged counselors for students to know their psychology and plan accordingly. Each and every student is given importance.

Assuming you have read and taken action on the previous 5 tips, you should now have a much better handle on your time management as a student. Here are some final thoughts to keep in mind:

1) Time is a limited resource—make the most of it!

2) Use a planner or calendar to stay organised and on track.

3) Set goals for yourself and work towards them.

4) Don't procrastinate; get started on tasks right away.

5) Take breaks when needed, but don't let them turn into time-wasters.

6) Keep learning about time management—there's always room for improvement!

[kennyb0y]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be

Ryuguji Ken (Draken) x Reader (Mentions of Draken x Emma)

Warnings: characters death, angst, unrequited love, angst/no comfort

Network: @shibuyawardnetwork

You have known Draken for as long as you can remember. He was one year older than you and he has always been a constant in your life, someone normal amongst the chaotic girls living in the brothel. He was nice and hardworking and even though he wasn't the smartest, Draken always helped you with school work since you were little kids. You followed him around like a lost puppy, always holding to his cardigan so he wouldn't leave you behind.

From a very young age you admired Draken and everything he did, sparkly eyes following every move.

That is why you hated Sano Manjiro.

In reality, the reason why you hated Mikey was stupid and childish but, to be fair, ten year old you was very stupid and childish. Mikey came into your life and snatched away the only friend you had. He didn't mean to, of course he didn't, it was nothing personal, but it still hurt you because your only friend had now other friends and he stopped hanging out with you. You knew about his new gang life, you heard people talk, but Draken always made sure to tell you to stay away. So, now, the only thing constant in your life wasn't there anymore.

Draken still hung out with you whenever he was home but it was mainly at night, when you were too sleepy to keep the conversation going. You would lay on his bed with him, telling him about your day - because it was always about your day and never his - until your eyes were too heavy to be kept open. However, he stopped helping you with your homework or taking you out for lunch. Because now Draken had his other friends to hang out with and you were forgotten. And to your ten year old self, that was the end of the world.

You realized how immature you were years later. To be honest, you still hated Sano Manjiro but now you were able to hide your emotions better. You wouldn't stare in disgust at him every time he visited the brothel or tell him to leave whenever he greeted you anymore. Now you were merely a fourteen year old whose best friends were the girls working in the brothel. You heard all about Draken and his friends at school and you couldn't help but envy him. He stopped being the tall kid with a dragon tattoo who lived in a brothel and became Draken, the still tall kid with a dragon tattoo who lived in a brothel but he now had a name, a reputation and friends supporting him all the way.

Maybe it was around that age that you started getting feelings other than adoration. Or maybe you had them before but you were too immature to realize them. Either way, at fourteen, you expressed out loud that you were in love with Ryuguji Ken, who you still considered your best friend. Obviously he didn't know - if you were good at hiding your anger towards Mikey, you were good at hiding your love towards Draken - and you weren't thinking about telling him about the recently discovered feelings. The fear of losing your best friend was bigger than the fear of rejection so you kept treating him like you always did and hoped your feelings were reciprocated and he confessed first.

Nothing happened for months. You would go to school, get ignored by Draken, go back home, procrastinate until dinner time and then stay in Draken’s room until he came back. Not even once you noticed something different about him. He kept treating you like a little kid and nothing seemed to change his feelings towards you. So fourteen years old decided to take matters into their own hands.

“There's a festival on the 3rd.” you started, shyly looking away from the taller man sitting next with you with a notebook in his hand. “We should go together since we haven't hung out in a long time.”

“Not really my thing kiddo.”

“Stop calling me that.” you murmured. “Still, I think it would be fun! I miss you.”

“Sorry y/n. I have to pass. Why don't you go with your friends?”

You wanted to tell him. You wanted to scream at Draken that he was the only friend you had besides the girls living with you because everyone else at school didn't try enough to befriend you. You wanted to tell him that you miss the old Draken, the one who cared about you and not that stupid gang of his. You wanted to punch him for keeping you out of his life. But you just got up and walked out expressing that you were tired and should go to bed. Draken only said a 'goodnight’ without looking up from the notebook.

You seeked comfort in some of the girls and they encouraged you to go to the festival either way. Some joked that you might find a lover, a gentleman who will keep you company since you were alone. You weren't hoping for that. You were hoping that Draken would end up changing his mind when he saw you all dressed up for the festival.

But he didn't. Actually, he didn't even saw you. When you left your room, someone told you Draken had left. Your smile dropped the moment you heard that. You considered staying home - there's no way you're going to a festival alone - but the humiliation of going back to the room after spending hours getting ready didn't let you turn around.

So now there you were. It was crowded and you felt suffocated but the amazing smell of different foods kept you distracted enough to prevent a panic attack from occurring. Maybe you could have some fun after all. Food made everything better. You walked around the festival, looking at the different games and toys. You knew you could never win a prize, your aim wasn't the greatest, so you let your mind wander to Draken winning your favorite stuffed toy. That's why you thought you were hallucinating when you spotted Draken’s tall frame. You were quick to make your way to him, perhaps he changed his mind and was waiting for you.

His name gets stuck in your throat when you see the pretty blonde next to him. He was smiling softly at her, listening to every word she said. You don't think there was a type where you saw this look on Draken’s face. He certainly never looked at you that way. It hurts and your brain keeps screaming at you to drop it and go home but you just need to see Draken smile for a few more minutes. You never saw that genuine smile directed towards you. You wished you did.

Your body freezes when his eyes meet yours and that sweet smile you learned how to love in five minutes just disappeared as soon as he recognized you. You put your best fake smile on your face and walk towards him, praying things won't be awkward.

“Hey Ken! Didn't know you were coming.”

“It was a last minute thing.” he looks at the girl beside him. “Emma this is Y/n. They also live in the brothel.” he looks at you. “Emma is Mikey’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you! I love your outfit, by the way. Are you here on a date?”

That is when you started hating Sano Emma. Not because she was a bad person or mean towards you but because she was so nice and so pretty you felt the need to dislike her. Deep down, you knew it wasn't true. No matter how many times you cursed her in your head, you didn't truly hate her. She was the type of girl you wished you could be friends with. Unfortunately, it was painfully obvious how in love Emma and Draken were with each other. Well, to everyone but them. Apparently they were both oblivious enough to not realize that their feelings were mutual and sometimes you just wanted to scream and let them know the other was as in love as they were.

It was nauseating the way they glanced at each other even when you were supposed to be the focus right now.

“Not really. I came alone and saw Ken so I decided to say hi. I won't bother you guys for any longer though! Have fun!”

Silly little you expect Draken to offer to take you home. It was already dark and your neighborhood wasn't the safest but Draken merely said his goodbyes before leaving with Emma.

It was embarrassing the way you still expected him to be the same guy he was four years ago. Like he was going to wake up one day and realize how shitty he has been treating you and how you were meant to be best friends. But he didn't and you were alone on your way back home. Of course, being as lucky as you are, heavy rain started pouring and you couldn't help but laugh at the disgusting cliché. You watched innumerous movies with the cliché rain scene whether it was romantic or sad.

You got home and ignored the worried look Masamichi threw your way and quietly made your way to your room. He knew better than to annoy a teenager and you were glad he left you alone. And like the sad teenager you were right now, you listened to songs until you couldn't keep your eyes open.

You woke up what felt like minutes after with Masamichi shaking you lightly and calling your name. You could barely process the words coming out of his mouth and made a confused noise, rubbing your eyes to adjust to the light.

“- to the hospital.”

“What?” you groan.

“I’m going to the hospital. Ken got stabbed.”

If you weren't awake before you certainly were now. Your guardian almost got knocked over when you suddenly got up, looking for your shoes and a jacket. He could tell how anxious you were and doubted his decision to tell you about Draken’s state but he knew you would hate him if he didn't tell you before.

The car trip was tense, a heavy silence clouding the atmosphere between you and your guardian. He didn't blame you though. Even though Masamichi was a bit slow, the girls would always gossip with him. And it wasn't a secret your secret (maybe not so secretive) crush on Draken. Some of the girls would talk about how it was meant to happen and they were already expecting it. After all, they saw the way you would follow Draken around since the day you met. It was only a matter of time until one of you fell in love. Unfortunately, you were the lucky bastard.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You felt like you could throw up at any moment. You had so many questions. Why did he get stabbed? You thought Toman was just for fun; just kids playing around saying they were a gang to scare other kids. So how does Draken end up in the hospital?

Masamichi places a hand on your head as comfort and then guides you to the waiting room. You didn't expect to see so many people - probably Draken’s friends - sitting there. You tried to ignore the confused stares and sat down in one of the painfully uncomfortable chairs while your guardian left to talk to the nurses.

You only recognized Mikey and Emma but they both looked too caught up in their own thoughts to see you there. It was for the best, you didn't want to introduce yourself to everyone else. But, of course, your prayings are never heard.

“Y/n-chan! What are you doing here?” Mikey’s voice sounded and you lifted your head up to be met with Mikey right in front of you.

“What do you think, smartass? Need to know if Ken’s ok.”

“Always so hostile. Everyone, this is Y/n. They're Draken’s friend.”

“What happened? Why did he get stabbed?”

Emma gave you a soft smile. You could see that she had been crying, her red eyes gave that up. She was the one who told you what happened. In the end, you wanted to punch every single one of them. How could they let a rivalry get to that point? You were all just kids! You didn't have the most perfect life and certainly not the most common but you weren't in risk of getting stabbed! Not more than any normal person that is. So how did they let their stupid little fights get to this point?

Luckily, Draken survived. You saw the way his friends celebrated, true happiness and relief in their smiles. You couldn't help but feel anger towards them. This only happened because of them; Draken wouldn't even be here if they didn't drag him to that lifestyle.

You waited in that shitty chair until visiting hours. Your whole body hurt but the pain was ignored when you saw Draken sitting on the bed, alive and well. You carefully hugged him, your face hiding on his neck while you sobbed. It didn't matter how distant you and Draken had become, you still got so scared. Even if things weren't like they used to, you wouldn't be able to handle the pain of losing him.

The pain on your body was ignored but you felt your chest ache when Draken didn't hug you back.

If you thought you and Draken were distant then, it only got worse as time went by. The only time Draken would talk to you was to mention Emma and ask for advice. He knew you wouldn't tease him like the rest of the girls but it's not like you were in the mood to hear him talk about another girl. However, you still helped him no matter what. You were always so kind that you didn't even think about ignoring him. This made you feel like a kid again, watching Draken from afar and admiring everything he did. Except this time, it was like you weren't even there. Draken wouldn't turn around and smile at you or pat your head and say “good job” whenever you did something right. He kept growing distant and you tried to run after him, you really did, but the faster you ran the faster he disappeared.

So you settled with being a background character in Draken’s story. At this point, you were just a side character in your own story with Draken being the main character. And, of course, Emma was the beautiful love interest.

For the most part, you were kept in the dark. What you knew about Toman was what you heard from other people. Draken never spoke a single word about bloody halloween or whatever happened on christmas. He didn't tell you about Baji or Kazutora and you found out about everything because people gossiped. It made you hate everyone in Toman or related to it even more. Draken watched his friends die, another one go to jail and multiple getting beat up, how could you support his lifestyle after everything? Especially when Draken wasn't speaking to you or anyone about what happened.

You didn't know what to do when you saw him break down in front of you. You don't think you ever saw Draken cry or even tear up. He always looked so strong and unaffected by everything that you got scared when you saw the fat tears rolling down his face while he was on his knees, hugging your waist and sobbing. It felt like a dream. You managed to get him up and guide him to his room, your own tears burning your eyes but you refused to cry. It was time to be the strong one. You waited until Draken stopped crying and his breath calmed down. Your hand was holding his, thumb caressing his knuckles.

At first you couldn't process his words. “Emma is dead.” What? “They fucking killed her.” … “I loved her so much Y/n.” What were you supposed to say? You're barely fifteen and you weren't a therapist. You were just a normal teenager. Emma was a normal teenager, why is she dead? You hated yourself for the times you wished she would just disappear. You didn't mean it. She made Draken happy, you didn't want her to die.

You tried to comfort Draken but you couldn't even deal with the death of her yourself. Fifteen year olds shouldn't have this much pain in their life. What were you supposed to do?

The truth is Emma’s death made Draken get closer to you again. He would seek you for comfort and even if sometimes it felt like he was trying to replace her by using you, you couldn't be more grateful to have him back in your life. It took him weeks to stop crying about her. But he managed to move on, that is what she wanted after all.

You both grew up, you saw Draken turn seventeen, drop out of school and get a job doing something he loved. And he saw you turn sixteen, encouraged you to keep going to school and saw you everyday after school hours when you visited his shop. You kept growing together and Emma was still fourteen.

Eventually, you saw him fall in love with you. Well, at least that is what you believed.

It started small. Drake would stare at you for longer than usual. He would touch you more than normal, always seeking for your skin on his. Your hands would brush when walking and Draken would intertwine your pinkies. When you look at him, his face is turned to the side and the tips of his ears are red. Both of you would get bolder, secret touches not so secret anymore. You and Draken would act like couples at times but he never asked and you never brought that up.

Part of you was scared he was doing this just to get over Emma. Even if he was, it was for the best if you didn't know. You could live with the illusion that Draken loved you but you would lose everything if he confirmed that his one true love was and will always be Emma.

But one night, a normal night like the others, you and Draken were hanging out in the shop. He was finishing fixing some bike while you sat next to him reading a boring textbook. The tools hitting the bike echoed through the space and even though you sat in silence, it was still comfortable and calming. That's when Draken turned around and blurred out a confession. It was rushed and confusing, he kept talking and talking and you couldn't understand half of the things he was saying so you just kissed him. It was sloppy and short but it was your first kiss and you wouldn't have wanted it with anyone else. You're a stuttering mess afterwards, trying to apologize for the sudden kiss when Draken kisses you again.

That is the night you started dating Ryuguji Ken.

Your relationship was everything you dreamed of. He was sweet and caring, always making sure you were ok. He would buy you gifts, take you on dates and even introduced you to all of his friends. You have been dreaming about dating Draken since you were a little kid and now it is happening. A part of you still argued that he was just using you to replace Emma. But he couldn't be right? How could he lie? The kisses, the dates, the caring words, they all had to mean something. So you ignored the part of you that tried to warn you and focused on Draken. Your boyfriend Draken.

You knew you would marry him someday. How could you not? All of your firsts were taken by him and you took all of his too. You were so sure you loved him but you didn't want to say the L word so soon in the relationship so you waited. And that was a mistake.

Like the day you kissed Draken for the first time, this was another normal day for the two of you. Except that something felt wrong. You couldn't understand why you had the gut feeling something was going to happen but maybe you were just being paranoid. You let Draken know and he merely kissed your forehead and told you to stop worrying that “silly little head of yours”.

But your worries are confirmed when Inui bursts through the door to tell Draken one of his friends is in trouble. You hated that Draken was still involved in gang businesses but you couldn't ask him to leave his friend. He wasn't like that and neither were you. But the weird feeling on your chest still bothered you so you decided to go with him even when Draken argued that he wanted to stay in the shop. He knows you too well to know how stubborn you are so he just accepted your request.

Even though Draken allowed you to go with him, he begged you to wait next to the bike. He wouldn't forgive himself if anything happened to him. He kisses you one last time before running off. The ache in your chest didn't ease when Draken left your view and you walked from left to right, waiting to see Draken come back. Gunshots were heard in the distance and your body froze. It took a few seconds until your body reacted and ran towards the sound. Your eyes looked everywhere trying to find Draken. You grew desperate by the minute. You couldn't find him. You had no idea where he went so you had no choice but to look everywhere. The faint sound of talking caught your attention and you recognized Takemichi’s voice. Your steps slow with the scene in front of you.

Draken is laying on the floor, the three bullet wounds visible from afar. He's saying something but all you can focus on is the amount of blood surrounding him. You carefully approach him. You kept telling yourself that it was just a dream, you were going to wake up in his arms but the rain falling kept reminding you that it wasn't a dream and everything was real.

“Ken…”

Takemichi turns to you and sobs out an apology. You drop on your knees next to him, softly bringing Draken’s head to your lap.

“Hey Ken, don't close your eyes now. I’m here.”

He looks at you with adoration and one of your hands moves to hold his. He smiles weakly at you.

“I love you so much…”

Somehow, you knew he wasn't saying that to you. He wasn't looking at you like he used to. He was looking at you like you were her.

“I love you. Always have and always will.”

“I’m on my way, Emma.”

You still smile at him. You weren't stupid and certainly weren't the little kid you used to be. You knew he wouldn't make it and you just couldn't spend your last moments with him crying because your love wasn't reciprocated. So you smiled and when Draken closed his eyes, as the sound of sirens echoed in the background, you broke down. In the end, it didn't matter how much you tried to love Draken for the both of us. Because he died hoping to finally be with his true love. And that wasn't you.

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[bruh--wtf]

Butterflies

Remus Lupin x Reader

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Next

Summary: You're Lily Evans' little sister. She isn't the only witch in the family.

Remus Lupin Masterlist

You were excited to see your favorite sister again. Today was the day that you went with your parents to get Lily from the train station. You'd seen her over the holidays and read her letters, but you missed her.

You saw your sister's bright red hair and ran through the crowd, ignoring your parents protesting behind you. You were only a year younger than Lily, but sometimes everyone treated you like a child.

"Lily!" You call. She look back, a little confused. You jumped infront of her, not minding the boy she was talking to. You wrapped your arms around, making her stumble back a bit. She laughed, hugging you back just as tightly. "I missed you so much!" You pull away a little bit to look at her. "Petunia has been a nightmare! She's made friends with all these jerks who of course just must hate me! And-" Your sister cuts you off.

"Slow down, Y/N," she says, chuckling. "Petunia and her friends can wait." You nod, and smile again.

"Anyways, I want to hear about your year. Of course I saw you at Christmas, and I read your letters, but still! I'm sure your friends are much better than hers. Will you have them over during the summer? Do you-" a boy cuts you off.

"How much sweets have you had, kid?" The boy with dark hair and glasses asks. Lily gives him a pointed look. He wasn't the boy Lily had been talking to. The other boy had lighter brown hair and was tall. He was scrawny, gangly. But he looked much nicer. And the boy next to the boy in glances had longer black hair. Then there was the fair haired boy who looked like he didn't very well fit in with the other three.

