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a-clockwork-justice · 3 years

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Everything I Love About Loser Geek Whatever

So, not too long ago, it was the third birthday of Loser Geek Whatever. Yes, I know the single was released on November 30th 2018 and its considered the song’s official birthday, but the 26th July three years ago was the first showing of the 2018 Off-Broadway revival of Be More Chill and the first time Loser Geek Whatever was shown to the world in any capacity. Therefore, I consider that day to be the song’s unoffical birthday and I’ve been waiting to write down everything I love about it so here I am. (This was originally gonna be posted on the 26th July but I can’t make anything concise so it took longer than that).

I’ve gone on and on about what Loser Geek Whatever means to me personally, how a slew of random chance introduce me to it, got me deep into Be More Chill, introduced me to 90% of my current friends, and overall up-ended my whole life, but now it’s time to dissect the song itself and why it’s so great. As much as I adore Loser Geek Whatever, it could’ve easily been any other song that threw me down a rabbit hole and that I could’ve latched onto- no, wait, it couldn’t have been, because Loser Geek Whatever is unique in that way. I did about a year of music at A-Level so I’m gonna delve into some of the technical aspects here too. I’m chronicling this mostly for myself so I am going as deep as I see fit because this song is a treasure hiding yet more treasures. If you happen to love Loser Geek Whatever as much as I do, this’ll be your goldmine.

So, grab a snack my fellow fans, because here’s a comprehensive list of everything to love about Loser Geek Whatever in roughly chronological order. Long post incoming:

The song starts off strong from the first millisecond - I don’t know what instrument(s) they used but just listen to the single version again - that opening chord blares at you like a siren. It calls for your attention, screaming this is incredibly important, and indeed it is. That chord, an F chord, has no indication as to whether it’s major or minor - it’s just the tonic F with its dominant C and another tonic F above it. In other words, it’s unresolved, it hangs in the air. From a narrative standpoint, Jeremy is at a crossroads, torn between giving into the SQUIP or staying loyal to Michael, and the music paints this. It has the same effect on both the single and album versions - I always hold my breath as it holds, it’s the gap in this crucial transition for Jeremy between who he was and him becoming something he isn’t.

To continue the thread of musical painting, the melody line contains the accidental E-flat which doesn’t belong to the key of F major. This once again illustrates Jeremy’s uncertainty, but there’s more - the whole introduction is a slowed-down version of the Apocalypse of the Damned theme from Two Player Game, arguably the point in the show when Michael and Jeremy’s relationship was at its strongest. Jeremy’s recalling everything he had with Michael, but the slowing down of the melody shows hesitancy, along with highlighting the accidental E flat. These latter points of course aren’t unique to Loser Geek Whatever - they’re also in the section of Upgrade that twins with Loser Geek Whatever. I’m just laying out why they work so well.

I’m glad I waited until after I saw the show in London to finish writing this - I’m something of a Loser Geek Whatever purist, as made clear by my ire at them cutting it in half and tacking the end of Upgrade back on for the London version. I still enjoyed the show in London though and I’m glad I knew about this change ahead of time, because they did change something about the song that I think really worked - they added two notes in the bass to each bar, like heartbeats, which once again signifies Jeremy’s uncertancy and the importance of this major turning point.

It’s been firmly established by this point that Jeremy is a loser and he knows it. He doesn’t want to be a hero, he just wants to survive, but there’s a difference between that and feeling “inconsequential.” Jeremy is basically admitting that, in his eyes, it doesn’t matter to the world or anyone except Michael if he even survives or not. He’s not just a loser, or a geek - he’s a whatever, with no one caring who he is. And he’s felt this way for years - since middle school began. He’s now in his Junior year of high school - that’s five years of being in this state of being unnoticed at best and picked on at worst. He’s “the one who’s left out”. With just one little line, hell, one word, we’re given more layers as to why he so badly wants to change that.

Moving from the first verse to the chorus, we start to see Jeremy’s attitude shift, from being sad to being angry - he’s frustrated, resentful that he’s spent so long in this state (A lot of people have made similar comparisons about Will Roland’s Jeremy as a whole in relation to Will Connolly’s Jeremy and I think this song exemplifies that). He doesn’t deserve to feel this horrible - not now and certainly not for the next two years until he and Michael can be “cool in college.” When you think about it, what options does he really have? He could either give into the SQUIP or reject it and go back to where he was, still miserable and lonely. Yes, he has Michael and Michael is an amazing, kind, loyal best friend, but as many have pointed out, he’s also dismissive of Jeremy’s feelings of inadequacy whether he means to be or not, which only made Jeremy feel more lonely. Should Jeremy just expect to feel better about himself at some point before college? He’s waited for years, why would that happen at any other point?

More layers baby! Second verse, Jeremy rants on about his father’s advice about following his own instincts and how it’s gotten him nowhere he wants to be. Come to think of it, Michael’s advice about staying the same and waiting for their environment to change can be seen as similar - it’s arguably easier for Michael as he has two loving mothers who undoutably give him plenty of positive reinforcement. Meanwhile, Jeremy’s mother has left them, which likely instilled further feelings of not being good enough, and his father has fallen apart to the point where he can’t even put pants on, let alone step up to take care of his son, meaning that Jeremy likely isn’t going to take his advice very seriously, especially after it’s failed him so thoroughly. But to Jeremy, the problem isn’t necessarily the advice itself - it’s that it’s being followed by him. So now he’s going to turn around and put his life and every choice in something else’s hands, even if - no, especially if it goes against his own instincts. It still doesn’t feel quite right, it “feels bizarre”, but it’s getting him somewhere, so it has to be right in the most meaningful capacity, and to Jeremy, the “most meaningful capacity” is any capacity that isn’t his own.

Now the best line - the one about being a “normal, handsome guy”. Let’s get this on the table - Jeremy is trans. Will Roland himself said that he often thinks of the show’s young trans fans when he sings that line. Naturally, societal transphobia plus gender dysphoria would have a pretty catestrophic effect on the self-esteem of any growing teenager, even more so one in Jeremy’s situation for the reasons I’ve just laid out. He’s probably missed out on a lot of things that “normal” guys take for granted, with most girls barely looking in his direction, let alone in any positive manner. Jeremy’s own sexuality aside, it’s mostly society, and the SQUIP by extension, that considers scoring with girls to be a “manly” or masculine activity, and through Brooke treating him as dateable material, Jeremy feels better about fitting into society’s rules of how a man should be and act. This isn’t the only reason he feels good about Brooke finding him attractive, of course, but it’s just another layer that Jeremy sees more value in conforming to how society says he should be rather than in how he actually is.

I know I just said that the last point was about the best line, but honestly, there’s more than one best line in this song. The bridge is where we start to see Jeremy’s language becoming more technologically inclined - “prompt”, “command” and “bandwidth” are all terms used in computing and used to show how Jeremy is likening himself, or his intentions, to a computer, effectivly merging himself and his SQUIP into one entity and Jeremy willingly giving over his own individuality.

And HERE, we get to the kicker. I’ve talked a lot about layers throughout this whole essay, about themes and motifs building on each other. Jeremy is essentially peeling back the layers of his own situation and only finding reason after deeper reason after deeper reason as to why he should follow the SQUIP and not be a loser anymore. Now, he hits the core, the seed, the crux of it all - “The problem has ALWAYS BEEN ME!!” Everything he is, everything that makes Jeremy Heere himself, is and has always been wrong. This line is a gut punch and EVERYONE knows it - the performer always takes a few seconds to let it sink in before continuing.

As an aside, I wanna mention the differences between the single and the album versions of the bridge. The album version starts of quieter after the vocalising of the last chorus, and builds up to the climactic final line, while the single version is loud all the way through but gets even louder and punchier at the end. Both are good, but I personally prefer the single version - the album sounds like Jeremy is broken and desperate and on the verge of tears as he reaches his inevitable but ugly realisation. The single is also desperate, but it’s pleading and all-consuming and a THOUSAND times more powerful, I get chills every time I hear it. (Side note, the London version starts of loud like the single and ends quieter like the album, almost as if Jeremy is reluctant to admit what he truly believes about himself, and it’s easy to see why, it��s a damn harsh condemnation).

“Take a breath and get prepared” - Jeremy sings to both himself and the audience. The first half has been heavy and we need a breather. Yet just before he goes over the brink, he has second thoughts. His conscience, his own voice in his head, breaks through, warning him that his choice will have consequences for other people than himself. People will get hurt - Michael most of all. Not just by Jeremy ditching him; here’s something else - when Jeremy is the “cool dude”, he might end up being a bully to those who are losers just like him, cutting them down just as Rich’s SQUIP made Rich do to him. Who would be the perfect target for Jeremy’s potential future bullying? His former best friend and fellow loser, Michael Mell. It’s pretty damn likely that if the SQUIP hadn’t optic nerve blocked Michael, it would’ve told Jeremy to pick on him, and even though Michael has ostensibly been pretty good at brushing these things off before, the takedowns would hurt a LOT more coming from his former best friend - and we know this because IT ACTUALLY HAPPENS, granted without the SQUIP influencing Jeremy directly (also let’s just clear up that just because the SQUIP wasn’t on doesn’t mean its influence on Jeremy hadn’t disappeared - that’s not how emotional abuse works).

Twelve years of loyal friendship, of borderline unhealthy codependency … can he throw all that away for Christine, a girl he’s thus admired from afar and is only just starting to get to know as a person? Moreover, even if Jeremy gets Christine, what about himself, who he wants to be? He just wants to be something other than himself because he thinks that anything is better but … what? The cool dude, the hero or … whatever. He’ll take anything because he’s that desperate, but what about when he gets it? Will he finally be satisfied? Will it be worth failing his one real friend, an act so scummy that the only way he could possibly stomach it would be to somehow pretend he hadn’t done it?

But none of those questions matter to Jeremy now - he’s fully gaslit into believing that every thought and inclination that comes from himself is wrong and shouldn’t be followed. He needs to sync up with the SQUIP and the rest of the world and mute his own defective inner voice. When you think about it, the relationship between Jeremy and the SQUIP is one of the most intense abusive relationships ever put to fiction - we’ve seen emotional abuse and brainwashing before, but here, Jeremy is literally preventing from THINKING the wrong way because the SQUIP can detect his every thought. See what I mean when I say that doesn’t go away when the SQUIP turns off for a few minutes?!

Throughout all of this is the undercurrent of Jeremy wanting to get better. He’s been trying so hard for so long to have a better life, but nothing has worked. Not listening to his dad, not trying to get closer to Christine through theatre, and certainly not listening to Michael’s advice to wait until college. Why should he resign himself to even more time being miserable with no end in sight? After all, being cool in college isn’t a guarantee. After all he’s been through, it’s his turn to finally be cool, after an eternity of being someone he doesn’t want to be.

Another best line in this song - “I’m Player One.” As mentioned a few times in the show before, like in the Broadway upgrade, Jeremy feels lower even in his friendship with Michael - he’s Player 2 as the more experienced Michael is Player 1. As previously established, Jeremy admits that he’s “not the one who the story’s about.” Now he’s ready to finally take control of his life, be the main character and have good things happen to him, and that means cutting out Michael, the old Player 1. The irony here is that Jeremy is less like Player 1 and more like a video game avatar. In reality, the SQUIP is Player 1, making Jeremy do whatever it demands of him.

More best lines! The slew of insults towards the end serves not just as yet more gut punches for the audience but as a major catharsis for Jeremy - It’s telling that the insults get harsher as his rant goes on, from the “weirdo” to the “weakling freak” to the “failure” to the climactic “please don’t speak”. He’s unloading everything that he’s been carrying over the years, ripping out the bullets that have been embedded in his skin and re-opening all the wounds in the process, but he’s done with the pain and he’ll never ever let himself be hurt like that again, if he follows the SQUIP.

I’ve made a whole post about the significance of the best line “Please Don’t Speak” before so I’ll mostly be repeating a lot of what I said there because it’s been a while since that post and because I want to. Who would’ve said that to Jeremy? Probably not Rich or Chloe, it’s not like them. It had to have come from an adult in a position of authority that could’ve commanded Jeremy not to speak like that - one that apparently did so enough times for him to internalise those words like he did the others. (Even worse if it was more than one adult ...). Out of all of the insults, it’s easy to see how that can easily be the most scarring out of all of them - how would an adult let a child know they’re inadequate? By silencing them. Making it clear that their expression of self not only means nothing, but should be forcibly avoided. Put like that, it makes it much easier to see how and why Jeremy fell under the SQUIP’s influence so easily - telling it was hardly different from authority figures he’s experienced before. In even more sad irony, as Jeremy claims that he’s breaking free and letting go of his past as the “please don’t speak”, he’s just walking right into another, similar trap that he can’t easily escape from. The SQUIP literally vocal cord blocks him during The Play - if that doesn’t say “Please don’t speak,” what does?!

The climax is growing! The music shifts into the relative minor as Jeremy fully gives in to the SQUIP’s evil influence. This is the point of no return, the point where he’s literally being surrounded and overtaken - if you’ve seen this on stage or even just a bootleg, you’ll know what I mean, when the lighting shifts and the circuitry start closing in around him, it’s wonderful. The bass ascends, Jeremy declares once and for all that HE IS NOT THE LOSER, THE GEEK, OR WHATEVER, and he never will be again! As some have pointed out, the sequence of notes on the final “again” is the same as at the end of Be More Chill Part 2, except the last note is different. In BMC part 2, it goes further down by a minor third, but in Loser Geek Whatever, it rises up to the same note it started with. This foreshadows Jeremy’s fate - that he will eventually overcome the SQUIP and that he still has it in him to do so. Man, let me just point out how amazing that last belt is - it lasts for a full 15 seconds in a really high range and takes a LOT of control to bring it back up to the high B without breaking. This song really was written for Will Roland - his voice can pull it off seamlessly, but other actors and understudies have had to find workarounds. No disrespect to them, it’s a damn hard song and it kicks ass all the way through. Scott Folan apparently had trouble with it too, but on the day I happened to see him, he pulled it off without breaking, so props to him!

Overall, Loser Geek Whatever is my favourite song in Be More Chill and not just for its sentimental value to myself. It’s a genuinely deep, complex piece that earned every second of its six minutes. Loser Geek Whatever is definitely the missing piece the show needed - not only is it Jeremy’s solo song, it’s also his “I Want” song and, in a way, his 11 o’clock number all in one, as he’s having a major epiphany after going on a journey, albeit only half of one. It’s easy to see why Joe Iconis dubbed this his anti-Defying Gravity, but it’s also easy to draw parallels to No Good Deed - how both Jeremy and Elphaba vow to become something that society is forcing upon them rather than what they are, even if that society’s will is objectively worse for them. Loser Geek Whatever deserves a thousand times the recognition it has and I still wonder to this day what the fandom reaction would’ve been if it had been in the original soundtrack.

So, that was it. I’m not sorry it was this long.

TL;DR: Loser Geek Whatever is wonderful and anyone who doesn’t think so is wrong.

#be more chill #loser geek whatever #joe iconis #will roland #be more chill meta #music theory #broadway be more chill #be more chill 2.0 #be more chill 3.0 #musical theatre theory #tw depression #jeremy heere #michael mell #be more chill analysis #tw emotional abuse #trans jeremy heere

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maibi · 3 years

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All You Really Needed

Gojo Satoru x reader

Warnings: contains a spoiler of one of the first few episodes.. the summary also contains that spoiler so be wary!!

Summary: after the death of Itadori Yuuji, Gojo finally let’s go of his strong posture and breaks down in front of you. (I suck at descriptions I know T_T)

A/N: I apologise for any mistakes,, this was not proofread plus I am sleep deprived 99% of the time so I have no clue what im writing lmao. Anyways ENJOY!

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Gojo wasn’t one that opened up about his feelings or emotions, whereas you were the complete opposite of that. your days together were mostly filled with you rambling about your days teaching the first years at Kyoto Jujutsu High. You loved your students, but it was a tiring job to train them constantly.

Gojo never seemed to complain about his work or students and he didn’t really seem to take his job seriously, yet he always pulled it off. He talked about his so called dream to change the jujutsu world when in reality that wouldn’t be as simple as he thought it was. Even for the strongest shaman, this is a job that was almost impossible to accomplish alone. But as much as Gojo had confidence in himself, you believed he’d get far. Because whatever he wants always comes his way.

For example: you.

You and Gojo were actually classmates throughout high school, but nothing really happened between you back then. Being in a class of 4 didn’t really help with getting you two closer. It would be you and your friend and he with his. It wasn't rivalry or hatred, but rather a situation of seeing each other but ignoring each other’s presence. Your personalities just didn't match, or at least that’s what the both of you had convinced yourself to believe.

It wasn't until both of you actually became teachers that you grew closer to each other and that’s also when you realized he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was. Yes he was quite the clown, but in reality he was a very caring person.

The first years of your teaching career had been a constant loop of Gojo trying his best to get closer to you. His personality hadn’t changed much, but in whole honesty there wasn’t much different in yours either. The only difference was, that the both of you had finally become adults.

You liked Gojo, but telling him that back then would be like giving in on his constant confessions that you rejected as if it was a daily routine. Sooner or later you gave in, not being able to resist him. He knew you would fall for him, because he always gets his way.

You had been together for a long while now and even though you didn’t actually live together it was as good as if he lived with you. Both of you had an own place to stay at, but given the circumstances you always were together. With the whole Yuuji situation the teachers and higher ups didn’t really have a choice but to be together constantly. Stuff had to be talked about and for Gojo his students’ safety was his number one priority. Even though yuuji had brought this all on himself, Gojo had no intentions of letting him die any time soon. If they let him, he wouldn’t even let him die.

He always looked as if he was having the time of his life, but you knew him longer than today and sometimes his masked slipped. He didn’t deepen the conversation when you pointed it out, but he was already happy to have you by his side. He didn’t need words to comfort him, but even if he didn’t it felt as if you didn’t do much for him. You wanted to show him that you cared for him and that you would listen to him if he needed to vent.

