#brain dead couldn’t think of a caption

[magic-shop-stories]

Would you be able to write something ot7 based on how they would be in an arranged marriage (both consenting to the marriage but just maybe not super happy about it at first or maybe they are but are awkward or however you want to do it.) Maybe like a head cannon? I really love the ones that you’ve written. Maybe some angst, some fluff, cuteness, smut. It’s okay if you can’t. I look forward to reading your work in the future either way!

💌 Reply:

Hi there! 💜 Thank you so much for this brilliant request... OT7 arranged marriage? YES, my brain is already spinning with drama, reluctant pining, and chaotic bonding moments. I’ll dive into angsty tensions (looking at you, Yoongi), awkward fluff (Jin’s "worldwide handsome" wedding meltdowns), and eventual OT7 devotion... ahhh my head!!!. I hope you like it... it’s been a blast to write! Thank you for inspiring this chaos! 🖤

NOTE:IMPORTANT! Due to Tumblr’s persistent "processing error" (RIP my sanity), I couldn’t post the full OT7 arranged marriage headcanons in one go without the draft self-destructing, so I split it up not wanting to not post...

THIS POST = Hyung Line (Namjoon, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi

Maknae Line (Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook) in extra post

Apologies for the hassle! Blame Tumblr’s coding demons, not your sleep depreeved girl that tried to get help from tumblr support for almsot three days (RIP)

LINK TO MAKNAE LINE POST

Warnings: themes of arranged/forced unions, dark political intrigue, family manipulation, heavy emotional distress/internal conflict, explicit content (light smut), subtle violence/domestic tension, corporate and academic power plays

Arranged Marriage Headcanons (AU) (Angst/Fluff/Smut Mix)

NAMJOON = RELUCTANT HEIR & HIS UNLIKELY MUSE

“You think I’m a disaster? Wait till you see my heart.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family owns a tech empire on the brink of collapse

Namjoon’s lineage controls a global network of libraries and academic institutions

your union merges knowledge and innovation to outmaneuver rivals

Your Reason

you agreed to protect your younger sibling from being forced into the marriage instead

Namjoon’s Reason

his father’s dying wish

“Preserve our legacy. Even if it costs you your freedom.”

THE WEDDING

= CLASH OF WORLDS

Your Attire

sleek, modern gown

holographic train (nod to your family’s tech roots)

Namjoon’s Attire

navy hanbok with a frayed hem

“It’s my grandmother’s. She… believed in love. I don’t.”

Location

library-turned-venue

books stacked into aisles

other BTS members sit in the front row:

Jin mouths “You’ll be fine!” 

discreetly flipping off a scowling uncle

Yoongi mutters, “This is dystopian.”

slips you a flask of whiskey

Jungkook frowns at his tie

Hobi adjusts it for him

Jimin squeezes your hand before you walk the aisle

Taehyung sketches the scene

captioning it “Two Strangers & A Thousand Books.”

Vows

You: “I promise not to sell your books. Even the boring ones.” Namjoon: “I… promise to try not to set the lab on fire. Again.” 

nervous smirk

crowd laughs awkwardly

Reception

you hide in a bathroom stall

Namjoon finds you

knees pulled to your chest

You: “This is a mistake. ”Namjoon: “Probably. But mistakes make the best footnotes.”

offers his hand

“Dance with me? The DJ’s playing Debussy.”

EARLY DAYS

= TENSION & TEA STAINS

Mansion

fusion of your tech (holographic walls, AI assistants)

his chaos (leaning bookshelves, half-dead bonsais)

First Fight

over the thermostat

You: “Why is it so low? Are you preserving yourself?!” Namjoon: “Cold air helps me think! And your robots keep judging me!”

glares at your hovering drone

Members’ Meddling

Jin “accidentally” sends you both to a couples’ spa

Namjoon gets mud-mask in his hair

you laugh for the first time in weeks

Yoongi leaves a playlist called “Songs for Idiots Who Can’t Communicate.”

Taehyung gifts a shared journal: 

“Write to each other. Or draw dicks. Whatever.”

Breaking Point

Namjoon works through the night, ignoring you

you snap, throwing his Plato anthology out the window

You: “Marry your books next time!” Namjoon: “I did! But they don’t yell at me!”

Silence!!!

he mumbles then

 “…But they also don’t make me want to be better.”

TURNING POINTS

= PAPERBACK ROMANCE

Storm

power outage

you find him in the dark

he's reciting Rumi to calm himself

you join in, voice shaking

he whispers: “You’re… good at this.”

Lab Incident

you collaborate on an AI project

he breaks your prototype

fixes it with a makeshift solution

it's so genius you kiss him mid-rant

Journal

you doodle a robot holding a flower

he writes back: 

“Metaphor for us? Fragile, but… growing.”

