#because he gets to feel the experience of reliable parents that are in his corner supporting him and protecting him

[waitineedaname]

I so desperately wanna know what lee sookyung and persephone's relationship is like. they share a son, I have GOT to know how lsk feels about that. is there grief that her son allowed himself to be adopted by another set of parents, when he struggles to connect with her? is she relieved that he has someone at all? does she try to tell persephone stories about his childhood, only to find there's only a small pool of stories she can tell, the rest of them colored by suffering and her absence? did they mourn him together?

[spencers-renaissance]

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy

Summary: Spencer's gay. He joins the BAU and befriends the team, but it is 2003. It's a secret he has to keep. He just didn't expect it to be this hard.

Tags: gay!spencer, coming out, hurt/comfort, insecure!spencer, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, dad hotch, protective!hotch, protective!derek, childhood trauma TW: one instance of explicit homophobia, but it is referenced a lot, as is Spencer's internalised homophobia at the start of this fic. A shit ton of heteronormativity but tbh that's just canon lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid/OMC, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid

Word Count: 6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Consider this my contribution to pride month 😌 I've waited so long to post it and I'm so glad I'm finally doing it because it's definitely one of my all time favourites <3 Gideon is here somewhere but just like with all my early season fics he's not really part of the plot I combined my moreid and gen taglists bc it was hard to know the audience for this, but just ignore it if you're not interested!

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. — richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves

Spencer has only told one person in his whole life.

His mother guessed. For as long as he can remember, she’s used gender neutral pronouns when talking about his future partner, read him all the gay literature she could find, promised him that he’s perfect just the way he is.

The trouble is that Spencer only believes her until the first grade, when Ryan Sampson shoves him over in the playground and calls him gay. His mom had only ever used that term in a sweet, loving way, taking care to associate such words with positivity, as long as his dad wasn’t around to hear. When that word comes out of Ryan Sampson’s mouth, it is not said with sweetness and love; it is said with venom, and Spencer learns quickly that his mom is wrong. He is not perfect just the way he is.

And so, he keeps it a secret. When his mom notices him getting uncomfortable at the mention of future partners, she stops bringing it up, though she refuses to give up the diverse education she provides for him outside of school. His dad tells him that one day he’ll be a strapping young man and marry a nice girl in a church, and Spencer nods along. He ignores the way his stomach turns with anxiety at the thought. Ignores the screaming match his parents have that night. Ignores the fact that it started because Diana chipped in with ‘or boy’.

He’s in high school by the time he’s twelve, and the only part he’s grateful for is the absence of pressure to get a girlfriend. His dad’s out of the picture now, and Spencer tries not to let himself think that maybe if he wasn’t like this he might have stayed. Diana’s so out of it most days that she doesn’t remember what she noticed about him when he was a child, only recalling the last few years of shoving himself so far back in the closet he can hardly see the door anymore.

It feels like he’s lost his last ally.

(He hates that a small part of him feels relieved she doesn’t remember; that he almost feels assured by the fact that the last person to know who he really is has forgotten. There is only this version of Spencer Reid now. No other exists.)

He makes the mistake during his second undergraduate degree. He’s just turned eighteen but he is already a doctor and, fortunately, this alienates him from most of his peers, but someone manages to slide past his defences. Ethan Miller is twenty, in the second year of his (first) undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering, and he’s nice. Spencer doesn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but they get on well and Ethan makes him laugh. For the first time, he feels comfortable in the presence of anyone other than his mother.

They slip into an easy friendship: waiting for each other after class — Spencer back in the undergraduate buildings now he has his first PhD under his belt — and going out for ice cream and pizza and Thai food. Ethan goes to parties while Spencer studies, and then they reconvene to watch Doctor Who and play cards.

For almost a year, Spencer keeps his secret carefully locked up, hidden behind the mask he’s perfected after so many years. Even though he’s eighteen, nearly nineteen now, he doesn’t try and explore that side of himself. No, that’s far too risky. He doesn’t try and pretend any other way either, he just stays silent and lets people’s assumptions lie for him, but he can’t help the longing that claws up his throat when he locks eyes with a passing guy on campus. One time, he’d seen two men kiss on a bench in the city, and he’d run back to his dorm and had a panic attack. Why couldn’t he have that?

The feelings don’t stop, and he doesn’t know how to make them. He hates that he isn’t normal, but still longs for the touch of a man, the feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, of being kissed by dry, chapped lips, and falling asleep to a heartbeat approximately 11% slower than that of a woman’s.

It’s a constant battle inside him, emotions raging, and he struggles to control it, suppress it, tame it.

He pays a sorry price.

Ethan makes him feel comfortable, and that turns out to be a detriment. He relaxes around the other boy: he tells him about growing up as a pre-teen in a high school, about how a child feels living 260 miles away from home, even about his mother’s illness.

And one day, it slips out. They’re on the beach, lying on towels as they look up at the blue sky, talking about what their futures will look like: Ethan will be a successful chemical engineer in Berlin, and Spencer will work for the FBI, profiling serial killers.

“You’ll have to marry a German girl,” he tells Ethan. “It’ll be tough to convince an American girl to move all the way to Germany as soon as you graduate.”

“Yeah, and what about you? You’ll be off fighting crime around the country, not much of a life for a family.”

“Oh, I imagine my husband will be the type to—”

“Husband?”

Spencer freezes. It shocks him as much as it shocks Ethan. He doesn’t even pay much attention to Ethan’s disgusted face and his outraged tirade. He hears slurs and insults, hears him say that he can’t believe Spencer tricked him like this, that he was probably waiting to make a move on him, that he was never to look in Ethan’s direction again, but Spencer is frozen in time.

He’s never allowed him to think much about what his personal life might look like in the future, but he’d said ‘husband’ on instinct, without thinking, and it’s clearly something he actually wants. Ethan’s words sting, but the moment brings about a realisation Spencer is thankful for; it instigates a journey of self-discovery and self-expression, of the joy of living as your true self.

He loses his first and only friend, but he gains something much more valuable. He visits gay bars — nervously sipping a non-alcoholic drink in the corner at first, before soon becoming confident enough to respond to the men who sidle up to him and ask for his name. He lets go and dances the night away, sometimes going home with one of the many dance partners he acquires during the night, sometimes heading back to his own dorm happily alone.

Makeup and dresses and skirts and heels make their way into his wardrobe, and he befriends girls and drag queens and other gay men who encourage him to be exactly the way he is. And the best part is, he never has to come out to any of them. All of them know, and that’s good enough for everyone.

The fun comes to a sad sort of slow, however, when he joins the BAU. Everyone knows law enforcement’s relationship with the LGBT community is less than adequate — Spencer’s seen it with his own eyes: butch lesbians and men in dresses getting roughed up by angry police officers for ‘lewd behaviour’ or ‘drunkenness’ when they’re just being themselves. It’s not safe for him to tell anyone, so he doesn’t.

He still goes out with his friends when he’s in town and wears makeup and dresses and crop tops when he’s at home, but presents as rigidly straight Dr Spencer Reid to his team at the BAU.

The hardest part about it is that he loves his team. He’s known Gideon for years — and he wouldn’t be surprised if he suspects something after coming over to his house unannounced one night, only to have a man other than Spencer open the door — but he settles into a comforting dynamic with Hotch. He can’t help but see him as something of a father figure, and he knows Hotch has a soft spot for him, always looking out for him and taking him under his wing without a moment’s hesitation.

Elle, JJ, and Penelope all take a shine to him, too, teasing him without a hint of malice in their tones, only the kind of playful kindness that reminds him of his mother. He forms a special bond with Penelope and they spend hours watching Doctor Who together and geeking out on all the areas their interests overlap, and the comfort he feels with her matches the comfort he’s found with his new group of queer friends.

(She doesn’t hold a candle to Ethan, he decides one night, after he’d cried at a movie she’d made him watch and she felt so bad she made him hot chocolate and jam toast and cuddled him until he felt better.)

Derek becomes a brother to him. He puts him in a headlock at least once a day — which Spencer has been reliably informed by multiple sources is a very brotherly thing to do — and teases him relentlessly, while simultaneously being fiercely protective of him. Enough so, that Spencer sometimes wonders if he even has Hotch beat in that department.

He loves his team and his team loves him. It should be simple. It is still 2003.

He comes in one morning late for a briefing, his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair is a mess, and he’s fairly sure that his attempt to cover the hickey at the base of his neck with concealer has been ultimately unsuccessful. It’s obvious why he’s late. Gideon is too engrossed in the case file to notice, but Hotch raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face as everyone else immediately takes to teasing him.

“Who’s the lucky lady, pretty boy?”

Elle raises an eyebrow to match Derek’s shit-eating grin, “Someone definitely got some strange last night.”

“When do we get to meet her, Spence?” JJ asks, smirking as he takes a seat.

He’s bright red — as if he needed to look any more debauched — and Spencer tries to ignore the hurt that seizes his chest at the reminder of his need to stay quiet. This team respects him, and he can’t throw that away just because Spencer gets too comfortable.

God, he wishes Penelope was here.

“None of your business,” he mutters, trying to keep his tone light. He fails.

Naturally, Hotch notices and swiftly moves the briefing on, and Spencer keeps his gaze locked on the case file, not missing the absence of a reprimand from his superior. He’s constantly thankful for the older man, but in this moment, he wishes he could hug him.

(A voice that sounds dangerously close to Ethan’s rises up and taunts him in his ear: he wouldn’t want a dirty homo like you anywhere near him—)

Derek doesn’t let up on the case, continuing to bug him about the special lady in his life. He does concede that it could’ve been a one night stand, which is one front he’s right on, but a couple more concessions are necessary before Derek comes close to the truth of last night.

Eventually, Derek stops, and Spencer notes that the cessation of comments comes suspiciously close to the last time Derek and Hotch were alone together. He doesn’t have it in him to feel angry at Hotch for stepping in when he had it handled; doesn’t have the energy to act as though his pride is wounded, because really, neither of those things are true, and he doesn’t need to add another item to ‘Spencer Reid’s List of Things He Pretends to Be.’

The situation is forgotten, and time moves on.

Things change when he finds his first proper boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the giddying rush of emotions it turns out to be, and Spencer spends his days smiling as he daydreams his time away.

His name is Oscar Wilkins, a History professor at Georgetown University, and Spencer falls quickly in love with him. Ever since their mutual friend had introduced them at a gay bar one evening, they’d spent all their free time together. He’s kind and gentle and understanding of Spencer’s hectic and unpredictable job, and he finally has the chance to experience everything he quietly and shamefully longed for as a teenager.

The only downside is the silent breaking of Spencer’s heart that the most important people in his life can’t meet his boyfriend. He longs to show Oscar off, to hold hands in front of his team, lean up to press a tender kiss to Oscar’s lips. He wants to put a framed picture of the two of them at the Washington Monument on his desk to remind him of why he needs to get through the hard days; he doesn’t want to have to sneak out of the hotel room he shares with Derek to whisper hushed, loving goodnights over the phone.

But he’s too scared. Too cowardly.

It’s different being who he is with his gay group of friends littered with wlws and drag queens and other gay and bisexual guys. They understand.

But Derek and Hotch are two extremely masculine, alpha men: Derek’s a ladies’ man and Hotch is married to a woman he met in college with a baby on the way and both have a strong and dominant energy that still sometimes manages to intimidate Spencer even after all these years. And Elle and JJ are lovely — some of his closest friends, really — but sometimes they remind him a little too much of the mean girls he went to high school with.

The hardest person to keep his secret from, though, is Penelope. She’s his best friend and he desperately wants to give her all of him, but he’s so scared. He’s lost a best friend to this secret before, and even though he’s certain she’d be fine with it, what if she accidentally let it slip to Derek? What if Hotch found out and didn’t see him in the same light anymore? What if the girls started teasing him? What if Gideon didn’t want to mentor him anymore?

The fear paralyses him. And it’s a cycle he doesn’t know how to break.

Fear, though, doesn't stop everyone from noticing his daydreaming, his dopey smile when he checks his messages, his urgency to get home where he would’ve stayed until the small hours of the morning before. As excellent as he is at hiding his sexuality, he’s fucking terrible at hiding the fact that he’s in love: it was easy enough to pretend he was straight, but hiding something this all-consuming is an impossible ask.

Derek comes over to perch on the edge of his desk one afternoon, sighing as he sits down. “Pretty boy, this is getting ridiculous,” he says, snatching Spencer’s attention away from his phone. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last twenty minutes as you’ve texted Future Mrs Reid. When are we going to meet her?”

(He hates the new nickname the team has given his mystery significant other, although Oscar had found it hilarious. “It’s funny because when we get married, we’ll hardly be able to tell,” he’d argued through his laughter. “Neither of us will change our name because of our academic profiles, and we’ll both still be ‘Dr’. Our wedding rings will be the only indicator.”

Spencer hadn’t argued back, because he’d been too tongue-tied and flushed pink at Oscar’s use of ‘when’ in regards to their hypothetical nuptials. It was only made bearable by Oscar kissing him gently and tucking him under his arm, not embarrassing him any further as Spencer had sort of anticipated, warmth settling over his chest at the thought of their future together.)

“You won’t,” he replies, perhaps a little too curtly.

Derek starts at that, clearly not expecting it. He definitely should’ve tried to play it off as a joke. “What— should I be offended, pretty boy?”

You wouldn’t call me that if you knew who I really am.

“That’s up to you, Derek,” he says calmly, although he still can’t meet his eyes, “but you won’t meet the ‘Future Mrs Reid, so I think it would probably be best if you left it alone.”

“Damn,” Derek mutters under his breath, clearly pissed off and probably more hurt than Spencer ever intended. “Suit yourself.”

And with that, he gets up and leaves his desk. Spencer’s only solace is the text message he sees on his phone when he picks it back up: I love you so much. You know that, right?

The light-hearted ridicule comes to an abrupt halt after the incident with Derek, and it’s clear that he had been the biggest contributor to the teasing. He’s thankful that the jokes have stopped, but he wishes desperately that it didn’t come with the growing distance between him and his team. Loneliness takes the place of his previous irritated anxiety, and he isn’t sure what’s worse.

It all comes to a head at the end of a case in Michigan. They’re stuck in the lounge of the small inn they’d stayed in the last few days, a snowstorm having blocked them in and grounded the jet, although Gideon had long since retreated to his room. The fire’s going and they’re the only guests around, so it’s cosy enough, but Spencer can’t help but feel sick at the idea of another night away from home.

It’s only been two weeks since he’d snapped at Derek, but the chasm between him and the team is only widening with each passing day. He knows it’s not a case of ‘pick a side’, but the team’s morale relies on light-hearted banter and teasing, and him not being a part of that anymore has only brewed awkwardness. Everyone’s trying to give him space when space is the last thing he wants.

Oscar’s keeping him company over the phone at least, but it’s not quite enough to quell the loneliness swimming around his stomach, and the 'discrete' sideways looks he gets from the team only make him feel worse.

“At least it’s nice and toasty in here,” JJ sighs as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate the kindly inn owner had made for them all.

Elle hums in agreement. “There are worse places to be grounded.”

“I dunno, man, I just wanna get home,” Derek says, not taking his eyes off the fire. Spencer can’t help but agree.

“Oh, come on,” Hotch muses, considerably more jovial now the case is over, “we’re here, and that’s not going to change any time soon. We should make the most of it.”

“It’s at least nice to be somewhere sort-of Christmassy now it’s December,” Elle points out. “We could be stuck in a dingy police station like we probably will be next week.”

“Ooh, I noticed that Jemimah and Kiran started planning the Christmas party last week,” JJ says, smiling at them. “I offered my help, but they seem to have it covered.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t need more work on your plate.”

“Not gonna argue with that,” she murmurs, smiling as she brings her mug to her lips again.

Spencer doesn’t miss that Derek is still stewing on the opposite side of the room.

“Are you looking forward to the Christmas party, Spencer? Will you come?” Hotch asks, clearly trying to rope him into the conversation, which he appreciates. He’s been making a lot of effort with him the past few weeks, and it’s just about the only thing that’s getting him through each day.

Before he can reply, though, Derek erupts from the other side of the room; an already pissed-off man being pushed over the edge. “He won’t even let us meet his fucking girlfriend, Hotch, he’s not gonna want to come to the Christmas party!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air as he glares at Spencer with a stormy expression raging across his face.

Suddenly, Spencer can’t stay silent anymore, and his retort shocks himself just as much as it does everyone else. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”

It might be the loudest he’s ever shouted in his whole life. He’s always been quiet and restrained, the type to state his feelings as calmly as possible no matter how he’s feeling on the inside. Even in the biggest fight he’s had with Oscar, his voice was barely loud enough to qualify as a shout.

There’s a brief stunned silence, but Derek quickly slices his way through it, voice raising to meet Spencer’s fiery emotion, fierce and loud. “Oh, don’t even go there, Reid, you’re really gonna try and argue that? You’re gonna lie about her as well as not let us meet her? What a boyfriend you are.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a girlfriend!” he repeats, voice catching this time as tears rise unbidden to the backs of his eyes and all the emotions of the journey he’s taken with his sexuality over the years flood him in a wave of intensity he’s not prepared for.

“You’re fucking lying—!”

“I have a boyfriend!” he yells. “Alright? I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”

The anger and emotion quickly dissipates, and he’s left standing alone in front of the team he’s put so much effort into hiding this from, watching shock spell out across everyone’s expressions. He’s never felt smaller than he does in that moment, and he quickly grabs his phone before running upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him.

“Oh God, Oscar, I fucked up so bad,” he cries over the phone as soon as his boyfriend picks up.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby,” Oscar says gently, but Spencer can hear the anxious concern in his voice, “it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m here. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I just— Oh God, I just told the team.” A new wave of horror rolls over him as he realises what he’s done. Times might be changing, but it’s still only 2006, and he doesn’t know each and every nuance of his team members’ political positions and, fuck, he hates that his existence is a fucking political position.

Oscar’s been so understanding of his reluctance to not tell the team, even though Spencer’s met pretty much everyone in his life. He isn’t sure what he’s done to earn such a gracious and understanding boyfriend, but he’s not about to question it.

“Baby, I know it’s scary, and I know you’re really worked up right now,” he counsels, voice soft and reassuring, using the nickname he knows Spencer loves the most to make him feel as safe as he can from 700 miles away, “but it’s probably not as bad as you think. From what you’ve told me about the team, they love you so much, and even in the case that in the past they've had some issue with gay people, I can't imagine they’d ever actually think of you any differently when it comes down to it, Spencer.”

He’s crying too hard to reply, and Oscar understands immediately, gently transitioning into a story about his day that slowly starts to calm him down, and by the time he’s wrapping it up, his tears are starting to subside.

“Thank you, Ozzy,” he whispers into the phone, lifting himself up off the floor and making his way to sit on the bed instead.

“You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs warmly. “Do you want me to stay on the phone for a bit?”

“Yes please,” he whispers again, holding it as close to himself as possible, drawing all the comfort he can from his boyfriend’s voice.

He lies there listening to Oscar’s voice and trying not to think about the disaster downstairs for a good ten minutes before there’s a tap at the door.

“Oz, there’s someone here,” he says, voice panicked.

“I think you should probably speak to them, baby,” he urges. “I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do, if you like?”

“Please.” He gets up from the bed gingerly, keeping his phone tightly gripped in his right hand as he slowly unlocks the door with his left, revealing Hotch on the other side.

“Hey, Spencer. Do you mind if I come in?”

He’s riddled with nerves, but Hotch is smiling warmly, and he’s never said a harsh word to Spencer, so he steps aside and lets him into his room.

Hotch quickly notices the phone in his hand, visibly still on a call. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Spencer nods.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?”

His brows knit in confusion and his lips part slightly in surprise, but it’s all he can do to hand the phone over, watching Hotch carefully.

“Hi, Spencer tells me this is his boyfriend?” Hotch inquires politely into the phone, his tone still warm. “I’m Hotch, Spencer’s boss.”

He can vaguely hear Oscar speaking on the other end of the line, and he worries slightly that Oscar will somehow give away the familial feelings he holds for Hotch, but the conversation doesn’t last long enough for the anxiety to really take over.

“Everything’s fine here, I just want to have a conversation with Spencer, so is it alright if we hang up and I talk to him alone for a minute? He can call you straight back afterwards.” After a brief pause in which Oscar says something, Hotch looks back up at him. “Are you okay with that, Spencer?”

He nods hesitantly, and Hotch says a quick goodbye to Oscar before surging forwards and wrapping Spencer in a hug. It catches him off guard, but he doesn’t waste any time in burying his face into Hotch’s neck and soaking in the comfort and warmth that always radiates from his father figure.

“Come on,” Hotch says softly as they pull away a good minute or so later, “let’s sit down, shall we?”

“You’re not mad?” Spencer can’t help but ask, the question burning his tongue as anxiety — however quietened from Hotch’s hug — still swims around in his stomach.

“There are many things that could make me mad, Spencer,” he says earnestly, “but this is not one of them. I would never be angry at you for being who you are, okay? I might… I might be overstepping here, and if I am, then tell me and I’ll back off, but I’ve always seen you as a mentee, and over the years that’s developed— well, I see you more as a son these days. And part of that is wanting to protect and support you no matter what you do or say or who you are.”

Spencer wastes no time in diving back in for a hug, clinging onto Hotch for dear life as he hugs back, rubbing his back gently.

“I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us sooner, Spencer,” he says in a voice soft with affection and regret. “But I’m so glad you’ve told us now.”

He only presses closer at that, tears springing back to his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He knows what he’s implying, and even in a roundabout way, he’s glad he’s telling Hotch.

“Oh, Spence,” he sighs sadly, “you couldn’t do a single thing to lose me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“Really?” he asks, hating how insecure he sounds.

“Really,” Hotch promises, pulling away as Spencer does. “Now, you have a whole team of agents downstairs who are feeling very sorry for themselves and really want to see you.”

Nausea rolls in his stomach and panic springs back up as he looks at Hotch, desperate for some sort of grounding. “Are they angry at me? Do they hate me now?”

“No one hates you, Spencer,” he says firmly. “I promise you that. Everyone just wishes that they’d made you feel more welcome and comfortable. We all hate that you felt you had to lock up something so integral to who you are, and we can’t help but feel we played a part in it.”

“No,” he protests — the last thing he wants is family blaming themselves when it has nothing to do with them, “it’s not your fault, it’s just…”

Hotch nods. “I understand, it’s okay. Now, do you want to go down and see them? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it might help ease your mind to see that they really don’t hate you.”

Spencer pauses, taking a moment to think. “Can I see Derek first?”

“Of course,” Hotch says understandingly, and the comforting smile that crosses his face makes Spencer feel safe and taken care of. “I’ll send him up?”

Spencer nods and Hotch hugs him once more before leaving the room almost reluctantly. He wastes no time in picking up his phone and sending a text to Oscar. You were right. Hotch is fine. He’s just sending Derek up before I go and see the team but he says that no one’s angry and I think I believe him. Thank you, Oscar. I love you.

Not even half a minute goes past before his phone lights up with a text back. I’m so glad, baby. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed. I love you more.

Before Spencer can argue that actually, he is the one more in love with the other, a hesitant knock sounds on his door. Nerves suddenly flip his stomach, and he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before forcing himself to cross the room, revealing a very worried and regretful-looking Derek.

“Oh, pretty boy,” he says sadly, before crushing Spencer in a warm and tender hug. Immediately, he relaxes into the arms of one of his best friends, and relief courses through his blood at Derek’s reaction. “I am so sorry that I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were gay or had a boyfriend. That’s completely on me. I don’t care who you love, Spencer, I just want you to be happy, okay? And if this guy makes you happy, then that’s fine by me. But if he ever lays a hand on you or—”

“Derek, Derek,” he laughs, “it’s fine I get it. Thank you, though, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier and for snapping at you in the bullpen that time…”

“I understand, Spence,” he promises. “It’s in the past, okay? And I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I mean, I’d love to meet him but if you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t want to, that’s fine, too. It’s your life, man.”

“No, I… I think I want you guys to meet him. It’s been so hard to keep him away from the people I consider my family, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe after Christmas, we can all have dinner or something.”

Spencer smiles shyly. “Well, Oscar’s a great cook, so I reckon we could work something out.”

Derek grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he immediately jumps back into teasing him as they make their way to the door to go downstairs and see the rest of the team. “Ooh, lover boy’s got him a chef, hey? What else does this Oscar have going for him?”

Spencer chatters eagerly about his boyfriend to Derek, barely skipping a beat when he joins everyone downstairs, his friends taking his cues and joining in with the conversation seamlessly. He’s had enough fuss for one night, and the warmth and understanding on everyone’s faces tells him everything he needs to know.

“Do you have any pictures of him?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow with eager expectancy as they all settle back into their seats by the fire, a warm and unbelievably happy feeling settling in Spencer’s stomach.

He blushes, digging out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. “More than a few, I think.”

He finds the most recent picture of his boyfriend — a candid shot of him cooking in the kitchen, spatula aloft, and a huge grin on his face — and hands the phone around.

“Oh wow, you like them buff, huh, pretty boy?” Derek teases as soon as he gets his hands on it, and Spencer’s stomach twists in a sudden bout of fear, expecting to see some hesitancy or even disgust on his friend’s face. What if he thinks that Spencer has a crush on him? What if he’s uncomfortable around him now?

But if Derek’s having any of those thoughts, they don’t show on his face. He’s smiling widely and openly, all the pent-up anxiety and frustration borne from hurt gone from his body language, and he looks completely comfortable sat next to Spencer, his arm stretched out behind him on the back of the sofa.

They sit happily around the fire for a couple of hours, settling into a happy, intimate familiarity Spencer hadn’t realised was missing when he was hiding something so integral to his being from his family, and he’s still smiling when they finally part ways to head to bed, the clock ticking closer and closer to 1 am.

He gets ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and throwing on the top he’d stolen from Oscar the first time he’d stayed at his place; a welcome change from his worn and wrinkled suit. As soon as his teeth are brushed and the lights are all off except for his bedside lamp, he pulls out his phone, knowing there’s one more thing he has to do before he goes to sleep.

“Spencer?” Penelope’s voice sounds down the line, clearly concerned. “It’s almost 2 am here, are you okay?”

“I’m gay,” he says, getting straight to the point. The main reason he ever kept it from her was because of his fear of it accidentally getting out to the team rather than fear over her reaction. After all, multiple of his drag queen friends are also hers.

“Oh my God,” she says in that small voice she uses when she’s not actually talking to you, before finally actually replying to me. “Spencer, I’m so happy you told me!”

He doesn’t miss her choice of words, or the way she says them and he tilts his head suspiciously. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry, a couple of months ago I saw a text from Oscar on your phone when you went to the bathroom during one of our Doctor Who marathons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship.”

“And… wait, you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”

“Spencer! Of course not. I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to share it with me. I felt awful that I knew without your consent but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to catch you off guard or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s fine that you waited, baby genius, I’m just so happy you told me now. What finally gave you the courage?”

“Well, it might have slipped out in front of the team this evening,” he admits sheepishly, “and the only reason I never told you was because I was scared that it would slip out somehow — accidentally, of course, I didn’t think you’d tell anyone on purpose — and now everyone knows. It’s been killing me not to tell you, Penelope, it really has because I love you so much and you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life, it’s just…”

“Whoa, slow down, Spence,” she laughs fondly, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. But I’m glad you finally told everyone and you can be yourself completely with us, now. We all love you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I do now.”

“Good. You should get some sleep, baby boy, it’s late and you’ve had an emotional evening.”

Spencer smiles. “Yeah, I know. You should, too, Pen. I’ll see you when we can finally make it home, okay? Love you.”

“Love you, too, 187,” she says softly, and Spencer can hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight.”

As soon as he hangs up, he settles down into the bed, turning off the light and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders before dialling one more number.

“Hey, baby,” Oscar says, voice as gentle and caring as it always is, although thicker with tiredness now. “I take it everything went okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, already feeling tired as the safety he always feels at the sound of Oscar’s voice settles into the fibres of his being. “It went so well. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

“I can’t wait either, sweetheart. Are you in bed now?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Can you talk to me as I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you, Spence,” he says softly, before transitioning seamlessly into a story about the professors on campus, and his gentle comfort and the knowledge of the unconditional love his family has for him finally lulls Spencer into the best sleep he’s had in weeks.

taglist : @criminalmindsvibez @moreidstrobed @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @temily @enbyspencer @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids (add yourself to my taglist via this form!!)

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable ( Jungkook x Oc ) Chapter 4

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!! 

Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3

Chapter 4

“Dearest, I am  appalled. “ My father said apologetically. “ Jungkook told me what happened at the dinner and I’m beginning to rethink this whole idea. These pups need to be on a leash , if they cannot control themselves to this extent.” 

I was curled up on the couch next to my dad, his fingers gently stroking my hair while he stared at the screen in front of us. It carried all the accounts of the mansion for the week and the numbers made my head swim . So I ignored it, eating the freshly baked macarons that  cook had sent up from the kitchen. 

My father occasionally consulted from a bunch of files spread out on the table in front of him and I shuddered again when I thought about Mingyu. 

“He was an awful choice father. I should have just told you to set things up with Yugyeom.” I grimaced. 

My father nodded at once.

“Of course dearest, I’ll talk to him myself and see if he’s free this weekend. Will that work for you?”

“thank you father.” I said brightly, curling up next to him.

For a few minutes, we both stayed quiet, him humming as he leafed through the files, me munching on a few ripe tangerine pieces. 

“What do you think of Jungkook?” My father said suddenly, making me cough. 

I swallowed, throat dry.

My father felt me stiffen against him and he chuckled. 

“Don’t panic, love. I am way too old not to recognize heartache when I see it. Especially in my own daughter. Your display at the breakfast table yesterday was quite unlike you and I realized, it’s not just a silly infatuation anymore, is it  ? ” He rubbed the back of his fingers on my cheek, soothing and gentle. 

I didn’t reply. 

“I think he’s a good...man.” I finished.

“Ahhh...” My father chuckled. “  Man.  Here I am , trying to foist you off on boys who’ve barely popped their fangs for the first time .... when it is obvious that what you need is someone reliable and in control. Therein lies the appeal, does it not, dearest? ” 

I flushed red, scrambling to sit up , and clutching the fabric of my skirt in a death grip. 

“It’s... it’s stupid. I’ll get over it.” I choked out. 

My father hummed. 

“Have you told him how you feel?” He asked gently and I stared at him.

“You’re not mad.?” I whispered.

My father chuckled.

“Why would I be mad?  I’ve known him for five whole centuries. He’s a fine, upstanding man. Jungkook is fair and strong. He is more than capable of taking care of you and the best part, you would be able to live here forever. I would be lucky to have him as my son in law.” He said firmly. 

I felt my body go lax in disbelief. 

“Somi .. Somi said...That you wouldn’t approve. Because he isn’t from a strong clan. ”

“Somi worries too much about what the others in our clan may say.  Especially your uncle. He’s coming back soon remember? “ My father grimaced. 

I felt a shiver run through me. 

“Uncle Jaebum? He’s coming back?” I whispered, terrified. 

My father hummed, kissing the side of my head.

“Yes he is, love. But don’t worry. I’ll handle him. Your uncle still believes that lineage plays some role in how a vampire turns out but couldn’t be more wrong. i mean , young Mr. Mingyu has single handedly proven  that theory wrong , hasn’t he?” My father shook his head, laughing, “  So tell me, has Jungkook agreed to court you?” 

I groaned. 

“He has categorically stated that he doesn’t want to court me.” I said softly.

My father laughed at that.

“That must’ve been a novel experience for you.” 

I pouted. 

“Father!” I whined. 

“Alright, alright ...dearest. I won’t tease. Did he say why? ” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. 

“Because I’m too young? Possibly.... He said something about carrying too much baggage and not wanting to ruin my life.” 

My father made a noise of impatience.

“The boy is an overthinker. He’s always been that way. He doesn’t look that way but he cares deeply about hurting others. It’s possible he’s only trying to protect you. Albeit in a very misguided way. “

“ Perhaps. But, whatever the reason, he’s not willing to court me. So, no. i don’t think he wants to be your son in law. I wish I could change his mind. ” I muttered, snuggling closer into him. 

“Ah, you know I can’t change his mind for you, don’t you flower? That’s your job...”

I sighed. 

“I know...” 

“If Jungkook does choose to court you. You will have my blessing. I will give you a wedding that will make the world watch in awe. “ He said firmly. 

i laughed. 

“Really? You made Somi marry Jimin in the barn on the estate.” I grinned. 

“Well, Don’t tell your brothers and sisters but you are my favorite after all. “ He whispered conspiratorially and I grinned. 

It was funny because I knew he wasn’t even lying. 

After my mother had left the clan, my father had taken on the role with enthusiasm. Unlike the head of clans all over the world, my father was approachable , friendly and deeply involved in his children’s lives. And he had always adored me. 

“And even if Jungkook doesn’t realize how amazing you are, remember that there are plenty of good men out there. I want you to be happy, dearest. I will not settle for anything less than your complete happiness. “ My father said fiercely and I hugged him closer. 

I loved this man too damn much. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ You’re so good at what you do, Sera .” Lee Minhyuk gave me a seductive smile as he watched me wrestle his one year old daughter into her booties with one hand while i kept the other wrapped around her to stop her from toppling backwards on the small seat. 

 How about you stop flirting and help me dress your daughter , you asshole, I thought angrily, grunting from the effort of crouching for long periods of time. 

When the fluffy blue fur boots were finally on, I gave little Cherin’s squishy thighs a soft squeeze, pressing a kiss to her perfect cheeks. 

“Good bye cherry berry...” I sang softly, waving gently as she hugged her father’s legs before being scooped up into his arms. 

“So, are you free this friday? We could get something to eat?” Minhyuk gave me a wink. 

His wife was out of town. 

I offered a polite smile in return. 

“I’m going to have to pass on that. I don’t date parents, Minhyuk ssi.” I bowed my head lightly. 

Minhyuk looked annoyed but his gaze flitted to the 6′3″ man behind me, and he didn’t push the subject, merely bowing before leaving. 

Behind me Jungkook cleared his throat. 

I turned and he gave me a slow, lazy smirk. 

“You don’t date parents? Does that mean we’re not on for tonight anymore?” His eyes danced with mirth, mischief glinting in the black orbs. 

I flushed red. 

“Stop it, “ i hissed peering over his shoulder to make sure none of the other workers in the daycare had heard him. 

Jungkook smiled a little at the panic in my face. 

“But then , it isn’t really a date is it? You only want my body.” He sighed deeply in faux disappointment. 

I gave him an impish smile.

“It is the best thing you have on offer....” I shrugged. 

He laughed.

“Fair enough. Did you tell your dad about Mingyu? ” He asked as the workers began to leave one by one. Joowon had left with some of the other kids earlier, Jimin and Somi having promised to take the kids in the clan out for icecream. 

I picked up the stray blocks, dropping them into the huge laundry basket repurposed as a toy bag. i got on my hands and knees to peer under the huge wooden dresser in the corner, looking for stray blocks or toys and picking a few. 

 My back screamed in protest and i wondered if I was going to spend the rest of eternity with an achy back. I was just too young to be feeling this old. 

Was Park Jimin onto something with the whole yoga and stretching and exercise and healthy eating ? Should I stop binge eating french fries and possibly start eating salads? 

I sighed, straightening up and twisting my torso a bit only to find Jungkook with his gaze leveled very obviously  on my ass. 

So much so he didn’t even notice I was looking at him. 

I cleared my throat and his gaze left my butt, meeting mine with an absolutely unrepentant look on his face. 

“What?” He shrugged. “ I’m just seeing what I’m going to be working with tonight .” 

I felt my face flame, hating the way an absolutely ridiculous smile was threatening to make its way onto my face. I turned away quickly, crawling on all fours to the next dresser and peering under it too. 

once all the toys were put away and I’d double checked the to do list on the board , We finally closed the day care down for the night. It was just  little past six and I stood by the door, watching while he carefully checked all the side gates and the backyard. 

Slipping the key into my backpack , I began the walk back to the mansion and he fell into step next to me. 

“You didn’t answer my question....” He said softly and I blinked.

“Oh?” I couldn’t remember. 

“ Did you tell your father what happened with Mingyu?”

“Did you?” I retorted. and he shrugged. 

“I had to give a complete play by play report. Your father was incredibly upset.” 

I chuckled. 

“He’s very protective of me..” I shrugged.

Jungkook went tellingly quiet.

I felt foreboding rise inside me. Jungkook inhaled sharply, obviously staring to say something but i cut him off quickly. 

“He likes you!!” I blurted out quickly. “ I mean..he approves of you... Told me he wouldn’t mind you being his son in law.” 

My lack of filter was going to get me  killed  one of these days. 

Jungkook however seemed more amused than annoyed. 

“Well, considering the kind of candidates in the race, I can see why he would prefer me. “ He laughed. 

I frowned. There was something smug in his tone that irked me. He shouldn’t get to be smug about something like that when he didn’t even want to be with me in the first place. 

“They’re not all clowns. Yugyeom is a great guy.” I said sharply.

Jungkook’s eyebrow shot up.

“Is it so?”

I nodded, honest. 

“He’s older... almost two centuries old now and he’s a good friend.” 

“Two centuries? How on earth did he become your friend?” 

“He was one of my tutors during college. So I kind of had a crush on him.... It was all exciting .... You know, teacher and student .....forbidden love and all that “ I smiled. 

Jungkook gave me a cheeky smile. 

“Ahh...ever sucked his dick off under the desk? Or dreamed of it at least? ” He asked casually and I choked.

“ What? “ 

“Why do you look so shocked? isn’t that the most common of fantasies?“

I glared at him .

“No... I did not. That’s indecent.” 

He stopped walking. 