He didn’t show, but the whole Yuuji situation messed with his head. The higher up scheming Yuuji’s death and Gojo constantly running behind his back to make sure Yuuji is safe. It tired him. He always said he was okey and gave you kiss on top of your head. It was a constant routine, but you noticed. You noticed how he’d fall asleep the second he arrived home and how he let his weight fall on you when you hugged him. You didn’t say anything because you didn’t want him to feel pressured. But you desperately hoped he would talk to you because the both of you knew that would be a big relief for him.

You went home earlier than usual. The students had begged you for a day off, but just randomly giving them a break was not the best option in these hectic days. They had to train, they had to get stronger. So you made a deal. If they caught you, you’d give them free the rest of the day. Of course they failed, but you saw great accomplishments so you agreed on giving them free for the rest of the day. They were also tired, you could tell. But you didn’t want them to get hurt because you weren’t able to teach them properly.

You sighed as you dropped your weight on the couch. You let your head fall back and looked at the ceiling. Your eyes darted to the clock on the wall. About an hour from now Gojo should be home. You could already tell how he’d be when he got home. His sleep deprived posture walking inside as he slumped on the bed. You felt bad to see him like that.

You were surprised to hear the door open and when you turned your head you say Gojo walking inside with his blindfolds in his hand. His hair was wet and he was supporting himself against the wall. You noticed this wasn't like normal, but before you could even walk up to him he had left to the bedroom and slammed the door shut. You knew it wasn’t directed you so you immediately knew something was wrong.

You raised from the couch and made your way to the bedroom. You knocked once and walked inside. “Hey, Satoru”, you said silently.

He was laying on his back on the bed, his feet touching the ground. You walked up to him and sat down next to him. You brushed your hand in his hair and felt water droplets collect on your hand, but you didn’t really care. He was breathing heavily and his heart was beating rapidly in his chest.

You didn’t was a word and kept your touch on his hair. He slowly rose from his laying position and rested his arms on his legs. His head was bent downwards and naturally your touch left his. You placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “Are you alright-”

And suddenly he dropped his head on your legs. You noticed that he was refusing to look at you. He was rejecting any kind of eye contact, just so you wouldn’t have to see his worn out face. He mumbled something, but you didn’t hear him. But before you could ask him to repeat himself, he spoke up again.

“Yuuji is-”, he said with a crack in his voice. “Yuuji is dead.”

You were shocked. Your heart dropped and you couldn’t even imagine how torn he must be feeling. He stood up and showed you his face. His eyes were red, he had been crying.

You placed your hands on his face and a tear rolled down his cheek. You wiped it away, caressing the spot a few times. “He did his best, so much. He wanted to become stronger, but I failed him.”

“No you didn't and I'm sure he thinks the same. You were so good to him and you thought him many amazing things. I bet he was so proud to say that he had you as his mentor. He was a great kid”, you said in a whisper to calm him down.

This was the first time he had shown any sign of vulnerability. You didn’t want to let him down and you wanted to show him that you cared. You wanted to show him that you were there for him, that you were willing to do anything in your power and beyond to help him.

“They killed him. They planned this, they schemed it so that he would die. They’ve been wanting him dead from the beginning and I swear I'm not gonna let them have this. I will destroy every single on of them and I will show them exactly how much of a mistake they made”, he said in a small voice.

“Hey, you did the best you could. And I have trust in you. I know you’re gonna make it and you’re gonna show them exactly how powerful you are. This won’t go unnoticed and we will make sure of that. Yuuji’s death will not be in vain”, you said.

You embraced him and pulled him flush against you. You pressed your lips together and closed your eyes as you squeezed him, as if he was about to fall from your grip and were to never return.

“We will get revenge”, you whispered as you felt his breath against your neck and felt the wetness of his tears create a damp spot on your shirt. “For Yuuji.”

You stayed like that for a while and you were almost convinced he was asleep. You slowly tried to wriggle the both of you in a laying position because you didn't want to wake him up, but his arm squeezing around your waist told you that he didn’t want to move just yet.

He moved away from your grip but placed his hands on your cheeks. “Thank you for being here for me and thank you for always knowing how to deal with me.”

You gave him a small smile of reassurance. You placed your hand on his cheek once again and pulled him in for a kiss, a small brush on the lips. “I will do everything in my power to help you get through this. And I will use up every bit of energy to carry on Yuuji’s will. We will protect the students together and we will take revenge for the teenager’s death. And we’ll do it together.”

No other word were spoken that night. No words were needed that night. The both of you had understood and the both of you had agreed. It was the first time Gojo had openly showed his feelings and you were more than happy to receive those emotions with open arms. To show him just how much you cared for him. But in reality he already knew and he didn’t need you to comfort him alone to understand that. He was a person that looked out for the smallest details and you just being there next to him, was really all he needed. And him being there, next to you was all you really needed.

#gojo angst #saturo gojou #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #gojo x y/n #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

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Serendipity - Part I. (Harry Styles)

a/n: i am BEYOND excited to share this story with you guys! i’ve been working on it for over a month now if not more and what started as just a oneshot, slowly grew into this massive fic. i really hope you’ll love the story of Harry and Lis bc im obsessed with them haha. please feel free to share your thoughts and reactions about the chapter and the fic itself!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 8k

SERIES MASTERPOST ⚫️ my masterlist ⚫️ come and talk to me about Serendipity! ⚫️ consider buying me a coffee!

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

There are people who plot out their New Year’s Eve plan even months before the last day of the year, making sure they will be celebrating the upcoming year at the best party possible. And then there are the folks who just ignore it until the very last moment and end up spending at a random place with even more random people.

Harry Styles desperately wanted to be the first kind, but unfortunately often found himself falling into the second case scenario. With his busy schedule and endless ocean of his upcoming projects, he never really had time to think about the last party of the day and usually ended up just tagging along some of his friends wherever they headed to. This year was no different, having to work up until even the last few days of the year, Harry had little to no thought about where he would be when the clock strikes midnight.

Just about a day before it, one of his old high school friends, Griff hits him up with a text if he would want to join them for the celebration at the pub he opened not that long ago. Harry didn’t think twice to accept the invitation, finally checking one more thing off his list, so he won’t just stay at home, and pathetically fall asleep at ten.

It’s nothing big or fancy, Griff assures him in the morning when he rings his friend up to ask when he should arrive and what he should bring.

“Nothing, ey? Just come and ‘ave a good time with us,” Griff tells him, though he already knows Harry won’t show up empty handed.

December 31st

A little before seven Harry opts for a quick shower before he dives deep in his wardrobe to find something to wear. He is torn between wearing a fancy outfit or something cozier, but eventually stands up for the latter, putting on a pair of light washed jeans, a simple white button up and a seaweed green knitted jumper under his coat. He doesn’t pay much attention to his hair, his curls falling around his head in a messy, warm brown halo. It’s been raining all day, it wouldn’t have had any use to try to tame them.

Slowly but surely, Harry feels the buzz in himself, excited to see his old friends and maybe meet some new people while having drinks and just relaxing. He grabs a bottle of fancy whiskey from his bar and heads out around eight.

Griff is one of the few people Harry stayed in touch with after his career launched so abruptly, the two of them often met up whenever Harry was around, having a pint together, just chatting up. Griff bought an old pub a few years prior and completely renewed it, opened at the beginning of the year, Harry was there at the opening party, he had way too much to drink, but he surely had a great time.

“There he is! My favorite arrogant son of a bitch!” Harry immediately hears as soon as he steps into the pub that’s already quite filled.

The tall lad makes his way through the groups of guests until he can envelop his old friend in a warm, brotherly hug as Harry chuckles at the name he just called him. Griff always loved that line from Harry’s song and never missed a chance to call him that. He doesn’t mind though, keeps that playful side of their friendship he always adored so much.

“Good to see you, mate,” Harry smirks at him. “Here, this is for yeh.” He holds out the pricey drink and Griff shakes his head at him.

“Told ya not to bring anything!” he sighs but accepts the gift anyway, knowing well Harry would just sneak into the back anyway and leave the liquor on his desk. “We ‘ave a nice evening ahead of us. Got food, drinks, everything’s on me, take what yeh want,” Griff assures him as the two of them walk further inside.

Harry sees a few familiar faces, high school friends, kids from around the neighborhood that are now grown adults, just like him, but there are quite a lot of guests he doesn’t know.

“C’mon, yeh need t’ ‘ave a welcome drink with me,” Griff grins as he pulls Harry to the bar and fills up two shot glasses generously. Harry doesn’t even bother to ask him what it is, he just takes the glass willingly and after they clink in the middle they both send it down.

Harry grimaces as the hard liquor burns down his throat, Griff never played around with the soft drinks, he knows what hits the best and fastest and Harry figures it’s one of those drinks that would have him crawling on the floor after two more shots.

It doesn’t take Harry long to mix and mingle, get into conversations and meet new people, just enjoying the welcoming and warm atmosphere of the party. He is pleased to see that people treat him just like any other guest, rather than a famous person and he is beyond thankful for that.

Near the bar, Griff has set up a quite rich buffet table filled with all kinds of snacks and food. It’s way past ten when Harry shuffles over there feeling his stomach growling. He grabs a paper plate and his eyes roam everything that’s set on the table. Humming to himself he decides to opt for the delicious looking fries, his mouth drools just at the sight of them, so he puts a generous amount to his plate before his eyes spot the bowl of peas. That’s exactly what he needs to go with the fries.

He goes a little overboard, but he couldn’t care less. Once he is satisfied with his meal he puts back the spoon that was sat in the bowl of peas, right when someone reaches for it. Glancing up his gaze meets a pair of warm brown eyes and a shy, but playful smile. Harry can’t stop himself from smiling instantly as the woman takes the spoon and fills her plate with peas. He looks down and sees that her plate is filled with the exact same things: fries and peas.

“Excellent choice,” he smirks teasingly and her eyes snap down to her plate before she sees the similarity on Harry’s plate. She lets out an airy chuckle before she tugs her chestnut colored, wavy locks behind her ears with her now free hand.

“Mother always told me to balance the junk out with something healthy,” she admits, the corners of her mouth curling up as she blinks a little shy under Harry’s burning gaze.

He always knew he had an eye for pretty things and he never dared to deny himself from admiring them once he laid his eyes on something he found breathtaking. She was by far the prettiest thing he has seen in quite some time, so he doesn’t shy away from taking in her figure in front of him. Delicious looking curves dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a sheer shirt with a top underneath it, the front tugged into the waist of the jeans. Her hair looks effortless, but he can tell she probably spent some time forming the natural looking waves before coming here. The thin eyeliner makes her eyes appear more cat-like and her long lashes dance around with each look she pays him.

“You want to—um, sit?” she stammers nodding towards an empty table near the buffet, a soft blush tainting her soft skin. Harry absolutely adores the hint of innocence in her features.

“’fcourse,” he nods and follows her.

The two of them move over to the table and sit down with their meal, Harry sneaking a fry into his mouth right away.

“’M Harry, by the way,” he says, realizing he hasn’t even introduced himself just yet. Some people tend to look at him weird whenever he does it, as if it should be common knowledge to know who he is, but he never takes it for granted. Luckily, she doesn’t find it funny or weird that he introduced himself.

“Annalise. But everyone just calls me Lis,” she explains and holds out a hand for him, which at first looks a little odd and he can tell she regrets the motion, but he appreciates it, even finds it cute. So before she can pull her hand back he takes it and gives it a soft shake. “So what brings you here tonight?” she asks as both of them digs into their food.

“Griff invited me, saved me last minute, didn’t have any plans.”

“How do you know him?”

Harry finds it amusing that she didn’t bring up that a famous person like him would probably have tons of invitations to fancy parties. He hates when people assume that his social life is blossoming at all times, packed with parties and events to attend every day.

“We went to high school together. Stayed in touch through the years.”

Lis nods with a small smile before her eyes return to the plate in front of her.

“How ‘bout you?”

“Oh, um… Well, Griff and I had a blind date like ages ago, but we both figured out pretty quickly we are never gonna be more than just friends. But that we are perfect for. Have been meeting up every once in a while. I was kind of in the same shoe like you, wasn’t planning on coming out tonight, but… I was forced to,” she admits with a nervous chuckle.

“Y’ don’t like to go out?”

“I—uh, don’t really have the time,” she answers, clearly a bit nervous at the topic so Harry decides to just drop it.

The two of them sit there, just talking and eating and with each passing moment Harry finds himself more and more enchanted by the woman sitting on his right. The way she rambles sometimes, how her nose scrunches whenever she is laughing hard, how she likes to keep tugging her hair behind her ears all the time, are the smallest things but they easily catch Harry’s attention.

Besides, she is not just the looks, also an amazing company. Easy to talk about anything, even the riskier things too. She doesn’t shy away from giving her honest and raw opinion, but also doesn’t attack if someone thinks differently. Instead, she is open to other point of views, seeking opportunities to learn and grow. It’s a mindset Harry values highly and feels like it’s hard to find it. But on this evening in his mate’s pub, he found a gem, it feels like.

The plates soon get swapped to beers and Lis is getting giddier with each gulp, which he finds amusing, especially because she lets her thoughts slip without thinking about them and it allows Harry to look into that pretty head of hers easier.

He doesn’t fail to notice how his heart flutters every time she touches his arm or hand whenever she is deep in a story. The warm touch of her soft hand is sending him into trembling and he is glad they are sitting because he surely would be having a hard time keeping himself up on his feet. She is just the kind of person that wraps others around her fingers without even trying or noticing.

Though it’s only been over an hour since he first laid his eyes on her, he feels like he has known her for ages. The connection built up fast and smoothly, sweeping Harry right off his feet. He’s got it bad for her and he already knows he wants to see her again once this night ends.

“Oh, it’s almost midnight!” Annalise gasps snapping out of her thoughts, a hand snapping to Harry’s upper arm. The crowd is starting to buzz, getting ready for the count down.

“C’mon, let’s get some champagne,” Harry tells her and helps her up from her seat.

They head to the bar and each of them grabs a flute filled with the sparkly alcohol. They stand a little to the side, but still mingled in the crowd of guests. Harry can feel his hands getting sweaty as he thinks about the countdown. Every fiber in his body is aching to kiss her, even though he knows it’s quite crazy knowing the fact they have known each other for only two hours. But he just can’t help it, she has a spell on him with just one look, making him act like a teenager in love.

Annalise peeks up at Harry with a lazy smile, the drinks have made her a little lightheaded, but she is nowhere near being drunk. Her thoughts are absolutely clear and they all focus on the man standing close to her.

Harry watches her bite into her bottom lip and he wonders if she is thinking about the same thing. If she’d be mad if he kissed her when the clock strikes midnight or slap him right across his face. He notices as she draws a deep breath, eyes looking around before they return to him.

“Get yo’ drinks, lads!” Griff shouts from somewhere behind the bar and those who haven’t picked up a glass quickly work on the problem.

Then the countdown begins.

“Ten!... Nine!... Eight!...”

Annalise glances up at Harry and her cheeks blush when she catches him already looking at her. She wishes she had her beer so she could hide in her glass from his burning eyes.

“Seven!... Six!...”

Harry turns so his whole body is facing her and takes just one tiny step towards her. When she doesn’t back away from him, he takes it as a sign that she might want the same thing as him.

“Five!... Four!...”

She looks straight up at him with a sheepish smile and pushes herself against him right when his free hand finds its way to her waist. She sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn’t move while Harry is aching to taste her plump, soft lips.

“Three!... Two!... One!... Happy New Year!”

The crowd cheers as one, guests are clapping and screaming, welcoming the new year with high hopes and full of planes for the new chapter that just started.

Harry and Annalise lock eyes and while everything around them is a full chaos, he feels like a bubble of silence and tranquility is surrounding them. Harry sucks in his breath, lips parted as he doesn’t break his gaze with hers. There’s a moment of hesitation, but the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he can’t let this moment go to waste.

Fuck it! He tells himself before he leans down and his lips meet hers in a soft, warm and breathtaking kiss.

He is a man who believes in magic, in things he can’t explain rationally, he is a man who doesn’t try to pull reality into everything when something odd happens. When his lips meet hers, he is swept right off his feet with just that tiny touch. It’s not a demanding kiss, very restricted and shy, but it still makes his insides tremble for her, almost falling to his knees right in front of her.

There’s a moment of hesitation from her side, when their lips are just touching in a little awkward way, but it fades into nothing before Harry could wrap his head around it, her lips parting as she lets him deepen the kiss, a soft moan slipping out of her throat that brings a knot to his stomach.

The moment is so vivid, raw and intoxicating, he wishes he could bottle it up and open it to have a taste of her anytime later, keep her in his pocket just to have her lips glued to his like this whenever he needs to be grounded or taken away from the world. His fingers dig into her waist, pulling her close to his body, hoping to just merge into her, become one with the woman in his arms.

She softly glides her hands up his arms, through his shoulders before they stop at the back of his neck, digging into his soft curls, while never breaking the kiss. Their lips stay melted together, tongues and teeth clashing, they are a hot mess in the first minutes of the new year.

The cheering slowly dies down and the usual buzzing of conversations and laughter replaces it, but the two of them are still busy with each other and it takes quite some time to pull themselves out of the bubble they created.

“Happy New Year, Lis,” Harry smiles down, lips swollen, eyes glistening from the joy that’s filling up his veins. She glances up at him shyly from under her lashes.

“Happy New Year, Harry,” she whispers, biting into her bottom lip, coming off the high this little make out session gave her.

One hour passes by, then another and the party is starting to slowly die down. People are flaking out the door, the crowd is getting smaller with each door opening.

Harry and Annalise remain in the corner of the place after their kiss, a barrier that’s been noticeably present before has come down as Harry has his arm swung over the back of her chair and she lets herself lean against his side. There’s something so calming and tranquil in just being so close to each other, sharing thoughts and stories while his fingers graze on her shoulder gently and her head always falls to his shoulder when she laughs on something. He loves her laugh, it could easily light up any place and Harry can’t help but feel sorry for the people who don’t see her shine. So many guests didn’t get the chance to get to know her, but on the other hand, he is a bit selfish, he wants her all to himself. No one else should have the honor of making her laugh or bringing a smile to her perfect lips. He wants her all to himself, even if it makes him sound like a mad man.

After she leaves to the restroom, she comes back with her phone in her hands and a tired smile playing on her lips.

“I, uhh—called an Uber. I really should get going,” she tells him and he wants to make her stay. He wants this evening to last forever, but he can’t ask her to stay longer than she wants, so he just slowly nods.

