#also i got a lot of birthday messages today and it cheered me up quite a bit. thank you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bluebaby123 · 4 years ago

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Bitter Taste: Iwaizumi x f/reader Pt. 1

pt. 2 here

THIS IS SO LATE and I’m a fuck up hahahaha (kinda ironic this was 2 weeks late for Mental Health Awareness month)

I am crediting my girl @kuso-deku for giving me Iwaizumi brain rot to begin with. I am also crediting @gixxie and @idonotagreebitch for helping me talk through my ideas... and crediting @doinmybesthere for the wonderful idea of a mental health awareness collaboration the link is here. PLS READ THE REST OF THE WORKS. Everyone deserves the love.

TW: manipulative male/female relationships, gaslighting?, subtle shit head crap that most men do (don’t worry Iwa is a peach as always tho, it’s Ushijima that’s the problem)

Iwaizumi stands and stretches in the cinema. The movie had been good, but long, he figured it was a little after midnight. “What’d ya think?” Kuroo asks as they exit the theatre. “I hated the ending…” Oikawa gripes, “I hate endings where everyone just dies.” “You are such a princess Tooru, I swear, it’s a metaphorical ending… did you not catch all the symbolism in the opening credits?” Iwaizumi sighs and turns his phone back on, trying his best to ignore their bickering. Slowly, notification after notification pops up… all from you. He blinks, surprised. You had declined his offer to join him for the film, stating you had previous plans attending a close friend’s birthday.

Iwa opens the messages from you. He sees first the selfies. You look beautiful, extravagant even. Your dress is beautiful, it compliments your figure perfectly with the corseted bodice. It’s white and so is your lace mask. Broad, feathered angel wings rest on your back. Angelic would have been a word he’d used to describe you before, but now, it was confirmed. He wants to keep staring at the photos but Kuroo and Oikawa are starting to become too curious about the contents of his phone. He scrolls and relaxes his face to look more casual. But it’s hard when your intoxicated messages are so darn cute.

hope the movie is good!

okay so I guess there’s an open bar? Is it my birthday too?

if you wanna come by after the movie I’msure you coul

this partyyyy suckssssssss assssssssss

wish id gon wiht u xx

You are clearly drunk and he laughs to himself before Kuroo peers over his right shoulder. “Well she’s thinking about you at least,” he smirks. Oikawa peers over Iwaizumi’s left shoulder, “ooo play the voice message.” Oikawa taps the message before Iwaizumi can give him an answer.

“Hiiiii Iwaaaaaa, hope you like the moovie and you’re having a good time, cuz I’m having a preetyy good time, they gots free margaritaaass. Okay byeeeee”

The guys laugh and Oikawa presses the next one.

“Hey Iwaaa, I made up a song about you, ready?

Iwaizumi

Doesn’t know what he does- to me…

Sshfhsijknfhahaha I cant remember the rest som’n bout… som’n I dunno. Byeee”

“Okay, Ushi says that I need to say sorry for sending so many…” you pause and then whisper, “drunk messages, but I’as only tellin’ ya I ssink ‘r awesome ‘n you should totally come to this party and hang out with me… you’re awesome, okay byeee”

Oikawa and Kuroo pause and look at Iwaizumi. “Ushi?” Oikawa asks, “like Ushiwaka?” Oikawa’s eyes are narrowed and he gags dramatically in disgust. Iwaizumi nods and walks to exit the theatre. “Wait… that’s her friend who’s having the birthday party?” Iwa grimaces as Kuroo chuckles. “No wonder you’ve had a stick up your ass all night.” Iwa glares at him, “they’re just friends… apparently… I don’t know, she said they’ve known each other for a really long time…” Kuroo claps Iwaizumi on the back. “I think you should definitely go to the party.” Iwaizumi starts to object but the ring of his phone draws attention, and he answers it. “Heyyy you're outta th’moviee, heheeheheha,” you slur. Iwaizumi laughs softly and smiles, “yeah, I’m out of the movie now, are you… good?” There is so much background noise, it almost drowns out your sweet sleepy voice. “I’m soooo good… … I just-” he can hear your voice drop to a drunken whisper. “I’z just hoping to see you today,” you mumble finally.

Iwaizumi can feel his heartbeat quicken, his head reeling. “Oh really?” He plays cool but then instantly regrets it when you give him a serious answer. “Yeah, I was really hoping you’d come to the party, even for just a little,” you murmur. Iwaizumi can’t help but chuckle. You were pretty cute like this, not normally so transparent. You were actually quite hard to read, so sweet but guarded and teasing too. You were a friend of Oikawa’s first and he had met you through him. He’d liked the way you sat cross legged on the couch smiling, chin in your hands while you asked questions and listened to his answers. Your eyes sparkle when you hear something you like, and your face lights up when you talk about things you find interesting.

“Ya don’t have to, I can just see ya another time,” you add. He’s been silent too long which causes him to speak without thinking. “No, I’d love to see you, I’ll head to you now.” Kuroo and Oikawa are silently cheering him on and Iwa turns away in embarrassment. “Really? Okay! I’ll drop my pin… as the kids are sayin’ these days hahaha.” “See you soon, drink some water okay?” “Mhm, I will, see ya soon!”

You were at a club owned by Ushijima’s family. A place called ‘Eagle’s Nest’. He’d only known you for a few weeks but he couldn’t help his infatuation. It was immediate, the night he had gone to Oikawas for game night. You spoke to him so easily not knowing him at all and laughed at his little side jabs to his long time friend. The way you looked at him… Iwa knew then that he wanted to see you smile, hear your laugh, and that he would be happy to assume the responsibility of making that happen.

He was surprised when you had declined his offer for the movie, feeling that you both had some definite chemistry, but Iwaizumi was even more surprised when you had said that you had prior plans with his old time rival Ushijima Wakatoshi. Iwaizumi hadn’t seen him since high school but they knew a few people in common, Oikawa being one of those people. Oikawa could sure hold a grudge but Iwaizumi took all of his comments with a grain of salt. Ushijima often came off entitled and cold, which would leave Iwaizumi with a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe Oikawa had the right idea holding a grudge… But grudge or not he wanted to see you, hear your voice and admire you all dolled up.

When Iwaizumi arrives at the club he is met with a large security guard. “Invitation?” he grumbles. Iwa remains calm but a small trickle of fear runs down his back. Iwaizumi gives the guard a casual smile before he starts to answer but he is interrupted. “Iwaaaaa,” you cry from the top of the stairs. The mask you’d had on is now resting on top of your head, the delicate features of your face now exposed. The floofy skirt of your dress bounces with your excitement as you run down the stairs. You crash into him, throwing your arms around his neck. You bury your face in his collar and still momentarily. Drunk and bubbly, you melt when Iwa wraps his arms around your waist in return, avoiding your costume’s wings. “Mmmm,” you hum, breath hot against his skin, “you smell good.” You pull back and stare into his wide eyes. “You look incredible,” he offers, a slight pink tint to his cheeks. You grin in return and simply take hold of his hand. “He’s with me,” you beam at the guard. Iwaizumi is doubtful this trick will work here. But he is surprised when the guard steps aside saying, “as you wish Miss L/N.” You giggle and pull Iwa towards the doors. “I’ll bring you some cake later, okay Jurou?” Jurou laughs, “just have fun darlin’.” “You’re the best,” you call behind you as you push open the doors. Iwaizumi can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy knowing that you are on a first name basis with one of the body guards at the Wakatoshi’s club. How close were you with Ushijima?

Blue and purple lights illuminate the vast space while black tiles make up the main floor. The dance floor is sunken, in the middle of the club with a small set of stairs leading down to it. It’s made entirely of glass, beneath is a saltwater garden of different plants and coral.

“You’ll need one of these,” you explain, swiping a simple black mask from the welcome table. You hand it over to him and pull yours down over your eyes. Iwaizumi adjusts it to where he can see. “You look so handsome,” you admire. He grins, “what about you? You’ve got wings!” You laugh and adjust your mask back on top of your forehead. “I’m a swan, and Ushi said I couldn’t be a swan without wings!” You spin for him, trying your best to flap the feathered wings. Small pieces of confetti glitter rain from the skirt of your dress. Iwaizumi takes in your face illuminated by the lights of the club. Blue and pink dancing over your cheeks as you smile up at him. “What?” you giggle nervously. Just a few weeks but he is mesmerised by your everything. He shakes his head and tries to move on. He wanted to tell you how he felt but this wasn’t the right time. It should be when you’re sober, when you can take in his words properly.

You coax him down towards the bar. “You’re sure it’s okay to sneak in uninvited guests?” Iwa questions. “Well, I asked Ushi ‘nd he said it was okay, so yeah!” You grin but notice Iwaizumi’s reserve. “It’s really okay, I promise, let’s just get a drink,” you suggest and take his hand. “Only if you drink more water,” he smirks. You roll your eyes at Iwa, “I drank some water before you got here actually.” You look back at him as you both head down to the bar. “I’ll prolly regret that yurr seeing me like this tamorow, ya know,” you call over the blaring music. “It’s cute, you’re cute,” he assures as he leans against the bar, “I didn’t know you thought about me this much until I saw all the snapchats and voice messages and texts.” You cover your face in humiliation, “I knowww, I’m sorry but you were on my mind a lot, alot alot, and couldn’t stop think about ya, and the booze told me to keep on messaging…” You trail off, finding the last shred of your filter to keep you from talking. The bartender hands you your water and you take a long drink.

“Iwaizumi,” a voice projects over the baseline. Ushijima stands tall advancing towards where you both stand. His expression is neutral though, his eyes keep darting to you and then back to Iwaizumi. Ushijima is dressed as a knight, his silver mask hangs languidly around his neck. “Ushiwaka,” Iwa acknowledges, “this is a hell of a birthday party.” You giggle and point at Ushiwaka, “he’s 28 today; getting sooo old.” In that moment, Iwaizumi watches him do something he had never seen him do before. Smile… and then laugh. Ushijima wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. “You’re just a baby, you’re only-” You wave your hand in front of Ushiwaka’s face, shushing him. “No, no, Iwa doesn’t knowww, don’t tell him,” you plead. “She’s only 23,” Ushiwaka says. You hold your face in your hands once more and groan. Ushijima pulls your hands from your face, “just barely twenty three too.” You glare at him and look back at Iwaizumi embarrassed. “Did she not tell you her age?” Ushijima asks Iwaizumi. Iwa shrugs, “She didn’t, but I never asked,” Iwa shrugs casually, addressing you now, “didn’t seem important since you carry yourself so well.”

You turn to Iwa, mouth open like you’re about to respond but Ushijima swipes the glass from your hands before you can finish. “Drinking water?” You look up at him. “But it’s my birthday… and this is a party… you need something stronger…” Ushijima beacons the bartender with a single flick of his hand. The barman pours three double shots of a clear liquid from a foreign looking bottle. Ushijima takes a glass and hands it to you, before handing another to Iwaizumi. Ushijima gives him a wink as he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He raises his glass, the violet lights illuminating the liquid. Iwaizumi follows his lead. “To my Juliet, the belle of the ball,” Ushijima bellows. You smile slightly and shake your head. “No no, to you Ushi, it’s your birthday, not mine, we are celebrating you!” Your eyes find Iwa’s, but you leave your glass raised. Ushijima grabs hold of your hand that’s still wrapped around the glass. “Cheers,” He tips the glass towards your lips and you swallow the clear liquor as he feeds it to you. You down it all in one go and Ushiwaka smiles wide once again. “She’s good, huh?” With that, Ushiwaka clinks his glass to Iwaizumi’s, “to you brother,” he assures. Iwa is surprised with the sudden sentiment. “And to you,” he replies before downing the shot. The liquor is surprisingly smooth, expensive, and strong. Iwa can feel his head starting to get light from the small portion that was in the glass and Iwa wasn’t a light weight. “Strong huh?” Ushijima smirks. Iwaizumi nods then turns to the bartender to signal for a water.

Ushijima turns to where you stand swaying slightly with the music. “Look at her, she gets drunk so easily,” Ushijima smiles. “How are you feeling, princess?” he shouts over at you. Iwa turns away and downs his water in disgust. ‘Princess?’ Ushijima shouldn’t be calling you that if you’re both just friends. You blink and give him a smile and a thumbs up. There was a natural innocence about you, a childlike wonder and curiosity, the embodiment of sanguine. Ushijima’s air was sometimes sinister, like he was taking advantage of your natural trusting nature. Iwa watches as Ushijima’s large hands rest on either of your shoulders and he pushes you back and forth like a pendulum between his palms. You giggle and try to push him away, “Ushi stooopp.” He laughs with you and continues pushing you around, “you’re so cute and small though, see?” He places a hand on top of your head and you still. “I said to stop,” you mumble. “And I did,” he retorts before letting you go.

Iwa watches the sudden weight of gravity find you as you stumble in your heels. He catches your arm just in time. Your arms find their way around his neck once more, your face in the crook of his neck. You pull away and Iwa examines your foggy eyes. “You okay?” You nod, pushing off of Iwa’s chest. You fix your hair, “it’s fine, he just messin’” you turn to Ushijima, “and someone doesn’t know when to quit.” You’re pulled away into Ushiwaka’s arms. He sways you back and forth, your back held against his chest while he says soft apologies. He whispers something to you and you nod. Iwaizumi wanted to pull you away from him. Not because he was jealous, but because the way that Ushiwaka was behaving with you was odd.

“Y/n is a little bit tired, why don’t you join us in VIP?” Iwa smiles and gives his thanks, trying his best to hide his scowl. Iwa follows after you and Ushiwaka, upstairs and under velvet ropes hoping that he will find a good moment to pull you away. But instead you are pulled onto the couch beside Ushiwaka. He lights a cigar and offers one to Iwa, but Iwaizumi declines with a simple, “no thanks, don’t smoke.” It’s strange the way that Ushiwaka keeps whispering in your ear, giving you sips of his drinks, and blowing smoke in your face. “Ushi, stop please, the smell is making me sick,” you whine. But he just pulls you closer to him, chuckling all the while and does it again. You’re laughing and poking his face, but it’s not out of joy... Watching Ushijima interact with you the whole night has been like watching a cat toy with a mouse.

Iwa grimaces when Ushiwaka tickles you. “Stop-stop-don’t-stop,” you giggle and howl. “She said to stop!” Iwa raises his voice. Ushijima’s eyes shoot towards Iwaizumi while you squirm off the couch. Your eyes are heavy as you walk towards a dark hallway and disappear into the shadows. Iwa’s eyes flick to the entrance to the hall. Ushiwaka sits in a contented silence, sipping a drink, “she’s so dramatic,” he sighs. He continues smoking, arm rested over the back of the purple velvet sofa. Ushijima takes a sip of his drink, swirling the ice in his glass. Iwa doesn’t move to break the silence no matter how expectant Ushijima’s expression was. He stamps out his cigar in the tray before addressing him.

“She’s awfully talkative, and incredibly fond of you…” Ushijima starts, an odd smirk painting his expression. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow in intrigue and Ushijima’s face hardens. “She won’t shut up about you since she met you… it’s annoying...” Iwaizumi, remains quiet, the silence settling over the men like a thick fog. The only sounds are muffled club music and the ice tinkling against Ushijima’s glass. “I’m going to be honest as a friend… bad idea.” Iwaizumi can feel the rage bubbling inside his gut, “I don’t think that what’s going on between us is any of your-” He’s cut off by Ushijima.

“I’m really looking out for you Iwaizumi, girls can break hearts and Y/n is kind of known for that… she’s just a sweet soul, makes friends easily, but love? That’s harder for her… doesn’t have the best taste in men I’m afraid, I want to protect her and you from a situation where I can already see the conclusion… I get that you like her, everyone does.” Iwazumi leans forward, “does that include you?” Ushijima is stone faced, then gives a cold laugh. “You’re funnier than I remember, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi rises and heads towards the hall you disappeared down. If he sat in front of him any longer he was going to say something he regretted… and you still haven’t come back. He slips into the dark hallway as you’re exiting the bathroom. Your mask has been removed and even in the dim lighting you look pale. “Hey, what’s happened?” You look up at him embarrassed, your dress almost as wilted as you are. “Got sick…” you mutter. You’re shaking slightly, arms wrapped around yourself. “Oh Y/n, are you alright?” he sighs. His arm starts to reach for you but he thinks better of it, pulling it back to rest by his side. His eyes widen as he feels the warmth of your hand in his. He didn’t figure that you would want to be touched right now. But your fingers interlace with his, your skin soft. “Are you good to drive?” you whisper. His hand instinctively tightens around yours protectively. “I only had whatever Ushijima gave us, it was strong but I’ve had water- yeah I’m good.” “Would you mind taking me home?” you ask, as you start to walk back towards the VIP room. “Sure, course,” Iwaizumi replies gently. He feels how your thumb brushes over the back of his hand in silent gratitude. The gesture has his heart beating hard against his ribs. Iwa walks forward, his eyes on you and nothing else. Your brow is furrowed and your expression painted serious which was unusual from how he knew you to act.

“Iwa’s taking me home now,” you announce and walk towards the stairs. Ushiwaka’s face hardens, “I can take her home, you shouldn’t trouble yourself,” he addresses Iwaizumi. You smile and turn around facing Ushiwaka. “But Ushi, ‘s ur birthday, you can’t leave this party jus’ ‘a take me home,” You turn to Iwa now. “Let’s go,” you say and Iwa nods, still holding your hand. “Where’s my hug, princess?” Ushijima calls after you. You stop in your tracks and close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. You drop Iwa’s hand slowly, hesitantly. You walk back slowly and stand before his open arms. He lifts you and you groan. You’re still hugging him tightly but not quite with the same intimacy as before.

As Ushijima places you down you turn to look back at Iwa when Ushijima catches your face with his large hand. He coaxes your face back towards him then leans down. Ushiwaka locks eyes with Iwaizumi as he whispers something in your ear. Then he presses his lips to your cheek, still not moving his eyes away from Iwaizumi’s. Iwa tries his best to remain neutral but he can feel his lip creeping upwards in contempt. Ushiwaka is too prideful for his own good it seems.

You take Iwa’s hand again, leading him towards the exit. An exasperated look rests on your face. “What did he say to you?” Iwa asks. You sigh and shake your head. “‘S nothin’, ya shouldn’t worry your pretty lil head ‘bout it.” Iwa can’t help but allow a smile. He raises an eyebrow at you, “think my head is pretty?” he asks. He’s met with your hazy gaze, “I do,” you say simply. Iwa wasn’t prepared for such a straightforward answer to his question.

Once out of the club, the valet pull Iwaizumi’s car around. He’s careful not to let you walk too far on your own. Sick, in those ridiculous shoes and still quite drunk, he opens the car door for you before hopping into the driver's seat. “Will you put your address in?” Iwa hands you his phone and you type it in as asked. “Thanks for doing this,” you sigh. “Yeah of course,” he says as he puts the car into gear. A few streets of city light pass by in silence. Your hands are resting in your lap but your body is still trembling. “I can- umm- pull over if you need me to…” You wave the thought away with your hand, “it was the smell of the cigar more than anything…” Iwa’s gut begins to boil again. Your voice is soft, almost defeated. He speaks before thinking better of it. “Does he always treat you like that?” You look at Iwa and make eye contact briefly before his attention is back on the road. “He was being a little extra weird today, maybe because y’all used to play volleyball together or… I dunno really, he just gets like that sometimes…” You trail off, allowing your thoughts to fade into the rearview. The silence is deafening and you feel the need to break it. “He’s really nice too though, don’t get me wrong, he cooks for me and calls to check in, he even gets me little gifts, so I know he cares.” Iwa shakes his head, “if he cared he would have stopped when you asked him to.” You take a breath, “I know but he was just having a night I guess…” Iwa pulls into your driveway as the GPS notifies him that he has ‘arrived at the destination’. He puts the car in park, “you don’t have to make excuses for him… it’s okay to be angry, if that’s how you feel.” You start to open the door, your fingers on the handle. “I’m not angry though, I’m just kinda hurt.” You open the door and start to get out, “okay, maybe a little angry too.” You laugh to yourself but not out of joy. It’s an ironic laugh and Iwa can hear the pain ringing inside of it. “Let me walk you inside.”

#iwaizumi #iwa #hajime #hajime x reader #iwa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #pls protect me iwa

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fizziefizzco · 4 years ago

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A to Z of LynnCove: B is for Birthday

Cove’s first birthday in Sunset Bird is not going as well as he expected... ok its going horrible, but thankfully Lynn is there to the rescue (Feelings are Crush and Direct)

[ low-key this is me counting down to @gb-patch’s release of the Step 3 dlc, but also kinda beyond that because why not]

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If he was entirely honest about it, Cove didn’t really expect anyone from school to show up to his birthday party. He didn’t have any friends in class and only gave out invitations to everyone because his dad made them. No, what really made this the worst birthday ever was that his dad had forgotten. Yes! Forgotten the party that HE was going to set up. If anyone HAD shown up, they would’ve been in for a terrible surprise. Mr. Holden was even super busy that week, and had forgotten all about his fatherly duties.

So when cove left his room that morning, not expecting much but still hopeful, he was met with disappointment and an empty house. His father had left a note and breakfast on the stove that he had to run in to work for an emergency - with no indication that he knew it was his son’s birthday. Cove honestly wanted to cry right away; and the feelings began to well up inside of him as he grabbed a plate and sat down to eat breakfast. Cold eggs and bacon. Happy birthday to him.

[rest under the cut]

Meanwhile at the Cho house, or rather a few hours earlier ... Pamela Cho came downstairs to a frantic answering machine message from Cliff Holden that he needed to go somewhere for the day due to an emergency at work. When she tried calling back to get an explanation, Mr. Holden wasn’t picking up his phone. Hrm. Well it wasn’t an inconvenience for them to take care of Cove that day - her and her wife’s youngest child seemed to love him in a rather innocent way. Their older daughter was indifferent to him.

As though she’d called their name, little footsteps came bounding down the stairs as she set the phone back in it’s place. Pamela, or Mom, as her kids called her, was a morning person - and thankfully so was Lynn, her youngest. Her wife Noelani, and oldest child Lizzie, were both the kind to sleep in late. So it was just Pamela and Lynn at the moment.

“Good Morning Mom!” Lynn called out as they hopped over to where one of their mothers was. Pamela smiled and let out a small chuckle,

“What’s got you all excited this morning?” She asked, reaching out to ruffle the mess of dark waves that Lynn had. Lynn didn’t move away from their mom, and relished in the comforting gesture.

“It’s Cove’s birthday!! His dad sent out invitations for a party, I helped cove hand them out to the whoooole class!” Pamela smiled

“That’s - “ She cut herself off, eyes going wide in dawning horror. “You said ... TODAY is Cove’s birthday?” and when Lynn nodded back with confusion, Pamela made a b-line to where her keys were.

“Baby go wake up your Mommy, okay?” Pam called out, turning to grab hold of her child’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong mom?” Lynn asked.

“Mr. Holden just called me that he had to leave for an emergency for work. Looks like there won’t be a party today.” Pamela spoke as she slid her shoes on, Lynn let out a small gasp.

“That mean’s Cove is all alone on his birthday!” They exclaimed.

“Exactly. Now go wake up your Mommy, I’ll bring Cove over here.” Pamela opened the door as Lynn ran up the stairs to go wake Noelani up.

Cove was taken by surprise when his front door opened. A tiny part of him wanted it to be his dad, and say ‘surprise buddy! I didn’t forget about your birthday!’ but there was no such thing. Instead, one of Lynn’s moms was at the door - a sympathetic look in her eyes.

“Hey Cove.” She spoke, walking over to where he was sitting at the counter island. “I got a call from your dad that he had an emergency. Thought I’d come pick you up to spend the day with us.” Cove looked away from her and back down to his breakfast that he’d barely touched. “Come on, we’ll take you out for breakfast since we know it’s your birthday.” His eyes widened as he heard those words.

“Y- you know it’s my birthday?” Cove questioned in a tiny voice “I thought that everyone forgot.” Pamela’s heart broke for the poor kid.

“No way. Lynn was practically off the walls with excitement this morning. Your dad too, told us to make it a good day for you in his message.” Pamela never really lied, but this time it was needed - as the kid already had a hard enough time with his father. Cliff deserved this much. Cove nodded and moved to hop off the chair that he was in. His bright pink cast still on his arm, only a month or so until he’d get it off. Pamela helped him wash and put away all of the leftovers and pots/pans. She was the neat freak between her and noelani, but it seemed that Cove didn’t mind it and was just following along.

As soon as the two of them got back over to the Cho house, they were greeted with quite a surprise. A few balloons, a banner, and some streamers were decorating the main living area. Lizzie and Lynn both popped confetti-poppers and Lynn shouted “surprise!” as the pair of them came through the door. Cove entered with a visible look of surprise on his face, though that soon was supplemented by a bright blush when he noticed Lynn’s bright expression.

“Noelani!” Pamela exclaimed, “How did you put this all together so quickly?” Noelani shook her head, her sprawling curls bouncing as she moved.

“Not my idea.” Noelani spoke between yawns , “Lynn was like a tornado. I trust you’ll give me a real explanation.” When Pam smiled at her and nodded, she nodded as well.

“Iranalloverthehousetogetallthisstuffforyou!Itsallmostlymyoldbirthdaystuffandsomeoflizziesbutwedon’tmindoratleastIdontmind!Imsogladyourehereicantwaittocelebratewithyou!” Lynn’s voice went a mile a minute, making Cove’s (and their mom’s) head spin.

“Thank you lynn.” Cove spoke softly, cutting off anything else that Lynn was going to spew out. Lynn just kept quite and smiled brightly at him.

“Since Lynn looks already dressed, how about the three of us change and we’ll all go out to take Cove for birthday breakfast?” Pamela offered, to which Lizzie and Lynn nodded vigorously. Noelani offered a smile and was the first one to head up the stairs.

“Do you think we can go to that pancake place that has the confetti pancakes?” Lizzie asked, looking hopefully at her Mom.

“If that’s what Cove wants for breakfast, then sure.” Pamela answered. When the eyes turned back to him, Cove nodded with the smallest of smiles.

“I like pancakes.” He spoke simply, and with a cheer from Lizzie - Pamela and Lizzie both headed to get changed. The two people left in the living area were Lynn and Cove.

“Happy birthday Cove.” Lynn spoke with a smile. For some reason that he wasn’t sure of, it made him feel a lot better , their well-wishes. He didn’t quite know what to say but-

“Thank you Lynn.” A blush creeped across his face as he followed Lynn to the couch, the two of them hopping up to wait for the others.

“I got you a birthday gift, but you’ll have to wait before we get back. Mommy said I couldn’t bring it with us to breakfast.” Cove nodded and the two of them talked quietly about this or that , mostly breakfast preferences, until the full family was ready to head out and go get breakfast.

Breakfast went well enough. Cove got birthday pancakes, but really really didn’t want the waiters to sing to him - which was perfectly fine for the family (ok well lizzie wanted to hear the song, but her protests were shot down). After they returned to the house, Lynn’s moms went to go have an ‘adult talk’ and Lizzie ran off to her own room, leaving Cove and Lynn alone once again.