I walked a few steps ahead and paused, turning to stare at him. 

“What?” I demanded. 

“Sera , what the actual fuck do you think we’re going to be doing tonight?” He asked thoughtfully. 

I spluttered . 

“I... Its different. I was too young back then. Of course I know what you’re going to do tonight.” I said impatiently, turning around to keep going. 

But his hand shot out, gripping my arm and pulling me to him. I crashed into his chest, gripping the fabric to steady myself. 

“For someone who was so eager to have me show her the ‘ ropes’ , you’re quite intent on running from me, anytime i bring it up.” He whispered. 

i stared resolutely at his chest, refusing to meet his eyes. It wasn’t that I was shy per se. But just looking at his face made me lose my braincells. 

“I’m not running away. I just....” Don’t want to read too much into your flirting. Your teasing. Your interest in me. I have to keep my heart safe and I can’t do that with you offering me all of your attention....

“Don’t be nervous, alright? I’ll take good care of you.” He smiled softly. 

 God, I hated this man. 

I could feel heat pool in my belly, spreading all over my body and the urge to throw myself into his arms was so overwhelming.

“I know you will. “ I said softly, finally looking up at him, pressing my palm to his face. “ You’re a good man. A kind man. I knew the minute I saw you that you’d take good care of me. ” 

The words seemed to affect him and he bit his lips, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand away from his face.  

“We should go.” He said shortly, pushing away from me and walking away briskly. 

“Who’s the one running now, Jeon Jungkook?!!!” I yelled after him and he flipped me off without turning around. 

Laughing, I ran to catch up with him again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At 10.55 , I stood outside Jungkook’s room, nervous but eager.

 It wasn’t even the prospect of sex, I thought giddily. Just the idea of spending time with him, of listening to him talk, of having him at touching distance .....it was so intoxicating. 

I knocked lightly. 

Jungkook opened the door , a smile on his face and it was jarring, how young he looked like this. 

He was clearly fresh out of the shower. Hair wet and and still dripping a little, he was dressed in a grey hoodie, the sleeves rolled up to show his veiny forearms and grey sweatpants, hands tucked into his pockets as he shook his hair out of his eyes. 

It was a futile action and all it really did was send water droplets flying all around. 

I blinked against the unexpected spray, water clinging to my lashes and my cheeks. 

“Hey!! “ I protested. “ Are you a puppy? Use a towel like the rest of the world.” I mumbled. 

He laughed. 

“Come in, princess.” He grabbed my wrist, tugging gently and I stepped into his room, looking around eagerly. 

He closed the door behind us and I heard him pull the dead bolt into place before turning the key as well.

No interruptions then.....

Good. 

“Your room is actually bigger than mine.” I frowned, noting the big four poster bed, complete with a white curtained canopy. I let my gaze fall to the clean white sheets and my mind flashed back to the beautiful Helena, sprawled on the bed in nothing but her underwear. 

I swallowed the bitter jealousy that threatened. 

Hands wrapped around my waist from behind and he hugged me close, the warmth of his chest heavy and amazing on my body. I jumped a little when i felt the gentle press of his lips on the curve of my neck. 

“You sure about this? We don’t have to do anything at all tonight. We can kiss a little, watch a movie and sleep. But you’re a big girl so I’m gonna let you call the shots.” He lightly grabbed a huge chunk of my hair, lifting it out of the way before kissing the back of my neck. 

“Uh...” I stared straight ahead, already half aroused. “I want....to feel good.” 

He laughed against my skin, his hold around me tightening. 

“That can be arranged.” He said hotly, teeth nipping  at my skin before he gently turned me around in his arms. 

I looked up at him, drinking in his gorgeous face and he hummed, eyes narrowed as though in deep thought. 

“Bed?” He prompted and it was ridiculous, how one word could turn me on that bad. I nodded, making to move but he surprised me, crouching and grabbing the back of my thighs, pulling me up so easily, that I shrieked. I wrapped my thighs around his waist, more by instinct than intent and he laughed at the look on my face. 

“This always gets the ladies going.” He winked and I flushed. 

“Show off...” I muttered, lightly punching his shoulders and he shrugged.

“I don’t hit the gym five times a week to  not  show off darling.” he drawled, walking over to the bed and tossing me on the mattress. I bounced off the surface, squawking in surprise and I scrambled to sit up but he was already grabbing the hem of his hoodie and tossing it off. 

I’d never seen him shirtless but before I could fully appreciate the view, he was climbing on the bed. He grabbed my ankles, tugging me away from the head board and I landed on my back with an oof. 

“Ow. You’re being entirely too careless with me. “ I protested. 

He crawled forward on his knees, closer and closer till he was throwing one leg over my body, straddling my waist. 

“Thought you wanted to be put in your place.” He reminded me and I grinned up at him. 

“I think I’m right where I want to be. Under you.” I said honestly and he nodded.

“It’s where you belong.” He whispered, taking me entirely by surprise .

 My heart began pounding a familiar ache, a familiar pang. I knew it was an illusion. He didn’t for a second believe I belonged here but it was hard not to believe him, when he was hovering over me , looking like a fallen angel. 

God, don’t get emotionally invested. He doesn’t actually mean it, you fool. 

“Kiss me.” I held my arms up and he lowered himself carefully, keeping his weight off me as he kissed me, soft and gentle. I let my fingers tangle in the damp ebony locks, tugging gently as he angled himself better, tongue begging entrance. 

The heady mint taste of him, sent me into over drive and I wrapped both my legs around his waist, pulling him down. 

I took a second to just take him in.

The scent of his skin against mine, clean and woody, slightly sweaty, but mostly just musky. The smell of a man . The weight of him on my body, the hardness of his arousal evident even through the sweatpants. He pulled back to stare at me, his fingers brushing my cheeks. 

“You have perfect lips for kissing. Lush and plump. Like tiny pillows I can sink my teeth into.” He whispered, catching my lower lip between his teeth and tugging. 

“You have beautiful nipples. I want to lick them some day. .” I breathed, running my thumb on the curve of his cheek bones. 

Jungkook stared at me in complete shock for a second and then  laughed . 

“Thats.... a new one. Jesus. “ he shook his head, almost in disbelief. 

“Sorry.” I flushed and he waved off my apology. 

“You wanted to feel good right? Shall I start?” His eyes twinkled. 

I nodded, way too eagerly and he laughed harder. 

“Okay, let’s get you out of these clothes, princess. “  He grabbed my arm, pulling me up to a sitting position before gently tugging the t shirt off my chest. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath and his breath caught s he stared at my breasts.

He stared at them for a second, swallowing before, glancing at me .

“Beautiful.” He said, voice deep and husky. 

“Thank you .” I said primly. 

He laughed again and shook his head.

“I can’t remember ever laughing so much before sex. This is so weird.” 

“Weird bad?” i asked, nervous.

He shook his head.

“Weird good.” He leaned in, kissing my cheek just as he hooked his thumbs into my shorts, pulling them down easily and leaving me completely naked. “ Weird adorable.” 

I crossed my legs, drawing my knees up at once, feeling devastatingly shy. 

His eyes softened. 

“You want me to turn off the lights? “ He asked gently. 

“Yes please.” I said desperately and he nodded, quickly climbing off the bed and fumbling with the light switches. He left a single light on , near the closet. It left the rest of the room dimly lit. 

“Am I the first one to see you like this?” He asked, rubbing his hands together before climbing onto the bed again. 

“Um... after the age of ten, yes.” I laughed nervously. 

He hummed. 

“You’re gorgeous. Toss me that pillow.” He pointed to the one next to my head and i handed it to him.

“Lie down for me darling.” He smiled. 

I hesitated, closing my eyes tight just because it was overwhelming, seeing him in front of me , shirtless and being naked in front of him. 

I laid back slowly, knees still pulled up and feet on the bed, thighs pressed together. 

My heart was pounding , less from nerves and more from sheer anticipation. I’d waited long enough for this to truly feel nervous or want to back out. 

And the fact that it was with Jungkook... I’d pretty much hit the jackpot in first time experiences. 

Hands on my knees made my eyes fly open and I found myself staring up into his face.

“You okay?” He asked gently. 

i nodded.

“Let me between your legs?” He asked sweetly. 

I felt the blood rush to my face, my legs shaking as I spread my knees and thighs, enough to give him space between them. His fingers closed around my ankle lightly, gentle as he ran his hands up and down my legs. 

“Relax alright. You wanted to feel good and I’m going to make you feel good. The only thing you need to do is... well.. feel.” He smiled, impish bunny teeth bright even in the darkened room. 

I nodded, closing my eyes. 

“Don’t wanna watch?” He teased and I shook my head. My pulse kicked up at the very thought of it. 

Jungkook wasn’t anything like I’d imagined, I thought miserably. He had been attractive as the stoic, serious man who wanted to do the right thing but like this : naught and flirty and charming , he was absolutely devastating and i wasn’t sure i could come out of this unscathed. 

I couldn’t fight the feeling that I was making a huge mistake . that this whole thing was going to end with my heart ripped to shreds....

His lips against my forehead pulled me out of my thoughts and I swallowed. 

“I’m going to touch you.” He said softly and I shuddered when his hands closed over my breasts, gentle but firm, kneading the flesh very slowly, thumbs rubbing back and forth on the nipples till they tightened. 

I bit my lips to stop myself from crying out, the sensation overwhelming and foreign because it was someone else’s fingers and not my own. 

“Hey... “ one soft finger pressed against my lips, parting them gently and i sobbed out loud. “ None of that.... You should be as loud as you want to...how else will I know if I’m getting the job done?” 

“You’re getting it done..” I choked out, shaking all over and his kissed my lips again, quick and hard. 

“So beautiful.” He murmured, lips pressing kisses down my chest and across my breasts.

“Since you wanted to lick my nipple, let me uh...return the favor? In advance ?” He laughed against my skin and I inhaled sharply when he nipped at the fleshy mound. 

His lips closed around my nipples, the suction gentle but his tongue wet and insistent .

I went completely still, my hands flying to his hair and gripping so hard he grunted . My hips lifted off the bed at the sensation, every nerve ending on fire as he kept suckling and licking and god, his teeth...he was using his teeth to bite down on the nub... making me thrash my hips , my body completely overwhelmed . 

He kept his lips over the peak, licking the tip over and over till it was tender and wet and hard . He used his hands to knead the other side, thumb rubbing insistently on the neglected nub and I felt my toes curling into th mattress, my arms drooping to loop around his neck as he began to move his hips as well, grinding down on to my thigh. 

I was going to black out from having my nipple played with, I thought vacantly.

“Probably won’t feel this good for me but I’m glad you like it.” He laughed again and I loved the sound of it. Loved that he seemed to be enjoying this too. And I wanted him to enjoy it. Wanted to make him feel good too.

So I let my hand drop, down to his waist and then to the front of his pants.

He froze over me. 

“Sera-”

“I want to.” I said desperately, knowing what he was going to say.  . “ Please , let me touch you too-”

“Hey hey...shush..”He kissed me again quick and heady. “ Remember what I said? You call the shots.... “ He pressed another kiss to the corner of my lips. “ Want me to take off my sweats?” 

I nodded, “ Yeah.” 

He wiggled out of his pants quickly and i cursed myself for wanting the lights turned off. 

I hesitated, rubbing my palm on his pecs and tracing the muscles down to his tightly packed abs and then hesitating. 

“You can touch.” He said hotly and I swallowed, letting my fingers flutter down between his gloriously thick thighs. His skin was smooth and hard , like silk over steel and I let my fingers go lower, past the light dusting of hair to the thick, rigid length of him , my fingers closing over the hardness of his cock. 

Jungkook jerked forward, head burying into the pillow near my head and he swore.

“Fuck...” He sounded strangled and I laughed , gripping him harder but not a lot because I wasn’t sure how much was too much. .

“I have no idea what I’m doing...” I admitted weakly , loosening my grip a little to stroke up and down over the length of his cock. 

“Fuck.. just the fact that you’re doing it is going to make me cum.” He choked out and I laughed, ridiculously flattered.  

He grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away.

“Lick it.” He said softly. 

I went still, my brain grinding to a halt.. Lick....??

 My eyes went wide.  

And so did his.

“Your palm.” He choked out. “ Lick your palm not my..... Your palm. It’s too dry.” 

Oh..  oh.

Lick my palm. Not his cock. Right. Got it. 

“Okay...”I drew my hand up and hesitated , unsure . Jungkook watched me like a hawk, eyes trained on my mouth and I bit my lips, cupping my palm and spitting into it, twice for good measure. feeling absolutely filthy.

“Fucking hell.” He breathed as I took my hand down to his cock again, wrapping my hand around it and it did feel better, easier to jerk him off with the lubrication. I moved my hands up and down , with  no rhythm and Jungkook gritted his teeth. 

“Okay... I’m gonna.. “He shivered a little when I tentatively pressed my thumb to the head, surprised to find him wet , on the top. I gathered the moisture around his slit, spreading it all over the head of his cock, using my fingers to rub circles over the crown , fingers tracing the thick vein on the underside. 

 inside me. This is going to be inside me. 

 I felt my thighs shake, my insides clenching, wetness dribbling out of me as I squirmed. 

“Please... Jungkook , I...”

“I got you...” He whispered, grabbing my hand and pulling it away from his cock. 

“hey-” I pouted but he shook his head. 

“If you don’t keep your hands off,  this'll all be over before it even begins,.” He said dryly. 

I closed my eyes again, my nerves picking up. 

“Listen...” He said suddenly and I blinked, staring at him. “ I’m going to get you wet...” Oh, god, “ With my tongue.” 

My entire body went taut. 

“I..”

“It’ll make it easier... trust me. And It’ll feel good. Wasn’t that the goal today? “ He tossed me a wink, squeezing my thighs a bit. He moved back and grabbed the pillow.

“Lift your hips up for me.” He said gently and I raised my butt, jerking when he folded the pillow in half and pushed it under my hips. And the he was crawling backwards, till his face hovered over my belly button.

“Throw your legs over my shoulders....” He said briskly, gripping my thighs , one in each and spreading my legs apart. I did as he asked, the back of my knee resting on the hard muscles of his broad shoulders and i raised my head a bit to peer down at him. 

The sight of jungkook’s gorgeous fucking face between my thighs got seared into my head and I fell back, already overwhelmed. 

He pressed a soft kiss to my thigh, a little nip my skin and then sucked the skin at the juncture of my hip and thigh. He was breathing in suddenly, a loud, shuddering inhale.  His breathing wavered and i felt the sharp pin prick of teeth. 

“Shit..”He pulled back and I jumped a little, watching him struggle. He glanced at me and I saw the flash of white between his lips. He’d dropped fang...and was clearly struggling to get them to retract. 

“You can do it..” I said feverishly. “ Jungkook , you can.... Drink.” 

He shook his head and glanced up at me and the look in his eyes made me startle .... because it looked like he was going to get up, move away , possibly call off this whole thing and no...no that was absolutely not going to happen. 

I was not letting him back out of this. 

He tried to move, but I grabbed his hair, yanking his mouth back to my thigh. 

“Fucking do it...” I snapped angrily and his eyes widened at my tone, “  do it and then fuck me , Jungkook or I swear to God I’ll  -” 

Sharp, sharp pain lanced through my spine as he bit down, fangs piercing my skin with ease and I felt the rush of liquid as it left my body, filling his mouth as he gulped. 

His venom worked its magic, the pain dulling to a throb, a pleasant heady intoxication....meant to make the bleeding out painless, meant to make death pleasant for the prey but for me it was just pleasure.

 Pleasure because he could have his fill and I would still be able to give him more. 

Pleasure because with me, he could indulge himself, as much as he wanted without worrying about the consequences. 

Jungkook groaned against my thighs, his shoulders shaking as he drank and I stroked his hair, petting the dark strands as I fought the slight lightheadedness, knowing that it would pass soon. 

Jungkook sucked deeper and I parted my legs moaning when my head began to spin, and then I felt his fingers touch my center, parting my folds , spreading the wetness all over his fingers before his thumb pressed down on my clit, rubbing insistently. I felt myself dripping all over the sheets, so wet and swollen and throbbing... 

“Oh, god yes... That feels so good, Jungkook .. I...” I gasped  as he slipped one long finger in, deep and without any resistance. The warm wetness in my thigh began spreading and I heard him groan as he sucked harder, drinking me down like i was the finest wine. 

“Another... give me more...please...” 

He moaned, still drinking, still shaking as he pressed another finger in next to the previous one, deeper still, searching and stroking, tracing every ridge inside me, curling just right, and rubbing down on that spot inside me...the one I could never quite reach by myself. 

Jungkook inhaled sharply, his fang sinking in just a little deeper as he latched on tighter and my legs shook as I cried out. 

He hummed, using one hand to rub soothing circles on my thigh, while he rubbed his thumb across my clit , hard and the gentle and then hard again until it throbbed and ached , over and over again and I was sure the little nub was bruised, that I wouldn’t be able to touch it for a while without wincing. 

I was gushing , my arousal so strong that the sheets were soaked, wet and so damp and the sensation of his fingers, thick and deep inside me while his fangs bit down harder, while he fed from me, was just too much...too much. 

I exploded around his fingers , my orgasm so strong that my hips lifted right off the bed, and he fucked me through it, fingers pounding in and out of my wet swollen walls as he pulled away, fangs retracting and I struggled to get on my elbows , to get a look at him.

He looked completely wrecked, fangs still half out, lips red and dripping blood , eyes flashing scarlet and blazing with lust so potent , I felt my insides churn.,,. i stared at him as I clenched over his fingers and he closed his eyes, shoulders shaking as he tried to get his bearings but I grabbed his shoulders, scrabbling to pull him up and closer. 

“Inside!” I choked out as he tried to get up, looking punch drunk and out of it.” Get inside me.”

“Sera... you’re...” He was slurring his words and I cried out in sheer frustration, scrabbling to my knees and pushing him down till he was flat on the bed. 

 “ Please i need it... need your cock inside me Jungkook, fuck...”  I begged, my thighs aching and walls clenching from how desperately I wanted to be filled. I stuck my hand between my legs , gathering as much of my wetness as I could before gripping his cock, coating him in my arousal.

 There was something so filthy about his hard, thick cock covered in my juices that made my mouth water. I wanted to swallow him down, to feel his cock hit the back of my throat but I wanted him inside me too. 

Maybe next time. 

“Please....Please can I sit on your cock?!! “ i choked out, fully gone. Jungkook groaned at my words. 

“Yes.. fuck... Do it.. Come on baby, take what you want from me.” he whispered.  and I scrambled up to straddle his thighs. Gripping the base of his cock, I pressed the tip against my entrance, closing my eyes to brace myself, digging my knees into the mattress for leverage before sinking straight down . 

“Oh, fuck....” I shuddered, my entire body thrumming as he pressed in, the hard length of him cleaving me so easily there was absolutely no pain to even register. It was just new. Different. 

And so so exhilarating. 

I sank all the way down till my ass hit the hardness of his thighs. 

And then I couldn’t move anymore. My body shook with tremors and My hands began trembling. 

“Jungkook...please... I..”

He responded by reaching out and gripping me thighs.

“Look at me baby...!” He said sharply and I stared down at his sweat slicked face. His eyes flashed red for a second and then he tugged me down, till i was lying flat on his chest. His arms came around my waist, anchoring me in place. 

“Gonna give it to you good. Just stay still yeah?” He breathed against my ear as i buried my face in the crook of his neck. And then he was rolling us both over, till I was flat on my back, his hand closing over my thigh, spreading my legs apart as he pistoned straight in. 

We were both too far gone for any semblance of a rhythm and I stopped trying to move, merely wrapping my arms around his neck, clinging on as he fucked into me, so hard that I could feel him in my gut. I felt my hips ache from the sheer force of his thrusts, my thighs cramping from how wide he had me spread and my clit throbbing from the way his cock dragged across it with every thrust. 

Pleasure swelled, again, this time stringer and I stopped fighting to make it happen, sinking back and letting it crash over me , like a wave breaking over the cliffs. 

Jungkook groaned as I exploded around him, my walls clenching around his cock and milking him and he shuddered in my arms, his cock twitching inside me as he came, filling me up . 

I gripped his shoulders, clinging to him as he trembled through the aftershocks. I felt my walls clenching, over and over again and Jungkook gave me a strangled moan.

“Too much...baby.. please stop... “ He begged and I froze, realizing that he was too sensitive and wanted to pull out. 

“sorry...sorry... “ I willed my walls to stop clenching and he made a noise of sheer exhaustion as he pulled out of me. 

I watched as he rolled off me, collapsing on his back, breathing hard. 

I stared up at the ceiling, feeling the wet mess of his cum, drip out of me and onto the sheets. I had the sudden made urge to stick my finger down there , scoop it up and taste it but I tamped it down. 

“Well.” I began.... 

He turned to look at me. 

I turned to him, still trying to catch my breath. 

“I’m not a virgin anymore.” I grinned wide. 

He groaned and ran a finger over his face. 

“Congratulations, Princess.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note :  Please i need holy water. 

feedback is love. If you don’t tell me you loved this fic i will not write smut anymore. 

taglist :  

@ladyartemesia        @veronawrites   @alpaca1612     @bonyg    @unseejuice21  @sppvjj     @ggukkieland     @tae-by-tae      @blr1004      @yoongichild    @stussyjeon  @jellybearo​   

[watevermelon]

Fate | Kageyama Tobio x Reader (One-shot)

✧ Summary: For years you watched Kageyama grow - from his time as king of Kitagawa Daiichi to the seemingly aloof setter on Karasuno. Your lives were a set of near misses; distant friends, but never getting any closer. You figured that once you entered Shiratorizawa High that it would be the end of your friendship. Thankfully, it was only the beginning.

➳ Tags: Slight Oikawa x Reader; Fluff with very minimal angst; Reader transfers from Seijoh to Shiratoriazawa so there’s drama; I love Oikawa but oooF this is not a good fic of him ➳ A/N: Captain-Sama! In the groupchat is the username for the female captain of Shiratorizawa and do you know da wae is the reader’s lmao

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As much as Oikawa complained about him, you understood Kageyama Tobio to a certain extent.

You spotted the setter during your shared time at Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High, him being one year your junior. There was no doubt the genius and pure talent that was coursing through his veins - he was surely going to make whichever high-school he attended proud.

You had the same position as him on the women's volleyball team and served as vice-captain in your second-year, alongside a third-year who held their head just as high.

There was nothing more scary than the thought of looming talent, creeping up on you until you were rendered absolute. Oikawa, you were sure, had felt that since the moment Kageyama was placed as an alternate setter during his first-year. It was a daunting feeling, to work on something at all hours of the day and know that there was someone who could easily render it all worthless.

But that did not mean it was fair to treat the poor first-year that way.

Iwaizumi was the senpai Kageyama deserved, but the blueberry held a strange respect for the setter two years his senior. No matter how much of a jerk Oikawa proved to be, through his biting words or taunting nature to the other setter, that did not change how amazing of an all-around player Oikawa was. And that made Kageyama respect him even more.

You respected Kageyama's genius, even helping him personally with his jump-serves, but there was no doubt that he heavily relied on Oikawa's example.

You wondered how long that would last.

Oikawa progressed to Aobajōsai High School at the end of the year. And, to everyone's surprise and obvious disapproval, you did not advance to the white-and-blue signature colors of the school that most Kitagawa Daiichi students went to.

The vice-captain and later full captain of the women’s Kitagawa Daiichi Junior High volleyball team was not going to Aobajōsai.

You would be branded a traitor by the lesser students, people who served as your other teammates that you were not close to. But your friends around you knew just who much you worked hard and aspired to have this academic achievement. You, in the depths of your hearth, admitted that you wanted to be on a team that almost guaranteed victory, with teammates who you could conduct and control the game with.

Unlike what many had hoped, you were going to Shiratorizawa Academy.

Your grades were well above average, actually landing you in the top five in your class among your entire graduating year. What stood you out among the endless crowds of talented setters, beyond your unending potential, was your already rounded ability as an aggressive server. Your jump-serves were better than the other first years in your newly minted class (an ability that came as a perk of being a certain Oikawa Tōru's friend).

Given both an academic and sports scholarship, you flashed a blinding smile at your junior high graduation, parents and friends clapping at your achievements.

You felt blessed to have such supportive parents, ones who, despite their busy work schedules, still attempted to attend your major volleyball games. And had vocally voiced to you their approval of your wanting to go to Shiratorizawa, offering to pay for it out of pocket if you had not received a scholarship.

You could not ask for better parents than these.

Shiratorizawa Academy handed you a new ass - giving an entirely new meaning to practice and torture. 

You accepted the position as alternate to the regular setter with a smile, happy to just be on the bench and not cheering from the stands. If anything, the first few months of Shiratorizawa showed you that you had so much more to learn.

But you were eager for the challenge.

A particular practice match with the women's team from Itachiyama Academy solidified your need for much more training. You wanted to be a reliable pillar to the team, for whatever role you needed to sub into for the game. Whether it be just as a pinch server or when the regular setter was sick, you wanted to demonstrate the winning attitude that came with being a student to a school of absolute victors.

You spent your first-year training nonstop, your fellow first-year students surprised at your youthful vigor and unending stamina. But you had to prove yourself better than reliable, that you were going to uphold the Shiratorizawa standard for setters and more if you wanted to be a regular.

You related to Shirabu and Kawanishi, fellow students in your year who were keen on becoming regulars to the men’s volleyball team. Both you and Shirabu had not attended Shiratorizawa Junior Academy, instead coming from separate junior high's that were considered lesser. Because of this, you two came in ‘brand-new’ with no friends or experience with the school personally. Shirabu grew to have an obvious close relationship with Kawanishi, but you found yourself gravitating toward them every once in a while, as well.

The rivalry between your school and Seijō took the back-burner during your training. You would see some of your previous friends when there were practice matches between your schools and you made an effort to text and even hang with some of them if given the time, but volleyball man. 

It was hard to manage your academic workload alongside giving more than one-hundred percent in your sport.

When the Interhigh-Preliminaries rolled around, you watched from the stands as second-year Oikawa Tōru had already taken the helm as vice-captain and regular setter of the Aobajōsai volleyball team. You were silently proud of your brunet senpai, despite how gaudy and annoying he could be, there was no denying Oikawa’s obvious skill and love for the sport.

The rivalry between specifically Ushijima and your previous senpai ran bone-deep and it was easily palpable to everyone watching the match, even more so to you, who sat at least a hundred feet away but knew both young men personally now.

After the game, you went down and put a comforting hand on Oikawa's shoulder, who gave a small grimace at the motion before fully standing to look at you. It was easy to morph your appearance and identity with the other students adorned with purple tracksuits, (since not matter who, they all annoyed the hell out of him) but Oikawa remembered your face personally from Kitagawa Daiichi.

The two of you were not especially close during junior high, but definitely friends that would often converse on a daily basis. Since you were the vice-captain of the women's team while Oikawa was captain of his, you often shared your personal woes and experiences. 

You even had a shared extra-curricular class in some science-related subject (you knew he was a closeted nerd, no matter how much he denied it). He was definitely a friend of yours, but you never truly knew what was going on in that head of his.

Oikawa’s eyes widened at recognizing your face, before dropping down the bold font of your school's name at the front of your jacket.

"And here I was, wondering if you had moved or died." Oikawa started with a small smirk, "This is much worse."

You lightly punched at his shoulder and then sighed, "Believe it or not, even though you're such a nuisance, I missed you."

Oikawa smiled, but then held a hand over his heart in feigned offense. "Nuisance?"

"I missed you, big oof." You put a loose arm under his and wrapped it around his middle in a side-hug, surprising the brunet who quickly returned the action. "I'm proud of how far you've come.

He rolled his eyes and attempted to pull away, "I don't need you to baby me."

"I won't." You stated in a firm voice, "But I do know you will continue to do whatever it takes to destroy my school."

Oikawa looked at you, fully peered at your countenance as he soaked in your words, before nodding in affirmation. You shared more words of conversation, catching up between friends who had not seen each other in a whole year, before he returned back to his team.

Like the previous Seijō captain, you were relentless in your training during your first-year. You wanted nothing more than to be the regular setter on your team. It was not enough being the sub, even as a first-year, you wanted to prove your abilities on the center-court in an official game.

The regular setter was a third-year, with graduation looming around the corner. Both you and your second-year counterpart were eyeing the position with eager eyes, but your work ethic did not fail you.

GroupChat: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼ д ͡༽୨

07:57   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )             welcome aboard (L/N)!!

07:57   From: Captain-Sama!             congrats (L/N)!

07:57  From: do you know da wae            aw thanks! But it wasn’t without the help of the team (✿ ♥‿♥)

07:57  From: do you know da wae            also congrats to shirabu and kawanishi!

07:58   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )             i ship it

07:58   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            thank you and you too

07:58   From: Captain-Sama!             but there’s three of them

07:58   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩            thanks b + you 2

07:58   From: the most tender Salami             ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

07:58   From: the most tender Salami             Also yah congrats but im watching you

There was no question that every eye of both the men’s and women’s volleyball teams were now scanning the shared groupchat with narrowed eyes. The newly formed regular positions were just released this morning and everyone was eagerly anticipating to see their names announced.

You were thankful that the women’s captain was so friendly, offering congratulations for your achievement, unlike many other envious third-years who were now sitting on the bench.

You were pronounced as the regular setter in your second-year, your older senpai inwardly sneering at the pronouncement. Nothing was set in stone and no player was ever safe in their position, (unless of course you were Ushijima Wakatoshi), but your older teammate knew better than to waver in their own training.

Which is why you were not personally offended when the kind-hearted, Semi Eita, did not add to the numerous amounts of congrats to you and the two other second-year boys. You were grouped together with Shirabu and Kawanishi, newly minted second-years now inaugurated into regular positions on a renowned team. There was no doubt that there was a hint of envy and competition within Shiratorizawa now.

07:59   From: Captain-Sama!             don’t be rude salami this is a congrats thread

07:58   From: Ushiwaka-sama             You will all surely be assets to our team

7:58     From: do you know da wae             Thank you!! ❤⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )

08:00   From: Coconut-head            congrats to all the second-years! 

08:00   From: Coconut-head             ໒( ♥ ◡ ♥ )७

You saw the multiple indicators that someone was typing, suddenly come to a complete stop. 

Goshiki Tsutomu was the rare case of a student abounding with natural talent and enthusiasm. Yes, there were tons of students blessed with a general aptitude for volleyball. But what set him apart was his humble attitude and willing manner to learn and keep being molded. He was growing to be the product of all his older teammates, since he had no previous sense of style to retain.

Goshiki Tsutomu would surely grow to be Shiratorizawa’s ace. 

But right now, he was an enthusiastic first-year trying to overcome the overwhelming shadow of Ushijima Wakatoshi.

It undoubtedly set off the tempers of multiple (now) third-years. You even felt the crawl of envy at the young man. You were only granted a regular spot in your second-year. And yet this first-year had already overcome your personal feat. You knew, in the more comprehensive parts of your mind, that Goshiki earned his role and there was no excusing your petty behavior.

So, with a deep sigh, your fingers swiped across the keyboard.

08:05   From: do you know da wae             Congrats to you too, Goshiki-kun! (♥‿ ♥ ) ~

08:00   From: Coconut-head            thank you senpai!!

The captain of the women’s team, along with Yamagata and Ushijima, added in their own forms of congratulations to the growing thread on the chat. But there was no doubt that the atmosphere was suddenly even more tense with the addition of Goshiki’s words. You could not blame anyone; you knew first-hand how much you worked and literally slaved for your position on the starting block.

Every regular on the team worked their way to their position – that was a fact no one could ignore.

But they had to learn to live with it.

You spent most of your time getting integrated with your fellow teammates, thoughts of Kitagawa Daiichi taking a much further backburner than before. You heard the distant yet familiar names of Oikawa and Iwaizumi often make their way into conversation. There was no doubt that you loved your friends, but they were your rivals now. 

And you had no hesitation in recounting their abilities and weaknesses when both Reon and the infamous Guess Monster had asked you.

It also helped that you were once the captain of the women’s team and knew them better than anyone had before. Which also helped you exploit their weakness – another additive that the coach had taken to account when putting you on the starting block.

But there was another label that, in particular, stood out as you approached your second Interhigh-Preliminary as a student of Shiratorizawa.

Freak quick duo.

You were familiar with the several different nicknames that promulgated the Miyagi volleyball scene – great king, guess monster, little giant, super volleyball idiot (but that was more of an inner joke between Shiratorizawa students).

It was strange to you, that Kageyama had not yet made an appearance at Shiratorizawa Academy. He surely had the volleyball forte and physical ability to be the most skilled setter in the Prefecture, but you chalked it up to his grades or brisk personality that may have weighed him down.

But when Kageyama was not even present for the practice match between Seijō and your own school, it made you wonder if he had dropped off the face of the planet. For students who were seriously pursuing their sport, it was not a surprise for them to travel abroad to train. But you doubted Kageyama of all people would do so, his English was terrible.

Usually students from your junior high would immediately accept the invitation to Aobajōsai, a private school seconded only by Shiratorizawa. The few unique instances against this was yourself, but there was no sight of Kageyama at your school. 

So where on earth was he?

Both of Seijō’s teams, men’s and women’s, were coming for the match and the annual start of their explosive rivalry. It was strange for you, to now experience both sides of the Oikawa and Ushijima relationship. You had been on Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s side not too long ago, seeing Ushijima’s brute words that you had taken, at the time, as sarcastic and extremely biting. 

It was funny how now, knowing Ushijima personally, you knew the poor spiker only had volleyball in his heart and mind – oblivious to how offensive his words could really be.

09:34   From: the most tender Salami           enemy spotted Attached: brunet.jpg, ihatethisguy.jpg

09:34   From: Ushiwaka-sama           He should’ve gone to Shiratorizawa

09:34   From: the most tender Salami           lmao he can’t hear you waka-kun

09:34   From: Ushiwaka-sama           That does not make it any less true

09:35   From: Captain-Sama!           Wait

09:35   From: Captain-Sama!           WAIT

09:35   From: the most tender Salami           ????

09:35   From: Captain-Sama!           wait Attached: screenshot.jpg

09:35   From: the most tender Salami           WHAT

09:36  From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           That’s literally just a zoomed in version

09:36   From: the most tender Salami           um that’s SHIRATORIZAWA’S (F/N) with the enemy

09:36   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩            I mean she did go to Kitagawa Daiichi

09:36   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            wait she’s Oikawa’s student ???

09:37   From: Captain-Sama!            and now it all makes sense

09:37   From: Ushiwaka-sama            even his student has the good sense in coming to Shiratorizawa

09:37   From: the most tender Salami               LMAO you have no chill

09:37   From: Ushiwaka-sama            it’s almost summer, why would I be cold?

09:37   From: Captain-Sama!               the top 3 ace in the entire country, ladies and gentlemen

You opened the chat after the last message from your captain. By then, you had already greeted the visiting teams from Aobajōsai and were leading them to the gyms that were being used to the practice matches. It was strange, seeing the friends that you had spent more than three years with, wearing rival colors to your own.

“I’ll never get used to seeing Shiratorizawa-clad you, (F/N).” One of your old close friends commented, pointing at your purple tracksuit.

��Honestly, me too.” You admitted, looking up toward her before going back to your phone. You briefly showed the last few texts to Oikawa himself, who rolled his eyes at Ushijima’s words.

There was always something strange about Ushijima when it came to the Aobajōsai setter. It was mixture of respect and something, that always motivated Ushijima to voice his desire for Oikawa to go to Shiratorizawa. He had explained on one occasion that Oikawa was a setter unlike any in the prefecture, including his current team as well.

Oikawa was the type of setter who could bring out the absolute best of anyone, orchestrate his team to their full one-hundred percent, molding them toward his personal interest and control of the game.

And as a setter yourself, you knew that despite his gaudy style, Oikawa was well above the rest.

Ushijima often voiced that Oikawa deserved a team that would help him grow, rather than a team that require him to win – a team he had to drag by his fingertips.

You had explained to Oikawa once before how Ushijima explained it to you, of course with better words and ones that the brunet would less likely take offense to, but the setter simply scowled and muttered that Waka was still an asshole anyway. When you had told Ushijima about the bonds that Oikawa upheld, Ushijima simply narrowed his eyes and said nothing.

It was strange, their relationship. The feelings seemed to run bone-deep, neither male listening to the other side or even simple reason. But you learned not to question it anymore. It went against logic.

You flipped your phone back open to the groupchat and typed.

09:38   From: do you know da wae             I wasn’t his student, I was his babysitter

You typed in, Oikawa looking over your shoulder as you texted, immediately reaching over you to grab your phone the moment he had realized what you conveyed. You could almost feel the loud laughter of Tendou as he bellowed out at your text.

“Why must you taunt me like this (L/N)-chan?” Oikawa pouted, crossing his arms and looking away from you. Iwaizumi had a small smile when you showed him your words, Makki and Mattsun laughing in response since the true personality of the intimidating setter was coming to light to the other Shiratorizawa students.

“It’s time everyone learns the truth.” You teased, rubbing your shoulder against Oikawa’s as he continued to pout. There was no one quite like Oikawa, you admitted inwardly but never to the face of the already proud setter.

They unloaded their things into the visiting school’s locker room and when you returned they had already shook hands and were warming up before the start of the practice match. You tilted your head at the line-up, now a visual confirmation that Kageyama was nowhere in sight.

“Who are you cheering for, (F/N)?” Tendou asked you with a pointed finger in your direction.

You simply rolled your eyes, “Myself. I have my own game in an hour.”

It was to no one’s surprise that your school had dominated both matches, for both the men’s and women’s team. You spied the score-board when you looked over to the men’s match: 25-22 and 27-25. The gaps were not huge and it was obvious that the teams were close in ability, but Aobajōsai had yet to win a single match from your school in three straight years.