“I’ll walk you out,” he offers, but it’s more like a fact.

The two of them find their coats on the packed rack, Annalise says goodbye to the handful of people she knows, hugging Griff before they head outside to wait for her car to arrive.

“I really enjoyed tonight,” Harry mumbles, shoving his hands into his coat’s pockets, feeling like a nervous teenage boy talking to his crush. She glances up at him with a smile, but there’s something clouding her eyes he can’t really put his finger on.

“Me too,” she assures him, a pair of headlights turning the corner and they both look in the approaching car’s direction before facing each other. “It was really great meeting you, Harry. Take care of yourself in the new year,” she tells her, but he doesn’t like the weight of her words. It sounds like a proper goodbye, like she is bracing herself to never meet him again, but he can’t let that happen.

“Can I—Uh, can I have your number? I would love to take you out sometime.”

The car stops next to them and she nods in the driver’s way to let him know she’s the one he is supposed to pick up. Taking a step to the backseat, she looks back at Harry.

“I’m really sorry, Harry, but we can’t.”

Devastation washes over him, her words are like a punch into his stomach each. Why is she rejecting him? Did she not enjoy the evening? Did he say something stupid? She seemed to be having a great time, so why can’t he see her again?

“What? Are you sure? Because I really loved tonight and would love to see you again.”

Annalise opens the car door and shoots him an apologetic look. He has never felt this helpless in his life, than at that moment, looking at the woman of his dreams escape from his reach.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t get into… whatever it is you want from me. I really am sorry, I wish it was different.”

“But I just want to see you again. I thought… You didn’t feel like it was something special?” he breathes out, feeling the world crashing down on him with each passing moment.

“I did, but I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Take care, Harry,” she sighs, clearly not happy about her own actions and he doesn’t understand why she is fleeing away like this.

He stands there, completely frozen as she gets into the car and shuts the door open. Their eyes meet through the window one last time before the car starts moving and she falls out of his view. He stares after her until the very last moment, when the car disappears at the end of the street, leaving him in pieces from the major rejection he just suffered.

He stays out there until his nose and cheeks turn red and his ears are freezing off, part of him wishing that if he just waits she’s gonna magically reappear and tell him it was just a joke. He can’t believe he met such a wonderful creature and had to let her go like she didn’t flip his whole world upside down under just a couple of hours. Does she know how much of an effect she had on him?

She probably doesn’t, he thinks to herself, because then she wouldn’t have left so abruptly and without a trace for him to find her again.

When Harry returns to the pub, he is met with a tipsy Griff, shoving a pint into his hand immediately.

“Ay, saw you hanging with Lis all night!” he teases Harry, but the mentioning of her name just makes his heart ache. However, knowing that Griff is friends with her, he is ready to use him as a way to get to her.

“Yeah, hey, you have her number?” he asks, trying his best to look as innocent as possible, but Griff sees right through him, even with all the alcohol in his body.

“Sorry, mate. F’she didn’t give it to ya, I won’t go against her.”

“I’m begging you, Griff. I need to see her again!” he sighs in despair, ready to do anything he can to get to her.

“Y’not the first bloke to fall for her magic. I know what it feels like, but I can’t do anything, sorry.” He shrugs his shoulders, giving an apologetic look to his friend before he joins another conversation.

Harry could scream from the frustration, the urge to punch something or someone is growing with each passing moment, but he has to realize there’s nothing he can do at this point other than accept the fact that he met this wonderful woman, had the best night with her and then was forced to watch her walk out of his life before she could even become part of it properly.

Harry starts to realize that what he thought about heartbreaks is nothing compared to the feeling Annalise left in his heavy heart.

There has to be a solid reason for what she did. Or did not do.

Endless theories about Annalise flood his mind through the days following that night when he was forced to watch her leave on such a bitter and painful note. Harry couldn’t stop himself from making up the most ridiculous cases just to give himself a possible peace of mind, but neither of them brought him enough comfort to forget about her.

His best shot was that she had a boyfriend, or even worse, a husband. This was the only version that sounded somewhat real and believable, though he just knew she is not the type of woman to cheat on a significant other.

How would you know? You spent just one evening with her, she could be a serial killer for all you know! Harry’s rational side was always quick to shut him down when his thought swirled around the idea of knowing her well enough to assume anything about her.

As the days dragged by him in a painful pace, he slowly had to realize it’s going to be a question in his life he’ll never get an answer to, so he just has to learn to live with the thought of the woman that got away.

The end of January rolls around faster than he could comprehend, February comes and he finds himself spending his days mostly in the studio, cooking up new music. Studio sessions are his favorite. That’s his element, he feels safe and comfortable, surrounded by people he trusts and enjoys creating his art fully. In the new year, he has also been eager to pick up a new hobby so he has been trying himself out in knitting and painting recently, finding both of them just a tad bit too hard for him just yet, but they were enough to get his mind off of the one woman who was constantly occupying his thoughts following New Year’s Eve.

Sitting in an armchair in the studio, he and his bandmates are listening back to some recordings they did today and he is trying to find that one thing that keeps throwing him off whenever he hears the song.

“I think it’s great,” Mitch states once the recording ends, and Harry agrees, it is great, but not the best.

“Maybe we could tone down the keyboard a little through the bridge, give more space for the guitar,” he contemplates, but really, he is just shooting in the dark, not sure what it is that keeps him on edge about the song.

“Why don’t we have a break?” Sarah suggests with a warm smile, seeing how everyone is keen on leaving for a little, except Harry, who is still fixated on mastering the song. But he agrees to have the break, however while everyone gets ready to leave and grab something to eat from the diner that’s around the corner, Harry stays where he is, eyes glued to his notebook.

“You’re not coming?” Charlotte asks him and he just shakes his head.

“No, not that hungry.” He looks up and shoots them a short smile and though they all can tell he could use the time out, they know him enough already that he won’t leave before he finds what’s not right.

“Alright. We’ll be back in an hour,” Mitch informs him and he dismisses them all with a nod.

He stays right there, going through the lyrics a few more times, making tiny changes in hopes that it’ll fix it all, but he can feel himself growing frustrated. Doesn’t matter how hard he is trying, he realizes his brain needs a break. Letting out a defeated huff he leans back, looking around in the empty studio. He doesn’t feel particularly hungry, but he could use something to snack on. So grabbing his coat he locks up the studio and heads out to the nearby Tesco they usually run out during sessions.

He is still humming the melody to himself when he walks in, a pair of sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, his famous curls hidden under a green beanie. He doesn’t bother to get a cart or basket, just strolls inside and roams down the aisles, trying to decide what he desires.

He settles on some kind of canned tea and a protein bar, but before he heads towards the cash registers, he wanders down the aisle where they keep cereals, looking around aimlessly. It’s the middle of the day on a weekday, most people are at work at this hour, so just a few other customers are lingering around, filling their carts. At first, he doesn’t pay any attention to the figure a little further down the aisle, his eyes are glued to the shelves, but then he just mindlessly glances to his left, his brain not even processing what, or who he is seeing at first. Then he takes a double take and his stomach drops to the tiled floor when he recognizes the woman, deep in her thoughts to decide which cereal to buy.

Annalise is standing just a few meters away from him, looking just as beautiful as he remembered, wearing a pair of simple jeans, light blue sneakers and a white jacket, her hair is in a loose ponytail on the top of her head.

“Lis?” he calls out, as if he thinks she is just a ghost. Taking a few steps closer he watches as her eyes fall from the products on the shelves to him, then they widen and her lips part in shock.

“Harry? Wha-what are you doing here?” she asks and Harry is quick to read the panic out of her tone as she looks around cautiously.

“I’m… shopping?” he answers with a soft chuckle, holding up the items in his hands.

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“The studio we use is nearby, I drop by sometimes. But today is clearly my lucky day.” Even though her reaction is giving him doubts, he can’t hide his joy upon seeing her again, fate clearly playing on his side this time.

“Uh, yeah?” she lets out an anxious chuckle, her eyes often wandering off him, as if she is waiting for someone to show up and it just fuels Harry’s rich theories about her.

“So, are you here with your boyfriend?” he boldly asks, deciding to just go for it. Annalise’s eyes widen once again, but not in a way that makes him think he just busted her, it’s more of a confused one.

“Boyfriend? What are you talking about?”

“Well, you basically ran away from me that night, I figured you had someone and that’s why you didn’t want to give me your number.” He tries his best not to sound petty or bitter, though that’s exactly what he’s been feeling ever since she left that night.

“Harry, that’s… not the case.”

“Okay, so does this mean you’ll give me your number this time?” he tries and he is so busy with her presence, he doesn’t even notice when a smaller frame runs past him down the aisle.

“Mommy! I want this!”

At first, he doesn’t even register that the little boy is talking to Annalise, he dismisses his presence, eyes still fixated on her, but then her gaze leaves him and turns down to the boy, holding up a bar of chocolate.

“Honey, that’s too big. Choose something smaller, alright?”

It takes Harry a few moments to put one and one together. This kid just ran up to her, called her mommy and most likely not on accident since she answered him, very much talking to him like his mother. Though Harry can’t see his own face, he knows it fell, shock completely taking over him as his thoughts finally add up. Annalise looks back at him in panic, completely puzzled about what to do or say.

“Benji, go get another one, a smaller one while I talk to my friend here,” Annalise softly tells the boy.

He turns to Harry, eyes meeting his as he cocks his head to the side, examining the shocked adult standing in front of him.

“Who’s this?” he blurts out.

“Just a friend, alright? Go get your chocolate,” she urges. Benji gives Harry another look before nodding and running off, leaving them alone once again in the cereal aisle. “Harry, I-I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to know.”

“Are you married?” is his first question, taking her by surprise.

“What?”

“The father. Is he your husband?” he urges, eager to clear the picture. Annalise shakes her head.

“No, we were never even married.”

He feels relief washing over him. At least at this point he doesn’t feel like a homewrecker. If he found out she wasn’t only a mother but also married, and that she cheated on the dude with him, that would have crushed him. But it’s one less thing to worry about on a long list.

“Okay, it’s fine. You are not married, it’s all good,” he breathes out and it brings her a smile through this absurd situation.

“You thought I was married?”

“Or at least had a boyfriend, yeah,” he nods, hands on his hips as he licks his lips. He surely had a mini panic attack, but he can feel the life coming back into his body.

“Do I come off like the kind to cheat that easily?” she asks with raised eyebrows, but she didn’t take it as an offense, she more like finds it funny rather than hurtful.

“No, not at all! I was just trying to figure out why you rejected me and this was my best shot!”

“I’m sorry, Harry. I just… I didn’t know how to tell and I didn’t really think you would want to see me again after that night.”

“I think I made it clear that I wanted to when I asked for your number.”

“Well, yes, but I thought you just wanted a hookup and that’s just not what I can do.”

“Because of…” he gestures towards the boy that jolted down the aisle just a few minutes ago.

“Because of Benji, yeah.”

“Alright, it’s understandable, but I did not just want a hookup, and that’s still not what I want,” he clears, his words certainly surprising her. This is definitely not what she was expecting when she came down to get groceries today.

“Harry…” she breathes out, already feeling guilty that she is about to turn him down once again. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a single mother with a six year-old and you are… you.”

“I don’t see your point,” he truthfully answers.

“I’m not some model you chatted up at some award show, who is living her best life, traveling the world just like you. My days consist of work, doing laundry, cleaning the house, cooking, doing first grade homework, going to football practice and watching cartoons. We are polar opposites.”

“No, just our lifestyles, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get closer.”

“Is that really what you want?”

Harry is about to answer right when Benji emerges again, proudly holding up a bar of KitKat in his hand this time.

“This one! This one!” he declares, stopping next to Annalise.

“Okay, put it in,” she nods and the little boy throws the chocolate into the cart with a beaming smile. Her eyes flicker back to Harry, who is now staring down at Benji, who is seemingly not that interested in him at the moment, his attention is more focused on the cereals on the shelves.

She is aware she can’t really push this conversation, but she also doesn’t want Benji to hear it.

“Benji, can you get me three apples? I’ll go get paper towels in the next aisle, alright?”

“Three?” he asks holding up three fingers to make sure he heard her right.

“Yes.”

Benji nods and runs off once again, while Annalise grabs a random box of cereal off the shelf and starts pushing her cart, Harry walking along with him.

“It’s nice that you want to prove that you are fine with whatever baggage I come with, but I’m not stupid, Harry. I know I’m not the jackpot and I’m not naïve, I’m not trying to make myself believe that I’m easy to date when I’m clearly not.”

“You act like you are the only single parent out in the dating field. I genuinely don’t think that it’s that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, that’s what you are saying now. But then we would get more involved, you’d grow frustrated that I can’t just go after you whenever you feel like it, or that I would have to cancel on plans because Benji is sick or has homework to do that he needs help with. Or that my Friday night consists of playing board games, then watching whatever cartoon Benji is keen on seeing and I’m in bed by ten while you probably spend these nights out with your friends, hopping from one bar to the other. And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t, that’s exactly what you should be doing at your age… at our age. But for me, it’s just different.”

She is not talking just out of theories. She has tried to date, several times, but it was always kind of doomed from the beginning. Men in their mid-twenties don’t want to be a stand-in dad, though it’s completely not what she expects. But as time went by, they all grew tired of having to deal with a kid in the relationship and they all ended up leaving and she can’t even blame them. It’s not what they want in life at this point, but she can’t be what they wanted her to be so slowly but surely she gave up on finding a man before she turns thirty and her peers start to get into the whole idea of having a family that’s already been her reality since she was eighteen.

And the situation is even more complicated with Harry. An international rockstar is definitely not the right person for her and vice versa. She can only imagine what some lowlifes would think when they found out he is dating a single mother. People can be cruel for no damn reason and she is definitely not in the right mindset to be humiliated just because she is a mother.

The two of them move down to the next aisle so she can grab the paper towels along with some dish soap. Harry is keen on making her understand that he is still very much interested and he has nothing against her being a mother. It was just a little shocking to find out this way, instead of hearing about it from her.

“I think you have an unreasonable picture in your head of what my life is like,” he explains. “Yes, I do travel a lot and I go to parties, but it’s not what I do most in life. And I’m not expecting you to turn your whole life around for me.”

“Yeah, but dating me is kind of me asking you to turn your whole life around for us,” she simply says and he is stunned at her words, having nothing to bring up against them. “Look,” she sighs. “I appreciate the effort and everything, but I want to save you the time, just like I originally wanted to. I know that it seems reasonable now, but once you get involved, it’s a whole different world, I’m telling you. And while I would love to give you the chance to prove me wrong, I still have to think about Benji. I can’t just drag someone into his life and then have them leave when they figure out it’s not what they want after all. He needs stability around him and it’s enough that he can’t get that from his father.”

Harry has a million questions roaming in his head that he is dying to ask. Mostly about the father, because if he is not in the picture, he can’t imagine what kind of scumbag he is for leaving someone like her. But he keeps them all to himself, especially when Benji appears again with the three apples, putting them into the cart with a proud smile. The boy turns to Harry this time, finally acknowledging his presence.

“Who are you?” he asks. Harry looks down at him and pushes everything else into the back of his mind as he hunches down a bit, holding out his hand for the boy, a friendly smile playing on his lips.

“I’m Harry, your mum’s friend. Nice to meet you.”

The boy doesn’t hesitate to take his right held out, his small hand almost getting lost in Harry’s big palm as they shake hands like two adults. Harry is stunned by how confident he is, unlike most kids his age.

“I’m Benjamin Lloyd,” the boy introduces himself smiling and Harry can see the resemblance now clearer than anything. His smile is certainly his mother’s and the shape of his eyes along with his chin are the exact same as Annalise’s, leaving only a few traits that must have been inherited from his father.

Benjamin lets go of Harry’s hand and turns back to his mother completely unbothered by the man he just met.

“Mum, are we staying on the playground a little?” he asks as they all move down the aisle, heading to the cash register.

“Uh, yeah, we can stay for a little, but you need to do homework when we get home. Mrs. Conrad sent me all the work you missed today so we have to catch up on everything. You got away with faking sickness this morning, but you are doing the work you missed.”

Benji doesn’t fuss about having to do work, he knew this would happen when he faked to have a tummy ache, he nods understanding the importance of doing his homework and Harry is amazed by how great his behavior is. Most kids his age would have thrown a tantrum over what Annalise just said, but not Benji. He is like a small adult, Harry thinks.

“I honestly don’t see why you still have to push me away completely. Did you not enjoy talking with me?” Harry continues as they stand in line, Annalise putting everything to the belt from the cart while Benji is busy playing around the poles that separate the lines.

“Of course I did!” she sighs.

“So then why can’t we just continue? See where it goes?”

“Because that’s just not how things work for me,” she says with a soft, sad chuckle.

“What, you can’t have friends?” Harry asks innocently as Annalise finishes packing, puts a divider on the belt so Harry can put his items behind hers.

“Oh, so you just want to be friends?” she asks raising her eyebrows, seeing through him easily. Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, a cheeky smile stretching across her face that makes her chuckle.

“For now, yeah?” he tries to sound convincing, but it’s more of a joke.

The cashier starts to scan her items so she pushes the cart over to the end and starts packing everything back, Benji still climbing on the poles, completely oblivious to the conversation happening around him, or he just chooses not to listen.

“You are unbelievable,” she shakes her head at the man in the line. The cashier finishes up with her items and she taps her card on the terminal, pushing the cart away a little.

Harry is scared that she’ll flee the moment she gets the receipt and leaves before she could go after her, but for his biggest surprise, she just pushes the cart a little away from the cash register and starts packing her items into totebags. Benji runs up to her and she gives him his KitKat without a word, the boy happily tearing the packaging open, snacking on the chocolate.

Harry is quick to finish with his items, catching up with Annalise as the three of them head out of the supermarket.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, I haven’t felt like this with anyone in a long time, Lis. I loved talking to you, I feel like we had a connection, and I think you felt it too. I would hate to waste whatever we had so I’m offering you my friendship. I want to hang out, spend time with you, just as two adults enjoying each other’s company. Nothing more, if that’s what you really want for now. And we can see where it heads later. How does that sound?”