“Oooh!” Lynn exclaimed as they ran up the stairs ,with Cove following slowly behind them. “I can’t wait to give the gift to you. I worked really hard to find the best thing. Ok, things, to give you!” Cove could feel the excitement radiate off of Lynn, and despite how sad he still felt, was smiling a little at the thoughtfulness of the day so far. He followed close behind, and all the way to Lynn’s room - which was much neater compared to his bedroom at home.

He sat down on Lynn’s bed at their request, and watched as Lynn grabbed a medium-sized box from their closet. It was all nicely wrapped up, with a bow and everything. He marveled at it in awe as Lynn set it down next to him.

“Go ahead!” They motioned to the package. “Open it!” Cove rather expertly tore through the wrapping paper, and the ribbons, to get to the present inside.

It was a box of various things. There was a small box that held a bracelet similar to the one Lynn always wore, a dolphin keychain, a stuffed monkey with sunglasses and surfboard, and another small box that took up half of the medium-sized one. As Cove took that box out, he felt that there was something important in this one. Maybe it wasn’t literal gold, or diamonds, but he got the feeling that it was important either way.

In the smaller box was a set of various scavenged objects: shells and sea-glass mostly, that were all gathered from the beach that laid just down at the end of the street. It was all so good, Cove thought to himself. But then he realized something. Lynn’s special sea-finds box was gone. That meant...

“Lynn I-” He started, but Lynn cut Cove off before he could say anything.

“I want you to have this. It's got lots of good stuff.” Lynn’s smile was wide and brilliant as they motioned for him to keep the box.

“but it’s your-”

“I can get more. It will be much more fun to gather with you now.” With those words from Lynn, Cove let the matter rest. He looked back down at the box and smiled, more to himself than to anyone else. He still felt really bad about his dad forgetting his birthday, but Lynn was there to make him feel better. She set up a surprise and got him the best gift ever. There was no way that he could ever thank her properly.

“Thank you Lynn.” That would have to do for now, but Cove would spend the rest of his life thanking them for always being there for him, for always waiting for him, and for being right by his side whenever he needed them. Lynn never had to do any of the things they did for him, but they did so willingly and without question. So, for that, it was a great first birthday in Sunset Bird.

[ if you’re wondering; Cove’s dad felt really awful about the whole thing and managed to get his son a great gift... which was why he’d been super busy lately. He’d wanted to get his son a fishtank and supplies. Noelani and Pamela gave him an earful though.. ]

#our life beginnings & always #Our Life #cove holden #Our life Mom #Our Life Mommy #noelani #pamela #mywriting

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fleckcmscott · 4 years ago

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Stepping Stones - Chapter 2

Chapter links: 1

Summary: Y/N and Arthur share a delightful life, one that isn’t perfect but wholly theirs. When his struggles take a serious turn, she's surprised by the toll it exacts. Though the steps they'll have to take aren't easy, walking them together makes all the difference.

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Struggles with mental illness

Words: 3,739

A/N: Once again, a heartfelt thanks to @sweet-nothings04 for offering to beta-read this story and her encouragement. Her contributions have been invaluable! Also, thank you guys for your support! I hope you continue to enjoy this story. And don’t worry: there may be angst - but there’s love, too.

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask! I’m still working on requests and Way Back Home!

Y/N wasn't used to being searched. It'd last happened at the District Courthouse when she'd gotten in the wrong line and nearly wound up in the jury room for a murder trial. At least the stout woman in Arkham's visitor entrance lobby was more pleasant than the bailiffs.

Unassuming in a white polo shirt and black pants, her nametag introduced her as Gladys, and the split "I Can Help!" sticker along the top cemented her as a fixture. She was friendly for a Gothamite, commenting on the sunny weather while unceremoniously dumping the contents of Y/N's handbag onto a plastic table pad. Asking about the ride over as she politely ignored tampons and confiscated a nail file. She spelled Y/N's name back to her before jotting it on the sign-in sheet and offered a genuine smile. "You have a nice time with your husband, dear. Just check out with me before you leave."

Visitor's badge pinned above her left breast, Y/N adjusted the collar of her red silk blouse, ensured the heart pendent around her neck was centered, and pushed through the door marked "Visitation."

Her kitten heels click-clacked across the checkerboard linoleum floor. The cafeteria was large, like an elementary school gymnasium without the scoreboards. Lack of funding had turned the once pristine walls to the off-white of a bathtub that had seen too few scrubbings. Large windows dotted them in sets of two, each covered with grate from the inside. Metal fans were riveted to their frames, a poor attempt to compensate for the lack of fresh air. To her left, six rows of steel tables stretched halfway across the room, about a third full of staff and patients, family members and friends. A metal buffet stood to her right, along with a sign stating a menu of beef cutlets and gravy would be served at 5:30 PM. A pony wall separated a family area on the far end. She spotted a patient with his wife and daughter watching cartoons together, ones that were old enough for Y/N to have grown up on.

It struck her how average the place felt, similar to the hospital back home she'd spent far too many hours in. It made sense: the people here were patients like any other, even if they were under lock and key. When she headed to the aluminum coffee urn on a rickety steel cart, there was a woman, around thirty, making conversation with a new wave chick, holding a ragged teddy bear and pulling her hair. Their eyes met and Y/N attempted a friendly smile. Once she'd purchased two cups, she sat by a window and crossed her legs, foot swinging back and forth as she sipped the stale liquid.

She tried to quell her nervous anticipation. Due to his time of admittance, Arthur's forty-eight-hour observation period had stretched late into Thursday night, well after visiting hours. Tasks big and small had punctuated the wait. One of Arthur's clients called to confirm a birthday party, and Y/N, hazy from lack of sleep, explained there'd been a family emergency.

Then it dawned on her that she'd have to find Arthur's gig list, which meant rummaging through his desk, a private space she'd respected since presenting him with it for their anniversary. Thank god he no longer locked the drawers, because she had no idea where he kept the key. (There were only so many hiding places in their three-room apartment, but she had no desire to search every nook and cranny.) The yellow legal pad resided in the top left drawer, under a prop catalog and kraft paper notebook. After ringing Gary and asking him to fill in ("I'm not sure I can do all these, but I can mention them at HaHa's." "That'd be great but don't get yourself in trouble. And, please, leave out Randall."), she telephoned eight households and three businesses with his contact information and apologies.

She worked extra hours in the evening to make up for the time she'd inevitably take off when Arthur was home, an arrangement that wasn't strictly legal, but she didn't see the harm in. Her colleagues graciously ignored the number of personal calls she made, to ask how Arthur was doing and learn about policies. While he wasn't yet rational, staff said, he was cooperative. Well, mostly cooperative. He'd eaten breakfast and referred to everyone as sir or ma'am, but he'd also caused a ruckus when he'd come to and found his wedding ring missing. They'd made an exception to the no jewelry rule and given it back. Personal clothing wasn't permitted, either, besides underwear, and toiletries were out of the question. It irked her - he deserved the dignity of his own hairbrush - but she didn't want to single him out by arguing for further favors. So she shuttled over a week's worth of briefs on her lunch break, chest tight as she gave it to the man with headphones at reception.

Despite the setting, despite the weight of not knowing what mood he'd be in, a thrill bubbled through her veins. Whenever a silhouette appeared behind the glue chip glass of the patient entrance, her pulse skipped. Y/N knew it was silly to expect a lot this first visit but she couldn't help it. She missed him. She missed him. Like it had been thirty days instead of three.

It took about six minutes for the door to crack an inch, and a full ten seconds for it to open completely. An orderly propped his weight against it, pointing in her general direction with his head. She stood and smoothed her palm down her A-line skirt, ensured the hem was at her knee. Maybe it was selfish, perhaps even foolish, but she hoped the surprise would be a highlight of Arthur's day, make him feel better, and she hoped seeing him would be one of hers. He was still her partner, after all. Still her Arthur. That would never change.

Clad in white scrubs and white shoes and about twenty feet away, Arthur stepped over the threshold and scanned the room. She gave him a modest wave when she caught his eye. His approach was more tentative than she would have liked, his steps shorter than usual, fists balled at his sides. As he drew closer, she noted the oiliness of his hair, the two-day black and grey stubble on his chin. His crow's feet had grown deeper, his eyelids slightly purple. Exhaustion dripped from every pore. The cut on his forehead had scabbed over into a thin line, quite modest considering its origin and how much he'd bled.

But he was as beautiful to her as always. The hint of a smile tipped her mouth. "Hi, Arthur."

"Hi," he said lowly. A reservation she barely recognized clouded his light green irises.

Part of her began to suspect popping in like this had been a mistake. Giving up wasn't in her nature, however, especially when it came to the love of her life. She forged ahead, closing the gap between them. Dr. Kellerman had advised her to let Arthur set the pace of their visits, to offer support while respecting his boundaries. Yet, touching him had become as vital to her as breathing, and it didn't occur to her to ask for permission before she reached to cup his face.

His skin felt papery under her fingertips, and red, flakey spots of dermatitis bloomed next to his nose and below his eye. He smelled of cheap bar soap and detergent, though whiffs of his woodsy masculine scent lurked underneath. But his clothes were clean and fit him well, better than half his own wardrobe. "I'm so happy to see you," she said, tracing his sharpened cheeks.

He nodded weakly, lips pursed into a grimace of disbelief. "Good."

"I got us some coffee. We can sit here or on one of the sofas."

"Here's fine."

She took his hand and led him to their table, itching for him to entwine their fingers, lamenting a little when he didn't. While he followed closely, his posture radiated tension like an oven radiated heat. Rather than the gait they'd adopted over the years, he moved as if he was afraid to touch her, as if he feared she'd disappear. Or reject him. Once he was situated and stirring sugar into his cup, she sat beside him and bumped their legs, refusing to let his fears go unchallenged. "How's your room?"

"It's okay. Just me. I'm not there much." He blew lightly on his steaming brew. "I haven't seen this part of the hospital before."

Y/N arched her brow. "No?"

"Penny had trouble getting over here to visit. When I had episodes."

Flabbergasted, a huff of disapproval escaped her. Arthur had been in out Arkham six or seven times, and Penny hadn't made it over once? According to Arthur, she'd been sick for a while, but what about twenty years ago? Even later, they hadn't had any money, which meant she would've had to care for herself while he was away. If she had had the wherewithal to go through the process of committing her son, couldn't she have at least called a cab? Y/N pushed her ire aside, not wanting it to affect Arthur. "Did you see your therapist today?"

"Mhm."

"Is he good? Does he listen to you?"

"He's fine."

She took a long drink. "Did you get the underwear I brought over?"

"Yeah." he sighed, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. "They wrote my name on the waistband."

"I'll get new ones," she said, tapping her chin in contemplation, opting for a little cheer. "Donahue's has a racy number from Mad Mod. How'd you feel about zig-zag bikinis in maroon?" Instead of the laugh she'd craved, the incredulous smirk he saved for ridiculous suggestions, his knees quaked, bouncing and bouncing, freshly wound springs in bleached cotton.

None of this was going as she'd pictured.

Self-consciousness was atypical for her, a personality trait she'd shed in her late twenties after a failed marriage and the beginning of her parents' declines. Being with Arthur felt secure, open, even during his worst days. When he'd discovered his mother's Arkham file, learned the details of his abuse. Or the weeks after she'd passed and any chance of finding out more about himself, the truth about his father and chance to get a crumb of paternal affection, had died along with her.

Gathered at this table with her husband and bad coffee, old insecurities returned with the force of a subway careening at full speed. She sought to encourage him but didn't want to dismiss his feelings, harken back when he'd been burdened with "Happy." Her questions were obviously getting on his nerves - she was at a loss as to how he'd react to more of them. Their banter had vanished. The clues she had to follow were based on an old map, comprised of well-worn paths to joy she could walk with her eyes closed. Now those paths were overgrown with weeds.

But she wouldn't stop trying to trim them. Some shears were in reach: a woman's magazine lay abandoned on a nearby table, famous for its relationship quizzes and bedroom advice. She snagged it, scooted her chair closer to Arthur, and flipped through the glossy pages until the headline "Are You Meant To Be?" screamed in bright pink font. She cleared her throat and read aloud. "'You and your husband are shipwrecked on a desert island. You can take any household item with you. What item would you bring?'" She paused, then went with what first came to mind. "Toothbrush. I can't expect you to kiss me when I-"

"Why are you acting like this?"

Her gaze locked on him. "Like what?"

"Like I haven't fucked everything up."

Automatically, she reached for his thigh, not heeding the angry twitch of his jaw. "You haven-"

He batted her arm away, inadvertently knocking the magazine to the floor. "Don't lie to me," he rasped. "I don't like you seeing me like this. I don't want you to have to come visit and pretend." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, an anger she recognized as shame dripping from every word. "Can you please just go?"

Pain lanced through her, pain she hadn't felt since her father, deep in the throes of dementia, had accused her of stealing from him. Her lashes lowered to hide her hurt. Arthur acting like this was proof of how out of sorts he was, how much he was struggling with his illnesses. But it didn't make his behavior any easier to take, even if she firmly believed it should. She had to try to accept him as he was in the moment. To forgive him and herself for pressing him too far, too quickly. To listen to his request for time, the way he'd listened to hers after the Murray show, giving her the gift of patience and understanding. A gift he also deserved.

Pushing herself to stand, she glanced at the orderly and lay a gentle palm on Arthur's back. To her relief, he didn't retreat. "I'm here if you need me," she said softly. "If you feel up to it, give me a ring. We could both use a joke or two." Fingertips caressed his distended shoulder, and she pecked the crown of his head, breathed in the oily musk of his scalp. Not entirely pleasant but him all the same. "We'll see each other soon. Get some rest and remember I love you."

~~~~~

"This woman wandered in off the street the other day. Pointy-toed shoes, fur coat, pillbox hat like she thinks she's Jackie Kennedy..." Perched on Y/N's side of the bed, Patricia dunked her orange pekoe teabag, gave it a good squeeze, laid it on her saucer. "She wanted to sue the Wayne Estate for damages to her Bentley, because Thomas Wayne had broken a legally binding oral agreement - she must have read a legal thriller and gotten haughty - to fix the potholes in Old Gotham when he was mayor. I told her to complain to Public Works, but she decided to camp out at your old desk to clip her nails. Finally, Matt had enough and offered her a phone call to Gotham PD or ten bucks for her trouble." She shook her head with a chuckle. "What a jackass. Retirement can't come soon enough."

"Don't wish your life away," Y/N retorted, inadvertently quoting a pamphlet she'd gotten from the Arkham gift shop, "Care for the Caregiver." The title had made her balk: Arthur bathed himself, fed himself, knew who she was. But it had been a straw to hold onto, albeit feebly. She retrieved a curved, wooden hanger from the closet and stuck one end in the arm of her freshly ironed blouse. "Besides, you've been working since you were sixteen, right? I give it a year before you'd go stir-crazy."

"Actually, I've been thinking about taking a class or two at the learning center," said Patricia.

"Oh, really? What kind? Pottery, advanced baking, conversational Spanish?"

"How to find nicer friends."

Hand on her hip, Y/N smirked over her shoulder to find Patricia's teacup raised for a toast. "Let me know what you learn," Y/N said, hoisting the laundry basket onto the bed. "I could use a few pointers." She batted the older woman with a dress sock, then fished for its companion. She shook them out. Aligned the cuffs and toes, smoothed the nylon with the side of her hand, folded the fabric into thirds. The top drawer's left ball-bearing slide stuck when she tried to pull it open, and she made a mental note to ask Arthur to take a look at it.

Without warning, a profound sense of loss swept over her, flushing her cheeks, her forehead. He'd been gone almost a week, the longest they'd been apart aside from conferences and training. Her days had been blessedly busy but dragged on nonetheless, slow as the secondhand on her watch when the battery had to be replaced.

Arthur had gotten in the habit of leaving a note whenever he had an early gig or errand to run, just a few words stating where he was, that he'd be home later, that he loved her. Though she knew he was in Arkham, she couldn't stop her heart from expecting one when she made morning coffee. She ached to pull him inside before he lit a second cigarette, and for his teasing kisses when he'd resist. The way he brushed his teeth from side-to-side, eschewing her method of small circles and daily flossing. Last night, a hot flash had kept her awake, and she'd longed for the feel of his strong, slender hands rubbing refrigerated lotion into her calves, a trick he'd learned to quiet his mother when she'd gone through what he politely referred to as The Change.

Y/N had never wanted to love someone so much she needed them, but Arthur had made it safe. And now here she was, anguishing over a stubborn piece of furniture. She gave the knob another good, hard heave until it popped off into her palm. With a groan, she slapped it on the top of the dresser, between his wallet and her jewelry box.

A gentle hold on her elbow halted her. "The clothes'll keep," Patricia said.

The compassion in her voice, subtle chords that would sound like judgement to others, loosened Y/N's stance. Granted permission for her to take a break from coping and give into grief. Slinking down onto the mattress, she picked up Arthur's blue house pants from the mound of panties and trousers and hugged them to her breast.

"Your anniversary is coming up," Patricia continued. "Will Arthur be home for it?"

"Yes. Three weeks is all the insurance will pay for, and Dr. Kellerman said we were lucky to get that." Most patients were discharged after two, even if they had nowhere else to go.

"How is he? Do you think he'll be ready then?"

"I'm not sure. He barely comes to the phone." She'd tried letters, too. Written on her office letterhead, declarations of her support and affection that were as stilted as the motions she regularly drafted. Something for him to read when they couldn't speak, when they couldn't touch. But he hadn't responded.

Although Y/N was the sole person he'd added to his list of allowed visitors, he hadn't signed the release. Sure, she'd learn the details of his care if a court remanded him, but she wasn't about to have him declared legally incompetent, not unless everything went to shit. But she had deduced his schedule by calling and asking if he could come to the phone. He's in group, Mrs. Fleck, the charge nurse had let slip. Or, You can try in an hour. He should be out of one-on-one by then.

Therapy three times a day. Safety and daily living skills. Goal setting before bed. No wonder he hadn't had the energy to say good night.

"I know what you're going through," Patricia said. She stretched to put her empty teacup on the nightstand. "When Robert got back from Korea, he kept his distance. Buried himself in starting his business, was gone most nights on extra late repair jobs, worked, worked, worked. It was nearly a year before he really came home. But he made it and Arthur will, too."

The intimacy behind the disclosure was a welcome invitation, a hook that tugged at Y/N's core and confirmed honesty would be all right. She drew a shaky breath, fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of Arthur's pajamas. "I thought I'd seen everything. Losing my mother, going out of my mind with my father. Those were finalities I couldn't prevent." Rapid blinking fought the wetness of her eyes. She swiped at them with the heel of her hand. "If you had seen him, Patricia... I just hope Arthur understands. I don't want him to think I wanted him to leave."

"Listen to me." Patricia adopted her mentor tone and hugged her tight around the middle. "There's no way he'd believe that. Remember when we doubled at Kao Wah? When we were in the restroom, and he ordered your favorite dish without having to ask what it was? He adores you." She swept her hand through the air as if she could sweep away Y/N's woes. "You promised to take care of him through everything. You did what you had to to keep him safe. You couldn't have done anything else, Y/N. Don't doubt yourself."

After some moments Y/N nodded. "You know, my parents had a swimming hole on our property. When I was young, I used to skip stones across it and make wishes. For my doll's arm to mend, for my parents to say safe, for my sister's surgeries to go well." She chuckled and dabbed at her cheeks with Arthur's house pants. "I guess it was like praying, which I never had use for." The slightest smile edging her lips, she turned to Patricia. "Let's go to Gotham Park and throw some rocks."

~~~~~

The next morning, eleven percent of her worries cast away by a currently sore right arm, Y/N walked past Sherwood Florist, a closet of a shop around the corner from her office. Storefront freshly washed, robust floral arrangements on display in large, spotless windows, and an owner in horn-rimmed glasses checking the temperature of the nearest cooler, she decided to stop in. Yes, the florist told her, an expression of dubious curiosity on his face. They delivered to Arkham. Just include the patient's full name and ward in the address, and it'd be sent this afternoon.

She chose a squat, plastic vase filled with daisies and a yellow enclosure card with a bumblebee in the lower left corner. A bit cutsie for her taste, but it was the only neutral choice among birthdays and congratulations. She pondered what to write, pushing back the urge to ask him to reach out. A minute later, she put her pen to the cardstock. "I miss you like thread misses a needle. (Good thing you're the comedian - that was terrible.) You're not alone in this. You have my whole heart. - Y/N."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics @iartsometimes

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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the-darklings · 4 years ago

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coa one year later & self-reflection

(*drags out a creaky metal chair and plops down on it heavily*)

Hi. It’s me, ya boi skinny--

Wait, wrong one. Do over.

Hi, it’s me, Kat, and I’m not dead. Clearly. Today being one year anniversary of COA has kinda put me in a reflective mood, so I guess I decided to sit down and just...talk about some things, thoughts and feelings I’ve been bottling inside for a hot sec. Especially given how radio silent I have gone on here and people deserve a bit of perspective.

And before anyone starts worrying, it’s all good, and I’m still around and currently in good health for the most part.

So, let’s take it back to the start. Regardless of how dramatic it may sound, we need to go back a year for that.

By technicality alone, COA actually turned one year old on October 12th. That’s when the first part was posted. However, the reason I’m treating today as the aforementioned birthday is simple: I had no intention of this story ever being more than a short two-parter. I told this to the discord gang already but COA was only going to have two parts. V was going to die in Tokyo and the rest of the story follows glimpses of John throughout the movies and it’s her ghost that haunts him. Skipping ahead, it was going to have a bittersweet ending of John eventually dying, having completed his task, only to be greeted by V, Daisy and Helen in the afterlife. A peace of sorts. Then, I realised that, well, no. I have more to say on this world and intrigue about this placeholder character V kept growing.

November 1st happened and I made a very last minute call to continue COA but with the added pressure of doing it during NaNoWriMo 2019. And boy did I. Most of the story was figured out during that very intense month. I posted Part 2 on this day a year ago because I was so eager to share it. Perhaps, in retrospect, a bit too eager.

For those of you who may not know this, I work as a writer full time for my actual every day job. I’m the main writer for an original webcomic called In the Bleak Midwinter on Webtoon.com and have been for almost two years now. Getting what is essentially your dream job is amazing. I’m very lucky on that front but it also taught me stark realities of having your job and only hobby overlap. It’s a dangerous creative mix. Especially because I was not used to being constraint in what I create or the feeling like I have to please anyone else. Writing as a job is a whole other avenue of creative exhaustion. I love my job a lot and am very, very lucky to have it but it doesn’t change the fact that those initial stages made me fall back on COA a lot for creative freedom that I craved so desperately. To an unhealthy degree looking back on it now.

But going back to November last year. NaNo time. I did it. Finished on the 24/25th I believe. A juicy final count of 52k+. All while maintaining a weekly update schedule for a fic that usually hit around 10k per update, if not more, even during those early days. Add writing an original story on top of that. Writing every day for hours on end (we are talking 10-12hr days) without any time for other hobbies or time for myself in general. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing. Losing weight and sleep in the process. I think the thing that convinced me that I should continue doing so is the fact that the outpour of support for COA ended up surpassing anything I ever expected or even dared to hope for. I’m not a huge numbers person but the outpour of love and just sheer investment in the story and characters blew me away. John Wick fandom is on the smaller side and has been going through downtime when I posted COA so my expectations were...well, small tbh. I like keeping expectations low to avoid any disappointments in general. But I’ve also always had an issue of being a massive 0 or 100 kind of person. If I love something, it consumes me. In this case, it brought me as much joy and freedom as much as it was steadily pushing me towards the ultimate crash.

That being said, I can’t thank you all enough for every comment, like, reblog and message and fanart. You’re the reason I got this far. With your support. It brightened some really dark days for me.

But.

To be frank, it’s never been about you guys. I never wrote or pushed because I felt like I had to appease anyone. That creative mindset is pure poison and I long since learned to let go of it. I kept pushing and kept working myself to the bone because I liked it. I liked how reading peoples’ responses made me feel. I liked the addictive nature of reading all the comments and theories after an update. I loved the idea of brightening peoples’ days and giving them something to cheer them up after what might have been a shitty day. Even if that was at expense of my own time/well being. But for a long time, it wasn’t. I love writing a lot but facts remain facts.

It was beyond unhealthy and burnout wasn’t a question of if but when and that when was approaching at neck-breaking speed.

So we come to the end of November. Part 4 has just come out. People were invested and I was invested alongside them. I was just finishing up Part 5 which (back then) was the biggest single chapter I’ve ever written and god I still recall my sheer dread because that was the beginning of Santino being established as a LI. Looking back on that now, it’s downright hilarious how worried I was about the reception of him and V together after John.

So honestly, I hit burnout at around Part 8. Because that’s the first time I recall struggling with writing a chapter. Part 8 came out on December 28th. I had a brief break for holidays. But my mistake was not taking longer back then. Because I continued writing with a barely healed burnout. Followed by almost a year of struggling and continuously creating through that state. It wasn’t like I eased off the pressure, either. Oh, no. The chapters grew in size, the world and the characters with it. AUs amassed quickly and while I adore every single one - again, I didn’t know how to pace myself well enough.

I’m spiteful though. The more the chapters struggled the more I pushed against the burnout. By the time Chicago arrived, however, I knew I was in trouble. I ended up writing 43k+ in a span of 2 months, I believe. And while to some it may not seem like a lot given the time frame, it’s a lot when you’re burnout to a crisp & writing an original story for work + deadlines. Which I was burned out and then some. Chicago was something I was looking forward to writing for months. I have built it up since Part 4. It was a long time coming. So while I’m still proud of it, I would be lying if I said that some scenes were not sacrificed for the sake of keeping to my invisible schedule that no one but me actually cared about. You guys have always been patient. I never felt pushed into anything. It’s always only ever been me doing the harm.

Chicago was the downwards spiral for me mentally. I felt like I was failing to live up to my own expectations. That people were drifting away from it. I was plagued by the thought that the story I poured so much into was falling apart and growing weaker. Which this has always been an issue with me: I am my own harshest critic. Always have been. In fact, I’m a downright mean little fucker when it comes to just tearing at myself. I know writing is for fun - and it is - but I still like the idea of being proud of my work which only made everything worse despite the love each update received.

This takes us to the beginning of June. Specifically, June the 2nd. Or, as I like to call it: Kat Makes Another Impulsive Decision but This One Actually Works Out For the Better. On this day, I created the COA Discord server. And damn, I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting when I did ngl. I did it for fun and as an escape more so than anything. But somehow it ended up being the best decision I made in a long while. I know some of you are reading this. So love you lots, dorks. It’s such a privilege to be able to call so many of you my friends even outside of COA now. That little community has given me some of the best memories from this year and helped me to crawl out of my own metaphorical pit I was stuck in. Mentally, I’m doing much better than I did beginning of this summer. Which could be summed up as a constant self-hatred cycle and a feeling of inadequacy.

That, however, does not mean my burnout magically disappeared. If anything Chapter 17 just put a nail in the coffin so to speak. 2020 has been a shitty year just across the board for obvious reasons I don’t need to go into here but that can only partially be attributed to my mental state. Chapter 17 was...exhaustive. To say the least. But I was determined to stick with my vision and not split it up. I was also starting to be a bit more forgiving towards myself in terms of how long I may take to write it thanks to guys on discord though the feeling of failure and worry never quite faded fully. I’m proud of Part 17. Truly. But that was also when I hit rock bottom creatively on COA. It drained me completely.