INTIMACY

= NERVOUS HANDS, BURNING PAGES

First Kiss

after he quotes Pablo Neruda at 2 a.m.

you cut him off

pressing him against a bookshelf

“Poetry later.” 

Namjoon: “I—I’ve never… I mean, I’ve read about….” You: “Let’s write about it instead.”

Smutty Moments

his clumsiness dissolves into precision when he’s focused

maps your body like a forgotten text

murmuring, “Here… you shiver. Why?”

lets you take control

surprises you with sudden confidence

pinning you to his desk, glasses askew

“I’m a quick study.”

he wraps you in his oversized sweater

reads Vonnegut aloud until you sleep

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you convert the mansion into a free tech/library hub for students

members visit often:

Jin teaches cooking classes

“Step one: don’t let Joon near the stove!”

Jungkook and Hobi build a VR poetry garden

Tae paints a mural of you and Namjoon

you as a warrior, him as a scholar, back-to-back

Namjoon’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony): “You were the footnote that became the whole story.” You: “And you’re the disaster I’d choose a thousand times.”

Final

chases your toddler through the library

both laughing

Jimin whispers: “Who knew Captain Chaos could be such a dad?”  Yoongi: “Shut up. They’re cute.”

JIN = RELUCTANT PRINCE & HIS UNEXPECTED DUET

“You think I’m just a pretty face? Sweetheart, I’m the whole damn symphony.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family (old-money hotel tycoons) needed Jin’s royal-blooded lineage

= a literal prince from a dissolved monarchy

needed him to revive their global reputation

his family, in turn, craved modern wealth to fund their cultural preservation projects

Your Reason

to save your father’s empire from bankruptcy

Jin’s Reason

to protect his brother from being forced into the marriage

“He’s too soft for this shit.” 

signing the contract with a flourish

“I’ll handle it. I always do.”

THE WEDDING

= SPARKLES, SARCASM, AND SECRET TEARS

Your Attire

champagne-colored gown with a 15-foot train

= your mother’s choice

feeling more like a chandelier than a bride

Jin’s Attire

custom ivory tuxedo

actual Swarovski crystals sewn into the lapels

“If I’m a pawn, I’ll be the shiniest pawn in history.”

smirks, adjusting his cufflinks

Location

historic palace ballroom

BTS members are your reluctant bridal party:

Yoongi as the “flower guy”

chucks petals like baseballs

Hobi accidentally trips the DJ’s cord

switching the march song to “Dynamite”

Jungkook spills wine on your toxic aunt

“Oops. Gravity’s a bitch.”

Namjoon gives a rambling speech about “love as a societal construct” 

Jimin steals the mic

Taehyung photobombs every picture

Vows

You: “I vow not to murder you in your sleep. Even if you deserve it.” Jin: “I vow to keep my handsomeness at a manageable level… which is impossible, but I’ll try.” 

crowd groans

he winks

Reception

Jin drags you onto the balcony

both suffocating from the fakeness

You: “This is hell.” Jin: “Hell has a open bar and a photo booth. Lighten up.” 

plucks a rose from a centerpiece

tucking it behind your ear

“You look better when you’re not pretending to smile.”

EARLY DAYS

= EGO CLASHES & EMOTIONAL ESPRESSO MACHINES

Penthouse

luxury high-rise with floor-to-ceiling windows

Jin’s side is spotless

yours looks like a tornado hit a tech conference

First Fight

over his “no carbs after 8 PM” rule

You: “You’re not my personal trainer!” Jin: “And you’re not my wife! Oh wait...”

he freezes

you slam the door

he spends the night serenading your locked room with “Epiphany” until security is called

Members’ Meddling:

Hobi forces you both into couple’s karaoke

Jin belts “Yours” with dramatic vibrato

you accidentally harmonize

Jimin gifts matching pajamas

“Argue in style, losers.”

Yoongi sends a text

“Just bang it out. Literally.”

Breaking Point

Jin hosts a lavish dinner to impress your parents

you catch him re-plating your homemade dumplings into fancy china

You: “Why? My cooking not good enough for Prince Perfect?” Jin: “No! I just… didn’t want them to criticize you.” 

his voice cracks

“I know what that feels like.”

TURNING POINTS

= FROM PAGEANTRY TO PARTNERS

Midnight Kitchen

you find him stress-baking at 3 a.m.

flour in his hair

“I… don’t know how to be real with you." 

you help him fold dumplings

hands brushing

“Start here."

Scandal

Paparazzi photos of him clubbing surface

he panics

you shut it down

“We were both there. Dancing badly. Next question.” 

he stares

“Why defend me?”  “Because you’re mine to tease. Not theirs.”

Gift

buys you a vintage gaming console after overhearing you rant about childhood nostalgia

“I’m not trying to be sweet. It was on sale.”