They reach her car and Benji runs to the backseat, tearing the door open while Annalise opens the trunk and she is surprised to see Harry help her pack her bags into the car, but she doesn’t protest.

“I really don’t know…” she sighs.

“Come on! Just friends. Give it a try! I have a great feeling about it and I promise to be very careful. I understand that you need boundaries because of Benji and I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable in any way. But you do have to realize that you need to open up at one point. You can’t use him as an excuse forever.”

“I’m not using him as an excuse!” she points out, but she can feel how that’s not the whole truth.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lis,” Harry smirks, pulling his phone out of his coat’s pocket and unlocking it he holds it out for her once she has closed the trunk. “I’m just asking for your phone number, not to travel the world with me. You can decide to block me later if you change your mind, it’s nothing serious, alright?”

Annalise’s hesitation is clearer than the light and in any other case, he would take offence at it, but not with her. Harry is keen on proving to her that he meant everything he said and that he is willing to take a chance with her.

Chewing on the inside of her cheeks, she glances back at Benji, who has climbed into his seat in the back of the car. She is fighting with herself, bringing up all pros and contras until she finally caves in. Grabbing the phone from Harry’s hand she types her number in and gives herself a ring so she can save his number as well. She hands the device back and Harry’s smile is so wide, she almost wants to punch him in the face, but she can also feel the excitement running through her veins.

“Great. You won’t regret it, Lis,” Harry beams shoving his phone back into his pocket. His hand reaches for her arm and gives it a gentle squeeze as he doesn’t want to try anything further with her at the moment.

“I better not,” she mumbles shaking her head before turning around to buckle Benji in. When that’s done she pays one last glance at Harry who stands at the car next to hers, watching her get behind the wheel and back out from her spot. He waves at her happily and she just nods in his way before turning around the car and driving away.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!” Harry rages through the phone, his anger only met with a soft chuckle from Griff on the other end of the call.

“Mate, I told ya, s’not my place! She didn’t tell ya, so I didn’t either.”

“You saw how hooked I was on her! You could have, no, no… you should have told me!”

Harry was quick to run back to the studio and called Griff right away to load everything out on him. He felt betrayed that his friend didn’t let him know this small little detail even after seeing him all crushed after she left without a trace to find her. He gets his reasoning, he does, but it still doesn’t stop him from being so bloody mad at his mate.

“Sorry! I really am sorry! But I know how protective she is over Benji. I was not gonna betray her like tha’.”

Harry takes a deep breath, paying up and down the hallway in the studio, trying his best to calm his nerves. It’s an unfortunate situation as a whole, he sees that clearly, but the frustration how it had to go down at the end is getting the best out of him for sure. He is not mad at one specific person, because everyone was doing what they thought to be the best, but everything added up to be such a shitty outcome, or at least on Harry’s side.

Pinching the bridge of his nose he huffs again, putting aside his burning emotions.

“Okay, okay. Sorry to snap at you like that, it was just… a lot.”

“I get it, don’ worry about it,” Griff assures him, glasses clinking behind him somewhere, he is probably working at the pub as they are speaking. “She gave ya her number now, right?”

“Yeah, she didn’t want to, but I talked her ears off,” Harry chuckles lowly. He could still feel the excitement that rushed through him when she finally gave in.

“M’happy for ya, mate. But please be bloody careful. She doesn’t need any shit right now, has enough on her plate.”

“I know. I’m just trying to be her friend first, that’s all.”

“Alright. Swing by the pub sometime soon, if ya want.”

“Sure thing. Bye Griff,” Harry smiles before ending the call.

Walking back into the recording room, all eyes snap up to him and he stops in his track.

“What?”

“The hell was that about?” Sarah questions, asking in the name of everyone in the room. They all just heard his rage outside and now are dying to know what it was about.

“I uhh—I found her,” he simply says and watches all his bandmates gawk back at him with wide eyes.

“What? Did you like, hire a private investigator or something?” Charlotte asks, making Harry chuckle as he shakes his head no.

“No, I ran into her at Tesco. Well, her and her… son.”

His last word washes out the whole room, everyone stops breathing for a moment as they stare back at Harry who has that ‘yeah, you heard me right’ look on his face.

“A son?” Mitch asks snapping out of his shock. “Like a proper kid?”

“How do you not have a proper kid?” Harry asks him with a look.

“I don’t know! I’m just… surprised. How old is the kid?”

“Like six or seven. She said something about being a first grader.”

“Didn’t you say she is a year younger than you?” Sarah asks, as everyone is doing the silent math in their head.

“She is, with one year. Or that’s what she told me.”

“That makes her, what, like eighteen when she had the kid? And what about the father?” Charlotte trails, still trying hard to put the picture together.

“She didn’t say much, but from what I understood, he is not really in the picture. So at least she is not married or something,” Harry adds, still open about the relief he is feeling about that information.

“This shit is twisted,” Sarah huffs. “So what’s gonna happen now? Did you ask for her number again?”

“Ask?” Harry chuckles bitterly. “I begged, Sarah. I was ready to be on my knees in the middle of a bloody Tesco.”

A round of laughter runs through the room and the mood finally eases a little after the shock that just set in. It wasn’t the fact that Annalise had a son that sent everyone over the edge, but rather that she didn’t say a single word about it and how it all surfaced.

“And did she give it to you?” Mitch prompts and Harry nods, a shy smile stretching on his lips as the two girls start clapping and cheering.

They all saw his long face after New Year’s Eve, it couldn’t be missed how he was moping around for weeks. He told them all about this girl he met, who completely blew his mind just before breaking his heart. Now that she was found and gave him just a small crumble of information about her to him that makes him able to contact her, the change is visible. That little sparkle in his eyes is back and that’s all his friends wanted to see.

“So what are you gonna do now?” Sarah asks as Harry walks over to one of the armchairs and makes himself comfortable.

“Now… I’ll try not to scare her off. Hopefully she won’t push me away and at least let me be her friend.”

“Friend? Is that what you want to be?”

“Of course not,” he sighs, his head dropping to the back of the armchair. “But this is all I can do for now.”

They all just nod, tasting his words and letting everything that just happened sink in. Harry is doing the same, he has a lot to think about and figure out, but there’s one thing he is one hundred percent sure about: he will not give up on Annalise.

NEXT PART

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318 notes · View notes

yaku-soba · 3 years

Text

all roads lead home

༶•┈┈ general m.list

༶•┈┈ tsukishima kei x gn!reader | angst with a hopeful ending :”)

tags/warnings: language, childhood friends, they’re exes but it gets better i promise, almost all the karasuno boys stay on in miyagi

word count: 3.7k

a/n: the edited version of an old fic i wrote for a followers event on my old blog :”) the prompt was i’ll name this city after you :D i hope yall enjoy this!!

synopsis: You want (an apology, an explanation) to forget, and to get on the next train back to Tokyo, never mind that this is your first time visiting Miyagi in two years. Tsukishima wants to quit his shitty job as an overworked barista (at your favourite cafe, as if the night shifts weren’t tormenting enough). Tadashi just wants the three of you to have lunch together again.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

The sun is setting when you step off the train and onto a platform that you haven’t laid your eyes on in nearly two years.

(It’s been a lifetime.)

The vending machine that you used to rap your knuckles against in the hopes of knocking free an extra drink is still in the corner, as dirty and forlorn as you remember. It’s oddly reassuring - in a liminal, jarring sort of way - like you’ve stepped off the train and into the past, like you’re eighteen again.

“Y/n!” Tadashi looks much the same as he had when you’d graduated high school - smile maybe a little brighter, hands a little larger. Heart still as huge as it had been when you’d left.

He holds his arms out and you jump, throwing yours around his neck. Tadashi wheezes at the sudden weight, and you laugh as his hands wrap around your waist to crush you to him by the small of your back, barely managing to keep the both of you upright.

“It’s nice to see you again, Y/n.” He smiles earnestly, and you let go of his shoulders to pull at his cheeks, cooing. “Hey, stop that,” he whines, and when you refuse, he eyes you warningly, “I’ll drop you!”

You stick your tongue out at him childishly, but relent. He sets you back on the ground gently, and you turn back to pick up the bag you’d dropped.

“Come on,” he says, “let’s go home.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

The peace doesn’t last.

You really should have known, with the way Tadashi has been sneaking glances at you on the way out of the station. You’ve known him long enough to know what that expression means - he looks at you like he has something to say, but isn’t sure if he should, and that’s perfectly fine with you.

You’re starting to think you just might make it all the way home when a corner of the night sky chips and falls away, cracking right down the middle as your best friend says softly, “You should go home.”

You freeze. You know, instantly, what - who - he’s talking about.

The betrayal stings the back of your throat like bile.

You look away, fixing your eyes angrily - you can’t help it, Tadashi knows that you hate talking about this, about him, but he’d asked anyway - on the dried leaf skittering across the abandoned playground, at the mercy of the wind.

“I am home,” you point out uncooperatively, feeling childish, “that’s why I’m back in this shithole.”

“That’s not what I meant,” your best friend says into the night air, still in that annoyingly gentle way of his that makes you want to scream into the empty streets of this empty town. You wait, an open heart raw in the world, but he says nothing more.

(Two years later, and Tadashi still reads you as easily as he had when the two of you were six and tracing the lines on your palms. Dancing on the edge of a cliff but stopping just short of falling over.)

“Y/n?” Shit, of course you’d wander into him on your first night back, the universe has a personal vendetta against you, how could you have forgotten.

Next to you, Tadashi has gone very, very silent. And still. A little like a mouse stuck between a cat and a snake; relieved to have been momentarily saved from the clutches of one, newly worried about both, and too afraid of drawing attention to run away.

You’d laugh, if it weren’t for the rage rising in the back of your throat like bile, jagged like a broken promise.

“Y/n,” the bastard behind you repeats, and the sound of your name leaving his tongue is nothing short of heartbreak, “I didn’t know you were back.”

Slowly, you turn. Tsukishima looks just as you remember - stupid glasses on a stupid face, his hair longer but no less beautiful. As aggravating as he is breathtaking.

(Something in your chest - no, not your heart - aches. You reach down and crush it between your fingers the way you used to crumple the torn pages of your notebook into little balls, to throw them at Tadashi, or-)

“Tsukishima,” your voice is even, good, “I don’t see why it’s any of your business.”

He flinches, a minute action you would have missed if you didn’t already know him better than the old callouses on your palm. Good, you think again more vindictively - except his eyes are widening just slightly in shock, two gold pools like shadowed streetlamps, and suddenly you’re eighteen again.

You’re eighteen, and in love, and you’re blind enough to say, I would do anything for you, I would scrape my knees on metaphorical sidewalks everyday for the rest of my life if I had to, just to make you smile.

You’re eighteen, and you’re foolish enough to think, I would give you the world if you asked, surely you’d let me have your heart; your tiny hometown, your little safehouse.

You're eighteen, and you’re in love - and then you realize he’s not, not the way you are, and you fall on your empty sidewalks because it hurts and it tears you apart, but most of all you hate that you still care.

You hated being eighteen.

“If that’s all you wanted to say,” you continue coldly, “I’m leaving.”

You turn on your heel, avoiding Tadashi’s eyes. You won’t make him choose - you can’t do that to him.

Tsukishima says nothing as you stalk away down the empty streets and towards the house you grew up in.

(Somehow, you’re disappointed.

You tell yourself it’s because it’s been a long day.)

“Y/n, wait!” Tadashi calls, and you lengthen your strides angrily even as you hear him puffing up the slight incline behind you. “Y/n!”

“What,” you hiss, stopping short. You don’t turn - you don’t want to check if Tsukishima’s still there.

(You’ve seen enough of his back to last you a lifetime.)

“Are you okay?” Your best friend asks, and you look at him in disbelief.

“I thought you were on his side,” you say dumbly, before realizing that that’s a road that leads to ugly places.

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” Tadashi says diplomatically before you can try to apologize, “I just want us - the three of us - to have lunch together again.”

You scoff, and start walking, adjusting your bag. “Sure, I’ll text Hinata, I’m sure he won’t mind as long as we agree to volleyball practice with him first.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Tadashi says for the second time tonight, this time with a hint of frustration, “and you know it.”

“I do,” you acknowledge, “the same way you know that I want nothing to do with the four-eyed bastard.”

“You liked his glasses,” he tells you indignantly, catching up with you easily, “you used to steal them-”

“Liked, used to,” you snarl as the taut string of your patience finally snaps, “as in past tense. Leave if you’re just going to torment me. We both know I’ll get enough of it once I’m back home.”

Tadashi falls silent at that. A small part of you feels guilty, till you remember that it’s not your fault that he’d chosen to drag up old, unpleasant memories from beyond the grave, where you’d buried them.

“Do you want me to stay for dinner?” He asks finally. An olive branch.

You throw him a tense smile. “If you’d like.”

“Okay,” he breathes, and it’s like you’re looking at six year-old Tadashi again - young, painfully innocent, apologetic. “Okay, I’d like to. It’s been two years, after all.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

(You still think of him.

You could be baking in your kitchen in your apartment in Tokyo and all you can see is the curling steam of buns he bought at Sakanoshita store after practice. You could be walking past an electronics store and you’d find yourself looking at the TV screens, half-wondering if they replay the matches from a no-name high school in a far-away part of Japan.

They never do.

It doesn’t stop you from seeing in your mind’s eye the surge of a block, the curve of taped fingers.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Because the universe hates you, you run into Tsukishima again, just a day into your brief return to Miyagi.

Walking through the glass doors of what had once been your favourite cafe and not paying attention to anything beyond one feet of you as you text Hinata that you’re there early, you don’t immediately notice that the barista has frozen in place.

You look up.

Tsukishima is staring at you, a carton of milk in one hand, the other resting on the blender. Even against the battered machine, his fingers are painfully elegant.

(Bandaged fingers against red and green and white. Pale fingers entwined with your own. A flash of memory, too painful to be anything but a curse.)

“Y/n?” He says, and it’s too much, it sounds so much like the way he’d said your name when you were seventeen, when you were eighteen, that your heart stutters and does a few flips on its way up your throat. A bad habit you never quite managed to get rid of.

You turn around, and walk back the way you’d came.

The bell tinkles mockingly as the door swings shut behind you.

“Y/n?” You flinch, but it’s just Hinata. “I knew it! It really is you, Y/n!” Hinata, bless him, beams. Then, as his eyes fall to your white-knuckled grip on your phone, he asks, “Is something wrong?”

Nothing, you want to say, let’s go for brunch, shall we? Instead, what comes out is, “You didn’t tell me he worked here.” It ends up sounding a tad accusatory. You only regret it a little.

“Oh, Tsukishima?” He asks casually, and you barely resist the urge to flinch at the name, “Sorry, I forgot.” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, and - it looks genuine. Hinata’s a terrible liar; you’d know if he was pulling a fast one on you.

You sigh. It’s not even eleven in the morning, and you want to go home. “It’s fine,” you reassure him, even though it’s very much not, “let’s just find somewhere else to eat.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“Do you have to leave?” He’s leaning against the door to your room, but there’s no relaxation in his posture. With his arms crossed and his brows furrowed, his face shut like a window screen, all Tsukishima looks is aggressive.

Something about the way he says have to, like it’s something unreasonable and selfish that you can’t let go of, grates on your nerves.

(Sometimes, when Tsukishima gets like this, he makes you feel small. More childish than child-like.)

“It’s a good opportunity for me,” you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve said those six words, in that order, “and it’s a scholarship, too.” You can’t quite keep the irritation out of your voice.

This is good for you, why can’t he just see that?

“Oh, so you’re one of those,” your boyfriend says, and there’s something ugly in his sneer that has you recoiling, “just going to-to up and leave, aren’t you? Build a new life for yourself in the fancy city now that you’re too good for this nowhere town in a no-name prefecture?”

You frown, properly frustrated now. “I’m not severing ties,” you say, “I know being in different prefectures will be tough, but it’s something that we can work around.”

You hate that it almost sounds like you’re pleading. You shouldn’t have to.

“We’re still in the same country - it’ll be easier to visit and call each other, with no time-zone differences in the way.”

Tsukishima laughs. It’s as sharp as the broken glass of a shattered photo frame. “Yeah, like I don’t know how these stories go.”

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

Tsukishima sighs as eight p.m finally hits and he can turn the open sign on the door to closed.

He goes through the routine that comes with working the last shift mindlessly - wiping down the tables and counters, pushing the chairs back into their neat places.

(He wonders how long you’ll be in Miyagi.)

The trash bag crinkles as he ties it up, dragging it behind him to the back door.

He’s only just hefted it into the dumpster specifically for un-recyclables when someone punches him in the face. Hard.

His glasses go flying, his annoyance skyrockets, and he barks, “What the hell?”

“I should be saying that!” His assaulter yells right back at him, “What the heck, Tsukishima?”

At the familiar voice, he stops, a retort on his tongue.

Tsukishima squints, and the person who’d punched him shifts, hair glowing orange in the flickering light of a half-dead streetlamp.

Ah, it’s the annoying, tiny boy.

“What do you want,” Tsukishima says as flatly as he can muster, even as his stomach sinks and he knows, he knows what Hinata is here to talk about. “Hinata.”

Hinata only grows more upset. Then he squares his shoulders and says, cold and unforgiving, “You didn’t tell Y/n.”

Tsukishima’s blood freezes in his veins. Suddenly, it’s the last set and the last point against Shiratorizawa, and the air is so thick and the eyes so cutting that he can’t move.

“You didn’t apologize.” Hinata steps forward till they’re chest-to-chest, and Tsukishima doesn’t need his glasses to know that Hinata’s eyes are accusatory and angry. “Y/n came back and you still didn’t apologize.”

I know, he thinks, I know I fucked up. Tsukishima isn’t dumb; even if Hinata hadn’t said it, he knows he should have gone after you last night.

(He should have gone after you two years ago.)

He thinks Hinata already knows what he’s feeling. It’s not a pleasant thought.

Tsukishima deals with this the only way he knows how, even as a voice that sounds like yours, small and heartbroken, says, don’t do it, not again.

“It’s not your business,” he snaps, tone disdainful enough to cover his regret, and it reminds him of your words; it sinks into his flesh like a knife cutting into pliant bread, it tugs him apart like a million tiny hooks, “don’t stick your nose into things you don’t understand.”