I tried writing Part 18 for weeks after, day in and day out, not getting past the first scene and hating every word I wrote. So I took a deep breath and stopped. Figured I let it marinate and wait instead of trying to piece one of the most crucial chapters in this story like some Frankenstein monster two sentences at the time.

So my solution was simple: give myself some distance from it and write other things. Get my spark back. Of course that’s always a good idea. Having multiple creative escapes is the best thing you can do for yourself creatively. There was just one tiny little problem.

I was still burned out. Still am. The problem went deeper than just being burned out over COA. I was burned out over writing itself.

Which is an issue for a person who only has writing as a creative outlet.

I don’t have any other way to express myself. So I was stuck in a runt, trying to write because it’s the only thing that makes me genuinely happy even when I really shouldn’t have. And let me tell you. It’s a shitty fucking feeling. My burnout worsened. I had a thousand ideas but every time I tried to get them down it felt forced, fragmented, and weak. Repetitive and dry. Now, this is also in part because English isn’t my native language, so my vocab is limited as a result, but I hit that sweet rock bottom in that regard, too.

So, I worked on V (but in her OC form Clara), Lucien and The Elites. All those characters have grown so much since you last read about them. I have multiple original projects planned down the line that will feature all of them existing in their own world, with their own stories and no longer constrained by JW canon.

Which, finally, takes us to the end of October and beginning of November 2020.

I was convinced that the best course of action was to do NaNo again but with an original story this time (involving V). Suffice to say, it took a grand total of maybe 5-6 days and hating every second of writing it while also feeling like this project I’m so passionate and excited to write (still am) is just...going down the toilet to be blunt, to realise I may have made the wrong call.

Still, the stubborn ass that I am, I pushed through. Convinced I can get into it if I just keep going. The realizations that I am sharing with you right now won’t have been possible if it hadn’t been for a rather curious turn of events about a week and a half ago.

I recently bought a gaming laptop, all in preparation for Cyberpunk 2077 dropping ofc. But, in the meantime, I kept recommending a game to a friend on the COA server. That game? Far Cry 5. (It’s a blast to play btw, just a side note.) And playing it brought back all the feelings of nostalgia from the days when I used to write for that fandom. So I revisited some old work. Checked the stuff I never published and that has been sitting ducks in my docs for months and hoo boy. Let me tell you it was a vibe check of the worst kind.

The stark difference in the prose and the ease with which it flowed was...startling. It made me remember why I love writing so much and how proud I used to be of what I wrote back in the day. Which is not to say I’m not proud now, but it was just such a sharp dip in quality it was impossible to ignore.

So I didn’t.

I paused NaNo, moving it to another month. I paused writing for everything but work, which with our season coming to an end I will also get a rest from soon, too. I kinda paused in general. For the first time in a while, I finally forced myself to switch off. Rest.

The reason why I haven’t been on here is simple: guilt and not having energy to be on here. I like making my blog a safe space for everyone. Similar to escape it has become for me. I couldn’t pretend I was fine when I wasn’t. I felt obliged to perform and being here became exhausting. I haven’t been checking my inbox. Haven’t done much of anything except occasionally dropping by and reblogging a random post so people know I’m alive.

And that’s that, folks. That’s where I am currently. Resting. Completely exhausted mentally but resting. Getting my energy back.

So where does that leave us, huh? If you read this far, dunno what to tell you. Thanks, I suppose. It’s still odd to think people actually care about my existence sometimes.

I know what you’re likely thinking, too. So does this mean COA is never gonna be finished? What is gonna happen to it? Are you abandoning it?

The answer: no. 17 out of 25 chapters and 250k+ in, I’m too far in not to give it a proper conclusion. Not because I owe it to anyone other than myself. I want this story to be a stepping stone for my future as a writer. I want to prove to myself that I can get this done and finish it. As of right now (as you can no doubt tell with how long it’s been since last update) it’s on a soft hiatus while I rest. This rest? Not sure how long it may last. Right now, my plan is till mid December at which point I will reevaluate. Ideally, I finish the year with an update. But my New Year’s resolution is to finish COA. That timeline has become a little more murky now but, again, ideally it’s within the first quarter of 2021. Will that happen? I don’t know. And I don’t want to make false promises, either.

All I’m saying is that it will be done. I’m just no longer sure how long, exactly, it may take me to reach that Epilogue. I don’t expect many people to stick around for however long it may take me, but if you do, thank you. Truly. I really and deeply mean that.

So what’s on the cards for this blog in the meantime? Well, CP77 is coming out in under a month (if it doesn’t get moved again lmao rip) and I expect that to be my soft return to posting my writing on here again. We will see where the muse takes me, if at all. Regardless though, I’m excited.

One doctorate thesis later, here we are at the end of this really long rambling session. I hope that this has given you some perspective on things going on behind the scenes. I spared you some of the gorier details but I think this post has been long overdue. I suppose I, myself, was just too unwilling to face these things despite knowing about them deep down for a while now. I’m too self-critical not to notice but acting on correcting this behavior has been a whole other matter clearly.

Thank you for reading this post, my writing in general, and supporting me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m still around. More is on the way in the future. I’ll be seeing you all real soon. And all my love to all of you.

Love,

- Kat.

#kat speaks #blog psa #i suppose

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liquorisce · 4 years ago

Text

reading between the lines (High School Years, Ch 2)

pairing: eren x mikasa (shingeki no kyojin) // mild erehisu, yumihisu

rating: t

summary: (modern au) Junior year is difficult, especially for Mikasa, because it turns out Eren’s decided to test the dating scene.

(banter, jealousy... and lots of feelings)

part 1 | read on ao3

A/N: this chapter has been a long time coming (5 years omg), and tbh I have a lovely anon to thank, who messaged me asking for a sequel to hsy, which made me actually want to put down my scrambled headcanons on paper. if you're reading this anon, i'm truly grateful for the push you gave me.

NOTE: although i intended a sequel, this is a COMPANION fic to chapter 1, it is meant to fill up the gaps in the story that the previous chapter didnt tell you. i hope you enjoy :)

Today was not one of Eren’s favourite days, for 2 reasons. For one, the day started off with … an encounter. Two, today they would be getting the results of their final trig assessment, which Eren knows perfectly well he didn’t have a chance of passing.

The ‘encounter’ happens pretty much without preamble.

…

“… Hey, it’s Eren, right?” He turns around from his conversation with Armin, to see the same guy from a couple of weeks ago, the one who was talking about Mikasa, and her pretty hair. (he wasn’t wrong)

“Yeah?” He does his best not to let the subconscious irritation seep into his tone.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day,” the guy with the oddly horse-shaped face says, “… My name’s Jean.”

“… Nice to meet you,” he says awkwardly delivering his dishonest words.

“… So, I wanted to be straight up with you,” Jean says, cheeks oddly pink. “About Mikasa… and you. I’ve heard some rumours, and I thought it best to address it with you directly, because I really don’t want to cause any trouble.” Clearing his throat, he says, “Are you guys… y’know, together?”

It’s in the way Jean speaks, he thinks, or the way he talks about Mikasa (or even thinks of her?) - it makes him want to ram his fist right in the middle of his ugly face. And because he was too busy clenching his fists to actually respond, Armin says with a laugh, “… Ah, don’t worry, Mikasa is totally single.”

And then proceeds to wink at Jean.

Eren can barely believe his eyes and ears. And once Jean is out of earshot he hisses, “… what the fuck, Armin?”

Armin blinks up at him innocently. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“… You didn’t have to encourage him,” Eren mumbles petulantly, when he admits to himself that Armin did, in fact, say nothing wrong.

“Erm, why not?” He sighs, “Look, I know you… worry about Mikasa,” Armin keeps his tone as neutral and veiled as possible, because worried is definitely not all Eren feels for Mikasa, “… but Jean is a good guy! And if anyone deserves attention from a good guy, it’s her.”

…

ii.

She finds him lurking near his locker, stuffing his crumpled papers in, probably wishing away their existence.

“That bad, huh?” She asks, hiding away her grin at his predictable reaction. Eren has always been predisposed too sulking - whether he was a 7-year-old who wasn’t the fastest on the field or 16-something and having just received his trigonometry results.

“… You look like you did just fine,” he mutters, not having to see the A+ on her paper to know that Mikasa had no problem acing the trig test (or any other test).

“You could just ask me for help, Eren. I could help you out for the retakes,” she offers softly, not for the first time.

He sighs. When he glances at her, dark eyes offering earnestly, he knows she means it without any pride or arrogance, but he isn’t able to suppress the prick of his own ego that has him mumbling, “… the mandatory remedial lessons should do just fine.”

…

iii.

When he shows up for class, he sees only a couple of others unfamiliar faces, so he curses under his breath at his own ineptitude towards mathematics for getting him in this situation and takes a spot at the back of the class.

The Support teacher - Erd, he calls himself, apparently too young to be addressed ‘Mr.’ or any of that - seems just as tired as the rest of them, sighing at the lack of answers, obviously frustrated at the complete lack of interest or gratitude of the teenagers in front of him.

So, 20 minutes into the 1-hour lesson, when the short blonde walks in, out-of-breath and apologetic, the sarcasm in his tone is biting. “You’ve already missed 1/3rd of this class, you might as well have stayed out entirely and practiced your cheer routines.”

Eren watches sympathetically at the visible cringe on Krista’s face and offers her an empathetic smile as she takes the seat next to him.

Later when they’ve been informed that the retake is just an assignment filled with proofs and average difficulty problems that they can do in pairs, he looks at Krista, the only known person in the room.

They weren’t that close, but they had quite a few mutual friends what with him playing basketball and her being part of the cheer team. So, when she says, “… see you at the library tomorrow evening?” with a pretty smile across her pretty features, he grins gratefully.

She doesn’t struggle with trig even half as much as he does. In fact, she seemed to be happy to do most of the work herself and explain her solutions - if he actually had the interest to understand them.

“I don’t understand,” he admits after she solves the 5th problem in a row effortlessly, “you seem to have everything down already. How come you didn’t pass the test?”

Her eyes skittered nervously away from him. “I was… sick,” she mutters. “I couldn’t really focus.”

He eyes her closely, observing the sudden change in her countenance. Usually Krista was all easy smiles, twinkle in her blue eyes. Now, she looks uneasy, unwell almost. Deciding it wasn’t his place to pry, “… Well, I guess I turned out to be the lucky one in all this,” he grins, “… I get to hang out with you and have you do my assignment.”

She rolls her eyes. To be honest, she’d enjoyed the past couple of evenings with him. Eren was easy to talk to, despite being somewhat of an airhead and being completely incapable of anything remotely math related. But regardless, he made her laugh and just about forget what happened the morning before she showed up for this test, with fresh tears choking her throat, and purpling bruises on her thighs.

“I guess you owe me then,” she quips back, smugly.

“… I definitely do,” he says smoothly, green eyes watching her in a way that makes her feel warm. “How can I make it up to you?”

Flustered, because she hadn’t expected his easy response, she mumbles, “… Dinner?” And with red cheeks hidden by her blonde bangs, she whispers, “I like pizza.”

…

iv.

She finds him at the end of the day, on one of the wooden tables outside the basketball court, chin resting in his hands, eyes glued to his laptop.

“… Hey,” she breathes, giggling when startled green eyes flash up to her, body jerking in surprise.

“Damn, you got me,” he grins, pushing his laptop away and leaning up for a brief kiss. She’s happy to return it, and she lets her fingers wind into his hair, enjoying it for a moment longer.

“Mmm,” she mumbles, “I saw you closing that browser window,” she teases, wrestling control of his laptop, “watcha lookin’ at?”

When she manages to open his browser history – much to Eren’s protest – her eyes widen. “Women’s dresses, spring collection??” She waggles her eyebrows at him.

“… It’s not for me,” he grumbles, deciding to make it painstakingly clear before Krista enthusiastically begins to tell him what dress would suit him the most – he knows his girlfriend, crossdressing would be absolutely acceptable, if not encouraged – and he watches her eyes feign disappointment.

“… Boring,” she sighs, rolling her pretty blue eyes, “I don’t see how you’re not curious about how you look in a dress,” – she gasps, hand flying over her mouth, “Wait… was that… a surprise… for me?”

“… Um,” Eren starts, intelligently, because the situation that was already awkward in his opinion, just became even more so. “Well,” he gulps, taking in the sparkle in her eyes, knowing fully well just how much she likes surprises, feeling guilty even thought he needn’t be, “itsformikasa.”

He hangs his head in apparent apology, but more so because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment flit across her features.

“… Oh.”

He chances a glance at her, and there’s no particular emotion per se, and it worries him, because she gets this faraway look in her eye sometimes, and he can’t really tell what’s going on, and they’ve only been together a few months and he’s not an expert in reading her silences –

“I see, is it for her birthday or something?” Her tone is measured, and she’s looking pointedly at the screen.

“Um… yeah.” Eren sighs, wondering what the hell was up with his own reaction. He had nothing to feel guilty about – where did that even come from anyway? – Mikasa’s his… family (or something). Shopping for her was normal. He did it every year. This isn’t something he needed to hide.

“Yeah, it’s next month,” he says, giving her a smile. There was no need for this to be awkward if he didn’t make it so. Besides, it wasn’t like he was buying her lingerie or something! (he brushed this thought aside faster than the red blush crept up his neck)

“Do you think, you could help me with it?” He blurts this out, partially in an attempt to distract the weird atmosphere, and also partially because he could really use the help.

Krista blinks. “Err, yeah. Sure.” She pulls up Mikasa’s profile on Instagram. “Let’s see,” she murmurs… Turtlenecks… Jeans… a ridiculously modest swimsuit that she wore to a pool party two years ago. The sexiest outfit on her entire profile was probably her in her tennis shorts and that had more to do with Mikasa’s undeniably ripped body than anything else.

She looks up at Eren, who’s still looking at her tentatively, green eyes unsure.

This whole thing was silly anyway, she thinks, offering him a genuine smile. He and Mikasa were close (and they lived together, which she did her best not to think about), but this wasn’t a surprise so it’s about time that it came up in some way in their relationship. In any case, she hadn’t felt any hostility from the raven-haired beauty and Eren was usually quite forthcoming about everything, so she didn’t really have anything to worry about.

“So, um, does she have a favourite colour or something?” She’s eager to kill the awkward mood and is grateful to see his shoulders visibly relax as he ponders.

“… Red, I think. Maybe, like, a darker shade. Sort of… maroon, y’know?” He thinks of the scarf he gave Mikasa when they were younger. It was a ratty, yet fluffy maroon thing which she was absolutely terrible at tying, but she wears it everywhere during the winter, even though his father had a bought her a better one at some point.

They peruse their options for a bit, and Krista picks out a deep red number, a shimmery satin one, with slinky straps and a slit that travels up an already high hemline. It wasn’t really a spring dress but more of a cocktail night outfit, and Eren is weirdly embarrassed thinking of Mikasa in it.

He eyes the screen incredulously. “… Somehow, I just can’t picture Mikasa wearing something like that.” He opens up another link, to a denim overall dress, “… now this, she would wear.”

“And that,” Krista retorts, “is why she’s still single. She has an amazing body; she should flaunt it.”

“… What would she wear it to?” Eren asks, unconvinced. (Also, what was wrong with Mikasa being single?) “… Student council meetings? Debate competitions?! I just,” –

“Parties, Eren,” she says, exasperated, “… it’s high school!”

“You know she doesn’t” –

“Drag her to some! C’mon, we’re going to be seniors soon. She’ll thank you for it!”

…

Six hours later, she’s closing up her shift at her part-time job. It’s a job she’d rather keep hidden – from her friends at school and the law – because she isn’t sure what the age policy was in these kinds of establishments. It worked out because it was close enough to home, and between her and the bartender, the tips compensated the poor wages. Plus, the bartender – a slightly older girl named Ymir with a pretty fringe and a sharp tongue – was genuinely fan to hang out with. And she was surprisingly protective of the small blonde, particularly with the rougher customers, whom Ymir scared off quite effectively with her glares.

“So,” she says, as she scrubs the counter clean, “… I helped my boyfriend buy a dress today.”

She doesn’t turn back to see her, but she can hear Ymir’s raised eyebrows as she says, cheekily, “… I didn’t realize you guys were into that stuff.”

Snorting, she replies, “Well that would be interesting. But no, it was for his, um, friend. Or something.” Or something, because sometimes Eren refers to Mikasa as his best friend, sometimes his family, and sometimes it just felt like… something else, basically.

She turns around to look at Ymir, who says nothing, continuing to rinse the rest of the glasses. “Her name’s Mikasa,” she continues, her voice getting oddly unsure, “They’ve known each other forever. They even… live together.”

“… What,” Ymir stares at her in disbelief.

“It’s not like that,” Krista finds herself sounding defensive, “Eren’s dad is her guardian… or something. Has been for some years. So, it’s not like they moved in together…”

She elects to skip the part where Eren’s dad is a doctor with Doctors without Borders and is barely home for more than a couple of months a year. She didn’t like the look Ymir was giving her anyway.

“So… they’re like brother-sister or what?”

“No,” she says, realizing that the word came out more vehement than she intended. But she knows that was definitely not the way Eren saw their relationship.

“… Krista,” Ymir starts, and the blonde can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s going to get all protective on her, “… I know you’re in high school, and… you’re dating – as you should – but you don’t have to waste your time on shady boys.”

At this she laughs because, “Eren’s not shady, he’s a nice guy,” –

“… You could get anyone you want; I mean look at you, you’re beautiful.”

The defense that was bubbling up in her throat suddenly stilled, because there’s something about the way Ymir just said that – called her beautiful – earnestly, quietly, and it made her feel funny. It took her breath away for a very brief second and replaced it with a warm flush that creeps up her neck.

It’s strange, she’s heard it before from so many boys with obvious motivations; Eren’s always calling her pretty, and complimenting her eyes or whatever… But when Ymir said it, and looked at her like that, honey brown eyes, deep with unnamed emotion, all she could do was avert her eyes.

…

vi.

It’s 7pm and the library’s home only to the nerds by now. The librarian is lax (and underpaid) enough to ignore the low buzz of two over-enthusiastic AP chemistry students that grates on Mikasa’s ears.

Ordinarily she’d just plug her earphones in and ignore the world to focus on the assignment at hand. But today she accepts anything to distract her from the scene earlier at home. And even though Armin’s sitting right next to her, supposedly doing his own thing, she doesn’t miss the worried glances he sends her every now and then, which she really doesn’t want to address.

Her feelings for Eren were a well-known secret by now, just as well-known as the fact that he clearly didn’t return those feelings, so she wasn’t particularly in the mood for Armin’s indulgent pity… regardless of how well-intentioned it was.

So, when its 8pm and the librarian is shooing them out, and she bumps into Jean, she’s grateful for the few extra minutes of conversation surrounding absolutely nothing important.

When they continue to the parking lot, their conversation having progressed from awkward conversation starters to an animated discussion on Jean’s tennis form, Armin’s well and truly realized that he has no place here.

After Armin’s said his goodbyes and Mikasa recognizes that she doesn’t mind staying away from home and possibly Eren and Krista in the middle of their 5th round, she asks Jean, “… so do you like Chinese food?”

…

When she walks in a little after 10 pm, cheeks cold from the night air, there’s a small grin on her cheeks, because she’s made a new friend today, whose company she genuinely enjoyed.

But when she enters the living room to see Eren fast asleep on the couch, she finds herself staring in the face of the reality she’d tried so hard to escape. It’s difficult to ignore the ruffled quality of his brown hair, mussed up in a way that could only have been achieved by someone (a very blonde, very beautiful someone) raking their hands through it.

She can’t help the wave of irritation that sweeps through her - so she doesn’t bother to soften her footsteps as she walks up the wooden stairs.

Minutes later, she hears his sleepy voice at her door. “Hey,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, “you were out pretty late, so I left you some dinner. We made pasta, it’s not as good as yours but,” -

“… I ate already,” she says, tone clipped.

“Oh.” He’s quiet, just watching her put her things away, and there’s irrational tears pricking at her eyes, anger, and frustration that she knows she doesn’t have the right to, so she doesn’t turn to acknowledge him. “… Mikasa, are you…,” he clears his throat, “… is something wrong?”

When she says nothing, he sighs, turning, “… Well, if you want to talk about it, you know I’m always here,” -

“… Could you please go over to Krista’s house next time?”

She colours, surprised at herself for her outburst of honesty. But her blush pales in comparison to Eren’s as he processes what she’s saying. “… This is my house,” he sputters, “… I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to want to bring my girlfriend over.”

“Well, it’s not just ‘bringing her over’, is it?”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “… What I do with Krista, in my personal space, is definitely not your business, Mikasa.”

“It is when I can hear it, Eren,” she retorts, as he shuts the door forcefully behind him.

…

vii.

It’s been two weeks since that… confrontation, and Mikasa’s barely spoken to him since.

She leaves before he does, makes sure dinner’s left out on the stove for him, whether he needs it or not, and locks her door when she’s done. And although he’s found himself staring awkwardly at that shut door multiple times, he’s never had the courage to actually knock.

He simply cannot comprehend this situation because despite the numerous arguments they’ve had in the past - it was always him, whining about something like a petty child and sulking till he got his way - she’d never truly been mad at him. And she’d never, ever, gone days without talking to him. And as he stares at the locker next to his (it was Mikasa’s) with a horrible ache in his chest, he is well and truly sure that he loathes this situation.

So, when small hands reach around his waist, enveloping him in a tight embrace, his subconscious reaction is to jerk back in annoyance. “I didn’t realise it was you,” he murmurs apologetically, rubbing her hands softly.

“… Who else would it be?” Krista asks, somewhat thrown off by this mood that had been festering for days now.

“You ask some very valid questions there, babe,” he mutters, a distracted half-smile on his face.

Taking a deep breath (determined to shake him out of his pensive aura), she whispers, “… You know, I don’t have work today.” She leans against him, reaching up to murmur in his ear, “we could hang out at yours for a while, if you want?”

She makes it clear what she means by “hanging out” by the way she presses up against him, and even though he’s responded with fervent enthusiasm to a similar invitation in the past, today he just averts his gaze, awkwardly.

Swallowing the rejection with a graceful exterior, she puts an arm’s length of distance between them. “… What’s going on, Eren? Your head’s been somewhere else all week.”

And before he starts to stay that it’s nothing, just that he has some stuff going on, she says, “… does this have something to do with Mikasa?”

His green gaze jerks up at her, startled with unfortunate honesty. “… I haven’t seen you talk to her all week.”

“…I,” he starts, but his throat closes up, for some reason, unsure whether he should really tell her what happened. He doesn’t want to put her in the middle of something that was clearly between him and Mikasa.

But with every passing second, the guilty look on his face only begins to feed the fears that she had successfully kept dormant all this while. “… Did something happen between the two of you?”

And when he looks into her eyes, bright blues seeping insecurity, he says, hurriedly, “… wait, I hope you aren’t thinking that we,” - he inhales sharply, wondering how he manages so successfully to upset the women in his life - “God, no. We had a misunderstanding, that’s all. She said something, I was pretty rude to her, and I shouldn’t have been.”

“And,” he murmurs, admitting it to himself, finally, “I’ve just taken too long to apologize.”

…

She’s barely finished washing the vegetables for dinner, when she hears the thud of the front door closing loudly.

(She remembers Carla reprimanding him every time, for not being gentler)

Mikasa has managed to avoid Eren successfully these past days, because she knows his schedule, knows that despite his complete lack of organization, he’s fairly predictable. And with his recent interest in a particular cheerleader, he almost invariably never comes home before 8.30 PM. So, when she hears him enter their kitchen at little over 7, she isn’t prepared.

She isn’t prepared because she’s been quite cowardly, saying things that she had no business saying, and then being unable to own up to it, unable to apologize to him. Because she knew that when she looks at him, she’ll feel the way she feels right now - taking in the sight of him, drizzle droplets fresh in his brown hair, as he runs a hand through it, his mouth twisting into an awkward grin. She knew she’d realize that her feelings for Eren were never really much of a choice, they just were.

“… I brought your favourite dumplings from Li’s,” he announces. “And I brought an extra serving of the spicy soy sauce so we don’t have to fight over who gets the last bit.”

…

He’s grateful for the small smile that forms on her face when she accepts the dumplings (the peace treaty as he calls it in his head), and for the small banter that she indulges him in as they eat.

After they’re stuffed with dumplings and inconsequential conversation, he clears his throat, because he remembers he came home early tonight with a certain conviction.

But as she does with most things, she beats him to it. “… Eren, about the other day,” she looks at him earnestly, “… I had no right to demand that of you. I’m sorry.”

And when he’s still quiet, she mumbles quickly, “I don’t know what got into me that day, honestly, I,” -

“Don’t apologise, Mikasa,” he says, a strange disquiet taking over him as he replays her words, “… the last thing I want, is to make you feel uncomfortable.” Or to make you feel like you can’t demand what you want from me.

This is the part that settles into him slowly, that somehow, the one person in his life that he’s always felt he could ask anything of, could demand anything of, and actually receive it without fail… she didn’t feel that she could count on the same from him. And it twisted painfully inside of him.

“I appreciate that, Eren. But honestly, I’ll get used to it… so don’t worry.” She smiles, in that genuine way of hers, small lips, curving shyly, “… and who knows, maybe someday I’ll want to ‘bring someone over’ too.”

She laughs as she does the air quotes and even though he manages a small grin in response, all he can say, without really meaning it, is –

“Yeah… Of course, yeah.”

…

viii.

She takes her frustration out on the cash register. “… Damn thing doesn’t open when I need it to, and doesn’t close when I want it to,” she mutters under her breath.

“You just need to show it some love,” Ymir says, amused, promptly closing the problematic register without any difficulty. “… Go sit, I’ll close up here.”

She does as she’s told, pouting slightly, but she’s grateful for the older girl’s help and understanding. “So… want a beer before I close the tap?” Ymir asks with a wink.

“You need to stop offering underage girls alcohol,” Krista whispers, scanning the room hastily.

The brunette rolls her eyes. “You need to stop with the innocent act every time. You’re a hot cheerleader for god’s sakes, everyone knows what goes on at your high school parties,” -

“Ok ok,” she acquiesces, suppressing the blush at Ymir’s offhanded compliment and deciding that that there was no point in panicking every time they did this, “… but only if you join me.”

“Cheers,” Ymir says, offering her glass to Krista’s and taking a generous gulp. “So, tell me. Boy trouble, again?”

Krista nurses her drink slowly before taking a sip.

To Krista, Eren was a breath of fresh air. He didn’t hover, he didn’t foam at the mouth every time she spoke to another guy, didn’t hound her if she didn’t pick up his phone call.

Does he even care? Ymir had asked her once scathingly, but she had disregarded it, grateful for the freedom she felt in his embrace. Freedom from toxic attachment, from past trauma or unresolved baggage like the one she was destined to carry. When she was around him, she had felt different. Lighter almost, as if this persona that she had created for herself could actually have a shot at happiness after all.

But lately she’d begun to wonder if she’d just been fooling herself… again. She’d begun to question if she had just convinced herself to see the promise of something that was never there.