INTIMACY

= VANITY MELTED INTO VULNERABILITY

First Kiss

after he wins a gaming battle

gloating: “Bow to your king.” 

you yank his collar

silencing him

he melts

whispering: “Okay, you win. But I’m still prettier.”

Smutty Moments

his confidence is infuriatingly hot

undoes his shirt one button at a time

smirk never fading

“Like what you see? It’s a limited edition.”

when you trace the scar on his hip (a childhood accident), he flinches

“I don’t… show people that.” 

you kiss it

“Now it’s my favorite part.”

morning after:

cooks pancakes shaped like his face

“So you never forget who’s really in charge.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-own a Michelin-starred restaurant

him in the kitchen

you handling tech

members are “taste-testers”:

Jungkook challenges Jin to eat a ghost pepper

Jin win

then cries into your shoulder

Taehyung paints a mural of Jin as a “Grecian God of Noodles.”

Yoongi invests

muttering: “Only because the kimchi pancakes are decent.”

Jin’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony)

“I used to think love was a performance. You taught me it’s… a really messy duet.” 

slips a ring made from a broken crystal off his wedding tux

“Perfectly imperfect. Like us.”

You: “Still a drama king.” Jin: “And you’re still my favorite audience.”

Final

carries your toddler on his shoulders through the restaurant

both wearing mini chef hats

Jimin snaps a pic for Instagram: 

“Worldwide Handsomest Appa 💜.”

YOONGI =  BROKEN MAESTRO & HIS UNLIKELY SYMPHONY

“You want my heart? Dig through the rubble first.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

merger between Seoul’s oldest underground music empire (Yoongi’s family, the Min Syndicate)

your family’s cutting-edge tech conglomerate

alliance ensures dominance over rival factions trying to monopolize the city’s cultural soul

your family gets street cred

his gets financial leverage

Your Reason

to protect your startup from being crushed by corporate sharks

Yoongi’s Reason

to shield hisolder brother and girlfriend from a life of debt and danger

“He’s a pianist, not a pawn,” 

Yoongi growls signing the contract

cigarette dangling from his lips

“I’ll be the villain. Always am.”

WEDDING

= SMOKE, SILENCE, AND A SCAR

Your Attire

black velvet gown with a high collar

designed to hide the mic transmitter sewn into the hem

= wedding gift from your engineers

Yoongi’s Attire

charcoal suit, no tie, sleeves rolled to his elbows

later (after unbuttoning his shirt) revealing a scar on his shoulder

when you ask about it, he snaps

“None of your business.”

Location

renovated warehouse in Mapo-gu

chains hang from the ceiling

draped with fairy lights

BTS members linger like shadows:

Jin heckles Yoongi: 

“You look constipated. Smile, Your Grumpiness!”

Hobi nervously rearranges the altar candles

Jimin stops him

“Hyung, they’re not Lego.”

Taehyung scribbles lyrics on the program

Jungkook pockets a steak knife (just in case)

Namjoon gives a speech quoting Kierkegaard: 

“Life isn’t a problem to be solved, but..” 

Yoongi cuts him off: 

“Save it, Plato.”

Vows

You: “I vow not to hack your studio. Unless you deserve it.” Yoongi: “I vow to… exist. That’s all you’re getting.”

Reception

he disappears

you find him on the rooftop, nursing a flask

staring at the scarred skyline

You: “Regretting this already?” Yoongi: “Regret implies I had a choice.” 

offers the flask

Yoongi: “Whiskey?” You: “I prefer soju.” Yoongi (smirking): “Figures. You’re trouble.”

EARLY DAYS

= WAR ZONE WITH A SOUNDTRACK

Loft

concrete bunker with a studio booth, neon signs

your tech sprawled across a steel desk

his side smells like smoke and espresso

yours like solder and ambition

First Fight

over noise complaints

You: “Your bass shakes the damn walls at 3 a.m.!” Yoongi: “Your robots sound like dying cats. Fix them.”

Compromise

he produces a track titled “STFU (Sweetheart, This Frequency)” 

he blasts it

you retaliate by hacking his speakers to play “Nyan Cat” on loop

Members’ Meddling

Jimin leaves a “Romance for Dummies” playlist:

Track 1: “I Need U” (acoustic)

Yoongi deletes it

you recover it

Jin sends a “Couples’ Survival Kit”

= bandaids, earplugs, and a “Worldwide Handsome” facemask

Yoongi burns the mask

Taehyung paints a mural of you both as rival superheroes

Yoongi begrudgingly hangs it in the hallway

Breaking Point

you overhear him arguing with a loan shark on the phone

“Touch my brother and I’ll end you.” 

later, he works until his hands bleed

you storm in

slamming a first-aid kit on his desk

You: “You’re not a martyr. Stop acting like one.” Yoongi: “What do you care?” You (yanking his chair around): “Because I hate wasted potential. Even yours.”