You had an unfair advantage of already being closely acquainted with many of Seijō volleyball players – you were once their captain and had to help them individually with their own routines. To your captain’s glee and the third-years’ utter dismay, you proved yourself to be the integral cog that led to the team’s victory – your position as a regular was obviously here to stay.

There was no denying the evident vigor in Oikawa’s eyes after the match, even more so since he had personally requested from you the digital recording of his practice match. An exchange of two orders of milk bread from the bakery across Aobajōsai and you had emailed the brunet his request.

You offered to walk the Seijō students to their bus, since you had a personal question in mind. “Did Kageyama move or something?” You asked toward Oikawa, who scowled in response.

“He went to Karasuno High.” Iwaizumi answered instead, elbowing the brunet for his rude behavior.

“Why do you care so much, (L/N)-chan?” Oikawa taunted, “You already have me and I’m the best setter you need.”

You rolled your eyes along with Makki, but decided to say nothing after his words.

Karasuno… 

You remembered the name of the school distantly. It was still within the prefecture, but you do not recall the school being particularly outstanding when it came to volleyball or any sport for that matter. The school was not anywhere near the list of high-schools you had applied to when you were in junior high, so why would Kageyama, who had unending potential, go somewhere else?

You had voiced this outwardly and even asked if there was an offer from Seijō to Kageyama.

Makki shrugged his shoulders, but the younger student behind him, one that you did not recognize, visibly tensed and the frown on his face grew. He said nothing to you, but it was obvious that Kageyama’s name alone had an effect on the first-years.

Ushijima was already standing at the buses; perfect posture and his hands were naturally down by his sides. You could tell the Seijō students were ready to fight, tensing immediately at the sight of your fellow schoolmate, Oikawa and Iwaizumi moving to stand at the very front of their group. You fought down the urge to call Tendou or Semi, hoping that the situation would not progress further and requiring the help of the other third-years.

“Let today be a testament, Oikawa. It’s never too late for you to come to Shiratorizawa.” He uttered before walking away, right through the center of the group and back to the school grounds.

You spotted Oikawa’s tense smirk, one that he was attempting to use to hide his obvious frown. Iwaizumi was not hiding his scowl and Mattsun looked ready to fight.

You put your hands up, unsure what to say. “I don’t get it. He’s only ever like this with you guys.”

“Don’t defend him, (F/N).” One of your old friends on the female team stated, “You’re one of Ushiwaka’s friends now, you wouldn’t understand how it’s like to be on the losing side anymore.”

You bit your lip but said nothing, there was no reasoning with them when the snide venom from their defeat was still a fresh wound in their minds. You were better off not trying to say anything to them, but with Oikawa’s scowl only increasing you knew you had to do something.

Oikawa kept his eyes trained on Ushijima’s retreating back, before motioning for the younger students to load up their things into the bus, giving his own pack to someone else.

“Oikawa-senpai, please don’t let him get to you.” You put your hands on his chest, seeing the tight fists at the brunet’s sides. “Ushijima doesn’t mean it in a douchey-way, he just comes off like that by accident.”

The brunet took in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, before putting his hands on your shoulders and looking you full-on with his piercing hazel eyes.

“Take that Waka! (L/N) still views me as her senpai – her ability hand-picked and trained by me.” Oikawa stated with enthusiasm as he looked over your shoulder and toward the school. Your smile was now a straight-line, there really was no end to their rivalry, you inwardly mused.

You jabbed your elbow into his stomach, making Oikawa release his hold on you. He groaned and bent-down, low enough for you to lightly pat the top of his head and tell him that you looked forward to the milk bread that he owed you.

He countered, saying that you really could not resist seeing your senpai again, and was about to continue if not for the extremely fast volleyball setting loose right on the brunet’s head.

You flashed a quick thumbs-up toward Iwaizumi then waved goodbye. Walking back toward the dorms, you were ready to shower and take a nap after a day like this.

It was strange that two schools that held such an intense rivalry would often hold practice matches between one another. You chalked it up to Seijō’s innate ability to get better as the duration of a match continued, their batch of third-years in particular were good at planning and strategizing on the fly during official matches. It only made sense that they would want to play against the top school even more often.

Your first official Interhigh-Preliminaries as a regular and you watched the competition with guarded interest. You saw the name Karasuno on the first-day, surprised that the school Kageyama had chosen was in the bottom bracket. The women’s team were obviously subpar in terms of volleyball, incapable of even stopping the average serve from their opponents. You frowned, neither team on the court would prove to be a worthy challenger to Shiratorizawa, so you simply walked away from the match.

Maybe his test scores were really bad, you inwardly joked.

Shiratorizawa was exempt from the first few days of matches, giving everyone ample time to watch and gauge their future rivals.

You decided against watching the match of Karasuno vs Dateko, hearing that the Iron Wall had crushed the team only a few months prior. Rather, you chose to watch a match between Johzenji and another, since you wanted to watch for yourself the extremely aggressive style that had you wondering just what was going on inside their heads.

But when a crowd had exclaimed in surprise over by Karasuno’s court, you chose to maybe just walk over and see what the fuss was about.

You took a seat farther from the rest, hearing distantly of a freak quick that not even the school who specialized in read-blocking could keep up with. You knew, first-hand, how fast and aggressive Kageyama was with his setting, it could be a surprise to everyone’s who was seeing it. Even the spikers on his own team in junior high were constantly surprised, you could imagine how it was now that he was using it in a more public setting.

It was confirmed now, before your very eyes, that Kageyama was now attending Karasuno.

Donned in a uniformed of black and orange with a huge indicator of his number nine, Kageyama was still same in appearance from when you had last seen him. Sporting an unintentional scowl with eyes that shone with a certain determination, you could spot Kageyama in the sea of volleyball players. A part of you was proud to see your, now much taller, kouhai on the court.

Your eyes followed the game, watching as Karasuno attempted to get around the Iron Wall that Dateko was infamous for.

A lucky save from a blocked spike, Karasuno’s libero was quick on his feet and you distantly recognized the short male. You blinked, seeing Kageyama’s perfect form and unable to personally decipher where the first-year was going to set to. You saw the older looking man, one who was surely in his twenties. Or the balder looking one, watching the setter from his place in the back line.

You blinked, a second passing as you tried to figure out who was the next attacker.

Your eyes could barely keep up with the orange flash of someone as the figure ran toward the net, without regard to the set, and spiked the ball before anyone on the other side could react. You felt yourself physically reel back in surprise, what the hell was that???

This was the freak-quick duo that everyone was talking about.

It was not just another name, rather it felt like an extreme understatement to what you had just seen for your yourself. You had not spotted any visual signals and wondered just how much Kageyama had worked on his precise pin-prick setting – he was a monster now, that was for sure.

You were not able to watch the rest of the match, your team calling you since it was getting closer to the time that your group was leaving. You had your own matches to deal with, and as curious as you were about how much Kageyama had changed since you last saw him, you had your own pressures to deal with at the moment.

The women’s team of Shiratorizawa won their matches the next day, overwhelming numbers in your favor since your renowned school seemed to always carry the best ace in the entire prefecture. You took in your victories with humble stride, knowing that nothing was set in stone until the final with your rival school - Aobajōsai. Rather, you finished your stretches and attempted to get the tail-end of the match between Seijō and Karasuno.

You watched with bated breath, unsure of who to root for in the final points, as the freak quick nearly disabled the second-best school in the prefecture. You could not help but bite your lip as the shortest middle blocker you had ever seen, rose above the net, only to be blocked by your old friends.

There was no stopping the apparent heart ache you felt at seeing a team you barely knew, dejectedly fall to the ground with their heads hung low. Oikawa was hollering in victory; there was no doubt in your mind that this match extended to a much more personal level, like that of his games with Ushijima. Within seconds, the brunet was yelling out commands for his team, likely getting ready for the next match as Karasuno lagged behind with depressed visages.

It seems Kageyama is finally beginning to trust other people, you inwardly mused when you reran the last few plays within your mind.

You stood at Aobajōsai’s side of the stands, waving to Oikawa with a smile when he spotted you, lining his team up to bow at those who came to watch the match.

Oikawa made a point of smirking and pointing a finger-gun at you, making many heads turn towards your direction as he did so.

You felt the instant pang and vengeance of a thousand fangirls, making the third-years of Seijō roll their eyes as you tensely motioned a slash across your neck toward the brunet. Other Aobajōsai students, those cheering from the stands, lifted a brow in confusion and curiosity – wondering just who this Shiratorizawa student was and what connection you had to Oikawa.

“At this rate, you’ll be branded a traitor, (L/N)-chan.” Tendou joked, making you tense up at the voice. You spotted him, along with three other students from your school sitting a little farther back from the Seijō crowd.

“I can’t be interested in some of my old friends?” You teased back, walking up to where they were sitting.

“Just don’t cry when I demolish your boyfriend.”

“He’s not-!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Tendou interrupted, turning back to the court as Karasuno neared the Aobajōsai side of the court to bow and offer their own thanks. “Besides, why be interested in him when we have cuties like this one?”

Tendou quickly grabbed at Shirabu’s cheeks, forcing the setter’s frown into a puckered fish-face for a quick second before the brunet nearly mauled his fellow teammate. You rolled your eyes at the antic, but said nothing to acknowledge the question.

You turned back, watching as Kageyama’s distant eyes never wandered higher than eye-level, obviously devastated that this was the result of all his training.

“Kageyama!” You yelled, hoping that the setter would hear you over the applause.

He had, looking up at the stands and seeing you wave at him. There was no hiding his surprise and it looked like he wanted to yell something back, but was instructed by his captain that it was time to head back to the coaches. Kageyama simply waved to you and then ran back to join the others.

“Or is it that one, all along?” Tendou asked in a low voice, eyes following the Karasuno setter before they slide over to you.

You hadn’t heard the red-head, turning back and going out to where the teams were convening downstairs. You attempted to look at the Karasuno crowd, but your own team was assembling for some strategy concerning your own final, the very next day.

After three games, the Shiratorizawa women’s team was pronounced winners of the Interhigh-Prelim. Everyone was aware of your school’s name, it’s reputation – how a win like this was simply expected of you.

But absolute winner did not cover the fact that your face ached from a receive to the face, unable to raise your hands in the visible route of the insane spike of your friend. Or the fact that one of your middle blockers was now actively sporting a limp, pain exploding in her ankle after having a bad landing in an awkward spot after successfully cutting off their ace. Or the fact that one of your regular wing-spikers was now benched, an ice-pack on her knee after her old-injury was sprouting after having to be used so many times.

Or the fact that you nearly cried with joy when you heard the immense crowd of Shiratorizawa cheerleaders and students chant your name, after you performed a setter dump.

None of these details really mattered in most people’s eyes. 

You were Shiratorizawa – winners to the core. They had no sympathy for your story or the hard-earned journey you made to the top, many just expected it with no empathy, and it made you scowl.

You and your team lined-up after the match, the cheering growing to a loud uproar as the cheerleaders, alumni section, and just immense crowd of students chanted the victory screech for Shiratorizawa.

You waved with both hands at your parents as they cheered your name even louder.

This was your second-year in Shiratorizawa, but your first time as a regular on the team. Your friends in Seijō were seeing your skill first-hand in the match, from start to finish, as your team had utterly demolished their hopes in progressing to nationals. You were a skilled setter before, but your time at the Academy had honed you better than you ever were. You gained experience from playing other powerhouses from around the country, even some local colleges who were willing to challenge you.

You were on a completely different level than where you were as the captain of Kitagawa Daiichi.

Your friends had accepted long ago your association with Shiratorizawa, but actively putting your face and actions to their defeat obviously strained their feelings toward you more and more.

You made sure to smile at them before the match, attempting to placate the tense feeling of fighting against your friends, but it was obvious that their friendship with you was getting harder and harder to maintain. After the game, they had completely ignored you – your current friends in Shiratorizawa advising you that it was just the heat of the match. 

But you knew better and simply kept walking away as they ignored you.

The men’s team was able to defeat Aobajōsai in only two matches – Oikawa’s bitter glare and Iwaizumi’s tense frown being sent directly into your own heart.

In the end, everyone deserves to win.

But there was only one winner in the end – you mused. Taking one last look, Oikawa not greeting you this time when he saw you at the line-up, you walked away from the match and back downstairs to the lobby.

It was just too much for your heart, all at once.

You sent a text to both third-years the next day: I’m proud of you guys! Don’t let Ushijima get you down. Iwaizumi answered within minutes, thanking you for the encouragement and even complimenting you on your jump-serve, since he caught a glimpse of your game.

Oikawa never answered.

Back at school, the coaches for both the men’s and women’s team allowed a rest-day on Friday’s holiday – Family Day – claiming that everyone needed to take a breather and that they had earned it from their win.

GroupChat: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼ д ͡༽୨

11:23   From: Captain-Sama!             congrats to all !! ✿♥‿♥✿

11:23   From: Captain-Sama!                           may your crops be watered and your skin is clear

11:23   From: Coconut-head             thank you!! And for you as well ٩(♡ε♡ )۶

11:23   From: Ushiwaka-sama!             thank you I am checking my plants now

11:23   From: do you know da wae             I have exactly one succulent

11:23   From: the most tender Salami           lmao thanks b attached:oikawameme.jpg

11:23   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            why must you call plants that @doyouknowdawae

11:23   From: do you know da wae            y

11:23   From: do you know da wae            are you jealous of my good succc ??

11:23   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩            LMAOOO

11:24   From: the most tender Salami              holy shit

11:24   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            fight me

11:24   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:24   From: the most tender Salami            (f/n) gives me hope for our meme legacy :’)

11:24   From: do you know da wae            i gotchu bby boo

11:24   From: do you know da wae            maybe I’ll even bring you back food from break

11:24   From: Captain-Sama!            am I the only one staying on campus for family day? :’)

11:24   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            myself + Shirabu are staying as well

11:25   From: do you know da wae            aw guys I’ll bring some of my mom’s oyakodon when I get back!

11:25   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            thank you!!

11:25   From: the most tender Salami            my food is now forgotten :’)

11:25   From: Captain-Sama!            you live closer to Karasuno and Seijooo, right?

11:25   From: do you know da wae            yaaaas

11:26   From: Captain-Sama!            ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:26   From: the most tender Salami            ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:26   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:26   From: do you know da wae            ｢(ﾟﾍﾟ)

11:26   From: Captain-Sama!            don’t think we didn’t notice your little exchange with one of the freak quick kids

11:26   From: do you know da wae            oh

11:27   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            (f/n) cant have other friends ??

11:27   From: the most tender Salami            oh come on we all know they shared

11:27   From: the most tender Salami            the look attached: hearteyes.jpg

11:27   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            oh no the matchmaker is back in business

11:27   From: Captain-Sama!            oikawa then kags are you hiding any other setters ??

You were lounging on your bed during common hour, hesitating in your next answer and trying to decide if you were either going to mess with everyone or just end it there. But, you always loved sowing some seeds of discord with your favorite volleyball nerds. Typing in…

11:28   From: do you know da wae            im actually in love with one of the miyas

11:28   From: the most tender Salami            gasp

11:28   From: My only Okaasan/Eita            he can jump up his own ass

11:28   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            he is a good setter

11:28   From: Captain-Sama!            but a complete douche

11:28   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )            I do not approve

11:28   From: the most tender Salami            that’s how you know he’s that bad, yamagata doesn’t ship it

11:29   From: Coconut-head attached: ???meme.jpg

11:29   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            ＼| ￣ヘ￣|／

11:29   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩           who the fuck

11:29   From: the most tender Salami            third from left attached: InarizakiHigh.jpg

11:29   From: do you know da wae            tbh didn’t expect anyone to know who that was

11:30   From: the most tender Salami            lmao sweetie we live and breathe vball

11:30   From: Captain-Sama!            also unfortunately he was at a vbc camp with some of us

11:30   From: the most tender Salami            I’d rather approve of you with oiks

11:30   From: do you know da wae            lmao nah

11:30   From: Captain-Sama!            these RECEIPTS would beg to differ Attached: oinkawa.jpg; jointpractice.jpg; bakawa.jpg

11:31   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            holy

11:31   From: the most tender Salami            I knew it was true love 11:31   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            where is everyone’s chill ???

11:31   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            you will be a nice Shiratorizawa couple

11:31   From: the most tender Salami            LMAO

11:32   From: do you know da wae            why does this keep happening

11:32   From: do you know da wae            only kenjiro understands me

11:32   From: My only Okaasan/Eita            ive known waka forever and even I don’t know why he’s like this with Oikawa

11:32   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            its bc we’re the only normal ones

11:33   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            I’m not with Oikawa, he doesn’t even go to Shiratorizawa

11:33   From: Ushiwaka-sama!            a mistake in itself

11:33   From: Captain-Sama!            IM SCREAMING

11:33   From: the most tender Salami            wakanda forever

11:33   From: do you know da wae            LMAO I was thinking that too but decided against texting it

11:34   From: the most tender Salami            wait a second

11:34   From: the most tender Salami            kenjiro x (f/n) >.>>>>>>

11:34   From: do you know da wae            lmao don’t even

11:34   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              lmao well

11:35   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩              ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

11:35   From: do you know da wae            we all know that if that if kenjiro’s girlfriend hears this she’ll literally shank me

11:35   From: the most tender Salami            lmao true

11:35   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            she doesn’t even like me

11:36   From: do you know da wae            what a lie

11:36   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩             hard retweet

11:36   From: Captain-Sama!            we all know the alpha ship

11:37   From: the most tender Salami            oikawa x (f/n) x kags

11:37   From: Captain-Sama!            LMAO

11:37   From: do you know da wae            end me pls

11:37   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩             oof didn’t know you were into that

11:37   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)            they can definitely do that for you

11:38   do you know da wae            …

You rolled your eyes at their antics, conversation on constant haywire. But you would not have it any other way. Most people would look at your school, the simple name and already have connotation to others. Yes, you were a powerhouse school. But that did not change the fact that you were all teenagers, just like everyone else. And with it came the continuous antics of meme-lovers.

Throwing your phone back on your bed and turning to look out the window, you were happy to have a day to yourself to finally make sense of everything happening. You were proud of your win at the Interhigh Tournament, no matter how bitter or lost your friendship had become with the people you were once the closest to.

Your texted your parents about the three-day break for Family Day and they had immediately pushed for you to come back home, where they would hold a celebratory dinner along with some other families they were close to and invited. You told your roommate about it and how embarrassing they were, but she countered that it was a sweet gesture, since she held a close relationship to her own parents as well.

“They’re just proud of their little girl, that’s all!” She teased, grabbing your head into a small nuggie. She was much taller than you, a middle-blocker who was still serving as an alternate.

Most of the other members of the team were also heading home on Thursday night, eager to visit their homes and parents and finally have a home-cooked meal after being away for half the semester. You personally looked forward to your mother’s cooking and said goodbyes to your teammates after your last class on Thursday.

Your dorm at Shiratorizawa was much farther than your home, actually sitting between Karasuno High and Aobajōsai. You considered jogging the entire way, but it was a rare break and decided to give your body one as well (at least just for the weekend, of course). Coming off the train, you spotted the street sign pointing to the aforementioned high-school and heavily considered visiting the old-time friend and setter that you had yet to have a formal conversation with in a good two years.

You had some time to kill and decided that maybe it was not such bad idea.

You neared the school and heard the tell-tale sounds of sneakers and volleyballs being tossed about.

Standing in the already open doorway, you spotted several faces that you recognized from the Interhigh game still training. They wore serious expressions, studying their abilities very carefully and working to fix the kinks in what they planned to bring to the table.

“Japan!” You heard someone shout over the others, the owner of the voice pointing at you as they looked at you in surprise, before they ran over to where you were standing.

You waved at the orange-haired middle-blocker, smiling as you did so. “I remember you. Good spikes, little dude.” You complimented, patting the top of his head as he blushed at the physical contact.

You turned back to the gym, stopping the blush crawling to your cheeks as every male looked at you in genuine curiosity. You kept scanning, until finally seeing the setter you were looking for.

Kageyama was already walking up to you, smacking the head of the still sheepish middle-blocker and muttering hinata boke, before he greeted you in a neutral voice.

“(L/N)-san.” He stated simply, inclining his head as he did so.

“Kageyama-kun, didn’t expect us to meet again like this.”

You felt the looming presence of two behind you and turned to see two males peering at you with open interest. One of them, that was the taller of the two, asked toward you, “Eh, Kageyama. How do you know Shiratorizawa’s setter?”

You smiled at the two looming boys and answered, “We went to Kitagawa Daiichi together.”

The two held their hearts with open euphoric expressions, happy that you were even gracing them with a response.

Kageyama fought the urge to slap them on the head as well, before adding. “She helped me with my jump-serves when Oikawa had refused to.”

You just kept on smiling, unsure what to say or add when the boys before you had yet to say anything at all as well.

“You give me too much credit.” You countered, “You were a monster on the court the other day.”

Asahi silently studied your figure, distantly remembering your sharp jump-serve that he had gleaned from your match, it was something you were personally known for after all. A setter who was capable of shutting out the team from making any offensive plays to begin with – you really were one of Oikawa’s students after all.

“Nice to meet a senpai to our little monster.” The captain teased, offering his name – Daichi.

“What are you doing here?” Kageyama asked you, trying to keep his voice leveled.

“Both volleyball teams were given breaks until Monday, consider it a blessing for winning Interhigh.”

“Wah! I remember you.” Hinata, you recalled from earlier, stating. “You did that thing that Oikawa did to us. He went pow and was about to set and then boom it was a spike!”

You nodded, surprised on how truly enthusiastic and just all-around pure the small middle-blocker was proving to be. This was the same volleyball player who was part of the freak quick duo you had seen for the first time not long ago. Eyes shining with determination and an indescribable aura, it was a complete change to the young man jumping with joy in front of you now.

You turned back to Kageyama, “I wanted to see how you were doing. I saw your game and was just wondering…” You trailed off.

Kageyama hesitated, a small frown still evident on his visage. “We have practice now.”

You dropped your sports bag to the side, “Sure. I don’t mind helping out with jump-serves or something if you guys need it.” You paused at the silence, “It feels weird not having practice during the week anyway.”

“Jump-serve? Shiratorizawa?” The coach asked with a finger on his chin, before it morphed to a smirk. “Better make the most of it!” He directed to the group.

You felt the evident hesitation in the air, several of the older looking men simply looking at you with no words coming out. But that did not stop the little orange to bound up to you without restraint, eyes gleaming with anticipation at whatever question was being held behind those wide orbs.

“Do you mind showing me your jump serve?” Hinata asked with hands held up to his chest, excitement apparent through his lack of restraint.

“Don’t crowd her, boke.” Kageyama bit out, but you waved him off with your hand and a relaxed grin.

Offering a small smile, in hopes of softening some of his reserve, you took the ball that Hinata was offering you and glanced up toward the rest of the group. The moment your eyes came to, the older (you assumed) third-years, were ushering other members to get back to their own practice. A man with silver hair was pushing his younger ones to their previous positions, but it was obvious that their eyes were following you as you walked across the court.

“Stand back, little dude.” You motioned with your free hand as you paced further back past the line.

Holding the volleyball out with your dominant hand, you took a deep breath and launched it up into the air above you. Examining it with keen eyes, you smashed it forward, close to the outer corner of the other-side, but within the bounds.

“Uwah!” You heard his cheer of excitement from the side and turned to see a bright and eager smile.

It seemed that all the other commotion in the gym had stopped as you readied to serve, silence now much more evident as they took a full gander at you – the one capable and widely known for your monster serve. You felt eyes peering at you, but they quickly averted as you timidly looked around the room for yourself.

All but two pairs of eyes, both of which you were sure were burning into your head.

“Allow me to receive your serves!” You heard the voice from behind you, turning to see a male who was a shorter than you, with two-toned hair.

“Sure.” You muttered, surprised at the humble request of a libero you had heard so much of before.

This continued until the next rotation, a strange smile on your face from being on the other side of practice. Your coach knew better than anyone your strengths and definitely exploited your weaknesses when it came to your own practice. You distantly remembered having to do a cursed number of jump serves and, even though it was your forte, there were tears in your eyes for just how much you ached.

“Here.” An older man inclined a water bottle in your direction. “My name’s Asahi.”

“Thanks. Nice to meet you.” You nodded back in appreciation, slightly intimidated from his tall stature and rugged appearance.

Forcing yourself to steel your spine, you recalled how you were previously incredibly apprehensive around Ushiwaka, who turned out to be the biggest volleyball idiot on the planet.

“Something up?” You asked with a raised brow.

“Do you mind, walking me through your serve?” He hesitated in his request, making you inwardly surprised that a man so big and bulky, was coming to you so humbly.

Again, Karasuno seemed to surprise you.

You walked home with Kageyama after practice, floors mopped and nets neatly stored away. You were so used to your dorm at Shiratorizawa, the walk home felt familiar and yet distant – it was strange to you. The both of your homes were only a few streets separated from one another, you remembered from the walks home you would have together before in junior high. And you decided on spending the beginning of the walk together in comfortable silence.

Or at least comfortable for you.

Kageyama was inwardly struggling to say literally anything.

He remembered you as the type of person who hung around Oikawa and Iwaizumi, two people who often had no qualms in engaging in conversation. You had a bright smile, unlike his own. 

And yet here you were, simply gazing ahead to the commute in front of you without a single word uttered. Kageyama had to stop himself from the physical nervous tick in his fingertips.

“I can’t explain it, but there’s just something different about you.” You stated, slowly moving your gaze over to the setter at the end of your sentence.

It was clear that Kageyama had no idea what to say, sputtering but no actual words coming out.

“It’s not a bad thing, not at all.” You raised your hands, waving them in defense. “Don’t worry, Kageyama-kun.”

“How can I not…” You heard him mutter under your breath, making you lightly chuckle at his words.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You complimented, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder and making him instantly shy once again. “Why are you so shy, now?”

“What do you mean?” He raised a brow.

“It’s just me, no need to feel so tense.”

Kageyama hesitated, “Thank you.”

“For today? No worries, a small part of it was selfish since I wanted to see you.” You admitted.

You could hear his breath hitch, before he added okay.

“You’re such a blueberry, Kageyama-kun.” You laughed at his disposition.

“What does that even mean?! Boke.” His apprehension was quickly pushed aside at his frustrated words, making you chuckle at him even more.

You reached Kageyama’s home first, a sight you had not seen for yourself in the past year. Even when you returned back home, this was a little out of the way from your usual commute. But this was strange, it seemed completely the same no matter how much time had passed. It always just seemed…

… Empty.

You turned to Kageyama, “Are you spending family day alone, Kageyama-kun?”

“Yeah.”

You gauged his reaction, despite his rough exterior, Kageyama did not exhibit a hint of a frown or sadness at the answer. Rather, his response was rather plain – as if this occurrence was normal and not even disappointing to the setter anymore. This realization hurt your heart, having such comforting and supportive parents of your own, Kageyama deserved just as much.

Kageyama was used to spending his time alone, that much was evident.

“Would you like to have dinner with us tomorrow, for family day?”

He looked at you fully, apprehension palpable, but stated anyway. “Sure.”

You exchanged phone numbers as a formality, but saw that both of you had your previous numbers saved in each of your phones. It made you slightly happy, that Kageyama decided on keeping your phone number despite your time apart at different schools.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Kageyama-kun.”

“Boke, I’ll walk you.”

You tilted your head and pointed in the direction of your home, “It’s not that far–”

“It’s dangerous, you never know.” He interrupted, brisk words in evident contrast to his sheepish strides in front of you.

You just kept on smiling the way home.

“Would you like to come in?” You offered to which he nodded. You slid the door open and greeted. “Mom, dad! I’m home, I have Kageyama with me.”

“Come in sweetie, I’m in the kitchen!” You heard your mom’s voice, the sweet smell of her cooking fliting through the room and to your growling stomach. “Your dad is still picking some stuff up for tomorrow.”

You settled your bag at the end of the stairs before making your way over. “Hey.”

“Look at my favorite swan!” She wrapped her arms around your shoulders and then lightly squeezed your cheeks, “Now an official winner, too!”

“Mom, stop.” You grumbled, wrestling your face away from your ongoing embarrassment.

“Kageyama, good to see you too!” She greeted. “You’ve always been so tall – look at you now, all handsome.”

You laughed at Kageyama’s reddened face, no worries coming out of his goldfish expression.

Your mom continued, “I meant to stop by your home last week, I still owe your mom thanks for the calla lilies.”

“Oh. They’ll be back next week.”

Your mom paused, turning her head in question as she looked at the young man. With a newly determined face, she glanced at you and then toward Kageyama, “Would you like to join us for family day, then? We’re having a few people over and we would love to have you as well.”

“I already invited him, mom.” You stated, taking some dough off the table to eat as a small snack, which resulted in a large smack on the back of your head.

“Perfect.” Your mom assured, “I’m still cooking now, but you’re welcome to join us for dinner tonight as well.”

Kageyama backed-up with his hands raised, “I couldn’t barge in on (F/N)’s first night back with her family–“

You interrupted, this time. “Nonsense, Kageyama-kun.”

“Here, Kageyama-kun can help me with this little bit. (F/N) unpack your things upstairs and then come help set the table.”

You nodded, taking her orders without delay as Kageyama settled into the rhythm of your family.

“You were such a stern boy, back in Kitagawa Daiichi. I’m glad to see you’ve lightened up.” Your mother commented, passing the young setter some greens over the kitchen table.

By now, the meal was ready and the four of you, with the new addition of your father, were enjoying a quaint dinner to celebrate you finally visiting home after so long.

“Lightened, that’s a good word for it.” You added.

“There’s definitely a difference.” Your dad observed, “I was glad to see you’re still enjoying volleyball – still as gifted as ever.”

Kageyama paused, “You’ve seen me play?”

“Of course. There’s no denying the shock we still have when we see you serve. And that quick toss, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do it like that before.” Your mom replied, “We saw your game against Aobajōsai, there’s no doubt in anyone’s minds that you’ve grown as a person.”

“Game nearly gave me a heart attack – I’ll never get used to your brunette friend.”  You dad pointedly stated toward you before turning to Kageyama, “But I’ll be honest, even though we’re closer to the Oikawa’s, I was rooting you.” He winked.

“Honey.” Your mom lightly slapped his shoulder with a smile.

“Of course, the highlight of the tournament for us was cheering our daughter on to her first official tournament win.” Your father continued, waving off her light admonishment with a grin of his own.

“Wait.” You saw the little hamster running in Kagyeama’s mind, “You watched the last few days of the tournament?”

“I wasn’t about to miss my daughter become champion!” You father bellowed, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Even if I have to use my vacation days at work, I would hate to miss something so important to her.”

Kageyama continued staring, eyes never leaving your father. There was no doubt that Kageyama lived and breathed volleyball, he loved it more than anything else really. But, his parents had yet to even begin to understand the dedication he had toward the sport. Kageyama could not remember the last time they had attended one of his games or even tournaments.

The expression on Kageyama’s face was so far-gone, it made you want to do something to comfort him.

Apparently, your parents thought the same way.

“You’ll definitely get ‘em next time.” Your dad motioned toward Kageyama. “Seriously, that quick attack you have – I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“We’ll be rooting you on again.” You mom reassured Kageyama, offering a plate of meat toward the setter who was staring at them with wide eyes.

He took the plate with hesitant hands. That’s how you knew Kageyama was so surprised, the fact that he was even wavering to eat meat – his king of food.

“Don’t look so surprised.” Your father joked before turning to Kageyama fully with a serious expression, “We’re proud of you.”

You smiled at their words. 

You knew your parents well, just as they knew you, but here they were being entirely honest. Your parents did everything they could to have you in a loving environment – and this required being honest with what they wanted and what all parties were feeling. Meaning, they were not dressing up their words to the silent setter.

They really were proud of him.

You put a comforting hand in the crook of his elbow, since he was sitting beside you. That seemed to snap Kageyama out of his stupor, his glazed eyes turning to you and then between your parents.

“Thank you.” Kageyama paused, “Really.”

This was probably the extent of his social ability, you inwardly joked before offering the plate back to your parents. The poor dude was close to exploding, you could tell, and tried to steer the conversation away from the setter before that happened.

It was strange to Kageyama, the effort your parents took in spending time with you or even just what you were interested in. Your parents commented that they always downloaded your games if they were broadcasted on television, eager just to see how you were doing or wanting to send you an encouraging text about something you had done during the match.

Kageyama really felt the love in your family.

Your father walked him to the door, once dinner and dessert was done. Offering a goodbye and a literal see you tomorrow. Kageyama felt guilty, even in the face of your whole family telling him it was no issue, leaving your mom no choice but to task him with bringing a small cake for the gathering tomorrow.

Kageyama put a hand on the gate to your house, looking back with a small smile before continuing on his walk back home.

You spent the next day preparing for the small gathering that night. You only hoped that your parents would not embarrass you later. Kneading dough and humming along to the song through the speakers, you spent the calm morning alongside your mother in the kitchen. Your dorm only had a microwave, since you were still an underclassman with no privileges to a kitchen yet. It was a great change to finally have a cooked meal.

You greeted the first family with a smile, unaware of the feelings of one in particular.

“Hey, glad you guys could make.” You started, turning to the side for the new guests to enter. The parents smiled at you, inattentive to the tension between you and their daughter.

“Good to see you, (F/N). Congrats on your win, as well.” The father greeted as he passed you.

You turned to your friend, “I haven’t really seen you in a while.”

“Our last two sets was three days ago.” She bit out, glancing at you briefly before walking into your home.

You had always worried about this. 

You loved your friends; your time at Kitagawa Daiichi held a special place in your heart – but that was nothing compared to the continual animosity they held for your school. The rivalry between Shiratorizawa and Aobajōsai was not a surface level problem, it was one that was seemingly burning to the core of each blue-clad student. They wanted nothing more than to absolutely destroy you, even if you were their friend. And the fact that you were a forerunner in the women’s team’s defeat, it made them dislike you even more.

You could not withhold the long sigh that escaped you.

Your parents were always the type to participate in fundraisers or school events and, being a previous member of a strong school like Kitagawa Daiichi, meant that they were in constant association with other parents to kids just like you. You loved it at the time, since it was obvious display of their support for you and the sport. 

But now, after leaving the life-track of your Kitagawa Daiichi friends…

It’s not that there were no other parents that yours could connect with at Shiratorizawa. But it was harder for your parents since most of the others knew each other from Shiratorizawa junior high – meaning they already had their tight knit clique of parent association friends. It was not like your parents did not try either, but they were just closer to the friends they made at Kitagawa Daiichi. It also helped that your home was closer to the schools as well. Which meant that…

Some of their closest friends were parents from your time in junior high.

Meaning most of those invited today were probably now attending Aobajōsai.

You had to stop yourself from slapping your forehead against the door.

Your home was littered with various families containing your friends – or ex-friends? They had never actually confirmed anything to you verbally – making you want to literally throw yourself out the window and down the street into the river and hopefully float down back to Shiratorizawa.

If not for your parents, you would have had no problems walking back to school today if it meant avoiding this.

Opening the door after the telltale sign of the doorbell, you nervously smiled before the caustic eyes of the Oikawa family. Tōru, along with his parents, older sister with her husband and son, greeted you at the door as you stepped aside for them to enter. The older Oikawa dragged you into a hug, claiming you’ve grown way too much and that she was proud of your recent win. Takeru handed you a flower and you recognized it from the nearby park.

You were most nervous of Tōru – his reaction to you after the Interhigh Tournament was unlike how he had ever treated you before. Even as a newly minted Shiratorizawa student, he still took the effort to catch up with you and even text you back. But since the tournament he had been ignoring you. Iwaizumi reassured you that it was nothing personal, it was just your school that inflamed him.

But it just made it all the more awkward to be inviting Oikawa into your home now.

The rest of his family made their way into your home, but Tōru took his time in taking off his shoes and stand in the foyer area alone with you, hazel eyes locking with yours and never turning away.

“You’ve always been an amazing setter, I hope you know that.” You started.

He blinked slowly, eyes making their way from the bottom of your shoes all the way up to your face. It felt like you were being examined, his intense stare and uncharacteristic quietness raking through every detail of your body – no wonder your fellow students at Shiratorizawa found him to be intimidating. Oikawa really could be if he tried and it hurt your heart that you were now placed at the completely other side of a friendship.

Hazel eyes narrowed when he reached your face, “I don’t need your pity.”

You grabbed his elbow before he could walk away, “It’s not. Tōru, you need to know that. You’ve always been an incredible setter I look up to and that will never change.”

Oikawa looked at you but said nothing. At least his expression was more neutral, rather than its previous hints of resentment.

“Take away the names, the labels, the stupid school colors – you’re an amazing setter. And you will always have a place in my heart as my first mentor.” You admitted, watching as his eyes slowly widened with each word.

You continued, “Which is why I hate to see you beat yourself up over this. You mean so much to me, to so many people – I just want you to treat yourself right.”

Oikawa closed his eyes, seemingly taking in all of your words and letting it process one more time in his mind. When hazel eyes were peering at you one more, he had a slight smirk on his face, but you could tell that it was morphing into a genuine smile.

“Thank you, (F/N).” He tugged on your hand his time, free arm coming around your waist to bring you into a hug.

You felt his head lean against the top of yours, relishing in the moment that you could be there for your older senpai, one that had taught you so much when you were first starting your beloved sport. There was so much you wanted to convey to him and your really believed in your heart that Oikawa deserved to go to nationals – but you were just happy that he was not mad at you anymore.

“I really mean that much to you, huh?” You could hear the telltale signs that Oikawa’s teasing voice was edging back and you lifted a brow as the setter spoke, “I knew Shiratorizawa couldn’t take you away from me. You really must love me.”

You rolled your eyes, Oikawa was coming back to you.