"I'm not a kid," you say, glaring at the boy. Yes, you were short for your age. But you had grown to hate when people assumed things about you because of it. The boy raises an eyebrow, almost amused.

"Yeah, she's definitely Evans' sister," he says, glancing at Lily who rolled her eyes.

"Y/N, this is James, Sirius, and Peter. And this is my friend Remus," she says. Pointedly not calling the other three her friends. You nodded at the other three and gave the much taller boy a small smile.

"Nice to meet you," you say. He nods in agreement, clearly amused with the situation.

"You too," he says. You smile a little more and your parents walk over. Your dad puts a hand on your shoulder, and his other hand fell on Lily's.

"Come on you two, lets get home." Lily nods, smiling at Remus.

"I'll see you around, Remus," she says. He nods, smiling at her. Youu turn to your father and walk back with him.

Lily had introduced you to a few of her other friends from school over the summer. Aparently Remus lives in the 'muggle' world. That's what she said at least. But they didn't actually visit eachother. She mainly hung out with Severus. You didn't really like him, but he was Lily's bestfriend.

"Lily! An owl!" You call up the stairs as an owl stops by the kitchen window. You smile at it, and put some food beside it, and take the two envelopes from it's mouth. It eats the food as you turn to Lily who ran in. She smiled and took the letters from your hand.

She looked a little confused and turned the letters over. Her eyes widened and she looked up at you.

"What?" You ask. She hands you one of the envelopes. You see your name on the back of it. Your eyes widened as well, and you and Lily made eye contact. After a minute she grinned and embraced you.

"Ah! You're a witch!" She says. You stood there in shock. Your parents and Petunia run in. Your parents smiled when they realized, but Petunia scowled.

Just another reason why on the train ride to Hogwarts, you sat with Lily and her friends happily. Mary, Marlene, and Alice all welcomed you warmly. Remus and his friends stopped by to all of you. They looked surprised to see you, Remus was the first to smile.

"Hey, Y/N, nice to see you again," he says. You smile back and nod.

"You too," you say. He chuckles slightly, realizing that's what he said to you when you initially met. Sirius pushes past his friend.

"Huh, didn't think we'd be lucky enough to get two Evans girls with us this year," he says. Lily gives him a sharp, disapproving look. You however, were a little amused. James looked down the hall and chuckled.

"Lets go, Sirius. Snivellus is coming," he says, smirking. You were a little confused.

"His name is Severus, Potter," Lily says. You realized who the nickname was for and couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. Lily gave you a disapproving look, and you pressed your lips together. Trying to hide your smile. It didn't go very well. The boys all smiled at you.

"I like her," Sirius says. You smiled slightly.

"Yeah, me too," James says. Your smile widened slightly.

You were sorted into Gryffindor that night. Lily was very happy for you. You had friends from all houses, but mainly from your own. And the boys seemed to like you. James plopped himself down next to you.

"Hello," he says, smiling. You don't look up from your paper. You were still working on your essay for transfiguration. Remus sat down on your other side, and Sirius sat down on the floor inbetween you and James. His back was against the couch.

"Oh no, boys, we've lost her," Sirius says.

"She's lost, we'll never get her back," James adds, sighing. You turn your head and glare at the two of them. Their eyes widen, almost with fear. You shifted your gaze back to your paper. You'd procrastinated and needed to get the essay done tonight. Remus leaned forward looking over your shoulder. He chuckles slightly and looks back at his friends.

"We haven't lost her," he says. You glare at him, he still looked amused. You reach over and pushed his face back, and he leans back on the couch. His friends try to stifle their laughs, as you look back at your paper.

"Definitely not," Sirius says. You didn't even look away from your paper this time and just slapped the back of his head.

"I say she needs a break," James says. You flip him off over your shoulder, again not looking. You saw him and Sirius exchange a look out of your peripheral vision.

"Guys, just let her get it done," Remus says, you could hear him rolling his eyes.

"She'll blow up if she stresses any more right now," James says.

"I'll blow up if you keep talking, you twat," you say to him. Him and Sirius exchange a look again. This time they nod. They quickly stand up, going towards the boy's staircase. You sigh, trying to just finish your paper. Remus leans forward.

"Do you want help?" He asks, more gently than before. You glance at him and shake your head.

"I'm fine. I'm almost done anyways." He nods, sitting back. He didn't get up or walk away. He just waited for you to be done. Silently. He even opened a book to read while you worked.

In your second year, you'd basically become the Mauraders adopted sister. At least James and Sirius. They treated you like you were their sister and not Lily's.

They were allowed to start going to Hogsmeade, but you had to wait another year.

Sirius was starting his flirting ways.

James had officially started trying to get your sister to go out with him.

Peter was just following their lead.

And Remus sat back, watching their idiocy unfold. You look at Remus, who was sitting beside you on the couch. You knit your eyebrows together. The other three boys were probably somewhere in the castle causing some kind of mayhem. Remus looked up from his book, feeling you looking at him.

"What?" He asks. You turn on the couch.

"Why aren't you with the others right now?" You ask. He seems a little confused by your question.

"I don't know. I just felt like staying here," he says, shrugging and looking back down at his book.

"Then why aren't you like them?" You ask. He chuckles, looking back up at you.

"What do you mean?" He asks, looking amused.

"Like Sirius and James. They've been trying to set you up all year and you couldn't be less interested. Why is that?" You ask. He seems to think about it again. He shrugs again.

"I don't know. I don't like the girls they think I will, I guess," he says.

"Sure, but you don't even try to find a girl that you will like?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. He closes his book, keeping one finger in it as a book mark. He gives you a questioning look.

"Why are you asking?"

"Answer me, I'll answer you," you say just as quickly as he'd finished. He sighs, leaning further into the couch, getting more comfortable. You raise an eyebrow when he pauses.

"I think we're to young," he says after a second. You could tell he wasn't telling the full truth. Maybe that was part of it, but it definitely wasn't all of it. You knit your brows together, trying to think of his reasoning. You just didn't get it.

So you just turn back to your homework. "Hey, you said you'd tell me," he says. You glance at him.

"Guess I'm just curious," you say. He clearly doesn't believe you. He won't give you a full answer? He won't get one either.

[be11atrixthestrange]

According To The Stars

Be11a writes Jily Fluff! Read here or on AO3

*******

According To The Stars

While working on Divination homework, James learns something new about Lily. Good thing Divination is a load of rubbish... or is it?

*******

James wasn't sure if he believed in Divination, or if it was just a load of rubbish. Honestly, one of the only reasons he was still taking the subject was the company — it was on Lily Evans' sixth-year timetable, and therefore his.

His friends had dropped the subject, and they made sure to take the mickey out of him when he signed back up.

"Divination, really James?"

"Why take that when you could have a free period?"

"Is it the subject matter that fascinates you, or is it a certain redhead?"

The questions were rhetorical, and his friends knew that. They were perfectly aware of James' motivation for sticking around in Divination, and they knew that he preferred they weren't there. Not many students continued beyond their O.W.L. year in the subject, and James was happy that Lily was the only other student he knew well. He could assure they would always be partnered up for projects, and he didn't have to worry about anyone swooping in and stealing her attention from him. Not Remus, Sirius, Peter, or worst of all, Snivellus.

James was procrastinating on his Divination essay in the Gryffindor common room when Lily approached him.

"Have you started?" she asked.

"Not yet, I was waiting for you. I was hoping you could help."

"You're smart, you'll figure it out," she said as she took a seat at the table beside him. "It's just a birth chart, anyway."

Just a birth chart. The problem wasn't that James thought birth charts were difficult to understand; it was that he hated the idea of them. The fact that the date, location, and time of his birth supposedly determined his fate really bothered him.

Earlier in class, they had mapped out their star signs, and their homework was to analyze them. He had been feeling a pit of dread all day, simply because he'd have to dive into all of the details of his future. He truly didn't want to know what the stars had to say about his life. In James' opinion, there was no point in knowing how or when he might die, who his future wife would be, how many kids he would have, or what he would do for an occupation. It sucked all of the excitement right out of life and stripped him of his autonomy. He wanted to believe that his choices mattered.

He knew he should take it all with a grain of salt because humans could never fully understand the truth of the stars. Predictions were wrong all the time, and there were always going to be flaws in human methods of telling the future.

But the mere idea that James' future was set in stone made him deeply uncomfortable. Like his friends, he could simply choose not to believe in any of it, but the problem was that he sort of did.

He looked over to see that Lily had already started her essay and was scribbling furiously on her parchment. Reluctantly, he turned back to his own star chart and began writing too.

My name is James Potter, and I was born at 5:45 pm on Sunday, March 27th, 1960, in London, England.

This makes my Sun Sign Aries, my Moon Sign Aries, and my Ascendant Libra.

Sun Sign: Aries

The sun determines our ego, identity, and 'role' in life. It's the core of who we are. On my birthdate — Sunday, March 27th, 1960 — my Sun was in Aries.

I am fundamentally assertive, persistent, and courageous. Naturally competitive and fiercely independent, I push things forward with energy and enthusiasm. I am determined, and I persevere through anything.

James thought back to his time on the Quidditch Pitch, where he would do anything for a victory. He was a risk-taker with a deep desire to win, and that had landed him in the Hospital Wing more times than he'd care to admit. He was definitely independent — although he played Chaser on the Gryffindor team, he much preferred the solitary aspect of Seeker; when playing Chaser, his fellow teammates often badgered him for being a "Quaffle-Hog".

I need to learn to understand other people as complex wholes.

The analysis felt spot-on for James. People were like puzzles, and he enjoyed figuring them out. All-day, James had been riddled with curiosity about Lily's birth chart. He was planning to ask her about it tonight and was excited to get to know her on a deeper level.

I feel the need to distinguish myself from others.

James felt exposed by that one. He was a prankster; he enjoyed his popularity, and he often engaged in what others — mainly professors — would call "attention-seeking behavior." Touche, birth chart, he thought, as he carried on writing.

Moon Sign: Aries

The moon rules our emotions, moods, and feelings, reflecting our personalities when we're alone and comfortable. On my birthdate — Sunday, March 27th, 1960 — my Moon was in Aries.

My emotional self is independent, energetic, and enthusiastic. I have a tendency to feel inadequate and overcompensate just because failure is a possibility.

That one hurt a bit. James immediately felt defensive as he wrote it, but deep down, he knew it was true. As the only son of a well-known and successful family, failure was not an option. He was no stranger to pressure, and sometimes he overcompensated. He was a smart kid, but he often relied on his charm to build connections and network. He knew his smooth-talking could drive some people — mostly Lily — insane, but it was nothing more than a defense mechanism because he truly was terrified of failure.

I find security and safety through close relationships and long-term partnerships.

James held his friends close, and had no idea what he would do without them. He believed they would all be there for him for the rest of his life, and he couldn't entertain the idea that they might not. He would risk his life to protect his friends, and they'd do the same for him. According to his analysis, whether or not his overwhelming trust in others was a strength or a weakness was open to interpretation, and James chose to see it as a good thing. What was the point of life without friends, anyway? He smiled warmly at the thought and continued.

Ascendant: Libra

Our Ascendant is the "mask" we present to people. It can be seen in our personal style and our first impressions. Some say its relevance fades as we age. Our Ascendant is determined by our time of birth — I was born at 5:45 pm, meaning my Ascendant is Libra.

I come across as compromising, courteous, and impartial, though sometimes passive-aggressive.

For most people, he was a compromising and courteous individual, at least for people he liked. Unfortunately, passive-aggressive was a no-brainer as well. Some folks — particularly Snivellus — might say he was a bully. In detention, he'd received lectures about how pranking and cursing others was not the proper way to alleviate interpersonal issues. McGonagall never hesitated to tell him that a calm and rational discussion would be much more effective than a Levicorpus Charm. Admittedly, his methods could be considered passive-aggressive.

I am inclined towards balance.

James was a well-rounded fellow, that was for sure. He was an academic, an athlete, and he maintained a social life quite effortlessly. Balance truly was important to him. There was just one part missing from his ideal balance — a relationship. More specifically, a relationship with Lily.

In fact, that missing piece was one of the first things he looked for when he began his birth chart analysis. On a separate piece of parchment, he had scribbled down a few signs — Aquarius, Sagittarius, Leo, and Gemini. According to the stars, his ideal life partner's Sun, Moon, and Ascendant signs should fall into these categories. Part of him didn't want to know what Lily's chart said, and the rest of him needed to. It could all be rubbish, but maybe it wasn't.

"What are your signs, Lily?"

"Why do you want to know?" she asked.

"Research," he said.

"You want to know my fate?"

"You could say that," he responded. It was partially true — he wanted to know what the stars said about her life, but specifically her compatibility with him.

Lily sighed. "My Sun Sign is Aquarius."

James' stomach fluttered with excitement. Aquarius was one of his most compatible signs, so that was a good start. "And your Moon Sign?"

"Pisces."

He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. Nowhere on his chart did it say he should look for someone with a Pisces Moon Sign. "What about your Ascendant?"

James froze in anticipation, hoping for Lily to say one of the four options. Two of three compatible signs would make them a decent match.

"Virgo."

His stomach sank. One out of three matching signs wasn't ideal. Sure, it could work, but it meant that Lily wouldn't be his perfect partner. If he were to believe the stars, there was someone else out there that was better suited to him, and he wasn't sure if he wanted that to be true.

"Are you okay?" asked Lily.

James tried his best to smile and mask his fallen expression. He was okay; he just really wished Lily's astrological signs were fully compatible with his, but he didn't feel like he could tell her that. At least not straight-up.

"Do you believe in all of this?" he asked instead.

"Divination?"

"Yeah, but more specifically, this birth chart stuff. Do you believe that this should determine your future? Your personality, your jobs, and who you should be with?"

"Who I should be with?" she asked, her eyes moving to his parchment. She was squinting, and James wondered if she was trying to read his chart. "What are your signs?"

He hesitated before answering. What if she really did believe in all of it, and learning how lukewarm their compatibility was just turned her away? He knew he couldn't get away without telling her, so he took a deep breath and responded. "Aries, Aries, Libra."

Lily didn't say anything at first, and the pit grew in James' stomach the longer she was quiet.

"Lily?" he asked after she'd been silent for a few seconds too long for comfort. "What do you believe?"

"Honestly?" she said. "I believe it's a load of rubbish. At least I hope it is. What about you?"

He felt a wave of relief at her words. "Good. I think it's rubbish too, and I hope we're right."

She smiled at him, and he grinned back, the heat rising to his cheeks. They turned to their essays and began writing again. There was a little bounce in their quills, a mark of the excitement between two teenagers who just — sort of — admitted something big.

James felt better knowing that whatever his birth chart said about his future, his choices did matter. Sure, the stars might have a plan for him, but if they didn't involve the cute Aquarius beside him, he'd happily choose not to believe any of it.

[unimooshi]

I’m very busy bc I have procrastinated a week’s worth of homework, but while doing said work I thought of an idea!!

LIKE A MASSIVE IDEA THAT I PERSONALLY FELL IN LOVE WITH JUST CAUSE I COULD SO HEAR ME OUT ON THIS!! This is a long post so skip to the end for a TL;DR if you don’t wanna read all this.

Ok ok, so we all know the ship dynamic meme that’s been going around right where people draw their favorite ship dynamics. And my dumbass was just scrolling through insta, ignoring my work as usual, “taking a break”. And I see a ship meme and a scroll through and I see one where it’s like absolute feral monster/murderer x a sweet heart.

And internally I’m just like “aww that’s cute. Reminds me of Optimus and Starscream” and I do my little thing of thinking of all my ships, mainly that one tho and it got me thinking. Cause it’s pretty much agreed upon in the StarPrime/StarOP community that Optimus is the sweetheart and Starscream is the feral monster, but I was thinking what if the roles were actually reversed but we just don’t talk about it.

Like yea Starscream would murder for Optimus, but has anyone ever thought that maybe Optimus would murder for Starscream but it’s just that nobody knows it. Like they’re not truly aware of how dangerous OP really is. Especially not Screamer cause sweetheart OP is all he’s ever known so far, besides battle OP.

Like idk, I just think it’d be funny cause Starscream would think he’s the most threatening in the relationship (which he is, he’s pretty goddamn powerful) but then there OP in the back in the dark with glowing eyes staring down whoever he thinks is a threat towards them. The ominous energy if you will. The “I will fucking bury you and they won’t suspect me” type of vibe. He is extremely dangerous, but he doesn’t actively try to kill anyone. Does that make sense?

Oh my god am I thinking of a Yandere trope? Oh god I think I am hruhehrhrgrhrhhrhrbr. OK SO THINK YANDERE BUT EXTREMELY PACIFIED. THATS WHAT I MEAN WITH THIS WHOLE TEXT POST. HES A CRYPTID IS WHAT IM TRYING TO SAY. LIKE MOTH MAN OR SOMETHING. GOD THIS POST IS A GODDAMN MESS

TL;DR: OP is secretly a feral monster who would murder for Starscream and literally stare everyone down who even poses a threat to him though he acts like a complete sweetheart. Role reversal is what I’m saying.

[cno-inbminor]

immergo

a/n: i recently watched haikyuu and i’m absolutely hooked. to help get it out of my system in time for final papers and assignments, i’m procrastinating by writing this out. hope you enjoy!

featuring: oikawa tooru x fem!reader & some OC’s + iwaizumi

genre: best friends to lovers!au, angst, fluff, slooow burn, some cliches to make people suffer

summary: tooru is as constant as the stars and as real as the earth beneath your feet, yet even for you, he still manages to slip away. and when it’s all too late, only then does he attempt to come back.

word count: 21.9k (this is a monster)

playlist: i wanted to try making one so here's a playlist on spotify: immergo

edit: now crossposted onto AO3 here!

-

You are five years old when you first meet him.

He’s got a terrible bowl cut and sand particles smudged on his cheek. A plastic, ocean blue shovel is dug deep into the sand before being lifted up with a load, then precariously dumped into a matching bucket. A teetering sandcastle threatens to fully collapse, yet somehow still sporting a little plastic yellow umbrella that some other kids might’ve left behind. You’re clutching your mother’s hand, a clenched fist brought up to your mouth to hide the trembling of your lips from the nervousness of approaching new people. The sandbox is a part of the playground, but you want to be there alone. You want to be in your own little world, too terrified to face the unknowns, but after the last two weeks of coming by, this boy is always in the sandbox.