“I understand enough,” Hinata hisses right back, “to know that you hurt Y/n and that you never bothered to apologize.”

He pauses before going in for the kill. “And I know that you know that Y/n knows that it was complete bullshit. All you’ve managed to do is hurt the both of you.” Cocking his head slightly, he adds, the edge to his voice mostly gone, “And Tadashi-kun. All of us, really.”

Tsukishima opens his mouth to argue, but - he doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what he can say, because nothing Hinata has said is wrong.

It’s not surprising - Tsukishima has known all of this for a very long time. He’d been deliberately ignoring it in the hopes that it would gather dust and fade into some distant corner of his mind.

I’m just as much of a coward as I was two years ago, he thinks, and he still remembers the way your tears had caught the sun that terrible day in your bedroom, he remembers turning away so he didn’t have to look at the promise he’d broken.

Hinata sighs, and trudges in the direction Tsukishima’s glasses had flown in, bending to rummage about on the ground.

Tsukishima takes this brief moment of quiet to get his feelings under control before his body decides to do something uncooperative and ridiculous. Like leaking tears.

“Don’t break things you don’t intend to fix,” Hinata says into the silence as he hands Tsukishima his glasses. The barbed words he’d been trying to find die on his tongue. He slips his glasses on just to have something to do with his hands, and immediately wishes he’d just stayed half-blind instead.

Hinata’s eyes aren’t angry, or even disgusted. They’re disappointed, and that makes everything so much worse.

Tsukishima loses control of his body. He opens his mouth, closes it.

What could he even say? It’s not Hinata that he owes an apology to.

“Thanks,” he says instead. Hinata nods and smiles.

(“Y/n misses you,” Hinata says later, as they’re walking down the street. He offers no elaboration, but it’s enough.)

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“I’m sorry,” Tadashi says as the last whistle for your train blows and Tsukishima still isn’t here, “you know how Tsukki is on the weekends, he might have slept in-”

“Till four in the afternoon?” You raise a brow. Tadashi’s mouth snaps shut, his face stuttering, and you sigh. He shouldn’t be apologizing.

“It’s fine,” you say, as you step onto the train. You take your heart into your hands and rip it apart like a party favour.

Tadashi, and the rest of the Karasuno team, waves at you long after the doors have shut and the train departed.

You watch them through the window till they fade into shadows into specks into sky, and you know that you won’t be coming back for a long time.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

You’re only in Miyagi for the weekend.

It’s been nice, seeing everyone again. You’d even had dinner with the rest of the team.

(Tsukishima hadn’t been there.)

But the weekend has come to a close, and now it’s just you and Tadashi on the platform again. You experience a dizzying sense of deja vu.

“Will you visit again?” Your best friend asks, and you tear your gaze from the tracks to meet his eyes.

(You know what Tadashi is really asking.)

“Maybe,” you answer after a pause, “you’re my friend, after all. And I won’t put it past Hinata to get lost in Tokyo.”

Tadashi smiles in understanding.

You feel terrible. All you’ve been giving him is compromises.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally, glancing to the old vending machine on the opposite platform out of habit, “but I just-”

“He misses you,” Tadashi cuts in, “and I think he wants to apologize.”

His words take you aback. Then, “He wants to apologize,” you repeat, and it’s like you’re eighteen again, “but Tsukishima’s too proud for it, isn’t he?”

“Tsukki’s changed,” Tadashi mumbles, “maybe next time-”

“Y/n!” The both of you turn at the voice.

The breath rushes out of your lungs. A boy with hair like sunlight and eyes like gold coins catches his, bent over with his hands on his knees, a glowing figure in the middle of a dreary platform.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

For you, Tsukishima has always been synonymous with Miyagi.

Miyagi with the pork buns, with the school full of crows. The prefecture with the hills and the mountains, the small stores and marts run by ex-volleyball players.

Miyagi, your hometown, where the sky above and the grass below and the people beside you had witnessed you asking a boy for the second button of his gakuran at graduation. Your little safehouse of dreams dreamt of flight.

Tsukishima was the boy with the gakuran whose second button you had wanted. He’d been the boy with the glasses you’d hated on anyone else but him, the boy who had dreamt of the endless blue with his feet still on the ground.

He’s the boy you see in every empty, half-lit street at midnight, and behind every fading sign. The lamps in every lit house become his eyes, golden like the light of a possibly-dead star, and every window reflects the shine of his glasses. Like a haunting - a boy becomes a town becomes a memory.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

“What do you want?” You ask when it becomes clear that Tsukishima isn’t going to break the silence. “My train’s coming soon.”

(Tsukishima has always been Miyagi to you.

You don’t really want the train to come. Not when you’re finally about to get a goodbye two years overdue.)

“I’m sorry,” the boy with the glasses that you had liked, the boy with the gakuran whose second button you had held in your palm like he’d held your heart, says finally. “I was afraid.”

He doesn’t say what of. You already know, and for now, it’s enough that he’s here at all.

“You were too proud,” you tell him softly, “I was willing to be afraid together.”

This isn’t anything new either. Tsukishima isn’t dumb. He must have known.

“Did you regret it?” You ask as the train pulls into the station.

The boy who is Miyagi to you smiles. “I’m glad you got the scholarship.” His eyes are bright. His hair is a little longer, now.

You step forward as the last whistle blows in warning, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

You turn, getting onto the train with a backwards wave.

The doors close.

The boy who is pork buns and dimly lit streets holds up a hand even as he fades into the distance, joined by a shorter silhouette.

They get smaller and smaller until they’re shadows, then specks, then nothing but sky.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

For you, Miyagi has always been a boy.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been - there’s Tadashi, after all, and your senpais.

You tear your safehouse down brick by brick. You hand one to everyone you’ve ever talked to in Miyagi, to everyone you’ve ever loved.

Tsukishima is joined by Tadashi, and the homeroom teacher who’d confiscated most of the balled-up notes passed between the three of you in class. You add Hinata, Tanaka, Nishinoya, Sugawara; you build a volleyball court and see crows in the sky.

Miyagi is Tsukishima is Karasuno is volleyballs is the sting of skinned knees on dimly-lit streets.

(Tsukishima’s contact is still saved in your phone. You had never been able to bring yourself to delete it.

You think about your next holiday break. You think about the extra shifts at your part-time job you’ll have to take in order to afford the train tickets.)

You miss Miyagi. You’re relieved that you’re allowed to admit to yourself that you miss Miyagi, now.

»»------------- ------------- ------------- ¤ ------------- ------------- -------------««

as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated!! :D

#haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyuucreations #tsukishima kei #haikyuu!!#kyouka writes #see it all in bloom

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ireadingbooks · 3 years

Text

Books I Read In May

The Goal by Elle Kennedy. as the fourth book in the off-campus series, this novel follows tucker & sabrina after they had a meaningless one-night stand. just like the other parts in this series, elle kennedy has an amazing way of establishing characters and relationships. even though a pregnancy-trope isn't what I usually go for, this was incredible! What a way to end the off-campus series.

Call It What You Want by Brigid Kemmerer. rob & megan are both unpopular - but for very different reasons. when meg and rob get paired up for a calculus project, they have an instant connection and have to fight to keep up the walls they've built around them. this was a re-read while I was waiting for a book delivery and I loved it just as much as the first time around. brigid kemmerer just has a way of creating incredible characters and even though this was ya fiction, the characters had a depth to them that you usually find in contemporary fiction.

Ariadne by Jennifer Saint. this is a greek mythology retelling of the story of ariadne, the princess of crete, who is torn between betraying her family or saving her love's life. while I enjoyed reading this book, there was something lacking for me. with the other greek mythology retellings I've read, I felt a deeper emotional connection with the characters, whereas in this one, it felt a bit too shallow for me. still beautifully written!

Everything I Never Told You by Celeste Ng. when lydia, the favourite child of the lee family, is found dead, her family struggles to keep up their perfect image to the outside; all while trying to find out what happened to lydia. this book, just as 'little fires everywhere', blew me away. the writing in this is impeccable. the way celeste ng builds up and constructs family dynamics is amazing and makes you appreciate the writing in this even more. a wonderful novel.

Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid. this book left me speechless after I finished it. it follows the rise and fall of the rock band 'daisy jones & the six' in the 70s and is written in an interview-style way, which gives you insights into all the characters feelings much quicker than a standard novel does. It was so clever, so emotional and just so FUN!! I highly recommend and cannot wait for the tv adaption that amazon prime is producing. definitely a favourite of this year!

Normal People by Sally Rooney. the story follows connel and marianne's unusual but magical connection through high school and college, where life constantly brings them back together & tears them apart again. it's been a long time since I've felt so conflicted about a novel. while reading this, I thought the story had so much potential that didn't spark in the book. many scenes felt a bit too shallow at points, where the show (which i started watching simultaneously) really conveyed the emotions I felt were lacking in the novel. I think this might be the only book where I prefer the show over the book. however, the characters grew extremely close to my heart and I thought the idea behind this was brilliant. this is definitely worth your time, as a novel or as the show!

Such A Fun Age by Kiley Reid. when 26-year old emira gets accused of kidnapping the girl she babysits, her employer alix and emira go on a crash course that flips their worlds on its head. while I struggled to get into the story at first, the more I read the more I loved it! however, I was a bit disappointed by the way the story ended and the characters were painted as plain, one-dimensional villain and hero in the end. because they seemed like such complex characters throughout the whole story, the ending didn’t really match that in my opinion.

Much Ado About You by Samantha Young. after being stood up at both a date and her work, evie decides to take a vacation managing a bookshop in england for a month, but while she is there, she meets handsome bachelor roane and is torn between staying and leaving to resume her life in chicago. while the story was super cute, that’s all there was to it in my opinion... I usually love samantha young’s books but this wasn’t my favourite.

Shipped by Angie Hockman. graeme and henley, two co-workers, are up for a promotion and are sent on a cruise their company offers to polish the marketing offers. I liked the setting in a tropical place and the talk about sustainability, but the actual romance in this book didn't really catch me. I think it had a lot to do with the fact that it extremely reminded me of 'the hating game' (enemies to lovers, co-workers etc...) and I couldn't meet the story without any prejudices.

School Reads:

Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. it was okay, but I am not a big fan of modernism, so that is probably why I didn't like it too much.

Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman. a great insight into our brain focuses and thinks. I enjoyed it!

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nervousladytraveler · 3 years

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Anonymous Said: Showing affections Prompt #44--Tummy Kisses

(from the Like Someone universe)

“Sit still,” Demelza ordered and put an ice pack to Ross’s eye. He winced from the cold but knew better than to argue. She’d been eerily calm this whole time, from the moment he showed up on their doorstep, his nose bloodied, his shirt torn, his right eye swollen. She still appeared calm, but moved about the bedroom with an urgency of mission.

Her light fingers unbuttoned his shirt and examined his bruised side. Even though her brow furrowed and her lips were pulled tight, her face was inscrutable. She was standing next to him, tending to his needs, yet she was far away.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled but gasped when touched.

“Is that so? You don’t look fine and you certainly don’t sound fine,” she huffed. Was that impatience and anger?

“Do you think you should see a doctor?” she asked. Now her tone seemed to betray worry.

“No!”

“Ross, what if your ribs are broken?” She took the ice pack from his eye and gently put it to his ribs.

“They’re not broken,” he managed to hiss between throbs of pain.

“And how would you know that?” she laughed. He was glad to see the change in her expression, even if it meant she thought him a complete idiot.

“I’ve broken a rib before,” he explained. “This doesn’t feel like that.”

He took a deep breath to show her, then covered her hand with his, hoping he could reach her. It seemed to work for when she next spoke, she couldn’t disguise the tenderness in her voice.

“Oh? In the army?” she asked cautiously. He never spoke of his experience in Cyprus just like she never talked about her childhood.

“No, I fell off a horse when I was sixteen.” It was a painful memory and thinking about it wasn’t helping him feel better now.

“Were you pissed or just showin’ off?”

“Both, as I recall.” He gave a weak smile, fairly certain a laugh would hurt too much.

Ross took the ice from her and moved it back to his eye, then considered putting it to his puffy lip. He hadn’t looked in the mirror but expected he was a ghastly sight. He still held his right hand aloft, as if the scraped knuckles were his biggest injury.

“Do you think George will file a complaint?” she asked.

Taking his cue, she took his hand in hers to examine it. When she dabbed the split skin with cotton wool soaked in surgical spirit, it stung horribly. Surely she knew that it would. Could it be that she enjoyed watching him flinch? She was rapidly cycling between moods again.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “But I doubt it. He might find it humiliating to admit he was…”

“Beat up? That is, can I assume it wasn’t Warleggan that threw the first punch?”

“You can--and you’d be correct.”

“And you still won’t tell me what George said that made you so enraged?” She held his chin and looked into his eyes for one agonizing moment, then perhaps sensing his discomfort, released him.

“No, no I won’t.” Ross was firm on that score. It was better she never know. George’s insult would be something she couldn't unhear or easily forget.

“You are so fuckin’ stubborn,” she mumbled and stepped back to give him another head to toe appraisal.

Trickles of blood from his nose had stained the front of her hoodie. He hated seeing that on her, hated himself for bringing that into their home.

“Of course George wouldn’t actually hit another grown man unless egged on.” She laughed but Ross thought he heard a note of tired resignation. “If he wanted to hurt someone or even ruin them, he’d use his snarky attitude or his money, not his fists. Seems like maybe he’s a wiser man.”

“Than me?” Ross sputtered. She couldn’t mean it.

“I don’t understand, Ross!” She ignored his question and plopped down on the bed next to him. Yes, it was tired resignation. “Why is George Warleggan such a menace to you all of a sudden?”

“It’s hardly sudden. He’s been after Carnmore for years, and now? Now, his shadow lurks over the Trenwith Poldarks too. He’s interfering with my family…”

“I thought we were your family. Us--here at Nampara?” she interrupted.

“Demelza,” he exhaled, frustrated that he couldn’t find the right words. “Of course, you are my family...”

“Yet it was a threat from George to Elizabeth that provoked you…” she began.

“Demelza…” he sighed.

Again she ignored him and after a quick eye roll, continued. “Sorry, a threat to Elizabeth and Uncle Charles made you hit him?”

“No, that wasn’t it.” It hurt to shake his head.

“Whatever. Okay Ross, take your shirt off entirely,” she ordered and rose to her feet again. “Trousers too.”

“What are you doing?” he asked. Without thinking he obeyed her command and began the valiant struggle to free himself from his clothes. It took longer than he expected and he was grateful when she removed his trousers for him so he didn't have to bend over.

“We need photos of your injuries. In case George does pursue charges, we’ll have a record of the damage he did to you.” She’d pulled her mobile from her pocket and began taking pictures of his nose, his mouth. She tilted his head to get a better angle of his eye, then she gave him a soft kiss on his temple.

She had no idea how much he needed that--or maybe she did.

“Okay, now your hand. Consider it evidence,” she went on.

“Evidence that I hit him,” Ross said, then taking a chance, he held his hand up and flashed his more imploring eyes. She took the bait and gave his knuckles a kiss.

“Now for your side, I need more light. Can you stand? Or maybe lie down? No, sit up but just turn this way…”

“Ugh!” he groaned, unable to hide the difficulty in even a slight twist of his torso.

“Ross! Fucking hell! If it hurts that much to turn...”

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

Without touching him, she took a few snaps of his ribs, then sat down again. This time it sounded like a sigh and whimper collected in her throat.

“Ross,” she said, her head slipped into her hands.

He rubbed her back, aware that he was now soothing her. He’d prefer to take her in his arms but doubted he had the mobility to pull that off.

“Demelza? I know you’re angry at me…” he began.

“No, Ross. It isn’t that simple.”

“You think that I'm not listening to you…”

Intrigued, she looked up and raised one brow. She was clearly listening.

“I am--I mean, I do listen,” he said.

She put her hand on his thigh. It felt good, mostly because he welcomed her touch but also because his legs were among the only parts of his body not throbbing in pain.

“Yes, Ross,” she said softly.

His heart sank. It wasn't what she said, but what she didn’t say.

Of course.

She’d grown up in a household of unpredictable anger and physical brutality--a world she took great pains to leave behind when she came to Nampara. For Ross to cavalierly and unapologetically engage in that very same behavior, was not just a disappointment, but a betrayal of her trust. She had to know the man she loved wouldn’t ever bring violence into her life--even if he was capable of it.

He had to show her.

“Demelza, I’m sorry,” he said.

“I know,” she whispered.

“And I won’t ever again...”

“Don't make promises Ross. Just try your best,” she said softly. “And just know that I can’t stand to see you hurt.”

“I’ll remember that,” he said and squeezed her hand.

“And George Warleggan certainly isn’t worth all this,” she snorted.

“No, he’s not,” he agreed then felt the need for some levity. “I’ll choose better enemies in future.”

“Oh?” It worked. She was amused.

“Like...an angry bear. What if I promise to only resort to violence again if I need to defend you from a bear?”

“Bears have been extinct on this isle for 1500 years,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Wolves?”

“No wolves--gone since the 16th century.” She smiled at yet another factual triumph.

“I’m always impressed with how much you know,” he laughed. “You really did pay attention in school, didn't you? Okay...only if I need to defend you from a madman…”

“Close, but still not quite good enough. It would have to be a madman with a knife,” she suggested. “Or of course a madwoman--with a knife.”

“That sounds fair,” he nodded and took her hand again, tracing her fingers with his thumb.

“Ross, love, lie down and I’ll get you some more ice.”

“I don't want ice. Just your kisses.” He suppressed a groan as he managed to stretch out on the bed.

“Oh?“ she laughed. “Kisses won’t bring down the swellin’ or ease the pain.”

“Yes, they most certainly will ease it. They’ll give me pleasure.” He pulled her down level with him.

“But I might hurt you!’ she cried and began to pull away.

“No you won’t. I’ll show you. Start here.” He pointed to a spot on the side that had managed to escape injury from left-handed George.

“Yes, Ross,” She gingerly kissed his external oblique then pulled away with a giggle.

“Now here.” A little lower. This time she lingered a little longer.

“And here…” Ross knew those lips and what they were capable of. He closed his eyes and struggled to let himself go.