He lightly pushed at your shoulders, one arm still around your waist but the other holding you a good enough distance so that he could peer down at you.

“Please wait for me, for marriage.” He winked.

Immediately you were pushing his arm away and turning to hammer your elbow into his ribcage. Oikawa back away immediately, muttering a curse and yelling at your violent nature.

“You’re lucky Iwaizumi’s family left for vacation or you would’ve gotten a real ass-whooping.” You stated in a dead-pan voice, making Oikawa sigh at you and mutter true.

You were happy to have at least keep your friendship with Tōru, even if your relationships with your past female friends were nothing short of a complete garbage fire at this point.

The brunette led you by hand into the living room, where many of the others were already socializing. You could literally feel the gossip spreading already, prolonged stares at where you were joined at the hands with Tōru, the whispers between the older parents, and even his own damn sister taking one look and then winking at the both of you.

You attempted to flick his hand away, but Tōru simply chastised you for being a brat.

You had to fight the urge to kick his shins.

He took out his phone and the two of you posed for the picture, joined hands visible from the angle. You wondered if this would be worth the sudden death via Shiratorizawa’s roasting if Oikawa posted this to Instabook, but you figured he would not since you were still on tense relations with literally everyone (sans Iwaizumi) from his team.

Your savior came in the form of the doorbell, immediately springing away from the hazel-haired setter and to the last awaited guest. He still followed you over, leaning his side against the doorway as he waited for you to open the door.

“Glad you made it, Kageyama-kun.” You greeted, taking the box of food from his hands so he could take his shoes off.

“Thanks again, for inviting me.”

“No problem. Make yourself at home.”

Turning back to Oikawa, you could see he was standing at full attention now - posture haughty, narrowed eyes, raised chin, and a small scowl on his visage.

You wondered if there would be a fight today.

Kageyama lost to Oikawa and your friends lost to you.

What the hell were your parents thinking????

You led Kageyama back to the living room, the both of you standing awkwardly as the current Aobajōsai kids talked amongst each other. Oikawa stood the side, surveying the situation before tsking, then walking over to you and leading you to sit in the empty armchair while he leaned on the armrest. He placed a lazy arm across the back and you fought the urge to say a sarcastic remark.

It immediately became silent, parents conversing on the other side of the dining room, unknowing to the tense situation in the center of the living room amongst the young teens.

Tōru was making it pretty obvious that he was draping his presence all around you. First leading you by the hand and sitting very close to you, even encompassing himself around you via his arm.

“Since when are you so chummy?” One of the girls asked toward you.

“We’re just friends!” You immediately raised your hands in defense. Oikawa said nothing as he raised a brow.

Another one of them sputtered, “You’re friends with Oikawa, but you don’t even try with us?”

“That’s not true. I tried talking to you and you ignored me.”

You could tell she was growing agitated as she bit back, “Why should I even try? All you do is beat us – practice matches, official games, tournaments.”

“Well, I’m playing to win.” You said with a raised brow, unsure where they were going with this.

“But why couldn’t you even try to play to win with us?” She huffed, “I get it. You wanted to be on a team of absolute winners and obviously that does not mean us. You’re the one who walked away because we weren’t worth it, right?”

You tried to get a word in, but she raised her hand for you to stop. Turning her head away from you, it was clear that no matter what you said, she was not going to listen. You looked at the other friends you had from Kitagawa Daiichi, most frowning before averting their eyes from you.

One of them took one hard look at you, keeping your eye contact, before she got up and walked away.

You felt the pain pinprick behind your eyes, the small sign of indication that tears were building on your visage. Not wanting to show your weak state to people who obviously hate you at this point, you quickly stood up and made your way to the back-porch area. Oikawa attempted to stop you, but you finagled your hand out of his grasp as you left.

You leaned against the wooden railing, wondering just how fucked up the situation grew and how different it could have been.

It hurt even more knowing that her words were true. You tried so hard, your last year of junior high, to pass the entrance exam for Shiratorizawa. That was your main goal the entire time, get into your dream school and that will make you an absolute winner. You had never, once, considered going to Aobajōsai as something desirable. It was not your second choice and honestly not even your third (Itachiyama and Fukurōdani reserved those spots). Aobajōsai sat as your last choice, something you did not actually want to do since it was inferior in your view.

But for your friends, it was their main and only choice.

You would never regret going to Shiratorizawa, it was your school and just because they resented it, did not mean that you did not deserve the title of winners.

But it still hurt that they hated you thusly.

You fought the urge to scream at the sky, when you felt an awkward, but comforting hand on your shoulder.

“They hate me too.”

“They don’t hide it well, Kageyama-kun.” You turned to him fully, a wistful smile on your face.

“It seems… Oikawa still treasures you.”

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, he can be a complete asswipe.” Kageyama smiled at this, “But he’s still a brilliant setter and someone I wish the best for.”

Kageyama leaned his arms against the rail, eyes still trained on you. “Why do you care so much about people who want nothing to do with you?”

“I hate that I care so much.” You admitted, “But they were my friends – I held a leadership position for two years, even as their captain goddamnit. My time with them meant so much to me and it just hurts that it obviously didn’t have the same impact.”

Kageyama looked at you fully, a wondering expression on his visage.

“Was it worth it? Going to Shiratorizawa?”

“If I could go back, I wouldn’t change a thing.” You stated. “You?”

“I would still go to Karasuno.”

“Really? King of the Court?” You teased and watched the angry tick form at his forehead, “You wouldn’t come to the school of swans and absolute winners?”

Kageyama had a grim smile, one that indicated that he was thinking hard. “Now, probably not.”

“Wait, really?”

“No.” He hesitated, “I think I can really grow with Karasuno.”

“That’s great to hear.”  You smiled,  “Then let’s continue to live without regrets.”

“I try, but I understand.” Kageyama replied.

“Oh?”

“I remember what it’s like to turn around and no longer see a team.”

You felt your heart sag, recalling the headlines of Kitagama Daiichi’s loss. “But that won’t happen on Karasuno, right?”

Kageyama looked down and smiled, “No. It won’t.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m still rooting for you.” You said as you winked, causing Kageyama to flush red immediately.

The two of you stood in comfortable silence until the screen door opened.

“Never thought I’d see you two together like this.” Oikawa observed from the doorway.

“It’s not like that.” You waved your hand to casually dismiss his statement.

Oikawa walked toward Kageyama, stopping only at an arm’s length from him. “Good, I’ll have you know (F/N) is waiting for me for marriage.”

You actually tried to punch him in the stomach, like a full-on solid right cross on the annoying brunette, but Oikawa nearly growled and maneuvered you instead. Now, your arm was twisted behind your back and you felt Oikawa’s chest against your spine. You were about to tell Kageyama that Tōru was joking and would get a formal ass-whopping from Iwaizumi when you let him know, but you heard another voice call from just inside the house.

“Oh, this is where you all were! We’re starting dinner, come inside!” Your mom urged.

The other students said nothing when you joined them this time, probably only since you were now in the presence of parents and real adults. Kageyama sat on your right while Oikawa was on your left, you attempted to include both of them in conversation, but it was obvious that anything either setter said would immediately set the other off.

“Kageyama, would you like some more meat?” You asked, turning to him with a hopeful smile.

“Why don’t you pass me that plate instead, (F/N)?” Oikawa immediately countered before he could even answer.

Oikawa snapped another picture at dinner, one with you alongside him and flashing a peace sign at the camera and Kageyama munching away in the background as he listened passively to the others.

After dinner you returned back outside to the patio with Kageyama, now joined by others as they flit through the house.

“God, I’m sorry this is so awful.” You stated as you stood alongside the porch, shoulders touching side-by-side.

“It could be worse.” Kageyama offered, “Thank you for including me.”

“Always.” You replied, “I know we weren’t exactly close, but I did miss you for what its worth.”

Kageyama hesitated, “You don’t have to say that.”

“Why do you say that?”

“No one missed me in junior high.”

You poked him in the chest and demanded his whole attention, “Well, I did.”

The both of you lingered there for the night. Catching up on lost time and for the various woes you had in high school. Kageyama was still quiet as ever, but still offered words not unkindly throughout the conversation. 

It was nice to have one-on-one time with the setter. To think that even being from the same school, the times you were able to do this could be counted on two hands. You hardly ever sat down and had a serious talk with him in the past and any insight into the misunderstood setter had you hanging onto every word.

It was no surprise later that the Karasuno setter was the first to leave. You did not blame the pour soul since he was literally the most far removed from the families present (the next probably being you).

Walking Kageyama out the door and to your front-gate, you started. “I don’t know what it is with Oikawa and you. He’s almost as bad as Ushijima when he’s with Oikawa.”

Kageyama raised a brow, unsure just how the proper Ushijima could be anything but.

“Anyway, don’t listen to Tōru.”

He cracked a smile, “I never do.”

You lightly pushed his shoulder, “We both know that’s a lie.”

Kageyama just kept on smiling, not saying anything as he looked up at the night sky.

“Thanks for coming over. Sorry that literally everyone hates us.” You joked, “I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but stay in touch, okay?”

The little awkward bean nodded, but you could tell that this goodbye was incomplete. He offered a handshake, but that seemed too formal considering your friendship. You took the hand for a second, before pulling it and wrapping an arm around him into a hug.

“Get home safe, Kageyama-kun.” You murmured against his chest and felt the deep rumble that signified his affirmation. His other hand curled around you hesitantly, unsure in his actions as he tried his best to reciprocate the hug.

“Thank you, (L/N).”

Waving one last time, you saw Kageyama make his way down the street before he turned fully on his walk back home.

“I don’t remember the two of you being that close in junior high.” You heard Tōru’s familiar voice from the doorway. It seemed the brunet was constantly walking in and spying on your interactions with Kageyama.

“Maybe your judgement is always clouded around a certain blueberry.” You stated as you walked back into the house.

Oikawa rolled his eyes then placed a lazy arm around your waist, guiding you back inside.

“I don’t feel comfortable seeing my fiancé alone with my annoying kouhai.”

“Don’t you dare say that in front of the real adults.”

Oikawa chuckled at your vernacular, but his hand on your body only tightened. You looked at him with an inquisitive stare, then pointed to the offending limb.

“Are you going to be like this all night?”

“Why? Can’t resist me if I continue?”

You sighed before moving to poke him on the forehead.

He grabbed your hand quickly and pulled it close to his bodice, pushing you forward to lean further into Oikawa’s chest. Surprised at the action, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closing from the comfort of the close proximity. One arm was around your waist while the other was in your hair. 

You and Oikawa had always joked around, but never had you actually flirted. But feeling his large hands on your body and the soothing beat of his heart under your own, it was strange.

Oikawa whispered against your forehead, “I’m glad Shiratorizawa hasn’t changed you.”

You leaned back to look him fully in the eyes and returned in a similar tone of voice, “Don’t let it change you either.”

Oikawa had a small smile at that.

“Don’t stop on my accord.”

You jumped in surprised and tried to spring away from the brunet immediately, who slowly let go of his hold and allowed you room to stand next to him, arms still touching.

“It’s nothing like that.” You started, but Tōru’s sister just smiled and walked away, muttering about young love.

The rest of the night was thankfully uneventful, Oikawa giving you space to converse with his fellow schoolmates and you spent time playing with Takeru, his cute little nephew. You made sure to keep your words guarded around the other parents, when they commended you for your recent win at the tournament. It was weird, to say the least, to accept the compliments and praise of parents who had kids on the losing side (and they were present too! oof). At least, if it seemed your Kitagawa Daiichi friends were about to spite fire at you, Oikawa was quick to intervene and even stand by your side.

You were sure to pass out once everyone left the house, helping your mom in some light cleaning but saving the shore of it for future you.

Turning to your phone on the nightstand, since your mom utterly refused for you to use it when guests were around, you spotted dozens of missed texts and fought the urge to groan aloud.

You scrolled all the way back to the first message.

GroupChat: Caw Caw SHIRATORIZAWA ୧༼ д ͡༽୨

23:11   From: Captain-Sama!           what the fuck attached: instabook.jpg; screenshot.jpg;

23:11   From: the most tender Salami            looks like (f/n) actually took our advice and went with oiks and not miya

23:11   From: My only Okaasan/Eita            wait but what if they’ve been related this whole time?

23:11   From: Captain-Sama!           yeah it is family day

23:11   From: the most tender Salami           …

23:11   From: the most tender Salami           then that would mean an Oikawa actually does go to Shiratorizawa

23:12   From: Captain-Sama!           LMAO

23:12   From: Ushiwaka-sama!           this is not what I meant

23:12   From: My only Okaasan/Eita           we know, waka

23:12   From: the most tender Salami           but how can we confirm it

23:12   From: Captain-Sama!           (・_・)

23:12   From: Captain-Sama!           @kenjiro @kawanishi pls respond its urgent

23:12   From: the most tender Salami           @kenjiro @kawanishi help ive fallen and cant get up

23:27   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           they are not related

23:27   From: Captain-Sama!           I KNEW THEY WERE DATING

23:27   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩           lmao no way

23:27   From: the most tender Salami           I need more receipts

23:27   From: Captain-Sama!           I think my ship is sailing (´∀｀)♡

23:28   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           i don’t think so

23:28   From: Captain-Sama!           but they’re hOlDiNg HaNdS

You caught the gist of their conversation and scrolled down to the bottom, unwilling to read everything since you would have a whole hour to catch up to and with your sleepy eyes that just won’t do.

Without regard to whatever the last text was, you started:

00:57   From: do you know da wae           oiks is an old family friend

00:57   From: do you know da wae           my parents keep in touch w/ a lot of my ex-friends parents from Kitagawa

00:57   From: Captain-Sama!           oof sounds awk

00:57   From: do you know da wae           you have no idea

00:57   From: Kenjiro (`へ´*)           wait your celebratory dinner was w/ the ex-friends you just beat ??

00:58   From: do you know da wae           yeah…

00:58   From: Kawanishi ✩꒳✩           oof

00:58   From: do you know da wae           oikawa was the only one from Seijō willing to talk to me without the need to shank me

00:58   From: do you know da wae           and even then they made sure to verbally roast me at every opportunity

00:58   From: the most tender Salami           wow

00:59   From: Not-my-libero-Yamagata ( ´ ▽ ` )           we love you (L/N)!

00:59   From: Captain-Sama!           just know that we’re always here for you! ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

You smiled then and offered thanks, before shutting off your phone and finally getting a good nights rest after such an awful day.

The next day at breakfast, you just smiled and complimented your parents for their thoughtful dinner and how it was a success – saying nothing about the tension between you and the friends you used to have. It was your final day home and there was not a single thing you wanted to do.

Most of the people who lived around this area went to either Karasuno or Aobajōsai and then was no point in meeting up with your current friends at Shiratorizawa just to have to go back home and then head back to school the next day. You cherished the meal with your parents, but both your parents had plans later in the afternoon. Your mom sensed your anxiousness and tasked you with small chores.

You finally were interested when she directed, “(F/N), Kageama-kun forgot his leftovers yesterday. Mind bringing them over?”

With a quick nod and changing into your outdoor shoes, you headed out the door and a few streets over to the Kageyama household.

The windows were shut and no signs of light were seen. Kageyama seemed like the type who would do anything to keep himself in top form and you wondered the possibility if he was out jogging or something.

Ringing the bell, you heard some movement inside until the setter finally opened his front-door in surprise.

“(L/N)-san?”

You lifted the container of food into his point of view, “You forgot to bring some food home last night.”

“Oh, thanks.” He took it from you and paused, “Would you like to come in?”

You nodded at his polite gesture and greeted with a familiar sight. This was not the first time you were in his home, but it surely seemed the same from the last time. Kageyama seemed like a clean, tidy sort and undoubtedly his parents were as well.

You noticed his family picture displayed proudly on the center coffee table, an innocent smile on Kageyama’s face as he was nestled between his two parents. It looked like a picture-perfect family, reflecting only questions as to what happened to them now.

“You know, I can’t believe that I have never met your parents.” You commented, looking at the picture and him following your gaze.

He hesitated before replying, “I’m not surprised.”

You looked at Kageyama fully, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think they’ve ever watched me play.” He admitted, eyes on the floor at the sad realization.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.” He had a tense expression on, “But I like your family.”

“Thanks, they’re pretty embarrassing.”

“I..” Kageyama was hesitating in his words a lot, concerning this subject, you noticed. “There are no words to say how thankful I am toward your parents, for what they said and do.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You comforted, putting a hand on his shoulder. “They really are proud of you. And so am I, really. Believe me, great things are in store for you.”

That, in your mind, marked the notable shift in your relationship with Kageyama. Even after the weekend break for Family Day, you still were able to keep in contact with the setter. Previously, you were unsure where you stood with the King of the Court. But now with shared numbers and daily texting with one another, you were glad to have held your friendship with the blueberry.

Everyone was training for the Spring Playoffs, everyone’s distant goal of nationals constantly in mind. As the reining champions of your Prefecture, this was the time of year to prove once again why that was so. You were defending for three years straight, Ushijima standing tall as the prime representative of your school.

As the regular setter, you knew better than anyone the massive amount of pressure and training it took to get to this stage. And you made sure to prove it during the official matches.

You felt your heart physically break when Karasuno faced off against Aobajōsai. A school that even you had remembered as a fallen-powerhouse was now over-powering a longstanding rival of your own school.

Oikawa did not cry at the end of the game, but your connection to the older setter was enough to feel the pure anguish and annoyance that was raging in his heart. You wanted to just say something to the brunet, but when Ushijima rushed Oikawa after the match, you figured that it was probably not the best timing. (You also did not want to risk the wrath of the others).

You waited behind a pillar, listening to Oikawa and his unusually intimidating voice. Both alpha males turned and stalked in opposite directions and you fought the urge to call out to the setter. Rather than leaving it to another moment, one that would be much easier for him to ignore, you ran behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

He squeaked out in surprise, “Wha-”

“You deserve the world Oikawa and I know you’re meant for more than what this prefecture has to offer.” You interrupted before walking around to be face-to-face to him, “You’re going to stand on an international stage. And no one will be able to stop you there.”

He stayed quiet, eyes hard as they examined your own, as if he was trying to gauge how honest your words were.

“Besides, I wouldn’t marry a man who wasn’t prepared to take over the world.” You joked.

He cracked a small smile then, and slowly wrapped his arms around your waist. “Thank you.”

You smiled brightly, a hand on his chest while the other was on cheek, to full look at him. “I just want you to be as proud as I am about you.”

Oikawa looked away, turning to the side before returning his gaze back to you. “Why couldn’t you come to Aobajōsai?”

You were internally taken aback at the question and you were sure it showed on your face.

“I never asked before, I just accepted that my counterpart on the women’s team was on a completely different track.” Oikawa explained, voice a small whisper. “And it made me wonder how someone like you, who tried so hard against Shiratorizawa in junior high and still lost, did not even try to fight them.”

His voice was hard by the time the last few words came-out and this felt like an incredibly different Oikawa.

“You claim so hard that you care about us, about me.” Oikawa bit-out, “Then why didn’t you even try to fight for us?”

“I, everyone knew from the start-“

“You were the pillar of the team, the cog that made it run. You gave them strength and you knew that and you still left.”

You were sure this was something Oikawa had been waiting to get off his chest, a thought that had lingered for years apparently now, and were unsure what you could say to placate the remnants of your friendship with the setter.

“The fact of it all is that we cared to keep our family together even if meant not being an absolute winner.” Oikawa stated, a bruising hold on your waist now. You could not find it in yourself to push him away, “Which obviously, didn’t matter as much to you.”

“Oikawa, please.” You whispered out, unsure what you were asking for.

“Please what? To stop saying the truth or making you finally realize it?” His gaze was a predatory-kind, one you had spotted multiple times on the court and one that displayed an intimidating anger. “Are you really supposed to refer to your fiancé by his last-name?”

“Why are you being like this?” Your voice came out weakly and you barely recognized it.

“Why were we your last choice, (F/N)-chan?”

You pushed at his chest, but his hold did not budge and you were sure that your face demonstrated the absolute fear you had toward your friend of five years.

“That’s enough.” You heard the comforting voice of someone familiar along with multiple footsteps.

When you looked over Oikawa’s shoulder to see Semi’s confused one, it immediately hardened at seeing you so scared. He did not hesitate to push you two apart, standing as a shield in front of you between you and Oikawa as Kenjirō put a protective hold on your shoulder and Kawanishi scanned you up and down.

“What happened here?” You heard Iwaizumi’s voice as he rushed down the hall.

His best-friend, who knew Oikawa almost better than himself, saw the raging anger in the setter and for once and only once – it was aimed toward you alone.

The brunet took one last look at you, hard and piercing despite the addition of multiple people, before her turned away and walked back toward his team.

Iwaizumi did not leave immediately, looking at you with an apologetic disposition before following behind his friend.

“Are you alright?” Semi asked once both boys were out of eyesight.

You reassured them you were fine, but your voice could not even convince yourself.

“Oikawa might’ve been your friend, but he’s our rival now and he is trying to shake you before your final, don’t let him get to you.” Semi explained.

You nodded meekly, allowing Kenjirō to guide you back to the Shiratorizawa area. The others were quiet as you approached and you wanted nothing more than for the others to forget this ever happened.

“If only we could crush him tomorrow.” Tendou stated with narrowed eyes as he looked at your rosy nose and distraught eyes.

“Thanks, Salami.” You attempted a small smile.

“Ugh, I hate seeing you like this.” Tendou commented before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder and ruffling your hair.

Oikawa was right, to an extent. You and him had started on the same track, leaders of each respective Kitagawa Daiichi volleyball team and one of many victims to the Shiratorizawa streak. You had both felt the pure anguish of utter defeat, the fact that you had both tried your best and it still was not enough. And instead of following Oikawa’s track, you had chosen to attend the school that often broke your heart.

You wondered how long Oikawa had thought this but said nothing.

You were sure the bitter defeat was a large impetus to how he just treated you. But it still stung to know that was some pure honesty and truth in his words. You wanted the ground to swallow you up, to take away the memories of the last hour and stop yourself from seeing one of your close friends because one of your now many rivals.

Goshiki sat with you on the bus and made a point of keeping your mind off of what had just happened. It was obvious that everyone knew by now, from your captain’s reassuring stare and Yamagata putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, they were thankfully trying to keep their words guarded, at least. You smiled at the first-year, appreciative that he was trying so hard.

You saw from your peripheral that Kenjirō would often turn in his seat to check-in on you (it’s not like he was trying to hide it anyway). Yamagata offered you his spare juice box and Ushijima offered to pickup ice-cream for you on his usual night jog. It made you laugh at the offer, but accept it nonetheless since this was a rare occurrence.

Why do you care so much about people who want nothing to do with you?

Kageyama’s word rang in your mind and you thought, maybe, it was time to let Oikawa and the others go. Your heart ached at the thought, but you doubted that they shared the same sentiment about you. They weren’t staying up at night, losing sleep as they thought about you.

No, they hated you.

And when Iwaizumi texted you the next morning, you just said you were fine and it was probably for the best.

Besides, you had other things to worry about rather than people who cared nothing for you.

The next night was the finals between the men’s teams, Karasuno bringing Shiratorizawa to a full five sets, one that had you watching with baited breath. The crowds themselves seemed to have their own battle, cheering with their whole hearts to the point that you were sure you were rocking the stadium. You wished Kageyama good luck before the match, his face erupting in a rather obvious blush as his grey-headed senpai smiled and just patted him on the back. You did the same with Shirabu and Kawanishi as well.

Shirabu just smirked and Kawanishi patted your head.

Assholes.

But now you were seeing more emotion on each second-years’ faces than ever before. Yes, Shirabu and Kawanishi were salt squad and had no qualms using biting words or sarcasm. And yet the setter was much more expressive, displaying even fear and surprise as the game went on. You felt your heart surge when you saw Kawanishi get a serious face on, eyes narrowing as you saw the little hamster in his head run at full speed, guess-blocking working at it’s peak form now.

Kageyama was no exception, acting as one of the main conductors of the game and even having to sit out from his diminishing stamina. His jump serves were much better than during the Interhigh, you wondered if you should give yourself a pat on the back or kick your own ass for helping him against your own team. 

But there was no doubt in anyone’s mind, while the team of Karasuno was strong through their constant attacks and teamwork – it was Kageyama who was standing out the most during this game.

Hinata and that blond middle-blocker were interesting players, but your eyes always gravitated back to Kageyama. From his jump-serve that had even your powerhouse school on their toes to his resilient efforts to keep playing despite exhaustion, Kageyama kept your attention for the entire duration of the game.

You wondered if Kageyama’s parents were present.

You were not sure who to cheer for. Ushijima proved his unending stamina, earning point after point even when it was obvious that it was getting tiresome. It made your own shoulder hurt just looking at him. Tendou showcased the true power of the guess-blocker, eyes roaming the shorter setter with keen eyes.

All of this came to a crashing end.

21-19

The absolute winners were retiring.

Everyone was tasked with one-hundred serves, even the women’s team who had their own finals in a few more days.

Shirabu and Kawanishi were tenser than usual, you noticed during class and again during lunch. Shirabu’s not-girlfriend attempted to placate his mood with ice-cream, but she later iterated to you that in the end he just needed a long hug. You tried to do the same to Kawanishi, who simply took it in pure silence as he reciprocated the gesture.

Tendou was seemingly placated when you gifted him a home-cooked meal from a recent care-package from mom, but you knew the third-year well enough that his dark paradise was a hole in his heart that could never be replaced. Ushijima was hard to read, but nonetheless thanked you when you had given him a small cactus.

The men’s game put your nerves more at odds, despite how much you were trying to hard it with a strong face. Karasuno, a team that rose from nothing to become the team heading to nationals, they were able to beat the indomitable champions of Miyagi. It made your stomach churn at the possibility of losing to your long-term rivals at Aobajōsai.

The day after the game, everyone could observe your anxieties and had decided that maybe you needed some good luck help from home. You used to always have a ritual when you were particularly nervous and that involved a certain dish you mom made as a charm before big games and it also helped to have the words of your parents affirm your confidence. Your coach agreed to this idea, spying your shaky hands and unsure moves in practice.

Before home you stopped at the Kageyama’s, Tobio answering the door for you.

“Just wanted to say congratulations.” You greeted before taking something out of your bag. “I remember you used to love these milk cartons in junior high, so consider this a celebratory gift.”

“Thank you.” He had a small smile, one that you were sure he was not even aware of. “I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”

“Why would I be?”

“Shiratorizawa...”

“Is just a school.” You interrupted, thinking back to your ex-friends from Aobajōsai, “We all love volleyball and it’s time we all accepted there can only be one winner.”

He nodded at your explanation.

“Besides, you should come watch me win our spot to nationals.” You winked, “Me versus Seijō. It’ll be one hell of a game.”

“I know you’ll do great.” Hearing a compliment like that from Kageyama, it was strange. But you smiled anyway. “What are you doing in the area?”

“Ah. I’ve been getting nervous from seeing your game, honestly. So I was allowed to go home tonight for a good luck charm and to help calm myself.”

“Nervous? But you’re not playing us.”

“I know that!” You rolled your eyes in amusement. “But Shiratorizawa has always been considered as the winners. And no offense, nobody saw your win as possible. But you did it anyway. And the same thing could very well happen to us.”

Kageyama lightly poked on your forehead. “Boke, focus on the fight in front of you. You’ve always won against them, right? In practice matches and last tournament, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then use it to your benefit, but don’t get complacent.”

You paused and smiled, “Thank you.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“As tempting as that is, I have to get home to my parents and then head back to school.” You looked at his house once more, “Are your parents home?”

“No.” You frowned, but said nothing and waited for him to continue. “Neither of them have been, for a few days.”

“Have you heard from them?”

Kageyama turned away, “They don’t even know I’m going to nationals.”

You put a small hand in the crook of his elbow, “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Sure.”

Since then, the match between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa was spurning you on, the thought of further rivals exciting you rather than scaring you now. You could not deny the fact that seeing both your parents and Kageyama had lightened your spirits. 

And, not for the first time, you pondered over your strange relationship with the young setter.

You were not as close to him as you were to Oikawa in the past. And yet Kageyama was the one who tried just a little bit harder to hold onto you than your brunet friend. You could not deny the slight attraction you felt toward the blueberry as well, his shy and blunt nature something you were akin to. If anything, you knew better than most how much Kageyama had changed in the last few years.

But you had bigger things to worry about now.

Like going to nationals.

You relished in the slight burn in the palm of your hand at your untouched jump-serves, success rate higher than usual. And when you stood on the court itself, the name Shiratorizawa echoing as it cheered through the stands, you felt pride course through your veins.

When both Shirabu and Kawanishi wished you luck before your match, you felt the need to knock their heads together like coconuts. They tried to do it in the chillest way possible, muttering it to you with their hands in their pockets. You watched Tendou roll his eyes from behind Shirabu. Instead, you tugged them both into a hug before either could be too cool to refuse it.

Ushijima patted you on the shoulder and reiterated the tips he had given you in the gym the day before – it seemed Waka was actually watching you intently and you thanked him for his observance and helpful advice. Goshiki offered you a thumbs-up and Tendou patted you on the head for the nth time, but you smiled at both. Semi and Reon stood to the side with genuine smiles, since neither were particularly close to you, but you appreciated their presence anyway.

You were placed in the front line, your team’s starting position opting for the most attack options in the front row. The women’s team for Aobajōsai was similar in that it was a complete team, but a team not as good as Oikawa’s. 

The synergy and trust between the setter and Iwaizumi was not something that could be replicated, only earned through more than a decade of true friendship. Rather, the women’s team lacked the power necessary from their ace and it was easy for a team as skilled as yours to pick up their serves defensively. Shiratorizawa relied on the power of their ace – and for a team with the best volleyball players in the Prefecture, it was a winning strategy.

Once you were rotated to serve, the entire stadium was separated from you mentally. It was just you and the game in front of you, not the loud shouts of Seijō or the pressured looks from your older captain. You let it lose, scoring with a single touch on your serve.

A no-touch service ace – a feat only you were capable of throughout the entire game.

You relished at the cheer of your name, the powerhouse clout proven when seemingly the entire stadium erupted in your name. It was a skill you had alone, not even your older senpai’s capable of scoring on a no-touch ace. And yet you did it multiple times. You spotted the clenched fists of your previous friends and their glares in your direction. But that did not deter you from your goal as you served with your entirety.

You glanced at the scoreboard, only one more point and you would be the reigning victor.

A deep breath.

In only three sets, it was over.

You were going to nationals.

Everything after that was hazy – you remember your ace literally picking you up. She was a good ten centimeters taller than you and built like a complete brickhouse, so that definitely helped. You remembered bowing to both your current and previous friends, but not a single one of them took your hand to shake at the lineup.

If you were still unsure of your relationship, it was quite clear that they hated you now.

The men’s team, sporting their similar tracksuits, clapped along in the stands as you thanked the audience. Your star-struck facial expression must have been obvious, since your fellow teammates kept poking at your cheeks and teasing your appearance.

“No touch service ace!” Your ace yelled aloud, grabbing you in another hug and lifting you like a trophy for the second time in the last ten minutes.

“You are an absolute monster, (F/N)!” Your captain commented as she laughed, arms in the air as she celebrated as well.

You felt the congrats and praise of everyone around you – your stoic coach even smiling in your direction (a small act of praise, but that was probably the best you were going to get). You felt the murmurs of the crowd around you, an immense audience that had just watched you singlehanded slam a ball away from an entire team.

It was liberating.

You along with a few others walked out from the courts, wanting to get some air away from the ruckus at the center of it all. Some wandered to the bathroom and others wanted to immediately run to their significant others.

You wandered out in the hall and the first non-teammate you ran into was a familiar brunet, running and hugging him from behind.

“(F/N), I will break your bones and make a chair out of them.”

“Shirabu, take me out to dinner first.” You joked, arms never leaving his middle even after he turned around towards you. “Come on, I just won. Grant me this?”

Shirabu rolled his eyes, but did eventually return your hug, ears suddenly red at the endearing gesture. “You serve well.”

“Thanks, maybe I’ll give you some private lessons.” You winked, earning you a push to your face immediately, putting a good foot between you and the other setter.

You laughed, the sound echoing through the hall and earning a small tsk, signaling that you two were not the only ones in the near-empty hall. You saw Shirabu tense in your peripheral, before he stepped in front of you between you and the other man with his one arm raised as if it was a protective wall.

He had his chin-up, arm on his waist as he regarded you with narrowed eyes and a dangerous expression.

“Oikawa.” You started.

“Congrats on your win.”

“Thanks.”

“Five points in the last set were yours alone, meaning twenty percent of the win was just from your serve.” Oikawa started explaining and you were unsure where he was going with this. “That’s without counting sets to the ace.”

“I suggest you leave.” Shirabu interrupted Oikawa’s external train of thought.

The brunet ignored him. “And who did you learn that jump serve from?”

You swallowed lightly, “From you.”

“And yet it was greatest weapon used today.” He narrowed his eyes, letting it travel your form as you stood there with a tight expression. “If only I had known then.”

“Let’s go, (F/N).” Shirabu stated, eyes never leaving Oikawa.

“Go ahead. I hope you think of me each and every time someone praises you on your jump-serve.”

“That’s enough.” Another voice cut in from the other end of the hallway, “She won today and not even you can take that away from her.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes at Kageyama’s appearance before turning to you, “Of course, this is the one you actually care about.”

“Tōru, stop.” You bit out, voice stern at this convening of setters.

“Oh, cut that out. I played a part in who you are today, you and I both know that.”

“Of course, I know that!” You exclaimed as you move to stand right in front of him, “The part you played in my life will always mean something to me, but you are not the same Oikawa I grew up with right now.”

Oikawa tsked before biting out, “Good luck at nationals.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Of course I do, dear fiancé.” Oikawa emphasized the last word, shrugging as he turned to leave the way he came.

“Whatever, it’s not like you can relate to nationals anyway!” You yelled as he walked away, watching him physically hesitate at your words, but never uttering another word toward you.

Kageyama’s eyes followed him until he was completely out of view, before he turned to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, that was nothing.”

He looked as if he did not believe you, blue eyes hanging onto your appearance for a second longer before turning to the quiet Shirabu. The brunet was examining you also, eyes trained on your blank expression as if you were trying hard to convey that you were okay.

“I should freshen up or something before the ceremony.” You started, “I’ll see you in a bit. Thanks for coming Kageyama, in case I don’t see you later.”

You fought the urge to bite your lip as you ran in the direction of the bathrooms. This was supposed to be your day. The culmination of all your hard-work as you finally earn your rightful spot to nationals, it was supposed to be a day where you cheered and were happy at being at the frontlines for a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

And yet.

You opened the door to the women’s bathroom and came face to face with the vice-captain of Aobajōsai. Or as you once knew her in junior high, she held the same position while you were the captain.

“This isn’t over.” She immediately snarled.

“I know.”

“I hope you know that I hate you.”

“I know.” You stated in a low tone, pushing past her and into the bathroom. She huffed, silently observing you as you washed your face in the sink.

“Then do something!” She yelled, “I hate you so much I feel like I can just rip you limb from fucking limb! You were my best-friend for years and you still felt the need to leave!”

“I know. And I was wrong to diminish your feelings like that.”

“I… What?” She was still huffing, despite the confused expression on her face.

“You’re right. You guys were my closest friends since I first started school and I just… left.”

“Why are you saying this?”

“Because you’re right. I don’t regret going to Shiratorizawa, but it wasn’t fair of me to disregard all your feelings. I thought it was because of the rivalry between our schools, but it was because of me.” You sighed, “I’m sorry. I should’ve considered the fact that we were a family, but I’m not like Oikawa.”

She clenched her jaw but said nothing.

“I didn’t choose to stay with my friends, I chose for my future. And that was selfish of me, but I won’t change it.”

She sucked in a deep breath and stated, “I hate you.”

“I know.”

With a long-hard look, she huffed yet again. “Good luck at nationals, you bitch.”

You could not help the chuckle that escaped your lips, but she had already turned to leave out the door by the time you turned back to where she was. At least you had said your peace, there was nothing left for you to do if they could not accept even that.

The prefecture ceremony was a blur, names announced and cheers erupting at each team-member. You remember looking over to Aobajōsai on multiple occasions – it seemed they were all looking at you. No matter what was happening or who was being called, you could almost guarantee that a good amount of them were glaring in your direction.

It was liberating that you could brush it off, no longer as affected as you would have been even a week ago.

“Congratulations, (F/N).” Ushijima commended as he stood towering over you.

“Thank you.” You bowed, “Your advice really helped.”

He nodded, before turning to speak to other members of your team.

“Congrats again.” Shirabu greeted with a smile.

Kawanishi said nothing as he wrapped his arms around your middle for a quick second before backing away. “You earned it.”

You rolled your eyes, unsure if he was referring to the game-winning victory points or the ‘hug’ he had given you just now.

But you loved them all anyway.

They were your family now.

Your coach started practice the same as any other day, as if you had not just earned your way to nationals seemingly the day before. You wondered if you had just dreamed up the last few days, the real match taking place soon which is why you were training so damn hard. Your ace raised a brow as you were all instructed to do more jump-serves but did not grumble aloud unless face with another consequence.

When the entire team had finished their round, the coach gathered everyone into a circle to address them.

“Hopefully, the last few days have taught you the importance of the jump-serve.” Her eyes travelled the group until they landed completely on you. You felt multiple eyes of your teammates do the same. “You could completely shut-out your opponent with this attack, stopping them from ever connecting and letting them simply suffer defeat without ever touching the ball.”

You raised a brow at her morbid description but kept on listening.

“There is no doubt why (F/N) was named MVP of the match. But do not rest on your laurels, enjoy your break but don’t get lazy.”

The reaction was instantaneous.