Your mother somehow convinces you that you can make new friends. ‘But don’t boys have cooties?’ you ponder. There’s only a week left until kindergarten starts, and your mother thinks it would be nice to try to meet someone so you’ll at least have some semblance of familiarity. Just when you think you’re brave enough, you almost yelp in renewed fear when another boy comes into the scene and plops down next to the other boy, his own pair of a bucket and shovel dyed a bright, firetruck red, and is ready to start digging up sand. You watch him eye the falling castle, grumbling something to the other boy before attempting to patch it and stand it back up. The other boy stares at him with wide eyes and an open mouth before morphing his face into a childish, happy grin. And immediately, you think, ‘Oh wow, I like his smile.’

Not only is it bright and wide, but there’s a certain feeling of gentleness. None of this is eloquently elaborated in your brain, but there’s a comfort that settles into your mind. That smile is what causes you to (though still hesitantly) let go of your mother’s hand and slowly wobble to the sand box, pause, before you step up and over the wooden border. The two boys have ceased their castle-building duties to stare at you, who’s now sitting in the sand and looking towards anything but them. Your head scrambles to remind yourself on how to say hello, and it must’ve done something correctly because before they can ask questions, you quietly ask, “Can I play with you guys?”

Both boys look toward each other, giving a look, before the boy with the red bucket shrugs and says, “Okay. As long as you don’t mess up my castle.”

Bowl-cut tyke flicks sand at him, causing him to splutter and yell in protest. “Don’t be so mean, Hajime!” Bowl-cut scolds before turning back to you with that earlier grin. “I’m Oikawa Tooru and he’s Iwaizumi Hajime. Wanna help me with my castle?”

And ever since you moved to this new city until now, your mother has never seen your eyes so bright.

-

You are ten years old when Oikawa, with a better hairstyle, receives his first love confession of sorts (because you’re ten).

It takes until fifth grade for you to be finally in a class with both him and Iwaizumi. Other years either had one or neither of them, but you were still able to reconvene during recess. The three of you are attached at the hips during those 30 minutes, either running around in a game of tag, swinging as fast as you could across the monkey bars, or seeing who could swing the highest.

On days when the swings are particularly busy, the three of you would take turns pushing each other, trading off once one of you had your fill. “Higher!” Oikawa would always yell happily, his voice blending in with the rest of the screams and laughs in the playground. With your own laughs leaving your lips as you attempt to push the swing, Iwaizumi would instead yell back at him, “Use your own legs, idiot! That’s what they’re for!” To which Oikawa would whine, but eyes would still crinkle in childish delight as he approached the sky.

But Oikawa notices a lot of things, more than the average fifth grader does. Then again, it isn’t hard to spot the group of giggling girls under a tree’s shade nearby, evidently gazing at him in wonder and affection. He feels his heart soar at the attention and in turn, pumps his legs even harder, almost reaching perpendicular height to the ground. Oikawa admits that he is a bit of a show-off, he wants to be the best, and without warning, releases his hands from the chains and jumps off from the swing.

Both you and Iwaizumi gape at him with a mixture of horror and awe. If you could put this moment in slow motion, you would see Oikawa suspended in mid-air, yet somehow seeming to soar like a bird. His jacket flows behind him as his arms lift up to give a sense of balance, legs stretching out to get ready to meet the ground. You wonder what the expression on his face is like, yet the terror manifests itself into your shriek of his name, pitch and tone overpowering a similar call from Iwaizumi. But Oikawa is Oikawa and he lands on both feet, knees bent and almost touching the ground before straightening back up. You’re about to start running towards him, feet already moving, until you stop because he’s twisting himself towards you and Iwaizumi, V-sign held up and that same, big grin he always has. The sun casts a halo around him and you can’t bring yourself to look away. Your feet stay rooted on the mulch and you watch as Iwaizumi stomps over to punch Oikawa in the arm, yelling about how he could’ve broken his legs and who would he play volleyball with then, leaving you to spot the aforementioned fangirls huddled like they’re coming up with a grand plan.

At first, you think nothing of it. It isn’t until after school as the three of you are walking towards the entrance when you wish you were more perceptive like Oikawa. One of the girls from under the tree has gone up to him, quickly bowing while introducing herself, grabs one of his hands to slap a folded piece of paper into it, and almost sprints away. Oikawa doesn’t have a chance to say anything, but he can only give himself a few seconds to register what just happened and unfold the ripped notebook paper. Inside in pretty cursive is an email address (because none of you have cellphones yet), which causes Oikawa to put on a shit-eating grin. He just basically received a love note, a confession, and his ego has just been fed a meal fit for a king.

He brags and boasts the whole way home, causing a permanent frown to settle on Iwaizumi’s face from pure irritation, and you find yourself only able to stay quiet, pondering and contemplating what this small nasty feeling inside your chest could be.

-

Oikawa and Iwaizumi are fourteen years old, nearly fifteen, when you receive your first love confession, which ends up being a little more refined than a hastily torn piece of notebook paper possessing an email address.

Their afternoons and early evenings are occupied by volleyball. While you had been at Lil Tykes from the ages of 6 to 10, mainly due to a massive fear of missing out and wanting to spend more time with your new best friends then, you didn’t have as much talent as those two and decided to pursue other interests. Iwaizumi and Oikawa had protested vehemently when you broke the news to them one evening over dinner at the setter's house, their mouths full of rice and chicken curry yet somehow still managing to speak over the food. Oikawa’s mother had seen you shrink further and further into your chair before slamming her hand on the table, causing the two boys to startle and cease their yelling.

“Respect (y/n)’s interests! I did not raise you,” she spoke pointedly, directing a finger at her now ashamed son, “to be so rude. If she doesn’t want to play volleyball anymore, then she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t need to keep doing something she doesn’t want to do just because you two said so. Now, both of you apologize to (y/n) and finish your dinner.”

“Yes, mother,” and “Yes, auntie,” both quietly left their lips. You wanted to hug the woman right then and there, tears nearly forming and spilling over at the fact that she was on your side. The two boys had put their spoons down and waited for a few seconds before Iwaizumi finally spoke.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you. We’re just gonna miss you a lot,” he apologized, tone sad and soft. Oikawa was still chewing on his bottom lip when Iwaizumi elbowed him to say something. “Apologize, you idiot,” he hissed.

“Ow! I know, geez. I’m sorry, too. Mom’s right, I should respect what you want to do. We’re gonna miss seeing you, like this meanie said,” Oikawa jabbing a thumb in the direction of his male best friend. Their eyes are still downcast until you let out a small giggle.

“Apologies accepted, you dummies.”

You still found time after your new art classes to go watch them play volleyball with either Iwazumi’s or Oikawa’s mother picking you all up and heading home. The three of you still lived near each other, and the two boys were happy that they could still see you somehow. Lil Tykes after school evolved into official middle school volleyball practice, yet you were still commonly found in the bleachers finishing homework or doodling in a sketchbook, patiently waiting for your two best friends to go home with you.

A teammate by the name of Wakeda had taken notice of you, had seen your interactions with the best players on their team. He had seen how nice you were with your classmates, yet still unafraid to give Oikawa and Iwaizumi shit for the smallest things. Your aura is pleasant and raw in a genuine sense, only fueling his budding, burning crush on you. He decided he wanted to be confident and bold, hoping that you would give him a chance.

The Friday afternoon starts off like any other -- Iwaizumi and Oikawa head off to volleyball practice with a greeting and a wave, receiving one from you in return as you make your way towards the math club. The art classes from late elementary school only served to show that you only possessed some mild talent for drawing and painting, but not enough for you to continue paying money for classes. The passion and drive didn’t exist for you there, not like it does with Iwaizumi and Oikawa in volleyball, and it only became something that you enjoyed in your leisure time. Instead, you eventually find yourself balancing math club and chess club -- math is on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons while chess is on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, but they never run as late as volleyball practice.

As tiring as math club can be sometimes, you usually somehow still find the energy to finish the bulk of your homework before heading home. When you walk through the bleachers and settle into your normal seat, the team spots you and gives you a casual wave. You smile and wave back, setting your stuff down before you clamber towards the edge of the rail and look down to spot the manager. On time, she looks up and greets you with a matching smile, ones that you return. The team is coincidentally taking a quick water break, giving Oikawa and Iwaizumi enough time to quickly chat with you from below (and escape their coach for a hot second).

“How was math club?” Iwaizumi calls out. Oikawa subtly observes you as you shrug. To both him and Hajime, the mental exhaustion is evident on your face and figure, yet they always find themselves asking, waiting, watching.

“It was okay,” you respond, fighting back a yawn. “Practice competition round was a bit brutal. How’s practice?” You quickly digress, noticing Oikawa was about to jump in and ask for some details.

“This crappy guy over here keeps pushing himself too much. You know, the usual,” Iwaizumi speaks before, once again, Oikawa can say anything. The latter turns to him and lets out an indignant “Hey!” before quickly attempting to defend himself.

“Iwa-chan is being mean, I’m not--”

“All right, let’s get back to work! Everybody back on the court!” The coach yells and Oikawa can only drop his shoulders and sigh, slightly trudging back into the bounds of the court outline. You stare after him worriedly -- both he (mainly out of stubbornness) and Iwaizumi (mainly out of friendship and loyalty) had been pulling late extra practice sessions and the dark eye circles were starting to become more and more noticeable. As if he could tell what you were probably thinking, he turns back and gives a thumbs up with a grin, tongue slightly poking out. You can only roll your eyes at his antics, returning to your seat in the bleachers and pulling out your science homework.

The minutes tick by as the sun slowly begins to set, rays streaming through the windows of the gym in a harsh blood orange. The coach takes a look at his watch before blowing his whistle, signalling the end of practice. The sound of volleyballs hitting skin abruptly stops, except for one last jump-serve that Oikawa sneaks in. The coach berates him loudly, only causing Oikawa to sheepishly smile and rub the back of his neck. All the players bow and announce their thanks before moving to complete their respective clean-up duties. By this time, you gather your stuff and make your way towards the ground floor. Even if your best friends were going to do some extra practice, it’s better for you to sit at their level against the wall.

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor increases in volume as you approach the court. But before you can make your way towards Iwaizumi and Oikawa on the other side of the net, Wakeda calls out your name. You turn towards the left to see him pick up a volleyball not far from you, and Wakeda is counting his lucky stars that he was provided with an excuse to be near you.

“Aoki-san,” you greet him by his last name. “How was practice?”

“It was good, but Coach really worked us to the bone today,” he nervously replies, hands subtly clenching the volleyball in his hands. “I was wondering if I could speak with you for a second? In private?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You’ve never really had much interaction with him outside of volleyball practice, and even then it was very limited to pleasantries. Perhaps it’s about Iwaizumi and Oikawa running themselves to the ground, and nothing to do with you. “Sure,” you agree, looking around before gesturing towards the door of the gym. “We can talk out here, if you’d like.” Wakeda quickly nods and follows you. At this time, the other boys have retreated towards the locker room except for one. One who narrows his eyes at the retreating backs of two people making their way out of the gym.

He puts the last ball in the ball cart, ignoring his friend’s confused look as he jogs towards the entrance of the gym and leans against the wall out of sight. He knows it's wrong to eavesdrop, but he just has to know about what could be unfolding.

The two of you are only a few feet away from the open door and you can only look perplexed as Wakeda begins to look more and more bashful, stumbling over words and anxiously tossing the ball side to side between his hands.

“Is everything okay?” You ask worriedly, trying to maintain eye contact until you can because he’s looking straight down towards the ground. Your heart pounds in your chest as you start to fathom what might be happening.

“I’m sorry, I just -- I like you. I think you’re really nice and cool, and I would like it if I could take you out on a date.”

You’re stunned into silence. Never has anyone expressed any semblance of romantic interest in you, nor has anyone confessed. You’ve never been in this position and the first thing your brain starts to unravel is the puzzle of how to turn someone down. It’s not that going on a date with Wakeda would be terrible -- you just don’t know enough about him. You don’t want to bring his hopes up, but you don’t want to bring him down either.

On the other side of the wood, the boy’s eyebrows are furrowed. His arms are crossed and a foot is perched against the wall, legs making the shape of the number four. His eyes are burning holes into the window across from him and he can’t figure out why a feeling of protectiveness is washing over him. But what he can’t figure out even more is why his mind is instantly screaming, “Please say no please say no please say no don’t say yes don’t leave us don’t leave me--”

“I’m sorry,” he hears, ears straining to catch your voice as you softly apologize. You watch as Wakeda’s shoulders slump and the volleyball is finally kept still between his hands. You gently put a hand on his upper arm. “I can tell you’re a nice guy, but I don’t feel that way about you. I’m sorry.”

Wakeda lets out a long breath before mustering up his best smile for you. “It’s okay, I was kind of expecting it." A hand reaches up to run a hand through his hair in embarrassment and he’s trying to think of what to say next. Be bold, be confident, his inner self reminds him as he stands tall again. Wakeda puts up the cheekiest smile you’ve seen on him so far. “But I’ll be waiting, if you ever change your mind.”

The statement only makes you smile first and then chuckle. Wakeda basks in the sound for as long as he can before he shyly joins you. The laughter isn’t meant to demean him in any way, but it’s the only reaction you can feel yourself make. It’s all so foreign to you, but you’re glad that your first interaction like this is with someone as kind as him. You trust Oikawa’s teammates.

“Thank you though, it must’ve taken a lot of courage to do this. To be honest, this has never happened to me before and I just don’t know what to say,” you ramble a little, now wondering if you’ve said too much. Wakeda begins to look a little more comfortable before making his way back to the gym with you following.

“Would it be cheesy to say I’m glad I was the first?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I know now that I’m never changing my mind.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Wakeda exclaims, only causing you to laugh. “You gotta leave some room for chance so--”

“Oi, Wakeda,” you hear a familiar voice call out. Your eyes spot Oikawa slowly making his way from the other side of the gym, walking towards you two with a hand in a pocket and another hand in the air, waving. But it’s perplexing because his chest is heaving like he just sprinted his fastest around the court. “Is that the last ball?”

“Ah, yes, sorry senpai!” Wakeda apologizes before tossing the ball into Oikawa’s awaiting hand. It quickly gets thrown into the ball cart. When you two are standing right in front of him, your friend pats Wakeda on the shoulder. “Go ahead and clean up, you deserve a break,” he says before smiling. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes or even match his eyes. His chestnut orbs have another emotion burning in them, far from the light they would usually glint when paired with a genuine grin. Wakeda quickly lets out a “see you around” and you wave back at him. Once the boy has disappeared into the locker room, you direct your attention back to Oikawa. That earlier fire in his eyes has dimmed a little, but you want to know what it is and why it’s there.

A word barely leaves your tongue when strong arms hug you to a sturdy chest. They intertwine around your shoulders, the squeeze becoming more and more constricting. Your chest tightens and you’re not sure if it’s your heartbeat or his that you’re feeling beat against your chest. In a movement of instinct, you hesitantly wrap your own arms around Oikawa, hand linking to hold onto your own wrist behind his back. Your face is pressed into his shoulder, your nose catching the lingering scent of his deodorant mixed with his sweat. His chin is perched over your shoulder momentarily before he buries his face in the crook of your neck, causing you to stiffen.

It’s not that Oikawa has never hugged you before. There have been plenty of hugs with the two boys over the last nine years, but something is different about this one. There’s an underlying intention hidden in the muscles of Oikawa’s arms, hidden in the way that he breathes in your scent. Something heavy is unspoken as a sense of intimacy falls over the two of you like a soft blanket. You can only gently grasp the back of his jersey, his grip somehow tightening even more, and finally find your voice to speak.

“Tooru,” you murmur, fighting the sensation of your heart caught in your throat. Very rarely do you ever say his name in that tone, one so gentle and full of friendly affection (but did he want it to be just friendly?), so caring and drowned in empathy. “Is everything okay?” You continue and ask. He’s trying to tell you something. He’s trying to scream it through his mind, hoping it’ll somehow miraculously meet yours. But even he doesn’t understand what’s drawing him to do this. All he knows is that as soon as Wakeda was out of sight, he needed you here in his arms. The non-verbal pleas of worry and want from earlier have substantially settled, now morphing into thoughts of “It’s okay, she’s here, she isn’t leaving us, she isn’t leaving me--”. It must be the stress from wanting to become the best, from the stress of Kageyama Tobio’s looming ascent to the top, from the general stress of classes. It must be those. It couldn’t be anything else.

“Everything’s fine,” he replies into your neck, sound muffled but just as quiet as yours had been. You can only feel your heart sink at how strained those words came out. Everything was clearly not fine. Your hands unlink and move to his waist, putting some force into your palms to try to separate from him so you can see his face. But Oikawa quickly protests a soft “no”, once again pulling you as close to him as possible with an arm around your waist and the other soon joining. He can’t handle distance from you right now, some budding anxiety from your attempts at separation quickly subdued as you’re pressed fully against his chest again. “Just give me this moment,” he thinks and pleads to some unknown force.

“I’m just...stressed,” he says before letting out a long breath and disentangling himself from you. But he doesn’t move far, the tips of both of your sneakers just centimeters apart from touching. He straightens his back and lifts his head to momentarily look into your eyes, your own face slightly tilted upwards to meet his gaze. But before you can decipher the emotions in his eyes, his head tilts down to lean his forehead against yours. Though his eyes are closed, yours are still open in muted astonishment. If the hug wasn’t very new, then this action was definitely new. The tip of his nose barely grazes yours, causing your breath to hitch, once again feeling your heart stuck in your throat. You struggle to breathe, especially when his lips are so close to yours. Somehow your thoughts drift to thinking of what would happen if you elevated your feet just a little bit, what would it feel like if your lips softly met his--

“There’s a lot going on,” he interrupts your (silly, silly) thoughts. “I keep getting reminded of how I’m not good enough, and maybe I never will be. But I want to be the best, you know?” For how tall Oikawa is, you’ve never heard him sound so small before. Your eyes can’t help but flutter closed as you relish in the sound of his voice. You try to understand what he’s feeling, the frustration, the stress, the insecurity.

“I hate knowing there’s someone better out there. I hate that there’s someone out there, right here, who’s got the pure talent and prodigal level that I don’t have because I keep getting reminded of how I’m not the one who has it. It’s just not fair, (y/n), do you understand?”