“… I thought this guy was one of the good ones,” Ymir says, watching Krista closely.

“He is…” she sighs, “He is one of the good ones. It’s just…” she trails off, unsure if she should give voice to her thoughts. “Ah fuck it, I’m just feeling a little insecure, it’ll be fine…”

“… Is this about that sexy flatmate of his?”

She winces, feeling exposed. It often felt that way with Ymir. Like there was no point to any of the barriers she had worked so hard in constructing.

“She is attractive,” Krista admits, begrudgingly. “… I’m only surprised Eren hasn’t noticed that.”

“… But that’s what you’re worried about, aren’t you? That he has noticed that of late?” Ymir narrows her eyes at Krista. “You should just ask him about it!”

“I did,” she states defensively, “… and he said there was nothing,” -

“… Oh, sure there’s nothing. I can’t believe he thinks he can lie to you and get away with it,” -

“Ymir, I trust him, he’s my boyfriend,” -

“But that’s the problem with you. You just trust everyone, and you let them walk all over you. You did this with Reiner and now with,” -

“Ok,” she whispers, “Stop it, Ymir.”

“… Krista, you need to trust your gut about this sort of thing. If your gut is telling you that he’s a lying asshole, then you should just dump his ass and,” -

“… See this is why I didn’t want to tell you about this,” she cries, her voice rising In frustration. Because this is how it’s always been with Ymir, no one she dates is ever good enough, no decision she makes is ever smart enough.

“You’re always shitting on my boyfriends. And I know you were justified about the last one, but,” her voice cracks just a little bit, because at the end of it all, she just feels weak, “… it feels like you’re just taking a massive crap on me as well.”

“I didn’t mean,” Ymir starts apologetically, brown eyes remorseful, “… look, that wasn’t my intention.”

She takes her hand, slowly, lets her long fingers intertwine with Krista’s smaller, dainty ones. The crumpled expression on Krista’s features has her regretting ever opening her big mouth. But she was tired of seeing one person after another, enter her Krista’s life, and undo the progress she was trying so desperately to make.

“… The truth is,” she takes a deep breath, ready to unleash a truth that’s been stifled for so long, she can’t even remember when it first sprouted, “I think you’re pretty fucking amazing. And I see you wasting all your time and your feelings on these stupid boys who don’t deserve you.” The words come out quickly, rushed almost. A sharp contrast to how long they’ve festered in Ymir’s chest, growing and growing until these feelings knew no reason.

Ymir doesn’t look at her, she keeps her gaze focused on Krista’s hand, afraid of what might happen if Krista understands the depth of feeling behind her words. But more important than her feelings, there were some things she wanted Krista to see clearly.

“Did you tell him about your father, Krista? What he does to you when his wife isn’t looking?”

Krista tugs on her hand, a wave of unbridled panic spreading at the mention of her father. “I trusted you with that information, Ymir, you promised you’d never bring it up,” -

“… Did you tell him your real name?”

She can’t answer this question, even though she knows the answer, knows it’s an emphatic ‘no’ - but she cannot answer because there’s an overwhelming lump in her throat, and it’s taking everything from her to barely keep it together.

“… Let go of me, Ymir,” she pleads, and that’s when Ymir loosens her grip.

“… You trusted me to keep quiet about your secrets - and I’m fine with that. I’m fine with doing anything you ask of me,” her teeth grit together, because she doesn’t know, Krista doesn’t know just how much she would do.

“You asked me not to do anything about the fact that your father is hurting you, and it even though it kills me, I listened to you. But now I see you hurting yourself in this farcical relationship with fabricated feelings for some boy who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, and I don’t know if I can be quiet about that anymore.”

And because it’s grown too large, too much to keep inside of her anymore, she whispers, “I love you, Historia. And if you want me to let go of you, I will. But,” she brushes her lips gently against Krista’s cheek, “… You can trust me with your secrets, and your heart, if you’d let me, because I could take care of you.” She feels a warm tear roll down Krista’s cheek and her heart clenches, “… I could make you happy.”

…

ix.

“… I really appreciate you making time for this,” she murmurs, as she watches him lay the white lilies at her parent’s grave.

He always remembers, without her prompting, because the first time he’d come with her, she’d spent hours crying at their gravestone, telling him tear-filled anecdotes of the dishes her Mama cooked, the bedtime stories her Papa told, the flowers that they used to grow in their garden together (white lilies).

“C’mon Mikasa,” he rolls his eyes at her, “… we do this every year. Why wouldn’t I make time for this?” And why the hell are you thanking me?

She can’t really explain it to him, the possibly childish notion that she thought he might be too busy with his girlfriend to remember the death anniversary of her parents. She regrets doubting him, regrets that of late she’s been so clouded by petty jealousy, that she hasn’t truly appreciated how little he’s changed around her.

“It’s ridiculous,” she confesses, softly, “… you’ve given me everything. A home… A family.” She smiles at him, somewhat blurry. “But I can’t help it, every year on this day, my mind always goes back to that… moment. I lost them… in what felt like the blink of an eye.”

He tenses, as he always does when he sees her upset, or shedding a tear. There is a fundamental part of him that deeply despises the sadness on her features; it makes him feel helpless. So, he does the only thing he can - he wraps an arm around her, tucking her face into his shoulder as she snuggles into him.

“I miss them every day. But you saved me, Eren,” she whispers, dark eyes looking up at him with a gratefulness that he has never known how to accept, and never felt worthy of. “… and now I have you.”

Her voice trails off, almost wistful. “… I guess the world really can be cruel but beautiful at the same time.”

…

When he stops to think about it, he supposes it really is ridiculous it took them so long to get here. And by here he means - Mikasa wrapped securely in his arms, in his lap, on their couch, taking advantage of the privacy they’ve had all along.

He feels her tongue flick against his - it makes him shiver - and he can do little more than just wrap himself around her tighter, and sigh into her kiss. Her fingers make their way into his hair, cradling his head, pressing sweet kisses on the side of his mouth, on his jaw, and on the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

And because Mikasa’s always been a quick study (she’s learnt what he likes, what he’s weak for), he stills her exploration (very reluctantly) before she goes too far.

“Are you okay…?” He whispers, rubbing a thumb along the dried tear stains on her cheek – a reminder of her tears, of knowing the pain that he’d caused her, bubbled quietly within him, having been quelled temporarily by the glorious feeling of having her in his arms.

She laughs, shaking her head, “… I love you. I can’t believe I finally get to say it.” She rests her forehead against his, a happy smile forming on her lips.

“… You could have said it ages ago; you know. No one asked you to keep it inside for this long.” Even though he teases her with his words, his lips drift back to hers, brushing softly, unable to stay away for too long.

“… Well, you never know, I actually might have said it. If it wasn’t for, you know, you having a girlfriend.” He senses the eye roll, the teasing lilt of her voice, but he can’t help but regret the time he wasted. Because even though Krista was a dear friend, and there were no ill intentions there, now that he is here, chest to chest with the girl he loves, he only wishes he’d been here sooner.

“You’re going to use that against me forever, aren’t you?”

She grins in response. “… I have a question though.”

“Shoot,” he murmurs, nibbling against her lower lip.

“… Why’d you guys break up?”

He groans, kissing her jaw testily. “… Do you really want to go into that right now?”

She hesitates, torn between potentially ruining the mood and needing to know what happened. God knows, she had spent countless nights losing sleep over the details anyway. “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay, I guess…”

“It’s fine,” he says quickly, realising that if he wanted to set a precedent where she could ask him anything, then it‘s best he starts now, “… She’s in love with someone else. A girl, actually.”

Her eyes widen, not having expected that turn of events. “… Please tell me you didn’t ask for a threesome.”

“What the fuck, Mikasa, of course not!” He pulls back, offended.

“Good,” she murmurs cheekily, “I’ve raised you well.”

“Hmm,” he hums, “Speaking of ‘raising me’, you should probably stop saying stuff like that. Do you know that Connie asked if you were like a ’sister’ to me?”

He grins, seeing the shocked expression on her face. That’s exactly how he had felt when he was posed that question, with a little mortification added to the mix. “… Is that really how everyone sees our… relationship?”

His fingers drift to hers, where they rest on his chest. “We’ve been living together for a while now,” he caresses her knuckles absentmindedly, “Kids our age… they don’t really understand it, I guess. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“My turn: I have a question for you,” he murmurs. This is a question he’s long considered, stopped only by his embarrassment, fielding it from others only to put the vaguest labels on it.

“… What am I to you, Mikasa?”

The question throws her, because even though she’s told him candidly how she feels, that she loves him, she always has, he is asking her, right now, to define their relationship.

The very notion, the expression that flits on her tongue, bubbles up in her heart with an exciting warmth, even though she hopes this is just temporary, that it will grow, that Eren is so many things and will be so many things to her that she cannot possibly define right now - “… My boyfriend, of course.”

- fin -

A/N: i've been really nervous to post em, because its just been so long, and the writer that wrote chap 1 is different from the one that wrote chap 2, and honestly i dont even know if there are inconsistencies. so my request to you, dear reader, is to please let me know if i have made any fuck ups in writing this - or if you have any ideas for pacing, or storytelling that could possibly help me improve.

also there will be a chapter 3 focusing on eremika’s sexual exploration~

#eremika #erehisu #yumihisu #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #liquorisce fanfiction

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rukia-writes · 4 years ago

Text

✨SNK Daddies x Ghost! Reader✨

✨setting: Modern AU✨

✨Crackfic- A lot of characters are in here too✨

“Why are we here again?”

“Hanji wanted us to try this supposed haunted bar and it’s Hanji’s birthday.”

Erwin responded back to Levi as he knocked back a shot glass full of brandy like it wasn’t anything. Levi rolled his eyes as the table behind him cheered, his uncle and Hanji was the main reason as the two won a drinking game. Mike had just walked into the restaurant as his nose sniffed the air smelling food being cooked, walking up to the bar he sat beside Erwin and ordered himself a drink.

“Hanji’s birthday huh?”

“Mhmm.”

Erwin and Levi hummed in response as they downed another drink, as another round of cheers erupted. As the night went on, more guests arrived such as Moblit, Zeke, Kruger, and Keith Shadis. Soon, everyone had left the restaurant except for Hanji’s guests. It was almost midnight when Hanji managed to get all the equipment needed for tonight, cameras, EMF readers, spirit boxes and monitors the whole nine yards.

“Alright guys, so are you all ready for a lockdown?”

“..Pardon? I thought this was just a party? We are actually staying in this haunted place?”

“Place isn’t haunted.”

Levi added in to Zeke’s surprise, Hanji on the other hand nodded in agreement to Zeke’s questions.

“Yes, until morning. I asked the owner Keith shadis to let us do this for the night, for my birthday.”

“Don’t worry, the ghost is pretty calm. But there have been strange occurrences.”

“Such as?”

Levi asked a relaxed Keith Shadis who sitting at the bar enjoying a drink, Keith only looked up from his drink with a serious expression after finishing his drink.

“You’ll find out.”

Keith simply stated as Hanji then proceeded to setup everything with the help of the guests of course. Hanji was pretty excited for the most part, until Hanji stopped completely at hearing footsteps coming up from behind. A cold chill made Hanji shiver, not from the cold but from excitement.

“What is wrong?”

“I think it’s starting.”

Moblit asked as he watched Hanji get a big smile, and that’s when the clock struck midnight making an eerie “Ding” noise.

“Okay, let’s do the spirit box first-“

Hanji was cut off by Erwin yelling and jumping up from his seat in fright. Scaring everyone there finding out Erwin could scream quite loudly.

“What’s wrong Erwin?”

“...Felt like something grabbed my thigh.”

Erwin huffed with his hand placed on his chest trying to calm his rapidly beating heart, Hanji was quick to move everyone out the way. Placing a hand near Erwin hips then gasping at how cold the air around Erwin was now.

“Amazing.”

“This isn’t a ghost. It’s probably just draft or something.”

Levi tried to reason with Hanji only to hear his uncle cussing up a storm, and with good reason. Kenny’s hat was levitating in mid air, just simply floating. Zeke had seen enough as he was already trying to get out as he twist and turned the door knob trying to open the door but it was locked.

“Open this door. Who has the keys? Because I’m going home-“

At that moment one of Hanji’s spirit boxes picked up a message on the monitor scaring everyone, except levi that said “Home” and then “Handsome.”

“Hanji? What does this mean?”

“It means...I have no clue. What’s your name, spirit? Tell us your name?”

Everyone waited for awhile listening closely only to panic when The EVP monitor screen showed another message saying “(Name)”. Even Shadis was starting to panic as he never knew the spirit’s name that was haunting his restaurant.

“No fucking way. Let me see that.”

Levi grabbed the spirit box making Zeke nervous and everyone else there nervous.

“Okay, (Name)? What’s my name?”

It was quiet for a second or two until another message showed up on the screen “Levi Ackerman”, Everyone started to panic especially when Levi yelled himself and dropped the small spirit box as he had a hold of his ass now. Making Kenny ask worried for his nephew,

“What’s wrong boy?! What the hell is going on?!”

“Something touched me on the ass, I swear.”

Mike and Erwin were at the door trying to open the door as this was too much for them, only to have the lights flicker on and off then it was now Kenny and Kruger’s turn to yell in freight while holding on to their asses. Levi knew that look and asked the two men,

“You too?”

“Yeah.”

“This ghost better stop playing around. I’ll fight it.”

“You can’t fight air Kenny.”

Levi corrected his uncle as Kenny already had his pistol out ready to shoot, that is until the spirit box turned on by itself that was in moblit’s hands. Then quickly saying “Handsome men.”

“No way. No fucking way.”

Levi was now also at the door ready to leave as Moblit was freaking out at the spirit box just turning itself on and speaking.

“Hanji, this place is haunted.”

“I told you it was haunted.”

Hanji replied back while recording the whole thing on several cameras while carrying one, then looking at the spirit box with the camera.

“Who do you think is handsome, (Name)? Who are you attracted to?”

“It’s a spirit Hanji-“

“All of you.”

Everyone screamed as Moblit tossed the spirit box and headed for the door ready to bust it down if need be. Hanji and Kenny then heard the spirit box say “friendly” and even the word was up on the monitor.

“Aww hey guys, I think (Name)’s trying to be friends with us.”

“Well, it’s a bit too damn friendly if you know what I mean. My ass still stings.”

Kenny added in as he rubbed his not caring if anyone sees, Mike walked up to Hanji and leaned speaking directly into the spirit box.

“If you’re friendly, spank my ass.”

“Mike!”

Everyone yelled except for Kenny who was simply looking at Mike like he had lost his mind and when he heard Mike yell and grab his ass Kenny felt his pain. This ghost had a strong hand.

“I say we split up. Maybe there are more spirits here.”

Hanji suggested and being that it was Hanji’s birthday they all agreed. It was now almost three o clock at night as the restaurant was completely dark as the only lights that were that of the bar where shadis was drinking at. Hearing all sorts of screams and yells throughout the night.

(Name) was very active tonight, Shadis had never seen this level paranormal activity before.

Zeke had his ass smacked, Levi had his smacked again, Kenny had his hat float again as well as his gun taken away, Mike had his thighs smacked but he wasn’t phased it was Erwin’s screaming that scared him, Erwin had his ass smacked and he felt a cold gust of wind go down his back, Kruger saw several dark shadows thorougout the restaurant and would also have his thighs rubbed.

Finally, It was three o clock and everyone met back at the bar where shadis was still drinking.

“Have fun?”

“We got all sort of paranormal activity! (Name) tickled me!”

Hanji happily replied back while holding a camera looking back at the footage, everyone seemed to have gotten used to this friendly ghost. Everyone was now sitting around the table with Moblit recording everyone with a Kinect's 3D motion tracking camera, which is able to specifically seek out and read human forms.

“Okay to wrap things up, I think we should ask our new friend some questions and since this is my birthday I’ll go first...how are you today, (Name)? Are you happy?”

Everyone was quiet and waited for (Name) to speak and soon enough (Name) did speak a “Happy” in the spirit box, Moblit began to freak out a bit as the screen showed a figure floating over the table kindly weird like.

“Ask another guys, (Name)’s on the table.”

“Oh, Really?”

Kenny asked intrigued as he started moving his arm all over the place making figure disappear, making Hanji and Moblit mad. Zeke tapped the spirit box a few times like a comedian testing the microphone.

“Are you going to follow us home?”

Everyone was quiet until a “Yes” was heard on the spirit box, Moblit became happy as he saw (Name)’s figure back on the screen. Zeke wasn’t surprised but Mike and Kruger were. Levi on the other hand wasn’t too excited about the news.

“I want to shit in peace, you can’t come home with me.”

Mike busted out laughing even though Levi was serious, Erwin chuckled a bit before he asked his question.

“Is there something we can bring you? To make you happy, (Name)?”

Once again everyone was quiet until a “Everyone...Come back..to see me.”

Everyone “Aww” in unison as Levi felt bad knowing (Name) must’ve meant as a joke about coming home, so Levi decided to ask a question of his own.

“Do you like tea?”

“That’s your question?”

“Hush, bushy brow. (Name) is trying to speak.”

At that moment a “It’s good” came thru the box and Levi made a mental note to bring tea next time, Kenny asked the next question.

“Was that you who was humming when I was upstairs? It was rather nice.”

Everyone was quiet until a “Yes” came thru, making Kenny “Ha, I knew it.” As he downed a shot glass full of alcohol. Levi thought Kenny was hearing things when the two were upstairs, chopping it up to Kenny’s hearing going out. Kruger was next to ask a question,

“Are you the one who took my cigarettes?”

“Yours came up missing too? I thought i just misplaced mine.”

Zeke added in as he patted his pants pockets knowing full well he came in with a pack of cigarettes, a “Yes.” Came thru the box making Zeke and Kruger pout a bit until Mike leaned towards the spirit box even though it wasn’t necessary.

“Was that you who touched my ass when we were upstairs?”

Everyone was silent until a “No..Not me.” Came thru the spirit box surprising Mike quite a bit as he was positive that it was (Name) until he heard someone clear their throat.

“Sorry, that was me Mike. I couldn’t see in the dark and um.. it was me. Wasn’t (Name).”

Erwin scratched his neck while blushing a bit, Kenny started laughing until Levi elbowed his uncle in the rib cage. Hanji and Moblit were holding in their chuckle as Mike simply said “Oh, that’s okay.” While scratching his neck as well. Time went on and everyone stayed up until the sun came up as lockdown was now over.

While lock down was over everyone came back to the restaurant, (Name)’s presence was still there and everyone from that night could feel it.

(Name) had a unique touch.

✨Rukia-Writes✨

#the snk daddies x reader

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thebtswritersclub · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday Aditi!!!!

The BTS Writers Club is here to wish our lovely admin, @ditttiii a very happy birthday! Here’s all the messages we’ve collected, from admins and members alike for Aditi day (January 14)!

Aditi! Happy Birthday! Thank you so much for being an amazing Admin. The network would not be the same without you and all that you do. I mean, just look at the layout! You do so much for us and it’s 1000% appreciated. We’re so lucky to have you! Thank you for being with us from the start and being there to help everything grow. You’re such a valued and loved member and a wonderful friend. I love you so much. Even though this past year was an absolute garbage fire, I hope that next year will be much better. You’re going to do amazing things and I can’t wait to see them!

- Love, Eva @aroseforyoongi

PS: Please share more pictures of your puppy

Happy birthday, Adi!! Babe, you're an amazing person, a marvelous woman and an awesome friend. I wish you the best things in the world, that's what you deserve nothing less. I can't thank you enough for your love and support, always. Know that you'll always have in me a friend and a hype woman. Congratulations, Queen!

- Danna @unoriginal-username15432

Aditi! Though we have only known one another for a chunk of a year, I can safely say that you are one of the best people I could have met in 2020 and I am so glad I did! I think you have so much to offer the world in both intelligence and charm and you will go so far! Keep your head up through 2021 and never let anyone tell you you cannot do whatever you set your mind to. Keep writing and relaxing and enjoying life. Also, please remember to rest and sleep! Happy Birthday!!!

- Dean @eternalseokjin

Happy Birthday Aditi! You're so sweet and kind and I hope you have a great birthday!!!

- Donna @untaemedqueen

Aditi

I hope you have an amazing birthday. You deserve one. You’re so wonderful, sweet, hardworking, intelligent, caring, encouraging, talented, pretty... I could go on forever. In short, you’re awesome & held in high regard. Thank you for being you & thank yo for being a vital part of BTS Writers Club & its admin team. You’re an html goddess & a goddess of kindness and looks. Your presence brightens my day & I look forward to all of our conversations.

So, to BTS Writers Clubs’ resident Goddess, Happy Birthday!

- Lillia @moccahobi

Hello, luv

I remember the first time we talked. I had come to you asking for advice because I was thinking about posting on tumblr, and somehow we ended up talking for hours that day. Ever since then, you have been such an amazing and precious friend to me, and I am so incredibly glad that I decided to come out of my shell that day. I am so thankful for everything about you and our friendship, and also for you quite literally dragging me into this net to meet so many other lovely people I have the pleasure of calling my friends as well. I wish you all the best, today and every other day, and never forget that I love you very much!

- Keri @kerikaaria

happy birthday dearest aditi! i hope that you have the happiest, most wonderful, most magical birthday ever! you deserve everything good and more! sending you all of the love, hugs, and good vibes i can offer!

- Carese @honeyj00ns

Adiiiiii ily!! my lovely waifuuu!!! you work so hard and are so nice!! i married right keep doing what you love and remember to treat yo'self!!!!

- Dae @birbdae

Lovely! It's your birthday and I would be remiss not to let you know that you are so loved and so appreciated! I hope you have an amazing day with those you love (especially Toto), and get something you were hoping for, be that quality time or a nice gift! Happy Birthday Aditi!

- Day @baepsaetan

Aditi, my love, my darling, my honey, ily. You’re such a good friend and a good wine bibi, i love u muchly and appreciate u. I’d like to thank u from the bottom of my heart for being there for me when i needed u, ty for helping me with my writing and helping me be happy, you truly are the best and there’s only one u. Keep shining u star. Keep being u, you literally are so cute and adorable and pretty like words can’t even describe how amazing u are, happy birthday to u ma love, i hope u have the greatest day bc u deserve it! I can’t offer u a hug rn but i can give u a virtual hug (sending u the biggest virtual hug) i hope it sent!

- Ellie, signing off w a big big kiss for u @jungkooksbroski

Happy Birthday Aditi! I hope all your birthday wishes come true on your special day! You have such a hardworking and vivacious personality, it's no wonder why I admire you a lot I'm glad I can call you a friend of mine and I only want nothing but the best for you

- Gwen @prettyboongi

happy birthday aditi! although we haven't talked all that much, i'm glad to have met you through the net! you are such a caring and loving person and i hope you have the best birthday today and many more amazing birthdays! thank you for being you and happy birthday!

- Ivory @sunkissedjk

Aditi, you have the sweetest soul and the kindest heart, I love our chats and how helpful you are. You've given me so much confidence, right from the get go. You never stop believing in people and will bend over backwards to help them, even when you're ill. You're so freaking talented, honestly, I just can't praise you enough. Happy birthday my lovely hareem queen, hope you have the best day!

- Ley @pars-ley

Aditi! The beautiful, amazing angel! I'm so glad I have gotten to know you through this net and I'm excited to get to know you better. Thank you for always being available to read my crap and for creating amazing works of fiction. You are one of a kind and the world is so lucky to have you in it! Happy birthday

- Mars @joheun-saram

Hey Diti Darling, Apparently it's your birthday. Haps Borth! Ok, I know I give you hard time whenever we talk but that's because I am just a big nervous and confused mess all the time. We don't even talk that much. Even with that, I love you very much, as a chaotic sister. I just love seeing your name around. Every interaction I have with you is precious no matter how confused I come out of it. You are so sweet and so loving. I hope that you keep that light and keep growing. May this next year that approaches you is a fruitful one and bring you happiness in what ways that it can. Look up, smile bright.

-Your ever worried brother, Nep. :33 @dawndrms

lovely adi!! i'm so lucky to have met you this summer, because i'm pretty sure you're one of the first desi writers i met on tumblr i love seeing all your posts on my dash, you're really such a sunshine and happy pill on dumblr and i wish more people saw that. your style of writing is so so so enchanting, something i wish everyone would read. in the net, you're a ray of light on everyone and i can tell that bring you so much energy and liveliness wherever you go. have a lovely birthday aditi appi, and to many more!!

- Noor @papillonsgf

Happy birthday Aditi!! I want to say a massive thank you for everything you do for the net to make it what it is. you are so friendly and helpful, you really make everyone feel so at home there! I'm so happy to have joined and met you. I hope you have a great day because you deserve it xx

- Ru @btsmosphere

Hey Aditi! I just wanted to say, happy birthday from the bottom of my heart! You've made being in here so special, helping me with everything I needed! I remember the first person to say Hello to me in the net was you! You were also the one who told me I was accepted! Your really special to me! So is your hate for Mee6 Thank you so much for everything! I wanted to give you something special for your birthday so I'll be posting Transvaal Daisies very soon! Once again, thank you for everything

- Tailia @namyoongles

Hi Aditi!!! I hope you have a wonderful birthday I love how sincere and enthusiastic you are and how you’re always hyping us and all our ideas and i hppe your birthday matches how awesome you are

- Tanooki @crystaljins

Happy Birthday lovely Aditi! I hope this year brings a ton of happiness, positive growth, success and prosperity! I’m so happy we got to meet over this net. I love love LOVE gushing about Bollywood movies and Indian music with you and I absolutely love how supportive and helpful and kind you are. You are awesome, beautiful and just so lovely! I’m so happy that we get to celebrate your birthday together (relatively) and I’m wishing you all the best today and onwards! Cheering you on! Happy Birthday!

- Yours, Triv @purpletigertaetae

We love you, Aditi! Have an amazing birthday!!!!

All graphics and pictures used made with buckets of love by @kerikaaria

#birthday #happy birthday #birthday post #aditi birthday

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t-lostinworlds · 5 years ago

Text

Extra (Tom Holland)

A/N: What is this? I have finished something? Me?? posting?? A FIC? WHAT? Is the world actually ending!?!? I think I’m funny but I’m not, clearly. Glad to be out of my writing rot tho aha. Hope you guys like this one!

Pairing: Tom Holland x Singer!Reader

Summary: You get a sweet but very extra surprise on your birthday nearing the end of your show.

Warnings: Fluff and my usual typos

Word Count: 5.5k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

The sound of your phone just going off uncontrollably was what woke you up, and you were completely sure that it wasn't your alarm.

You squint your eyes at the bright glare of the screen, a huge contrast to your still dim hotel room. You literally had just woken up hence why the curtains aren't open yet, it's still a bit too early after all.

Flicking the ringer on silent, birthday greetings and messages from friends and families were still flooding through, your phone now vibrating instead of your loud ringtone, giving your ears a break.

As you read through and responded to all of them, you couldn't help but feel a little down after you realized you haven't seen his name yet.

Of course you feel grateful for all the sweet messages everyone has sent you, your heart is melting from all the love. But there's that slight disheartened feeling that you can't seem to shake, slight worry that your boyfriend might have forgotten about your birthday.