“We have a break?!” Your captain exclaimed in obvious excitement.

“I’ll see you all on Monday.” Your coach stated vaguely, before turning and walking away.

“Hell yes!” Your captain yelled, “Let’s clean-up faster so we can get homecooked meals, yes?”

You felt the air of amusement and laughter in the gymnasium, happy to finally go home on this warm Friday evening, without the worries of practice over the weekend. Maybe your coach was not that bad after all.

And when you woke up mid-Saturday morning in the comfort of your home, guessing maybe around ten, you stretched and relished in the rare enjoyment of sleeping-in. Waking at nearly five in the morning every day, just to jog of all things, was taking it’s toll on you. You had to learn how to enjoy life more, you mused with a small smile.

Your mom knocked on your door before entering, “You have a visitor sweetie. I suggest you freshen-up. I’ll make breakfast for the two of you, but then I have to leave!”

“Ughisdfhis.” You murmured into your pillow as your rolled over.

“Or maybe I should just invite Kageyama-kun to your room so he can see how you really are.” She teased.

Immediately you were up, springing out of bed at the aforementioned name. You grabbed an outfit you packed the night before, rushing into your bathroom to brush you teeth and look presentable before the young setter.

By the time you headed downstairs, you were as clean and crisp as a bloomed daisy.

“Good morning, Kageyama-kun.” You greeted, “To what do I owe this visit?”

He greeted you in kind and explained, “I wanted to congratulate you like you did to me before..”

You walked over to him and suddenly a box of avocados were thrust into your view, quickly grabbing hold of it as Kageyama rushed in into your arms.

“I’m sorry! You gave me milk and I remember in a magazine you said you liked avocados! I thought…!”

You laughed at the sentiment, happy that he had thought about you but amused that he had resorted to the secondhand words of a magazine of all places. “Thank you, Kageyama-kun. I love it.”

“Are you sure? Because I can –”

“Stop worrying so much. It’s a present from you, of course I’ll love it.” You put the box on the floor and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem.” You were openly staring at him, eyes trained on his flushed appearance as he shyly attempted to look away from your strong stare. “Boke, stop staring at me.”

You chuckled, turning your gaze to the side before back to him. “There’s just something about you that I like, Kageyama-kun.”

It seemed as if he stopped breathing, expression similar to a fish out of water.

“Like, like-like?”

You chuckled, “What? Am I not allowed to?”

“No!” He seemed exasperated, hands raised as if to stop you. “No… I’m just surprised.”

“Why?”

“Oikawa…”

“Has only ever just been a friend.” You quickly finished the sentence for him.

“Or Shirabu…”

“Has a semi-girlfriend who would literally kill me.”

“Oh.”

You had a brow lifted, already expecting this surprised and unsure reaction from Kageyama. He was always socially stunted and did not hold it to him that he had yet to actually respond to your confession. Kageyama stood, wide-eyed and barely blinking, staring straight into your eyes as if looking for a hint of farce.

“I like you, too.” He stated plainly and if not for the seriousness of the situation, you would had chuckled at his solemn tone of voice.

“That’s reassuring to hear.” You responded, smile on your face widening.

“Are you sure you like me?”

You chuckled lightly, “For someone who claims to like me, it seems as if you’re pushing me away.”

“No!” Kageyama urged, “Just making sure, boke.”

You rolled your eyes, smile still prevalent at his words. This was the same Kageyama who was labeled as King of the Court – and for good reason too. He was relentless and exuded confidence in the one medium that barely anyone could match his all-around skill. There were times, as you watched him on the court, that you were utterly impressed with his abilities. And yet now..

It was clear that Kageyama was one thing right now: unsure. And you found the need to somehow reassure him, to let him now fully and transparently that he was the complete object of your affections.

So you stepped toward the now shy setter and took his hand in yours. Widely smiling, you were about to ask him something before he suddenly interrupted.

“Would you like…” He paused, looking to the side before turning back to you. “Would you like to date?”

“I would love to.”

He smiled back, tightening his hold on your hand. It was quite clear that the entirety of your own could fit in his palm – it was a nice feeling. Unlike the multiple times that the situation called for being your hand held, like with Oikawa being an ass or the occasional Shirabu (like when he was dragging you away due to embarrassment), this felt right.

“How about today? Are you free right now?” He asked, mustering more courage now knowing that you would most likely say yes.

“Sure, just let me get ready and we can get brunch.”

Your mom was not at all surprised when she returned, seeing you getting ready for your first-date ever. Kageyama was still waiting in the living room, hands clenched at the top of his knees while the television played ignored in the background. It was evident from the expression on his face that his mind was reeling over the past hour and over the implications of the next one. You were not the only one nervous, but this was Kageyama of all people, you understood him. If only there was a way for you to convey this to him.

Kageyama overheard your mom’s declaration of happiness at the situation and fought the urge to blush, was he that obvious? Your mother, uncaring of the rather uncomfortable setter sitting in her living room, walked out of the kitchen to shoot him a thumbs-up and ink. When Kageyama only blushed harder, your mom laughed and held out her hand, your father slapping an annoyed twenty bucks into her expecting palm.

“Don’t make me regret trusting you, boy.” Your father warned, a pointer finger in Kageyama’s direction as he was dragged away and out the house by your mother for ‘privacy.’

You shoved the door closed behind you as they left, back against the wood once both were gone. “Don’t mind them, they’re embarrassing.”

Kageyama smiled, then stood and hesitantly took your hand in his. “No, don’t worry about it. I love your family.”

You felt your own expression widen as it matched his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze in yours. “Thanks. Where to?”

Kageyama nodded, saying nothing as he guided you out the house and down the street. You had good idea about where you were headed, Kageyama was a man of routine and rarely strayed from his likes unless necessary, so simply entrusted your walk to him.

You peered up at his handsome visage, black mop of hair sitting naturally with a small rosiness dusting his cheeks. He was Kageyama obviously, but much different from the one you went to junior high with. This was a man weathered and you appreciated his journey from dictator to kind blueberry, happy to have seen his growth.

You lifted a free hand to push some of his longer bangs back behind his ear, the feeling unnatural to the poor setter, who immediately froze at the physical contact.

“You’re so cute, Kageyama-kun.” You complimented, before turning back to your route and lightly tugging on his hand to keep walking.

“Boke.” Breaking his stupor, Kageyama looked to the side and muttered in a low voice. “You’re the cute one.”

You fought the urge to laugh, but wanted to do something to reflect your feelings. You knew that a kiss would nearly cause the setter to explode and debated it as your stared at his lips and later at his cheek. Your train of thought must have been obvious, since Kageyama’s eyes widened unsurely.

Knowing you did not want to implode this poor boy’s heart, you took his hand in yours and placed a harmless kiss.

He was red the whole day. 

[junicai]

Aria + Her Personalities with NCT Units

Aria + 127 = ‘Maknae on Top’ Aria

aria runs this unit

not literally, but definitely figuratively

the boys will do literally anything for her if she was to ask them 

lowkey its cute

it’s not like she abuses this power though

... not often

but it’s entertaining to see it happen once in a while

for the most part, aria is pretty well put together

this is in part, due to the fact that 127 was the first unit aria debuted with

and was therefore given a certain set of parameters to act within

but also partly due to the fact that aria just doesn’t like needing help 

the boys try to respect that as much as possible

while also maintaining some level of supervision over her because aria’s also the type of person to never ask for help, even when she does need it

it’s rare to see them coddle her though

especially on camera

yes they look out for her and take care of her to the best of their ability

but they leave her to her own devices the majority of the time and just observe from a distance

aria likes being independent she don’t need no man

however occasionally

on rare occasions

cannot stress the rare enough really

you’ll get to see the softer side of aria with 127

this aris is the one that goes looking for someone’s attention and affection

not that she needs to work hard to get it, there are eight (8) men here fully capable and willing to offer exactly that

normally this really only happens when she’s sleepy and/or sick

for example

in the BKLYN BOYS vlogs when they were all getting ready to go to sleep

aria just

popped herself in between mark and yuta on the bed

and snuggled into the warm covers on the bed knowing full well that yuta would cuddle her immediately after she stopped moving 

and then went to sleep

she slept through that entire segment actually 

just smooshed in between the two boys and curled into a little ball around yuta’s arm that she’d hugged to her chest and refused to let go of

jungwoo kept shushing the others when they got too loud

now a sick aria

is the poutiest baby you will ever find

she’s miserable and she wants someone to hold her

that is all

this is the sole occasion that she will not vehemently protest taeyong or doyoung’s coddling 

and johnny usually pops in every few hours or so to make sure she’s feeling alright

jaehyun stays away from her room for the most part

but he’s the person to secretly sneak in strawberry milk to her under the guise of a new blanket

tldr: aria is an independent woman who occasionally needs love and reassurance and affection from her older brothers.

Aria + Dream = ‘132 Hertz’ Aria

aria is here to heal your heart

happy and positive vibes only, you are not permitted to be sad around her

aria in dream is the equivalent to one of those uber-happy antidepressant 

but this is one that actually works

*poof* no more sad ~

as opposed to the cooler and more capable image she projects when she’s with 127

aria with dream is much softer around the edges

it’s not just the concepts that give that impression, although the stark contrast between the futuristic plastic skirts and the baby pink sweaters really makes for a bit of whiplash

the vibe is totally different with dream because they’re all so close in age

it’s less of a older brother/younger sister relationship

and more of a rag-tag group of best friends who just happen to make music together

 aria doesn’t have to focus as much on trying to maintain a certain image for the media 

because the other boys helped her shape a more fluid one

when aria’s with dream, you can tell that she’s comfortable, and that the boys are as close with her as they are with each other 

dream is her home, it’s an indisputable fact 

aria gives off intense girl next door vibes with them 

very smiley, very happy

she doesn’t get doted on when she’s with dream - she gets the same treatment as the rest of them, and that involves relentless and unforgiving teasing over events that happened years ago  

there’s a very set role that comes with being the maknae

and being a girl on top of that only put more restrictions on what she could and couldn’t do

with dream those restrictions were lessoned a great deal

the fact that she’s not the ‘baby’ of the group meant that she was given the space to really grow as a person and show off different sides of her character

she got to show that she was a reliable person as well as a cute one

someone who was dependable, and someone that the members came to when they needed emotional support

aria really likes taking care of other people, and she’s given the chance to with dream 

one can see it in the way that she watched chenle out of the corner of her eye after she had slid on a slippery part of the stage - and stuck out a hand to make sure that he didn’t make the same mistake

the way that she was the first to notice that renjun had slipped away from the microphone with damp eyes when dream had won their first award

she’s no parent to the boys 

and they’re no parent to her

but the dreamies look out for their own.

growing up together through teenage years is hard, and arguments are unavoidable 

but aria’s not the type of person to back down from a fight 

normally she tries to be the mediator

but if she gets dragged in, then all bets are off

renjun picked a fight with her once

it was over the smallest thing in the world, completely insignificant

but the entire group was running on less than sufficient sleep

renjun snapped, and turned his anger on aria

who in turn, started yelling back

it wasn’t malicious (anyone could tell that)

it was just two teenagers who were overworked and overtired and frustrated at the same thing that they couldn’t yell at

so they were yelling at each other instead

aria slept in the 127 dorms that night

but come morning, they had both apologized

if there is anything that aria hates more than fighting, it’s holding a grudge

tldr: aria’s someone with layers, someone who is funny and bubbly but is strong and sometimes stubborn, but ultimately wants to be there for her boys the way they are for her.

Aria + WayV = ‘The Neighbour’s Kid’ Aria

aria’s been adopted into wayv

that’s not up for debate

you can ask kun for the papers

but her personality so to speak really depends on who it is from the group that she’s interacting with

because she’s not a part of this sub-unit 

it means that the only people she has real interactions with are those that are also in her own sub-units

namely ten and lucas, but previously sicheng as well

with lucas and sicheng, aria’s a lot rougher around the edges 

the boys are like older brothers to her, so she’s used to a little rough-housing when it comes to them 

affectionate verbal abuse? 

lets go with that

whereas with ten

she’s coddled within an inch of her life

ten is the Only member who is allowed treat her like a baby

and the only reason is because he was so insistent, that aria just eventually gave up protesting it 

when aria’s with yangyang

she finds that she tends to act more her own age

with her position in the group and subsequently the industry as a whole

its easy to forget that she is still a newly turned 20 year old 

someone who’s meant to still be acting like a teenager sometimes

who’s still meant to be finding her alcohol tolerance in crappy bars 

who does stupid things but makes the best memories out of them

with yangyang, aria does a lot of those stupid things

and get in trouble for it afterwards

impulse control gone out the window 

she lets herself be a little more free and lets the reigns go lax for a while

sometimes its nice just to sit back and experience life for a bit 

when it comes to kunhang and dejun

they would be the members that she’s least close with

so although they’re not strangers, things are still kept a little bit more on the professional side

as most of their interactions happen while they’re ‘on duty’ so to speak 

the boys as a unit really go out of their way to make sure that she’s comfortable 

especially kun

he doesn’t baby her like ten does she’d never appreciate it

but he does care for her a great deal 

aria’s very honest around kun

she doesn’t like beating around the bush anyway

but with kun it’s like she can’t lie 

even if she wanted to 

tldr: aria’s like the neighbour’s kid. she’s in their house a lot and they’re not really sure why? but they’re happy she’s there and sad when she has to leave again.

Aria + SuperM = ‘Favourite Child’ Aria

maknae aria taking her final form

she’s evolving 

it’s 127 aria but on steriods

 because taemin called her cute in their first practice

and she ran with it

in awe at the fact that these men haven’t died yet

she’s so? cuddly? and just unlike any aria that nctzens are used to?

jungwoo taught her how to do aegyo 

and aria levelled up from a level 2 to a level 93 in a week

now with superm

aria gets babied and she gets babied hardcore

its pretty unavoidable when your oldest member has eight years on her

and calls her 183cm tall best friend ‘adorable’

so its no wonder she’s the baby of the team

she likes it though

more than she thought she would 

jongin has absolutely zero qualms with picking aria up at random points in time

and just giving her a piggyback 

aria spent 50% of mtopia walking, and the other 50% being carried by jongin

its like how a kid would fawn over a puppy

no matter what she does its, ‘아 귀여~’

seriously save her

at first the change in dynamic unsettled her quite a bit

she wasn’t used to literally having zero responsibility in a group 

but suddenly when it came to superm 

aria was having things taken care of for her - not because they thought she wasn’t capable of doing them herselves

but because they were taking care of her

aria had to grow into that mold so to speak 

it wasn’t something that was forced - the dynamic did develop naturally over time 

aria was stubborn in the fact that she wanted to prove that she deserved her spot on this team just like everyone else

she didn’t need to prove it to anyone besides herself, as baekhyun later explained to her

but slowly, aria became more comfortable with looking to the older members for help instead of struggling on her own

the first time aria really understood that the guys were really just looking out for her, was in their first few months of practice together

they were eating in one of the practice rooms together, sitting on the floor

when taemin leaned over to take the egg from on top of his rice to put on top of aria’s instead

 aria had looked up, surprised, and taemin had shrugged 

“you haven’t eaten yet today, right?” he offered by way of explanation

it was true, aria hadn’t eaten that day, but she hadn’t expected taemin to notice

she hadn’t expected anyone to notice actually, given that it was a dream schedule that she was coming from, and mark had graduated the year previous

aria had blinked twice, before smiling awkwardly, nodding a small thanks

tldr: aria is precious and deserves to be treated as such. 

[apprenticemiyara]

The apprentice tea party

I got too ambitious with this because there are so many amazing apprentices that I want to include. If I missed out yours, it’s not because I don’t like your mc. I just ran out of space/time/energy 😭.

Anyways, thanks @rachel_doodles_ and @sadbeansoup for hosting this meaningful event, I really enjoy looking up all of the mcs and learn a bit about them💕.

The mcs included are:

(Right to left, bot to top)

Absinthe belongs to @absinthe.grimmur (IG). She looks cold and scary at the first sight, but the more I know her, the more I find how sweet and gentle she is!

Alexandrite belongs to @daffnie_draws (IG). She so cute and sweet that anyone who sees her would want to protect her!

Cecilia belongs to @noble.mink (IG). She looks like an energetic and lively character, and her comics are so cute I can’t wait to read more about it!

Dominique belongs to @lucinaryy_ (IG). She’s a mix of dragon and angel, a perfect mix of power and beauty! She stands out in the crowd, and you just can’t unseen her!

Perse belongs to @blubcake_25 (IG). She looks cute and sweet, but if you cross her, she’ll unleash hell on you, and we just love a tiny volcano.

Nirah belongs to @crymaticartwork (IG). She’s a beautiful and mysterious lady who can go feral if needed, and her comics are soooo appealing I wish we’ll get to learn more about her!

Valarie belongs to @aaliyah-draws. She’s one of the first mc I stumble to when I first enter the fandom. Valarie is cute and smart, but sometimes a little clumsy. All these traits made her seem more real and so relatable!

Faye belongs to @aloneylimes_ (IG). She has such interesting character design that I wish we could get to know more about her!

Emzy  belongs to @sallysoulx (IG). Her design is unique and beautiful, almost like an adventurer! She also has some mischievous sides that makes her oh so adorable.

Polly belongs to @galacticbill (IG). She seems cold and stern, but shes in fact a shy and sweet bean that I feel is very underappreciated.

Lisa belongs to @ lisaladvi (IG). Shes such a tiger and godmother, but under that fierce eyes, she’s very compassionate and wants to protect everyone she can. How can we not love a hero like that!

Izem belongs to @vkusnodonis. She has a unisex type of beauty, and the more I get to know her, the more I fall in love with her nature! She’s very dynamic. Quiet but passionate; peaceful but would stand her ground so firmly; rational yet very easily embarassed.... all of these makes her so lovable!

Nell belongs to @greyhands​. I think she might be the first mc I saw, I’m not exactly sure, but the moment I saw her, I fall in love with her! The details, the designs. The aesthetic looks like she’s straight from the game! And I just LOVE how soft and yet determined she looks! I can totally imagine her arguing with Asra while Asra coward into the corner lol.

Julith belongs to @jyuukichannart. She’s lively and passionate about life, an attitude that I wish I can have no matter under what circumstance. I think this may be why people love her so much too.

Eris belongs to @ savenkey (IG). She’s also one of the first mc I got to know in this fandom. She looks very demanding and high maintenance, but under that skin she’s very caring and understanding.The way she interacts with Lucio melts my heart everytime 🥰

RD belongs to @wolfbatspace. They are like this cute friend everyone enjoys teasing, but if someone actually hurt him, they’ll fight an army to protect their little bean RD.

Lazarus belongs to @soleiluos (IG). He’s cute and sweet, but kind of chaotic sometimes. I wish we’ll get to see more of him and Portia’s interaction in the future.

Caragh belongs to @guhzoontight​. I’ve wanted to draw her for a while, and I finally did! she seems full of attitude and her comic is always so fun to read.

Prim belongs to @hoopsies​. She seems cool and almost too rational most of the time, but sometimes showing a bit of her soft side. It’s no wonder people are so drawn into her! She’s full of wonder and we all want to learn more about her!

Isha belongs to @bastart13​. Isha gave me the feeling of a pacific that I think even when Lucio accidentally knock over them, they would just stare angrily, maybe a line of warning, and that’s all.

Nikki belongs to @ninniworld1988 (IG). She’s very sweet and considering, and will always give you the support you need! We just love a positive character like her!

Eize belongs to @eiizera​ (IG). She is strong and very reliable, totally someone I’d wish to befriend with in real life!

Clara belongs to @dreamer-rena-artz​. She’s beautiful and sassy. Very sassy LOL, and I think that’s what’s cute about her! That’s why her love is so precious! And if you are so lucky to have her love, you better cherish it!!!

Maya belongs to @blue.loves00 (IG). She’s a cute mc who seems a little shy. Every one of her CG is so beautiful and warm, and I’m always happy when they make a new post about Maya.

Onoraa belongs to @maffidraws​. At first glance she looks cute and harmless, but I think she’s secretly VERY sassy. Her meme comics always make me burst out laughing.

Arkius belongs to @chocogummiesx​. He is hot. period..... no I’m joking 😂!! He seems cool and kind of rebellious, and that’s one of my favorite combo for character designs! The CGs they made? omg it’s one artist we need to appreciate!!

Tatianna belongs to @wackycherry​. She’s one hot pirate queen who has strong attitude and you don’t want to cross! But under that fierce look, she’s very caring and protective to those she cares.

Sil belongs to @silvester69sil (IG). He is an adorable boy who loves smooching (I think). I wish his artist parent would draw them more, so we get to know this cutie more!

Reina belongs to @rachel_doodles_ (IG). She’s so confident and energetic that I just love her vibe!

Delilya belongs to @the_citrouille (IG). She’s so gentle and elegant, like a big sister we can rely on!

Venefica belongs to @sadbeansoup (IG). She looks like an experience warrior that I wish we’d see more of her story!

Prentiss belongs to @arcanaprentiss​. One of the first mcs I found too! Her story is a little sad, and when I found Prentiss, I just finished Julian’s reverse end, so it kind of cured my soul a little bit.

Leonor belongs to @starry-arcana​. SHE. IS. ADORABLE! But she doesn’t need anyone to protect her! If you think she’s an easy target? Good luck lol.

Phoenix belongs to @joandarkart​. I love how he is so colourful and lively. He gets hotheaded very easily, with Julian by his side, they are a pair of loose canon (omg). Just imagine the troubles they could get into makes me wanna laugh.

Julianne belongs to @timmys-and-scribbles​. Also one of the first mcs I found!! Her little moments with Julian are so cute that I just slowly fall in love with her! And though she looks calm and peaceful, she gets fluster so easily and that’s super adorable.

Kiki belongs to @frozen_mocha_latte (IG). She’s very chill and chill and supportive, though sometimes she can get hotheaded! She likes to tease Julian so much and it’s super satisfying to see him blush😩👌

[oftenderweapons]

Mold Me New (4) – Taehyung

A Small Town Swoons story

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Frog — for now)

Wordcount: 4.7k

Genre: ceramic artist!Taehyung, divorced!reader, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Angst, Slice of Life

Rating: 18+ (for future smut and explicit thoughts)

Hello to my readers!!! Welcome to the Small Town Swoons Universe!🥰✨

In this episode: Frog and Taehyung have become very comfortable around each other, getting used to each other’s presence. Their bond grows even more once a ghost from the past comes back to haunt Taehyung. His natural response is growing even closer to Frog, relying on her completely for comfort and… a distraction.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Angsty themes in the second part (an “ex girlfriend” comes back, Taehyung puts up a wall, just a little). Frog starts asking herself questions about sexual attraction. There are some innuendos here and there. Taehyung receives unwanted attentions that make him deeply uncomfortable. That should be all.

The parts that look good were edited by the miraculous @joheunsaram​ (I recced one of her pieces right here in my main blog 💜)

In case you like my writing, here is my directory for idol!AUs, scenarios and imagines. Here is Tae and Frog’s music companion (spotify playlist, the playlist in case you wanna create it on other platforms)

Enjoy 💜✨

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

Taehyung had become a comfortable addition to your life. He was steady and reliable — from your bi-weekly lessons, to drinks with his friends on the weekend.

Terry had extraordinarily managed to stay friends with both Jimin and Hoseok, occasionally taunting them, but overall keeping things neutral and platonic.

However, the one who was struggling with friendly, platonic feelings was you. It was difficult not to notice the way Taehyung always managed to predict your objections, your movements and your needs.

You felt a connection that made you feel weak, queasy, like clay gently sprinkled with water.

His lessons had become a secret guide to people and relationships.

The first time he had actually placed you at the wheel, helping you throw your first small bowl, he had given you the epiphany of a lifetime.

“Don’t let it dry too much. Too much water will mess it up. It will become too pliant and it won’t hold up.”

A revelation had struck you just then and there. That was it. The rule to love. You had bathed your ex husband in reassurance and affection, and just like that he had melted underneath your touch, and he had turned into nothing. And the love had run out.

“Every shape has its specific requirements,” Taehyung had explained, dipping your hands in the basin and letting the droplets fall from your fingertips. “Wet hands, but not drenched,” he had reminded you from the previous lesson. With a small nod he had invited you to press down the pedal lightly. “See, here we go. The clay will show how much water it needs. Easy on the pedal. Very slow. You’re warming it up. Be gentle. You’re not sure it’s good. Just like with people. Easy at first, and once it works you speed up,” he had smiled at the material underneath your hands.

“Gentle. Easy,” he had corrected you, his sinewy fingers gently leading your hands, recalibrating the pressure points. You had watched the greyish water stain his hands as he helped you. “That’s the secret to good things.”

In the following lesson he had taught you the importance of separation and remotion.

“It's been a few hours* what you have right there it's a leatherhard*. It's hard enough to withstand some pressure, but not ready to stand on its own,” Taehyung had shown you how to cut the bowl from the base, to turn it around and let it dry evenly.

“Still it wouldn't survive the kiln yet,” he explained. “You need all the water out. Water weakens the structure and your piece would crumble. And you would need to start anew,” Taehyung's delicate fingertips had lifted the piece, turning it around. “They're like children. One wrong move and, bam, you lose their trust and you need to earn it back, from ground zero. Yes, Frog. Just like that, easy with the pressure or you'll leave fingerprints,” he had scolded you, exhaling and closing his eyes once he noticed the damage had already been done.

You had looked at him with a sheepish grin, smiling apologetically.

What you didn't know is that he had scowled at the realisation that he simply could not keep a long face at you.

Taehyung had discovered an even weaker spot for you.

He had realised he liked you a lot.

You were quiet, observant, and incredibly intelligent.

And he liked chatting with you on your nights at the pub. And he liked your fashion sense.

He liked leaning his head against your shoulder, he was just extremely sorry he had to be half drunk to be brave enough — or to be somehow excused for the excess of clinginess.

He liked you, the cheerful and polite smile you wore while talking to Jimin and Terry indistinctly, like they had the same importance to you, no matter you had known Terry for ages and Jimin for a few weeks.

He liked the way you trapped the tip of your tongue between your lips while you focused on a piece, or the fact that once he had stopped by the bookshop, only to spot you curled up on an armchair with a fuzzy blanket on your shoulders while you read a book.

He had studied the sleepy smile you had offered him as he handed you a cup of tea that had just been brewed in Seokjin’s café. Taehyung had felt young and foolish as his smile mirrored yours. He’d wandered around the few shelves in your shop, studying a few books and asking questions about the organisation of genres on the shelves.

He asked for recommendations and chuckled as he noticed you growing increasingly chatty, disrupting your streak of quiet to passionately discuss authors and plots and publishing houses, little naive art books and detective novels and half unknown poets from entirely unknown countries.

It had been an amazing morning, with a lazy yellowy light floating in from the large windows.

After that, his visits to the bookshop had become more frequent, even stopping by during a reading date — which of course was not the two of you having a date, but rather other people coming in, mostly couples from university, to explore the shelves together, have that niche romantic academia experience, which sometimes meant that professors also came in with their husbands or wives. The loveliest of them all was the Ancient Greek professor, a seventy year old man who always came in with his wife, opening the door for her and walking around with her hand in his, usually stopping in front of the Russian section to see if they could find anything they liked. Taehyung had helped you create some artsy reading nooks that your customers truly appreciated.

The last month or so had been a blessing, for the both of you.

You both liked the steady, warm presence you could offer each other: he liked having you around because he felt less lonely, and because it was so easy to focus on you rather than the discomfort of loss; you enjoyed his respectful guidance, like a toddler still stumbling on their feet finds comfort in the parent walking right behind them; you felt free to move autonomously, but you also felt him there, never looking away in chase you needed a hand to hold. You had found a companion.

And with that many things started getting out of your control.

One in particular.

It was Tuesday afternoon and as usual the bookshop was closed. You parked your bike in Taehyung’s driveway, grabbing your tote and blushing a little as you fixed a classy, old school ribbon in your hair, covering the hair tie of your ponytail. You felt fickle and juvenile.

You felt romantic.

You felt ready to be pampered with tender guidance and soft touches, still strictly limited to your hands, always after mannered glances asking for your permission. With eager joy, you opened the door to the studio, only to notice an extra wheel beside the usual one.

And one extra person.

A woman.

Currently running her hand down Taehyung’s arm, toying with his fingers.

You blinked a couple times before you rebuilt your happy facade. “Oh, hi! Hello there!” you greeted with a smile.

Taehyung immediately took half a step away from the woman.

“Hello Frog, how are you today?”

“Happy,” you chirped in a way that had Taehyung warning immediately. He knew that kind of gleeful tone was dedicated to other circumstances — books, your friends, squealing when you managed to make a good piece. He frowned also because you weren’t one of those easily excited people.

What could have possibly made you want to show off so much happiness all at once?

“I’m glad,” he commented before noticing the extra wheel and suddenly remembering the guest.

“This is Dolly. Dolly is a fellow artist. She’s from a small town nearby. She is designing customised tableware for a resort cottage nearby. She’ll work with us today.”

You nodded, grabbing your apron — the only apron, you noticed — and got ready for the task of the day.

“Would you like to try making a plate for today?” he asked, taking out some premixed clay and preparing it on the table for you to wedge. “Or we could do some glazing while Dolly does her thing.”

“No, I could use two teachers,” you replied, trying to be inclusive, shushing all the unmotivated jealousy. How unreasonable!

“She won’t let you get away with things just because of your cute smile,” Taehyung warned, the stern reprimand sugared by the half hidden compliment.

“I almost don’t make mistakes anymore!” you complained before walking to the table, rolling up your sleeves and beginning to pat the corners of your piece of clay.

“Do you need me to do that?” he asked, feeling twice as apprehensive as usual.

“You could wedge some for me, Tae?” Dolly called, preparing a large disk and bringing it over to the table. “Please?” she cooed.

Taehyung agreed, feeling more comfortable at your side, both your foreheads growing sweaty with the warm spring weather and your arms getting sore as you worked the clay until it reached ideal plasticity.

“How was yesterday? I didn’t manage to bring you breakfast,” he mentioned almost casually as he started giving the final twists to the clay body.

“Oh, it was okay. Slow Monday. A couple teachers brought in some stuff to print. One of my parents’ friends asked me to grammar check her dissertation. I had a few books brought in for safety rebounding. Same old,” you said, sitting at the wheel and throwing the clay down. “How should I go about the plate?” you asked, looking up at Taehyung.

He was suddenly enchanted by your beauty as you looked up, a few rebellious locks escaping your hairband and making you look so unreal, so breathtaking and young.

Sometimes he forgot you were young.

Sometimes he even forgot he was young himself.

He was living the kind of fondness his grandma had always told him about, the kind of fondness she had met once sixty, ready to conclude her earthly struggles by herself. Instead, she had met an honest man, a widower who understood her past and her present.

The two had shared a quiet, tender feeling until she left. They were friends, they talked about the weather and gardening, went on walks, had picnics and went to church together. He always held her hand and kissed her forehead with a reverence Taehyung had never met.

Except for you.

He knew the only love he would never doubt was the one that accompanied his granny through her last days. He knew she passed a happy woman and that relieved him immensely.

Being the son of a single mother meant many complicated things, which included his mom moving half a continent away when he turned fourteen, chasing a man he barely knew.

He was glad he had his grandmother then, and the guys. Jimin and his family, although very complicated.

Taehyung didn’t understand the inner dynamics of relationships, and his lack of experience during high school had definitely not helped.

It’s not like he hadn’t tried, but he didn’t feel comfortable. He was always trying to learn while all the girls he had dated expected some sort of latin lover for unknown reasons — probably because of a rumour started by Jimin and Jeongguk, which had clearly, miserably failed.

All he could do was show kind devotion and gain continuous inspiration by the women in his life.

Pottery itself was an art he had learnt from his mother, who in turn had learnt from her mother. He had liked it from day one, like he had been called to it, made for it, even.

“Taetae please, could you help? I think I’m stuck,” Dolly whined, stopping to look at her attempt of dish. “What do you think?”

You tried to ignore the way her voice hurt your ears, leaving some clay aside to handbuild fruit for decoration to add later. Once done, you remodeled the amount for the plate in a round ball against your apron before throwing it a bit too aggressively on the wheel before starting to center.

“See, I’m not sure about the lip. Should i give it a wider edge or make it a bit… I don’t know. I kind of wanted it flat, with a slightly raised lip,” she pouted through her words, but you kept your focus, centering the piece flawlessly, repeating the procedure a few times, feeling the movements terribly familiar and comforting.

“It’s a good idea,” Taehyung confirmed, “a bit of a modern twist.”

“Aw, you’re so nice!” Dolly cooed, batting her lashes at him just as he turned to look at you.

“You’re still centering? All good?” he asked, noticing you stuck on holding the half dome under your palms, ready to bring it up again.

He let you go through the motion, finding himself the excuse of checking your technique only to stare at your strong but precise hands.

You went on without answering, letting the clay grow against your palms before feeling it peak and changing your grip, pushing your thumbs across and down.

“Good job, Frog,” he praised you, watching your face light up in a shy smile while you kept working the ball onto a large, thick disk.

“It’s a lot more than usual,” you commented with a sheepish grin.

“You’re doing perfect,” he reassured you. “Keep it even. Remember the ashtray-turned-jewellery plate?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Use the side of your hand. Press down harder,” he directed you. “Use your whole body, Frog. You’re handling a lot there, you need to be a bit more aggressive.”

He bit his lip before testing the waters. “Make it wetter, Frog.”

You felt yourself freeze for a second. You swallowed and dipped your dominant hand in the water.

“Don’t make it drip,” he corrected you.

“I’m gonna drench it,” you replied.

“Taetae—”

“Just a second, Dolly,” he replied absentmindedly. “Drench it, Frog.”

You obeyed.

“Gonna touch your back,” he warned you before you felt his forearms on your shoulders, pressing you down. “Use your whole weight. You need to make it to three inches. The thinner the easier.”

You felt his voice close to your ear.

“When it starts to drag, it’s too dry. Hug the side,” he rose and placed his palm against yours. “Just hold it. No pressure. Lovingly.”

“Tae—” Dolly called again.

He closed his eyes. “Just keep pressing,” he told you. “Tell me.”

“Can you help me with the lip?” Dolly asked, batting her lashes.

“First, make the base wider. Flatten it nicely, till the edge, then pinch the wall up. It will fall a little as it dries, but maybe we can find a way to secure it. If you make it short enough it should hold,” he explained professionally.

“Could you show me, please?”

He nodded. “Wait, Frog, stop there. Watch,” he commanded curtly.

You slowed down the wheel before stopping, holding your hands for a second before making sure that your piece didn’t get out of control.

“Okay,” you told him once you were ready.

“Come up here, I need you to see the details.”

You reached the two other people, Taehyung taking Dolly’s spot at the wheel. He fixed his stance before he wet his hands. Instinctively, his left palm went to hold the side while his right fingers grabbed a needle, measuring the thickness of the plate. “Just around two inches. And here it goes thicker, you see? Around three inches,” he showed, sticking the needle in.

“Did I do wrong?” Dolly asked, awfully dramatic.

“You just need to make it thinner,” he commented, already dipping a small sponge in the plate before squeezing it in the plate, still being very careful.

“Now, Dolly first used her fist — the side of it — and pulled it toward her to spread the clay lower. Repeat that several times. At least six or seven, based on the pressure you manage to apply. Then she used her fingertips, center out. Like this,” he said, showing the motion.

You felt ready to throw yourself out across the glass wall head first.

His middle finger pressed down with such firmness that you couldn’t not think of it doing very inappropriate things to your body.

You felt dumbstruck at the sudden thought, like it was some sort of exceedingly vivid dream, too realistic to actually be a dream.

“Rib next. Dolly didn’t use the rib properly here. She was too light.” He corrected the woman’s mistake, using his chest to press down, exhaling loudly as he did. “You have to go deep, Frog. Stay there. Be a bit stubborn.” He grinned. “Hold position.”

You nodded, licking your lips.

Dolly’s eyes were glowing with arousal next to you, his brow arching once he put down the rib after five minutes or so. “Wet fingers,” he reminded you, wiggling as gimey, grey water rolled down his wrists, the vision unfairly erotic for the dirt covering his hands, dripping down the hypervascular back of them, the veins of his forearms significantly thicker.

You shook your head with a grin as he wiggled his digits. “You put one inside, on the outside and press them together. Make sure you dig deep with the one on the inner side. You’ll want to press down firmly to collect all the material you’ll need for the lip. In this case, we keep pushing out, to further widen the plate and give it a short, erect lip.”

You were out of your mind, nodding just in hope to get away from torture.

“Oh, so that’s how I need to do the lip! Thank you Taetae!” Dolly exclaimed, giving you a way out.

You caught the chance immediately, sitting back at the wheel, drenching your hands before reapplying water to your piece.

“Wetter,” Taehyung called immediately.

Oh.

Your brain froze as you realised that wetter you were, indeed.

“Make a fist,” he ordered as he poured more water on your piece. “Press the side of your pinkie knuckle in the middle.”

You looked at him, crouched beside you, his mop of black hair tumbling back as his dark eyes met yours.

They hid so much longing, so much need for comfort. You read them immediately, nodding.

He placed his hand on top of yours. “Push down, Frog,” he murmured, in a way he hoped only the two of you would hear over the sound of the wheels’ engines. “Harder, lovely.”

You held your breath, his fingers and palm swallowing your fist entirely as he slipped his thumb into the hole created by your index and thumb. “Pull it towards you now,” he spoke softly. “Hard and slow, Frog,” he reminded you.

Your brain was far, far away, filled with questions about how you now found yourself comfortable about seeing Taehyung as a potential partner.

Duh. Because he knows you, dummy, the reply came instantly

Because he seemed to do everything just right for you, and when he ended up making a mistake, he seemed to know exactly how to ask for forgiveness and actually learn from his previous wrongdoings.