TURNING POINTS

= CRACKS IN THE ARMOR

Scar Story

comes home shirtless

fresh from a fight

shoulder scar raw

you clean his wounds silently

he finally confesses

“I got it at 19. Accident, later took a knife for my brother. Worth it.”

Collab

you design a synth program for his mixtape

he grumbles: “Don’t fuck it up." 

stays up with you for 48 hours

when it’s done, he mutters, “…Not bad.” 

high praise

Nightmare

wakes screaming from a panic attack

you don’t ask

just hold him

he tenses

then collapses into your arms

“Don’t… tell anyone.” 

INTIMACY

= ROUGH EDGES, HIDDEN TENDERNESS

First Kiss

you beat him at Mario Kart

he slams his controller

“Bullshit. You cheated.”

you lean in

“Cry about it.” 

he kisses you like a man starved

all teeth and desperation

“Happy?”  “Getting there.” 

you smirk

Smutty Moments

his touch is intense

almost angry

bites your lip

grips your hips hard enough to bruise

when you trace his scar, he stills

whispering: “Careful. That’s… my weak spot.”

mornings after

= he’s gone before dawn

but leaves a coffee on your desk (creamer ratio perfect)

catches you humming his melody

“You… like it?” 

you shrug

“It’s okay.” 

he hides a smile

“Yeah. Okay.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-found SugaTech

= hybrid music-tech empire

loft is now a studio where street kids learn production

members are regulars:

Hobi teaches dance breaks

Jin judges ramen cook-offs

Jungkook films a docu-series: 

“Min Yoongi: Grump with a Gold Heart.” 

Yoongi threatens to sue

Namjoon hosts poetry slams

Yoongi “accidentally” plays trap beats over them

Yoongi’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony): 

“I don’t believe in fate. But you? You’re a glitch in the system I can’t delete.”

You: “Still a romantic, I see.” Yoongi: “Shut up. And… thanks. For not giving up.”

Final

cradles your newborn daughter

her tiny fist gripping his pinky

Jimin coos: “Uncle Yoongi’s a softie!” 

Yoongi flips him off

but kisses her forehead

“Don’t tell anyone, kid.”

J-HOPE = SUNSHINE WARRIOR & HIS SHADOWED HEART

“You want the real me? Brace yourself, it’s not all confetti and glitter.”

WHY THE MARRIAGE HAPPENED

Political Context

your family (philanthropists rebuilding war-torn regions) needed Hobi’s family

= a dynasty of cultural ambassadors

to legitimize their global outreach

his clan was drowning in debt from funding art festivals

the marriage merges hope and hustle

Your Reason

to shield your NGO from being dismantled by corrupt officials

Hobi’s Reason

to protect his family’s dance studio from foreclosure

“We'd rather die than lose it.” 

signing the papers with a too-bright smile

“So… let’s dance through hell together, yeah?”

WEDDING

= PERFORMANCE WITH CRACKED MASK

Your Attire

fiery red gown with a detachable skirt

for “emergency escapes.”

you joke about it

Hobi’s Attire

gold-tailored suit, sequined gloves

shoes that click when he walks

“Gotta shine, even in the dark.”

his knuckles whiten around a stress ball

Location

renovated theater in Busan

BTS members are co-conspirators:

Jin hijacks the DJ booth

blasting “Chicken Noodle Soup” and "Super Tuna"

Yoongi mans the bar

slipping extra shots into Hobi’s lemonade

“Liquid courage”

Jimin choreographs the bridal party’s entranc

Taehyung trips

Jungkook backflips to cover it

Namjoon accidentally sets the floral arch on fire

“Symbolic… of passion?” 

Vows

You: “I vow to never dull your sparkle. Even when it’s blinding.” Hobi: “I vow to… keep smiling. For both of us.” 

his voice wavers

Reception

drags you into a storage closet

collapsing against the wall

You: “You’re shaking.”Hobi: “Adrenaline. I’m fine.”

he laughs, hollow

“Always fine.” 

you press a hand to his chest

his heartbeat races

“…Liar.”

EARLY DAYS

= SUNSHINE STORMS

Penthouse

minimalist space splashed with neon art

his dance studio takes up half the living room

your NGO blueprints cover the kitchen table

First Fight

over his relentless optimism

You: “Stop saying ‘It’ll work out!’ when it won’t!” Hobi: “What do you want me to do? Cry? Scream? Would that make you feel better?!”

slams the door

then returns with tea

“…Sorry. Habit.”

Members’ Meddling

Jimin signs you up for salsa classes

Hobi’s grin slips when you stumble

J-Hope: “You’re… not a dancer, huh?”  You: “Not everyone’s a prodigy.” 

you snap

he freezes

Taehyung paints a mural of you both as sun and storm clouds

Hobi stares at it for hours.

Jin sends a “Fight Clean!” kit

= boxing gloves and herbal tea

“Hit each other safely!”