You haven't heard from Tom since yesterday morning, which now makes it almost a full day. After he texted you that he was going to be doing a lot of stunts and is probably going to be super busy, he then just disappeared, not even slipping in a text good night. You did let it pass though, because he might have been quite knackered after the shoot.

Message to Tom: Good morning bub <3 Just checking up on you since you haven't read or replied to any of my messages at all. Hope you're okay and haven't injured yourself Thomas. I really miss you a lot and I love you loads x

Your frown could only deepen as you hit send, still no response nor any sign that he's got your messages whatsoever.

Normally, it wouldn't really be a big deal but the last you've seen him in person was three months ago. He was busy shooting the third installment of Spider-Man all while doing a few projects on the side. And you, well, you're touring around the world.

You could be patient and blame it on the time difference why he hasn't greeted yet, but he's just behind a couple hours. Tom has made it a habit of always greeting you at midnight no matter what and where, he's just cliché like that, and it was definitely passed midnight in New York.

God, you sound so much like a whiny and ungrateful brat, but you can't help it, you just miss him so much.

Maybe you've gotten so used to always spending your birthdays with him so the first time that you're celebrating it from different parts of the globe, it does makes you sad.

You did try to make ends meet, but a week before today, he's brought you the news that he can't fly out due to conflicting schedules with some of the actors he's working with, and that it's critical that he's there on the day. To be the leading role of a gigantic movie, asking a few days off is never that simple.

On the other hand, you have a show today and tomorrow, so flying to him isn't exactly ideal either. You understand of course, you are sort of in the same line of work, but still, it doesn't make you feel any less gloomy.

With one big stretch, you placed your phone back on your side table as you slowly got out of bed, opting to go and take a shower to then head down and meet the crew for breakfast.

Maybe you'll hear from him later in the day.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon and still not a single word from Tom.

You were growing worried because it was so unlike him to be very cut off and silent.

Did he lose his phone?

You tried to contact Harry—who's with Tom currently—but he too wasn't responding. Everything was just off and odd altogether, the tiny pit in your stomach only growing bigger the more you worry and think about where your man is.

"Have you heard from Tom?" You asked with furrowed brows the moment Molly, your manager approached you on stage. Your hand found its way to fish your phone out of your pocket to check it for the umpteenth time, but still, no sign of him.

You were finishing up your final soundcheck before you were off to a mini get-together—snacks and drinks included—with some of your fans. It was your alternative to a meet and greet because you'd rather hang out and have real conversations with them than the whole quick snap and go.

She shook her head at you all confused, a slight glimmer in her eyes that you didn't quite catch. "Uh no, why?"

You sighed. Tom doesn't really contact your manager unless its important matters, so you don't even know why you're asking, maybe you've just grown desperate to hear even the smallest thing from him, just anything. "Never mind. Is it time?"

"Yeah, they're all waiting for you."

You simply nodded as you followed her off stage, handing the guitar over to your guy on the way.

Walking through the hallway, you kept your head down, eyes glued to your phone as you respond to more messages from people, but also checking if Tom has come back from ghost town.

You were aimlessly following Molly to wherever room or space they set up the get-together in, just watching her shoes and never looking up from your device. That, until you heard a few shuffling of rushed feet and a door being slammed shut.

"What was that? And what's in here?" You asked, eyes now trained on a door of what looks like another dressing room. Molly continued walking, so you kept following but with your gaze still glued to the door, curios as to what's going on inside because you definitely can hear a bit of ruckus.

"Oh just the staff, that's one of their rooms." She answered casually, not even bothering to give you or the room a glance.

"Is it weird if I just go inside and say thank you? Would that be too... intrusive?" You pondered, halting in your tracks as you contemplated on knocking. You just wanted to extend your gratitude for all their hard work, but you aren't sure if they were comfortable with you suddenly just strolling in.

"It's not weird at all hun, but you've got a schedule." She smiled at you sweetly, nodding her head towards the direction of the get-together.

"Oh right, yeah, let's go."

You gave the door one last look before turning on your heel to follow Molly once again, up until you reached another space covered in curtains. And the moment your bodyguard pulled it open, wide smiles on faces greeted you as they all sang in tune.

"Happy birthday to you!"

You laughed as you shyly shook your head at them. Warmth coated your whole body in an instant as love and pure adoration radiated off of the space, off of your fans.

You did as much as wave your fingers in the air as they sang, serving as a conductor because for the number of years you've been on this earth, you still have no idea what to do when people sing the birthday song to you.

* * *

"I can't thank you guys enough for being here with me tonight. You guys have been so incredible, you always are." You breathed out as your voice echoed throughout the whole arena. You looked at the thousands of people who came tonight to see you perform with a proud grin, their energy never wavering as they sing your songs back to you from each melody to lyric.

Adrenaline was pumping through your veins as you tried to catch your breath, taking the water bottle off of the floor and lifting it up to your lips to have a quick drink.

"Now, give me everything you've got for this last song alright?" You spoke into the mic once you've rehydrated.

"Wait, wait. Don't you guys agree that Y/N is killing it tonight?" Your pianist, Sara, interrupts, the crowd cheering in agreement at her input. "And judging by today's occasion, I think we all owe her a little song." She added, earning a hearty laugh from you as you brought the mic back to your lips.

"You guys don't have to—"

"Happy birthday to you!"

The song was played no matter your protest, Sara leading the crowd as she plays the tune on her keys, the rest of the band following suit.

Your laugh bounced off the walls as you stood there in complete awe. It was a beautiful sight to see, the crowd all singing in unison, lights up in the air as they pour all their heart to the simple yet special song. The song still filling you up with joy and warmth despite having heard it countless of times for the whole day, and the fact that all these people were there for you? It was definitely the icing on the cake.

"Thank you so much you lovely people, y'all are making me emotional. And they say the best way to spend your birthdays is with the people you love and the ones who love you, and they were absolutely right. I'm so blessed to have you guys tonight, because I do love you all very much." You stated fondly the moment they finished with a loud cheer, a hand placed right atop your heart as you feel it grow ten times its size.

"Y/N, we've got another something for you." Sara spoke before you could even get another word out, hand gesturing towards the large screen right behind you.

"Oh god, is this mission make Y/N ugly cry today?" You laughed, turning around just in time too see the tour artwork turning pitch black to then be replaced by a huge countdown.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

The crowd roared in delight as Mr. Niall Horan joined with Lewis Capaldi appeared on screen, large pints of Guinness on hand with their arms around each other as they give you their birthday greeting.

"Happy birthday Y/N! But since we're halfway across the world, we'll be there with you in spirit. Also, Lewis and I decided to celebrate anyway so cheers to you and have an amazing day." Niall chuckled as he lifted his beer up. "I'll make sure to have a good drink for you Y/N! We miss ya and we love ya!" Lewis added with a cheeky grin, and you couldn't help but shake your head at the two with a big smile of your own.

You've worked with them both on a few songs, and both were the funniest yet sweetest gentlemen you've met in the industry, especially when you put the two together.

Both of them emptied their glasses as they bid their goodbyes, Niall's loud laugh echoing throughout the arena when Lewis spilled before they disappeared on screen.

The crowd went even louder once Shawn Mendes' pretty face appeared on it next, sporting his usual bright smile as he gave you his short but sweet greeting. "Happy birthday Y/N! Wishing you all the best in life since you deserve all of it! Can't wait to work with you again soon! Have fun on your birthday honey!"

You shook your head in disbelief. An amused smile was plastered on your face, still unable to fathom that a few years ago you were a huge fan of him. And now you can say you've worked with him, even call him a friend. Funny, how the universe works.

Alessia Cara came up next with a smile, wide and bright, you're heart melting to see one of your greatest and closest friends. She's just a pure and kindhearted soul, a rare beauty. "Hey there you lovely and amazing woman! Happy birthday! I miss hanging out with you a lot but I shall see you soon! Keep conquering the world Y/N! I am so proud of how far you've come and you deserve every bit of success that comes your way. Again happy birthday! Have an amazing one and I love you!" She blew you a sweet kiss and waved you goodbye, tears already brimming in your eyes at all the love and appreciation thrown your way.

Next were Zendaya and Jacob Batalon, who you've grown close with through no other person than Tom. Both were clearly on set sitting on directors' chair in their characters' outfits. Both looked a little tired but they still greeted you with wide smiles nonetheless.

"Happy birthday Y/N!" They screamed in unison. "We wished we could be there with you to celebrate your birthday but you already know how these things go." Z pouted, Jacob copying her as well and you couldn't help but giggle. "But soon when we get a break we will catch up and celebrate your birthday." Jacob added with a knowing grin. "Anyway! Duty calls so enjoy your birthday and have great one! We love you!"

Then friends and family came up on screen, ones who you've missed most having been away from them for so long and that's when you felt your heart ache a little. Happy tears were brimming in your eyes as each of them shared their lovely messages, saying how proud they are for how far you've come. And when those words come from the people who you truly care about, it means the absolute world.

The next person to share their video message didn't help with the tears either, a hushed sob escaping your lips the moment you saw his familiar face.

The crowd behind you screamed at the top of their lungs the moment Thomas Stanley Holland appeared on screen, handsome face sporting that sweet and charming smile as he sat in his trailer wearing his Spider-Man suit.

"Hello darling. My love, I'm so gutted that I'm not there so celebrate your birthday with you. If I could teleport myself by your side right now, I would in a heartbeat, but anyway, happy birthday sweetheart!" Tom exclaimed joyfully, grin all beaming and you couldn't help but miss him even more.

"Oh, where do I start? Well, I can start by saying how proud I am of you, so so proud of the gorgeous, powerful, strong and successful woman that you've grown to become. You've worked so hard to get where you are today and it fills me with so much happiness knowing that you're out there traveling the world and doing what you love the most." The crowd cooed at Tom's sweet words, your heart was already melting at the seams as more tears threaten to spill, and he wasn't even done yet.

"You deserve the whole world if not more with how kindhearted and compassionate you are. And gosh you make me feel so happy and loved. I feel so lucky to have someone like you in my life, I can't even begin to describe to you exactly how much, and if I tried? Then we'd be here for hours on end. And lastly—because I'm being called to set right now, if I wasn't I'd be talking about how amazing you are some more—I am truly, madly and deeply in love with you Y/N. You are my world and I hope I make you feel loved every single day, because you truly deserved to be."

"Tom they're waiting for you."

"Yeah, just one more minute." Tom calls out to someone off shot before his eyes landed back on the camera, staring straight at you through the screen with a guilty smile. Guilty because it pains him that he's not there with you. "I love you dearly, and I miss you so much. I'll make it up to you I promise. Once again, happy birthday to my beautiful girl and I shall see you soo—"

All of a sudden the screen went static, Tom's words being cut off as you heard nothing but white noise. Then everything just went black, the whole arena dark as the night as gasps of surprise and screams of panic echoed throughout its walls.

Tell everyone to stay calm Y/N, we're fixing things up.

Your sound guy spoke in your in-ear. You nodded despite the fact that they probably can't see you due to the darkness. Turning back around to the audience, you spoke into the mic. "I'm sorry guys, just technical difficulties. Just stay in your seats in be calm, the lights should be back on in a minute."

And as if on cue, the crowd screamed as the power turned back on. However, after a few seconds, they turned unusually rowdy, too rowdy for it to be only that reason. Slowly you got the feeling it wasn't only because of that, judging by the volume and power of their cheer, and by a few fans pointing at the stage as if they're seeing something you aren't.

For a split second, you met eyes with Molly who was right by the side of the stage. She had that all-knowing grin on her face as she pointed towards something behind you.

Confused, you turned around, jumping in sheer shock when you were met by a hanging, upside-down person dressed in a red and black Lycra suit, face all covered with a mask making the identity of the person pretty much unknown.

Your heart beat quickened as you stumbled back on your feet at the sight of the person, your brain registering it back to a specific boy—one who you saw on screen minutes ago wearing the exact same outfit—even if there was no confirmation as their face wasn't even shown. Your whole body was trembling from surprise, excitement but also worry that it might not be who you think it is under that mask.

Emotions were all over the place as you stared right at upside-down, masked-face of Spider-Man who held a birthday cupcake in hand.

"No, no, stop, please, is this a prank?" You croaked out, shaking your head as tears started to escape your eyes, question a must because you're having a really hard time believing what you're seeing.

It's been a long day, you just really wanted to make sure that what's happening is real and not just a figment of your imagination. You had to make sure that it wasn't the desperation of you missing your boyfriend painting pictures in your head. Not only that, but to really be sure that it's actually him under that mask.

"Guys! Don't even play! Please don't get my hopes up. That's a stunt double right?" You asked into the mic as you looked at your band and the rest of the crew for answers, who gave you nothing but wide smiles. You just feel like it would be too good to be true, and you really don't want to face disappointment if it wasn't him.

On the other hand, out of all the things they could have done to prank you, why would they choose this? It's a bit cruel to prank someone on their birthday now doesn't it? Especially when it involves playing with their emotions?

Unless, it's not a prank at all and you're getting way too ahead of yourself.

Mr. Spider-Man beckons you over, finger pointing at your hand to which you held the mic. With tears already clouding your vision, you moved closer slowly.

Reaching a close enough proximity, you had one hand over your mouth to silence your whimpers as the other lifted the microphone up to where Spider-Man's mouth is supposed to be. And the moment he spoke, you've lost any sense of control over your emotions or your sanity, his voice just too familiar for it to be someone else's.

"Why don't you take off the mask and find out yourself darling?"

You shook your head at the upside down boy as joyful tears streamed down your face, shaking hands lifting up to hook your fingers on the edge of the mask, pulling it down and removing it fully to reveal the face of the man you love.

"You sneaky bastard." You laughed tearfully, Tom only grinning at you all proud, his face now turning redder as the seconds pass by, being upside-down and all.

"Happy birthday sweetheart." He chuckled, offering you the cupcake, which you took gladly, balancing it with the mic on your hand. You were unable to form any more words as you stared at Tom, still unable to believe that it's actually him, and that he's here, in the flesh.

The crowd started to chant the word "kiss" over and over, making you throw your head back in pure laughter.

"We should do the kiss." Tom wriggled his eyes brows at you, mischievous smirk in play and you couldn't stop your eyes from rolling at your boy. But still, you gave in anyway as you cupped his face softly, your heart skipping a beat at the feeling of his warm skin against your palm.

You brushed the tip of your nose with his with a hum, moving closer until there was no space between you two as you captured his lips in yours, all while trying to manage the whole upside-down situation.

Tom sighed in pure satisfaction to finally feel your lips on his after months of being deprived from it, your touch making him feel like he's floating, which says a lot given the fact that he was already hanging mid-air all while being upside-down.

The kiss didn't last long though, too many prying for you two to cherish the moment. The crowd, on the other hand, cheered in amusement at the extremely cliché but sweet gesture, you and Tom giggling between the kiss at the loud support.

"Okay, I'm actually getting dizzy now." Tom laughed once you pulled away, hand gesturing for you to move just a little bit farther, and when you did, he flipped himself right-side-up with ease. A few guys then rushed on stage to help him with the wires, and once they were off, Tom turned to you with a sweet smile, face coated with wholesome contentment to finally see you in person again.

"You're actually here." You whimpered, fresh tears wetting your cheeks some more once he stood right in front of you.

"Aww darling, come here." Tom cooed with a soft chuckle, arms wrapping around your frame as he held you close to his chest, pressing a sweet kiss on top of your head. You couldn't contain your sobs as you buried your face on the crook of his neck, the smell of his perfume filling you up quickly and it only made your grip around him tighten.

You just miss him so damn much, and to actually have him here on your birthday, to be holding him so close after months, it was making every fiber of your being emotional.

"I haven't missed your birthday, not a single one, ever. Why would I start now?" He whispered against your hair, swaying you from side to side in a comforting manner, a soft sigh coming out of you as you felt your heart grow with even more love for this man.

"I still haven't decided if I hate you or love you for doing this." You giggled with tiny sniffles, pulling away to get a proper look at his handsome face, the face that you'll always be glad to see. Hate because he almost gave you a heart attack and for making you worry about him for being gone for a day, and love because, well, he's here now isn't he?

Tom only shot you a wink. "I'll tell you all about it later." He says, hand reaching down to take the microphone from you.

"Hey everyone, I'm Spider-Man." The crowd roared at that, Tom laughing in pure glee, all proud of his choice of words as he slings his arm over your shoulder and pulled you to his side. "I just want to thank you guys for supporting this amazing woman right here. I've been watching the show from the very start and you guys have been incredible."

Tom turned to look at you lovingly, smile coated with delight and adoration, voice layered with nothing but certainty. "I love this woman a lot, so thank you for making her dreams come true and for making her happy."

With just that, you were able to conjure even more tears as you looked at Tom all adoringly with a small pout. The boy stared at you with just as much love, cooing at your reaction as he gave you a soft kiss on the forehead.

How have you managed to get so lucky?

"Right, I'm done crashing your show so take it away my love." Tom finished as he handed the microphone back to you. Giving you one last warm squeeze and a peck on the lips to match, Tom was then waving goodbye to the audience and disappearing side-stage to watch the rest of the show.

Taking in deep long breaths, you turned to the audience with a laugh. "Okay, wow. Mission Ugly Cry is a success then. I haven't see him in months okay I couldn't help the tears."

"I wasn't expecting that at all as you can probably tell by my reaction. How am I supposed to top that now?" You rubbed your temple in feign worry, the audience cheering you in mere support.

You were still sniffling from all the crying along with your throat being little dry. And you were thankful for waterproof mascara otherwise you would've looked even more horrifying.

"God I'm such a mess, can I have some tissues please?" You asked, looking around the crew for help as you attempted to wipe off the tears with your fingers.

Instead of the staff, Tom ran back out with a box of tissues and a bottle of water in hand, making you shake your head in utter hilarity at how corny he is. You couldn't hold back your laughter when he handed you the box of tissues, pulled a couple pieces and held his fingers under your chin as he wiped your tears for you, all gingerly as if he was retouching your make up. After that, he opened up the water bottle to help you drink, then fixed your hair up jokingly and squeezed your nose playfully right after.

Once he was done with, he gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek, waving one last time at the crowd before returning back to side-stage.

"My new assistant everyone." You joked, keeping your eyes on your boyfriend with a grin you can't seem to wipe off. Tom mirrored your expression as he gave you two thumbs up in support for the last song, and with that you turned back to the crowd with a deep, satisfied sigh.

"Right, let's go out on a high note."

* * *

"Absolutely killed it." Tom praised, engulfing you in a warm embrace the moment you got off stage, a soft thank you coming out of you as you squeezed him back.

On your way back to your dressing room, You kept each other close, his arm slung over your shoulder with yours around his waist as you walked through the hallway.

"I'm not leaving your side by the way. I missed you too damn much and I'm not going to waste any second by being a little far from you." Tom shot you his best puppy dog eyes combined with a cute pout, a sweet giggle escaping your lips that made Tom's heart melt ten times over. "Well, I'm not complaining."

It wasn't that long of a walk from the stage to your dressing room but you had time to kill, so you turned to look at your man with a curios glint in your eyes.

"Tell me how you've managed to pull off this extremely over-the-top surprise? I mean, you could've just showed up in my dressing room and I would've cried just as much." You pointed out. Not that you didn't like what he did, you loved what just happened, every second of it, but you cannot deny that what he did was as extra and cliché as one can be.

Tom shrugged with a chuckle, "I know. But I wanted it to be special, you deserve nothing but. And you've got to admit, dangling upside-down in the middle of the stage during your show, all while dressed as Spider-Man is pretty impressive. Plus, we did the kiss. I'd say it's an amazing birthday surprise."

"It is amazing. I just happen to forget how extra you are sometimes." You teased. "I am, but you love me for it." Tom retorted back with a smirk, causing you to roll your eyes with soft laugh.

"Yeah, I do. Thank you so much bub, you always make my birthdays memorable." You sighed, wrapping both your arms around him with a smile full of gratitude. Tom planted another kiss on your forehead, a bright smile on his lips to match yours as he hummed. "Anything for my angel."

"Now, details Holland."

"Right, managed to pull some strings a a week ago and was able to ask few days off, so the whole conflicting schedule wasn't entirely a lie but it wasn't as serious as I made it out to be. Flew out last night right after the shoot. I couldn't handle just lying to you which is why I didn't respond to any of your messages in case I slip up. I'm sorry about that love."

"And then out of nowhere I thought how awesome it would be to pop up as Spider-Man in the middle of your show and do the famous kiss, so I asked Marvel a favor and thank goodness they let me borrow the suit. Called Molly to tell her about my plan, she helped quite a lot. Arrived here earlier this morning, did a test run with the wires and all that while you were still back at the hotel. Changed into the suit to then wait for the time. Oh! And if you actually looked up from your phone earlier down the hall on your way to your get-together, the whole surprise would've been ruined."

You gasped as you smacked his chest lightly. "That was you! I knew something was up." You felt really played, knowing you could've seen him if you did as much as peek up from your phone. But then again, it would've ruined the whole thing, and you really don't want to change anything that has happened today, so you're glad you didn't.

Tom could only laugh at your reaction, giving your pout a sweet peck before continuing. "The video messages were planned a long, long time ago but we made a few edits at the end of my bit to make it dramatic and here we are now."

And just as he said those last words, both of you now stood in front of the door of your dressing room. If there's one thing you always tend to be surprised about Tom, it's his impeccable timing.

"You are something else Thomas." You gushed, referring to today's escapade and just in general. You really are so lucky to have someone like him in your life, so thoughtful, caring, kind and just all around amazing.

You don't really know what came over you but the moment he opened the door to your dressing room and are your way inside, just knowing that you two were finally alone, you grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him down, crashing your lips on his as you pushed him back against the door, closing it shut in the process.

Tom chuckled lowly at the sudden change in mood, hands taking home on your waist as he relished the taste of your lips, one he's missed so bad.

The thick fabric of his suit was starting to irritate him for he just wants to feel your skin on his fingertips, especially after so long of not having to touch you. It got on Tom's nerves even more when he felt it grow even tighter than it already is.

And when you started to nibble on his bottom lip as your hands inched down his body slowly, Tom groaned, pushing you away gently, just for a little room to breathe. "Darling, it's very uncomfortable, borderline painful when I get hard in this suit, you know that." He grumbled, brown eyes a shade darker as his grip on your waist tightened.

You giggled, recalling all the times you've teased him whenever you came to visit him on set. "Hmm, let's get you out of it and go back to the hotel then."

Tom's bottom lip got caught between his teeth at your suggestion, your insides churning as he looked at you lustfully, a deep rumble erupting from his chest when he said,

"We definitely should. After all, this isn't the only surprise I have in store for you sweetheart."

-:-:-:-:-

Like & Reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think! <3

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nagisasstunningpersonality · 4 years ago

Text

TINSITOGS, a retrospective (happy birthday)

(yes I’m like two days too late I know I’m sorry)

Why hello followers and ass class fandom, nice to see you there. I’m sure MOST people know about this, but in case you don’t, hi. On AO3 I’m better known as livixbobbiex, writer of maybe one of the most infamous Assassination Classroom fics.

Which I mean like, if you haven’t read it yet you totally should it’s fanlore at this point I promise-

Shameless plug that I don’t need aside, I felt that, on its first birthday since actual completion, I just wanted to share some things about it. Some tit bits about writing it, fun facts, maybe even some author advice TM. I appreciate that it’ll be super annoying if I do that in the tags, though, so that’ll all be under the cut. If you don’t want to read the whole post, then no matter what, thanks for the support in general!

I also want to take the opportunity to announce that I’ve reopened my discord, so if you want to talk about my fics with me (and others), you’re more than welcome to join! (the link is here)

The origin story

I’ve stated this many times, I think, but TINSITOGS was never supposed to be a serious story. Taking you back, quite a long time, it actually started in a facebook DM with a friend. We used to come up with “head canons” with each other, which were basically just very condensed fanfiction plots over a multitude of text messages. I believe I was trying to cheer her up, and I tried to come up with some kind of plot line.

At the time, I was fairly fresh to the Ass Class fandom, and I was joking about how there were no teen pregnancy melodrama fanfictions. It wasn’t that I wanted one, I just thought it was strange for a school centric anime with a bunch of ships to NOT have one. And, back then, I only really cared about karmagisa. So I just decided ‘right it’s happening’. The reason I decided to make it ABO was due to ‘it making sense’. Fun fact: it was almost written as AFAB trans Nagisa, but I decided against it as I didn’t rate my ability to handle it well back then. Looking back on it, I’m glad I made that decision.

Over around two months, writing out the plot of this story took over my life a little bit. I had no idea where I was going with it, but I was having so much fun with the drama that I decided that Karma and Nagisa shouldn’t get together soon at all, and I had a lot of fun teasing my friend with the ‘will they won’t they’. It was only when I got bored that I invented this intense drama plotline to finish it all off.

That period of time was a lot of fun. And whilst that friendship didn’t end well, I still have a lot to thank her for. She chose Daichi’s name because I had no idea, and she wanted to annoy me because I didn’t like Haikyuu. When I couldn’t decide on his hair colour, the purple was her suggestion because ‘why logic?’ Daichi speaking Korean was because of how much she liked Kpop. She even helped me choose the title of the actual fic, so there’s a lot you can thank her for, honestly.

After I finished that story, though, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Whenever I daydreamed, I used to think about that damn Daichi Akabane, and how much I wanted to tell his story. I’d even come up with extra stuff to fill in a lot of the gaps, and developed his character in my mind. I decided that I was really desperate to write it down. Usually that worked when I had an idea I wanted to work through.

I wrote the first chapter in late 2017, and then the next two as well. I just, kept going, and realised that I could go further still. TINSITOGS was never something that was supposed to be shared, but I decided I may as well. After all, that fated ‘teen pregnancy drama’ fic still didn’t exist, and I thought it would be funny to make it happen.

Yes, as I’ve stated publicly a few times, TINSITOGS was a crack fic. If I wanted attention from it, it was infamy. We even joked about me cursing the fandom if it ever became the most popular fic (whoops?). What I wasn’t expecting was a bunch of people, in a fandom where at the time there were NO ongoing karmagisa fics and it was pretty dead, to really seem to enjoy it. It was enough to have me keep writing it, at least. I still don’t know at what point I actually started taking it seriously, but somehow I did, and the rest is history?

The reception

In my wildest dreams, I never thought that I would be the author of one of the most popular fics in the fandom. To this day, the amount of views TINSITOGS has is insanity to me. For the record, across all platforms it’s on today it has 238,000, which is literally a number I can’t even visualise anymore. Almost quarter of a MILLION. To this day on AO3, it’s the most viewed Ass Class fic that’s an ACTUAL ass class fic (the others are multi fandom compilations). So yeah, I achieved the original goal, I guess?

Now you might be wondering, “omg the karmagisa fandom is fujoshi trash”. And, considering the origins, it is kind of funny. The thing is, though, TINSITOGS was written at incredibly good time. It was written when there were, essentially, very few long form Karma/Nagisa stories. If any other fics did get posted on occasion, they were usually just oneshots. I was also, at that point, writing very fast. A symptom of ADHD is becoming obsessively productive over certain things. Since I was able to get a 3k chapter out every few days/once a week, TINSITOGS was consistently bumped to the top of AO3′s default view. And some of those first few chapters were altered canon, and transcribing the canon dialogue didn’t take very long. The more views it got, the more people would read it out of sheer curiosity.