“But I know you’re here for me. And Iwaizumi. I know you believe in me and in us. You're right here with us. You always are,” he continues before you can affirm and acknowledge him. His fingers ghost over your skin, up from your wrists, to your elbows, then your shoulders, lastly lingering at the sides of your neck. Goosebumps break out in the wake of his tender trail and you fight the urge to shiver. You so badly want to open your eyes and drink in this moment of vulnerability from Oikawa, but you’re afraid that you’ll do something rash, something you’ll regret. You’re then given all the more reason to keep your eyes shut when his hands gently cradle your face, his thumbs on your cheeks, the other fingers softly splayed down your neck. He inhales sharply, then daring to slant his head down just the slightest distance, your noses firmly touching now. Your heart is now thrashing wildly against your ribcage -- you have no grasp on what is happening.

“Promise me you’ll never leave us, (y/n),” he implores, raw desperation laced and building in his voice. You can’t help but recognize the tears uncontrollably forming behind your eyelids. Nothing else around you matters -- it’s only you and Oikawa in this impenetrable bubble that you two have created. You’re too far in now, sinking and drowning into this body of water that is him, entangled and rooted in this web that he’s so quickly and craftily woven. He could ask anything of you and you would do it in the blink of an eye. How he made you feel this way in just a few minutes, from the door of the gym to the embrace of his arms, is completely beyond you, but you can’t seem to find the complaints within you. ‘How cruel of him,’ you despondently think, still unable to find it in yourself to be mad. ‘How wicked of him.’

But then Oikawa deals the final blow with a shaky breath. He lays out his last trap, one that you can’t escape. It’s the final straw, the last pull into a heartbreaking world that you will never be able to escape from for as far into the future as you can see; desperation, yearning, beseeching.

“Promise that you’ll never leave me.”

Nothing, nothing, can stop you from whispering what he so deeply desires to hear, fall delicately off your tongue.

“I promise.”

And his lips crash onto yours.

-

You and Iwaizumi are fifteen years old when Oikawa falls to his lowest.

The kiss was a one-time thing. It had lasted no more than a few seconds when the sound of the locker room door swinging open had you two jumping apart and turning away from each other. Oikawa found it easier than you did to compose himself, though internally he was berating his actions. What was it that made him do such a thing? What was it that pushed him to cross the line he never thought he’d cross? What was it that made him want to spin back around and continue what he had started?

“Iwa-chan!” He had hollered across the building, waving over said male who had smartly refrained from changing his clothes. “Help with some tosses? Serves?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Iwaizumi had muttered under his breath, grunting his affirmation loud enough. But in his peripheral, he had spotted your figure hunched over your things on the bench, had squinted at the way you seemed to be shaking, shivering. He had noticed the look, almost a glare, that Oikawa had directed towards Wakeda before imperceptibly shaking his head to focus on the extra task.

And it wasn’t until weeks later that Oikawa breached the subject during a walk home, sans you because you had late night practice with the math club to prepare for some upcoming Olympiad competition. You were insistent through text that they didn't wait for you and that one of your teammates would help walk you home. Oikawa argued quite relentlessly against it until you threatened to block him from the group chat (though it wasn’t the first time you threatened such a thing) and Iwaizumi decided to take his phone away.

While much wasn’t being said, mainly both preoccupied with their popsicles that they had stopped at a convenience store for, Oikawa broke the silence.

“I kissed (y/n).”

Iwaizumi nearly choked on his popsicle, spluttering and struggling to find the right words to say. Yet the best he could come up with was, “So are you two...dating?”

“No.”

“What the fuck? Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we’re best friends, Iwa-chan. I didn’t know when to tell you though, thought you’d get mad at me,” Oikawa said, pouting childishly.

“So...well, you can tell me what happened before it later. But what happened after? And when did this even happen?”

“Everything just went back to normal. We never spoke about it. And it happened a few weeks ago in the gym after practice.”

“But why?”

“Hmm…” Oikawa had pondered for a few seconds and then shrugged. “Not sure. I was just really stressed, and I was scared that she’d leave us.”

“Us? How am I included in this? And where’d you even come up with that thought?”

“Because it’s always been us three, and it’s always gonna be us. We can’t be apart.”

“We’re eventually going to be apart, you know. It’s not likely that we’re all going to end up in the same city.”

“No,” Oikawa spoke obstinately, hands harshly crushing the wrapper around the now empty popsicle stick. “That’s not going to happen. We’re going to stick together wherever we go. We’ll play for the national team and (y/n) will find a job in Tokyo. We’re always going to be near each other. That’s how it’ll be. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Iwaizumi had nothing to say about that, except for, “We’ll see.”

In the month or so to the blossoming age of fifteen, things don’t change very much. Oikawa becomes more physically affectionate with you and Iwaizumi. You try not to notice how often and how casually Oikawa tends to sling an arm over your shoulders. He does the same with Iwaizumi, though the latter is more likely to shrug it off in mock annoyance and causes Oikawa to lament about lost friendships. But even if physical distance has shortened, Oikawa begins to dig a mental wall between you two. His face becomes more hardened during practice, rarely ever putting up an earnest smile with his teammates. The late-night practices run even later, each serve hitting harder, each toss against the wall getting stronger. The nights when you leave him on his own slowly increase in frequency, going back home with only Iwaizumi. The third leg of the triangle missing feels so adulterated, so wrong. Oikawa is digging himself towards a hell that he won’t be able to return from, but how can you lift him back up? How can you dig your heels into the earth and pull him back out?

“I’m trying my best,” Iwaizumi attempts to comfort you one night. He sees how often you turn back to look at Oikawa as the two of you reluctantly move to leave the gym. Practice had been rough on him, getting switched out with Kageyama Tobio. You had watched his defeated body collapse onto the bench, and there was nothing more that you wanted to do than to run down and snap him out of whatever mental spiral he had created. One serve after another slams into the ground, his figure hunched and panting yet pushing itself to the limits.

“He’s going to kill himself at this rate,” you whisper morosely, turning back to peer at the dark sky. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“You know there’s no one more stubborn than that idiot. He’d have to pass out for you to drag him out of here.”

“Please teach me how to serve!” A young male voice calls out. Both of you pivot on your feet to see the source, eyes focusing on the scene of Kageyama Tobio requesting a seemingly simple task from a senpai.

But you can only watch as Oikawa’s eyes lose any semblance of emotion, instead only darkening with what seems like rage entering his body. He begins to tremble, and Iwaizumi must’ve seen something shift because no sooner than that does he bolt at top speed towards the unsuspecting pair. You can only watch in horror, shell-shocked, as Oikawa begins to forcibly swing his right arm, the back of his hand aiming straight for Tobio’s right cheek.

A horrible screech unearths from your throat in the form of a piercing “NO!” and slices through the air, just as Iwaizumi is able to stop Oikawa’s assault on the poor unsuspecting underclassman. You’ve never seen him so uncontrolled, so ready to intentionally commit an act of violence against an innocent person. Your ears pulse with your heartbeat, barely registering Iwaizumi apologizing to Tobio and giving Oikawa the lecture of his life.

The latter is reminded of the purpose of having a team, is scolded for having been so selfish in his pursuit for excellence. You start sprinting over when Iwaizumi headbutts Oikawa in the nose for his insolence, tossing your bag down as it only decreases your speed. You don’t care for the trouble of cleaning out blood stains from towels when you begin to clean his face, his eyes still furious and full of anguish but somewhat softened when he sees your tears. He continues to let Iwaizumi teach him a lesson while you pinch the bridge of his nose and tilt his head back. Like handling a doll, you have to lift his arm so he can keep the towel in place himself. You then scurry off to find the first-aid kit, leaving Oikawa to fend for himself. Only a couple of minutes later, the three of you are sitting on the ground and you’re dabbing ointment on the emerging bruise right in the middle of Iwaizumi’s forehead. Iwaizumi is a little calmer now, though he’s still verbally punishing Oikawa for even thinking of purposefully hurting a teammate.

Oikawa thinks the three of you are all fine and okay. He’d be ridiculously thickheaded if he wasn’t able to catch onto how quiet you are on the walk home, how instead of walking between him and Iwaizumi, you’re now on the opposite end. There’s a tug at his heartstrings when he plays with the idea that you’re attempting to put distance between you and him, but he refuses to believe it. His actions were a momentary lapse in terrible, awful judgment, and you had forgiven him. Why else would you have tried to help with his nosebleed? There’s no way you’d let something like this drive a rift in the trio.

There’s just no way.

-

“You’ve been avoiding him, haven’t you?”

There are times when you forget that Iwaizumi can be just as perceptive as Oikawa. For the last two weeks, you would, more often than not, avoid them during lunch. You attempt to show up at their volleyball practice as late as possible, saying that your club activities went longer than usual to prepare for upcoming competitions. You still walk on the opposite side from Oikawa on the way home and only give the bare minimum answers to any of his questions, leaving very little room to continue conversation. The atmosphere is heavy and awkward, tension so thick that Iwaizumi would need a chainsaw to cut through it.

This time you’re on the roof of the school. It’s cliché, so cliché, but the weather was too hard to ignore. Mostly cloudy with a slight wind, the perfect temperature without feeling too hot or too cold. You loved being outside during these days, and you had weaved as fast as possible through the emerging crowd of third years, up the stairs, and onto your personal sanctuary. Your bento is half-eaten when Iwaizumi makes his presence known. You should’ve seen this coming.

“He’s worried about you, y’know?”

“I know.”

“He misses you.”

“I know.”

“...he wants to know if you’re avoiding him because of that incident.”

“...which one?”

“The kiss.”

You whip your head in his direction, giving Iwaizumi an incredulous and affronted look. Instinctively, Iwaizumi throws his hands up, signaling that you shouldn’t shoot the messenger. God, Oikawa could be such a clueless buffoon sometimes. You scoff and nearly snort. Iwaizumi looks about ready to tear his hair out.

“So the great king thinks that I’m avoiding him over something that we haven’t talked about that happened a few months ago?”

Iwaizumi can’t find the words when you slam your bento box down on the ground, chopsticks thrown haphazardly on top and almost rolling off the edges. Iwaizumi catches them as you stand up in anger and begin to pace in front of him.

“Who does he think he is? He’s got a decent following of fangirls to help stroke his ego, and I’m sure some of them are more than willing to worship the ground he walks on. His teammates practically idolize him -- sans you -- but he thinks I’m losing sleep over some kiss we had months ago? It would make much more sense if this had been a couple of weeks after that, but we’re talking months right now! How is it," you stop in your stride, bottom lip beginning to tremble as you look down at Iwaizumi. "How is it that he’s one of my best friends who’s known me for almost 10 years, a genius in his own way, but still can’t tell that I’m avoiding him because I’m scared of him?”

This time, Iwaizumi is confused.

“You’re scared of Oikawa?” He asks, trying to confirm what he just heard.

You let out a long breath, forcing yourself to simmer down and keep a cool head. Part of you feels guilty, yet another part feels justified for your actions. You were only protecting yourself; it was only natural.

“I’ve never seen him like that,” you begin, gingerly sitting back down next to him. The comfort of your best friend that you’ve been denying yourself of is granted as you rest your head on his shoulder. You link an arm around his as well as you begin to curl into a familiar position. Iwaizumi only naturally rests his head on top of yours, hands folded in his lap and legs stretched out.

“I’ve never seen him look so angry, even when that one kid in second grade tried to make fun of you. Or even when someone took the shit talking too far at an official game last year. But he was ready, Iwa-kun. He was ready to displace Tobio out of sheer anger and spite. I know he knows better now. I’ve seen how much better he meshes with you all on the court and attempts to bring the best out of everyone. But it’s hard to look at him sometimes and forget what he was then. What if he gets mad like that at us one day? What if he tries to hit you?”

What if he tries to hit me? is left unsaid, but they ring loud and clear in both of your heads.

“The idiot knows that I could take him down in a fight if it ever came to it. And since it’s apparently not obvious, I’m just letting you know that Shittykawa would rather throw himself off a cliff before ever laying a finger on you like that.”

“But how can you guarantee that?” You argue back, lifting your head up to look him square in the eyes. You want to see if the same hesitancy is reflected in his orbs, the same uncertainty that had been slowly building up in you as an ugly beast. Instead, his eyes are steady and full of promise, never straying from yours as he ends the debate.

“You can trust me. And if I’m wrong, I promise I’ll do anything to make up for it, though the chances are very, very low. They’re practically non-existent.”

And if Iwaizumi says so, well…then it probably is so.

“...I trust you then,” you comply, your head leaning down to rest on his shoulder again. “You better be right.”

“I know I am.”

Silence.

“If you’re not going to eat the rest of your bento, you should give it to him. He’d be happy to see you.”

A few sighs later, a couple of stretches, some steps down the stairs, you find yourself stuck at the door of their classroom. You can see him with his jacket on, head buried in his arms on his desk and turned towards the windows. Iwaizumi gives you an encouraging pat on the shoulder and you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Somehow you find yourself demurely sitting in the empty desk chair in front of him, hands clutching your bento box and chopsticks. Iwaizumi stands by you and watches as you quietly gulp.

“Tooru, wake up.”

Oikawa thinks he’s dreaming. More often than not, you had plagued his visions in sleep, often ending with you attempting to wake him up, but it had been spoken by his mother. He would be disappointed that it wasn’t you by his bedside trying to goad him out from under the sheets.

“Tooru, wake up. I have food.”

This is different. His eyes are bleary and caked with exhaustion, vision catching the light that peaks from under his elbows. Her voice is so close -- he has to give in and just look. Oikawa lifts his head and stares in front of him. He blinks once, then twice, then multiple times, and you’re still there. This is not a dream, he concludes. This is too good to be a dream.

You watch him warily as he attempts to gather his bearings. In the meantime, you open your bento and grab the last onigiri. When Oikawa begins to form the sounds for your name, you quickly stuff the rice ball into his mouth, causing him to give a muffled protest and use one hand to prevent the food from dropping. You watch with muted delight as everything begins to hit him all at once: the food in his mouth, you in front of him with a close-lipped smile, Iwaizumi leaning on the desk next to you two, the sunlight beaming through the windows.

His eyes slightly water, choosing wisely to not say anything for now. Oikawa dutily finishes the rice ball before you place the bento in front of him with chopsticks neatly arranged to the right of it. His hands shoot out to cover yours before they leave the bento, squeezing gently as he looks at you with apologetic puppy eyes. You can’t stop your smile from widening, and only then does Oikawa happily let go, thank the food, and begin to chow down with a gusto that had been missing for the last week.

Things are going to be okay. Unless that group of fangirls seething at you over in the corner is an indication of something otherwise.

-

You turn sixteen when Oikawa gets his first, real girlfriend.

It’s your first year at Aoba Johsai and Oikawa has captured the hearts of many people from around the area, be it still from middle school, or even some of the upperclassmen. Those who are engrossed in school volleyball were surprised to hear that he didn’t matriculate into Shiratorizawa. And because Oikawa keeps most everyone at arm’s length, only very few people know the reason why. It wasn’t that he was good enough to get in, that’s for sure -- it had mainly been him refusing to “serve” Ushijima. The Herculean boy can criticize his choices all he wants, but Oikawa will never step down from his pedestal willingly.

What no one knows besides Oikawa himself is that Ushijima was only 70% of the reason. The other 30%? He was not going to be the one that separates the trio. What a hypocrite he would be if he had left after having so passionately convinced Iwaizumi that the three of you would always be with each other.

Little do the two boys know that you had seriously considered going to Shiratorizawa. They knew how smart you were as you consistently placed in the top 5 of your class throughout middle school. What they didn’t catch onto was also how well you did in math club and chess club -- to be fair, they knew you excelled, they just weren’t sure of the details. Inquiries about your competitions were always answered in team format: we did well or we placed pretty high. The same existed for chess competitions -- you weren’t a national champion by any means, but you were still somewhat recognized. But again, the same answers were given: we all did well. Math club and chess club never had the public presence that other clubs did. Very few cared, and much less was said.

Before Oikawa pointed out how disgusted he was by the idea of going to Shiratorizawa, you had studied for their entrance exams in your spare time. You didn’t play any sports, so those scholarships were out of the question. It’d all have to be based on merit and you were ready to prove yourself. You had gotten past the first two rounds of exams without them knowing, and your nights only became longer and longer as the material increased in difficulty. But then the two boys talked about going to Aoba Johsai together since they were invited anyways, and not long after, you found yourself at the entrance of the testing center with Oikawa and Iwaizumi on either side, putting Shiratorizawa to the back of your mind.

Things are more brutal in high school. Subjects are more difficult, classes take more time, after-school activities often extend past the sunset. There are physically not enough hours in a day to spend nearly the amount of time you used to have with Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The fangirls increase, Iwaizumi’s irritation becomes more exaggerated, and Oikawa becomes too nice on the fan-service.

He’s the triple threat: smart, kind, an amazing volleyball player. You and Iwaizumi can only roll your eyes as he plasters on his fakest grin for the crowd of girls huddling around him, demanding his attention. A part of him is thankful that so many seem to admire him. As much as he won’t return the affection, he welcomes the non-stop stroking of his ego. It does wonders at keeping his insecurities at bay, even if he knows that everything is superficial and surface level. They think they know him, but only a handful of people truly understand his personality.

So when Oikawa announces on the train home that he’s taking a girl out on a date, you and Iwaizumi can only passively nod, thinking that nothing will come of it. Then the second date happens, the third, the fourth, and then the stamp of the label between the two.

“I have a girlfriend now, guys!”

“Like actually? Sounds fake to me,” Iwaizumi scoffs, Oikawa taking offense.

“You wound me, Iwa-chan! What do you take me for, a heartless player?”

“Somewhat,” you jokingly supply, eyes still trained on your notes from your biology class. You don’t need to physically see him to know that he’s pouting and threatening to stick his tongue out at you. “Who’s the poor girl?” You ask, not really expecting much.

“She’s in your class, actually. Tachi Misaki?”

Your eyes stop registering any of the text that you’ve written. How did you miss that? How did you miss the fact that the girl he’d been dating was sitting only two rows away from you?

“Well,” you reply, clearing your throat. “All I can say is that you’re shooting above your level.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad, plus she’s really smart and pretty. She seems kinda low maintenance, pretty chill. Makes pretty good cookies. You think I could get her to learn how to make milk bread? But only if she has time.”

A heavy sigh leaves you as you stick a pencil between the pages and snap the notebook shut. Iwaizumi looks deep in thought before asking, “You think you’ll be able to handle her?”