“Do I keep going?” you questioned, looking at him.

His face lit up slightly. “Yes, darling.” He let you go slightly after, cleaning up his hand.

You missed his guidance, but you convinced yourself you could do without.

“Slow down. Test the thickness,” he reminded you, offering the needle. “You did perfect, Frog,” he murmured with a fond grin.

“Really?” you reacted incredulously.

He confirmed, nodding as he stuck the needle along the side. “We need to work with your fingertips along the sides, here,” he showed, closing down the small puncture.

You wet your digits and placed your middle and ring finger on the center, slightly angled, letting them slide all the way to the edge as the wheel turned.

He assisted your outer hand, supporting it and showing how much pressure was needed.

“Keep going like this for a couple minutes. Make sure that it slims out. Just a few minutes—”

“Tae, do you think this is right?” Dolly asked with her squeaky voice.

His left hand grazed yours reverently as he parted from you.

Taehyung cruelly realised he was head over heels for you.

“It looks just fine to me, Dolly. I think you could give it a last test and then let it dry.”

“Yes, maybe you could give me some hands-on guidance with the next one. I could learn from a… master like you.”

You almost scoffed, giving a choked snort before you could actually control yourself.

“Uhm… I’m sure you just need to refine your timing.” Taehyung tried to evade the request.

During the rest of your lesson, you managed to throw two plates, even building a few decorations that would be added once the clay was leatherhard, in about twenty-four hours.

“I’ll add the decorations tomorrow,” Taehyung told you as you washed your hands. “Unless you want to stop by during lunch break.”

You dried your hands, thinking about his suggestion. “I think I’ll be busy tomorrow. You know, the Spring fair is soon and there’s some stuff I need to do.”

He pouted and nodded. “I’ll trim and decorate then,” he agreed. “If we’re having our Friday lesson, we can bisque them.”

You smiled and agreed.

“Maybe I can throw some plates for you and show you how to decorate while the kiln is working,” he reasoned, helping you to remove the apron once he noticed you were stuck in it.

“That would be lovely, if it’s not too much work for you!” you replied happily. You deposited the apron and caught your bag, fixing it on your shoulder. “It was a pleasure, Dolly!”

“Likewise!” she replied with a smile so sour it would have made milk curdle. “I’ll see you again!”

“Yes, for sure!” you cheered back, making your way out.

Taehyung accompanied you, almost as if you didn’t know the way. “I have a book to return,” he said, making you frown. He didn’t borrow any book from you.

“Uhm,” you started, trying to understand his intentions.

“Come in, I have it in the kitchen,” he said, leading you through the backyard.

“Taehyung,” you called, once you reached the door to his house, keeping your voice low. “Are you okay?”

He opened the door and led you through. His house was incredibly traditional compared to the way you had expected it to be.

“I’m… I just needed to check in on you. Dolly can be a very… loud… presence,” he said, grabbing a glass and a pastel pink porcelain pitcher. “Lemonade?”

You shook your head. “She is indeed very… loud.”

“I’m sorry,” he sat down and drank. He looked sad. Worried. “Are we okay, Frog?”

You stood at his side, looking at him before delicately placing your hand on his shoulder. “I’m okay, but are you? You look terrified of being in there with her.”

He placed both elbows on the table and held his head. “I’m just very tired today.”

Your hand moved to his nape, feeling the corded muscles. “Tell her you’re tired and that you’re calling it a day. I can make up an excuse for you.”

You were reminded just how much he had clung to you for the whole lesson. If she was giving him special attention, he clearly didn’t want it.

“Would you do that?” he asked, suddenly hopeful.

You frowned. “Of course?” you reacted, playfully disappointed in his lack of faith. “We can stay here. I can read, you can nap or watch the tv. We just need to make her understand it’s time to go. I’ll hide my bike and wait for you here. You’ll go in there and tell her Jimin or someone called and they need your help.”

“Are you sure you want to spend the afternoon like this? I mean, it’s your free day.”

You shrugged. Your plans were going home, getting rid of the awful tension running down your back and possibly going to the shop for some cleaning, maybe work on that dissertation… “You’re my friend. And yes, I want to help you.”

Taehyung knew that some people would have been highly disappointed by being called ‘friend’ by their crush, but that made him feel warm, like he was wrapped in a cosy comforter. “Go hide the bike,” he said, grinning like a child.

You grinned right back at him, starting down the corridor with long strides. He helped you choose a nice spot, hiding your bike between the house and the bushes tracing the outline of the garden.

After fifteen minutes or so, you heard Dolly’s annoying voice as she said something like “call me if you need help with Jiminie”, dramatically bidding Taehyung goodbye.

From the window, you watched her get inside a car in front of the house, Taehyung appearing a few minutes after. “We. Are. Free,” he panted theatrically as he flopped on the sofa, throwing his head back.

“Why did you let her come?” you asked, staring at him from your spot by the window.

“Because she’s an old friend. I met her way before she became like that,” he admitted. “I hadn’t seen her in ages. And now she’s clearly trying to get back in my life, using the commission as an excuse.” Taehyung rubbed his temples.

For half a second you wondered whether it was a good idea to ask. Would it make any difference? You realised it would. “Were you… In a relationship?”

“If for ‘relationship’ you mean ‘let’s fuck him so I can complete the friends collection’, then yes.” Taehyung propped his forearms on his knees, exhaling heavily.

You hissed, feeling slightly uncomfortable. You didn’t know what to do. “If you’d like to rest, I can go home,” you said, looking at him with cold, uncertain eyes.

He met your stare, suddenly feeling confused, scared even. He frowned and crossed his arms, trying to put some distance after he noticed his refuge turn hostile to him. “You can go,” he said, shrinking within his shoulders, trying not to show how much he feared being alone.

What he didn’t know is that you could feel the hurt in his voice and the pain in his eyes like needles sinking in your skin. You walked to him, touching his hair hesitantly, feeling wary about not receiving spoken permission.

You watched him bloom under your touch, his lungs inflating with a large inhale. He exhaled way more slowly, taking his time. “Do you want me to go?” you asked, letting your hand slide down the side of his face.

He shook his head, placing his hand atop of yours, holding it there just in case you foolishly thought he didn’t need your touch anymore. “Can you stay?”

You placed both your hands on his hair, cupping his face. “I’ll read, you take a nap.”

He watched you move your free hand away, putting down your tote and grabbing a book. He grabbed your wrist, staring at you with his dark puppy eyes. “Can you sit here? Close?”

You smiled and nodded, settling at his side before he grabbed a blanket, spread it wide and laid down, nuzzling closer, inch by inch, until you found his head on your lap.

“Can I?” he asked, adorably, his cheeks puffy and his eyes glittering vivaciously.

You smiled back at him and nodded. Fondly, you moved your book aside, watching him close his eyes contentedly as your thigh became his pillow.

After a couple pages, you almost thought he had fallen asleep already, only to realise you were mistaken once he reached for your free hand and brought it to his hair.

“Cuddle?”

You smiled even brighter, tracing the shell of his ear before starting to hand-comb his soft, dark locks.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered gently, barely holding back as you looked at his face, peacefully relaxed.

Your heart was a messy thing, but in that moment you realised that, could you have a new one, you would gift it to him and never ask for it back.

Taglist is open

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

[turquoise-skyyyy]

The Solution To Everything(Is Hair Dye)

Note: Human AU! First time posting writing on tumblr lmao, and I wanted to try a bit of a different writing style... so there’s that.

Just a little writing practice paired with Marellinh fluff n kinda angst ig :)

Word count: uhhh i went overboard

Blurb: Linh is lonely, with no one in the world left by her side, hurt, by all that she’s lost, and possibly has an ever-so-slight crush on her elusive blonde neighbor. Marella needs someone to dye her hair within the day, and Linh happens to have exactly what she needs, in more ways than one.

When Linh wakes late in the night, startled from her dozing state on the couch in her dimly lit living room to the sound of persistent knocking, she certainly doesn’t expect to find the blonde neighbor she’s been inconspicuously watching— she’s still trying to convince herself that casually watching the girl enter her house anytime she got the chance wasn’t stalking— for the past three weeks since she moved in next door to be on the other side. And when the panting girl in front of her sucks in a breath, Linh definitely doesn’t expect the words that spill from her lips—

“Can you dye my hair?”

Linh blinks with bewilderment, still trying to process that the girl is here, on her doorstep. Not to mention really, really pretty. Annoyingly so, to the point where Linh’s tired brain has to avert her eyes to focus on forcing her mouth to form words.

“What?”

The girl smiles apologetically, and suddenly Linh’s throat feels dry. The girl’s beauty is much more manageable from a distance, through subtle glances out of the corner of her eye across the hall.

“My roomates— screw them— dared me to dye my hair bright green by tomorrow. I lost a bet.” She looks away. “And you have green hair dye, so...”

Linh stares dumbly, trying to puzzle out how to respond to such a random, odd request. Though she moved into the apartment complex almost a month ago and her maybe sort of possible little crush lives just next door, her mind is still trying to register the fact that they have finally crossed paths. And the girl has come to her, no less.

“How do you know I have hair dye?” The hair dye is something she’s gotten to send to Tam. The silver in his hair is something he kept in long after she cut it off and cut off their parents. He still hangs on, and Linh wants to change that, even if they haven’t spoken in a year. She isn’t going to send it though, she knows. She always chickens out. Her brother’s silence for the past year isn’t easy to face. Still, she buys brightly-colored dyes frequently on the off chance that a lightning strike of confidence will hit her. It hasn’t happened yet, but it’s a comforting routine anyway.

The girl blushes, scratching the back of her neck bashfully and shifting from foot to foot. The movement draws Linh’s eyes to her shoes. They’re ratty sneakers, and upon closer inspection, it looks like there are messy, multi-colored words scribbled all over the sides. The weird shoes match the long, tacky rainbow socks that go up to her knees and the bright, tie-dye, too big sweater draped over her surprisingly small frame, with black leggings to top off the outfit underneath.

“Well, I saw you coming back in from the supermarket yesterday and there was a box of green hair dye poking out of the bags...” she trails off. “Oh my god. I sound like a stalker, don’t I? I swear I’m not.”

Linh can’t help the delirious, sleep-deprived giggle that escapes at the words. It’s ridiculous to her, that the girl she’s been following and observing as subtly as humanly possible because she’s just so pretty and Linh wants to know everything is the one worrying about being a creep.

The girl grins at her laughter, the question still burning in her eyes, which are an even brighter shade of blue than Linh realized up close.

She clicks her phone on, checking the time discreetly. It’s late, nearly midnight. The hair dye takes at least an hour, most likely more, to finish. She has an exam at nine the next day that she still hasn’t studied for and she hasn’t yet messaged Tam for her daily one-sided check-in that he never responds to, or even reads.

She looks back up at the girl with thin braids threaded through thick, golden locks, framing beautiful ice blue eyes set in a still blushing face, waiting for her at her doorstep with an open gaze and just maybe, an open mind.

Her stupid, fluttering heart makes a decision before her rational mind can catch up.

“Come on in.”

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

The girl, who introduces herself as Marella, asks her if she’s always so quiet.

Linh snorts, resisting the urge to point out that Marella is the one invading the house of a relative stranger in the middle of the night. Of course, there’s also the fact that she let her, and that isn’t even considering how flustered the blonde makes her. Especially in such close proximity, where she can smell the faint lavender wafting off her hair. Linh never would have pegged her for a lavender girl.

And when she leans closer to touch up the roots again, she realizes that Marella smells of something spicy. It’s good, comforting, like the home-cooked meals made with love that Linh only ever got to experience in other people’s houses because hers never truly felt like home, or the smell of wood when it was burned in a desperate attempt to keep the warmth in the winter because woolen hats and group hugs were never quite enough to warm everyone’s toes.

Linh has to remind herself to keep working her fingers through the hair.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh is thankful when the summer sun finally leaks away and is replaced by autumn wind. There’s something calming about the crisp air blowing through the hair that escapes from tightly-zipped thin hoodies and the leaves bleeding red and gold. She much prefers it to the heat of the summer, or the harshness of winter, the temperatures of which she can never quite escape from completely.

When she pulls open the doors to a nearby cafe and lets the smell of warmth and caffeine wash over her face, and falls into line to order, she isn’t expecting to be behind a girl with a mane of blonde hair that’s streaked through with bright green that hurt the eyes and small braids that sway when she shifts. And Linh’s weeks of watching from a distance pay off— and the hard-to-ignore green certainly helps— because she recognizes the girl immediately.

It’s Marella, sporting the new, significantly greener look that she gained by Linh’s own hands. Linh blushes at the reminder of the night weeks ago. She’s surprised to find that it was the first time she’s seen the girl since their unintentional night together. She’s been so occupied with settling in, getting organized, figuring out independence, and attempting to reach out to her absentee brother, that she hasn’t even noticed the girl’s absence. It seems her creeper skills have gotten rusty, which should make her happy but instead causes the barest amounts of disappointment to creep up. Even from afar, Marella is lively and brightens, or at least eases, the monotonous days that all seem to bleed into each other in one eternal, never-ending passage of pain.

“Hey!” Marella’s voice jolts Linh from her thoughts. “Nice to see you here!”

“H-Hi!” Linh stutters. She thinks the girl’s impossibly blue, intent gaze will always catch her off guard.

Her gaze shifts to the green in Marella’s hair, the harsh coloring softened by the sunlight streaming in through the windows of the cafe and bouncing off the bright strands.

“Your hair looks nice.”

Marella touches a hand to her neon green-streaked look and smirks. “All thanks to you.”

Linh’s cheeks warm at the praise. By the time they reach the orders taken down, Marella has somehow convinced Linh to sit and drink with her. She takes Linh’s wrist lightly and guides her to a table, an action that makes Linh’s face heat again. She looks down at the thin fingers encircling her arm to make sure she isn’t dreaming, and is elated to find that she isn’t.

And sitting in that booth, sipping their warm coffees and exchanging even warmer smiles, Linh’s romantic fantasies from afar suddenly seem a lot closer than she ever thought possible.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh isn’t sure exactly how she’s gone from watching her neighbor from a(very far) distance to being dragged into her unfamiliar apartment to be introduced to her roommates, but she can’t say she’s complaining.

As nerve-wracking as it is to be inside Marella’s house, she has to admit that the chance of pace from routine is something she would have been too scared to do herself. Had Marella not knocked on her door and practically shoved her out of her own with an evil grin on her face and into the girl’s shared one just minutes before, she might have stayed holed up in her own apartment forever, seldom leaving and only ever for basic necessities.

Patterns are nice, reliable, and most of all, consistent, something that Linh has never had before, and up until a year ago, had given up on attaining, but there’s something undeniably exciting about throwing caution to the wind and launching herself into a new situation.

However, there is the slight problem of said new situation happening to be making a good impression on her crush’s roommates, who are all staring down at her stoically in a solid line of four with their arms crossed and their gazes narrowed. It reminds Linh of the stereotypical movie tropes in which the overprotective dad interrogates the unnecessarily perfect Mary Sue’s new boyfriend when she brings him home for the first time, and she has to force herself not to laugh in the faces of the people glaring down at her. They’re all at least half a head taller than her, excluding the brunette girl, who has the most terrifying expression of them all on her face.

Three hours later, Linh is laughing tears of joy and drinking hot cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon with the scary roommates in their warmly lit, cozy living room, who’s first impression couldn’t have been more wrong.

The scary-looking brunette girl isn’t actually one of Marella’s roommates, instead living with the other brunette, her brother, at home with their parents. Her name is Biana, she has an attachment to the color purple that everyone else seems to make fun of her for, and an affinity for randomly throwing out the others’ clothes and replacing them with ones she deems good enough to be seen out with.

Her brother, who’s name is Fitzroy— everyone teases him about this— is better known as Fitz. He is smart, put-together, and as Marella refers to him, their group’s resident “tired dad”. He’s dating Dex, the nerdy but sarcastic actual roommate of Marella.

Then there is Sophie, who was in the kitchen when Linh first came in, and Keefe, the former being Dex’s cousin and Marella’s second roommate who is constantly done with everyone’s shenanigans; Marella claims that Fitz, the actually responsible one, can never be bothered to do anything about their spontaneous endeavors most of the time. The latter, on the other hand, is the most mischievous of the bunch who Linh also knows the least about. His smiles and grins are the most abundant, but also the most weighted. Linh suspects there is a lot more to him than she’ll ever be able to fully grasp.

Linh’s surprised with how well she fits in with these people. They seem so much lighter and freer than her, a girl still tainted and chained down by the past and the experiences that came with it. They welcome her with open arms, and hours later, when dusk falls and it’s time for her to leave, the wrap her up in a hug and make her swear she’ll come back .She sinks into the hug, thinking that after knowing their light, she can’t possibly stay away.

Linh will forever owe all this new warmth in her life to Marella, who is perhaps the warmest of them all.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Fluffy blankets are good. Warm, cozy, comfortable, the kind of little thing in life that makes most people feel fuzzy feelings of nostalgia as they think back to the times they wrapped themselves up in warm blankets on the days they were feeling overwhelmed by the world, when they sat in messily-built blanket forts with their best friends and told scary stories during the devil’s hour with only a flashlight illuminating their evil grins, or the fights with their siblings to get the bigger portion of the blanket when they were forced to share a bed.

Unless that person is Linh, in which case all chances of that were stripped away by a pressured childhood where no room felt safe when her parents were near, friends were disapproved of, and anything that could knock the Song family from the top was discarded before either of the children could protest.

But whether it’s a childhood like Linh’s, or one where everything went perfectly, the fact can generally be agreed on: fluffy blankets are a good, good thing.

But Linh doesn’t think she was ever aware just how perfect fluffy blankets can be until they came piled in the arms of a blonde girl with tiny braids and green threaded through her waves at the door.

“Movie night?” Marella asks, wiggling a laptop in her other hand. “I noticed that you don’t have a TV yet.”

Linh lets her in, eager to spend more time with just her and especially eager to share another night with just the two of them. The idea of being in a dimly lit room wrapped in blankets with their bodies pressed together and only the light of a screen illuminating their faces doesn’t hurt either.

They curl up together on the couch without a second thought, as if they’ve been doing so all their lives. Linh adores the way Marella’s head fits in the crook of her neck like the last missing piece of a puzzle, and holds her breath as the blonde reaches across her and presses play on Netflix once they’ve settled.

When the girl falls asleep on Linh’s shoulder an hour later, she cuddles closer to the warmth of the fluffy blanket and her— crush, or love, maybe, she doesn’t know— pressing to her side.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

As nice of a distraction as Marella and her strange roommates can be in the months that pass, Linh has to come crashing back down to reality at some point. And crash she does, when the banging on her door at nine o’clock at night opens to the face she knows as well as her own.

Her brother, approaching her for the first time in years, bringing nothing but news of their father’s death.

Linh knows she should be feeling something. That she should be falling to her knees and sobbing dramatically, like a protagonist in a drama novel, or maybe grabbing his hands and begging him to tell her that it isn’t true. Instead, when Tam bears the news, all she can do is match his emotionless expression. After all, what is there to feel?

And why is she in such desperate need of comfort when, truth be told, she feels no suffering?

She can’t explain her mind’s twisted way of thinking, but she does know that it’s what leads her next door, and what pushes her to throw her arms around Marella’s neck when she comes to the door decked in pajamas and those long, irritating rainbow-striped socks that she loves so much.

Linh likes to believe that it’s her petty grudge against the annoying socks that makes her cry on Marella’s shoulder that night, but hiding from the truth isn’t as easy as she likes to believe.

And when Marella wraps her in a fuzzy blanket that rains tufts of fine fluff on their heads and pulls her in close, Linh has a hard time believing fluffy blankets aren’t the answer to all the world’s problems.

Confidence has finally come to her, and she’s able to give Tam a box of hair dye before he leaves. She doesn’t know if he’ll use it, or when she’ll see him again, but the smallest spark of light in his eyes when he takes the dye and turns it over in his hand is enough hope for her.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- 

When Marella appears at her door in the middle of the night this time, weeks since Linh’s father died and they last saw each other, Linh is surprised that she isn’t surprised. After all, surely there’s something seriously wrong if the only thing she says when someone comes knocking at her door at exactly three minutes past midnight is, “Did you bring the hair dye?”

She pulls the blonde inside softly, takes the fuzzy blanket still draped on her couch from their movie night, and wraps it around the girl’s shivering frame. Marella starts to sob on her shoulder. Her fingers wrap around Linh’s neck and latch onto her, bringing them both down to the carpet when her knees give. Linh immediately wraps an arm around her and holds her close.

Linh doesn’t know what’s wrong, but she does know that Marella is leaning on her for support, and she does know that she will always be here, for as long as the blonde might need.

When she finally stops crying and lets Linh reach gentle fingers to wipe her cheeks, and pulls out electric blue hair dye that brings a smile to both of their faces, Linh has a hard time believing that hair dye isn’t the cure for everyone’s sorrows.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Linh finds it funny that one can promise themselves one thing-- that they are going to try as hard as they can not to connect with others as a means of protecting themselves, for example-- but still end up breaking the promise if the right temptation crosses their path.

And her temptation? A certain blue-eyed blonde with now bright blue highlights who’s devious smirks and snarky words can snap Linh’s resolve in a second. She knows she should hate her for it, but surrounded by mischievous roommates with twinkling eyes and light smiles filled to the brim with warmth, she can’t help but snuggle closer to her weakness.

Her weakness, who is currently failing to dominate the board in a (not-so)friendly game of Christmas Monopoly. Marella informed her that it’s a holiday classic when she dragged her inside the house just an hour before, but judging by the rabid way the players are screaming at each other, Linh can’t say she agrees.

“What do you mean, the empire kind is the wrong kind?” Keefe screeches. “Duh, it’s easier!”

“For you, maybe! But it’s not the original!” Dex retorts.

Keefe jabs a finger at the board. “Then why are you still playing and why are you in second place?” He throws his hands up. “If you’re so mad about it, then stop playing and let the rest of us noncomplainers win.”

“Noncomplainers isn’t a word, Keefe,” Fitz says, idly shuffling the assortment of multi-colored money laid out in front of him. As banker, he’s the calmest and least angry of the bunch, though there’s something oddly menacing about the way he rearranges his money with careful, poised fingers.

Keefe, Dex, and Fitz are circled around the board, all nursing mugs of hot cocoa(which Linh has realized is a sort of trademark for them) in between bouts of shrieking, while Sophie left a little while ago to buy original Monopoly just in case Keefe and Dex destroy the board. Linh laughed when the exasperated blonde said it, but now she can see why it’s a legitimate concern.

Linh curls her cold feet in from her position on the long couch, and Marella automatically shifts the fluffy blanket they’re sharing to fully cover her toes again. Linh smiles up at her gratefully, and Marella offers a small smirk back. Then she goes right back to screaming. Linh debates calling Sophie and asking her to bring back ear plugs too.

“Whatever,” Biana scoffs. “You’re all sore losers.”

She is currently winning, as she has been for the entire game, and she glares down at the boys huddling around the game board from her perch in one of the armchairs.

And on it goes. At the end of the night, when Monopoly money is scattered on the floor and a smoking dinner that’s just a bit too salty is shared and hastily wrapped presents tied with glittery bows are exchanged(Marella is too impatient to wait for Christmas morning), Linh finds herself full of more love and joy than she thinks she ever has been in her entire life. There’s something oddly comforting about being with people who care for and accept her, even if it’s by default or association. Having someone who cares is a rare light in her life that most people take for granted.

Especially when there’s the smallest chance that the person who truly holds her heart returns her feelings.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- 

It’s the night before Christmas and Linh can’t sleep.

It’s the tossing and turning type of ‘can’t sleep’, the kind where Linh lies awake long after dark waiting for her mind and conscience to stop running around in circles around her head, the kind where her insecurities grow claws and fangs and sink them in skin-deep, where there is no light slipping through the cracks to keep them at bay.

And Linh hates that kind of ‘can’t sleep’.

It makes her antsy, on edge, and the urge to pace itches at her feet. The unfamiliar surface of the floor of Marella’s bedroom only makes matters worse, and as softly as she tries to twist under the thin covers, it doesn’t take long for the rustling on the floor to alert the blonde girl dozing off above her.

Marella slides to the floor sleepily before Linh can whisper a protest and lands next to her on the mattress with a grunt. Linh rolls over to face her, and is startled by how close their faces are. She can count the light freckles on Marella’s nose and cheeks when she’s this close. Moonlight is streaming into the room through the cracks in the shutters of the window, painting streaks of glowing white on the blonde’s face. She always looks beautiful, but Linh finds there’s something especially intimate about her in this moment. The air is suddenly buzzing with palpable tension, making her palms go slick with sweat and her mind hyper-aware of every movement. She can’t take her eyes off Marella.

Then, girl of Linh’s dreams breaks the stillness, leaning forward and pressing soft, sleepy lips to her own.

She’s asleep by the time she draws away, but Linh is shaking with adrenaline. It’s the moment she’s waited for so long she can hardly think of a time where she didn’t want the blonde.

And yet.

Linh’s the kind of girl with baggage, with the kind of ‘skeletons in the closet’ that people run away screaming from, not because it’s scary, but because it’s messy. Complicated. It bogs everyone who knows down, making every action in her presence laborious and painful with the knowledge of her past. Even her brother, who once promised to be by her side forever, wouldn’t stay.

She knows it’s irrational, but suddenly she can’t imagine how to face Marella.

She slips out of the apartment in the early hours of the morning so Marella’s blue gaze can’t stop her from running away. But despite her misgivings, the insecurities that still haven’t retracted their claws, and the voice in the back of her head whispering that she has to have imagined it, Linh can’t stop touching a finger to her lips, long after she’s left the buzzing moonlit atmosphere that allows slips of self control under the cover of night.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

It’s been weeks. Three weeks and five days, to be exact, and Linh still can’t figure out how to face her.

With every day that passes, she can feel the strong bonds they formed weakening. That’s one thing about relationships. They need an equal amount of effort. If Linh doesn’t put in enough, the object of her affection slips between her fingers before she can blink. That’s how she lost her brother, her friends, and any last semblance she might have had of “family”.

That is, until Marella.

She was persistent, even in the beginning, fighting to spend more and more time with a mildly resistant Linh, until she found it impossible to stay away. Her light is unlike any Linh has ever known, wild and fluid like an eternal flame that can’t be doused. That flame kept Linh alive for all these months, and yet here she is, ignoring it. Maybe even putting it through pain.

It takes a month, but it finally comes to her.

She realizes now that love isn’t something that affects only her, and that she isn’t the only one to win or lose in it. She isn’t the only person in love.

Love is two people, three people, ten people, a hundred people. Love is everyone who forces themselves into her life with the intent of staying no matter how dark it gets. Love is the flickers of light in the night and the bold streaks of sun in the morning. Love is the twinkling stars splattered across a purple painted sky.

Love is illumination. Love is clarity.  Love is a path paved special, with different twists and turns for everyone.

Love is...

Marella.

Love is Marella.

-ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ-

Weeks of radio silence after months of talking nonstop is hard to bounce back from, and they both know this well.

But Linh comes back anyway.  She comes knocking on Marella’s door exactly a month after they last talked, this time she being the one to approach at random in the middle of the night. When the door opens and she smiles apologetically, pressing a butterfly kiss to Marella’s forehead and pushing a big blanket and a bright, eye-melting color of hair dye into her arms in a silent apology, all Marella does is smile and pull her back in for a real, proper kiss.

Yeah, neon green and fluffy blankets are the solution to everything.

[buckyswinterbaby]

Always By My Side — Chapter 1

Click here to read the Prologue.

Synopsis: The fates have spent millenniums correcting the daily mishaps that interfere with soulmates ever meeting. Will they find a way to bring together Bucky and Zara, two people separated by time and circumstance, just as they’ve done a thousand times before?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!OFC Ziarah Heartwell

Warnings (will change with each chapter): flashbacks, PTSD, mentions of past sexual assault, angst, bits of fluff

Word Count: 3,791

Acknowledgement: I’ve created this AU alongside my best friend Taylor in roleplays, along with many of the plots and scenes that will be featured. I’m posting this with his expressed permission as we both continue to work on the story in our chat. Credit for its creation goes to both of us.

Please like, comment, and reblog (I love that shit). The divider was created by me, please credit me if you use it. The gifs are not mine. Click here to fill out the form to be added to my tag list!

Note: Here’s chapter one of my new series “Always By My Side”. It takes place in a soulmate AU where a bond is triggered when one or both halves experience a life threatening level of distress. The bond allows them to see imaginary versions of their soulmates to help support them while they wait to meet their other half. Just a warning, up until we reach the current time in the story, there will be significant time skips for plot progression’s sake. The time changes will always be labeled.

Addition: I said I’d tag you when I posted my WOC OFC story so here’s chapter one, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer !

[Bucharest, Romania -- 2016]

The Romanian streets were bustling with early morning energy as Bucky took the final steps outside of the clearly worn apartment complex that he had been calling home for sometime. He seemed unfazed by the sixteen year old girl practically jogging to keep up in step with his longer strides. He had grown rather accustomed to her presence and her commentary since she first appeared to him in 2014. It had been during his final brainwashing session with Hydra before they fell. He couldn’t help but view her as a banshee of sorts, harkening the end of what remained of his mental stability. He couldn’t fathom another reason as to why he would hallucinate an opinionated teenage girl.

Even so, he found comfort in their conversations and how at ease she seemed around him. Almost as if she had always been with him, a piece of himself that still saw the good that was left. Never addressing him with fear or apprehension, never as the monster and killer he was forced to become.

Her features were young and innocent, seemingly unscarred by life despite the bruises that graced her skin--which he was never sure why they existed. At first, he feared that she had been one of his countless victims who had returned to haunt him in her afterlife, though the theory became less likely to him as more time passed.

The defined coils of her hair were pushed up into a messy bun, edges laid smoothly to her forehead in defined loops. When she first started showing up, Bucky had attempted to make sense of the witty phrases and references that so frequently adorned her clothes but he had long since given up on ever understanding them. He had to admit that the shirt she wore that day, a middle finger painted with pink, yellow, and blue, was quite the fashion choice. Not that he could particularly judge with his similar pieces of clothing that were practically identical besides in color.

The pair made their way down the familiar stretch of pavement on their way to the outdoor market that Bucky had made a habit of visiting. He had found that a reliable schedule throughout his week helped him better grasp the passing of time, a fact that his companion had been informing him of for weeks before it finally seemed to click.

The girl’s nose clinked as they neared the fresh fish stand, just as it did every week. Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle at her childish antics as they were so few and far between for someone who seemed quite mature despite her appearance.

“It smells like cat food,” she whined, making a clear act of breathing primarily through her mouth as she jogged to keep up. “How are you not gagging?”

“Not all of us have the luxury of being a figment of someone’s imagination, Zara. If I start gagging, I have a feeling a few people will start to notice.” The man gave her a knowing look. Drawing attention to himself was the exact opposite of what he wanted during his brief outings. “Besides, I can’t say I’ve smelt cat food or have any intention to. So I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

Zara rolled her eyes as the smell began to dissipate the further they moved past the stand, her trademark smile working its way onto her features. “Could’ve had me fooled, I thought that was your guilty pleasure. I can’t say I’ve ever intentionally gotten a whiff, but when I feed the outdoor cats at my house, it’s kinda unavoidable.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly as if it was the most natural thing in the world for an imaginary person to have their own home and animals.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed as he narrowed his eyes down to her smaller form beside him. “You don’t have a cat because you aren’t even real,” he retorted. Somehow the idea that she could be real made her presence in his life even harder. The idea that she was just some girl he had passed by in the street or on a mission and his brain decided she’d make the ideal emotional support apparition.

“Who are you to declare that?”

“The creepy hundred year old man who hallucinates a sixteen year old girl, occasionally in her pajamas, for one.” His voice raised a bit louder than he intended, drawing the attention of a few nearby pedestrians. Bucky offered them an awkward smile before ducking back down under the bill of his hat and picking up his pace a bit. She couldn’t argue with his logic so she focused on keeping up until they reached their destination, the produce stand that had the best plums in the city, or so Bucky described.

Zara watched as he spoke Romanian with the merchant, only catching a few words she had learnt over the past few months from their conversations. She couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly Bucky seemed to interact with the man and how it contrasted so starkly to how he acted when he first arrived in the city. Decades of next to no positive human interaction left the soldier awkward and clunky in his exchanges, often stumbling through questions and requests, or simply forgetting them altogether. It had taken a great deal of patience and metaphorical hand holding to build up his confidence and ease his anxiety on the matter.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to blend in, in fact he was almost too good at it at times. Over their conversations, she had managed to show him that yes, blending in made him go through the motions of life, which was better than nothing. Yet, the beauty of his life now and the freedom that came with it was that he no longer had to settle for simply surviving and he could instead use it as a chance to learn to live again. It started small, like convincing him to get a pillow and blanket for the mattress on the floor, to which they compromised with a sleeping bag. Soon came two pillows for the couch and a lone floor lamp that he shoved in the corner near his bed for the late nights when night terrors had him scribbling away in his journals. They were minor improvements, in truth, but the progress spoke volumes as Bucky worked on building a place that felt a bit more permanent than his last few hideouts.

Zara had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even registered that Bucky completed his purchase and had moved to stand at the edge of the sidewalk. She approached him curiously, watching the way he hesitantly analyzed the seemingly anxious newspaper peddler from across the street. It was very clear something was wrong from the way his demeanor had changed.

“Buchanan?” Her voice raised a bit at the end of his name, concern now replacing her curiosity as he began to make his way to the stand. He either didn’t hear her--which she found unlikely--or he simply opted to ignore her as he picked up the paper, ocean blue eyes scanning over the headline. The color seemed to drain from both of their faces as they took the accusation in, not having to speak to know what it meant.

Bucky would have to pick up his life, yet again, and run. Find a new country, new home, and start the process all over again. The ex-assassin hardly seemed surprised at the realization, as there is no rest for the wicked.

[Boston, Massachusetts -- 2016]

Zara made her way down the hallway to her bedroom, an imaginary version of Bucky trailing along behind her. She let her book bag drop to the floor once she entered the room, stepping out of her shoes before flopping down onto the soft, sunflower themed duvet of her bed. A look of weightlessness overtook her features as she let the events of the day settle in. Today she would graduate with a PhD in Biomedical Engineering from MIT, top of her class. It was the culmination of years of pouring herself over every textbook her parent’s provided, testing out and early graduations. At only sixteen, Zara would join the ranks of some of the youngest individuals to ever receive a doctoral degree. It truly seemed unreal to her.

Emerald eyes drifted to where Bucky sat at her desk, his arms crossed loosely in front of his chest.

“I wish you could be there tomorrow,” Zara commented, propping herself up on her elbows as her fingers pulled at the frayed threads on the yellow quilt folded at the end of her bed.

A smile teased the corner of Bucky’s lips as he leaned back against her swivel chair, long hair swaying as he tilted his head to the left to look at her. “I will be there, maybe not in person, but I’ll be there cheering right along with everyone else,’ he assured.

“It’s not the same and you know it, Buchanan.”

“I know. Just try to focus on the positives. Tomorrow is your day, you’ve more than earned it.”

Zara nodded, though her disappointment was still evident. On the average day, Bucky’s seemingly invisible presence to everyone else but her came in handy. As she was willing to bet her parents wouldn’t be too keen on the amount of time she spent alone with the grown man, let alone if they knew who he was. The public’s perception of James Buchanan Barnes, who she had quickly identified him as, was low to say the very least. Though it was days like this that she found herself wishing the most that he could truly exist in her life outside of her mind.

She could never quite pinpoint why she began hallucinating him two years prior. Though, the time before and after her fourteenth birthday had flown by in a post traumatic daze so it was even more difficult to analyze. The aftermath of four older boys assaulting her in her own bedroom left her wishing to repress that portion of her life altogether. Zara squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the ghost of their hands on her body. Grabbing, groping, pulling and tearing at clothes. She had hardly seen them since their attack but her mind was still trapped in the room with them.The feeling took her back to meeting Bucky that night, or more so the Winter Soldier, as he appeared at that time.

Upon entering her room, Zara failed to notice the masked man sitting silently in the corner of the room, illuminated only by the small lamp on her bedside stand. When she caught a glimpse of the figure, her body jumped to it’s fight response, just as it had an hour or so before. The young girl grabbed the closest thing she could find, a textbook on advanced chemistry, and held onto it tightly before turning to face the intruder.

“You need to leave,” she ordered, her voice wavering at the end of the demand. Her green eyes only met a pair of dark glasses securely strapped to his face. She couldn’t make out any facial features to identify him by, as all but his forehead and hair was covered.

It wasn’t just his silence that sent an unnerved shiver down her spine. It was his demeanor, cold and nearly unresponsive to her presence and defensive stance. Had his head not briefly turned her way when she started to speak, she’d question if he even heard her at all.

A large gun, likely a rifle from what she could tell, was resting across his lap. His hands weren’t actively gripping it, but something told her he could take aim in the time it took her to breathe her next breath. A variety of handguns and knives were also visible from the holsters adorning his thighs. If he had this many weapons visible, Zara could only imagine how many he had stashed under his tactical vest and heavy boots.

Her green eyes followed where she believed his gaze had drifted. He seemed laser focused on the strip of light just barely visible from under her door as a roar of laughter could be heard from just outside. His hand moved to rest just over the barrel of his gun. The young girl analyzed him for another moment before lowering the textbook, while still keeping it tightly in her hands.

“Will you at least tell me why you’re here?” There was a hint of desperation in her voice, one that vocalized all of the fear she had been trying to hide. She was met with more silence, which quickly became deafening to her. She was afraid to make a move to get his attention again, naturally unsure of how he would react. Yet, at the same time she couldn’t relax, not with him in her space.