I think it also helps that, at least after it started getting some positive feedback (which was honestly after the pre written chapters), I purposely tried to make it ‘not terrible’. I mean, I personally think the first chapter is pretty weak and if it wasn’t somewhat iconic to a lot of people I’d rewrite it. But in general, I purposely tried to make the world of ABO my own, to make it more accessible to those who don’t like that genre, and stay away from the inherently grosser stuff as much as possible. I genuinely do get comments about how I introduced people to the genre as a whole, still not sure if that’s a GOOD thing but hey, it happened.

TINSITOGS turned into a lot more than just a joke. It turned into my favourite hobby. It turned into a research project (honestly, you would not believe the amount of mummy vlogs and legit scientific articles about child development I consumed). It turned into something that, at least I believe, was widely loved.

Meaning

I think it might be wrong to say that I don’t have AN idea of when I started to take the fic super seriously. For me, it was around the time someone commented something along the lines of saying my writing meant a lot to them, that they’d spent all night reading it and had been unable to put it down.

Not to get too dark here, but I do have a past in writing a very long, somewhat popular fic (it’s still on my fanfic net profile if anyone’s interested, but I don’t recommend it). However, in the latter part of my teenage years, the depression struck. Writing was the love of my life, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it anymore. Maybe I’d be able to muster an idea or even a chapter at the best points of that, but I’d never completely finished any story. Starting to write again was a huge step in my recovery, and one of the reasons I convinced myself that life was worth it was being able to impact someone’s life somehow. Even to this day, I still remember the fics I read when I was, like, thirteen. How much I still remember them, and how much they meant to be at the time. I wanted to be that writer for someone else. To be honest, it was actually Yuri!!! On Ice that got me out of the super bad, but I still never wrote anything of real consequence. TINSITOGS was the first time in a long time I actually committed to something.

And, to be completely honest, there were a lot of times I was tired of it, and wanted to just quit. But, the thing was, I felt like people depended on me in a way. I got so many comments that were just FILLED with support, telling me how much they looked forward to every update. It wasn’t just empty words, either, a lot of the times these comments would be super engaged with the actual writing. I can’t even describe just how much they meant to me, how much I would look forward to reading everyone’s opinions. And then discord happened, which was a lot of fun.

TINSITOGS went a lot further than I ever thought it would. There were comments, discussions, fan art, fan FIC (which is honestly incredible to me). Someone even added it to TV Tropes, at one point. Not to mention the Cards Against Humanity deck and quiz It makes me so unbelievably happy that I could inspire that much creativity, but it’s a two way street. It was all of that which inspired me to write, too.

Writing

The only real goal I actually had was aiming for around 3000 words per chapter. I had a whole facebook log of plot points as planning, and I was mostly just trying to expand on them into prose. I honestly thought that, at its completion, the entire fic would be around 100k words, if that. Not, at one point, being literally the longest ass class fic on AO3.

There are a lot of aspects that were directly adapted from the original messages, and I tried to stay faithful to it more so at first, even if I later removed some of the pure crack. But the style was also vaguely similar, with the story being told mostly from Nagisa’s perspective with swaps to Karma when it made sense. All the main plot beats, too, are pretty much identical. The plus to this was I was able to add a lot of really fun foreshadowing, and I feel like it’s a fun reread because of it.

Honestly though, if there’s a demand to release those OG message logs, I will. Mostly because it’s kind of funny, and interesting to see. Isogai and Nagisa were engaged at one point, even.

Obviously, it changed somewhat. 3000 was the minimum length, and the time to completion was whenever it felt right. One of my big concerns was about pacing, so it took a lot more fleshing out and maybe ‘filler’ content for some of the main arcs to work.

There’s parts of TINSITOGS I don’t think aren’t written that well, and some that I’m still super proud of. I think you can definitely tell there’s a gradual shift in style, and I get a lot more comfortable with writing them as characters as it goes along. To be honest, my pride for the fic overall is what it represents.

It is funny to think about the places it got written in, though. I started it when I worked at McDonalds with no life direction, then it went through my first year of university with me. It’s been written in at least four countries. Aeroplanes, night clubs, long haul buses, a train through the Japanese southern coastline. Even the start of covid. TINSITOGS managed to see a lot. I even turned a scene in (the boat scene during the India chapter with altered names) to my university as a legitimate assignment.

There were also a few messages I wanted to achieve, once I realised I had the platform to put them across. One of them was, obviously, ‘use protection kids’. It was important to me that I didn’t glamorise it too much, and I think that came across. I also wanted to dispute some of the issues with ABO, and subvert the consent issues as much as I could. An arc I really ‘liked’ writing was how abuse doesn’t always look the same way, and that it can be a drawn out change in behaviour. How the most important part of ‘being a good parent’ isn’t perfection, but genuinely loving and doing the best you can for your kid. How love doesn’t solve everything, and effective communication can take a very long time to learn and build a functional relationship. I mean, there definitely was a lot I tried to put in, and you’re free to interpret it all how you want. But, I like to think some people learnt some of these things, at least.

Daichi

Honestly, Daichi developed almost of his own free will. I had a good idea of his appearance, and that he was smart. Writing him from birth until around nine years old (older if you read the sequel fic) pretty much allowed that fluidity. It was really fun to explore a nature vs nurture development, and let his own characteristics speak for themselves.

He’ll always have a special place in my heart.

This is the first image I ever made. When I was trying to figure out what Daichi looked like, I honestly just edited Karma’s hair (pretty well, actually? I’m impressed with my past skill). That’s where the ‘he looks just like Karma’ meme kind of came from.

This was the first image I actually created of Daichi. I THINK it was on rinmaru games mega anime creator or something, but it’s literally not available on the internet anymore as far as I can tell, so I can’t double check. This was in the pre-piccrew days. His eyes are closed because they didn’t have the right tone of goldish/silver.

His sister, Kaguya, didn’t even exist originally, even though I decided on that ending pretty early on. Actually, she was going to be called ‘Irina’ due to some hijinks. Initially, when Karma found out about Irina’s pregnancy, she was going to get super emotional and mad at him and basically force him to name his first born daughter after her. Karma agreed to shut her up, never intending to have another child, so when the surprise second child later came along they had to live with the pain. However, to be honest I just forgot to write in the actual scene that set it all up, and I decided against adding it anywhere else. The name Kaguya was a very last minute decision, and it was a chance for me to explore some ideas that didn’t fit with Daichi’s character.

Interestingly too, Daichi and Nao were never intended to be a thing. I only decided that towards the VERY end. Even though the reason I named Nao that was because of a ship I had in a J Drama (Good Morning Call). It just kind of ended up happening because I won myself over with imagining the cute.

The music

I used to write with a lot of background music, though not all the time. Particularly towards the start, there was a lot that didn’t really make sense thematically, yet I would write to a lot.

Here’s a link to the spotify playlist if you want it it’s basically all the ones I noted I’d listened to a lot. Not including the smut ones, though, I have a whole playlist for that.

Some of the notable ones:

Five String Serenade - the first scene I wrote of the entire fic, in Chapter 25 New Year Time where they fell asleep cuddling.

Cosmic Love - when I wrote Nagisa’s love confession scene in hospital (I also wrote this pretty early on)

Northern Downpour (though it was actually a cover by Emma Blackery) - The chapter after Daichi’s born (30)

When The Party’s Over - Confession Time Third Period, Chapter 69. I literally listened to this song on REPEAT when I planned and wrote the kind of ‘break up’ scene, and it’s one of the few parts that made me cry writing.

Turning Page - I know I said no smut, but this song actually gave me the idea to have the “I love you” in chapter 108 be less on a whim and actually more built up. In the original plan, Karma really did just say it without thinking. I’m glad I changed that.

Bury Me Low and Numb - pretty much all I listened to when writing the last few chapters, because Evil Nagisa core. So much so that Bury Me Low was in my top 2020 songs rewind.

As for the title, there’s actually quite a funny story. I had no idea what to call the fic, and when that happens I usually just try and find some song lyrics. I really wanted to use something from ‘October’ by the Broken Bells. Not only because it’s my favourite song (has been for years), but thematically it really worked. The issue was, it worked as the WHOLE song, there were no individual lyrics that captured everything. And, if they did, they didn’t flow very well. And naming the fic ‘October’ would have been weird for a lot of reasons. There Is No Sweeter Innocence That Our Gentle Sin really was just plucked randomly, in a desperate search to find any snappy lyrics from any song that had some kind of meaning. After a bit of discussion, we settled that it kind of worked... if Daichi is innocent and they committed a sin or something. It also wasn’t the most obvious lyric from the song (Take Me To Church if anyone doesn’t know) so I just went with it. It works out, I think, because TINSITOGS turned out to be a pretty good acronym and pronounceable word in its own right.

The merch redbubble drama

It’s a well known fact that I’m not very good at art. However, I decided to try pixel art because it seemed the easiest to not mess up. I made Karma and Nagisa, before deciding to also give Daichi a try.

This, to this day, is the only good quality art of Daichi that I actually own. The only one I’m actually happy sharing and thinking it doesn’t look terrible. As much as I love people sending me fanart, it’s not ‘my property’, right.

So, I was kind of joking about TINSITOGS having merchandise. At first I just made two funny quote things, and uploaded it to redbubble. I was never intending to actually make money from this, and I’d agreed to myself that if I did, I would just donate it to charity. I was joking with the quotes, but since I had this artwork I figured I may as well uploaded. Separately, there was also an image that had pixel Daichi next to pixel Nagisa and Karma (which I also created).

Aside from showing up in a few people’s adverts across the internet, there was no real harm with this. In fact, I didn’t make money anyway. It was just... more the joke of it existing. I did, however, buy myself a Daichi phone case, which is one of my favourite possessions.

The funny ‘drama’ comes in when they got taken down due to copywrite. Sure, the one with Nagisa and Karma, I understand. But the other three literally had no mention or anything to do with Assassination Classroom, aside from being from a fanfiction. So basically, someone who owns those rights claimed my OC as theirs. Which makes Daichi canon? Whatever the case, I found this hilarious don’t worry.

How has TINSITOGS changed my life?

This is quite a strange thing to think about. Because, in a lot of ways, it really hasn’t. As I’m sure a lot of people know, I don’t really consider myself to have any real ‘fame’, despite the impressive numbers. Whenever I tell people in my personal life, they seem to think I’m some sort of internet celebrity, but that’s never been the case for me. I mean, it’s hardly a cultural phenomenon.

In a lot of ways, I’d much rather befriend someone than have them admire me. Possibly because being someone’s inspiration is kind of weird... I’m just an awkward duck who likes to write after all. I don’t mind it, though. I genuinely find it an honour, even if I don’t necessarily agree. I also want to take this time to say that if anyone ever wants to talk or message me, you’re more than free to do so. I’m usually super casual with people who do that, I promise.

TINSITOGS was the first story I ever finished in the way I truly wanted to. Start to end, a full narrative. And it took a LOT. There were so many times I almost felt like quitting, or took super long breaks. For me, ADHD queen, actually finishing something was a huge deal. And I know I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t owe it to everyone who read it, and myself, to see it through. You know like, if I were to die tomorrow, at least I’ve left something behind.

In a lot of ways, it’s changed me for the better. It’s helped me develop my writing styles, and way of thinking. It encouraged me to become more active in the fandom, and develop some important friendships. I always feel like my Tumblr and Fanfiction ‘known’ factor is separate. I think most of my Tumblr following is more to do with my theories/Japanese context research if anything, for example, but I know I wouldn’t be so interested in that if TINSITOGS hadn’t lead me to deeply examine character and really look into analysing source material for clues. I also think there’s just... a lot of myself in it.

I was 17 years old, when I first came up with the idea. I finished the story when I was 20. Now, at the time of writing, I’m 21. That time has seen some pretty significant changes - just in general life facts and my own personal human development. For me at least, a lot of that was pretty turbulent, and TINSITOGS stands as a time capsule for that, in a way.

I know I gained a lot of confidence, and it affirmed to me that writing is what I love. Telling stories and sharing them is what I love.

Conclusion

Do I think TINSITOGS is an outstanding piece of writing, or the best fic ever? No. I really don’t. It’s strange to say because I definitely spent a lot of time on it, but it’s not like I put my full unbridled efforts into the story. I don’t fully plan, use a beta, or even read through on my own. And that’s okay - that’s not what I write fanfiction for. Fanfiction is my place to have fun with characters and stories I like, without the pressures of having to stand on my own complete originality. Yes, I’m fully confident that I can write at a “higher quality”, if I really wanted to. I’m also aware that some authors put their full effort into their fics, and that’s just as valid!

It feels odd to say this about my own writing, but I honestly think there’s just something in this story. It might not be written in the best prose ever, and the premise might be kind of dumb for a lot of people. But, I think, there’s some part of this fic that managed to grab people. Somehow, at some point, many readers get captured into the emotions and so drawn in that ‘they just have to finish it now!’ Again, I’m not sure myself how I actually achieved that. Of course, that won’t apply to everyone, but I do feel there’s some truth in it. And it makes me happy, to have caused that.

If TINSITOGS is your favourite fic, or if you genuinely think it’s the best story you’ve read, then thank you. I really appreciate your support, and I’m happy to have been a part of your life, I guess. I know how much fanfics can mean to a person, and that’s why I’m not going to take it down, or edit it at all. And it’s fine too, if you loved the fic for a while and moved on -i t happens. Whatever the case, I’m very honoured to have been able to occupy a moment of your life. Or if you find this fic in 10 years time, even, I still wholly appreciate you.

This story was incredibly important to me, and thank you for reading if it was ever important to you too.

You may ask, what now? Well, this is only intended to be a detailed look back for whoever’s interested, and it’s likely the only one I’ll actually do, a year after completion. Of course, if you ever want to ask me anything or just discuss the story, you’re honestly good to contact me in whatever way I have available.

I’m still writing my ongoing stories, of course, despite taking a small break due to the university work load. I fully intend to complete the stories I’ve already started to tell, at least. After that... I’m not sure if I’ll still write fanfiction. Don’t panic, this isn’t a ‘I’m quitting writing’ thing. I may, however, have bled the Karmagisa genre a bit too dry at that point. Who knows? I am pretty interested in writing something original for once, so maybe that’ll work out.

For now, at least, thank you to anyone who read this fic. To anyone who commented, liked, or interacted with me over it. To anyone who created or learnt from it. I’m really glad that I got to share this story with you all, and ultimately left some kind of mark, no matter how big or small.

Happy birthday, TINSITOGS. I had a lot of fun writing you.

#ass class #assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #tinsitogs #karmagisa

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Chase the Shadows Away (Taywhora) - Juno

Summary: It’s April 2020, the UK is in lockdown, and Tayce gets a hand-delivered letter from her neighbour Aurora which may change her life.

A/N: So this is set during lockdown and does mention covid, so please bear this in mind when reading if this will be a worry, but otherwise I hope you enjoy. CWs in place for alcohol, mental health mentions, and non-adherence to lockdown rules at one point.

Otherwise it’s quite fluffy with some h/c. I hope you enjoy.

The first letter Tayce got was in early April.

She hadn’t had much post since the whole country had been locked down, no one allowed to move outside their front doors for more than once a day for threat of fines and penalties and even getting sick. Most of the letters she was getting this week had been birthday cards for her absent housemate. She’d put the various brightly-coloured cards and Amazon boxes in a pile outside Viv’s bedroom door, and gave the pile the middle finger every time she walked past it.

But today there was a plain, white envelope, with “Hi” written on it in glittery red pen, and when Tayce opened it, she found a piece of notebook paper that had been folded at least four times, and Tayce nearly threw it across the room with the effort it was taking to open.

This had better be worth it.

When she got it unfolded, she read the three lines in the same glitter pen, then again, and once more just in case.

‘Hi, I’m Aurora. I’m on my own in my flat 7D because my housemate moved home because of lockdown, and you seem to be alone too. Want to write to each other? X’

And Tayce couldn’t hold back the rush of emotion, as much as she tried - but she was alone, and she took comfort knowing only these four walls would see tears stream down her face.

——

Tayce was on her own in the flat.

In the day time she opened her work laptop, thanking god she was allowed to work from home; throwing a hoodie over her pyjama top just in time for the 9am meeting where her boss grinned at everyone and told them all to keep swimming and chin up and whatever other self-indulgent bullshit she had read in her How To Motivate Your Teammanual in the chapter about Managing Pandemics.

Tayce was still surprised at how much bullshit her workmates seemed to swallow; all of them with the same broad smiles and straightened hair and shaved chins and eyeliner, for fuck’s sake - but Tayce copied them, knowing that not painting her own smile and her own eyebrows on was damning herself for the inevitable call and the simpering It’s Good To Talk conversation, followed by u k hun xx to be flashing repeatedly in the work WhatsApp group from all the team.

In the evenings, the only noise was the clink of the glass bottle against the wine glass. One glass was enough to make her a little sleepy, two was enough to make her dance, and three was enough to make her post something cryptic on her insta story and see if anyone DMed her.

Sometimes they did.

Joe liked to crack a few morbid jokes about how it was the apocalypse and we were all going to be dead by 2021, which didn’t help Tayce in the slightest. Ginny would message “You alright, bab?” at three in the morning, but never reply to any other message. Tia would send Tayce a picture of the banana bread she’d baked as if that would cheer Tayce up.

And Cherry sent her a message one time, telling her to look after her mental health, and then Tayce felt bad because Cherry worked for the NHS and only seemed to work and sleep right now, her insta photos showing her looking more and more gaunt, with #ClapForHeroes and #ProtectTheNHS appearing at the bottom of all her posts.

Nothing curbed the gaping black hole in Tayce’s chest, sucking everything that was good from her body and leaving her a shell.

Until the letter arrived.

——

Two days after she’d posted her own letter back to 7D, another letter arrived, in the same glittery red pen, this time addressed to her, with Tayce written on the front of the envelope this time.

‘Hi Tayce (sp?) nice to meet you, don’t worry I don’t know what to say either! Where in Wales are you from? I’m from Nottingham but I came to London for uni and didn’t leave! Are you still working rn? I got furloughed which is a bit shit. And my housemate is staying with her boyfriend so she can’t move back. Have you been clapping for the NHS? Someone on my floor was banging a pan or something!! Hope your ok? WB Aurora xx’

“I’m making a new friend,” Tayce had said to her mum on the phone later that night.

“In lockdown?”

“She’s delivering me letters.”

“How?”

“By hand, mum.” Tayce forced a laugh. “You know. Through the letterbox like a normal letter.”

“I hope you’re washing your hands before and after you open them, are you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tayce grimaced as she said it.

“Good. Stay safe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

One of these days, Tayce thought as she disconnected the call, she might be able to say it without her voice breaking.

——

By mid-April, a full month since lockdown had started and two weeks after the first letters between them, Aurora had given Tayce her instagram handle, and Tayce had given hers in return. Tayce found herself spending all of her Good Friday skimming down the page on moreauroramore, looking through all of her new pen pal’s photos and trying desperately not to look like an idiot by accidentally double-tapping any that were obviously over a year old.

Tayce had pictured Aurora in her mind as being over-excitable, short, with dark hair and lots of dusty pinks and baby blues and other pastel colours as her aesthetic, maybe with pot plants and cat pictures and cutesy little slogans surrounded by hearts. Instead she’d found a smolderingly attractive woman with a ridiculously versatile and sophisticated sense of fashion; one photo in a rococo-inspired summer dress, and the next in a cerulean blazer, matching trousers, and stilettos. Her hair was platinum-blonde, but it was hard to tell her eye colour as she seemed to own a never-ending plethora of colour contacts; and the eyebrow ring in the early pictures was replaced by a silver septum ring in later ones.

Her own insta looked quite plain in comparison, Tayce thought to herself. The landscapes she liked to post were interesting to her but probably not to the magnificent person on Aurora’s insta. The last picture Tayce had taken was of herself with her brother and niece in red rugby shirts just before the Six Nations was on; the last selfie before the last time she’d gone home which was … only February, she realised.

February felt like years ago.

When Tayce had awoken the next morning, she was greeted by the doorbell, and an Amazon driver sprinting away the moment she opened the door. A letter was on the doormat, in the familiar red glittery pen, and a single chocolate Easter egg.

‘Happy Easter Tayce. Don’t know if you celebrate but lol thought you would like some chocolate anyway! Don’t eat it all at once. Aurora xx’

It made Tayce’s gut wrench with guilt that she hadn’t thought to get Aurora one.

But it made Tayce even more pained, once she had clicked onto her instagram, to see that moreauroramore had liked all thirteen of the pictures she’d posted this year.

——

The zoom call at the end of April with the others from her uni group, saw not just Cherry missing, but also Ellie and Veronica.

“Ellie’s moving this week,” Lawrence nodded at the screen, “but that was all she’d tell me. She didn’t say where. Or if she’s staying in Dundee or anything. I just know she’s still trying to get her internet set up and I think she’s a bit stuck.”

“What about Vee?” Ginny asked in a low voice.

They all recognised the somber tone. They’d all taken it up. A change in their voices that all of them recognised in a kind of collective telepathic awareness. A hush in the calls, as if someone were dying, or had just died. Whenever anyone was missing, it was always the same worry circling all of their minds: what if it’s covid what if it’s covid what if it’s -

Tia was shaking her head. “It’s not covid,” she said, reading the minds of everyone through the internet, but her voice was still solemn as she continued. “I spoke to her mum. She’s -“

“Say depressed, Tia, it’s fine.” Bimini spoke gently, but not all of them were as open as Bimini was. Especially when it came to Veronica, who was a brick wall when it came to showing what she was feeling.

“She’s - not in a good place.”

“Say mental health,” Bimini said, shaking their head. “It’s okay to not be okay.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna make her feel any better, Bim.” Tia rolled her eyes.

“We’re all feeling this,” Pip nodded. “We all need to talk to each other.”

“Veronica won’t. Not yet. We just need to be there for her when she does. Anyway, who’s done anything interesting? Anyone else been trying banana bread? Everyone managed to find bogroll from somewhere now? No one is having the same problem that Joe had when she -“

“I don’t think we need to go any further with that one, love,” Joe muttered.

“I’ve made a pen friend.”

Everyone sat in stunned silence at Tayce’s sentence, mouths open like fish at feeding time.

“A pen friend? What is this, 1986?”

“Shut up, Ginny. I think that’s kind of cute, actually,” Tia mused, tilting her head to one side.

Tayce nodded. “Something a bit different. She lives in my block of flats. Two floors up from me. Been nice, to talk to someone, ever since Viv buggered off to her boyfriend’s house. Seriously, as soon as Boris announced lockdown she was jumping in her car and off to Liverpool.”

“You said she was a bit flaky,” Tia said sympathetically. “What’s your new pen pal’s name?”

“Aurora.”

“A-what?” Ginny raised their eyebrows. “Can we just call her Rory?”

“No.”

“We should get her on a call with us when Veronica’s back. Ronni and Rory, sounds like Ant and Dec will have some stiff competition when they get wind of that.”

“Ginny -“ Tia began, but Tayce was trying to hold back a chuckle.

——

‘Someone is talking about a street party on the 8th of May. Are you gonna go? I was gonna stay indoors but if you’re gonna go outside i will too xx’

Tayce knew she shouldn’t be thinking of meeting strangers outside her flat while the pandemic was ongoing, but she hadn’t seen a familiar human since March other than on a zoom call screen.

‘Hi Aurora, yeah i will go outside for a little bit. Look forward to meeting you properly instead of over letters! Tayce’

And Tayce finally stopped hesitating, adding two kisses on the end for the first time.

The weather was meant to be lush for a May bank holiday, as Tayce knew because her colleagues wouldn’t shut up about it. Almost eight weeks of lockdown were beginning to show the cracks in all their faces - no more eyeliner, and even Linda in Accounts had stopped posting boomerang videos of her kids doing Joe Wicks workouts while she waved her arms behind them.

So Tayce was over the moon when Friday rolled around and she could slam the Dismiss button on her phone alarm, turn over and sleep in until noon. Once she woke up though, she sat up with a jolt in her bed and realised she’d have to get ready; somehow it was important that she looked right today.

It was a power play, she knew it. An armour. But there was just something about clothes that made her mood turn in an instant. Her favourite leather jacket was probably a bit too heavy for the warm sunshine - warm sunshine? In May? - so she opted for the black denim instead and a skirt that hugged her slender figure, leaving her hair loose and wishing she’d gone for a trim before the lockdown. Maybe she should take her scissors to it?

She held the only scissors she had to hand - a pair of craft scissors - and wondered what her hairdresser mum would say if she knew that her daughter had taken non-styling scissors to the 30-inches of hair that she had.

No - better not. Her mum could give her a go over once the lockdown period had ended.

Someone was playing tunes on a speaker already when Tayce came down the stairs, dragging the garden chair Viv had left behind and brushing the digestive crumbs off it. One of the neighbours she recognised from her floor handed her an ice-cold can of Fosters which she sipped, not really enjoying the taste but relishing the freedom of it all. She knew to keep two metres from everyone, and she knew Cherry would absolutely murder her if she disobeyed that rule.

As soon as Aurora came into view from the block of flats, Tayce knew that keeping to the two metre rule would prove a little harder than she had first thought.

Aurora’s insta pictures showed a fashion model trapped in a little box on a screen, striving to get out - but in the flesh, she looked as if she had just rolled out of the living room after a Tiger King marathon. The grey jogging bottoms paired with the crop top and zip-up hoodie were probably too warm for today - 23 degrees, the radio kept repeating - but she made them look so effortless and stylish that Tayce suddenly wanted to buy some. Her platinum hair was piled in a messy bun, dark brown roots showing but the lackadaisical nature made it seem like Aurora meant it that way.

On her insta page, Aurora was way out of Tayce’s league; but here in life, she seemed a lot more accessible, a lot calmer, a lot more real.

Maybe it’s armour for her too. All this perfection in the photos. God. Why did I wear this?

She dropped her own deck chair down a reasonable distance from Tayce, taking another can of Fosters from the same neighbour and cracking it open. She took a swig, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and waved.

“Hi, Tayce. Here we are, then!”

“Yeah,” was the only thing Tayce could think of in response. Really cool. Very clever.

But Aurora was talking animatedly about how much she’d missed the sun, as she pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and leaned back against the deck chair, claiming “Tesco are having them on sale - two for £12, so I got two - what else am I gonna do on furlough other than sunbathe!”

And the more the Fosters flowed - their neighbour’s 24-pack almost completely gone before 5pm, he seemingly wanting to give a can to the whole block - the more Aurora opened up her life history to Tayce.

How much she wished she was still in Worksop and could go on the long walks into the forest. How she’d give anything to hug her mum, a care-worker, and how she FaceTimed her shielding grandad every Sunday at 6.30 just after he finished his tea.

But most of all, how lonely it was every single night being alone in a flat in a huge city. Aurora dabbed her watery eyes with her thumbs as she described how much she loved everything that London had to offer when it was full of people, not dead to the world like it was now - and in this hollow place that lockdown was, she’d discovered that a city - any city, however exciting - was just a built-up area if you had no one to share it with.