“I mean, I’ve been going out on dates with her up ‘til now. She seemed fine and said she knew how busy my training schedule was. Like I said, she’s chill. Doubt she’s ever going to be super clingy or anything like that.”

By this time, you’ve all arrived at Oikawa’s house. He waves goodbye as he enters the front door, leaving Iwaizumi to walk you home.

“I give it three months, max,” you tell him. It’s mean, but you know Oikawa. He’ll be the most caring boyfriend in the beginning, but then he’ll get too comfortable, too complacent. He’ll unknowingly rely on the other person to comply with his needs rather than continuing to compromise to meet theirs. It’s only a matter of time before Misaki realizes that.

“I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt...maybe he’ll finally wake up, y’know. He’ll have an excuse to stop putting in extra practice or do something other than watching Shiratorizawa matches ‘til 2AM.”

At that, you cast a disbelieving look at him, his eyes catching yours. It isn’t long until you’re both failing to keep your laughter in. Oikawa Tooru? Ditching the opportunity for extra practice? Over his dead body.

Your estimation comes to fruition when Oikawa lightly dunks his forehead to lay on top of yours during the train ride home. The three of you had been standing near a pole, your own arm linked around it for some balance as you review and scribble some extra things into your notes from class. Oikawa is hanging on by a handle while Iwaizumi is grasping the part of the pole above your head.

“Misaki-chan broke up with me,” he spoke, loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear as well.

“Did she say why?” You ask, unable to move your head as you stare at the flap of his jacket.

“Becauseimtooobsessedwithvolleyball,” he mutters quickly.

“Say that again? And louder?” Iwaizumi teases.

Sigh. Straighten. “Because I’m too obsessed with volleyball,” he repeats a little bit louder, looking slightly ashamed and embarrassed that he, the great king of the court, the sole subject of so many girls’ affection, was ultimately dumped. The other part of the embarrassment masked the guilt he felt inside, having taken advantage of Misaki’s affections for him. Your eyes meet Iwaizumi’s, knowing that the conversation from months ago wasn’t said for naught. The sad, inevitable truth was there, and someone had to say it.

“It’s okay, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi nagged, patting the bachelor’s back. “You gotta make compromises, too.”

“But she knew! And we went on dates. That’s compromises, right?” Oikawa bemoaned, stubborn and petulant as ever. “It’s not like she wasn’t warned…”

“How many times did you guys go on a date?” You ask, attempting to get him to see reason. You know that the truth is there. He’s just fighting against full acceptance.

“Mmm, three times. No, four.”

“Three times in three months? Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath. “Okay okay, um, what’d you guys do on the dates?”

“(Y/n)-chan, are you jealous? You wanna go on a date with me?” He teases, a pointer finger poking your cheek. You squint at him before (gently) slapping the back of his head, causing him to rub the area out of mock pain.

“Ya, do you want to die?” You threaten. “I will throw you off this train if I have to.”

“Can I help?”

“Iwa-chan! Why are you on her side?? Shit, I need new friends.”

“Good riddance.”

“Stoooppp!”

From then on, Oikawa swears off girlfriends in high school. Everyone is too busy, and no one is going to understand him and be okay with what he does. Volleyball is his passion and dream, why is that so hard to get through people’s heads?

(But he knows that as much as he protests, he couldn’t give Misaki what she wanted. He wanted to make it work, he really did.)

The horde of fangirls only grows over the years. He’d rather hold a torch for no one than to try again. Nothing mattered more than a victory against Shiratorizawa and moving on to nationals. The fangirls’ affection would make up for any lack of a love life and Iwaizumi can only shake his head as a trail of hopeful hearts are left in the setter’s wake.

There are times when Oikawa is incredibly thankful for you, that at least he has some sort of close female companion that’s not his sister or mother. Even if you’re busier than ever, you still make time for him and Iwaizumi, whether it be attending their late practices or making sure that they finish their homework over the weekends. They can’t play if they’re failing classes.

(Y/n)’s personality is what he wants in a girlfriend, Oikawa realizes one night. Someone chill, someone understanding of his lifestyle, someone who goes out of their way to spend time with him. Someone he feels a connection with no matter the distance, someone he wouldn’t hesitate to go to if they needed him, someone who would always, always be there--

But he can’t possibly date you. Why risk losing you when he already has you within his grasp? There’s no need to worry about making time or planning for dates, no need to worry about coming up with a gift for White Day (as if he already doesn’t). There’s no need to worry about you leaving him now when his ugly, petty side manifests from time to time because you’ve seen it all. You would never leave him, he reaffirms to himself. You will always be by his side no matter where he is. He can always count on you to be in the bleachers during games, front and center, with the rest of the school cheer crowd. He can always count on you to lend him a shoulder, to pick up the phone at 4AM when he’s woken up anxious with thoughts going at a million a mile, to hand him two slices of milk bread on the weekends from their favorite bakery, to keep him in line with Iwaizumi.

Why risk voiding himself of all that, of so many memories, just to pursue the chance for some more intimacy?

And as Oikawa’s fingers hover over his lips, his mind reeling with flashbacks on how that kiss with you felt even two years later, the last thing he registers before succumbing to the nothingness of sleep is the painful tightening of his chest.

-

Oikawa is seventeen when he is reminded of how easy it is for him to lose you.

The three of you are sitting on a checkered blanket on top of a hill that overlooks the nearby area. A plastic bag holds a mix of canned beers and hard ciders, some empty and others waiting to be consumed. You’re taking it a little farther than you usually do, typically sipping one through the night. Yet you’re on your third and the two boys can only look at you with slight concern.

Your finals were particularly difficult -- part of you had still been recovering from the vicarious loss against Shiratorizawa, knowing how hard your two friends had taken it. It had only caused Oikawa and Iwaizumi to spend even more time in the gym after practice, a ferocity and drive in their muscles that you had never observed before. The amount of time and energy it took from you to forcibly change and drag them away from the court was substantial. Sleepless nights were dedicated to thinking of ways on how to lift them back up from whatever mental hell they created for themselves. In a sense, those nights paid off, but not without a price.

The alcohol tingles through your bloodstream and seems to slow everything down. You’re not drunk, but you don’t think you could appreciate the scenery before you as much as you are now if you were completely sober. Oikawa is going on about the constellations in the night sky, Iwaizumi teasing him relentlessly, and you can’t bother to fight the lazy smile that stretches across your face. Would you still have these nights with them if you had gone to Shiratorizawa?

“Did you know,” you softly interrupt them, unable to keep the secret any longer. It’s been two years, surely it couldn’t hurt. “Did you know...that I would’ve gone to Shiratorizawa if it hadn’t been for you two?”

The sound of cicadas has nothing on the sudden pounding of Oikawa’s heartbeat. Iwaizumi has an equally flabbergasted look on his face, searching your own as you pull up your knees and rest your chin on top of them. The lack of a verbal response only makes you chuckle, reaching down to grab your can and take another sip.

“Evidently it didn’t happen,” you drawl and then giggle. “Be-because I’m obviously at Seijou--”

“That’s not funny,” Oikawa interjects, voice hard and stern. “That’s not funny, you don’t get to say that and expect us to laugh it off. Why the fuck didn’t you tell us?”

“Why does it matter so much?” You mumble, suddenly desiring for the earth to open up and swallow you whole. “I clearly didn’t go, okay? Jesus--”

“No!” The setter yells, his face morphed by rage. “You were going to leave us? Why would that ever get into your brain, I mean, did we do something? Did we do something to push you to do something like that?”

“Hey, dude, calm down--”

“Don’t you get it, Iwa-chan? She was going to leave us and go to fucking Shiratorizawa of all places! She--”

“I thought you guys were going to accept their invite, okay?!” You interject, exasperated and frustrated. Evidently, you made a mistake in bringing this up now. “I didn’t realize how much you guys hated Ushijima’s guts and immediately changed plans once Aoba Johsai was on your agenda. So just stop, alright? It was two years ago and nothing’s gonna change.”

Oikawa pauses and attempts to reign in his anger. Why hadn’t you talked about it with them at the time? Why can’t he stop thinking about you donned in their maroon and white uniform, sitting casually in the bleachers of the gym, and instead of waiting for him and Iwaizumi, you’re waiting for Ushijima? Why can’t he stop thinking about how wrong that image looks, how much he’d like to be there and snatch you away because you’re his, you can’t abandon him--

“I’m sorry,” you apologize so mousily. Oikawa glances and sees the glisten of unshed tears, immediately relaxing and feeling guilty for being so hot-headed. It was the alcohol, for sure, he rationalizes before he turns to face you, scooching as close as possible to you. You’re still sitting in a fetal position as he slides one arm behind your waist and another wedges between your stomach and thighs. He buries his head into the crook of your neck. Your body welcomes the familiar heat and continues to relax as Iwaizumi lays his head on your shoulder. Instead of tears of sadness, you can only bask in the realization of how lucky you are two have these two doofuses in your life. The tears spill over as you sniffle, overcome with emotions that could only be so pronounced under the influence of alcohol.

“I’m so fucking lucky to have you guys,” you blubber. Oikawa’s grip tightens for a second as a tacit return of affection. “And I promised, didn’t I? I promised that I’d never leave you two, so you’re stuck with me. I wouldn’t wanna leave, even if you made me try.”

That’s right, Oikawa remembers. You promised -- and you would never go back on your word.

-

Oikawa is eighteen years old when he begins to truly understand the extent of your selflessness and how much of a selfish monster he can be when it comes to you.

It’s the night of their loss against Karasuno High, their last chance at defeating Shiratorizawa now gone and irreversible. Though tears had been shed towards his teammates, an overwhelming amount of gratitude and pride to have gone down fighting their hardest, the regret was eating at the two boys like nothing else.

Oikawa’s mother is working late -- you met them at the doorstep when they returned from the team dinner, saying nothing but holding up a bag of their favorite desserts. Minutes later, the three of you are a tangled and cuddled mess with the television quietly airing some old rerun of a child’s cartoon. It’s only when the boys’ cries have dwindled down into occasional sniffling do you dare to speak.

“I’m so proud of you two,” you begin but already feel yourself choke up again. “You did nothing but your best. I know how much this meant to you guys, but this isn’t the end. Time doesn’t stop here and you’re gonna go on to be even better players in uni. So don’t give up, okay?” You ask, hands squeezing whoever’s arm or arms you might be holding on to.

“Don’t give up when there’s so much left to fight for.”

They know you’re right. You’re always right in times like these.

Iwaizumi leaves about an hour later, eyes brighter and a small shit-eating grin on his face after about 13 brutal rounds of Uno. He won the majority of them, thankful that there was something to distract him for now. Oikawa promises to walk you home soon since it’s so late, earning a glare that could only mean “You fucking better, you shithead” and waving him off. Such a worry-wart. But when the front door clicks closed, the silence takes over once again.

Oikawa stands from the couch and stretches, gives a few twists before turning to look back at you. You’re curled up with your phone in hand, probably scrolling through social media or catching up on the news. “Hey,” he calls for you attention and holds out a hand. Don’t do this, he tells himself. “There’s something in my room that I need to return to you. Come with me?” Only delight fills his veins when you nod and set your phone down on the couch before sliding your hand into his. They stay linked as he leads you to his room, only separating when he lets go and you take refuge on this edge of his neatly-made bed.

As childish as he can be, you forget how tidy Oikawa is with his room. The books on his shelf are meticulously arranged by last name, photo frames strategically and aesthetically placed in empty spaces. His writing utensils are carefully arranged in a row on the side of his desk, and his drawer looks much of the same. Stapler, tape, sticky notes and tabs are all methodically placed, somehow speaking true to his leadership abilities.

Your observations are cut short when Oikawa sits down next to you with a book in hand, one that you had lent him months ago. To be honest, you completely forgot that he had it and you make it known to him.

“But did you like it?”

He nods with a small smile, yet his eyes are staring at the wall with a faraway look. He’s contemplating something, drawing plans in his brain, and after a couple of glances towards you, Oikawa gives in.

Much like that Friday afternoon four years ago, he leans his forehead on yours. A wave of deja-vu crashes over you as you’re once again plummeted into the dark ocean of his eyes. He keeps his gaze steady, searching for any kind of resistance. He needs something that only you can give him.

“You don’t have to say yes,” he whispers. You can feel a shiver crawl up your spine at the heaviness in his voice. “But I don’t know who else to ask. I don’t know why I can’t think of anyone but you.

“So can I please kiss you?”

What?

“But why?” You ask, the confusion so obvious in two words. Oikawa can only sigh to himself before carefully maneuvering you to straddle him, facing no objection from you. It’s just a kiss, he thinks to himself. It’s just a kiss that he wants with no strings attached to help with the emotional turmoil that only you could begin to understand. Your heartbeat feels like you’ve been swimming against the current for hours, your body betraying you as you let him bring one of your hands to his cheek. His eyes flutter closed and he languidly nuzzles into your palm, lips placing the softest, most intimate kiss there.

“I don’t know,” he breathes. Your heart aches and aches. “I swear that all I do know is that it can only be you. Please, please let me have this.”

And you can’t help but nod.

Unlike last time, Oikawa doesn’t surge forward. He instead bides his time, lips only barely ghosting over yours as he holds onto your waist. The contact becomes progressively fuller, more purposeful, as he completely slants his mouth over yours. In response, your fingers tangle themselves in the strands at the base of his neck and he finds himself drawing you closer to him, arms now completely wound around your waist.

This is a sin, he has to remind himself. This is a sin that only benefits him -- he is taking, he is stealing, he is feeding on an elixir at the cost of your soul. But his desires only overpower his guilt because as devilish as he may be, the sin feels like heaven. A paradise made by you created solely for him.

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth before gently sucking, eliciting the most delicate moan from your throat. The sound only flips a switch in his head as he applies more pressure, desperate to hear it again. Mine, he thinks as he begins to litter kisses down your neck, teeth catching skin to leave marks on you. Mine, he screams to himself as his hands peek under the edge of your shirt, skin on skin.

“Tooru--” you pant, trying to lean back and gather your thoughts. This is too much to handle. If you’re not careful, you’ll unlock the only thing that you swore you’d take to your grave, the three words that could ruin everything.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps before diving in for another quick kiss. “I’m not asking for sex. I just need you,” he confesses, pecks littered between his words. Oh, how you wish this were under different circumstances. How you wish that you could utter those three words without a care in the world and know that they’ll be reciprocated. Your lips meet his again and it feels like the earth has stopped on its axis.

Both of you are unaware of the amount of time that passes. Fervent kisses slowly diminish to a languid pace until it comes to a complete stop. Oikawa can only lean his forehead against yours, eyes hooded and chest heaving with you in a similar state. Neither of you have enough energy to find the right words. His arms only draw you into his chest and he can’t help but marvel at how perfect of a fit you are for him.

“I should probably head home,” you whisper. Being the man-child that he is, he shakes his head vehemently and momentarily refuses to let you escape his embrace.

“Do you have to?” He tiredly grumbles, reluctantly loosening his grip with a sigh as you slide off his lap. You nod and bend forward to give him one last kiss, the separation causing him to whine. You make your way towards his body-length mirror, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles and fix your hair. Oikawa hugs you from behind, his limbs wrapping around your shoulders.

“We’re okay, right?”

You nod. Don’t we have to be?

-

And that’s when Oikawa Tooru begins to slip through your fingers.

It’s a combined effort, really. Everybody’s trying to wrap things up, all the big competitions are jam packed into the last remaining weekends, and making room for last-minute college entrance exams. If people weren’t already at their wit’s end, then you can barely fathom the amount of anxiety and stress coursing through the halls of the school.

You use this to your advantage, finding yourself unable to go home with the boys, unable to visit them on the weekends, unable to respond to text messages frequently. You begin to learn to look past Oikawa rather than at him, not bothering to spare a second glance when he’s caught in the hallways by a group of infatuated admirers. You fail to see the way his eyes follow your passing figure or how he slows his pace when walking by your classroom, hoping to get a glimpse of you. You fail to see the disappointment on his face when your spot in the bleachers is empty. So he falters, redirects, and lets the distance increase.

The only time you reconvene with the two is after the graduation ceremony. Your mother would kill you if you left without a picture of you and your best friends, and clearly their mothers are thinking the same thing. Outside in the courtyard, the women spot each other, your mother almost dragging you behind her. They’re trying to find their respective sons, though it doesn’t take long because the sudden clambering and screaming of girls can only serve a few purposes. Oikawa and Iwaizumi are craning their heads before they’re able to finally spot the frantic waving from their mothers.

Soon, they’re in front of you, both individually giving a hug. “Congratulations,” you tell them with as much happiness as possible. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see them -- you’re all attending the same university. They thank you and return the festivities. It’s hard to miss how your hug with Oikawa lasts a little bit longer than normal, even more so when his hands trail down your arms before slyly slipping a small object into your hand. As you unfurl your fist, a shiny circular object is gleaning back at you. You spot a stray thread from his jacket and it hits you -- the devilish fox has given you his second button. You’d like to pretend to be unaffected, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“And if I don’t accept?” You challenge. For a second, Oikawa is genuinely taken aback. It’s obvious he didn’t expect you to consider rejecting the button and stumbles over his attempts to come up with a comeback. When he spots you fighting to contain your laughter, his embarrassment only pushes him to lightly shove your shoulder.

“For being my best female friend,” he elaborates. You deserve an award for containing the pain and bearing through it, pretending that his words don’t faze you in any ways. Iwaizumi only shakes his head at his friend’s idiocy -- what is he thinking?

“Oh I’m sorry,” you apologize in a mocking tone, pretending to bow. “Should I be groveling at your feet now like the other girls back there? Oh great king?”

“Why yes, I am indeed the great king--”

Smack. “You’re such an idiot,” Iwaizumi reprimands. The recipient of the hit pretends to bawl, resuming his childish antics once again.

That’s how high school ends, with two aching hearts and three families of laughter, all making way for the start of university.

-

Oikawa somehow makes it possible to balance his love life, volleyball, and his business major. Both he and Iwaizumi blend in nicely with the university team as your words from before ring in their brains. They could and are becoming better players -- high school suddenly seems so casual compared to the stakes at the university level. Teammates are constantly being scouted and the two begin to strive for the national team. Despite the fact that they barely see you anymore, Oikawa still dreams of his ideal future: he and Iwaizumi playing for Japan in Tokyo, with you having a job there and supporting them in the stands.