Her open mouth on his skin moved him but he tried not to react too much to the exhilaration. Even small movements brought agony. Her hands were no longer tentative, and with inspired strokes, she traced along the noticeable groove his ligaments made connecting his middle to his groin.

Without waiting for his directive, she moved a few inches inward along his waistline and gave another kiss.

“Now my tummy.”

“Tummy?” She looked up at him, eyes bright, teeth gleaming in an uncontrollable smile.

He’d never used that word with her before to describe his abdomen. She seemed to see he was aiming for a laugh and was willing to play along.

She kissed his navel, careful to stay on the unbruised side of his body.

“Yes, tummy.” He pointed to the shadowy region that crept up from the top of his boxers.

“Um Ross? That’s not your tummy.”

#poldark fanfic #Poldark modern au #ask nervousladytraveler #kiss prompts #Like Someone Who Would Know Her Own Mind #lucretiassister #ross poldark #demelza carne

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timextoxhajima · 4 years

Text

GEN Z SERIES, HYUNJAE: The Third Eye

"Will you choose to believe what you see or what you feel?”

Member: Hyunjae

Genre: Fantasy / Slice of Life / Supernatural / Angst / TW

Trigger Warnings: Rape, Self-Harm

Word Count: 5.8k

Taglist: @yn-am-pm @fleurseoul @sunwoowuvbot

The first time I knew I saw something that wasn't there, I was scared. How was an eight-year-old supposed to treat an elderly man who looked closer to a skeleton than a human being standing in the corner of the room... of an elderly's home?

I remember my mother combing my grandmother's hair while my father was helping me pick up my crayons off the floor when I saw him. Nurses were walking down the corridors in a hurry. I remember nobody noticed -- or at least, unlike the conventional way of death that has been portrayed in movies and books by the very cliché usage of the flatlining on the monitor. He had a good amount of hair for an old man in his nineties.

Then again, it might've been his deteriorating health that made him look older than he actually was when he died. Time seemed to pass a lot slower when they let me see them. Unlike the way his skin seemed to sink in between his ribs and wrap around the bones of his arms, his eyes were full of light. The kind that I recognised when I was at school. I didn't know then, because I was just a child he realised could see his soul. But I will never forget the blessing he placed on the top of my head. Every single word etched into my mind like carved into stone.

I told my grandmother about the man I saw earlier that day when my parents went to talk to the nurses of the elderly home. She was scared at first, when she realised her grandchild had abilities that not many had. Yet, she never told my parents, because she knew they would convince themselves that they could do something about it -- as if one could really remove the powers of a third eye all so easily.

Angels are not beings with wings or halos but instead, a bright orb of gold and white. The old man waved so dearly to me, after giving his children and grandchildren a kiss atop their heads though they couldn't feel it. He was 88, auspicious numbers in many cultures. Then when the orb of light drifted in through the window, I remember I could almost hear the sounds of kittens and puppies. But just as it neared him, I heard the familiar sounds of laughter from his children and grandchildren, then static sounds of radio and music I didn't recognise. I will later find out that the music belonged in the 40s.

The orb presents you with everything you've loved and enjoyed and held close to your heart in your life, and should you be content with what the orb has to offer you, then it must be time for you to go.

But where there is light, there is darkness. Where there are orbs of smiles and flowers, there are daggers of blood and evil lurking in the shadows. I was 13 when I saw evil in one of its many forms. I had a headache the entire day, a sign to tell me that my third eye is in close proximity with something that did not align with my believes and morals.

I had expected something to jump out at me through the reflection off the mirror, or a hand to burst through the ground and grab me by the ankle. But no, evil in one of its many forms does not need it to be horrifying and scary.

Her hair was long, and her face was covered in what looked like burn marks.

Does Hell burn through you so quickly?

She looks human, but her fingers were split down the middle, thorns sticking out every finger, in which on each hand she has ten.

As she graced the corridors of school, she sheds these thorns that drop like nails to the floor, waiting for someone to step on those facing upwards. Have you ever gotten a sharp ache or pinch in the soles of your feet when you're walking sometimes?

If you have, then you would've probably stepped on a Hell's Thorn, or at least, that's what I called it. I never found out if she could see me, but when I realised I could touch the thorns and kick them out of sight, they'd roll off into some corner before dissolving into red ash.

Over a decade of being stuck between two worlds. I've done enough reading to understand the dangers of prancing along this line, not being able to shut one side off completely. So, when the ghosts, demons and spirits hide in the shadows of my room, or stare at me point-blank in the middle of the day like a normal human being would, it becomes normal.

They are everywhere, even when you cannot feel them. It gets confusing, when they look more human than some human beings.

Just how much longer... or how much more can I stay like this?

"I don't know where your diary is. If you're telling me it's here, then I'm telling you it's gone."

You are standing right smack in the middle of the school field, afternoon sun beaming down onto your hair. Squinting your eyes, you look around the large space of artificial grass and beyond that, the tracks, where students were finding some fun in running laps in the summer heat.

"But..."

"Lee Eun," Your heart breaks, more than necessary, because this is not the first time you've done it. "What you're looking for isn't here. The building your locker was in was torn down 20 years ago and if it was there, it's gone now. Or at least..." She watches you turn around and stare at the ground beneath your feet. "It's not here anymore."

Lee Eun was a student from your school that graduated in 2000. But she lost her life the day she graduated, only because she hadn't seen the brick falling from the nearby construction site where the school building you attended now was being built.

The silence becomes unbearable so you look up, but you only see the two male students jogging along the track and nobody else in sight. The orb did not come to collect Lee Eun's soul; this is not over.

The sweat has stuck your uniform to your back when you return to class, and it becomes apparent to you that a particular shadow has not shifted an inch since you've stepped into the classroom. You weren't in pain, so this entity is not a demon. Yet, you cannot identify its gender. It had no face, no hair, just... a volume of shadow and darkness and if the girls sitting before it knew it was there, they'd probably scream their head off.

You know its staring at you with every intention in its spirit, though you cannot see its eyes. And it stays when the teacher enters the classroom with a new student trailing behind him. For a moment, your attention is diverted to Jang Jun Hyuk, hair brown and skin fair. The girls in the class were already ogling over him, it's not a surprise anymore. But the shadow turns to look at him, then at you, and the darkness dissolves into the beige wall behind it, vanishing as Jang Jun Hyuk bows and introduces himself.

Then the king of the class speaks at a volume you know you weren't supposed to hear, but consider it a special talent now that you've honed the skills of your third eye.

"Strange vibes," Lee Hyunjae was probably talking to Younghoon. "Don't you think there's something off about him?"

"Are you sure you're not just threatened that there's someone who rivals our popularity?"

Jang Jun Hyuk bows to the class, then is instructed by the teacher to take a seat diagonally behind you, right in front of Lee Hyunjae.

"Hey, new kid."

A frown gently presses itself into your forehead when you can hear Younghoon give Hyunjae a gentle whack on his shoulder.

"Where did you move from?"

"Ah, I moved from another city. My father was transferred."

The shadow was now standing by the door of the classroom, watching the teacher scribble on the whiteboard.

"Cool," Hyunjae offers a friendly laugh. That's more like him. "Join us at lunch, provided you don't have a crowd to hang out with yet."

“Uh, sure.”

The shadow turns to look at you -- even without eyes, you know it’s watching you.

By the time you have been dragged to the cafeteria by your friends (though most people tend to think you’re weird for talking to yourself sometimes), Hyunjae has doubled over on some bench cracking up at a joke Jun Hyuk made.

Your friends can’t help but to draw your attention to the new addition to the group of popular males.

“Man fits right in, doesn’t he?”

“At least he looks like one of them.”

“y/n,” One of the two call out to you. “What happened to... what was her name?”

“Lee Eun.”

“Right, the ghost from twenty years ago. How is she?”

The two look at you with wide, glistening eyes. Most people aren’t as accommodating to your abilities, so it’s a blessing to have them by your side.

“I haven’t seen her since earlier today. She said she had a diary in school but she never found it.”

“Well, maybe it is still in school somewhere, locked up in some lost and found box or lost in some locker. Why else would she still be here and can’t... you know, move on?”

You shrug. I wish I knew.

The library was always comforting. The silence, the sound of pages being flipped and the occasional clicking of someone’s keyboard. And strangely enough, the library’s never really a hotspot for other beings except humans.

The peace was, unfortunately, disrupted though, when Jun Hyuk shows up with his backpack and tie neat around his collar. You greet him subtly before returning to your notes, but he sits down opposite you and renders your desire to be alone useless.

“Hyunjae and Younghoon told me you would be here.”

The pen in your grip gets lowered into the ivory sheets, gaze travelling up to look at him through your lashes. “Lee Hyunjae and Kim Younghoon? Why would they tell you where I am?”

Jun Hyuk offers a shy smile, diverting his brown irises away from you for a second. “Because I asked.”

The cold air stings your nose when you suck in a deep breath. “Why, do you need help with work? Because I’m literally the worst person to ask--”

“No, I just needed to know where I could find you so I could spend time with you.”

Your heart begins to thump madly, because it’s not everyday that a guy is so straightforward with his intentions to someone he just met.

“Uh--” You purse your lips in a bid to form a coherent sentence. “That’s really... honest of you.”

Jun Hyuk grins sweetly, eyes halving into crescents and creasing his skin around his lids. He has a dimple in his left cheek, a detail that you wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t sitting directly opposite you.

“So, can I?”

Confusion strikes you, only because assumption is a dangerous thing we like to do.

“Can you... what?”

“Hang out with you.”

The whir of the air-conditioner in the library becomes a little louder alongside the thumping that was now difficult to ignore in your head.

The blood rushes up to your cheeks and you can feel your face catching fire, so Jun Hyuk eases it by restarting a conversation.

“Anyway, have you done the work from today?”

“I--” You look down at the worksheet he was taking out from his bag. It’s barely filled. “I’ve been staring at it for awhile now--”

“Not good at Math?”

“I’m better at...” Jun Hyuk takes the worksheet and gets up, scooting over to the seat next to you. A gulp finds a way down your throat. “...English and Literature...”

“Well, it’s your lucky day because I’m great at Math.”

Up close, Jin Hyuk smells like fresh linen.

Not a great sign. He knows what makes a girl tick.

Jun Hyuk spends the rest of the afternoon helping you with the worksheet, and the glimmer in his eyes...

“Are you listening?”

Your jaw slacks in surprise, blinking your attention away from staring at him. A chuckle sounds from Jun Hyuk, who looks away with the slightest hint of pride.

Jun Hyuk makes you feel like you are prancing on clouds for the next few weeks. The little notes he passed in class that earned the attention of his new friends, Younghoon and Hyunjae. The sweets and treats that he’d leave on your desk before school and the after-school study sessions were your favourite part of the day.

He’d expected you to be calm and collected when he took the initiative to hold your hand under the table, but he could read how nervous and anxious you got, so he thinks it’s a good idea to ease that anxiety with a kiss on your cheek.

Lee Eun was no longer around to ask you for her diary, but the faceless shadow was still tailing you when you were in the classroom. It’s never interfered with your daily routine though, thus you choose to leave it be and enjoy being a normal teenager for once.

Three months after you met Jun Hyuk though, you could tell Hyunjae was deliberately steering away from him, dragging Younghoon along with him. You can’t help but wonder if it was because you and Jun Hyuk were now romantically involved and that Hyunjae had probably caught wind of the fact that you could see things that weren’t there, leading him to ostracise Jun Hyuk.

Not that it had that much effect anyway, Jun Hyuk was a charming boy on his own; he didn’t need Hyunjae’s help to ‘make it’ in school.

The day carries on as per usual with Jun Hyuk staying in school to study with you. Hands busy scribbling away and eyes darting across worksheets, you’ve always admired how focussed he gets when he does his work.

In attempt to pull him out of his stress-bubble, you cap on your pen and lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder after making sure there was nobody else left in the library.

“Do you want to take a break? You’ve been going at it for quite some time now.”

“I’m just about there, just hold on a minute, would you?”

A pout surfaces on your lips. “I know. I just... do you ever feel bad that Hyunjae and Younghoon aren’t as close to you as before?”

Jun Hyuk finishes the line he’s writing and looks up at you. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know, I just... you must’ve heard the rumor that I can see ghosts. Aren’t you upset that they might be leaving you out because of that?”

“You can see ghosts?” He scoffs. His attitude feels strange today, though he hasn’t said anything wrong. “That’s just stupid. And no, I don’t really care.”

“Oh,” A pause halts you, so you can think of an appropriate response. “You don’t... believe in ghosts or spirits?”

“No, that stuff is for kids.”

The thought of Jun Hyuk not believing in something you were known to be able to see was strangely more discomforting than not.

“Why’d you ask about Hyunjae and Younghoon? I thought you weren’t close with those guys?” He’s placing his pens into his pencil case and keeping his worksheets in his file. You start doing the same.

“I-- I’m not, I’m just asking for your sake.”

“My sake?” He clears the table of his items and leans back in his seat. “Why would it bother me? Is it because you don’t get to talk to them anymore?”

“What? Why would that matter to me?”

“I don’t know, you were pretty smitten with Hyunjae just a few weeks ago.”

“Since when?”

“You think I didn’t notice when you were smiling at him when he was making those jokes-- they weren’t even that funny?”

A frown has finally cemented itself between your brows. “I’m sorry, where is this jealousy even coming from? Why didn’t you just tell me when you saw it?”

Jun Hyuk goes silent, and you can tell he’s upset just by thinking about it. Sighing, you rest your head on his shoulder again in a bid to appease his anger.

“Alright, I’m sorry, okay? I was just concerned that you might feel left out or anything. And rest assured, I wasn’t flirting with Hyunjae.”

Jun Hyuk hums in response, reaching your chin to pull you closer. Your heart starts to pound in your ear when he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours, the sudden intimacy catching you off-guard and sending chills down your spine.

Something doesn’t feel right.

“Jun--” You manage to cough out, just as he starts to bury his nose and lips into your neck. “Jun Hyuk, not here.”

“Come on, there’s nobody here. Isn’t it exciting?” He smirks into your skin but it makes you feel dirty.

“Jun, we really shouldn’t. I’m tired today so...” Gently pushing him off, his eyes are now filled with the ache of rejection. Somewhere inside you, you hope that he understands. But you also hope he knows he’s being an asshole.

“I... I think I’m going to go,” Backing away, you can hear your heart in your ears as you reverse, returning to the table to clear your stationery. His footsteps come dangerously close behind you before you are yanked around violently, each of your elbows coming into tight restraint in his palms.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going home,” When your eyes meet his, they are dark under the lighting. And even then, it seems like the man you trusted had turned to dust and blown away in the wind. “Please, let me go.”

“But don’t you trust me? Didn’t you say that you didn’t know what you’d do without me?” It’s horrifying when his nose comes dangerously closely to yours, his lips that were once part of a daydream now slowly being torn to shreds, forming an idea of a nightmare in your mind.

If you could feel darkness, you were sure you could hurl out nothing but black masses, when he aggressively pastes his lips to yours. There’s a stark difference being in love and being trustworthy... and being this person who was cutting off the blood supply from your face to your mouth now.

“Let me go, please!” Your strength is rendered useless in his tight grip around your wrists, and now he decides to shift his tongue to your neck, harshly sucking on the skin and flesh and making you want to hurl and sob instead. The struggle you offered was of no use to Jun Hyuk, not when he is able to shove you backwards and plaster your back to the study desk with all your pens and pencils under your back.

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?!”

“You should’ve thought about that before you kissed me first in the garden the other day, no?”

The tears finally stream when the betrayal sets in. Not even prayers would work anymore, would they?

Using his upper body weight to hold you to the table, the metal clinking of his belt comes like a warning when you can feel the tears wetting the strands of your hair.

“Jun Hyuk, please...”

“Shut up,” Ice cold fingers run up the length of your thighs and around your hips under your skirt, scratching your skin as he removes your underwear. “Isn’t this how much you trust me?”

Sobs run through gritted teeth as your chin tilts to the ceiling, his body absorbing every ounce of struggle and force you were exerting on him. But, it was so easily drained into him that you were gradually turning limp and lifeless. Hearing him undo his zipper while he wets and marks your skin with his tongue and teeth shuts off all your senses. Your eyes flutter shut with resignation, the shivering and trembling seeping away with your need to escape.

Help me.

Something fuses loudly. The lights go off.

“Who’s there?! Motherfucker!”

The zip goes back up, and the weight on you shifts away.

“I’m going to kill you!”

His voice wears away, getting softer with his footsteps.

Still crying, you pull up your underwear that was dangling at your ankles and push yourself off the surface of the table. Everything on the desk gets swept into your back before you stumble out of the secluded study area, the light of the late sunset greeting your tear stained face.

Reaching home feels like reaching the end point in a marathon, just that instead of feeling pride and glory, you were feeling nothing but worthlessness.

The lukewarm water feels like a gentle hug around your body when you sink into the cold marble, knees propped up and surfaced with your feet flat against the base of the bathtub.

Swollen eyes from crying but too tired to cry somemore, and you find difficulty in even remembering why you even fell for Jun Hyuk in the first place.

It was my fault for bringing it up. I shouldn’t have brought it up.

Maybe if I didn’t have this gift then I didn’t need to ask or worry about Jun Hyuk being ostracised. Maybe it shouldn’t be called a gift after all.

This pain is temporary, right? This small blade can do more than ease the pain. This blood that colors the water can do more than dry the tears from my eyes.

I wish I wasn’t born with this gift.

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the tub, under the surface of the water. The water starts to feel thicker, and before you can count to five, it starts going up your nose.

But then it feels like you’ve been sucked into another dimension and thrown back onto your bed when you gasp, sitting up and choking out what feels like water in your throat.

Your hands fumble around yourself, and you wince when you look down at your wrists. The vertical cut looked more like a scar that’s already healed, rather than an injury you had chosen to inflict on yourself just hours before.

The clock strikes 3.33am, and while you would usually be kind of freaked out because 3 is not an auspicious number, you can’t help but to feel some kind of relief when you realised you were still alive.

The next few days you spend in the shadows. Jun Hyuk tries to apologise to you on more than one occasion, but when you glitch and nearly break down when he gets anywhere near you, your friends start to understand that something had happened.