Breaking Point

you find him practicing a routine at 3 a.m.

shirt soaked, eyes bloodshot

You: “You’ll collapse.” Hobi: “I have to be perfect. For Army, for the family, for y..." You (grabbing his wrists): “For who? Me? I didn’t marry perfection. I married you.” 

he crumples

TURNING POINTS

= RAINBOWS AFTER RAIN

Panic Attack

he hyperventilates before a charity gala

you drag him to a bathroom

wiping his smudged eyeliner

“Breathe. Just… be Hoseok tonight.”

Dance

teaches you a simple waltz

“Stop counting steps. Feel the music.” 

you sway, foreheads touching

“See? You’re a natural.”

Truth

confesses his family’s debts

“I’m not the hero they think I am.” 

you show him your NGO’s failures

“We’re both faking it. Let’s… fake it together.”

INTIMACY

= FIERY RHYTHMS, QUIET TRUTHS

First Kiss

after he wins an award for his charity work

he’s mid-speech, voice cracking

you pull him backstage and kiss him fiercely

“You don’t have to perform for me.”

Smutty Moments

his passion is electric

hands gripping your waist

hips moving like he’s choreographing your bodies

“Keep up” 

he smirks, but his eyes beg "Don’t let go"

he traces your scars (physical, emotional)

“Beautiful.The cracks… they let the light in.”

catches you dancing badly to his playlist

“Cute.” 

he teases you

later joining in

“But here... let me lead.”

HOW IT ENDS

Five Years Later

you co-run a community center

dance classes upstairs

crisis counseling downstairs

members are family:

Jungkook teaches parkour

Yoongi funds music therapy

Jimin and Tae host monthly “Dance Away the Pain” nights

Namjoon writes grants

Jin cooks endless kimchi stew for everyone for free

Hobi’s Vows (Renewal Ceremony)

“I used to think love was a performance. You taught me it’s… a freestyle. Messy. Real.” 

slips a ring made from his familys old studio key

“Home is wherever we’re both… us.”

You: “Still cheesy.” Hobi (grinning through tears): “But you love it.”

Final

he spins your daughter in the studio

her giggles echoing

Jimin films it

Hobi posts it with “#DaddyHobi”

then immediately deletes it

he's blushing

“That stays in the vault!”

JIMIN/TAEHYUNG/JUNGKOOK in extra post

[sp-by-april]

Fucking Up What Matters - 03. Dead On Arrival

FYI. This chapter was 28 pages, so I had to split it. This chapter is the first 17 pages. I had to do it if I wanted to post it tonight!! I'm so sorry. This chapter is all about the guys, but the girls have stuff going on.

It might’ve been the altitude, the weed, or the years of psychic rot from a town that usually had more snow than common sense, but Park County Community College pulsed with a strange kind of energy that summer.

Tweek Bros. had just opened a franchise in the library, and even though the espresso machine sounded like an 80s scream queen, the line stretched out the door every morning. Not because the coffee was good, but because it was the only place on campus you could panic in peace.

The rec center had a functioning gym, a pingpong table with only one dent, and a surprisingly competitive intramural basketball league.

And despite the constant threat of being snowed in or accidentally registering for a class that no longer existed, students kept coming.

Locals who couldn’t afford to leave. Weirdos who couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Kids who weren’t done figuring shit out.

It had been a week since “the kiss heard ‘round the town,”

One week since he’d tasted strawberry lip gloss and Charli’s fury in the same breath.

Since Cartman’s sweaty little fingers blasted a photo to the internet before Kyle even opened his eyes.

Since Heidi Turner stopped blinking and started posting.

Leaves scraped across the concrete of Park County Community College’s quad.

A girl in a crop top sneered behind her iced coffee. A trio of guys stared too long. And Kyle Broflovski, despite all efforts to disappear into his hoodie, was very much being noticed.

The worst part?

He hadn’t even done anything. Not really.

He kissed someone. In the parking lot.

Sure, that someone was Charli.

Sure, it was the kind of kiss that ended wars or started them.

But the Instagram post, Heidi’s little nuke, complete with sparkly captions and psychoanalysis, had turned that moment into lore.

When your boyfriend cheats on you with a mentally unstable pickme from Louisiana.

And now? Now Kyle was infamous.

He tried not to meet anyone’s eyes. His sunglasses helped. So did his hoodie. Greenish-gray, basic, drawn low like he was starring in a movie about avoiding accountability.

Stan flanked him to the left, hands in pockets, a little bored-looking in that way that said I’m hot, but please don’t talk to me about it.

Kenny was on the right, radiating his usual enigmatic aura, already scanning the quad, as if Martine might descend from the sky in her purple Charger and demand he get in. She wouldn’t, but he’d hope anyway. Cartman trailed behind them.

Kyle kept walking.