Sometimes he’s able to spot you on campus -- the building for the pharmacy program that you’re enrolled in is relatively far from the business building. Most times you’re walking with your classmates, giggling at something or engaged in a heated discussion. He thinks about how beautiful you look in your white coat with your hair tied back, your face donned with some makeup for the natural look and a pair of dainty earrings. Part of him boils in jealousy whenever there’s a male acting particularly close with you, but he knows he has no right to think that way. The thoughts only fuel him during volleyball practice, which seems to satisfy his coach.

It’s easy for him to like someone, he figures out two years in. It’s easy for him to get to know someone and pick up on their quirks. As a social butterfly, it’s not difficult for him to get along with his partner, but when it comes to developing deeper feelings...it just doesn’t happen. He wants so badly to reciprocate, especially considering how much effort some of his past partners have put in. But something stops him every time -- unwillingly, he’s become a master at letting people down easy, that he’s truly sorry he can’t reciprocate their love. On the other hand, Iwaizumi is pretty successful in his current relationship, going strong for the last year and a half. Oikawa seeks his advice at the club one night, keeping an eye out to see if there’s anyone he'd be willing to take home (not that he ever does).

At this point, Iwaizumi wonders how he’s still friends with him. Yes, he’s fiercely loyal and has been by Oikawa’s side since the beginning, but if the guy was going to do nothing but continue his descent into idiocy, there was very little he could do for him. (Y/n) had the same problem as Oikawa except you figured it out much, much faster.

“You idiot, you’re in love with another person.”

“...say what now?”

“That’s all it is. You’re in love with someone else. That’s why you feel like you can’t say it back when a different person tells you they love you.”

“If I was in love with someone else, wouldn’t I know?”

Yeah. Oikawa Tooru is a big, bumbling, messy pile of denial.

“You know what,” Iwaizumi sighs, setting his drink down before paying the tab. “You’re right. You’re in love with yourself.” Oikawa knows that he’s joking. Nothing could be farther from the truth -- he’s always dedicated himself to the happiness of others. That’s the role of him as a setter and captain: to bring out the best of his teammates’ abilities, but he can only do that if he’s at his best as well. His eyes cast another look into the dancing crowd. He downs his drink as someone catches his attention, also moving to pay his tab.

“Tell your girlfriend I said hi!”

Iwaizumi only gives him a lazy wave as he makes his way to the entrance. Oikawa is sliding his way onto the dance floor and when Iwaizumi spots who he’s wormed next to, he hopes that one day, Oikawa will really open his eyes.

Because he’s always going for girls who look wildly similar to you.

-

It’s hard to have an undefeated season. Some losses are harder than others and during the first two years, you, sweet, sweet (y/n), always managed to find him.

He needed you most on those rare days. Even after weeks of limited texting and quick passings on campus, there was a level of comfort that solely existed by being with you. He would attempt to joke and tease with you to put up a facade, but when you would lead him to his couch and leave your arms open, the veil would drop as he cried into your shoulder. He would then pick up his terrible, terrible habit of giving into sin (as long as he wasn’t dating anyone), selfishly knowing that you would never say no. He’ll ask you if this is okay, and you always say yes. The two of you never cross the line of anything more than making out, yet the kisses become less lust-ridden and more tender over time, laced with something much more meaningful.

(And with each time, it becomes harder and harder to refrain yourself from confessing.)

Oikawa reveled in being able to sigh against your lips, stealing your breaths from your lungs and even convincing you to stay the night. There were mornings when he truly felt that there was nothing better than waking up with his arm around your waist. He could squeeze you to his chest and wish for this all day. Sometimes, you woke up earlier than him and silently admired how peaceful he looked compared to the haggardness just hours before. With his hair so delicately splayed across his forehead, the ends curling up to defy gravity, a tiny scar dusting his right cheek, you would be painfully reminded of just how much you love him.

The last time you woke up next to him, you thought to yourself, “I can’t do this anymore.”

In the beginning of the third year, you fight every cell in your body to not go to him. Instead, you call him up and ask how he’s doing -- he doesn’t question it, doesn’t demand that you come see him. If there’s something preventing you from visiting him, he won’t ask about it. Even only a call brings him the warmth that he usually craved from you, though he knows nothing can satisfy him like your physical presence. The routine continues, volleyball practice becomes longer, and Oikawa thinks he’s finally getting used to this. This is the farthest you’ll distance yourself from him. There’s no way that you’d ever be more than a train ride away.

“are you guys free for coffee this weekend?” The text reads in the group chat. (Y/n) knows they don’t have a game, one of the rare breaks they get. Oikawa and Iwaizumi have the same schedules, so when Iwaizumi texts back “yh, where at?”, it’s for both of them.

“our favorite cafe restaurant by the bookstore okay? 1pm? my treat?”

“sounds good. see you then.”

“see you guys xx”

They think nothing of it -- it’s just a rare moment that everyone is free and able to catch up. Both dress up in their best casual streetwear, Oikawa even donning the glasses that you like so much. He’s nearly buzzing with excitement at finally being able to talk with you and have you within arm’s distance. Everything is normal when they walk into the cafe, spotting you in the corner booth. You’re quick to match their grins and give them both hugs, watching in delight as their eyes take in the milk bread, agedashi tofu, and a few other shareable dishes. They’re starting to think this is a bit of an apology meal for not having seen them in forever. It’s nice that whenever the three of you are together, there’s no awkwardness and everything seems to be back to normal.

Like how it’s supposed to be. But all good things must come to an end, right?

“It’s so nice being here with you two,” you laugh as you lean back against the vinyl leather. “I’m glad we could do this.”

“We need to do this more often,” Iwaizumi agrees. “We don’t have as many classes since we’re juniors now. Practice is still always the same so we should have more time to meet up. What about you?”

“Same here. Actually,” you pause, hesitant and scrambling for words. You’ve even rehearsed what you’re about to tell them, yet everything has been forgotten.

“I’m...I’m applying to doctoral programs in America.”

The boys look like two deer caught in the headlights. Oikawa is immediately filled with a sense of dread and fear -- his worst nightmare is slowly transforming into reality, unearthing its ugly head. A train ride is one thing, but a 13 hour plane ride? Time differences? A whole different country on the other side of the world?

“That’s...wow. That’s um,” Iwaizumi clears his throat. “That’s a big move. Why did you decide on America? I thought you wanted to start working after?”

“I’m enjoying pharmaceutical research more than I ever thought I would. We just actually got back from an international conference a few weeks ago -- there were so many interesting topics and studies being done. And...I thought it’d be nice to travel somewhere, you know. Have a change of pace.”

And you’re not completely lying. You’ve never really been outside of Japan before. Part of you wants to travel and see more of the world, especially after the conference in Berlin. Famous structures and streets that had been mere images on your computer or phone screen were suddenly physically before your eyes. You wanted to gain a better grasp of what it could offer and what you’ve been missing out on.

The other part of you felt stuck here. You needed an excuse to end the never-ending cycle that was Oikawa. It was an infinite loop of running to him, falling into his arms, attempting to put an obstacle on the bridge between you two, but then crossing over it to fall back into his arms again. You were never close to being free of him, not that you wanted to, but you wanted to know who you could be almost nearly without him. You wouldn’t be you if you were completely void of Oikawa Tooru. He would always have a part of your heart and be a part of your soul, no matter what.

“When would you leave?” Oikawa timidly asks, his gaze directed towards the crumbs on his plate.

“I’m actually on track to graduate by the end of this academic year. If I find a research group that wants me and is willing to provide me with adequate funding...I’d probably leave pretty soon after graduation. Y’know, get settled, meet my group, and...yeah.”

Silence ensues as the two boys figure out what to say. Your leg is bouncing restlessly beneath the table, fingers quietly tapping the side of your cup. Iwaizumi seems to be taking it pretty well, but Oikawa...you can’t tell.

All emotion is wiped from his face. He’s choosing to pierce holes in the wall by your head and his arms are crossed in front of his chest. He’s trying so hard to be mature about this and be happy for you, yet all he can register is the fact that you’re leaving. You’re leaving them, you’re leaving him, you’ll be gone forever and you’ll never come back, you’re going to find new friends, a new partner, a new bed that belongs to someone else to fall asleep in, oh how wretched--

“We’re gonna miss you,” Oikawa says, voice barely any louder than the tranquil music playing over the speakers. You feel like you’ve been transported back to when you were ten and breaking the news of quitting volleyball, hearing the same four words spoken in a very similar manner. Your heart settles and softens, you relax and reach over the table to grab one of their hands in each of yours. Iwaizumi doesn’t hesitate to give a friendly squeeze while Oikawa’s grip is only limp at best. But after a few seconds, it tightens and tightens until you understand the message: please don’t go.

“We’ve spent our whole lives together. I’ve told you two this before and I’ll say it again -- I’m so lucky that I have you guys. Part of me is able to do this because I know you’ve always got my back and I know that’s not going to change, even when I’m halfway across the world. So keep in touch? Please?”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi reaffirms and Oikawa nods. You express your thanks and retract your hands, trying to ignore the way that Oikawa’s fingers linger for as long as they can without being too obvious. The three of you eventually leave, bidding goodbye to your waitress and cashier, and continue to amble down the streets. Time always flies when you’re with them, conversation never truly ending. Eventually Iwaizumi has to leave to meet his girlfriend for dinner and Oikawa, being the gentleman that he always is, ensures that he’ll bring you home safe and sound. As the two of you wave goodbye and watch him disappear into the crowd, Oikawa offers his arm to you. He sees the pleasant surprise on your face and can’t help the smile on his own as you wrap your hand around the crook of his elbow.

The two of you continue to chat -- you fill him in on all the little details of your life that he had missed. In return, he does the same, eliciting so many different emotions from you. The pain in your heart increases when you realize just exactly how far away you’ve been from him. You choose to ignore that he’s taking the long way to your apartment, relishing in this rare time you have with him. Oikawa is the only person to make you feel like there truly wasn’t enough time in the world to spend with the one you love.

This must be what it’s like to date you, he realizes. Your hand is still wrapped around his arm, even when the limb became tired and settled for tucking his hand into his jacket pockets. He drinks in every laugh, every scoff, every grin, every gasp of surprise. Very few things bring him greater satisfaction than the way your eyes sparkle when he buys one of your favorite snacks off a food cart or when he points out something that reminds him of you. He never wants you to let go -- all he wants now is to collapse into your bed and wake up with his arm around your waist once again.

Before he knows it, they’re in front of your door, fiddling with your keys. He leans against the wall by your door as you locate the right one, but you hesitate.

“This was really fun. Thanks for basically spending your whole day with me.”

“I wouldn’t trade it for the world,” he replies, unable to stop the words from flowing out of his mouth. “It’s been a while since we’ve hung out like this.”

“Yeah, it has been.”

Silence.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks with eyes full of hope. You’d have to be blind to not notice them, yet you would still be able to tell by the tone of his voice.

“Of course,” you reply with a small smile. “Until you get sick of me.”

Oikawa scoffs, but puts on a sincere face as he quips back, “Never.”

In all the years that you’ve been friends with him, nothing has ever sent blood rushing to your cheeks so fast. Your heartbeat quickens at an alarming rate and it doesn’t help as he begins to lean down, getting closer and closer to your face.

At the last second, he dips his head to the right and places a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek. Before you can blink twice, he’s already walking backwards with the cheekiest grin on his face, a cute little wave towards you. He then turns on his heels and makes his way to the elevator with a bit of a skip in his step.

You don’t even remember unlocking your door and toeing off your shoes. Your entire body feels like lead, yet also buzzing with excitement. And as you’re collapsed on your bed, staring at the ceiling, all your brain can comprehend and tell you is that Oikawa Tooru is truly the bane of your existence.

-

Oikawa does his best to stay true to his word.

Even with fewer classes, there’s always something that he needs to finish: that project, this homework assignment, extra practice -- sometimes, he wishes he hadn’t been in uni. Or at least picked a different major. When he can, he tries to visit you on nights, sometimes sheepishly empty-handed, other times holding a bag of your favorite pastries. “Are you trying to fatten me up?” You joke one night before biting into your favorite flavor of macaron. “More to hold and hug,” he teases back, causing you to give him a light whack on his arm.

He’s there when you nervously submit all your applications. He’s there when you receive offers to interview. He’s there when you get your first official acceptance. And of course, he’s there when you make your final decision. There’s no hesitation when you jump into his arms after submitting your confirmation of acceptance to University of California – San Francisco, though he wishes you could be there forever. Weeks begin to roll by, much quicker than he’d like. The usual cheery and joyful chattiness of when he usually visits evolves into comfortable silence, both of you settling for watching some space documentary on Netflix most nights. Oikawa hates how the inevitable is slowly creeping up his spine and more often than not, he’s torn between wanting to either just rip the Bandaid off or try to stop time.

The approaching reality of you physically leaving him starts to take its true form when you ask him to tag along on the hunt for suitcases. You want to get at least one of those large suitcases that have to be checked in to try to bring as much stuff as possible. The whole time, Oikawa is half numb, though he tries his best to give his honest opinions on the suitcases you consider. He knows what a big step this is as he watches you eagerly pay for your final selection. However, nothing hits him harder than when he comes into your apartment a week before your graduation and there’s a wide array of empty, mismatched cardboard boxes in every room.

To drive the stake in even further, the recently purchased suitcase lies wide open in your bedroom with some stray objects already neatly tucked in. Yet the one that catches his eye is a picture frame placed in a bubble wrap sleeve. It holds the physical memory of you, him, and Iwaizumi at your high school graduation, each person with their own bouquet of congratulatory flowers. There’s a reason you have this specific shot framed out of all the ones between the parents combined; reason being the fact that Oikawa isn’t looking at the camera lens, but rather looking at you.

His eyes glinted with pride and care in that picture, a certain softness in his posture. The picture has always sat demurely in a back corner of your desk. However, some friends or recent classmates that have been in your room have taken note of it, excitedly asking you, “Is this your boyfriend??” It’s more painful when you have to tell them he’s not, only just a very close childhood friend. A very close childhood friend that you’ve kissed multiple times and will always give your heart to, but you leave that part unsaid. .  

Oikawa spends the night with you, taking much longer than usual to fall asleep. You’ve already passed out next to him, mouth slightly agape and hands curled up near your face. Quietly, he adjusts his weight onto his elbow, leaning his cheek into his hand. His other hand gently tucks the strands of hair that have fallen over your face behind your ear. To him, you look nothing short of angelic. He hates that he’s only able to spend time like this with you as the clock is ticking -- he wishes that he made more of an effort to meet and see you during your first two years. Perhaps he wouldn’t feel so anxious at the thought of you leaving. Perhaps the two of you would’ve established something that would guarantee your return.

At this thought, Iwaizumi’s words ring in his head.

You’re in love with someone else, that’s why you feel like you can’t say it back when a different person tells you they love you.

They continue to ring as he finally falls asleep. They ring as he only wakes up hours later, settling on trying to quickly whip up breakfast for you. They’re loudest when you quietly pad up to him and rest your chin over his shoulder, nearly scaring the shit out of him. Even then, his body can’t help but relax from the feeling of your body pressed against his back.

Even as he prepares for his finals, you’re in love with someone else.

Even in the midst of presenting a final project for class, you’re in love with someone else.

All the way up until he’s parked in a seat, arms cradling a bouquet of your favorite flowers, tucked between Iwaizumi and your mother at your graduation ceremony, you’re in love with someone else.

And when he’s cheering his loudest for you as you cross the stage, pausing to shake the university’s president’s hand and receive your diploma, his heart finally settles on the unshakeable truth that he probably knew all along.

I’m so fucking in love with (y/n).

“I’m so fucked,” he mutters to himself, but not quiet enough because Iwaizumi catches it.

“What’d you do, shithead?” He leans in to ask so your mother doesn’t hear. Oikawa only shakes his head, his leg subconsciously beginning to bounce anxiously. Iwaizumi takes a look at the leg, then a look at his face, and when he catches how Oikawa’s eyes follow you happily ambling off the stage, the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. After years and years of living in pure oblivion, Oikawa has finally understood just how much he loves you.

“God, you have such shit timing, you dickhead,” Iwaizumi groans, fingers pinching and massaging the bridge of his nose.

“What did he do?” His girlfriend on his other side asks. He leans over to briefly kiss her cheek, murmuring a “I’ll tell you later,” in her ear before turning back to his best friend.

Oikawa feels like a nervous schoolboy with the way his face is construed, his hands grasping the flower stems like it’s his lifeline. He begins to think about how he should confess to you – should it be during a candlelit dinner? On the roof of your apartment under the stars? Should he take you to a park or by the beach? A million more scenarios run through his head as the rest of the graduation ceremony proceeds. He stands in a daze as the students begin to file out, the families in the stands soon following suit. His body stiffly stands to follow your family and creaks like a rusty robot, absolutely unprepared to face you with his new revelation. The only thing that brings him out of his head is when Iwaizumi yanks him back by the collar of his shirt, practically choking him in the process. His throat coughs and fights for oxygen as he rubs at his neck, watching your mother disappear into the crows before turning to Iwaizumi with a pitiful and defeated look.

“What the hell was that for, Iwa-chan? Why—”

“You are not telling her right now, you hear me?” Iwaizumi threatens in a hushed voice.

“But—”

“She’s leaving. In a week. To America. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Can’t that be for her to decide? She can turn me down, but I need to tell her!” Oikawa cries out as the three of them do their best to stay out of other people’s way, pressing themselves to their seats as much as possible. People are casting them either curious or nasty looks for being obstacles in an increasingly heated argument, but they could also care less.

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes at him, then stabs a finger to his chest. “What you want, what you need…it’s always been that way for you when it comes to her. Have you ever stopped to consider what she wants?”

“Of course I have, what do you take me for?!”

“What do I take you for?! I take you for an idiot who spent years taking advantage of her!” Iwaizumi drives his point by jabbing the finger on his chest again. “I take you for an idiot who knew that she could never say no to you and you still used her whenever it was convenient! You think you’ve been such a martyr—”  

“I didn’t do that! I—”

“Then prove it,” Iwaizumi hisses. “Prove to us that you genuinely care about what she needs. You know what she needs right now? She needs us, her friends, to go out there, find her, and congratulate her with flowers. Then, we’re gonna go to our favorite place with her family and celebrate her. Today’s about her and her achievements. We’re gonna be happy for her because that’s what she needs today. That’s what she deserves.”