After another few moments of no response, she allowed herself to consider the possibility that he wasn’t actually there. She had just been through something horribly traumatic and it was entirely possible that this was her brain's way of coping with the stress and fear. That it had conjured some masked figure to sit at her bedroom door and keep all the bad away.

She knew how best to test her theory, but she recognized the risk that came with it as she picked up a neon pink highlighter that she had been using earlier that night. She gripped it for a moment while weighing her options, throwing it across the room only seconds later. She didn’t put too much force behind it, hoping that if it gently came into contact, he’d be less likely to be angry. The consideration meant very little as the marker passed straight through the man and knocked against the wall before falling to the floor. She watched as it rolled across the floor and disappeared underneath her nearby dresser, a bittersweet feeling washing over her. On one hand, he wasn’t real and couldn’t hurt her. On the other, she was truly alone and definitely going crazy.

“This is fine,” Zara tried to reassure herself with very little luck.

She was pulled back from her thoughts as Bucky called her name for the third time, snapping her back to reality. Their eyes connected for a moment as she attempted to ground herself again, focusing on the small changes between how he was now versus then.

He had since lost the mask and goggles, she remembered him removing them a month or so after he first appeared. His current casual attire contrasted starkly with the hard kevlar of the tactical vest she first met him in. His features were more at ease now, no longer reflecting the fear that she could only compare to an animal in captivity. While she wasn’t fond of the comparison, following what she had learned of the real James Barnes, it wasn’t entirely far off.

As if the world was reading her mind, she faintly heard the voice of the local news anchor from the living room directly below her bedroom. Her features scrunched as she focused in on hearing the report, only catching snippets here and there. The words explosion and Sokovia Accords were most of what she could make out along with what she could’ve sworn was the suspect’s name, James Buchanan Barnes.

Before Zara could even question it further, she found herself racing down the main staircase of their suburban home, sock clad feet skidding to a halt on the polished dark oak flooring. Her eyes widened as she took in the security camera footage that was believed to place Bucky near the scene of the crime. Despite having no real proof, something deep within her gut screamed that it wasn’t true. She knew him, maybe not the real version, but he’d never do that.

Imaginary Bucky followed her into the living room a minute later, his pace slow and relaxed in comparison as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Being held responsible for the most recent atrocity was honestly just beginning to feel like the average Tuesday to him. More than anything, it was Zara’s reaction that took him the most by surprise. Her unwavering faith and loyalty was unexpected and as he believed, undeserved.

He had committed unspeakable acts over the years and this was likely far from the worst he was accused of. Sure, they had grown close in the two years since he first appeared and he imagined that made it easier for her to block out the rest of the stories, since she knew at least some version of the person in question.

Zara was good, in every sense of the word. Of course she had flaws, but who didn’t, especially at sixteen. But he saw the way that she looked at the world with love and curiosity despite the violence and violations she had experienced. It was a strength of character that he truly wished he could grow to embody. Bucky couldn’t help but find it funny that he was left looking up to a teenager who hadn’t even passed her driver’s test yet; but she honestly had more morals and heart than most of the adults he had met in his life. All of those facts being true is what made her belief in his innocence all the more confusing.

His eyes fell to her father, Gabriel, as he sat on the couch to take in the evening news. The man’s head shook in what seemed to be disappointment, or maybe it was anger, Bucky honestly couldn’t be sure anymore. They had never spoken, as Bucky’s intangible form made communication with anyone other than Zara impossible, but he knew Gabriel was a black and white kind of person. He couldn’t help but accept that to anyone who didn’t know him, the evidence would be damning.

“They need to just put him down while they have the chance,” Gabriel scoffed, speaking to no one in particular while switching the flatscreen off before they could finish the broadcast.

“He’s not a wild animal to be euthanized.” Zara’s expression twisted in disgust at her father’s casual nature. “He’s a human being. If he's guilty, and that’s a really big if with how blurry that security footage is, he deserves a trial just like anyone else!”

Gabe turned to look over the back of the couch, clearly displeased that she would defend the man. “I’m in no mood to debate with you, Ziarah.” He rose from his seat and dropped the remote onto the foot stool before leaving towards his study.

Zara watched him leave, her eye practically twitching with each step he took. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, to make him see that there were likely more sides to the story than they were seeing but she knew that it was useless. Her father rarely took her opinions or beliefs to heart on things that actually mattered to him, a topic like this would truly be a lost cause.

She looked up at Bucky as he shook his head lightly, letting her tension fade away as she accepted that it was pointless. “It’s okay, Zar,” Bucky assured, his small smile wiping away any lingering doubts she had. “There are more important battles to pick with him. This isn’t a hill worth dying on.”

Zara would’ve liked to argue that defending her friend was more than a worthy cause but she nodded nonetheless.

“How about we go find your mom. I bet she’s already working on the cake for your graduation and knowing you, you can convince her to let you lick the spoon.” His tone was playful as he coaxed her into motion, the promise of sweets and a friendly face luring her into the kitchen behind him.

Hanna was busy mixing away the different batters she would need for the next tier, the sweet aroma of baked goods filling the air. She hummed lightly as she worked, creating her own personal mix of her favorite 80’s songs together in a unique medley. Her green eyes moved to the doorway as she heard Zara walk in, a bright smile overtook her features as she set down her mixing bowl.

“There’s my little scholar,” she praised, moving around the kitchen island to take her daughter into her arms. Her warm embrace was a welcomed escape as Zara melted.

“Momma,” Zara grumbled as her mother placed a series of kisses on her forehead. “I thought you stopped doing that since I was a baby.” While Zara whined, deep down she always loved her mother’s open displays of affection. Not that she was willing to admit it.

“That’s the beauty of you always being my baby. You’re never too old for me to embarrass you. Just be grateful that I’ve opted to do it now instead of at your party.” The woman grinned away as she moved back to her work.

Zara honestly couldn’t argue with the logic as she found a seat on one of the tall bar stools. She quickly lost herself in the pleasant conversion with her mother, happily opting to clean the excess batter and frosting off of the bowls and mixing spoons like the helpful child she was. Imaginary Bucky sat quietly at the kitchen table, watching the women as they fell into the usual banter and discussion. After they finished her conversation she quickly grabbed a snack and made her way towards the door.

“I believe you’re forgetting something,” Hanna reminded, sending Zara a knowing look.

She huffed lightly before turning on her heels to grab her blood testing and insulin kit, waving it at her mother knowingly. She quickly turned back around and left the kitchen, making her way back upstairs.

Bucky didn’t hesitate to follow after her, stopping only when he saw Zara staring in her old room, which now housed her older brother Daniel. He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she ran over the events that more often than not had her scurrying past said room without acknowledging it. It was easier to just pretend it didn’t exist.

A few more moments passed before Zara pulled herself back from the darker parts of her mind, focusing in on everything else in her life that was good and worth celebrating. She had known pain and a time in her life where she often considered if it would’ve been easier to just fade away, but she had made it through to the other side. She had a lot going for her now and that was enough to push her feet forward again.

Chapter 2

[sardinesandhumbugs]

i would be very interested in learning more about horwood (derogatory) if you're interested in explaining?

okay so

so William Horwood was is (apparently he’s still alive and kicking in his 70s) a writer who wrote perhaps the best-known sequel to The Wind in the Willows in 1993: The Willows in Winter. (He wrote three more following after it: Toad Triumphant, The Willows and Beyond, and The Willows at Christmas, but the first one is the one most will be familiar with due to the 1996 movie.)

(He wasn’t the first person to write a sequel to WitW; that honour goes to Dixon Scott in 1983 with A Fresh Wind in the Willows although that had some funky copyright issues) 

The Willows in Winter does its best to mimic the style of the original book, and to some extent it does succeed. It is, however, still essentially published fanfiction and, as such, it has some wonderful ‘misses’ that I will mock this 27-yo story for. (I admittedly kinda love the movie it was adapted into, so this is all done with the same kind of ribbing my friends lovingly bestow upon me after I walk into glass walls or eat notably dodgy apples like some modern-day snow white)

These misses include but are not limited to:

awkward character decisions 

These Characters Are Aggressively Not Gay 

But Sometimes It Will Read Very Gay Anyway 

hilarious character names

I Will (Almost) Kill Mole Multiple Times

Sometimes Twice In The Same Book

you will read “The Water Rat” more than you ever did in witw

Rat has river-speaking abilities now  

Badger has one (1) response to “someone has vanished” and it’s to organise a funeral

Rat sees heaven for, like, a moment

Toad nearly gets hanged 

Anyway, because I have A Lot of thoughts about the book, here’s a spoiler-inclusive breakdown of the plot for your enjoyment below the cut: 

The story starts with Mole’s nephew who we will call “Nephew” for the sole fact that Horwood never deigns to give him any other name. (I have been reliably informed that the next story has Badger’s grandson creatively named... Grandson, just in case anyone thought this might be a one-off.)  

It has been... an indistinguishable number of years since the original book, and Horwood decided the natural character development for the polite and loyal Mole is for him to have become a grumpy old soul who has been passing his recently orphaned Nephew around his friends because he doesn’t like company. 

The biggest issue Mole has is that he erroneously told Nephew that he could stay “as long as [he] wants” and, well, you have to see this for yourself: 

...for ‘as long as you want’ soon feels like a life sentence to a bachelor like Mole, unused to sharing his home with another for more than an evening at a time. 

(Mole is a Bachelor, okay? He’s definitely not accustomed to living whole seasons with Ratty, to the point that he nearly forgets what his own home looks like.)

So Mole is beginning to think that perhaps Nephew isn’t The Worst Thing Ever when Portly turns up in the middle of a horrible snow storm and, in attempting to warm him up, Nephew gives him too much alcohol and promptly sends Portly off to sleep, but not before he imparts that he came running all this way because Rat said that he needed Mole. 

So Mole heads out into the terrible snow storm, gets to the River, and carves his will into a tree because this is Horwood’s fanfic and he can write angst if he wants to, dammit! And, naturally, everything goes wrong. a la Don’t Carry It All style.

You may be saying, oh plot! This sounds dramatic! I regret to inform you that Rat was not, in fact, in danger, but was actually just snowed in with Otter and drunkenly remarked that it’d be so much jollier if Mole joined them (no homo), and then carried getting so drunk that neither of them realised that Portly was gone until three days later. 

[A helpful comic illustrating Otter’s parental abilities]

(This is, of course, the same Portly for whom Otter spent days trying to find in The Piper At the Gates of Dawn chapter of the original book. Turns out his  parental approach has drastically changed since then.)  

After some searching, they find Mole’s will carved into the tree and deduce that Mole attempted to cross the frozen river and failed and they decide to leave off searching until it’s light again. In the meantime, we get this lovely passage that I actually adore for how tender it is: 

The Water Rat knew a night of shadows and half-dreams, memories of Mole in the hot afternoon sun of summer, reflecting upon life. Such remembrances tormented the poor Rat till dawn came once more and he stared bleakly out of the window, tears trickling down his face, listening to the quiet bustle of the other three round the corner in the kitchen. 

During all of this, Toad has discovered a love of flying machines (biplanes, to you and me) and the Riverbankers claim use of his newest one to search for Mole. Long story short, Toad tricks his way into being the pilot, flies so badly that he unseats Rat (who manages to deploy his parachute in time, but has a near-death experience beforehand) and then crashes the plane into a greenhouse in town. 

The other Riverbankers find Rat, who has survived his fall (even if he has seen Beyond the Veil) and he’s currently Talking to the River (Horwood decided to take the “water” part of Rat’s name as a personality trait) and Rat assures the Riverbankers that Mole isn’t dead because the River Said So.

Badger is like, cool, cool, okay he’s suffered a mental break from losing Mole, and possibly Toad too, so we’re going to do the sensible thing and host a funeral for Mole. (Have I mentioned how much they are definitely straight?) 

Anyway, in a move that would make any soap opera green with envy, Mole manages to find his way back to the Riverbank just in time to crash his own funeral, scaring everyone witless until they realise their mistake. (I did say this was published fanfiction.) Everyone is happy, Mole is not dead, and life goes merrily on. 

Meanwhile, Toad has had a few misadventures, that include: 

crashing into a greenhouse that belongs to the judge who sentenced him in the original book

somehow no one realises he’s Toad, so he stays in bed as the heroic pilot who risked life and limb to stop his plane from crashing into the town

escaping disguised as a chimney sweep

turning up to a wedding that the judge was attending and getting arrested

being accused of murdering the missing chimney sweep 

being sentenced to be hanged for murdering the missing chimney sweep

being acquitted from the crime when it turns out the chimney sweep is still alive

(Yes, Horwood really went, hey I should raise the stakes from the original, and then put Toad on trial for murder under threat of hanging.) 

(If what I’ve heard about the later books, Horwood decided that what the Extended WitW Universe was missing was an overarching antagonist, which he rectifies by having the judge return several times.)

Toad is set on his way and he slowly returns back to the Riverbank, mostly because he’s under the impression that not only is Mole dead, but that he probably killed Rat too (this is a Fun Kid’s Book) whereupon he eventually discovers that, uncared for, Toad Hall has fallen into flooded ruin. He mopes and drinks and lights candles before toddling off to Badger’s home, where Badger is having a thoroughly miserable party that has pretty much turned into a Mourning Toad party and they all celebrate Toad’s return. There’s even a sweet moment:

Toad, very drunk and sad: What am I, Badger? Badger: You are home, Toad.

And then in the last two minutes of the book, Toad Hall burns to the ground because Horwood couldn’t resist a last-minute sprinkling of drama into the story.

(Also, also, the last few lines of the book seems to imply that the name of “The Mole” is something that’s inherited like the title of Caesar was, and Nephew will one day be The Mole and I can’t get over that.)

The End. 

Anyway, Horwood is evidence that fanfic writers have always gone, “I can add angst to this,” and that you really shouldn’t feel so bad about that edgy OOC fanfic you wrote when you were 13 because it turns out some people go and get theirs published.

And that’s why some of us have “Horwood (Derogatory)” as a meme. 

[beevean]

How about a top 5 (or 10 if you prefer) best and worst bosses in video games? :D

I’m not very well versed in videogames, but anyway...

WORST

10) Chaos 4 (Sonic Adventure): Not a big fan of bosses who waste so much time - ooh, look at that, trying to hit me with very slow, very telegraphed attacks, and taking more and more time to becomes vulnerable the more the fight progresses. Also not a big fan of Tactical Suicide Bosses (excuse me Chaos, why is your strategy “stay in the water for increasingly amounts of time and then decide to raise my head to breathe”? In this form you’re a fish!). Even less of a fan of bosses that you have to fight three times to complete the game.

9) Sonic and Diablon (Shadow the Hedgehog): They couldn’t have come up with a more boring boss if they tried. Shoot the shield, shoot the cannon, avoid the hand, run away when you hear the word “anti-matter”, kick Sonic in the head, slowly chip at the large energy bar, rinse and repeat. The G.U.N. Fortress version is particularly painful, too, as the arena only offers those piss poor pistols with 10 bullets and minimal damage. And much like Chaos 4, you have to fight this lovely boss three times to get to the Last Story, except you don’t even get a different character with different abilities. Also, poor Sonic, from protagonist of the series reduced to nothing more than a footstep.

8) Collision Chaos boss (Sonic CD): Try to play a boss that relies on wonky pinball physics, that shoots projectiles with the only purpose of changing your already precarious trajectory, in the Bad Future that adds slightly more bumpers to destroy, with the American music (I linked the extended version to properly depict the experience). Pain is real.

7) Egg Pinball (Sonic Advance 3): Surprise! I find this boss worse than the more famous Egg Chaser. Yes, the Egg Chaser is very anxiety-inducing with its bottomless pit and the ball chain sending you into it, but once you learn the pattern of the platforms and that Amy as a partner makes it a joke it’s not that bad. This one, though? Even with Amy/Sonic, which is the only team where your partner is useless but you aren’t, this boss relies too much on luck, expecially by the end when way too many balls are flying across the screen. It’s almost funny, in a “screw you” way, that this is one of the two bosses in the game that can’t be hit by Cheese, in the stage where you finally unlock Cream. Pinball and Sonic don’t mix as well as Sonic Team thinks, apparently.

6) Boost Guardian (Metroid Prime 2, Gamecube): This boss’ strategy isn’t even that bad, it’s just that it hits you like a truck in an environment that is already sipping you of health. If being hit was less punishing, guessing the correct timing to jump over it would be fun. Too overkill for its placement in the game.

5) Mother Brain (Metroid Zero Mission): MB in the original Metroid 1 was... there, with the difficulty of the final boss coming from those stupid Rinkas pushing you into the lava below. In the remake, which otherwise is much easier than the original game, you have to think about the Rinkas, the lava, and MB who shots you fireballs! And if you fall into the lava (and you will spend half of the time in the lava)? She closes her eye and protects her only weak spot, forcing you to wait at the mercy of the Rinkas hitting you all over again. Asshole.

4) Dark Gaia (Sonic Unleashed): Dark Gaia, as a whole, is a stain on an otherwise beautiful game. Setting aside his “character” for a while: this boss is way, WAY too long (the first time I clocked at 11 minutes, like hell I’m trying again), the Gaia Colossus phase is frustrating for how slow it is and for having a nigh-unavoidable attack, the running phase requires pitch-perfect timing otherwise say bye bye to your life, and the Super Sonic phase is essentially “slipping down the shield to run over a bunch of snakes, then QTE up your ass”. Riveting. At least it has some banging music...

3) Egg Saucer (Sonic Advance 2): The bosses in SAd2 are already questionable with their “wind pushing you backwards” physics, but this one flings you enough bullshit to make you ragequit. Whoisthisgit made an excellent video explaining everything that makes this boss such a miserable experience. I am so sorry, Knuckles, that you had to be associated with this tragedy.

2) Antlion Mecha (Sonic 2, Game Gear): So let me get this straight devs, you take a boss that is already a little too had as the first boss in the game, you put it in a console with a much smaller screen, you screw up the slope physics making it just a little too easy to slide into the antlion’s jaws (and of course you don’t have any Rings), and on top of that you make the trajectory of the projectiles random when in the Master System they were consistent? Great game design there, guys :V

1) Spider Guardian (Metroid Prime 2, Gamecube): I was never as close as bestemmiare ogni santo e pure il padre eterno as I was when I was trying to beat this abomination. I love the Ing theme, but FUCK if I wasn’t hating every single sound of it while playing, OH MY GOD I envy the people who played it on the Wii so damn much

BEST

10) Robot Carnival/Storm (Sonic Heroes): Yes! Yes, I do like this boss! I’m probably the only one, I don’t care, I find these fights cathartic, especially with Team Chaotix <3

9) Jet Drill (Sonic 3 & Knuckles): The strategy may be simple, but I love the setup of Eggman destroying an ancient garden just to kill Sonic and I love how it emphasizes how much of a reliable bro Tails is. (let’s just ignore the fact that with Tails alone this boss is a pain...)

8) Doomsday Zone (Sonic 3 & Knuckles): The series had its fair share of Super Sonic bosses, but so far no one has beaten the original. It has excellent music, you can feel the tension as you smartly redirect Eggman’s missiles to him and as you chase him down through space, and Eggman in this game is really ready to do anything to win, I love it

7) Beta mk. II (Sonic Adventure): This is probably the best part of Gamma’s campaign. 90% of it is kindergarten-easy, and then Hot Shelter and the final boss are a sudden, but welcome spike in difficulty. Beta mk. II is a far cry from any other E-series robot you’ve faced, being almost completely invulnerable, hitting you with straight up nukes, and the time is still ticking in the corner. Then you add the context of having to kill your brother, and the deceptively upbeat theme, and it becomes a memorable experience.

6) Cykka (Metroid Prime 2): The first phase is fairly boring, but Adult Cykka is really fun to fight for some reason. Not only it has a cool design, but it’s a fast-paced battle (due to having to use the Grapple Beam to swing from platform to platform) where you have to go ham on the boss at certain points (when it becomes Dark Cykka), my two favorite styles for a boss.

5) Nightmare (Metroid Fusion): A name, a certainty. This boss looks, sounds and attacks in a way that makes you feel confused and powerless. Even at it becomes a game of “climb the stairs, shoot at its ungodly face, jump around to avoid it”, it’s still tense.

4) Ridley (Super Metroid): SM isn’t famous for having great bosses, but they put all of their effort into Ridley and it shows. There’s no strategy here, it’s simply “kill him before he kills you”. At this point you’re pretty much at the peak of your strength, you went through literal Hell to get The Baby back, you’re not going to be stopped by the asshole who killed your parents.

3) Shibusawa Keiji (Yakuza 0): What a beast of a final boss. The first Dragon of Dojima is the perfect foil to Kiryu, having all of his strength and style but none of his compassion, and beating him up to a bloody pulp, especially as you see him become sloppier and sloppier, is so, so cathartic. Also, Two Dragons, what more can I say?

2) Egg Dragoon (Sonic Unleashed): Best boss in the series? I don’t know but it’s surely in the top 10, and it’s ironic that you play as the hated Werehog. Not only it has some delicious music (that generations ruined), but it’s such a fun climax after the hell and a half that is Eggmanland! On one hand, Eggman sounds seriously angry and he is ready to kill Sonic (and if you take too much time, which admittedly is hard if you’re not doing it on purpose, he is positively gleeful while he sends you into a fiery death); on the other, Sonic just rips this giant robot apart like tissue paper, and even if it’s done through QTEs, it looks awesome.

1) Kuze Daisaku (Yakuza 0): I’ll let this say it all. If I had to pick a favorite version, the fifth one was my favorite to fight (by that point you have likely upgraded Kiryu’s abilities to the point of making him a juggernaut), but the second one is iconic for a reason... multiple, in fact. “DIE, YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

Special mention to Majima in Y1, YK and YK2 because he looks really fun, but I have never faced him myself so yeah.

[knitting-with-norbert]

Blue Icon of Doom

Thirteen minutes.

The little icon was teasing me, staring me down from its place on my screen.

Sitting comfortably in the corner (as if it couldn’t mock me anymore than it already was it had taken my favourite spot), companionably wedged with the pixelated red heart of Undertale to its left and the achingly familiar grass block of Minecraft below it.

My stomach turned as my phone screen lit up where it lay on the desk beside me. A mountain of notifications marked as unread covered the screen, overwhelming in its reminder of how I failed to maintain conversations.

My fingers fumble the phone, almost dropping it and I squeeze my eyes shut, desperately trying to ignore the twist in my gut and fight back the familiar wave of panic.

Twelve minutes.

When I open my eyes again the three has changed to a two and my throat has gone dry.

‘Might be running a little late – kids still not in bed! Shouldn’t be more than five minutes, though’

The dreaded zoom call, planned just a week ago.

Not dreaded because of the people – no, everyone who I speak to from my course is lovely and caring and so, so understanding.

Or… I suppose it is because of the people. Because I don’t deal well with people. I never have. In a way, I just don’t understand them, I struggle to read them because I’m too focused on trying to follow the correct social etiquette, always so sure that I’m going to mess something up, become a public laughing stock.

Sure that they have formed a secret club and there will be some form of ‘social initiation’ that I will probably fail.

Eleven minutes.

Though, I’m sure I’ve already failed the test seeing as though I can never bring myself to reply to the messages on the group chat.

I so desperately hope that they don’t take my constant silence on there personally. But I can’t explain it to them, I would never be able to find the words to explain how exhausting I find even the smallest amount of social interaction. Or how I could spend hours tweaking my responses to their messages, wanting to make sure that I got the right tone, wrote the right thing, hit the right joke.

How it’s just easier to silently panic over replying than it is to live in fear that I’ve said the wrong thing.

Ten minutes.

I’m sure that the Zoom icon is taunting me.

If it had eyes they would be staring right back at me, boring into my skull, reading my mind and coming up with an abundance of ways it can make me squirm.

Am I still invited to the call?

They haven’t explicitly said that I could come. Perhaps I ought to read between the lines and not turn up. Maybe they took my lack of public response on the matter as my saying that I couldn’t make it or that I wasn’t interested.

Nine minutes.

Maybe in this scenario it would simply be best to tell them that I was feeling unwell and so wouldn’t be able to join them. It would probably be a relief to them – after all, they are all a few years older than me, with real lives, real jobs and real hobbies and a real chance to take what we learn on this course to their futures.

They don’t really want me there.

My thumb hovers over the home button on my phone, ready to unlock it and open the WhatsApp chat to send a message to say I was feeling unwell.

It wouldn’t be a lie, and it wasn’t a lie either the countless times before where I had sent a message saying I was sick so couldn’t complete some of the work or couldn’t make it to some of the other group sessions.

Eight minutes.

But I know that they must think it’s a lie every time I say I’m feeling unwell.

After all, physically I am fine. But I don’t know how to tell them that every conscious moment I am simultaneously exhausted by everything, even thinking of reading a few pages, and yet also completely wide awake, jittering and fidgeting, desperate for my brain to just shut up for a moment.

I close my eyes again, feeling wetness gathering at the corners and I bite my lip to stifle a pitiful whimper. I clench the hand that isn’t holding my phone, finding a vicious comfort in how my ragged, bitten down nails dig into the palm of my hand.

Six minutes

When I open my eyes next it is to find that two minutes have been wasted and three more messages have come through to my phone.

One with the room code and password and link which serve to twist my stomach into knots and clog up my throat and I struggle to breathe.

The next is a photo of two children, tucked into bed. One looks half asleep, eyes looking drowsily up at the person who was taking the photo (the same woman who had been concerned about being late) with a tired smile. The other was far more awake, sitting up in bed and his arm is blurry as he’s moving to grab a book from his bedside table.

The image makes me smile. It helps me to breathe easier.

The final message waiting for me on the group chat is simple, and yet makes all the difference to me as I try to suppress my panic over joining the call.

“I hope everyone can make it this week! I can’t wait to catch up with you all!”

Five minutes

With still shaking hands but renewed assurance I navigated my mouse to hover over the malicious icon.

There’s a few moments after I click it where it doesn’t boot up and I am left with the sudden irrational fear that Zoom itself – the hivemind, if you will – has decided to intervene and save my course mates (my friends?) from having to endure my company.

And then-

Four minutes

the familiar coloured bubbles. The screen welcoming me to the meeting and for a brief moment I can’t remember why I was so panicked about joining as I navigate myself to the ‘join meeting’ button and click it, writing in the room details.

It’s instinctive, the way that my fingers type the name “Freddie”, rather than my full, real name which they all know me by. After all, most of my friends call me Freddie by now and hearing the nickname is somewhat of a comfort to me because of that.

I suck in a breath and try to stop the menacing carousel in my mind, going over every possible outcome of what would happen if I didn’t change it to the name that they knew me by.

Three minutes

I type quickly, erasing Freddie and replacing it with the old, familiar letters and don’t hesitate before ticking the box to turn off my video.

I sit back at my desk chair and wait, chewing anxiously on my nails as I wait for the minutes to pass.

I can’t be early.

I can’t be late.

I’ll click join meeting the moment that 7 o’clock hits so that I can’t be judged or mocked for being early or late, I’ll just be on-time. Reliable, boring, safe and on-time.

Two minutes

I can’t help but worry that my course mates will be able to hear how my leg is shaking beneath the desk. The movement sends tiny ripples across the surface of my now lukewarm tea.

I pick up the mug, cradling it in my hands in the hope that it will be enough to stop them from being able to see how my hands are visibly shaking.

I count to ten, I try to slow my breathing down into something more manageable, something more natural. I try to focus on something – anything else.

The dog zipping past the window as she cases the ball thrown by my laughing brother, the smell from the kitchen and the quiet murmurs and laughter of my parents poking fun at each other. Above me I can hear the footsteps of my older brother, home for the weekend and having turned his room back to normal from the make-shift study I had set up for myself in there.

I consider going to grab a blanket, something to hold on my lap properly, something to curl into and make myself small. But as the thought crosses my mind, my eyes flick to the clock in the corner of my screen and something pierces through my chest.

I’m one minute late.

I type in the password at least three times incorrectly before at last being allowed into the meeting.

Nine faces smile at my entrance, calling out cheerful greetings and “glad you could make it”‘s, some just raising their hands in a wave before they return to the conversation they were already having.

I turn my camera on, hiding myself in the folds of my hoodie but smiling at them all the same, nodding along to the conversation.

And about half an hour in, my heart has finally stopped pounding and my brain has lost its fog and I can breathe again.

(you may be able to tell from this short story that I’ve been having a lot of Zoom calls with my coursemates and as much as I love all of them, Norbert acts up every single time and this is what I go through and I wanted to get it out on the page. Let me know your thoughts and if you’ve had similar experiences with Zoom or anything of the sort! Links to all my socials and website and the like are all in my bio if you’re interested!

Freddie 🐸)

[bogambiance]

Two Slow Dancers - a Reddie short

Does it smell like a school gymnasium in here?

As soon as the town car passed the “Welcome to Derry!” sign, memories began pouring relentlessly into Eddie’s mind. They had started flickering on slowly when Mike had called, like Christmas lights left on well into the spring. But those memories had been almost exclusively awful. The moments of terror which had been seared into him like a brand steaming out first. His mother, his bedroom door locked from the outside, a tray of pills, Henry Bowers...It. Now however, some rose colored bulbs were being screwed in, and Eddie felt the headache he’d had since Mike’s call start to ease.

He remembered Bill, how much he had adored Bill, the stutter he worked on throughout their friendship, the deep sadness in him. He remembered Mike, strong and kind and reliable, laughing so deeply it made Eddie grin. He remembered Stan being smart and snarky and observant. He remembered going to him when it felt like there was no one else, and he remembered him hugging Eddie wordlessly. He remembered Ben, and almost in the same moment Beverly. Sweet Ben and fiery Beverly. He remembered caring for Ben’s and Beverly’s wounds alike, remembers them lifting up their shirts or pants and letting him dab an antiseptic pad. He remembered Ben’s books and his drawings. He remembered Beverly’s loud guaff and her urging for him to “do it Eddie, nothing matters,” but in a nice way.

And all at once, like someone pushed him backwards off a swing or tore a rug out from under his feet, Eddie remembered Richie. It felt like he remembered everything in that moment, but he was sure that couldn’t be true. Because with every memory he regained he understood more clearly the hole that had been gaping in his life for 27 years. He remembered Richie’s big dorky glasses, and the clear blue eyes behind, always looking right at Eddie. He remembered Richie’s cologne he stole from his dad and how strongly it smelled at the base of his neck. Eddie felt his breath hitch as he remembered fervent kisses behind closed doors. He remembered being 17 and in love and happy and fucking gay oh my god and optimistic but mostly in love.

Things slid into place in his mind in a terrifying and relieving way. Reasons he never felt quite right about women.

The first time they kissed they were at the Barrens, had wondered away from the rest of their friends dozing lazily in the sun. Richie had promised Eddie that he had “something really cool!” to show him and Eddie believed him. And Eddie wanted to be near him. They walked along the thick tree line until the wall of rock stood high opposite them, across the water. It was like they had travelled down into an impossible valley, like they were the only two people in the world.

“Okay, ready?”

Eddie had nodded furiously.

Richie lifted up the bottom of his T-shirt and showed Eddie a little mark, a smudge possibly, on the front of his hip under his abdomen.

“What is it?”

“It’s a stick and poke. Beverly did it for me.”

Eddie learned in, painfully aware of how close he was to Richie’s pelvis, and examined the “tattoo.” It was red and a little puffy. It was an ‘E.’

“Why did...that looks infected.”

Richie had huffed, irritated, and pulled his shirt back down.

“Can you not talk about infections for like two seconds?”

Eddie remembered rolling his eyes. “What’s ‘E’ stand for?” Richie didn’t respond, merely looked at him with a small, almost bashful smile.

“What do you think, dipshit?”

The implication hit Eddie a little late, but when it did he grabbed Richie’s face and kissed him hard. It was clumsy and teethy and wet and Eddie felt it on his lips in the back of that town car and remembered the feeling of being in love.

It's funny how they're all the same

At China Dragon, Eddie marveled at the state of his old friends. There was gray hair and bald spots and freckles he remembered the location of for no good reason. There were chiseled jawlines and stoic expressions and god so many memories were in his head it hurt. He had touched Beverly’s hair gently and let Bill hug him tightly. He ran his thumb over the scar on Stan’s jaw that you couldn’t quite see anymore but he knew was there. He searched the corners of the room for the person he knows he would have noticed immediately if he was indeed here. Maybe he wasn’t coming. Maybe he was dead.

And then he walked in, like he had never left, and Eddie felt the breath leave his body briefly. His brown curls were still falling, messy, around his face, but they were a bit shorter now. There were small streaks of gray it in, too. His thick glasses distorted his eyes but he could still see that they were, just as he remembered, locked in on him. His hands were stuffed in his pockets. He said something to the group, and Beverly hugged him, but Eddie couldn’t say what it had been. The welcome wagon passed and Richie walked towards him.

“Hi Eds,” he said quietly.

“Don’t call me that.”

It's funny how you always remember

Richie cracked a smile and pulled him in for a tight hug. Eddie let himself be molded against Richie’s body in the closeness of the embrace. He didn’t have to think at all about it.

And we've both done it all a hundred times before

He knew his face fell to rest in the crook of Richie’s neck. He knew his arms wrapped up around his shoulder. Richie knew his hands snaked up Eddie’s back under his shirt. He knew that he always drew him closer at the waist. It gave Eddie chills, how familiar it was. That, and the way Richie raked his fingernail as across them skin of his back. Instinctively, Eddie opened his mouth against Richie’s neck. Maybe to laugh at first, to say something, but the urge to bite him rose very suddenly in his mind. He managed to ignore it. He pulled away quickly after. Richie was smiling.

It's funny how I still forgot

Dinner was surprisingly lovely. He had been unable to realize what he was missing without these people, but the yearning he had for them had never eased. He recognized characteristics, turns of phrase, sounds, looks, exchanges as things he had gotten from his old friends. He felt Richie slid his hand on his thigh, on his back, through his hair and Eddie leaned into he. He remembered, slowly, these people knowing. These people loving them all the same. He remembered how right it felt to be near them, near Richie. It felt so right it hurt deep inside that he had lived most of his life without them. Tomorrow he might die. He would die without getting to meet Stan’s wife or see Billy’s movie. Without visiting one of Ben’s buildings or going to one of Beverly’s catwalks. Without getting to experience life with Richie like he was meant to.

Because Eddie knew he was supposed to have spent the last 27 years with Richie. It had always been and still was him, only him. A deep pang of sadness bloomed inside of him. It ballooned up through his throat and he felt his eyes begin to water. It wasn’t fair. They’d already had their childhood stolen, but that hadn’t been enough. It wasn’t fair.

He realized he had said the last bit out loud when Richie looked at him with his head turned ever so slightly to the side. He remembered that too, those moments of puppy dog confusion. Eddie looked down at his hands and bit his lips to keep from crying. It wasn’t fair.

It would be a hundred times easier

Eddie remembered being 17 and in love most of all. He remembered being so sure that even though he was going to Maine State and Richie was going to UCLA they would stay together. That after a year Eddie would transfer there too and they would live openly in Califnoria, finally. Eddie daydreamed about holding Richie’s hand in public. He daydreamed about their apartment together, their dog, their child. He daydreamed about marrying him in an big open field with his best friends there.

He had been so confident.

If we were young again

Now as he sat next to Richie, he realized the unbearingly small amount of time they had together. One day. A few hours. He wanted to go back in time and scream at his 17 year old self. Like Richie had screamed at him. He wished he had listened.

They had been at Richie’s house. His parents hadn’t been there. They were both yelling.

“Eddie are you just gonna life your whole life for her? You gonna live and die for her? Pretend to be straight for her?”

“You don’t understand-”

“You’re the only person who has to live your life. You’re the only person who has to wallow in your self created misery.”

Eddie sighed to push back the tears in his voice. “I know, okay? I know.”

“Then why are you doing this?” Richie bridged the distance between them suddenly, and knelt down in front of him. Even so he wasn’t that much shorter than Eddie. “Come with me. We’ll get an apartment together. You can go to trade school there, be a mechanic. It’ll be so good Eds.”

He couldn’t quite stifle it anything longer. A sharp sob escaped his chest. “I want to.”

“Then do it,” Richie grabbed his hands in his own. “Please.”

There were a million things Eddie wanted to say but couldn’t articulate. He wanted to explain that his psyche was deeply imbedded into his mother’s abuse. That to separate himself cold turkey from it, from her control, was going to be almost impossible. That Richie should drug him, strap him into the passenger seat, and just drive. He knew he wasn’t doing the right thing or the healthy thing. And he couldn’t stop it.

Because abuse isn’t tidy. You don’t get to cast it off and run off into the sunset to California with the love of your life. It pulls you down like quicksand if you try and leave too quickly. It drips down your throat like mud if you try and protest. No, it isn’t fair, Eddie knew. It isn’t fair that my happiness has always been at the bottom of the swimming pool. That I only have this moment.

But as it is

But it’s all I got.

When dinner was over he didn’t say anything, just followed Richie to his room. If he was surprised he didn’t show it. He’d left his wedding ring on the table.

And it is

Wordlessly, they fell into the bed with together. They had barely talked, were barely talking. There was a mountain of things to say between them and if they started to climb, the horror of its size would set in. They had so little time. Eddie didn’t want to feel afraid right then. He could be, would be, afraid tomorrow. But not then.

He remembered Richie’s body without having to think about it. He didn’t have time to think about how he’d lost his virginity to him, to dwell on all the awful sex he’d dad since forgetting him, to consider how many sessions of shameful masturbation had been focused on hazey memories of curly hair and calloused hands. He kissed Richie’s jawline and his shoulders, worked his way down to the tiny letter ‘E’ on his hip. He kissed it mournfully, and moved on before he could think too much about it.