Some guy in a faded frat tee grinned and slapped him on the back, “Bro. You upgraded,”

Kyle flinched like he’d been caught jerking off in temple, “Thanks,” 

Cartman grinned behind him, “Ladies and gentlemen, hide your daughters. Kyle Broflovski has entered the quad. Fresh off his tour as The Man Who Fucked Around and Found Out,”

Kenny’s voice cuts in low, wickedly amused, “Think she’ll be at Martine’s rooftop thing next weekend?”

Kyle glares sideways, jaw clenched, “Shut up,”

“Just sayin’,” Kenny shrugged, “You could text her,”

“I’m not texting her,” Kyle snapped, too fast, too sharp.

“You’re wearing sunglasses in the shade,” Stan muttered, “You look like you’re hiding from TMZ,”

Kyle flipped him off without looking.

He hadn’t seen Charli since. Not in class. Not at Tweek Bros. Not even in the background of someone else’s Snapchat story. Martine had taken her like some vengeance demon in heels and disappeared into the rich-girl mist. And Kyle had been left to rot in the fallout.

Kyle wanted to scream. He hadn’t slept. He hadn’t eaten since 9 a.m. the day before. His brain was on a loop of Charli’s lips, Charli’s thighs, Charli’s silence; Every time he thought about reaching out, the image of Martine’s hand yanking Charli away burned across his retinas.

Cartman broke the tension with a theatrical gasp, “Oh my God, is that what this is?”

He gestured dramatically to Kyle’s getup, “You’re doing the whole ‘mourning the forbidden kiss’ thing? Hoodie and sunglasses? Jesus Christ, are you gonna drop a mixtape about your feelings?”

Kyle stopped walking.

Turned to Cartman.

The silence around them sharpened.

Stan exhaled slowly, bracing himself.

Cartman smirked like he’d just lit a fuse.

Kyle’s voice was low, teeth clenched, “Say one more thing,”

Cartman smirked as he took a strategic step away, “I’m just saying. Who’s fault is it your tongue found its way into someone else’s esophagus while you were still dating Psychology Barbie?”

Kyle felt his stomach churn. He wasn’t ashamed of the kiss. He was ashamed of what came after. Of not fighting harder. Of letting Martine win. Of the silence. Of Charli not reaching out. Of the fact that he hadn’t either.

He thought about turning around. Going home. Jumping into Stark’s Pond and letting nature do the rest.

Cartman slowed down in front of him, spinning around dramatically to walk backward, “Y’know, Kyle, statistically speaking, there’s no coming back from this. You’re the villain now,”

Kyle shoved past him, shouldering Cartman so hard he stumbled.

“Fuck!” Cartman cackled, grinning wide, “Guess I touched a nerve,”

“Dude,” Stan muttered, “He’s gonna kill you one day. And I’m not gonna stop it,”

But then he saw her.

Under the tree, half-shadowed by branches and light, was Charli. Reading. One leg crossed over the other, skirt ruffled at the thigh, a pen tapping lightly against her lip. She didn’t see him. Or maybe she did and didn’t care.

His body flooded with heat and it felt like every cell screamed her name.

Kenny followed his gaze. Stan just shook his head, quiet. Watching Kyle spiral had become something of a team sport.

Across the quad, Charli sat beneath the oldest oak tree on campus. The one that had watched generations of students fall in love, fall out of love, cheat on exams, smoke questionable herbs, and once, famously, stood by as Cartman get his ass kicked by Bebe in red wedges.

She was reading. Not because she cared about the book (something postmodern and exhausting) but because she knew the best way to summon Kyle Broflovski was to look unavailable.

[Read The Full Chapter on Ao3]

[copias-girl]

The Papas vs Technology Headcanons

Ask and you shall receive! @ivyanddaisies

Prompt here

Primo

Ok Peepaw has no use for social media or technology. He’s still marvelling at his vintage tube tv, because he’s old and he was around before the tv <3 And he’d literally rather send a raven with a message rather than text. You pushed him to give it a shot, and being the sweet elder goth that he is, he gave it the good old college try just for you. Alas, he grew frustrated easily. He kept having to whip out the reading glasses to read what was on the screen, and he couldn’t tell if that vibrating in his pocket was the iPhone or if he was having a seizure. Not to mention, he accidentally activated Siri on several occasions and he thought the spirit of a demon was speaking to him and apparently telling him the weather forecast. The only thing he really found a use for was the gardening stuff on Pinterest, but he has plenty of books in the library for that anyway. And as for nudes? He has a Polaroid camera for that. Our sweet old man much prefers the feeling of answering calls on his candlestick phone, and he’ll gladly leave the selfie-taking to you ♥︎