Most of the crowd have trickled towards the lobby by now, leaving the three of them with a few student workers running around to pick up trash and stray programs in preparation for the next ceremony. Iwaizumi sighs, seeking comfort in the way that his girlfriend slides her hand into his. Everything that he had been holding in is now out in the open.

“You think you can do that, Tooru?” He asks in a calmer voice.

“…yeah.”

Oikawa tries his best to keep his feelings at bay. They threaten to spill when your eyes drink in the bouquet he’s brought for you, a pure smile of delight as you lean in to catch a whiff of your favorite flowers. It’s even harder when you give him a friendly peck on the cheek, quickly moving to give Iwaizumi and his girlfriend hugs. He can’t stop sneaking glances your way during lunch, watching how happy you seem to be as you verbally recall the last three years. His mind does its best to stay involved in the conversation, yet it doesn’t cease to drift towards Iwaizumi’s words. It’s heart-wrenching because everything he said was true – he had knowingly taken advantage of your lack of resistance, had knowingly acknowledged that he was committing a certain sin in life, driven by greed and desire. He knew years ago that he could never get enough of you and would never be able to.

“…your plans after this?” He hears your mother ask you, her voice reminding him to be an active participant in this chat.

“I kind of just want to go home and get out of this dress, probably start up my packing again. I had to put that on hold with finals and everything.”

“We can come help you if you want.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I might even take a nap first.”

“You can take a nap while I help you pack,” Oikawa interjects without a thought. He just wants more time with you. You look skeptical and he puts on an affronted expression. “I’m a really neat and organized packer, thank you very much. You think I’m some poor slob who can’t properly fold a shirt?”

“It’s exactly what I think.”

“Hey, don’t be so mean! I’ll prove it.”

“Fine,” you say with a smirk widening. “But I’m kicking you out if it isn’t up to my standards.”

“Yes ma’am!” He replies like a soldier, comically saluting with two fingers. Iwaizumi shoots him his best warning glare as the table resumes chatting.

About an hour later, the two of you are walking side-by-side in the direction of your apartment. The pace is slow with your heels on, especially as they become more and more painful. Eventually, you let out a big huff and stop in your path to slip off your heels, picking them up by the straps and letting them hang off your fingers. Your gown, stole, and chords are draped over your other arm, the other hand holding onto the cap and flowers. Oikawa watches as you sigh happily and wiggle your toes before you continue the trek barefoot. He’s terrified that you’ll get a staph infection and stops you.

Without saying anything, he takes the graduation gown from your arm and fits it over you, thankful that the bottom of it nearly reaches your ankles. Your arms have a mind of their own as they slip into the sleeves. He crouches for bit and fiddles a little bit before pulling your zipper up, then takes your cap and fits it onto your head. Before you can question his actions, he sweeps around to lift you up in his arms bridal style, causing you to yelp at the sudden motion. One of your arms is already swung around his neck, the other just trying to make sure your heels, chords, and stole don’t drop. Oikawa adjusts his grip a little, then looks down at you.

“You okay?”

You’re incredibly flustered, saying nothing but giving a few nods. He gently smiles before bringing you closer to his chest. Eventually, you place everything into your lap, leaving your other arm free to lie over the flowers on your stomach. You have an internal battle with yourself on whether you should link your free limb around his neck or not – do you want to come off as clingy? Would Oikawa mind? Would it make him uncomfortable? You soon decide, fuck it. You just graduated, you deserve to be pampered a little bit, even if it means treating yourself to indulging in one of your longtime fantasies with the man you secretly love.

Even though your face is already pretty close to his, by wrapping both arms around him, you’re practically nuzzling into the side of his neck. He smells faintly of the cologne that you gifted him last year for his birthday. It brings you fond memories of your life with him so far, how even through all the pain of unrequited love, every second has been absolutely worth it.

“Thank you,” you murmur and tighten your grasp. “For everything. For being my best friend, for always being there for me.”

“You don’t need to thank me, silly,” he replies affectionately. “You know we love you, right?”

“I know. I just wanted to make sure that you knew how much I appreciate it, that’s all.”

“…I’m so proud of you, (y/n). Look at you, finishing in 3 years and going to California for your PhD. Maybe I should’ve tried harder to convince you to stay in Japan, but I know you wouldn’t have been as happy. Is it too late to still try to persuade you?”

You unwind an arm to smack his chest lightly, playfully scolding him as you fully hold onto him again.

“Don’t even think about it. Of course it’s too late.”

“Well, then there’s no harm in still trying, right?”

“Tooru!”

“Okay, okay, fine~.”

-

Once you’re home, you grab random articles of clothing from your closet before heading into the bathroom to change. Oikawa offers to find a vase for the bouquet during this time, your ears hearing the clinking of glass and the snipping of stems. You didn’t realize you had grabbed Oikawa’s spare jersey he had given you the summer before your first year of university, only noticing after you begin to fit it over your head. The flush in your cheeks is subtle as you slip on a pair of pajama shorts, a giddy feeling filling your chest.

When you step out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen, Oikawa’s back is facing you as he continues to arrange the flowers. Something about the scene feels comfortably domestic, as if Oikawa just returned home from work and decided to surprise you with a little gift, insisting that he put it together for you. You’re almost expecting him to give you a kiss on the cheek before saying, “I’m home, dear.”

In the midst of your thoughts, Oikawa is satisfied with his work, grabbing the vase and turning with the intent to let you see his work. He startles when he sees you leaning against the wall and staring at him, yet his heart fails to calm once he realizes you’re in his jersey. Part of you suddenly feels shy with the way he can’t stop admiring you, yet another part is filled with newfound confidence. Your feet softly pad towards him, relishing in the fact that you can render the great Oikawa Tooru speechless. He lets you take the vase from him, still frozen in his spot as you gently place a kiss on the corner of his lips. If he were more composed and more cognizant of his actions, he would have taken you up in his arms and kissed you for real. You take the vase from his fingers and place it on your dining table, appreciating the delicate hue of the petals. It’s a shame that you’ll have to get rid of them soon since you’re leaving in a week.

“Come on, Tooru. Time for you to show me how good your shirt-folding skills are!”

Progress in packing is slow as the two of you talk and laugh, the sound of The Good Place quietly playing on Netflix from the small TV in your room softly filling the room. Eventually, Oikawa refuses any of your help, practically ordering you to stay in your bed and leave it to him. In the familiar warmth of your comforter, you fight to stay awake as exhaustion from the morning events creeps through your body. Before long, you’re taking a last look at Oikawa’s side profile sitting on your floor next to a pile of unfolded clothes and falling asleep soon after. It takes a few minutes for him to realize that you haven’t said anything in a while, only chuckling to himself when he sees you slipped away to the dreamworld.

For the next hour or so, he folds and packs your clothes in silence. The pile dwindles and shrinks until there’s none left, though there’s still some in your closet that you’ll be wearing over the next week. You’re still asleep on your side – he can’t find it in himself to wake you, instead doing his best to climb over you and sit on the empty side of the bed without jostling you. Just as he finds a comfortable half-lying, half-sitting position against a pillow and the headboard, you unconsciously do a full 180-degree turn and snuggle closer to him. One of your legs twists around his, your arm slinging over his waist.

Oikawa’s heart almost wants to fly out of his chest. Had it really been over a little more than a year since you last slept next to him? Was this going to be the last time that he’d experience this?

Was this going to be his last chance?

He must’ve nodded off in the end. Your voice speaks to him in his subconscious, softly calling out his name. His body is curled up on the side where you were sleeping, arms stretched out as he finally wills his eyes to open. His vision is blurry and heavily veiled with sleep, needing a few blinks to register that you’re bent over with your face very close to his. He wants to be wakened like this every day, to the sound of your voice rather than an obnoxious alarm tone from his phone. With all the strength he can muster, his arm reaches out to grab one of your wrists and gingerly pulls you towards him. You giggle as you snuggle into the little space you have, his arms hugging you tightly to ensure you don’t fall over the edge.

“Five more minutes,” he pleads, nuzzling into your hair. “Or we can go back to sleep, I don’t mind…”

“Tooru, we need to eat dinner though.”

“But I have you,” he mumbles without thought, clearly saying whatever first comes to his mind.

“That doesn’t make any sense though.”

“It makes all the sense in the world, silly (y/n)…come on, let’s sleep some more…”

“Even if there’s fresh omurice waiting to be eaten?”

“Mmm…did you make it?”

“Yes, I did.”

Oikawa sighs again before moving his hand from your back to rub his eyes. “Well, we can’t let your hard work go to waste then, right?”

“Not at all.”

You disentangle yourself and ignore how your body aches to lay with him again. Your hands take one of his own in your grasp, pulling him from the bed and towards the dining table where a fresh plate of omurice awaits them. Oikawa doesn’t forget his manners, pulling out a chair and indicating for you to sit in it. Like a true gentleman, he’s cognizant of how he pushes the chair back in to meet your sitting position, ensuring that you’re comfortable before moving to his own seat. The two of you say your thanks quickly before digging in.

Dinner is a quiet ordeal besides the occasional laughter. He tries to play footsies with you underneath the table, having full advantage with his longer legs. You threaten to flick rice at him if he keeps at it, but as time passes by, it’s clear your words hold no weight. Light banter continues when you bring the plates to the sink, refusing any offers of help from him. He settles for having an arm around your shoulders, leaning some of his body weight onto you. His eyes watch you with love and fascination as he berates himself for not figuring it out earlier. Things would have been different, and life would have been much better.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he murmurs, tone solemn and heavy as you begin to dry off the dishes.

“I know. But I’ll be back in a few years, you know?”

“A few years sounds like forever though.”

“It’ll be over before you know it, Tooru.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

He’s still searching for words when you’ve put the last plate in the drying rack, folding the towel neatly on the counter. You turn to face him directly, causing his arm to slide off your shoulders. He delicately grasps your hands with his and plays with your fingers, eyes focused on them and unable to meet your own. Iwaizumi’s warning voice blares through his head – why, why did he always have to be so selfish when it comes to you? Why did he always give in?

“Tooru, what—”

“I love you, (y/n).”

He’s gone and done it now. His eyes are ablaze with passion as they attempt to convey the depth of his feelings, boring straight into your own shocked gaze. He means it more than anything right now. You have to understand that he’s serious, that he doesn’t mean this in a platonic sense. Without a doubt, he would do anything for you. Could you see that in him?

He begins to panic when you slowly detach your hands, your expression hardening before you turn to occupy yourself with something else. You search for something before heading towards your living room and start packing the decorations into a cardboard box that’s cradled against your hip.

“(Y/n), please—”

“You don’t mean it,” you bite out and somewhat harshly smack a book into the box. “You’re only saying it because—”

“I’m not saying it just because you’re leaving, I swear,” he vows, following you as you pack away more things. “Just look at me—”

“How could you?!” You say accusingly, slamming your box onto the floor and whipping around to look at him. Oikawa isn’t entirely surprised by the tears streaming down your face, yet his heart still breaks at the sight.

“(Y/n), I—”

“What were you expecting?” You ask hoarsely, throat choked with tears. “Did you expect me to just accept it and run into your arms?! We’re going to be on opposite sides of the world for at least four years, and you wanted to start something with me a week before I leave?”

“I can’t lose you!” Oikawa cries out. He watches you collapse into your couch, head buried in your hands to control your sobs. He follows and sits as close as possible in front of you on the floor, reaching up to remove your hands from your face. “I can’t lose you more than I already have,” he whispers dismally, thumbs wiping tears from your cheeks. Out of fatigue, he places his cheek on your knees, eyes closing as you lay your hand on top of his head.

“Tooru, you—”

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he interrupts, striving to get you to see how much this is for him. “I never knew what it was until recently, but you have to know by now that I would do anything for you. You can call me up at 4 in the morning, ask me for my umbrella even when I’m 20 minutes away. You could even ask me to drop volleyball, and I’d do it. Just to make you happy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you depressingly chastise as your fingers give in and demurely run through his hair. “I would never ask you to give up volleyball, and even if I did, you’d resent me til the day we die. Hell, you’d resent me in your grave for all I know.”

“You’d still be my everything.”

At his words, you choke out another sob. This had been everything you were dreaming of, except Oikawa’s timing was just so off. You would have to spend the first four years of your relationship without him, and long distance wouldn’t be easy. Even though he would do everything to make it work, you’d worry about burdening him when he has so much he wants to live for. Wouldn’t it affect his playing? His studies? Would he eventually get tired of waiting for you and leave?

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” You sniffle.

“The chance of a lifetime, that’s what I’m getting into,” he quickly replies. He turns to rest his chin where his cheek originally on, facing you with eyes of zero hesitation. His expression softens when he senses the doubt in your face and reaches up to remove your hands from his hair, grasping them softly and placing them on your thighs. “I’ve already wasted years not being with you, and I don’t intend to lose another second. So please, please give me this chance.”

Your head is dizzy with all this information. You need time, you need clarity. You need to think this out before diving in, no matter how much you want to comply right now.

“Let me think about it, ok?” You weakly propose. “This has happened all so fast and I just need some time to think it over. This is really big for us, and I just wanna make sure we’re doing the right thing.”

“I’ll wait forever if I have to,” he agrees, then ghosting his lips over your knuckles.

“You can’t see me until we’re at the airport though,” you add in, causing him to whine in objection. “I’ll give you my answer then. It’s just a week.”

“Can I still call you?”

“Of course, you big wuss,” you tease.

“Hey, I just confessed my feelings here, cut me some slack!” He cries, pouting afterwards. You somehow still have the energy to giggle at his antics, happy that some things never change.

“You need to leave soon, Tooru.”

“No,” he objects and wraps his arms around your legs. “I don’t wanna.”

“Tooru—”

“Only if you kiss me before I leave.”

You let out a sigh, yet still smiling. “Deal.”

He removes himself and gets out of the way, stretching as he stands when you push yourself off the couch. Even for the short distance from the living room to the door, Oikawa insists on holding your hand. He grabs every second he can with you, still holding on when he’s slipping his shoes on.

“I’m waiting for my kiss,” he says with a lilt in his voice. His eyes are shining and expectant, causing you to roll your own playfully. For the first time in 21 years, you’ll be kissing Oikawa with no feelings hidden, no motives unsaid.

He meets you halfway, softly cradling your cheek with his free hand. His lips against yours bring a wave of nostalgia – god, how you both missed this, the feeling of being able to lose yourself in another person. How you both missed forming that bubble again where nothing mattered but the two of you being there together. You can’t help but think about how much you’re going to miss this in America, how it’ll be months, years, before you can ever fall into Oikawa’s arms again.

Oikawa wants nothing more than to toe his shoes off and have you jump into his arms. He wants nothing more than to carry you to your room and show exactly how much he loves you, but it’s not in your wishes. Don’t be selfish, he reminds himself. You asked for time and space to think about your future with him – if he wants to make this work, thinking of solely his own desires needs to stop here. He must prove to you that it’ll be worth it, that there’s no reason to lose any more time than you’ve already lost.

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” he apologizes quietly.

“It’s okay. But consider this week as punishment, if you’d like.”

He pouts. “I really can’t come see you?”

You give a small grin, a pointer finger moving to tap his nose. “Nope.”

With that, he sighs begins to walk out the door, but not before stealing another peck. The action only makes you laugh and playfully push him over the door threshold, waving as he walks backwards with a pout. You don’t close the door until he’s turned the corner, nearly collapsing against it once the deadbolt is locked in place. Everything hits you all at once again, leaving you reeling and almost gasping for air. Your heart won’t cease its rapid pace, though it seems to come to a full halt when your phone chimes with a text message from him.

“Good night, (y/n). I love you.”

Yes, it’s amazing how lucky you are.

-

Without fail, Oikawa texts and calls you every day. He never fails to remind you that he loves you. Twice, he orders delivery to your door because he knows you need to pack your kitchen. A man who buys you food as a surprise and seems to always know what you’re in the mood for? It’s as if the universe is telling you to hurry up and marry this guy.

And Oikawa, trying to be the responsible person that he is, doesn’t see you until they’re sending you off at the airport. Your parents had offered to pick him and Iwaizumi up from his place, especially since it was a little early in the morning. A taxi drops you and your suitcases off at the gate. You hadn’t spotted them when you got in and made a move to go ahead and check your bags in. After you had finished dropping them off, you had turned around to wait outside of the check-in area and spotted the four of them chatting while waiting for you. Even with it being so early in the morning, you can’t help but break out into a smile at seeing them, speeding up your pace as much as you can with the carry-on suitcase lugging behind you.

“Thank you, guys, for coming all this way,” you express your gratitude while embracing Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

“What kind of shitty friends would we be if we didn’t?” Iwaizumi asks as you move to hug your parents. Your mother keeps an arm around you at the end, already fighting her tears.

“Mom…”

“Do you have everything you need?” She interjects, voice choking up. “Phone? Wallet? Passport? Boarding pass? New SIM card? Emergency cash?”

“They’re all here,” you say, pointing to the locations of each item. “I’m gonna be okay, mom.”

“Don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything, ok?” Your father reminds you. “We’re only a call or text away.”

“I know. I’ll try to make it home on the holidays or something, but if not, I’ll be back in a few years at least.”

“What if you end up meeting someone and want to stay in America with them?” Your mother sniffles, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

“Well,” you hesitate, casting a quick look towards Oikawa. When his gaze meets yours, you begin to feel more confident about the answer that you settled on yesterday. You know he’s anxious to find out what you’ve decided. “I’m sure that’s not going to happen. Can I have a minute with Tooru please? Alone?”

Your mother’s eyes widen in realization before she’s quick to shoo off your father and Iwaizumi. Once they’re out of earshot, Oikawa looks at you expectantly.

“Do I get my answer today?” He inquires, removing his hand from his jacket pocket to hold one of yours. You take the initiative to interlace your fingers with his, giving a tight squeeze.

“Mmm,” you hum while fishing out your phone with your free hand. Oikawa watches anxiously as you tap and scroll through something, breath baited as your eyes seem to light up at finding what you need. You turn the screen to him and ask, “Does that answer your question?”

At first, he’s confused. Oikawa sees a contact page open and automatically notices it’s his number. It’s not until his vision drifts back to the top of the page where his name usually was. In the past, it had been “crappykawa” with a smiling emoji, but to his delight, it now reads “the boyfriend­TM”.