Why would you want to take your life all of a sudden?

Mr. Shadowman doesn’t leave you alone though. Instead, it starts following you more aggressively, showing up in the strangest of places and in the most horrendous positions. You had seen it standing with its feet planted to the ceiling of the cafeteria, then again standing perfectly still behind the classroom door when the teacher closed it.

Then it finally follows you into the bathroom after school. You’ve changed your studying location to your classroom, so you wouldn’t need to worry about being alone.

But no matter how many times you see this shadow, seeing it curled up under the sink in the female’s toilet makes you yelp and jump backwards, not even enticing a reaction from it.

“You...” Gripping the edge of the sink, you squat and stare at it. “What do you need from me?”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere nearer to it if I were you.” Your eyes dart up into the broken glass above the sink. Seeing Hyunjae staring at you through the reflection, with the pillar hiding the rest of his body was surprising.

It dawns on you that whatever you were seeing, Hyunjae could see it too.

The shadow remained still under the sink, crouched into a mass like someone holding its knees to its chest. The water dripping from under the sink slips through the mass like it wasn’t there. Hyunjae spares you a few seconds to stare at it some more until he grabs your arm and pulls you out of the toilet.

“What the-- don’t touch me--” Yanking your wrist out of his hands, you jerk away from him. The impact pulls your sleeves upwards, revealing the bruises that Jun Hyuk had left on you just a few days ago -- and the scar of the cut down your forearm.

His attention is stolen by the marks, cuing you to nervously pull your sleeves back down as you steal a glance at Hyunjae’s face.

“Don’t interact with that thing,” He advises after a few moments of silence. “It’s been following you.”

Looking up with a harsh frown on your face, confusion and anger starts to seep through your bones.

“You mean to tell me you could see these things all this while?”

Hyunjae’s eyes fill with a tiny pinch of guilt, but he doesn’t look away.

“That thing is harmless,” Your thumb brushes across the area where the bruise was hidden under the material of your sleeve. “It saved me.”

“If it’s harmless or any bit human then why doesn’t it have a face? Or eyes or hair or a mouth?”

“So, you can’t see what it is either. Have you seen others? Ghosts, the angel orbs, demons--”

“Get this clear in your head, I am not here to discuss what you can see,” Hyunjae takes a step closer and looks at you with an expression you can’t read. Was he angry? Frustrated? Worried? Concerned?

“But do not engage with whatever that is. They only stick around if you entertain it, and right now, you are just short of becoming friends with it.”

“You make it sound like you know everything about that other world.”

“And you make it sound like you haven’t seen a demon and that there are no dangers of it.”

The proximity starts to make you anxious; his build is similar to Jun Hyuk’s and the physical confrontation starts to knock on your skull is all the ways possible. Hyunjae retreats when he notices your eyes are unable to meet his now, and he walks away with his fists clenched.

That night, you are unable to fall asleep. Not with the new revelation that Hyunjae can see the same things you do. Or was it just the shadow that he can see?

Has he seen the orbs or angels or demons?

You sit up in your bed, eyes adjusting to the darkness when a thud wakes you up. The crickets outside are loud in the silent night, but it takes you just a split second to recognise the shadow standing in the corner where the door meets the corner of the room.

Keeping your eyes peeled, you fumble around at your nightstand, searching for the button of the lamp. It doesn’t disappear though, when the amber light illuminates the cream-pink room.

“What do you need?” The query comes out more like a whisper, because most spirits you meet are ghosts who need your help or are willing to talk to you -- most of them have faces and eyes and have some resemblance to being human at some point of time in their life.

The shadow pulls itself off the wall, and turns from a flat, regular shadow into a mass of darkness; the same way it was in the classroom when you first saw it, then later under the sink in the bathroom.

This is the first time this has happened -- a shadow that was very obviously a being and yet you cannot decide if it was something harmful or something that once walked the Earth.

By now, the shadow is just about two metres away from your bed, yet you find yourself inching backwards because you cannot predict what it would (or could) do to you.

Then it lifts an arm that reaches out to you, darkness flowing like steam off its limbs as it gets closer to you. But just before it can touch you, a flash of brightness interrupts your interaction.

“Stop.”

Your room is brightly lit up for a split second, blinding you from seeing the shadow. So when your eyes come back into focus, your eyes are about to fall out of your skull when you recognise the back of someone you know.

Hyunjae was standing right next to your bed, between you and the shadow, now visibly a physical blob of darkness.

“You have no business here with her. You don’t even need to be here.”

Silence.

Hyunjae looks at the shadow intently. He is listening to it talk to him, but you hear nothing but the crickets chirping outside.

“Jang Jun Hyuk will be mine to deal with, not yours. You do not need to be here.”

Lee Hyunjae... just what are you?

“Seer but is she a...”

“What did you just say?” You blurt out when the strange croak gets to your head. Hyunjae flinches and turns around to look at you, eyes flickering with worry before turning back to the shadow.

Now, you can see blue orbs for eyes and skin pulled and stretched like it had been worn out through hundreds of years. It was neither a ghost nor human.

It didn’t look like Lee Eun or the elderly man you saw when you were 8, nor did it look like the female demon you saw at 13.

“Leave, you do not belong here.”

“To deserves she know.”

“Know what?” Impatience and fear was getting the better of you, and if Hyunjae was more than human, he would know. “...That I can see you?”

“No, she cannot know!” Hyunjae tries to block you from the ghoul. “That is not your place to tell her!”

The ghoul proves more powerful than Hyunjae and reaches right through him, creating a bright outline of his limb through Hyunjae’s chest.

“No!”

That was the last thing you hear just as the shadow touches your forehead, snapping your neck backwards and sending your memory into a dimension you cannot recognise.

“You will be blessed with eternal protection.”

That was the blessing the elderly man offered you when you were eight. Little did you know that he was merely reading a blessing pinned to your existence on its own.

"The son of Saint Michael had fallen in love with the fairy of the mortals. Saint Michael hadn’t offered the tiniest bit of worry or concern over his son becoming star-crossed lovers. Angels were meant to be with angels and fairies with fairies... Granted that even if you did know about his son’s feelings, you would eventually realise that it was against the laws of the world, for you were a gateway for the Good to seep into the mortal world. But what Saint Michael did not know was that the fairy his son had fallen in love with had stored the same amount of love he had for her in his heart.”

“The Heavens forbid star-crossed lovers between the two breeds of beings. Saint Michael himself couldn’t believe it when his son caved into his feelings right after you did. Fairies were fickle-minded; the only beings of the world of immortals that once walked the Earth as human beings. It was expected that you would provide the same love to the Archangel’s son -- but when he decided to embrace you in his all-gold halo of light... Saint Michael knew he could not afford losing the bearings of his son. He had decided that mortalising you would be a smart decision; keeping you close by letting you protect your ability to connect with this world but restraining you from ever returning to Hyunjae’s side.”

“Yet, like mortals, even immortal beings are unable to fight the strength of love. Hyunjae had decided descend to the world of the Humans and Mortals... to protect you by your side in your second life, allowing you to see him, touch him.”

The day you were reborn was the day Hyunjae had decided to humanise himself, albeit the process was draining and set him on a ticking clock from returning to the other world.

The ghoul looks at you, his blue eyes now revealing himself as a fairy who had disguised himself, in a bid to warn you before you had sold your heart to Hyunjae, something you cannot be with.

“You are paying the price for a fault that was his, do you not bear any resentment?”

The memories return. Flashes of Hyunjae smiling at you because he knew you could see him. The kisses that stained his skin because you were a mere mortal with abilities, and he was a being that was meant for more.

“How is this his fault?”

The fairy is silent, thinking of the words to say.

“Had he lived up to the responsibilities of being the son of Saint Michael, he wouldn’t have caved in.”

Your hair feels light around your shoulders, watching the fairy slowly morph into something less ambiguous.

“What would have happened if we didn’t fall in love in my first life?”

The fairy had grown wings that looks like glass, reflecting light into seven colors into the abyss beyond you. He looks at you, blue eyes never faltering.

“You would’ve become an Undine Fairy, and Hyunjae would’ve had to return to the world of the Skies--”

“And I would never see him again.”

He can see that you’ve had a glimpse into your past life; the forbidden love you had for Hyunjae now buried deep inside you. It feels like someone had just stuck a shovel 6 feet into your heart and dug out every remnant he could find.

“Would you have let him go, had he been true to his existence and you had become an Undine?”

“There’s no way I can answer that, can I?”

The fairy blinks and starts walking backwards. “The rules between the two Worlds are forged in stone, but everybody knows that the matters of the spirit and soul cannot be bound by tangible logic. Your choice depends on what you believe: will you choose to believe what you see or what you feel?”

The question echoes inside your head, and the world around you flashes brightly like you had just died and walked into heaven.

Your consciousness returns to current time, eyes fluttering open as your alarm clock rings you awake. Sitting opposite you, eyes closed as you watch him snoozing lightly despite sitting in a chair, you feel a pinch in your chest.

It’s not his fault, and never will be.

#hyunjae imagines #the boyz #the boyz hyunjae #hyunjae #the boyz imagines #the boyz fanfic #the boyz scenario #tbz imagines

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multifandomwritings · 3 years

Note

Uhhhhh hi sorry this is awkward, I have memory loss problems so please ignore this if you've matched me before! But I would love a slasher match-up, if you have the time~!

So, first off I am TINY. 4'10" and 80lbs soaking wet. I'm like a bite-sized snickers! I'm super pale, lots of uhh acne/picking scars (head to toe lol it almost looks more like freckles). Brown eyes, neon green shoulder-length deathhawk, snaggletoothed. I have a septum ring, gauged ears, and a couple of tattoos...always up for more ink and metal, though!

I dress pretty casually; oversized t-shirts and jackets, simple breezy dresses, flip-flops and worn boots, lots of cozy thrift finds. And all mostly in some shade of black, gray, or olive/green! Lots of bizarre/funky/mismatched jewelry.

My biggest special interest is radiobiology/nuclear history (mostly nuclear disasters). I'm also into medical oddities, monsters, body horror, video games, and drawing.

I am chronically ill and disabled, so I'm not exactly the most energetic or mobile person, but I very much enjoy be the goofball I am at heart and making people laugh. If I wasn't so socially anxious in high school I would've been the class clown, maybe.

Honestly, my big policy in life is to just. Be kind? The world is harsh enough as it is, y'know? But I'm also pretty blunt when people are being garbage and it's obvious that no one else has bothered to give them a reality check.

Ahh sorry if that's a bit long, I never know what to include with these or if I'm missing something important.

Anyway, thank you for your time, have a lovely day/night/whatever it is where you are~! \○/

Hi! Aww it isn't too long, plus the more you include the better I can think of someone to ship you with! Sorry for the wait lol I try to really think about these before I write them!

I ship you with Chop Top Sawyer! ♥ (I am actually torn between Jason and Chop Top. Either is very cute ;-; <3 Beetlejuice too actually! But I think Jason would adore your kindness and such but anyway, onto the matchup!)

- Firstly, Chop Top would adore your style. Green hair? Amazing! Tattoos and piercings? Immaculate! I've said it before but he'd adore any kind of stylistic expression so :)

- Loves your love for funky jewelry. Very supportive of this. Also loves funky jewelry and will search for things like that to give you (will steal things from your jewelry collection he likes though I'm sorry lol he'll give you his too though!)

- Adores hearing about your interests and sharing his own with you. He'd be easily fascinated by things and loves learning about things you're into. Also very impressed by your drawings, especially if you let him watch you draw!

- Chop Top loves your goofy and funny side so much. You can always make him laugh and smile and he can easily bring that side of you out because he's goofy himself

- If you like to thrift he'll love to go find things with you (and he'll bring you along to his favorite music shops) and if you aren't feeling up to it that's ok too! He'll love to sit and watch you draw or play video games. He adores spending time with you and he's easily curious so anything you want to do he'd be happy with

- Overall I think Chop Top would be a surprisingly sweet S/O? Kind of clingy, very sweet and supportive/easily interested in you and your interests

(Also your size different would be very cute 🥺 I love height differences in relationships haha it's so cute)

#matchups #ships #slasher matchups

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tchallasbabymama · 4 years

Text

M’Baku’s Love- Chapter 2

Sorry, had to repost it. For some reason it was all blacked out on mobile? Idk, it’s weird and I’m still trying to understand tumblr.

Anywho, here’s Chapter 2 of M’Baku’s Love. Check out my masterlist HERE to read chapter 1 if you haven’t already, and take a look at my other stories as well. As always, let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged in anything. Enjoy!

Word count: 2689

M’Baku pulled up to the Outreach Center a little earlier than necessary on Tuesday. He got out the automated car and leaned against it, crossing his arms as he scanned over the building and its surroundings while reflecting on the mission at hand. If they were successful, thousands of Black children, millions if they expand, would be given a better education and connected to their old, pre-colonizer ways.

He smiled at the thought and turned to grab his things, when he noticed a small rainbow dash from the other side of the parking lot into the building. It took him a moment to process what he saw, but he realized it was Miss In a Hurry, rushing yet again. He smiled fondly and shook his head before heading towards the Outreach Center, opening the door and heading inside the cool, air conditioned building.

Once the chief settled in his office he went over the assistant files one more time, preparing for their interviews. He went over his upcoming day in his head and remembered that his meeting with the head of the Arts Department was at 11. He smiled to himself, dreamily, at the thought of her bright teal hair and her deep dark eyes, but shook himself out of it when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Mr. M’Baku?” a tall, slender man who looked to be in his early twenties stood in the doorway dressed in slacks and a button-down.

“Yes, who is asking?”

“Deontae Greene, I’m here for my interview,” the young man introduced himself. They shook hands and the interview began. Truthfully, M’Baku didn’t need to interview the other candidates, he had already decided on hiring Deontae the moment his interview ended. He went through the motions of the second and third interview, focusing on the clock more than the interviewees. As soon as his third interview ended, he called Deontae to offer him the position, then went for a quick walk around the center to stretch his legs.

M’Baku found himself outside one of Shuri’s STEM courses, watching as the middle school aged children learned coding languages. She waved him in, and he tentatively stepped inside.

“Everybody, this is M’Baku. He’s the leader of the Jabari tribe in Wakanda.”

A chorus of “Hi M’Baku” erupted from the room, and he smiled before greeting them back.

“Mholo, children. What are you working on today?”

A little girl in the back with braces and pigtails was the first to answer.

“Princess Shuri is teaching us how to make computers work by telling it what to do in different computer languages.”

M’Baku looked at Shuri in confusion and she waved it off to explain later.

The large chief walked around the room to get a look at what they were doing, but quickly made it back to the front of the room when he caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall.

“I have a meeting, or I would stay longer princess.”

“Go, and don't be a stranger to this side of the center. Technology isn't all bad,” Shuri said with a wink as he left and shut the door behind him.

M’Baku’s long legs carried him back to his office in record time, where he was met with the sight of the head of the arts department sitting cross-legged in the chair outside his office, writing in a notebook.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, I wandered down to the STEM wing and lost track of time,” M’Baku rambled on until she looked up at him. Today she had on gold wire-rimmed glasses instead of her red cat-eye frames from the day before, and he liked that he could see her eyes better with this pair. When their eyes met his heart thumped a little louder and his skin felt a little warmer. He watched a small smile brighten up her face as she set her notebook down before unravelling her legs to stand up.

“I wasn’t waiting long. Plus it was your turn to be running late this time,” she responded. M’Baku gestured for her to enter the office first and she obliged before perching cross-legged in the chair across from him. He rounded the desk and sat down, looking into her eyes.

“I do not believe we were properly introduced to one another,” he held out his hand to her, shaking it from across the desk. “I am M’Baku, as you already know from yesterday.”

“Monae Johnson. It’s nice to officially meet you, M’Baku. And my apologies about the other day, I accidentally took a nap and woke up with barely enough time to- I’m rambling, my bad, I do that sometimes.” She rubbed the back of her head..

“It is no problem, really,” more than anything, M’Baku found her adorable.

“So did you end up trying the place I suggested?”

“Yes, I am actually glad you ran into me. I loved The V Spot. It was an excellent recommendation, thank you.” M’Baku had to give props where they were due and this woman definitely knew food. “You must tell me, what else is good in the area?”

“There’s so much! What do you like?”

“I am new to most cuisines, but I am open. Our meeting ends around lunchtime, would you care to accompany me and show me something I might like?”

Monae’s chest tightened up at his seemingly unintended double entendre. The man before her was fine as aged wine and she was having a very difficult time concentrating on the conversation, instead wishing she could see how soft his lips are. She looked down at the ring on her left ring finger and sighed, knowing she’d regret her decision.

“I’d love to.”

______

“You’re a vegan, right?”

“Vegetarian, but vegan is fine.”

“Ever tried Indian food?”

“I cannot say that I have.”

“Come on, there’s a place around here with some really good lunch specials. I hope you like it.”

“Well your last suggestion was superb, so I trust you,” he said with a wink. Monae blushed and turned away, but not before he noticed. M’Baku fought to contain his smile and cleared his throat. “So are you from Oakland?”

“Nope, I’m from Nashville. A southern girl at heart,” she said with her best southern debutante affectation. “I came to Cali for college and just never left.”

“What made you stay?”

“Honestly? It never gets cold here, not the type of cold that seeps into your bones anyway. The worst I’ve felt here is chilly. I’m not made for anything below 50 degrees.”

“As chief of the Jabari I must say I am a little offended, Miss Johnson.”

Monae’s face twisted up, but then softened when she saw the glint in his eye. Was he flirting?

“My apologies, your highness,” she said with a curtsey. “But I’ll admire it from afar.” Her ring flashed in her line of vision, but she shook it out of her mind.

“Besides, you are wrong. Anything over 40 degrees is unfit for habitation. The weather here makes me want to crawl into my refrigerator.”

Monae shivered at the thought.

The two of them arrived at Bombay Palace and since he trusted her judgement, she ordered for the table. The waiter took their menus and quickly brought their waters with lemon slices.

“Are you a vegetarian as well?”

“Um sometimes. I don't eat red meat, but I still eat fish and poultry on occasion. I’m mostly plant-based though. I read that the Jabari are pescetarian, what made you switch over?”