Secondo

Alright, Mr. Worldwide tries to be hip and cool, so he definitely owns the latest iPhone. However, he’s had to replace it several times because when he gets frustrated, that thing goes flying across the room. He tried to use the voice dictation one time and his entire text came out hilariously wrong so he threw his phone out of one of the ministry windows. He texts with one finger like an old man, never uses emojis (he calls them hieroglyphics), and he keeps telling you that he wants to “duck your brains out”. He genuinely tries to take selfies, and that can be hit or miss. Sometimes it’s a typical old man selfie where you can see all the way up his nose, but he did execute this fantastic shirtless selfie one time,,, Bone Daddy starts an Instagram where he makes a few adorably lame posts trying to be edgy and dark. But he mainly uses that to post selfies (ones you’ve taken of the both of you) to show you off. He loves when you send him dirty pictures and he’s also found that FaceTime is perfect for some,,, fun activities 👀

Terzo

Oh my god, the biggest social media whore. He’s only two months younger than Secondo, but he’s somehow overcome his oldness and mastered the art of the iPhone. He has an Instagram, where he posts pictures of the two of you on dates or in bed together covered in rose petals and lip prints. Dude even has Snapchat, where he updates his story with some chaotic videos every now and then. He can text with his thumbs, but he does make some really hilarious typos which are exceptionally frustrating when he’s trying to sext with you (this man demands nudes from you constantly). He actually knows what most emojis mean- he will literally text you the eggplant emoji next to everything 🍆- and only has to ask for your help to decipher some of them. He rubs it in his brothers’ faces as much as he can, calling them old men because they don’t know how to use tech as well as he does. And Secondo finds his use of emojis really irritating because he has no idea what the fuck ‘🤪😝🙃🫠🥴🙄🥸💀’ means

Copia

Oh, Copia. Sweet pitiful Copia. He tries, he really does, but this man has no idea how to use emojis. He types with one finger, makes plenty of typos, and always uses the rat emoji for no apparent reason. Also, he disperses emojis into sentences so his texts always read like this:

Ciao 👋🏻🐀 bella 😚 I am going 🔜 to feed 🧀 my rats 🐀 want to come 😀 with me?🤝🏻

He’s such a dork and you never ever correct him because it’s just too charming. His selfies are often painfully awkward, because he thinks that just staring dead-eyed into the camera and snapping the picture constitutes as a selfie. And he’ll post those on Insta too, sometimes with captions that he got off Pinterest. Or sometimes the captions will be about rats for literally no reason. However, he does make awfully sweet posts about you that have your heart melting when you read them. This sweet man LOVES when you send him naughty pictures and rile him up via text. It gives him a thrill and makes him feel so special. Copia also surprisingly uses Pinterest occasionally, because he finds it relaxing. He’s such a gentle soul, and he enjoys saving things about pet rats, aesthetic things that he’d like to show you later, or even some recipes that the two of you could cook together. However, he doesn’t use Pinterest correctly. He doesn’t pin things, he just screenshots them (because you taught him how to take a screenshot). So even though he isn’t the most religious social media user or the best at working technology, he tries and has a good time ♥︎

[ilyasorokinn]

from the music prompt list number 10 with barzy please!!!

BEAUTIFUL BLUSHING BRIDE

10. “it’s a beautiful night, we’re looking for something dumb to do / hey baby, i think i wanna marry you” (from this prompt list)

mat and you were the classic case of opposites attract. between the two of you, he was more spontaneous, while you were more planned and liked to keep things organized.

whenever he had an idea, he would just do it. but there was one thing that was on his mind that he couldn’t just go out and act on. 

you were sitting on the ground working on your latest midnight craft (for some reason, they always come at midnight), and mat was there to help you paint, cut, staple, and everything else.

“so...” he hesitated.

“so...” you repeated, looking up from what you were painting.

“i was thinking...”

“never a good thing,” you muttered.

“ugh, ignoring your rude comments.” he playfully rolled his eyes, “it’s kind fo stupid. just a thought i had that’s been swirling around my brain.” he shrugged.

“spit it out, mathew.” you turned to him, giving him your full attention.

“i think we should get married.” he blurted out, looking at you to see your reaction.

you stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was being genuinely serious, “oh, you were being serious?” you asked.

“what? did you think i was joking?”

“i don't know. sometimes you say really stupid things.” you turned back your painting. you went back to working in silence, until you broke it, “are you being serious? about wanting to marry me?” 

“as a heart attack,” he told you, looking you dead in the eyes. there was nothing funny in them, “i got a ring a few months ago, but didn’t know how to do it.” he admitted.

“geez...” you ran a hand across your face, not even caring about the paint at that point, “are you sure your sure?” you asked again.

“yes.” he nodded.

“then i guess your gonna have to get used to the idea of me forever.” you smiled nervously, watching him break out into a big smile. he stood up, wrapping his arms around you, and picking you up off the ground.

“are you sure your sure?” he repeated your words.