They started slow, mostly because Eddie was nearly thirty years out of practice. But also because there was no need to rush. They had nothing even close to enough time to talk. But they had enough time for this.

We're just two slow dancers, last ones out

Richie came first, inside Eddie, their foreheads pressed together. Richie tried to tuck his face into Eddie’s shoulder, but no, he wasn’t having that. He grabbed Richie’s face in his hands and pulled it back towards his own, to watch intently as Richie fell apart. It was like he melted in his hands. His eyes rolled back just a little, and his eyelashes fluttered. His mouth fell into an ‘O’ and Eddie moved one thumb to drag across his mouth. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and he wanted to see it again and again and again. He did not let himself think that he might not get to.

We're two slow dancers, last ones out

Eddie finished in Richie’s mouth, forcefully and without much fanfare. And even still, Eddie felt like he would float off the bed if Richie didn’t hold him down. Luckily he did hold him down. Nothing, not even the best of it, had ever been like that. Again he was struck like a swift slap in the face with how much he had missed out on.

And the ground has been slowly pulling us back down

Eddie cralwed back into the bed after cleaning up. The sheets smelled like their sweat and Richie’s cologne. Eddie brought it to his face and inhaled.

Richie pulled him up so that Eddie was laying with his head on his chest. He couldn’t quite hold it in anymore. Hot, wet tears flowed down his face and onto Richie’s chest hair.

“Ssh,” Richie has whispered into Eddie’s hair, “everything is okay.” Richie took a steadying breath. “Eddie, in two days-”

“We’ll both be dead?”

You see it on both our skin

Richie chuckled in an empty kind of way. “No. Let me talk. In two days, will you marry me?”

Eddie snorted. Considered saying I’m already married, Rich or it’s illegal, Rich or one or both of us will be dead, Rich. But he didn’t.

“Yeah, sure.” Richie barked out a laugh.

“Yeah, sure? Love you too Spaghetti.”

Eddie smiled. “I do.”

“You have to wait for the priest to ask you, Eddie.”

“No!” Eddie rubbed his face on Richie’s chest hair, smelled him again. “I do love you.”

“I love you too.”

We get a few years and then it wants us back

Richie dozed off first, snoring a little. Eddie gently took his glasses off his face and put them on the bedside table. In the partial light spilling out from the bathroom, he could just make out Richie’s features. With his hand shaking slightly, he dragged his finger from Richie’s brow bone to his chin, making several stops along the way. Then he continued down his body. Richie had acquired several other tattoos, along with a few scars. Eddie wondered briefly where they had come from, who he’d been with when he got them, who he’d been when he got them. He assumed Richie had had a glorious life even without him. Full of fame, travel, beauty, men. Eddie’s own life was nearly the exact opposite. Obscurity, monotony, fog, Myra....

At the risk of wasting even one moment of this time with Richie thinking of that, Eddie laid his head down on Richie’s chest and listened. Thur-rump. Thur-rump. He wondered what it would have been like at Richie’s side these past 27 years. He fell asleep happy for the first time in since he was 18.

It would be a hundred times easier

Down in the sewers, Eddie was leaned over Richie, shaking his shoulders after he’d fallen from the dead lights.

“I did it Richie! I killed It!”

Finally, Richie opened his eyes. He looked lost for a moment, but once his eyes found Eddie’s, they focused in. Richie smiled.

“I did it! It’s dead! I killed-!”

If we were young again

Then it was Richie’s turn to lean over Eddie’s crumpled body, impaled and losing light. Richie ran his fingers over his mouth, touched the blood there.

“Eddie, Eddie! We did it! It’s dead!”

He couldn’t be losing him. They’d beaten It before, and now, finally, for good. They could continue, together. He couldn’t lose Eddie. Not now. Not after all this.

“It’s dead! Eddie, come on!” Richie’s voice broke as rocks crumpled above their heads. “Eddie please!”

But as it is

“Richie we have to go,” Beverly urged. “I’m so sorry baby. He’s gone. We have to go.”

And it is

Richie pulled Eddie’s broken body to his chest, kissed him furiously on the head, on his shoulder, on his forehead.

“Please Eddie.”

To think that we could stay the same

We're two slow dancers, last ones out

[teababe27]

My Concert Experience, Or What I Can Remember of It - 11/7/2010

So, Facebook reminded me that it’s been 10 years to the day since the first metal show I’d ever attended (I’ve been going to metal shows for 10 years, hoyl shit), and possibly the best show I ever attended as well (tied with Rush’s R40 tour in 2015 for my personal favorite, RIP Neil Peart). 

I had just turned 19, and I had bought the ticket on semi-impulse, even though I didn’t have a car. It was a blast, and it’s the main reason why I prefer smaller, more intimate shows and venues.

The lineup was, in this order: Bonded by Blood, Gama Bomb, Evile, Forbidden, and Overkill. (This was the first out of the (as of this writing) 6 times I’ve seen them.)

To mark this occasion, I feel like typing out some thoughts and things I still remember about it. Thoughts under the cut!

Enjoy!

The show was at a small club in a not-that-great area of Providence, RI, called Club Hell. The venue itself is not there anymore.

Like I said, I bought the ticket pretty much on impulse, even though I didn’t have reliable transportation back to school (I was a sophomore in college), as the buses from Providence stopped running at 10 or 11 PM ish on Sunday nights. Pretty irresponsible, I know. So my parents ended up coming up to drive me to and from the club. 

I was admittedly a little nervous, and maybe some of my mom’s worrywart-ness was rubbing off.

But once the music started, I felt all my worries melt away. I just remember leaning against some pole forgetting all of my college stresses. It was a feeling I wish I could experience again for the first time.

Bonded by Blood was first. 

The singer, Mauro, had been in the band for only a few months at this time. They did pretty good.

Gama Bomb was next. 

First I’d heard of them and their music. I think I remember buying their at-the-time newest CD after their set at the merch booth. 

I also remember Gama Bomb’s singer dedicating their song “Three Witches” to “all the ladies here tonight!”

Which was funny, because including myself, I counted maybe 5 or 6 ladies.

I also remember accidentally bumping into Gama Bomb’s singer while walking back from the merch booth to watch Evile.

This (either now or while I was waiting for Gama Bomb to start) was the first time I felt that camaraderie at metal shows that tends to happen when the music plays over the PA in between bands and everyone is rocking out.

Evile was next.

I remember Evile’s newest CD at that time was Infected Nations, which is one of their best (this was before they fell off (IN MY OPINION)). I think this might have been after their former bassist died? I’ll have to look that up.

I remember thinking the singer, Matt Drake, was cute. Also, his British accent probably helped. It’s like that one quote from the newest Yugioh movie: “It’s the accent, gets them every time.”

They were great, I remember headbanging hard to them. Especially “Infected Nations” and “Thrasher,” which was the first song I’d heard by them. 

Forbidden was next.

They had, at that time, put out Omega Wave, their comeback album. This was their reunion tour.

Glad I got to see them at least once before the hiatus they took which I heard they may be coming back from?? Please???

I admittedly didn’t know most of their music, except for their song “Step By Step,” which made me really happy to hear when they ended up playing it.

Holy crap, Russ Anderson. His voice is amazing. 

This concert helped me fall in love with their music and Russ Anderson’s voice. This was back when he was still a little bigger (think CC Sabathia, for all you baseball fans out there).

Finally, Overkill was the headliner. The main reason I made that irresponsible ticket purchase. 

I had made my way up to as close to the front of the stage as I could. Was pretty close to the band members, considering how small the club was. The stage was also pretty small, all things considered.

Overkill had just put out Ironbound, which is their best 2010s album by a country mile. So that was super-cool. 

I’ll have to look this up on Setlist.fm or something later, but I know they started with one of the then-new songs, either “Ironbound” or “The Green and Black.”

I remember they played a song or two from WFO which even I knew back then was a deeper cut. (Even though their 90s stuff isn’t as good.)

Later in the set, some guy in the audience yelled for them to play something from WFO, and Bobby Blitz made some snarky remark about how the guy must have been in the bathroom at the time.

I had been listening to Overkill sine my senior year of high school, so it was super-cool to hear the usual songs like “Rotten to the Core,” “Elimination,” and “Hello From the Gutter.” I remember they played “Wrecking Crew” as well.

You know how during the guitar solos, Blitz often leaves the stage and then nyooms back on stage when the solo ends to resume singing? 

The stage was so small that it didn’t have a backstage, per se, so Blitz just knelt in the corner of the stage during the solos. In theory, I could have grabbed his ass if I had so desired. That’s how close I was.

Ended, of course, with “Fuck You.” That was quite the experience for a first-timer like myself.

When I got out, it was snowing.

As I got back to my dorm room, I remember thinking something like, “I’m half deaf, tired, my feet hurt, I have an early class tomorrow...and I couldn’t be happier.”

I have seen Overkill 5 more times since then. They’ve been freaking great every time. And this show also made me fall in love with going to metal shows. 

Hope to continue that activity once things calm down.

[dickd0c]

STRIKE

CHAPTER SIX — “eight days”

Over the weekend, Nic has finally gotten her new phone. She messaged her brother, her parents, and her few friends that weren't pieces of shit that she was alive and well, and then she arranged for all her stuff to be sent to her. She was happy to know that it would be coming within the week.

Monday morning, Nic got an inkling if a feeling that Athena, Riot, and Tank had some sort of deal going. They'd constantly give each other side looks, murmur things under their breath, but would say nothing if Nic asked them what was up.

She was surprised that the entire weekend went by without her having sex with one of them again. After Riot and Tank both took their turns with her mouth, none of them had come on to her. There was some flirting, which Nic realized they mainly did because it was funny to see her get embarrassed.

She thought all this over as she picked at her blueberry waffle. Suddenly, something brushed against her foot. Nic glanced up to see Athena sitting across from her, but Athena seemed preoccupied with her phone. Nic shrugged, looking back down to her waffle when she felt it again, this time a little higher and slower. When Nic looked up this time, Athena was smirking at her, almost like she was challenging her. Then Athena promptly got up, walking out of the kitchen like nothing happened.

Well, technically, nothing did happen.

"Morning," Tank grunted as he pulled up a chair beside Nic.

Nic shot him a smile, wolfing down the rest of her waffles before pushing the plate away from herself. She felt something brush up against her thigh, but when she looked to the side, Tank's hands were busy playing some stupid game on his phone.

Nic frowned to herself, but got up with her plate in hand. She dumped it in the sink before making her way to her room.

Halfway down the hall, Nic bumped into a hard chest. She stumbled, but someone's steady hands grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling over.

"Watch where you're going," a deep voice scolded her.

Nic looked up to see Alpha's cold grey eyes sending goosebumps up and down her arms. "Sorry," she all but squeaked. She'd barely talked to this guy, but he intimidated the hell out of her.

"Don't be sorry. Just watch out," he huffed, leaving her no time to respond as he sidled around her and walked away to the kitchen.

Shaking her head, Nic simply made her way to her room.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Tuesday night, Nic found herself squirming.

It had been a few days, but none of the three had made a single move on her.

They were at the table eating dinner, making conversation like always. Nic was pressing her thighs together, doing her best to concentrate on eating her tacos rather than concentrating on the idea of one of them eating her.

Across the table, one of Riot's hands spread painstakingly slowly around his glass. He tightened his grip around it, rubbing it absentmindedly with his thumb.

Lips apart, Nic looked away, now crossing her legs.

Tank set his glass down after drinking all the water and pushed his empty plate away. He rubbed his stomach like he was full, threw his head back, and let out a satisfied groan.

Eyes wide, Nic choked on the piece of taco she was eating. Everyone turned to look at her as she choked, leaving her bright pink and barely breathing.

"You okay?" Athena asked from beside her, placing a hand on Nic's thigh as she bent to get a look at her face.

"Mhm," Nic said, standing up suddenly with her plate in hand. She still had half a taco left, but that was the least of her concerns. Nic threw away the remains and placed her dish in the sink, walking out of the kitchen with great hurry. "I'm just tired, I think."

Nic nearly ran to her room, jumping onto her bed with a sigh.

Stay cool, Nica, she warned herself. It's literally only day four without sex.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was day seven.

Nic had hardly been able to concentrate on any of the protests they attended, especially that one on Friday.

Sure, she'd be all into it, shouting things passionately and getting in between the cops and the darker protesters. But then in the corner of her eye, she'd see one of the four in their suit, and she'd forget what she was doing.

Nic was the first out of the car once they reached the apartment. She wasted no time running up there when she saw a bunch of boxes piled up at their front door. In a few seconds, the rest were behind her, picking up a box each and bringing them into the apartment and into Nic's room.

"Thanks," she said as Alpha dumped the last box on top of her bed.

He didn't even glance at her when he walked out of the room.

Rolling her eyes, Nic, began sorting through the boxes. She put her clothes with the ones Athena had bought her, put her books in her nightstand since she didn't have a shelf, and kept her shoes on a little rack in the corner.

She was just going through a box of random miscellaneous items when she saw another smaller plastic box inside it. Nic froze, recognizing the box instantly.

Checking to make sure her door was closed, Nic pulled the box out and opened it up. Sure enough, it was packed tight with all her sex toys. Nic just hoped her brother hadn't looked through her belongings before packing them up.

Nic quickly got up and made sure her door was locked her sitting back down on her bed, legs spread. She picked up one of her favorite toys, a simple vibrating dildo. It wasn't fancy, but it was reliable.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Saturday.

When Nic woke up, she sighed. Day eight.

After carefully hiding her box of toys under her bed, she took a quick cold shower. So what if none of them had come onto her yet? She didn't need them. She had her toys. She didn't need Tank's hand on her throat, Athena's mouth on her breasts, or Riot's scruff between her thighs.

Nic spent the rest of her shower wondering what it would feel like to experience all three at once.

Nic chose the skimpiest clothes she could find. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, she needed one of them to fuck her that day or she'd probably go crazy. After a second though, she chose not to wear a bra either, leaving her in a skintight black tank top that showed off her cleavage and denim shorts half her ass hung out of.

All eyes were on her when she entered the living room. Athena seemed particularly focused on Nic's ass. Tank, with his inhuman height, could literally look down Nic's top. Riot skimmed her whole body, licking his lips when he saw how her cropped tank top left a strip of flesh out in the open.

Even Alpha gave her a second glance. His eyes seemed to darken in anger, but Nic ignored him.

"So," Nic said lightly, sitting down on the sofa next to Riot. "What are we doing today?"

[chemicalmagecraft]

Foresight is 20/20 Chapter 4

I yawned. I probably shouldn't have stayed up so late, and using my Shoraigan apparently didn't help. "You wanted to see me?" I asked as I sat down at the seat he'd prepared for me. Hiashi had told Hinata to tell me to meet him in his office (I was actually already on my way there because future vision), which currently was empty except for him.

Hiashi nodded, then took a sip of his tea. "First, would you like some tea?" He gestured at a cup of tea obviously set out for me. I cautiously took a sip, not wanting to be rude, then gagged. Seriously, how do people drink that stuff? "Not a big tea fan, I guess..." he muttered to himself. I wordlessly pushed the cup away from me, relying on my look of disgust to indicate that he was right. "I wished to see if you have the ability to sense chakra, as you requested. Before that, however, I want to know if you have any more observations about your eyes."

I smirked. "Well first off, and I know that this isn't my eyes, but it's eye-adjacent, soooo..." My smile grew slightly as I channeled a small amount of chakra into the white markings on my eye rings like I did when I activated my Shoraigan, causing the markings to light up like little flashlights for a second. "I know that future sight is objectively the better power, but I still really like this. I'm also hoping that I can somehow turn this into some sort of offensive jutsu somehow, maybe something like Storm Release: Laser Circus?"

Hiashi frowned. "Isn't Storm Release a Kekkei Genkai?" My smug grin returned, which caused him to chuckle. "Ah, right. I'll see if I can find..." He trailed off, then sighed. "I honestly have no idea what we could do for that aside from testing the hand seals used in similar jutsu and perhaps adding elemental chakra in to see if that does anything, but if I somehow come across anything, I'll let you know."

"Thanks. I also figured out that I can displace my senses in just space and not time, which I can use to spy on people undetected. So far, I've noticed no upper limit to the range of that, so if there is one it's already far enough away that I can see other hidden villages without any problems. I guess that displacing my vision in space is a lot less ludicrous than displacing my vision in time. I've also noticed that, for some reason, it's easiest to view a future where I don't exist, if that makes sense." In other words, canon. "With me, I can reliably see about a day into the future. Without me, I've managed to see about thirteen years into the future. I'm sure that I can improve both over time, though."

Hiashi frowned. "Such a powerful dojutsu... using it must have some drawback."

I rolled my eyes and licked my lips. "The Rinnegan only really has a major downside aside from chakra drain if you start using the Outer Path, which 'just' leaves you with summoning everything and anything, turning your body parts into highly advanced technology, attraction and repulsion powers that can be utilized at a magnitude high enough to level a hidden village, sucking up chakra fast enough to destroy and stop ninjutsu, stealing people's souls to read their minds, and some sort of 'if you lie, you die' jutsu. Probably other stuff, too."

Hiashi gaped. "The Rinnegan is real?" he asked with disbelief.

"Yeeeup," I said, making a popping noise with the "p" sound. "I mean, the Shoraigan totally has a weakness, but the Rinnegan isn't a myth."

He frowned. "Why did you mention the Rinnegan, then?"

"I just wanted to see your reaction," I admitted with a chuckle. He sighed. "The downside of the Shoraigan is that using it makes me really tired."

Okay, remember when I said that I was somehow fine staying up for longer than I used to in my past life? See, at one point I ended up staying up a whole night doing nothing but chakra exercises with intermittent breaks to let my chakra regenerate as a test of that "not getting as tired" thing. Then I stayed up the next day when I felt totally fine. And the next day. And the next day. It took five whole days (literally whole days) for me to start to feel really tired, which I had, at the time, chalked up to having abnormal amounts of mental energy or something combined with already having a lot of experience with not falling asleep or something like that. But now, though, I had suspicions...

"I got decent sleep yesterday, but I feel like I've been up for almost a week now."

For the fourth time in the week that I'd known him, Hiashi looked as if his brain bluescreened because of something I said. I was honestly starting to feel a little bad for him at this point. Did he get a concussion recently? "Repeat that last part again?"

It didn't stop me from laughing internally as I answered, though. "I got decent sleep yesterday, but I feel like I've been up for almost a week," I said, as if I was the one speaking to a child. It's not like a small child with my eyes but not my memories would realize anything was wrong with how weird my sleep schedule was without being told, which I was not, so of course I didn't realize "I feel like I haven't slept for a week" was an alarming statement.

He gave me a concerned look. "How are you still awake?"

I gave him a quizzical head tilt. "I'm not really sure what you..." Pause for idea to form... light bulb expression... "Maybe I don't get sleepy? I remember you said that Kekkei Genkai users have better chakra reserves so they can use their Kekkei Genkai. Maybe the Shoraigan has something similar, but with getting tired." I placed a finger on my chin. "Do people get tired after not sleeping for a day?"

"Yes, yes they do. Your theory is... plausible." Hiashi speculated. "Hyuuga are resistant to eye strain and sensory overload, which is a must for using the Byakugan. How much did you use your eyes last night?"

"I spent... like two or three hours testing out my future vision and remote viewing. I found out that I can speed up my future sight, which may have affected how tired it made me."

"How much?"

"I can tell you every noteworthy event that's going to happen in Konohagakure within the next twenty-four hours, some of the goings-on of other major villages in that same time period," Found out that Gaara didn't have his love tat yet and looked in on the other jinchuriki, "and major events within the next thirteen." Okay, I did review some stuff, so that's technically true.

"What else did you do that made you stay up so late?" he asked.

"Jutsu practice, writing down everything I thought I should tell the Hokage, existential horror, trying to shoot lasers out of my markings, and trying to make other new jutsu," I listed off.

"What was that middle one?"

"Lasers are awesome. Weren't you going to teach me how to sensor?"

He chuckled. "Fine, just make sure to get some rest later and don't stay up more than three days in a row, or less if you get tired sooner." He paused for a moment, then said, "I feel like that isn't the sort of thing that a parent normally tells his child... As for chakra sensing, I want you to start by trying to feel the chakra that I'm going to produce." He held his hand out to me, making chakra emanate from his palm. "Hold your hand out if you have to feel it better, just don't touch the chakra." I held out my hand and started to feel... something from it.

"Do you feel it?"

I nodded.

"Good, now close your eyes. Concentrate on how it feels." I did as he asked, sticking my tongue out a little in concentration. "Good. I'm going to pull my chakra away from you a bit, so try to keep feeling the chakra." I already knew where this was going, so I wasn't surprised at all when I heard his voice from across the room a few minutes later, saying, "Now open your eyes." I saw him standing on the far side of the room. "Did you feel it?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He gave me a small but warm smile. "Great, that's the first step. You have the potential."

kukukuku~

"I have a question," I told Hiashi, lying on my stomach on the floor and lazily kicking my legs into the air. I'd just finished another session with Kakashi where he'd taught me the basics of genjutsu, as Hiashi had asked him. I'd... almost gotten yin release down and could already disrupt some genjutsu. Sure, it was only weak genjutsu I could disrupt, but I was looking on the bright side. I theoretically knew illusion powers.

"What is it, Kouki-kun?" he asked.

"What are you going to do about the Caged Bird Seal?"

Hiashi sighed. "Ideally, I'd like to replace it with a seal actually meant to protect our bloodline, but the only seal masters in the Hyuuga family are too stuck in their ways to even consider it and nobody would trust a seal not made by a Hyuuga."

I licked my lips. Exactly the dialogue prompt that I wanted. "So it has to be a Hyuuga, but there aren't any Hyuuga seal masters that you can trust enough to do it." I faux-sighed and exaggeratedly pretended to be annoyed with the implication. "Fiiiiiine, I guess I just have to do it myself."

"What?"

"I'm being raised by the Hyuuga clan head, so hopefully I'll gain the trust of the family within time." Unfortunately my adoption was a little... divisive within the family at the moment. Most of the family trusted Hiashi's judgement, yes, but not everyone. And unfortunately some of those Not Everyones were rather important family members. I just avoided them and acted polite whenever they cornered me. "It wouldn't look suspicious at all for me to learn about seals, seeing how I've already persuaded you to get me knowledge on the subjects of ninjutsu, genjutsu, sensing, and maybe eventually healing. Plus, we've already established that I can stay up for three nights in a row without needing to sleep at all, so that might make me able to learn faster," I listed off.

He stared at me. "You planned this, didn't you?"

I smirked and placed my hand on my chest. "Why father! Are you suggesting, perchance, that I knew you would say that and thus decided to use it as an opportunity to persuade you to have me taught in the ways of sealing?" I smiled slightly at him for a second, then said, "Because if so, I did and I am."

He laughed and ruffled my hair. "Hey!" I yelled.

"You're lucky you're cute," he told me.

"Curses!" I shouted. "My attempts to be taken seriously have been thwarted by my cuteness yet again." Hiashi just chuckled again.

kukukuku~

Sarutobi Hiruzen sighed. He had had a very long day. In addition to the usual paperwork of the Hokage, he'd needed to deal with his advisors and their complete inability to realize why it was a terrible idea to declare war on Kumogakure. Again. Yes, a Kumo-nin had tried to kidnap the Hyuuga child, but the Raikage himself had said that the man was acting rogue and the Hyuuga clan head said that it was fine so long as another incident like that didn't happen. He took off his hat as he finally entered his bedroom, intent on finally getting to take a nice, long nap.

And then he saw the small child of doom sitting cross-legged on his futon. "Hiyah!" I told him.

"Hyuuga Kouki," he sighed. "How did you get in here?"

"I'd say that your guards need to step up their game, but to be fair, I did cheat," I told him, quickly flashing him my eyes as explanation. With the Shoraigan, it'd been pretty easy to know exactly what the patrol was. That, plus the fact that I have really good ears to hear when they were close, made stealthing my way into the Hokage's room pretty easy. My ears were more sensitive than I remembered them being, but I'm pretty sure that that one was just the fact that I was younger and hadn't had to deal with The Loudmouth and Crazy McBarksalot instead of some new magical power I'd been granted. Seriously, I love my little sister, but the best way I can think of to describe her is a younger, female Present Mic with a weaker Quirk and who doesn't talk like a radio show host all the time. Our dog is cute, too, but she's literally barking mad. Or, I suppose, was... "Do you want to know why I'm here?" I asked him, pushing that thought aside.

He sighed. "I'm sure you have some grand revelation that's going to leave me questioning my sanity again."

"Bingo," I said. "First, though, I have to give you my official first bit of advice as your advisor." He nodded and stared at me intently. "You really shouldn't have made some random kid your advisor just because he could see the future. You got lucky that I'm so wise beyond my years."

"I was thinking more about later, when you have more experience, but it's good to know that you're good enough to realize the flaws in my decisions now," he retorted.

"True, buuuut there's also the fact that you have no idea what my intentions are," I countered. "For all you know, I could resent the people of the village for their terrible treatment of Naru-chan. In fact, I do resent them somewhat, but I just forgive them enough to not want to do something stupid. I only resent them enough to want to make them see how horrible their actions are and feel despair from it."

Sarutobi nodded. "I thought of that, but I also decided that if you saved Hinata-chan in the way you did, then your intentions must be good."

I rested my cheek on my hand. "Or I could have just used the incident to get into your good graces. For all you know, I could've unlocked my Shoraigan before the Hyuuga incident and planned that all out in advance."

He sighed. "Your point is?" It wasn't angry or anything, just resigned.

"I'd take my advice with a grain of salt if I were you. Sure, I could just be super upfront about everything, but I could also just be doing all this to lull you into a false sense of security. Best to be careful."

"Okay..." he said. I laughed to myself. He was starting to look confused. "What are your intentions, then?"

I took out my journal, now full of every major event and character that I could think of from Naruto and details about them. "In this book, there are several major events that I plan to stop or mitigate the fallout of." I offered it to him. "Read it all, please."

He took the book and began to leaf through the pages of it. "When did you learn to read and write this well?" he asked me. It was a fair question. Despite the fact that we were speaking Japanese and everything was written in Japanese, I was fully capable of comprehending it all as well as I comprehended English (don't ask how the puns work, just don't). The only snag was that I didn't have any knowledge of kanji, which did make my reading comprehension closer to my age than if I knew kanji, but I still knew a lot of words and could tell what they were in hiragana (or katakana when applicable) even though I hadn't seen or heard them before. My guess was that author!Me just made me able to speak Japanese and didn't adjust my skill to be at my age level. That guy's a lazy jerk, y'know? At any rate, that wouldn't be a good answer for him for multiple reasons. I would have paused to think of an answer if I hadn't seen this whole exchange already.

"I used my eyes to find someone teaching a kid how to read. Managed to get really good from that, somehow. Still need to learn kanji though..." I should probably be disturbed by how well and how nonchalantly I could lie if I have it planned out in advance, but meh. It's probably a good skill for a ninja, anyway... "I think that we should start by doing something about Gaara, then the Uchiha incident, and then start worrying about the invasion," I suggested. "By the way, just in case, you really shouldn't just arrest the people involved immediately. Some of them have yet to do anything. Just be wary of them until you can prove that they've done a punishable offense or are about to do a punishable offense."

"I know that. If I may ask, why would you suggest helping Sunagakure if you know they're going to betray us?" I could tell that it was more of a "test his character" question than a "give me one good reason" question.

"Gaara doesn't deserve it, Suna could be less likely to betray us if we help them, and Gaara and I are raccoon-eye buddies," I listed.

He blinked at that last one. "Raccoon-eye buddies?"

"He has markings around his eyes and I have markings around my eyes," I explained like it was the most obvious thing ever. "I mean, it's as plain as the markings my face." Sarutobi sighed at that.

"What could we even do for Gaara?" he asked, looking at his entry.

"I'm hopefully going to learn about seals, so I'm going to try using my Shoraigan and maybe an unconscious Naru-chan to figure something out if I get good enough. Speaking of, I don't suppose you could get me some sealing notes from the Uzumaki? Especially something about biju-sealing?"

"If you think it'll help, then fine, I'll see what I can do. Having another seal master loyal to Konoha is always a good thing. Are there any other things that you'd like?"

"Jutsu scrolls for Transparency Jutsu and, if you can get them, Earth Release: Earth Spears and Earth Release: Underground Projection Fish or jutsu like them. Preferably the fish one because it doesn't disturb the ground too much and looks super cool." He nodded. "Next, I'd like to say something that I thought of that could help with the Uchiha incident."

"If you think it might help."

"Set up a council of advisors with clan heads, other important shinobi, and elected civilian heads," I advised. "Put more than one highly competent Uchiha on the non-clan shinobi council so that it appeases the Uchiha. And just in general try to keep them from feeling alienated."

"I'll think about it. If that is all, shouldn't you be off to bed? I'm sure your father's worried about you."

I laughed, then started preparing chakra threads so I could Spider-Man away from there. "He knows I'm here. I still should be going, though. The next time window where I can leave is right... about..." Instead of finishing that thought, I jumped out the window into the night, leaving behind a note that said, "Is there any reason why you don't use shadow clones for paperwork?" I didn't see it, but I knew that he was hitting himself as he read it. Because Shoraigan.

kukukuku~

A few weeks later

I got up and stretched for a bit. Sure, that book on seals that Father got me was really interesting, but I couldn't just sit still the whole night. I was amazed at how intuitive it was. It was like what little I'd learned of how to code, but I had yet to lose interest in it because I was learning how to code what was essentially magic. Though I think it was more like a combination between programming, music, and grammar. Maybe. I'd already managed to make a basic seal that just glowed when you put chakra in it. Sure, I could do that myself, but I did it by hacking the universe! That's even cooler than flashlight eyes! Plus it was apparently the first step in making paper bombs (converts chakra into radiant energy, change it to a large burst of thermal and kinetic).

I did some of my exercises, making sure to be quiet so as not to wake anyone up. When I was done, I reached out my senses, hoping to practice my chakra-sensing. It'd been a few weeks since Father had first started me on my chakra-sensing training and I could already sense the general direction of where people were by their chakra from a good distance. Sure, I had to concentrate really hard to do it, but I could sense people! From a distance! It was so cool! I always thought that characters in shows with those powers that allow them to tell where people are were really cool, and it was even cooler to be doing to sensing myself! I did a sweep of the general area that I knew the orphanage was in. I figured that it'd be easier trying to pinpoint a specific person in a group if I started first with the ridiculous chakra beacon that was Naru-chan. He wasn't quite as ridiculous as he would be in ten years, but in an orphanage full of untrained children and with him having already practiced chakra? I found him almost immediately.

I remembered what Karin said about him. Even now, his chakra had that warm glow to it that Karin had felt. I "looked" more closely and felt the seething and sinister chakra of Kurama boiling inside of him. I honestly felt bad for him. I'm pretty sure that in every incident that caused Kurama to have a reputation as a mindless, rampaging beast, he was just controlled by some jerk Uchiha calling himself Madara. Plus, he was sealed in someone for about one lifetime, then transferred to another person, this one with the nickname "Red-Hot Habanero," then when he was finally freed to stretch his legs he was mind-controlled by that masked jerk who I'm pretty sure is actually Obito, then split in half and sealed in an infant. I'd certainly be grumpy if that happened to me.

"A human who actually cares what a biju thinks. Now that's a first," a deep voice said from within my head. I suddenly felt like I was falling, and found myself in a familiar-looking... was it supposed to be a sewer? Thankfully, this time around the floor wasn't wet, though there were two canals on either side of the spacious room where the mind water flowed.

I looked up at the giant fox. "Hello, Kurama," I greeted him.

He looked down on me. "Tch. So you are the seer boy my jailor is so fond of," he said. "I should've realized that you would find some way to get in here."

"The word 'jailor' implies that Naru-chan is aware of your presence and is willingly keeping you here," I corrected, then sat down. "If anything, he's a jail."

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm stuck in here until the seal weakens."

"True," I said. "While I can't outright destroy Naru-chan's seal to set you free, seeing as that would kill him and brand me a traitor to Konoha, I'd like to help you"

"Feh. You just want to get on my good side so you can use me for something," he scoffed.

I licked my lips. "I admit that I would like to pick your brains on the subject of seals, considering how you were inside two Uzumaki, one of whom had Namikaze Minato inside of her," at this point Kurama started laughing hysterically. I waited for him to stop before continuing my speech. "But I'll only do that if you want to. No coercion aside from trying to be nice to you, which you are also totally free to refuse, though I feel I should remind you that I seem to be the only one aside from Naru-chan capable of entering here. Do you know anything about that, by the way?"

He blinked. "I thought that you were using some sort of jutsu meant to contact me."

I shrugged. "I just used chakra-sensing on Naru-chan and got here somehow. I figured that you had something to do with that, what with your biju telepathy and all."

He grumbled. "I can't use that unless I'm close to another biju or Naruto lets me. It'd have to have been you."

"Huh," I said. "I'm starting to think that I was exposed to your chakra back when that intangible guy I doubt isn't actually Uchiha Obito took control of you and... absorbed it, I guess. It'd explain how my eyes can turn red and why I have more chakra than I probably should. Could be the reason behind my Shoraigan. It also sounds like the kind of twist that I'd write in a Naruto SI fic, which also corroborates that theory."

Kurama stared at me, and I felt like his eyes were piercing deep into my soul. "I don't know what that last thing you said means, but I do sense some of my chakra on you. It's disproportionally yin, which explains why you were able to use biju telepathy despite not actively using any of it, but you seem to have been soaked in enough of my chakra that you now naturally produce small amounts of it." That was exactly my headcanon on how Sora, Ginkaku, and Kinkaku worked, by the way. I wonder why I was right. It was almost like I was the one writing it... "How that happened to specifically you, I don't know, though I suppose if you were only an infant at the time you'd need a lot less to get to that point. Perhaps you were just close enough to me that the chakra I gave off was enough."

I blinked. "Did you just... scan me?"

"I used the link you so graciously provided me to sense your chakra, yes."

I tapped my chin with my finger. "Stare into the abyss and it stares back..." I muttered. "Say, what do you think I could do with your chakra?"

"Back when I had actual yin chakra, I could use it to easily use genjutsu, at least easily for me. I have no doubts that you could use my chakra to increase your ability to use genjutsu. You could also probably use it to telepathically communicate with other humans, and perhaps even use my malice-sensing power. Can I ask you a favor?"

"Did you miss the part where I literally said that I would do things for you with no expectation of anything in return?" I snarked, giving him a flat look. "Because last I checked, that's exactly what a favor is."

He chuckled lightly. "Because that asshole Minato sealed most of my yin chakra in himself with the Shiki Fujin, I'm currently at about half power. I can't use it at the moment and I'm still cataclysmically powerful anyway, but my power is a matter of pride for me. Even now, my power is slowly regenerating, but it'd come back much faster if someone on the outside who was producing my yin chakra were to contribute. It won't be much, but it'll help. Just for added motivation, I'd have to teach you to use my yin chakra for you to do it and expending my yin chakra like that would increase not only your stores of human chakra but your ability to produce my chakra as well."

I licked my lips. Sounded like a pretty good deal, as long as it didn't hurt Naru-chan at least. "You do realize that you don't have to give me any motivation for me to help you like that, right? Though it certainly does help." I was silent for a moment, then thought of something. "How would I give you your yin chakra, anyway? Hiruzen had a point when he made you a secret from Naru-chan. The boy should be allowed a normal childhood."

He sighed loudly. "Fine. As much as I'd like to break the boy, I suppose I have to follow your rules if you're going to help me. You should be able to slowly but steadily transfuse small amounts of yin chakra into the boy through touch. It wouldn't be enough for any form of negative repercussion as long as you're not trying to hurt him, and the seal will cause my chakra in his system to flow back to me when he's not using it. All you need is to learn how to use my chakra."

I nodded. "Okay." I thought for a few moments. "Hey, do you think that it'd be possible for me to use some sort of jutsu to, say, temporarily transfer your mind into some form of... I don't know, plush cat maybe?"

Kurama's eyes widened. He grinned, then started to laugh. "Heheheheh... HAHAHAHAHAHAH! I once made a seal to do exactly that after hearing Tobirama explain the Edo Tensei to my first jailor. Well, not the plush cat part specifically, but you know what I mean. I gave up on it after realizing that I would need someone with my chakra to use it, and there was no way that she would ever agree to that. You, however?" His grin widened. "I don't even care how limited my freedom would be. I'd be free!"

I smiled at him. "Good, good. I'll probably have to tell my father before we do it, though. I feel like he might want to know beforehand if I summon the mind of a giant demon fox that attacked the village to put in Fluffy-san."

He grumbled. "I suppose. You'd better give a very good argument as to why you should be allowed to do it."

"You said it's an idea you got from the Edo Tensei, right? I'm sure that Father would be at ease if I knew of a way to send you back without trouble."

"There is a set of seals that can release it like the Edo Tensei, yes. Beyond that, I wouldn't have any of my powers in that body and would eventually be sent back when I run out of chakra, which means that I'd be completely dependent on you. I suggest that you tell him that if he has reservations."

I nodded. "That seems like a good enough argument, especially if I mention how you were controlled during that one incident." I walked up to the bars of his cage and held my hand out to him. He stared at it. "It's called a handshake, though for you it'd be more of a clawshake."

"What."

"It's something that people do when they agree on something, or something like that. All I know for sure is that it's a sign of respect." He blinked, then slowly held a single claw out to me. I grabbed it and shook it with both hands.

"I know what a handshake is, you know." He chuckled. "You know, you are most certainly the strangest human that I've ever met, and that includes the Sage of Six Paths, who had horns."

"Tsesesese~" I chuckled. "Is that really a bad thing?"

He huffed. "I never said that."