His excitement prompts him to lift you from the waist and spin you around in a few circles. You shriek and shake with laughter as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck to hold on, your eyes closed tightly until he puts you down. Even then, he doesn’t detach himself from you and leans down to kiss you sweetly, never wanting to let up. It doesn’t matter that you’re leaving him in the next few minutes – he’d rather have this than nothing at all.

Minutes later and after more teary goodbyes, you walk through the line towards security. The four of them watch as you exchange pleasantries and answer questions by the guard checking your boarding pass and passport. Once you’ve been cleared, you turn around once more to give a final wave, before disappearing behind the gray walls. After you pass security and find somewhere to eat a quick breakfast, you check your phone. There’s a Snapchat from Oikawa that you immediately move to open. It’s a selfie taken at an angle where his phone would’ve been in his lap. He has his characteristic pout on his face and the caption reads, “i already miss you, my love.”

And at that moment, you know, you can feel it with every ounce of your being, that everything is going to be okay.

-

(epilogue)

Months after you moved to California, Oikawa received his invite to play for a professional volleyball team in Argentina. He consulted his closest friend, you, his coaches, and they all agreed on one thing: he’d be stupid to turn it down.

It wasn’t the Japan national team, but it was definitely an opportunity of a lifetime. He greatly admired the national Argentine team as a child, and that admiration never wavered. On the plus side, it would make the long-distance relationship easier with you, as the time difference would be cut significantly.

The relationship experienced its ups and downs. Some main recurring themes of contention involved his tendency to overwork himself and your frequent late nights in the lab, as well as your disregard for your physical and mental health during times of high stress. They were issues born out of love and care, and they were worked on to help each other improve. You’d always livestream his volleyball matches and he would attempt to stay up with you on a video call if you were in the lab or up late studying, reminding you to drink water and eat something nutritious.

Oikawa found time to visit you during rare extended breaks in the off-season. He’d always make sure that you two would video call Iwaizumi together, wearing a shit-eating grin when Iwaizumi would pick up the call and roll his eyes. In return, you saved up and visited him in Argentina, though only able to stay up to a week at most. The new life was a little difficult and strange, but he made it work. He loved his teammates, he loved you, he loved volleyball, and he couldn’t ask for more.

You finished your doctorate in four years, just as you had predicted. You already had a job lined up before graduation at an academic hospital in Tokyo, allowing you to practice pharmacy and continue research. Not only that, Iwaizumi also earned a position in the top volleyball team in Japan, leaving Oikawa to be ecstatic. His personal dream from so many years ago was finally coming together – the three of you together in the same city, and him and Iwaizumi on the same superior team, even if it meant playing with Kageyama Tobio and Ushijima Wakatoshi. But he’d get used to it eventually.  

When you first returned to Tokyo, you were happy to see that not much had changed. Oikawa had another couple of years in Argentina before he would return to Japan and join Iwaizumi on the team. A few weeks in, you were already enjoying your job immensely – the only thing missing was your boyfriend.

A year has passed, and you are currently sitting at home in front of the TV with a mug in your hands. You’re dressed down in your comfiest sweatpants and Tooru’s jersey from university days. A white gold chain holding a simple silver ring hangs daintily around your neck as a token and symbol of a promise. You check your phone and frown a little – Tooru hadn’t texted or called you all day, though he did mention he would be busy with preparing for an upcoming practice match. You’re now worried that Tooru’s overworking himself again, holding the device now to send a quick text reminder to take breaks and stretch afterwards.

You toss your phone to the side and try to focus on the humorous game show, picking up on how ridiculous some of the antics were. American game shows had nothing on the ones here in Japan.

Someone rings your doorbell. At first, you think it’s the postman dropping off a package you had been expecting and make no move towards the door. But the doorbell is rung once again, leaving you to hesitantly approach the entrance. You peek through the spyhole and spot a young man outside, hat slipped on backwards, glasses perched on his nose, and hands stuffed into his pants pockets. He’s looking away from you and has suitcases around him, but you can recognize that side profile from anywhere. Could it be?

You fumble with the lock and throw open the door as your heart threatens to beat out of its chest. The young man finally looks up at you and you gasp as tears spring forward to your eyes.

Oikawa Tooru is standing right in front of you with the most beautiful smile on his face that you have ever seen.

He’s ready to catch you when you squeal and run into his arms, dissolving into laughter as you blubber into his neck and attempt to make sense of what’s happening. Tooru spins you around a few times for good measure, relishing in the comfort of your body against his. It had been too long since he last held you, and luckily, he’d never have to wait that long ever again.

His invite came as a phone call not too long ago, personally from the coach of the team that Iwaizumi had joined. They were willing to wait for him if he wanted another year in Argentina as he had originally planned, but Tooru decided that it was time to come back. He had buzzed with excitement as he planned out his great return, wanting so badly to surprise you. It’d go down in the book as one of the best reveals of a major life change for the two of you, and he wanted it to be perfect.

“How—what—when—I have so many questions!” You stammer, hands reaching for his face to make sure that this is real. Tooru leans into your palm, eyes catching the glisten of the promise ring that he had gifted you two years ago. He was a little worried that it wouldn’t be noticeable enough (“I need people out there to understand that you’re spoken for!” “What are you, a prince of the medieval days?”), but he did appreciate how beautiful it looked when you wore it as such. The happiness he feels right now is more than he could have ever imagined, especially now when he can finally look into your eyes and say the words that he’s been yearning to speak for years to you —

”I’m home, (y/n).”

-

fin.

[sunshine-stars]

Cardigan

Flynn is going through her closet and keeps finding clothes that remind her of Carrie. Flarrie fluff and angst.

Based on Cardigan by Taylor Swift

Word count: 2,657

Cw: heartbreak, losing close friends

Thank you to @montacrewvibes for the nicknames soda pop and bubblegum and @kybee1497 for the nickname Flynnie!

Vintage tee, brand new phone

High heels on cobblestones

“Carrie emerges from behind the next aisle and smiles. “That is so cool! I love Madonna!” Then she starts singing Vogue and Flynn has to hold the shirt rack for balance. Her voice is so powerful yet so soft, just like she is.

She pauses for a beat and looks at Flynn. “What are you doing? Come on sing with me!” She looks so excited and how could Flynn resist.

“Come on, vogue. Let your body move to the music,” they sing together, their voices meshing perfectly. Carrie is dancing, but it’s mainly just bouncing and doing the vogue. How could one person be so adorable and happy? Flynn will never know.

At the end of the chorus they both laugh. “That song is so much fun,” Flynn happily sighs.

“I know right. Anyways you HAVE to buy that t-shirt. It’s amazing.”

Flynn looks down at the shirt then back at Carrie, trying not to stare at her too much. “You’re so right.”

They pay for it at the register and walk out of the store. Flynn quickly throws it on over her long sleeve. “How do I look?” Flynn puts their hand on her hip.

Carrie doesn’t reply for a moment, just stares, cheeks a soft pink. It is kinda chilly out. “It looks awesome. You’re so pretty that you can pull anything off.”

She calls them pretty and Flynn’s brain stops working. She has to fight a wide smile and suppress the warmth spreading through their whole body. “Me? Look at you! You’re so gorgeous.” Flynn prays that she doesn’t recognize that her voice is slightly higher than usual.

Carrie’s cheeks go slightly more pink and she smiles softly. Is she cold? “Here take my jacket. You look cold.” They hand her the jacket and Carrie slowly puts it on.

“It’s MY cardigan. I let you borrow it, remember?” Carrie teases while raising an eyebrow.

Flynn looks at it. How could she forget that she’s wearing it? It’s cream knit with blue stars on it and her favourite thing, especially since it’s Carrie’s.

She interrupts their train of thought. “C’mon let’s take a picture, your Madonna top is too good not to.”

Flynn nods and wraps her arm around Carrie’s shoulders. She wishes that they could stay there forever, but unfortunately the moment ends after Carrie takes the photo on her new phone.

“I have to go home, but I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“Yeah I need to go home too, I’ve been procrastinating my homework and now I have a ton.”

Carrie just sighs as she turns away. “Just make sure not to have too many sodas, soda pop!” She calls as she leaves.

“I’ll try, bubblegum,” Flynn softly responds while watching Carrie’s heels disappear as they clip clop against the cobblestone. It always amazes them how they could walk effortlessly in heels. Carrie always pretends to look effortless and like she doesn’t care, but Flynn knows her better than that.

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Or at least, Flynn KNEW her better than that. She realizes that going through their closet was a mistake. There’s too many memories in the clothing that hangs there. They leave a bittersweet aftertaste.

The Madonna shirt is in her hands. Flynn loves that memory, but now it just carries the hurt of Carrie no longer being her friend. At least they aren’t quite enemies. Just the shadow of the girl she used to know, and love. Now they don’t even like either.

People assume you don’t know anything when you’re young, but you actually know more. You’re less afraid, less guarded, less hidden. People change, but Flynn knew that not too long ago she did know her, even if they don’t now.

Sequin smile, Black lipstick

Sensual politics

“Are you sure this looks good?” Flynn asks as she looks in the mirror. Black lipstick is a bold move, but they think it doesn’t look too bad.

“Are you kidding me Flynn?!” Julie exclaims. “You look so good and badass! Carrie was so right when she said you’d look good in black lipstick. What do you think, Care?”

Flynn turns to face Carrie who is just staring at her lips. She has an awestruck expression on her face and swallows heavily before meeting Flynn’s eyes. Does their lipstick look that bad that she has to stare at her lips? Or maybe it’s smudged? Flynn has no idea.

“It looks really good, Flynnie,” she says softly. There’s something off about her voice. Flynn can’t figure out what though.

Julie on the other hand just lets out a short laugh. Carrie kicks her shin in response. They seem to be having some kind of glaring match. Flynn has never been more confused.

“What’s going on?”

Julie responds first while smirking. “Carrie was just-“

“Thinking that I should really steal your sequin top,” Carrie quickly interrupts. “It’s pink and sparkly and pretty and totally my aesthetic. Please?” Carrie pouts, trying to convince her.

There is definitely something that she doesn’t know, but they doubt they’ll find out and she can never say no to Carrie. “Sure, pinky. Here you go.” Flynn passes it to Carrie who thanks her then goes to the washroom to change.

Julie looks at Flynn knowingly. “You’ve got it bad.”

“Shut up!” They respond, crossing their arms and pointedly staring at the wall. It’s just a little crush okay, nothing big.

Before they know it Carrie is back in the room and Flynn’s eyes widen. She looks incredibly pretty. Pink is definitely her colour. And she’s wearing Flynn’s shirt. She’s wearing a shirt that belongs to them. Flynn knows that they’re not in a relationship, but her stomach is already a whirl of butterflies and their heart feels like it’s gonna pump out of her chest. Carrie flashes her a sequin smile and Flynn is so done for.

Julie mumbles something that kinda sounds like “Useless lesbians,” but Flynn can’t bring herself to care.

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

The pink sequin top that Carrie looked so beautiful in is in their closet, and she knows that the black lipstick they wore is in her drawer. In hindsight Flynn knows that maybe Carrie was looking at her lips because she wanted to kiss her, but that doesn’t matter now. It’ll never happen.

Maybe they did know nothing when she was young. They didn’t know that their friendship that she valued so much would turn to dust at what seemed like a moment's notice. She didn’t know that they’d lose one of her best friends. They never could have imagined it, but this is the sad reality that she’s living in. If only things could’ve been different.

But I knew you

Dancin’ in your Levi’s

Drunk under a streetlight

“Do you ever think about how lucky we are to have met? The odds are slim to none, yet they aligned perfectly for us. I don’t know where I’d be without you. We’re just two parts of a whole trying to make our way through the world,” Carrie recites as if it’s a poem she knows by heart, but Flynn knows that it’s something she just thought of.

Her head is tipped back with her eyes closed, bathing her face in the glow of the streetlight, making her look like an angel, so ethereal and unreal. Combined with what she just said, Flynn can’t even form one coherent thought, but they feel the same way. They’re just connected in some way.

Not that she doesn’t love Julie just as much, but it’s in a different way. Julie is her sister, their family, but Carrie is her… she’d like to say soulmate, but that’s too cheesy. Plus she doesn’t even know if she likes them romantically.

“Are you drunk or something?” Flynn asks, trying to lighten the mood, not knowing what to do with this tension. Plus they just have no idea what to say.

Carrie just looks at her and smiles teasingly. “Drunk on you perhaps, but I’m as sober as a judge.”

“Good to know, Sappho. Can’t have your creative little mind going to waste.” Flynn can’t help, but tease a little back. Carrie really is their Sappho.

She points at some words painted on her Levi’s and softly says, “You may forget but, Let me tell you this: someone in the future in some future time will think of us.”

They painted that when her, Flynn, and Julie all came out to each other, a Sappho quote. They all have a matching pair of Levi’s that have that quote painted on it.

Flynn just smiles widely and relishes in the moment.

Flynn still has her Levi’s. She doesn’t wear them very often anymore. They’re just gathering dust in her closet. How ironic that they painted them when they all came out of the closet, and now they’re gathering dust in her closet.

That moment was one of Flynn’s favourites. It was so soft, so tender, so them, but now Carrie’s words sting. They’re still very precious to her, but if everything she said was true, how could this have happened? If they were truly two parts of a whole trying to make their way through the world, they would still be friends, and maybe even something more, right?

Flynn doesn’t know, but they’re tired. She misses her so badly, but they’re done. Everything that they had is just over.

They did know her though. They really did. They were something less cheesy than soulmates. Flynn grieves the girl she once knew, but really there’s no use. They’ve both grown up, and unfortunately with that growing, they also grew apart.

I knew you

Hand under my sweatshirt

Baby kiss it better

“I cannot believe that Mr. Robertson is giving us a 10 page test tomorrow even though we’re only halfway through the unit! This is ridiculous! Who does he think-“ Flynn interrupts herself by yelping when they feel something cold on her back.

Carrie giggles. “What? Are my hands cold, sweetheart?”

Flynn turns around to face this stupid adorable girl with their finger pointed at her. “I told you not to do that! Your hands are freezing!”

“But it’s fun to see you yelp, plus my hands are really cold. I just had English and that room is always FREEZING.” Carrie gives her a pleading look and Flynn just sighs as she holds out her hand. She really needs to learn how to say no to Carrie, but they don’t really want to.

Carrie smiles widely and grabs her hand, sending another shiver down Flynn’s spine. “I love your sweatshirt by the way.”

They’re wearing an orange cropped tie dye sweatshirt that’s super soft. Flynn embroidered a little orange on the chest and she loves it so much. They smile softly.

Julie clears her throat. Oh yeah, they were just talking about science. Flynn completely forgot. In their defence, Carrie is amazing.

“Come on let’s eat lunch, I want a cookie,” Julie says, deciding to ignore them and instead tease them about it afterwards. Thank God for that because Flynn would’ve either killed her or died from embarrassment, who knows which.

They all continue talking, but all Flynn can really focus on is that she’s holding hands with Carrie, even if they’re freezing cold. Due to Flynn’s oblivious happiness they miss a step when walking down the stairs. Luckily, they were smart enough to let go of Carrie’s hand before doing so, but it still really hurts. She looks down and somehow she scraped one of her knees. Well that’s just great.

“Are you okay?!” Carrie asks worriedly, kneeling beside her. They can hear Julie laughing on the other side of her. At the moment she really wishes that she didn’t know about her crush.

“Yeah I’m okay, my love,” Flynn says to comfort her, even though her butt and knee still really hurt.

Carrie still doesn’t look convinced. “You are so lucky I have a bandaid right now.” She takes one out of her pocket and carefully puts it on Flynn’s scraped knee.

Their brain still isn’t working properly. How can you expect it to when Carrie is oh so tenderly caring for them and showing that she loves her? To try to break the tenderness because they don’t know what else to do Flynn jokingly asks, “Kiss it better?”

“As you wish.” Carrie softly and quickly kisses the bandaid on their knee. Flynn can’t even feel it, but it’s enough to make her face darken and heart race. This girl will be the death of her.

Flynn doesn’t know why she’s reminiscing about this all of a sudden, but it’s just one of those days where everything sucks and the nostalgia sinks in. It probably wasn’t a good idea for her to go through her closet when she already felt bad, but it’s too late now. Sure enough the orange tie dye sweatshirt was in it.

They miss Carrie. They miss her so much that she can’t breathe. Flynn starts to cry as she feels the lump in her throat grow. Why did everything have to change? She was happy. They were all happy, and now she’s picking up the pieces of themselves.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone’s bed

You put me on and said I was your favourite

Flynn and Carrie are lying on Carrie’s bed, just listening to music and hanging out. Flynn’s had a terrible day where nothing seemed to go right. It brought all their insecurities to the surface where before she was just burying them under everything else.

“I feel like I’m an ordinary. Like I’m nothing special and could just be thrown away and no one could care. Like I’m an old cardigan laying under someone’s bed,” Flynn softly confesses in the quiet room.

They can hear Carrie shifting to face her, but they can’t look in her eyes yet. Instead of talking to Flynn though, she just stands up and gets something out of her closet.

“This is my favourite jacket, Carrie says just as softly while walking back to her bed. “It might not seem like anything special, just a cream cardigan.” She sits down beside her and shows her the back of it, but then flips it over to show the blue stars embroidered on it. “But it means the world to me. My Dad gave it to me when my Mom was sick. It’s still the most comforting thing I own. I usually just wear it at home because I’m scared I’ll ruin it, but I wear it out when I need a little extra comfort.

Carrie passes the cardigan to her. “You’re like this cardigan to me. You help me so much and you mean the world to me, Flynn. I love you so much and you are my favourite, never forget that. Take it. Just give it back eventually, please. Hopefully it’ll help you as much as it has helped me.” Carrie smiles tenderly.

Flynn has no words. No words for Carrie’s kindness and love. All they can focus on is this warm feeling and how much they love this girl that she just can’t describe. Flynn starts crying and pulls Carrie into a tight hug. Everything will be okay.

Flynn cries even harder now. She never gave back the cardigan. They completely forgot about it. Her mind is full of guilt, but it’s made them realize something. If Carrie loved them that much before, it can’t all completely be gone. After all, Flynn still does. She puts on the cardigan and fiddles with the slightly too long sleeves. Maybe they can still fix this.