Tayce hadn’t expected to cry. She’d cried maybe once or twice this whole time in lockdown, still too numb to have taken everything in that was happening. But the moment she’d opened her mouth, suddenly the Fosters had started talking for her too, and she was spilling out her worries onto the pavement below them as Aurora rubbed her back.

How her mum was furloughed from the hairdresser and her dad was always out in the lorry up and down the country. Her brother and sister-in-law, and her niece, were all still fine in Newport, but Tayce had missed her niece’s birthday, having to settle for blowing her a kiss down FaceTime and promising her through gritted teeth and cold fear that she’d give her the biggest cwtch ever as soon as this was over.

But now Tayce was in tears again, this time on Aurora’s shoulder, releasing her sorrows onto this woman who she had only exchanged written words with; now seeing her true soul laid bare in emotions that just refused to stop once she started. Aurora’s gentle hands ghosted through her hair, but then gripped Tayce tightly to her chest, planting a long, tender kiss on her hairline.

How had this happened? How had social distancing become this? Two people, thinking they were islands, clinging to one another for dear life?

Tayce held her for too long.

Aurora’s hands froze as she realised what she had done at the same moment Tayce had.

Cherry is gonna kill me.

Aurora walked with Tayce back to her flat as the sun was setting. It was nine in the evening, the heat finally starting to break, and both of them were aching and tired, spent from their tears. Aurora gave Tayce’s hand a gentle squeeze but said nothing else, her eyes red underneath her sunglasses, and Tayce had felt herself harden once again, turning the key in the door and closing the outside world back to where it should be.

——

After two weeks had passed, both of them not developing any symptoms after their contact, Tayce had an idea.

She put the letter through the letterbox in 7D at midday when she broke for lunch, and had a reply by half past one, a new record for Aurora.

‘Tayce, I’d love to form a support bubble with you. I thought you would have one already thats why i didn’t ask! Want to put on a film tonight and just chill? Bubble bud? Aurora xx’

So Tayce saw inside Aurora’s flat for the first time that same evening. After work, she practically sprinted up the stairs, thankful to get away from more of u k hun xx and her still-simpering colleagues.

It was very clean, as if it had only just been cleaned that day - freshly-washed surfaces, hoovered carpets, a sparkling bathroom - and Tayce marvelled at how tidy and orderly things were, a stark contrast from her own living space which had evolved into a nest of mess by now. Aurora’s living room and kitchen space were one area, with a mismatched sofa and chair facing the tv screen, hooking up a PS4 - Tayce hadn’t counted Aurora as a Dishonoured player either. The wall opposite the window was filled with small pictures of past fashion models - Kate Moss, Agyness Deyn, Cara Delevigne - all with matte black frames which had obviously been painted in lockdown, as one was on the coffee table drying over a copy of Hello magazine.

“My housemate’s not coming back, I can see it happening now,” Aurora shrugged, “so why not make the house the way I like it while I look for someone else to live with?”

Aurora poured Tayce a huge glass of wine, and that was followed by another; while she topped up her own glass liberally and kept shifting on the sofa as if trying to get comfortable. Tayce, for her part, took the chair instead, while Aurora tapped on the PlayStation controller to try to get Netflix up. The more she drank, the more cumbersome the controller seemed to become in her hands, until Tayce leaned over and took it away from her, Aurora’s fingers lingering a little too long on it before relinquishing.

When Aurora got up, meaning to pour them both a fourth glass of wine, she slipped on something and tumbled into Tayce’s lap in the chair, tittering something that sounded like “god I’m clumsy” through the giggles that came from her, unable to stop. Tayce slapped her on the back as she started coughing, but as that died down, Aurora straightened up, picking up Tayce’s hand in hers and drawing her up and away to join her on the sofa.

Lockdown had been so fucking lonely.

Aurora’s hand in hers was all Tayce needed to dissolve every wall she was still rebuilding from May Bank Holiday.

Aurora’s eyes were on her, she knew; through her peripheral vision as she tried desperately to cling to her focus on whatever episode of Tiger King this was.

When Tayce finally met her gaze, she averted it, turning her face to the window opposite them. Almost … playfully.

So Tayce looked back at the TV screen, but Aurora’s hand squeezed at hers, thumb in her palm pressing right in the centre, the pressure somehow travelling all the way to her gut. Tayce turned back to her, and this time Aurora did not look away.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Aurora looked at her through her eyelashes, lips parted in a smirk, curiously searching Tayce with her gaze as if wondering what her next move would be.

Tayce blinked incredulously. “Me? Like this? What do you mean, I’m gorgeous? Have you seen yourself?”

“And that accent, oh my days -“

“Go to Newport, we all sound like this.”

But the wine was hitting hard now and oh god lockdown is so fucking lonely and Tayce’s feet on the floor suddenly felt unsteady and Aurora was so fucking close to her on the sofa -

——

Once the hangover was gone, the memory of rest of the night felt like a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Tayce wasn’t entirely sure when she’d gone back to her flat, but she had, long before night had fully fallen and long after she was sure the burgeoning friendship she was finally making with someone lay in tatters two floors up from her.

The wine had washed away the strength she’d had, leaving her raw and vulnerable, and all the affection that had been growing since Aurora had first held her bubbled and burst into life. And Aurora must have felt the same magnetic pull, drawing them together across the sofa, nail marks still present in Tayce’s back that she could see in the mirror, a bruise forming on Tayce’s collarbone as Aurora had dipped a little lower.

It had been Tayce who had halted it - not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because she couldn’t decipher how much of this was affection and how much of this was just two lonely people, starved of company, starved of normality, seeking and clinging to it in any form.

And now it was the following day, and Tayce still didn’t know.

The group call at the end of the day was interesting. She stretched over the back of the sofa in her living room to grab her water, and that must have been enough to flash a sliver of skin.

“What’s that?” Lawrence asked loudly, prompting everyone else to go quiet. “Tayce? What’s that on your chest, hmm?”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“You’re not wearing your glasses, Ginny, you can’t see shit. What’s that on your chest? Why d’you have a bruise there?”

“Hi!” Ellie’s voice as she joined the call unexpectedly saved Tayce any further embarrassment; everyone shrieked when she came on, having missed the last two zoom calls following her move. “Thank God my internet is working now, I’ve missed all your faces!”

Tayce silently thanked Ellie’s timing and contentedly listened to the rest of them as they chatted about everything and nothing that they’d all missed. All of them were there; even Cherry showed up about twenty minutes in to wave at them and blow them kisses, her face even more pallid than before; before ducking back out to go to bed.

Only Veronica was still missing.

“She’s been messaging me,” Tia explained, “and she said she’s feeling a bit better, but since she got furloughed, she’s feeling like there’s no point getting out of bed or getting ready because there’s nowhere to go.”

“Send her some love,” Tayce said, but Tia snorted.

“You send her it! She’s gonna feel better if she knows we all miss her.”

It was true though, Tayce realised after they all disconnected. They all seemed to be drifting apart, no more energy to continue with these online gatherings, even though there were so many virtual meetup groups and apps that there almost seemed to be no excuse now.

She looked back through her phone messages. She hadn’t messaged Veronica since early April, taking her silence as a sign that she wanted to be left alone; but what if it wasn’t? Veronica was a closed fist, everyone knew that. And Tayce’s brother? Again, early April, and a quick call the week after for her niece’s birthday.

Lockdown, and self-isolation, seemed to be one and the same.

So Tayce spent the rest of the afternoon sending messages to everyone she had neglected since then. Maybe they would reply, and maybe they wouldn’t - but there was no harm in reaching out, no negative consequences.

By the end of the day, she was fielding messages back and forth from everyone she thought she’d lost through lockdown, the grey cloud over her head starting to lift, the fuzzy feeling disappearing and clarity settling in. She felt light, lighter than she had in weeks; and warm as the summery days they were getting in this late-May spring.

Towards the end of the day, she got a message back from Veronica at last.

Veronica: I’m doing ok. I got up and went for a walk today just to the park and back. It’s really nice although my hay fever sucks. Thanks for checking in on me i appreciate it x Veronica: Oh also Tia said you had a hickey on the group call haha tell me what her name is x

Tayce was surprised to realise she was grinning at the phone as she read Veronica’s message, her fingers stroking the mark on her collarbone as if to savour the vivid image that it sparked in her head.

——

It was three days after their drunken kiss on the sofa that Tayce had another letter through the door. The same red glittery pen, the same scrawl, but the writing a little smaller as if Aurora wanted to diminish herself.

‘Hi Tayce. I’m really sorry if i came on too strong this week. Can we go back to friends? Want to hang out tonight, bubble bud? Aurora xx’

Tayce swallowed down the part of her that immediately rose up and cried that she … didn’t want to just be friends.

Then it hit her.

God. I only met this girl properly this month. What’s wrong with me?

But she replied and immediately started clearing the house.

She put the pile of Viv’s birthday cards and presents from the hallway floor into a cupboard under the sink, giving it the middle finger again; put the six-weeks worth of laundry on to wash; cleaned all the dishes; and dragged the hoover out of the tiny airing cupboard and got to work on the carpets. The hard floors she swept, and carried the bin bags out to the communal bins, all before midday.

“Who needs Joe Wicks workouts?” She muttered to herself, panting, as she tugged some marigolds over her hands to sort out the rest of the kitchen.

By the time it was six, and time for Aurora to arrive, Tayce thought the house looked much better, and honestly, she felt much better too. The little spring clean she’d given the place had cleared a little clutter from her head as well.

It’s nothing to worry about. She’d just coming over for food and -

Tayce grimaced as she realised she hadn’t thought of what to do for food. She thought back to the beans on toast she’d had at four and kicked herself for not thinking of that. Dominos was still delivering, so she brought up the app and busied herself looking through the list of pizzas.

Aurora hadn’t arrived by ten past six, and Tayce started to worry.

Maybe she’s changed her mind.

But Tayce refused to let that thought take any root. She looked at the clock, which of course seemed to slow down from having eyes on it, and firmly told herself that she would message Aurora at quarter past if she wasn’t here before.

With a minute to spare, Aurora turned up, grinning merrily and waving the bottle of rose in Tayce’s face.

“Hey bubble bud! Sorry I’m late, well I’m always late, sorry in advance if you expect me on time for anything!” Aurora took a step inside and her jaw dropped. “Wow, your place is well nice!”

“Thanks,” Tayce grinned, although she wasn’t sure what Aurora was looking at. Tayce wasn’t allowed anything on the walls from what her landlord said, but Aurora wouldn’t stay still - checking out the titles of the handful of CDs Tayce had brought down to London with her; scanning a nail along the books on the shelf above the TV.

“It’s nice to hold a book sometimes,” Tayce shrugged, “rather than just read it on the kindle app.”

When Aurora got to the kitchen, Tayce cringed. She’d have to confess.

“I haven’t got in anything to eat. Only - only some bread.”

“And pot noodles,” Aurora added, opening a cupboard and helping herself to the contents as if she’d lived here her whole life.

“And pot - oh, are you thinking, maybe …”

“No way!” Aurora slammed the cupboard door and grabbed her keys again. “Be right back!”

Ten minutes later and Tayce was at the hob over the oven with Aurora, dicing onions while she cut up a red pepper, mince that Aurora had grabbed from her own fridge was out and ready to go in too.

“I needed to use that up anyway,” she shrugged. “Please tell me you don’t just eat bread and pot noodles, Tayce, please. I need to give you a cooking crash course if you do! Didn’t you learn to cook at uni? Or didn’t you do much cooking before you went? Oh my days - no fry the onion off first, with the garlic - I’ll chop the mushrooms, Jesus Christ pot noodles …”

“I know how to cook, give me some credit!” Tayce murmured, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “I just haven’t been to the shop yet, it’s been a long week.”

Aurora closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation. “Just keep talking to me, please.”

“What about?”

“Anything! Your life, your family - I don’t know, house prices, I don’t care - but that accent, ugh -“ Aurora shivered.

“Yours is cute, too,” Tayce smirked.

Aurora looked at her reproachfully. “You’re lying.”

“Yeah, I am.”

It was no use. The air was full of electricity, static around them, and before Tayce knew what was happening, suddenly they were kissing again, this time stone-cold sober, while the onions burned shadows into the bottom of the pan.

——

Viv gave her notice on the flat at the start of June.

“I just can’t afford to live here anymore,” she explained, sighing, when she got back and started to pack up everything in her room. “I’m gonna see if I can get some work back home.”

Tayce was numb, although she knew Viv didn’t mean it personally. It wasn’t her fault that she’d been made redundant straight after the lockdown ended, and it made sense that she wanted to be near her family. It was now four months since Tayce had seen hers, and she missed them every day, although she had been sticking religiously to her new routine of calling her parents every Saturday night and her brother’s family every Sunday afternoon.

“I’m sorry that’s putting you in a tight spot, Tayce,” Viv muttered, hugging her, and Tayce hugged her back.

“Can’t be helped,” Tayce replied, which was all she could think to respond with that wasn’t an inarticulate growl in frustration.

Viv was adamant she would pay her final month’s rent, and pay her half the utilities even though she wasn’t there. But she had to go home.

“How was your move?” Tayce asked Ellie on the next group call on zoom.

“Shite,” Ellie replied, “but partly because we struggled finding someone to move us. There’s plenty of places around, plenty of places to rent and stuff, because everyone’s moved back to where they came from.”

“You’ll find somewhere else to live, bab,” Ginny murmured in a soothing voice to Tayce, stroking the side of the laptop screen as she liked to do to show affection now that she couldn’t hug anyone.

“I know,” Tayce sighed. “It’s just a pain in the arse.”

She wasted no time. One of the spare room websites was always open in the background, and she was refreshing, looking maybe a little further out from central London to see if anywhere was cheaper, but nowhere was.

Then she spotted the dot in her own block of flats, and clicked the advert.

That’s - that’s Aurora’s flat.

Now she remembered. Aurora had mentioned something about her housemate moving out! It must now be official.

She read through the advert - how was it £50 cheaper than what she was already paying? - and looked at the contact name for the housemate, and there it was in black and white pixels: Aurora Martin, use form below.

Grabbing a piece of notebook paper - one of the last bits left, she’d been ripping them all out to write to Aurora - she penned a letter, one of what might well be the last ones, and jogged upstairs to post it through her letterbox.

The response came back to her in less than an hour, a new record for Aurora.

‘Tayce! I’d love it if you wanted to move in here! OMG. My landlord will want references from yours, but if you can get them quick then he can approve you really fast, he’s working from home. OMG you made my day. Come up at 7pm xx’

“Work contacted me today too,” Aurora beamed as she settled with Tayce on the sofa. “They want me to start back next week! Can’t wait. Need to get that coin again now! I mean, I’m dead grateful, you know, that I still have my job and I was on furlough so the government paid most of my wages, but it will be nice to have the full package again!”

“What is it you do again?” Tayce asked.

“Oh - I work as a fashion buyer. But because fashion’s kind of stopped right now, most of the designers are shut. Reopening now, especially the ones in mainland Europe! Can’t wait to be on the phone to them all again.”

“Wait. You speak to designers in other countries?”

Aurora nodded. “I speak French and Spanish.”

“You -“ Tayce was dazed. “I didn’t know that!”

“Well why would you? I mean you’ve only known me a couple of months!” Aurora laughed, and leaned back closer to Tayce, her perfume overwhelmingly sweet in the air. “You’re not gonna know everything about me yet, bubble bud.”

“No,” Tayce purred, “but I can’t wait to find out.”

——

By the Monday after the move, early July, Tayce was all set up to go. She’d moved the bed into the corner as she liked it, arranged her books into a rainbow as she liked them, and unfurled the posters she’d been unable to hang in her last flat, mostly punk bands that she liked, Bimini’s band’s poster, and the noticeboard with all the tickets tacked to it of all the gigs she’d been to. The vanity with the mirror that she’d brought from home fitted perfectly next to the window so she could do her makeup with natural light; and it was large enough for her work setup, which was where she was now.

The flat layout was almost identical to the one she’d just left, and the room was the same one - Aurora having the slightly bigger room - but it felt a lot more comforting, knowing she wasn’t alone here any more, knowing she had a little more freedom in decorations, and knowing that the hollow feeling in her chest was starting to slow down for good.

She turned off her work laptop at five as normal, which was when Aurora came in. Tayce pulled her in, giving her a peck on the lips.

“They’re gonna love you, I promise.”

Aurora just made a moan in the back of her throat and put her face in her hands, shrinking away from the vanity.

Tayce turned on her personal laptop, logging into zoom and connecting to the group chat. Her monthly uni call was set to half four today for some reason, and everyone else was already all there.

“Tayce! We wondered where you’d got to!”

It was Veronica’s voice, and Veronica’s face was in the top left. She still looked a little tired, and the shirt she was wearing looked suspiciously like a pyjama top, but she was here with them all, and this was a big step for her.

Tayce beamed at her. “So good to see you!”

“The move went alright then, bab?” Ginny asked.

Tayce nodded. “And there’s someone you should meet.” She pulled Aurora into frame, who still looked uncharacteristically shy for a moment before waving at the people on the screen. “This is Aurora.”

“Aurora!” Tia squeaked. “Like the princess!”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“So we’ve got Rory and Ronni here together at last!” Lawrence exclaimed, while Veronica gave the camera two fingers.

But Tayce just grinned at her friends on the screen, far apart but together in this strange way. Aurora’s nails dug into her shoulder, still a little nervous, but even that was fading as she got more comfortable.

Aurora had been right - the city was just a lot of bricks in intricate patterns without someone in it that made it a home.

And this just might be becoming one.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #tayce #a'whora #taywhora #ginny lemon #lawrence chaney #veronica green #tia kofi #ellie diamond #uk2 #lesbian au #fluff #hurt/comfort #juno #tw covid lockdown #tw mental health mentions #submission

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zevlors-tail · 5 years ago

Text

Lonely With You

Pairing: ProHero!Izuku x GN ProHero!Reader

Warnings: Self doubt, self deprecating thoughts/words, cursing, reader is very angry in the beginning and throws something if that’s a trigger for anyone (doesn’t throw it directly at anything or anything in particular), lots of crying on reader’s part, song fic, tooth rotting fluff at the end. <3

A/N: Song fic! Sports by Beach Bunny. I said I couldn’t write shit but here we are. I just one shotted this thing in the span of like 3 hours and in 3 more hours, I have to go into work with no sleep. :’) But really it’s fine bc I had motivation and I DID THE THING. I wrote something I kind of liked! I am obsessed with this song right now, so suffer with me I guess.

The second you stormed into the house and slammed the door shut behind you, Izuku could tell something was off. Sure, you had your bad days, but somehow this was different.

“Hi, love! How was your da-” Before he could even finish, you cut him off with an angry look and a short response.

“Fucking awful. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Izuku knew better than to take your short response personally, though he would be lying if he said it didn’t irk him in the slightest. However, you didn’t curse often, and using the “F” word usually meant you were at your wits end with whatever situation you were dealing with. He watched you as you strode past the kitchen with blind rage and threw down your headpiece to your hero costume. A piece of it actually busted off from how hard you had chucked it across the room, nearly missing his eye as it flew past him and making him visibly flinch.

Upon seeing his reaction, you immediately stopped in your tracks and snapped out of your fit of anger, concern for your partner taking over you instead. “Shit-! Izu, I’m so sorry, are you alright!?” Tears welled in your eyes as you panicked and checked his face over for any collateral damage, and when you could find none, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“I’m fine, Y/N. Are...you okay? I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, but you look really...upset.” He struggled to find the right words for a moment. You looked upset, sure, but it was more than that. There was a foreign look in your eyes he hadn’t seen before, something heavy and dark lurking behind your usually bright orbs. His heart couldn’t help but ache for the look you gave him.

If you feel lonely, I could be lonely with you. Tell me baby, why do you seem so blue?

You broke down in tears within seconds, cries of frustration and anguish clawing their way up from your ribcage to your throat. Today had drained you for all your worth and made you feel utterly exhausted. But if you were being honest, this had been going on much longer than just a day. It just so happened that today’s events had been the last straw for you and left you feeling defeated. Months of self doubt and anxieties were finally catching up to you, and now you were paying the price.

Izuku wrapped his arms around you tightly and held your head to his chest as you hiccuped. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He nuzzled his face into your hair before pressing a sweet kiss to your crown, his hand sliding to your back to rub comforting circles.

“I’m no good,” you managed between sobs. “I’m a terrible hero, and I should just quit while I’m ahead. I’ll never amount to anything useful. All I do is get in the way and cause problems for others!” You continued to cry while Izuku let you vent, although it took everything he had in him not to interject that all of those things couldn’t be further from the truth.

Why are we so complicated? Maybe love is overrated...

“I’m a failure. I failed my mission and if it wasn’t for Uravity...” You let out a strangled cry as you admitted what was weighing you down so heavily. “They almost died! They almost died, and it would have been all my fault! If I had just pushed myself harder, if I had done more, then- then- then none of this would have happened!”

“Oh, love...no.”

“I should just do everyone a favor and stop being a Pro. My manager did always say I was better as a sidekick, anyway,” you laughed bitterly at the memory, distracted only for a moment before returning to crying, albeit a little quieter. “I’m ready to give up. Everything I do is wrong... I don’t think I’m cut out for this anymore.”

I’m tired of waiting! I was never good at sports; save the games for the girls on the tennis courts.

Izuku sighed softly before cupping your face in his hands and gazing intently at you. “Y/N Y/L/N, you are not a failure. You are the light of my life and the best thing to have ever happened to me. Do you know that?”

You hesitated a minute while you sniffled and rubbed at your eyes. “Are you sure about that? Because I feel like I’m failing at everything... At being a hero, at being a friend, and at being your partner. I’ve been so stressed out lately that I’ve barely been able to pay attention to you. I’m so sorry, Izuku...” Fresh tears pooled at the corners of your eyes as your self doubt ate at you.

Say you need me, but lately you feel unsure.

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Ah, I’m sorry-”

“Nope! No more apologizing, especially when you didn’t do anything wrong.” A small smile found it’s way to his lips as he spoke, “I’ve watched you grow from a student in the hero course with me into the wonderful person and amazing hero you are now, and I want you to know I’m proud of who you’ve become. You’ve been nothing but nice to Uraraka, Iida, and Todoroki, and you’ve done everything you can to support me and be there for me when I need you to be. You cheered me on and pushed me to do better when I felt like giving in so many times. Without you, I wouldn’t be the hero I am today.”

“That’s really flattering, but I think All Might was mostly responsible for making you the hero you are now.”

Come on to me, come on to me...I need more!

Izuku laughed a little as you smiled at your comment, though the pain remained behind your eyes still and his gaze was just as intense as before. He quickly regained composure and continued. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit, love. I was watching the live feed from home while you were on your mission, and from one hero to another, you did all you could with the hand you were dealt in that situation. You can’t place unnecessary blame on yourself for something that’s not your fault. You weren’t a hinder to them, and you didn’t cause them any further problems. I mean, unless you were the one who set the building on fire, but that’s not likely, right?” His teasing tone was meant to lighten the situation, but it seemed to have no affect against the worry and anxiety radiating from you. “Y/N.”

“Hm?” At some point you realized you had zoned out and starting daydreaming about all the possible ways the situation could have gone wrong. Izuku’s voice pulled you back to reality and away from your twisted reverie.

“I love you. It’s okay to feel upset and angry about today, about yesterday, about last month- and especially about that comment your manager made. Which, by the way, we need a new manager for you now, but that’s not the point. I want you to know that I will always be here to support and love you like you’ve supported and loved me. Your friends love you and support you also, you know. Uraraka was just asking me about you yesterday, actually...said you looked a little blue. Oh, and Todoroki wanted me to pass on a message. Something about an angry pomeranian? Are you two making fun of Kaachan again?” He gave you a pointed look.

“Well...yes and no?” You sheepishly grinned and laughed while he just rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, the point I’m trying to make is that you are worth so much more than you think. Your friends love you, I love you, and your fans also love you. You’re more than just a sidekick. You’re an amazing hero and an even better partner to me, and you are not and will never be a failure at any point in time. You did all you could to save those people, and if you hadn’t stepped in when you did, Uravity might not have been able to get to them after all. If you don’t want to be a hero anymore, then of course I’ll support you no matter what, but that’s not really what you want to do, is it?”

Deep down, you knew Izuku was right. There was no way you could step down from being a hero; you loved helping people almost as much as he did. Being a hero was just as much a part of you as your nose or your eyes or your lips. It was a second nature, something you couldn’t just give up on so easily.

“I want to help people and be a hero. I just...lately, I just don’t feel like I’m good enough.”

You sounded so sad and dejected still, and it absolutely broke his heart. Izuku silently promised himself to do everything in his power to make you believe in yourself again before racking his brain for ideas on how to further cheer you up. When you had bad days, there were certain things he did to comfort you and help you relax, but this seemed to be a bit more serious, and thus, required a more elaborate solution than the normal hot bath and back massage. Maybe...yes, that was perfect! It probably wouldn’t fix the problem long term, but it would be a good start.

“You are good enough, and I will always be here to remind you of that.” He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss. “Come on, let’s go relax in bed. I’ll even give you a ride there if you want.”

Your eyes immediately lit up as he turned around and crouched down so you could climb on to his back. As goofy as he was, you absolutely adored him. “Yes! You’re the best!” You squealed as he lifted you up with ease and locked his arms around the back of your legs to keep you nice and secure while he strode to the bedroom. Once there, he set you down on the bed before putting his plan into motion.

At the foot of your bed, you had a night sky projector that would cast the image of stars and planets onto your ceiling. Izuku had gotten it for you for your last birthday, and you loved it dearly. It made you feel content and relaxed when you were restless. Often times, you used it while you were in the bath or right before bed when you were having a rough night. It was perfect for occasions like this. Choosing the setting with the purple colored lights, Izuku powered it on and the two of you watched as your bedroom lit up all over. It was like you were really in space.

He made his way back to bed where you were currently snuggling into the giant comforter you both shared, a blissful smile on his face at the sight of you. You seemed to be feeling better already; you cuddled up to him as the little spoon as soon as he slid under the covers with you. He made sure to find a comfortable position for the both of you, and with the ambience set, there was only one last thing to do.

“If you feel broken, promise I won’t break your heart. If you shatter, I won’t let you fall apart. Why are we so complicated? Love’s a word I’ve always hated...”

You listened to him sing softly, the words falling from his lips effortlessly as he serenaded you with your favorite melody.

“I’m tired of waiting! I was never good at sports; save the games for the girls on the tennis court. Say you need me, but lately you feel unsure. Come on to me, come on to me, I need more...”

You closed your eyes and slowly drifted away from your worries as he sang. If every night could end like this, then maybe everything would be okay after all.

“It always feel like I need more... Jesus Christ, you’re so confusing! If we keep score, bet my money that I’m losing...”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“No, I love you more.”

You felt his laugh reverberate through his chest as he snuggled closer.

“Go to bed, Y/N.”

“Mmn...”

“If you feel lonely, I could be lonely with you... Tell me, baby, why do you seem so blue?”