“You have been reading about us, eh?”

“Well I like to know who I’m working with, and I imagine that over the next few months we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, so yes I read about the Jabari.”

“Yes, I would hope so,” M’Baku said before taking a sip of his water while watching her. He noticed her shiver under his gaze and adjust herself in the booth and he smirked, knowing he was getting to her. “And I just do not like the taste of fish very much. Earlier you mentioned having a dance background, do you still dance?”

“I’m so busy I barely have enough time nowadays outside of teaching a class at the center here and there.”

The waiter returned with their samosa appetizer and Monae danced in her seat a little, making M’Baku crack a smile at her endearing antics. They both dug in, M’Baku immediately thanking Hanuman for the food he had received. The familiar yet unfamiliar tastes swirled around in his mouth like a gold medal ice skater at the winter olympics, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Mmm, what is this?”

“Samosas.”

“I could eat this for the rest of my life and die a happy man.”

Monae giggled and almost choked on her food, “This is just the first course, wait until you taste the paneer.”

The two of them continued to talk as more food came out, not watching the time at all.

“How does your family feel about you living so far away?”

“Well my little sister is in college at NYU, living her own life, and my parents died six years ago in a car crash, so they don't feel much of anything anymore.”

He was torn between laughing at her joke and feeling a deep sadness for her loss.

“What’s your family like?”

“I am the oldest of ten-”

“Ten?!”

“Yes.”

“Your poor mama...”

M’Baku’s laughter roared through the restaurant and forced a laugh out of Monae as well. Of course his laugh was as big as he was, and her mind briefly wondered if everything about him was proportional to his size before she was pulled out of her daydream by a ringing telephone. She looked down and her face dropped when she read the name on her screen. “Shit. Uh, sorry I have to answer this- Hi honey...yeah of course...uh-huh...no, just out at lunch with a colleague-”

He couldn’t believe his ears. He knew for a fact that she was flirting with him, yet here he was talking to her “honey.” He wanted to roll his eyes, but instead returned them to his bowl and kept eating.

“Hey, D, can I call you back? We’re just about done here...Ok, bye.” She hung up the phone and cleared her throat.

“Boyfriend?”

“Fiance actually,” she said, showing off the ring on her finger.

“Interesting…”

“What is?”

M’Baku leaned back in his chair and looked into her eyes as he spoke.

“I was not aware you were already spoken for.”

Something about the tone of his voice made her face heat up and she crossed her legs tighter.

“I have my ring on, what would make you think otherwise?”

“That right there,” he gestured to her flushed skin and fidgeting lower half. “You are awfully flirty for someone who is betrothed.”

Monae had hoped he wouldn’t notice and they could carry on like earlier, but the moment was ruined.

M’Baku looked at his watch, realizing they spent almost two hours at the restaurant. “We should get back to the center, I am sure we are missed.”

“M’Baku, I’m sorry to lead you on, but that wasn’t my intention, I just-”

“There is no need to explain, Monae.” He flashed her his gap-toothed smile and called for the waiter to bring their check. He paid, not without plenty of arguing on her end, and they headed back to work.

Shortly after he made it back to his desk the king and prince barged in.

“Soooo…?” N’Jadaka tried to get the conversation going, but M’Baku wasn’t following.

“How did it go?” T’Challa added.

“How did what go?”

The cousins looked at each other in exasperation, and yet again the hot headed prince pushed the issue further.

“Your date nigga! We saw you and Monae walking all close and shit.”

“It was not a date,” He loved the Udakus dearly, but Hanuman, they could be an annoying and intrusive bunch. “She is engaged.”

“Barely,” the cousins said with an eye roll.

“What do you mean ‘barely’?”

“My friend, she has been engaged for three years now with no wedding plans in place and he is almost never home. Like we said: barely.”

M’Baku would never knowingly break up a happy home, but he saw her body language on the phone and she didn’t seem to be as into her fiance as she was into him. Yes he was shiny and new, but the exasperation in her voice at his interruption told him what he needed to know.

“Far be it from me to advocate for adultery, but-”

“It ain't far from me, cuz,” N’Jadaka butted in. “Bak, that beautiful fairy of a woman likes your big ape ass for some reason. Fuck that nigga, she was looking at you like you’re already daddy.”

M’Baku looked over to T’Challa who was nodding in agreement. He had watched her during their department head meeting and every time M’Baku spoke she perked up and the tension fell from her shoulders. She was definitely feeling him.

“I have met this fiance just once and did not get a good vibe from him. I am not sure what it is yet, but there is something-”

M’Baku cut him off before he could even finish. He knew if he let them continue they would end up hatching a plan and roping him into it, so he nipped it in the bud.

“Do not worry about it, I would prefer to remain unattached for the short while I am here, anyway. Now if you know someone who would like something more casual, I would not mind meeting them at some point.”

“I’ll keep an eye out, brother”

“I think the newest history teacher is single, or at least there's no ring on her finger. I can’t remember her name though, is it Keisha? Naima? Whatever it is, she’s fine as hell,” N’Jadaka’s hands outlined her voluptuous body for him, which caught his interest. “I’ll see what I can do. We gon get you some pussy bruh, on Bast.”

T’Challa simply nodded in agreement again.

“Thank you both for your concern,” M’Baku responded dryly. “Now if you gentlemen would excuse me, I have to meet with the social studies department head in a minute.”

“We understand when we are not wanted, but please at least let N’Jadaka set you up. You need to get back out there again, it’s been more than enough time,” the king patted his friend’s shoulder before leaving the room, his cousin doing the same.

______

M’Baku’s last meeting didn’t end until 5 pm, and he was more than ready to get home, cook dinner, and watch a little more Fresh Prince. He packed up his things and headed out towards his car, when out of the corner of his eye he spotted Monae on the other side of the parking lot struggling with several boxes. He jogged over and took them from her hands.

“Here, let me.”

“How are you everywhere?” She laughed.

“You are just lucky, I guess.” He flashed her his million-dollar smile and she was hooked again. Derrick be damned.

“Yeah, I guess I am...um, thank you M’Baku...well uh, I should go. Busy day tomorrow with the open house and all.”

“Ah yes, what exactly is an open house?”

She chuckled at his naivety.

“Basically people from the community get to come here after hours to see what we offer. Think of it like a mass tour.”

“Interesting, well since I have nothing to show them on this tour I am sure I will have time to help if you need it.”

“Thank you, M’Baku, I just might take you up on that.”

“Good. Well, you should go home and rest for the big day ahead. I will see you tomorrow Monae.”

“Get home safe!”

It warmed his heart to hear her caring about his safety, even if it's something she said to everybody. A dreamy smile parted his lips and he felt as if she had just kissed his cheek and sent him on his way.

“You as well, Monae. You as well...”

Next Chapter

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #m'baku #m'baku's love #m'baku x oc #black!oc #fluff #jada kingdom

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jtrokujo · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐑

paring: Juzzo Susuya x fem!Reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: blood, brutal

gerne: drama

summary: You loss someone very close to you through a ghoul. However, you were rescued by an unknown man that you would see him again, neither of you knew.

—

A woman's life has never been easy, no matter what century you live in, there are always people whose minds are from the previous century.

Since I am a student and have to go to work right after all my lectures it is late in the evening, as I am lucky in an unsafe district in Tokyo it doesn't make the situation any better, apart from the perverted men there are quite a few ghouls in this world, that can turn any person's life into a nightmare at any second.

Sometimes I hate them a little too much, because one of them had murdered my best friend in front of my eyes and then ate it. Since I was in a state of shock, I couldn't do anything, neither run nor scream.

The only thing I could do was let my tears run free.

If he hadn't come that evening, I'm sure I would have been dead long ago.

I don't know his name for it but his looks, it has to be said that his looks don't distinguish that of a 'normal' person, but it's nice to see someone else.

But this charisma that he had was terrifying, my heart beat and beat against my chest every time, while he laughed and screamed by brutally and inhumanly murdering someone in front of my eyes.

Anyone with a sane mind knows that the ghouls are cruel, but just because someone is so cruel you don't have to be like that person, because in the end, until you are just like that person you loathe.

Today is Saturday, my favorite weekday, but why?

Quite simply, no school and no work.

Nevertheless, I am outside and am just about to buy flowers, because today it is 4 months ago that Haruki sacrificed his life for mine.

Just looking back, it makes my back cold.

Instead of the sun shining for him, the rain presents the tears from me for the past months.

He was like a brother to me.

I'm going to graduate soon just so I can become a police officer, it will take a long time, but everything has its time.

Kneeling in front of his tombstone, which was engraved with his name, laid (Y / N) the flowers and closed her eyes for a long time.

For it is now autumn, the sun has already set.

Sighing, she got up and took the subway in the district where she lives, but she was less lucky in which district she is, because this is the district where most murders, robberies, drug trafficking and much more happen.

You have to consider that the rents there are pretty cheap.

Just as (Y / N) was about to take her headphones out of her pocket, she heard distant steps behind her.

Hesitantly she turned around but nobody saw.

She slowly put her headphones where it was before and jogged a little.

Maybe she should run, but what if?

if there really was a person here, or a ghoul and if she should run, what should she do if he was standing in front of her?

When she was about to run away, she heard a loud scream, it sounds like pain and cruel agony.

As reluctantly as she wanted to go there, a question came through her head: "What if it was a person, someone who was attacked by a ghoul?"

Dejected, she started running in that direction, she will probably die any second, but she has to save someone!

If she couldn't save him then at least this stranger could.

When she arrived at the finish, she only saw one back, he was wearing a blue sweatshirt and had black hair, his fingers are clamped to his hair and his screams were louder than before.

Slowly as she approached him, she held her hand in front of her mouth so as not to make a sound - the bad sounds are rising over her head.

A dead man lay before him, covered in blood, his face barely recognizable, his stomach torn open.

When the crying man turned around, her breathing stopped, it was more than just a ghoul, it was someone she knew.

You could say they are good friends "Ken?" she asked softly and looked into his black eye.

Had he always been a ghoul?

Various emotions are brought together through his eyes, anger, shock, fear and, above all, hate.

Without knowing how (Y / N) should feel, a salty tear rolled down her cheek, "Get lost!" he shouted in her face and immediately looked away from her, but how could she run?

While in shock, Ken prefers to focus on the dead man.

The dead man's blood is on the floor, on Ken's hands, clothes and face.

She ran away in fear of the one she saw as a friend.

As fast as she could she ran into nothing, just not with him.

Her breath was loud and since breathing is loud it is easier for her attacker to find her.

When she was about to be free from this area, someone grabbed her wrist, but the person overdid it and managed to break her wrist in a few seconds.

She screamed loudly in pain, but her attacker covered her mouth, she tasted iron ... blood?

Her eyes widened to see that it was Ken who broke her wrist

"I'm sorry, but I have no other choice."

Ken.

Said my mind, I slowly closed my eyes and waited every second until it ended my life when I suddenly heard a laugh.

It wasn't Ken's, definitely not mine, but it sounds so familiar to me.

I opened my eyes and saw a white-haired man in the distance approaching us every second, without really being able to do anything, I closed my eyes and screamed loudly until I heard something drop.

I slowly opened mine and at the same time couldn't feel Ken's arm anymore, but I felt his stomach on my back.

I regret opening my eyes because Ken's arm was there.

All the red blood is all over the floor.

The sirens rang loudly, the lights of the police cars shine towards us.

All weapons are aimed at us, or rather at Ken, they want to kill him.

His body is still close to mine, it was trembling badly.

"Ken, get out of here."

Unfortunately, we both know too well that if he's here a minute longer, he's going to die.

"I am sorry." he said softly and disappeared from nowhere.

Apparently the white-haired man didn't feel like following him but approached me, he lifted Ken's cut off arm in the air and bragged about it in front of the police officers.

Then he looked at me and said, full of joy, "Wait a minute! I know you!"

The fear still lingers in me, so I couldn't say anything.

A police officer approached us and asked me to come along so I can answer the questions that were sent to me.

"I want to come with." said the stranger, and went ahead.

Together in the car he tried in vain to have a conversation with me several times, but how can I?

I saw with my own eyes how a friend of mine is actually a ghoul and an innocent man was just about to eat.

Please let all of this be a bad joke to me.

In one room, the officer questioned me, but if I'm honest I have to admit that I didn't answer all questions honestly.

What would they do with Ken?

Of course they'll kill him and even if he's a ghoul he'll still be my friend, no matter what.

It is clear to me that it is wrong to lie, but I know that Ken, even though he is a ghoul, is not that someone who enjoys killing people or even eats them.

I was given a small bottle of water in the hallway and waited for it to be released.

"Hey." someone whispered and sat down next to me.

"Hi." I whispered back, but my eyes stay on my bottle.

"You don't like to talk, do you?" he asked me and immediately started talking about himself.

Apparently killing ghouls is a passion for him, why exactly I don't know.

But maybe it's his past, who knows.

Juzzo Susuya is his name.

In contrast to the other people I met, he seems to be a little different, not only in character but also in appearance.

These scars that are on his body seem a bit strange, I don't know how exactly.

But one thing is clear to me, he is constantly smiling.

He's probably just happy and if it is then tell me how?

How can anyone be happy all the time since we first met I saw that smile on their face.

To be honest, it scares me a little.

But he seems to be quite young, for where and for what he works.

"Tell me about yourself ... human."

I didn't really give much of myself credit.

Just my name and that I want to work as a policewoman, but I want a job like Juzzo.

I know not every ghoul is bad, but there are too many.

Before Juzzo could talk, someone came and told me I could go.

I got up and wished them a good evening, when I looked at my cell phone to know what time it was, I was a bit shocked that it was shortly before 11 am.

"Hey, (Y / N)!" Juzzo's voice can be heard through the corridor, and I turned around in amazement.

Right in front of me the psycho was standing with a strange grin and said "I'll go with you, because what if a ghoul came out of nowhere, huh? Of course I'll kill him!"

He laughed with all his heart.

Although he seemed nice, he still scares me, but the fact that a ghoul could have intervened any second on the way home made me feel cold.

"Yes, please." answered hesitantly and went on.

On the way home there was a pleasant silence between us, apart from the police sirens the night didn't seem bad like the others.

Every now and then I looked up at the sky and see how beautiful the earth can be.

When I got to my apartment, I got the house keys until Juzzo spoke to me in a different tone.

But it's not that kind of tone that sends a shiver through your spine, no, it's something familiar and yet unfamiliar.

"(Y / N), do me a favor and look for another job, you have seen for yourself how dangerous that can be."

Sighing, I answer "I can decide about my future myself, Juzzo. Take care of yourself."

And so I opened the door and closed it immediately afterwards.

But it's probably also the last time I saw him, someone he'll save my life and ... whatever (Y / N) don't think too much about it.

TIME SKIP

It has been about 3 years after this case.

I am about to buy a coffee from a bakery, but I am buying a small piece of cake for a good friend of mine, but I am not surprised that he likes something sweet.

I got in the car and drove straight to the station, actually nothing special as it is already part of everyday life.

Get up, get ready for work, drive to the bakery to buy a cup of coffee and a small cake and finally drive to the area, nothing special as I said.

Once there, he was already standing in the entrance and looked at the surroundings, but when he saw me he waved his arms up in the air and shouted my name the whole time.

His colleagues looked at him in surprise, but he skilfully ignored them.

"Good morning, Juzzo." I said, handing him his cake, he threw his arms through my waist and also said "Good morning, (Y / N)."

I am happy to have a good friend like Juzzo in my life.

Even if he can be a psycho at times, he still seems to find the right words for you every now and then.

It's hard to believe that he can make me laugh so quickly in just a few seconds.

The work day was not very special today, so I struggled not to fall asleep.

After our release, Juzzo suddenly had the idea of going to the cinema because a new horror film was coming out, seriously?

Dejected, we made our way, while Juzzo chatted about various original murder documentaries, but it has to be said that they are better than horror films.

After Juzzo, strangely enough, paid for the tickets and the snacks, we looked for our seats.

That can be something.

TIME SKIP

"It was completely boring." sigh Juzzo disappointed as we got into my car.

"I can just agree with you."

I started the engine and hit the gas and started driving around town.

There aren't many people to see, but maybe it's better that way.

Just when I had to think of Ken out of nowhere my cell phone was buzzing, bored Juzzo took my cell phone and took it.

"(Y / N) and Juzzo here, what's going on?" he asked, showing my screen, a guoul is sure to be in sight.

We were told where this is and hung up immediately afterwards.

"I love killing ghouls, but I'm so tired today. And all because of this movie."

With a giggle, I said that he could stay with me and drove straight in the direction.

After about 5 minutes we have already reached the finish line.

Annoyed, I took out my gun while Juzzo started running like a psycho.

However, the ghoul did not see it from Juzzo but from me, he let go of his victim so that she could run away for her life and jumped in front of me.

Surprised, Juzzo turns around and screams if he is not enough.

Immediately I grabbed my weapon and immediately made a deep wound on him, of course he wasn't very happy about it and immediately set his claws.

Unfortunately, I evaded too late, so the wounds on my cheek can certainly become scars.

When he was about to take another hit, Juzzo's weapon threatened through his stomach, the ghoul suddenly stopped and spat out a lot of blood.

He quickly pulled out his weapon and beheaded my attacker who was now lying on the floor covered in blood.

Since I do not want that not only my clothes but also shoes are covered with the blood of a ghoul, I tried in vain to get up, maybe I sprained my ankles, but it will be fine.

Juzzo immediately took my gun and asked me if he should carry me, whereby I said that it wasn't too bad and also started to run.

Juzzo hesitated, but he knows himself that it is useless to argue with me.

After what feels like an eternity, we are back home with the help of my car.

Annoyed, I took my laundry and in the next second found myself in the shower.

When I got out of the shower I saw that Juzzo also wanted to take a shower and gave him the spare clothes that I have for him in the closet.

After he was finished we lay down together in my bed and put the covers on our bodies.

I turned off the light and whispered softly, "Love you, Juzzo. Good night."

"Me too."

He deserves the slap in the face.

#oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #female #x you #tokyo ghoul #tokyo #ghoul #ken kaneki #nishiki nishio #shuu tsukiyama #ffs #love story #my story #female reader #anime / manga #your name

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