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku #midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha #mha #bhna x reader #bnha midoriya #bnha izuku #izuku x reader fluff #izuku x reader angst

155 notes · View notes

gb-fics · 4 years ago

Text

A Useful Gift

Fanfiction:

Kiryuuin Shou x Kyan Yutaka (Golden Bomber)

Note: It’s Shou’s birthday! (^-^) The fic is set during Gekkan and no one has to keep social distance ... because it’s funnier that way :D

„Now, let’s get to the good part”, Shou announced and eyed the three gift bags piled up in front of him. “Though your presents are usually shit. You never get me anything useful.”

Yutaka thought of rolling his eyes, but decided that it would be a little over the top. He felt self-conscious when the cameras were on them and tried to keep his expression as indifferent as possible. The viewers were supposed to laugh about the presents without getting distracted by their bickering.

He rolled his eyes mentally, though, because Shou always overdid it with the usefulness of his presents.

“Well, we’re only allowed to spend 1000 yen!”, Jun defended himself. “You don’t really get anything good for that.”

“I think you just suck at picking gifts”, Shou muttered and grabbed the first gift bag.

For a moment, Yutaka felt nervous that Shou would pick his one first, although he had put it out of his reach further than the others on purpose. But Shou seemed to understand the hint. Yutaka felt confident, that he had come up with something funny this year and they usually tried to put the most ridiculous gift last for the joke to hit harder.

Shou fumbled with the bag.

Yutaka hoped that neither Kenji nor Jun would steal the show, but he doubted they had thought of anything nearly as good. He had really outdone himself this year. He couldn’t wait to see Shou’s face.

“Oh, great”, Shou said dryly and held up a book. “Another photobook by Kenji. I can add it to my collection.”

“The new one was released after your birthday, so I thought you might want a copy!”, Kenji chimed. “It contains pictures of me. Isn’t that an amazing present?!”

Shou looked down on the cover with slight disdain.

“Because I don’t see enough of you on tour”, he said and put the book down.

Yutaka knew that he wasn’t going to open it. Shou felt that looking at his bandmates’ photobooks was somehow inappropriate. Which was ridiculous in case of Kenji specifically, because they had all seen plenty of nude pictures of him already. Sometimes, Yutaka thought that he knew Kenji’s body better than his own.

“Aren’t you happy?” Kenji was shouting. He sounded cheerful and it was hard to tell if he expected Shou to be overjoyed for real. His voice was teasing yet proud at the same time. Kenji loved showing off his body.

“I’m delighted”, Shou said sarcastically.

“If you liked that, you’re going to love my gift”, Jun said.

Shou made a face, indicating that he was expecting the worst.

He picked up Jun’s bag.

Yutaka licked his lips nervously. He really hoped the gift was going to be as unspectacular as Kenji’s photobook.

Shou reached into the gift bag, making a big show out of feeling around in it.

“There is nothing in there!”, he complained. “Did you get me something this small?”

“It’s not about the size”, Jun said.

Yutaka smirked, but refrained from making a joke.

Finally, Shou pulled something from the bag and held it up. If anything, his expression was even more grim this time.

“Thanks, Jun”, he said without any enthusiasm. “Just what I needed.”

Yutaka looked at the acrylic stand in Shou’s hand, that showed Jun mostly dressed in white.

Shou placed the item on top of Kenji’s photobook and looked down on them for a moment.

“Do you really hate me this much?”, he asked.

“Oi, those are good presents!”, Kenji shouted.

“You can put it on your shelf, so I’ll always be watching over you!”, Jun added.

“Sounds like my personal nightmare”, Shou muttered and pulled the last gift bag towards himself. “This better be good, Yutaka. If it’s something with your face on it, I’m going to scream.”

“Don’t worry”, Yutaka said with a grin. “This one is going to be good.”

Shou gave him a doubtful look, before he put his hand into the bag.

Yutaka’s heartbeat picked up pace. He really hoped this was going to turn out as funny as it had in his imagination. Shou talked about his AV watching habits openly, yet he got flustered by things like looking at a bandmate’s photobook. Yutaka was curious into which category this gift would fall. A part of him really was curious how Shou felt about these things, although that intention had been secondary of course. Yutaka was mostly aiming for a laugh here.

Shou felt around and his eyes widened in a comical expression. He was clearly putting on a show for their viewers, but it still made Yutaka feel giddy with anticipation.

“Well, I know exactly what this feels like”, Shou observed. “But I doubt …”

He pulled the gift out of the bag.

“Oh, never mind”, he said and held the flesh-coloured dildo up for the cameras. Yutaka wondered, if they were going to blur it. He had gone for a naturalistic look. “This is exactly what it felt like.”

“You said you wanted something useful”, Yutaka said, pleased with himself. Even from where he was seated, he could see that the comment section was going wild. “And this is the only one of the gifts you can actually use.”

“Oi!”, Jun protested.

Yutaka looked at him with a stern expression.

“Name one thing you can actually use an acrylic stand for”, he challenged him.

“That … that thing isn’t much better”, Jun said and pointed to the dildo, that Shou was still weighting in his hand.

“Well, I can name one use for it at least”, Yutaka countered. “If you want me to elaborate …”

“Shut up!”, Jun shouted and nearly broke down on his table with laughter. He always laughed harder, when he felt embarrassed.

Kenji was cackling as well.

Shou put the dildo down on Kenji’s photobook quite carefully.

“I thought the other presents were giving me the finger already, but this one takes the message of ‘Go fuck yourself’ to a whole new level.”

Yutaka couldn’t help laughing. This was what he had always liked about Shou. He was funny, not just when it came to writing shows and developing concepts, but he was also spontaneous and never missed a beat. Secretly, Yutaka had hoped he would get a little more flustered about the present, but he took it with dignity; not giving away how he felt about this kind of toy in general.

“You’re welcome”, he said.

“But isn’t it too big?”, Kenji chipped in. “I mean, look at how big it is! And Shou is so small!”

“Fuck you too, Kenji”, Shou huffed.

“Seriously, get up, get up!”, Kenji shouted.

Shou sighed loudly but got up from his seat.

Yutaka snatched the dildo and held it up next to Shou’s hip for comparison.

“Kenji’s right”, he agreed. “If you shove it up your ass, it’s practically going to come back out of your mouth.”

“Oh god, do you have to talk like that!”, Jun complained hysterically. “Just put that thing away.”

Yutaka noticed that he eyed the dildo as if it was a weapon that might attack him anytime.

“There is no way it will fit!”, Kenji repeated. “It’s even bigger than Jun. Look at the girth. And Shou’s anus is so small!”

“Could we not discuss my asshole in public?”, Shou asked and sat down again.

Kenji leaned over the table and formed a small circle with his fingers, that he held right into the camera. “It’s this tiny!”, he shouted.

Yutaka turned and slapped the dildo right into Jun’s face.

Jun started screaming.

Yutaka laughed maliciously.

“Kenji, stop that, put your hand down”, Shou scolded, but he had to laugh in spite of himself.

“Take that thing out of my face, you are being gross!”, Jun shouted, while Yutaka still tried to rub the toy against Jun’s face. Jun raised his arms to defend himself, but he did it so uncoordinatedly, that he nearly fell off his chair.

“It’s not gross. It hasn’t even been used”, Yutaka disagreed. “Yet.”

“Don’t make me think of it!”, Jun protested.

“He’s not going to use it. It’s too big”, Kenji insisted once again.

The only one, who didn’t say anything about possibly using it or not, was Shou himself. It only made Yutaka more curious.

Jun finally lowered his arms to stop fighting and Yutaka lost interest immediately. He put the dildo back down onto the photobook. He still wondered, if they had blurred it. If so, his attack on Jun must have looked pretty ridiculous to the audience.

“You still have to chose your favourite”, Yutaka pointed out.

“Right!”, Kenji agreed. “Please pick your favourite gift.”

“It’s really going to be a tough decision”, Jun said. As usual, he sounded nervous for no specific reason.

Shou stared down on his gifts with an indifferent yet somehow resigning expression.

Yutaka licked his lips. He wasn’t sure what Shou was going to pick. Of course, it would be the gift of which the choice would be funniest to the fans. Shou was that type of person. Yutaka felt oddly stressed, because he himself wouldn’t know how to play off any of the choices as a joke. Maybe he’d pick Jun’s acrylic stand and claim it was at least good for throwing things at.

“I pick the dildo”, Shou finally said after a long pause. “It’s an awful present, but it’s the only one where I don’t have to see one of you idiots.”

“I knew you’d like it, homo”, Yutaka said smugly, but he couldn’t deny that he felt a little surprised. He would have expected Shou to be too uptight to even joke about it. Just sometimes, he wondered about Shou sexual orientation, but he had never dared to ask.

One of the staff members rushed in to collect the items from Shou’s desk to create space for him, although they had already reached the end of the stream anyway. The opening of the gifts had been the climax so to speak.

“That was it for today”, Shou started and Yutaka tuned out while he continued talking next to him. Shou talked a lot on these programs. Occasionally, Yutaka felt like he might as well stay home. A nap would have been a nice alternative.

He only sprung back into life to wave everyone goodbye and wish them a good night. He himself had to suppress a yawn.

“Ah, today was fun, wasn’t it?”, Jun asked as the cameras stopped running. He seemed to have forgotten that someone had slapped a dildo into his face earlier.

“Did you enjoy your birthday, Shou?”, Kenji asked.

“You could have tried a little harder with the presents”, Shou pointed out. “But thank you for participating.” He always scaled down his grumpy act when they were in private as if he was worried it was his duty to motivate them and tell them they did a good job as their band leader. Neither of them had ever viewed Shou as that type of leader, though, and he always seemed a bit helpless when he tried to thank them. Yutaka thought that it was somehow adorable, though.

“Well, I’m going to remove my paint before we leave”, Kenji announced.

“I’m coming with you”, Jun agreed and jumped up.

The staff members were busy carrying the camera equipment out of the room. Yutaka always felt a little uncomfortable watching them do actual work, while he just earned his money sitting around and letting Shou do the talking. He felt useless, but if he offered to help, he’d mostly be in the way, because he never knew where to put the equipment and one time, he had even dropped a pretty expensive mic.

Shou got up and stretched himself. He always seemed bothered by sitting for too long, but it was probably only because of his bad posture.

He looked around the room.

“Did you see where they put the gifts?”, he asked.

“What?”, Yutaka teased. “Are you that eager to look at Kenji’s nudes at home? Just follow him on Instagram like everyone else.”

“No, of course not, I want the dildo”, Shou said. He spoke seriously and not like he was joking at all. It was hard to tell, though, because he was still looking around the room instead of facing Yutaka.

Yutaka’s throat felt oddly tight.

“You do?”, he asked, keeping his voice flat to not give away his emotions.

“Sure”, Shou confirmed. He walked around the tables and started checking the floor as if the staff might just have dropped his gifts.

Yutaka got up awkwardly as well, leaning against the table as he watched Shou. He didn’t really know what to do with his body, but it felt wrong to just remain seated.

“I wasn’t lying, it’s the best present. I mean, I always wanted to get a proper dildo, but then couldn’t bring myself to actually spend the money. I’ve been using a plug for years.” Shou was just rambling on while walking the room that was now empty aside from them. He didn’t look at Yutaka. “Not one of those small, glittery ones, mind you. You know, the mean-looking, black ones, that are more spikey.”

He turned around and indicated a quite impressive size considering he was only talking about a plug.

“You know?”, he repeated and looked at Yutaka so expectantly, as if he really assumed he knew exactly what kind of sex toy Shou was talking about. He’d probably seen it in AVs before and assumed the rest of the world watched as much porn as him.

Yutaka shrugged, hoping to look more knowledgeable than he was.

He tried not to imagine Shou using anything dildo-like on himself. How flushed he would be and how aroused and how naked.

“Glad my present turned out to be …” He cleared his throat. “… pleasing.”

Shou turned around again, continuing his pacing through the room.

“I just wish you hadn’t picked one that’s the size of Godzilla’s cock”, he complained.

“Oh no, it’s not. Godzilla’s cock was too expensive”, Yutaka said dryly.

Shou laughed.

“Seriously, I wonder if Kenji is right though. I might not be practiced enough to make it fit.”

Yutaka licked his lips. Shou’s casualness made him insecure. He did not want to think about how practiced Shou was in this regard or what that practice looked like in detail.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you were actually into gay sex toys”, he huffed out to defend himself.

Shou turned around again and frowned.

“What are you talking about?”, he asked, sounding annoyed. “It’s a toy. It doesn’t have a gender. It says nothing about your sexual orientation. It’s gay when you are with another man. But when I’m doing it by myself, there is no other man involved. There is nothing gay about enjoying some additional stimulation. It’s physically pleasing regardless of whom you are attracted to.”

As much sense as Shou’s words made, they still confused Yutaka. He felt a disappointment, that surprised himself. He hadn’t gotten the gift with a certain intention after all. It had been meant as a joke, something that would make the fans laugh.

“If you say so”, he mumbled, making it sound sarcastic. He felt like he wanted to avenge some sort of hurt that he couldn’t quite name. Shou’s statement hadn’t invalidated him in any way after all. “I just wasn’t expecting it from you.”

“Oh, trust me, if you can do it by yourself, I’ve tried”, Shou said.

Yutaka tried to laugh, but his throat felt too tight for it to come out naturally. It sounded as if he was coughing.

“Whatever”, he said, scared that Shou would offer any more details that he wouldn’t know how to deal with.

“I didn’t take you to be this prudish”, Shou bit out sharply, seemingly aware that Yutaka was trying to change the topic.

He had crossed the room completely now and had stopped short in front of the tables again.

His words were clearly meant as an accusation. Yutaka felt like they were fighting, but he didn’t know about what. He felt angry at Shou, although he couldn’t explain what kind of reaction he had been hoping for. And Shou seemed angry at him, although Yutaka felt like he had stayed pretty neutral.

“Well, not all of us need to stick to toys to enjoy themselves”, he said, although he knew it was Shou’s weak spot. He was sensitive about not feeling attractive enough to be desirable to others. It was the kind of comment, that was aiming to hurt Shou, even though Yutaka still couldn’t explain his reasons for that.

“So, you prefer real cock?”, Shou shot back immediately.

The question came so unexpectedly that it left Yutaka speechless.

It wasn’t what he had meant to say, but he didn’t know if he was supposed to deny it either. Shou had sounded angry, but also a little insecure. Yutaka couldn’t tell what answer he was hoping for. The mood shift had come too suddenly.

“I …”, he stuttered. “I mean … I did before, yes. Sex with men, I mean. By no means often, though. I …”

He broke off, because he didn’t know what else to say. He had wanted to tell Shou for a long time already, but he had never known how to bring it up. He hadn’t been sure about his reaction. Whenever it was not outright introduced as a joke, the topic of homosexuality always seemed to make Shou somewhat uncomfortable.

Shou nodded.

“I thought so”, he said quietly. He no longer sounded angry at all. “I’ve always wondered.”

“I was wondering how you would react to the dildo”, Yutaka confessed. “I was curious.”

Shou walked towards Yutaka and sat down on the table next to him. His feet were dangling just a few centimetres above the floor. Again, he was sitting hunched over.

“How does it feel?”, he asked. “Sex with another man?”

Yutaka shrugged. Both of them were looking into the same direction instead of facing each other.

“Good.” He paused. “I mean, it’s much the same as sex with women. It depends on the partner and the situation. But generally speaking, it’s good.”

“I always felt silly”, Shou confessed. Yutaka didn’t know when their conversation had turned this quiet and serious. Shou right next to him seemed fragile all of a sudden and Yutaka wanted to hug him, and was scared he’d fall apart under his touch all the same. He remained sitting still.

“I’m attracted to men like I’m attracted to women, but I never had sex with a guy. I just don’t know how to get there. It’s like I’m still the same sad virgin I was in my early twenties. Like, a half-virgin. I turned 37 today and still haven’t unlocked half of my sexuality.”

Yutaka snorted with laughter, although he knew that Shou was serious.

“I thought I’d feel less stupid if I used a proper dildo at least. Like, less as if it’s all just in my head.”

Yutaka snorted again and shook his head.

“You define your sexuality yourself. It’s nothing you have to unlock”, he pointed out. “And what happened to toys being inherently genderless?”

“It’s a silicone cock, Yutaka”, Shou said. “That’s gay.”

Yutaka burst out laughing. Suddenly, he felt very affectionate towards Shou.

“I should probably ask the staff where they put it”, Shou added and sighed.

“Really?”, Yutaka mocked. “You’re just going to ask where they put the sex toy you were meaning to stuff up your ass?”

Shou groaned and made a face, that caused his nose to wrinkle. He still wore his makeup, which usually made him more conventionally attractive, but once he made faces, he looked more like himself again. In Yutaka’s opinion, that made him a lot cuter too.

“You are right, I should just write it off as lost. Too bad, tonight promised to be fun.”

Yutaka’s neck felt hot at the thought of Shou actually planning to use the dildo tonight.

He pushed himself off the table, so he could face Shou, who kept his eyes lowered.

“You know you don’t need to have sex with another man to validate that part of your sexuality or your identity, right?”, Yutaka assured.

Shou nodded reluctantly.

“Yes, intellectually, I know that.”

“And you wouldn’t do anything stupid you’d regret just to prove something to yourself, right?”, Yutaka carried on.

Shou nodded again.

“I’m not stupid”, he muttered.

“And it still means so much to you?”, Yutaka asked.

Shou finally looked up. He wasn’t wearing contact lenses tonight and his eyes were dark and clear.

“It does”, he confirmed. “I’m curious. But I don’t just want to do it with anyone. Then it wouldn’t be so hard. I want it to be with someone I feel comfortable with. Someone I care about and who’s willing to put up with me when I’m being awkward.”

“Yes”, Yutaka confirmed. “Sounds like a dildo alright.”

Shou reached out to slap him.

“Asshole”, he said with a slight smirk.

“Seriously, though”, Yutaka said. “It’s my present that got lost, so I feel like I have to compensate you.”

Hesitantly he reached out and took hold of Shou’s hand. It felt warm and Yutaka hoped that his palm didn’t feel sweaty. He was nervous.

“Let’s go home and celebrate your birthday properly, what do you say?”

He looked at Shou and for a moment feared that he would pull back and get angry at him. Not for liking guys, at least in that regard they seemed safe now. But for risking their band and their friendship and offering something to Shou he might not even want.

“You know, the dildo was nice”, Shou said and broke into a wide, unashamed grin. “But I told you, it seemed too big for me anyway.”

#Golden Bomber #Kiryuuin Shou #Kyan Yutaka #kirikyan #fanfiction #fanfic

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sambergscott · 5 years ago

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i'll promise that i'll love you for the rest of my life

one giving the other flowers, as requested by @rosalitadiazz AGES ago, also dedicated to @397bartonstreet for the initial idea of amy sleeping in/just being the best and @nine-niall for helping with the marriage highlight reel.... and for making me listen to heartbreak weather on repeat for the last few days and coming up with this title

happy anniversary to jake and amy!!! (also since the ep aired 2 years ago today i'm not *technically* late thank u very much)

One million, fifty one thousand and two hundred minutes after marrying Amy Santiago (or, two years), every moment is as wonderful as day one. He still feels the same rush of excitement when he sees her waiting by their car at the end of a shift, the same swell of pride when she introduces him to someone as her husband, the same “oh my god we’re actually married” moment when he catches her rings glinting in the sunlight. It’s been the best one million, fifty one thousand and two hundred minutes of his life. And while he appreciates every single second they have together, knowing how in their line of work things can change all too easy, their second anniversary presents the perfect opportunity to remind her that everyday he gets to be with someone as amazing as her is crazy to him.

He has flowers, a handmade card, he even hoovered and she’s still asleep.

She never sleeps this late.

Everyone knows she’s the morning person in their relationship and he’s the Get Out Of Bed After Snoozing The Alarm Seventeen Times person. They live together, share a car, and yet most mornings he ends up riding the Subway, squashed between an old woman and a nerdy looking guy who smells like he hasn’t showered in a week, Amy rolling her eyes when he gets to work mid-briefing. The rare days she can get him out of bed early usually involve some kind of bribery using food and/or sex.

The point is, he’s supposed to be the one sleeping in past 11 AM, but ever since their doctor prescribed Clomid to help stimulate ovulation and boost their chances of making a baby, their roles have been totally reversed like Lindsay Lohan and Jamie Lee Curtis in Freaky Friday.

Pregnant Amy falls asleep anywhere and everywhere. The couch, the car, the cleaning cupboard at work when she was trying to find some Nuclear-strength cleaner to remove the stench of Charles’ lunch from the air before she hurled again.

She could sleep all day if he let her and he quite easily could. She looks so peaceful and cute and free from the stresses of her family asking why they waited so long (well, long for Santiago standards) to start a family. Plus, the messy hair and tiny bit of drool on her chin are impossibly endearing in the way only she can be.

He smiles and wraps his arms around her, resting his head on his shoulder, his hands - like his thoughts - drifting to her growing bump as they inevitably always do.

This time next year they’ll be celebrating with their little boy or girl, telling them all about the insane, magical day that was May 15th 2018. Of course, it might be some time before they can fully grasp the TV-worthy drama of the creepy phone call, the bomb in the vent, the ex-boyfriend proposing - twice! - and the wall of Amy photos, but they will sure as dammit know how beautiful their mom looked in her dress and how happy their dad was when Grandpa Holt finally announced them as husband and wife.

“Can’t breathe,” his wife squeaks, finally awake. “Arms too tight.”

“Oops. Sorry, babe.” He kisses her by way of apology; sometimes when he gets to thinking about that day, about seeing her walk down the shredded paper aisle under the glow of fairy lights, surrounded by the very people who watched them fall in love, he kind of forgets where he is and what he’s doing.

She’s always had that intoxicating effect on him. That’s never gonna change.

“Time is it?” She yawns, stretching her arms above her head.

“Twenty five to,” he pauses to brace himself for her reaction, “...twelve.”

“Twelve?” Horrified, she moves to get out of bed and yeah, he knows her so well. “Let me go,” she huffs in frustration when he forms a barrier to keep her from leaving.

“No can do, Santiago,” he says authoritatively. “You’ve been working yourself to the bone and you’re pregnant. You need to rest. We’ve both got the day off, our dinner reservations aren’t until 8. Just let your husband take care of you for a couple of hours.”

She chews on her lower lip, making her contemplative face that he recognises from sitting opposite her for so many years, preferring watching her piece together the leads in a case rather than work on his own. “Fine,” she eventually concedes. “Happy anniversary, by the way.”

“Happy anniversary,” he returns the sentiment, kissing her again because, well, he can, one of the perks of marrying Amy Santiago (alongside a perfectly organised sock drawer and getting to hang out with the best person in the world 24 sevs). “I got you these,” he adds, procuring the daffodil bouquet he found online.

“Jake,” she sighs dreamily, placing the flowers on her nightstand. “They’re beautiful. And my favourites.”

“I know,” he smirks. He may not be Santiago level smart, but he’s smart when it comes to all things Santiago. “Also made you this.” He hands over the card.

She opens it, instantly tearing up at his sweet message inside, the dam bursting when she notices the scrawled message written with his wrong hand from their unborn baby. “Mine sucks in comparison,” she laments, passing him his card before locking her eyes back on the words ‘happy anniversary to the world’s best mama’.

“It does not suck,” he reassures her, clutching it to his chest. “I’m going to savour it for all times. I want to be buried with it.”

She rolls her eyes, drying her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I thought you wanted to be buried with your original copy of Die Hard.”

“OK, Die Hard and your card. Rhymes for a reason, Ames.”

“You’re such a dork,” she responds, stifling her laughter. “Can’t believe I’ve been married to you for two full years.”

“I know.” He grins. “What was your favourite part?”

Her eyes glimmer with excitement and love and memories of their first anniversary before things turned upside down. “Are you suggesting we do a marriage highlight reel à la NBA inside stuff?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. I’ll go first. NUMBER FIVE,” he yells in his spot on Ahmad Rashad impression, earning a giggle from his wife. “Number five is that dress you wore on my birthday. Your butt looked the bomb in it.”

“Thanks, babe.” Two years in, she’s used to the constant “your butt is the bomb” comments, often uttered at the most inappropriate of times like when she stands up to brief the squad or play soccer with her brothers, much to her chagrin and their delight.

“Number four,” she quickly moves on. “The time you taught me to play Mario Party and I beat Wario on the first try.”

“That was my worst moment,” he groans.

“And that’s why it’s my best.”

He sighs, considers debating it, engaging in the classic back-and-forth that is the very foundation of their relationship, but it’s moot. She was way better than him. Santiago’s learn fast. It’s in their genes or something. And despite the crushing disappointment when she beat Wario with ease and dork danced her way to the kitchen to grab them both an orange soda, it was still a very fun night and a worthy moment in the highlight reel.

“Number Three. The York murder.”

Immediate understanding spreads across Amy’s face, but he explains anyway.

“I spent three days working that case and you just came in, saw the board and solved it right away.”

“I’m very smart,” she jokes lightheartedly.

“You are,” he agrees, his voice coming out softer and sincerer than even he imagined. “I love that about you. I love your brain. I love how good you are at your job, at figuring out puzzles. I love that you listen to NPR and know so much about the font Helvetica and have read, like, a million books. I love that you do a crossword every night and I love how proud you look when you give me a sports clue and I actually get it right. I love cheering you on at Trivia Nights even when Kylie can’t stop glaring at me. How lucky am I to have the smartest wife in the world?”

Touched, she can barely compile her thoughts to reveal her Number Two.

“The night at Shaw’s, at Hitchcock’s second divorce party, your speech, the way you kissed me, the way you were so gentle when we got home,” she sniffles. “It was special and made me feel so loved and if I say anymore I’m going to cry again, so you go.”

He chuckles knowingly. The pregnancy hormones have been making her extra emotional lately, they can’t even watch commercials anymore without her fully weeping. And while last year Pam and her twisted bowels interrupted before they could get to Number One, this year Number One is obvious. Clear as day. And there’s no one to interrupt.

He pretends to think about it for a minute (because he will always love teasing her, married or not). Only when she grabs his arm and digs her nails into his skin does he put both their hands on her bump and smiles. “Obviously this little guy or gal is Number One.”

She smiles back at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

His own face falls. “Ames?”

“It’s been a hard year, hasn’t it?” She sighs, thinking back to calendars and fertility appointments and the strict no nacho policy.

“Yeah,” he says, “it has. But this next year is gonna be the best one yet.”

“I mean... We’re probably not going to sleep a lot.”

“You might not sleep a lot but I sure will,” he teases, his words falling flat. “Just kidding, babe. Obviously I’m going to get up for all the feeds and diaper changes and whatever else this kid throws at us. Gonna be there for you both. No matter what.”

The pregnancy hormones strike again and she starts crying and, honestly, he can’t wait for this baby to get out, for more reasons than one.

“BRB, I’ll go make your favourite breakfast to make you feel better, don’t grow anymore body parts while I’m gone.”

He returns seven minutes later with pancakes, a ton of fruit, decaf coffee and another kiss. He climbs back into bed, devours his own Nutella pancakes and posts his favourite blurry, drunk on Champagne and love selfie from their makeshift wedding reception at Shaw’s, on Insta with a caption about how he promises he’s gonna love her for the rest of his life.

And he keeps that promise.

#b99 fic #jake x amy #my writing #dork danced is my new favourite verb

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