“yes.” you nodded, smiling down at him, and pulling him in for a kiss.

two days later, you were standing in the courthouse, you in a white dress and mat in a navy blue suit. you hadn’t told anyone about your plan to get married, but you were planning on announcing it after you actually had the certificate. you walked out of the courthouse, hand-in-hand with big smiles on your faces. 

after lunch, you called your families and told them you had gotten married. they all lost their minds but were very happy for you both. you then, instead of informing the team in a normal way, mat wanted to kind of prank them. 

he posted a photo of and him from a different wedding, with the caption “my beautiful blushing bride. here’s to forever with you.” in only a matter of minutes, his phone was buzzing with texts from the team. 

your phone was also buzzing with calls and texts from your friends, “here’s to forever.” he smiled.

“forever.” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then walking into the other room to answer your phone. 

[junosartsthetic]

Feel like I'm requesting too much 3 with Tenya Iida :)

“Have you ever felt like this before?”

Well, well, well, if it isn't my old friend getting carried away with writing. We meet again. But seriously. I love writing and you can never request too much. I love fulfilling requests. And this was super cute to write!

__

You could tell by the look in his eyes that he’d never been to a theme park before. Being that he was from a rich family, you were surprised. Though, being that Tenya was all work and no play, you shouldn’t have been too in shock.

You, being the daredevil you were, dragged him straight to the most intense coaster in the entire park. Lucky for you, Tenya had managed to buy some fastpasses, thus you ran straight to the start of the ride, bouncing excitedly.

“Are you positive these rides are safe,” he mumbled to you. You shot him a look.

“Umm, yeah?” You noticed he shook slightly. “Are you scared or something? We could have planned something else to do for fun, ya know.”

You nudged his arm. “We’re friends. You can tell me if you don’t wanna be here. I won’t be mad or anything.”

He shook his head, giving you his usual friendly smile. “No, it’s okay. I want to try something new. And I want to spend time with you.”

One of the operators gestured to the two of you, pointing to the front of the coaster. “Alright, the two of you get row 1.”

You squealed happily. “Oh yeah, this one is especially great in the front row because you can see the giant drop before you start going!”

Iida’s smile lessened. “Sounds… great.”

You sat down, Iida taking the seat next to you. You pulled down your restraints, locking yourself into place. “Just pull it down over your head,” you said. “They’ll come and double check you’re strapped in.”

He did as told, and after a quick check, you heard the main operator give the all clear.

“Have fun, folks,” she called. “And enjoy the 300 foot drop!”

“The WHAT?” Iida cried, nervously looking around. You put a hand on his leg.

“It’ll be fun,” you reassured. “Don’t worry.”

The car began to climb up the hill slowly, chains rattling as you were pulled higher and higher into the air. You could see the entire park, and you made sure to note the locations of the other popular coasters.

Meanwhile, Tenya looked around helplessly.

You heard the pull chain stop, and looked down at the massive drop dead ahead. “Alright, now be sure to pose for the camera. It’ll be at the middle of the drop!” you yelled.

Tenya didn’t have time to respond, the car roaring down the hill. You felt your butt leave the seat, and whooped excitedly. You managed to throw up a peace sign as you passed the camera.

You turned towards Iida as the car squealed up the first loop. His eyes were wide, and he gripped the sides of his glasses to keep them from flying off his face. Despite this, he had a large smile on his face.

“See! It’s fun!” You yelled. “It’s like using your quirk but you get to go upside down and stuff!”

His shoulders relaxed when the coaster slowed at a plateau, preparing for another massive drop. “You were right, these are exhilarating!” he yelled back to you.

His voice quaked with nervousness, but he was buzzing with excitement.

When the coaster finally pulled back into the station, he was smiling widely, clapping. You’d never seen him so relaxed before. “I see what all the commotion is about!”

“I told you!”

You wasted no time in leading him to all the best rides in the park, and by the end of the day your brains felt like scrambled eggs, but your adrenaline and excitement were unmatched. “We need to get souvenirs!” you said, gesturing to a shop beside the coaster you just rode. He nodded.

“Of course! I’ll pay for them!”

Normally, you would argue, but you decided to let it go. Afterall, he was rich.

You walked in, perusing the different shirts and hoodies they had. You spotted one you liked and grabbed two of them. “Here,” you said. “We can match!”

You set them on the counter and smiled at the employee. She smiled back. “D’aww. Matching shirts. Cute.”

Iida swiped his credit card.

She bagged the two shirts, handing them to you. She leaned in close. “Girl, he’s a keeper. These are overpriced as hell.”

You blushed. “Oh, umm, we…” you decided to simply smile and nod.

You and him exited the store, and you immediately threw on the shirt, telling him to do the same. “C’mon,” you said. “We gotta take a picture and post it. Let our friends know that I actually got you to ride a roller coaster.”

You pulled out your phone, smiling widely as you threw up a peace sign. Iida did the same. “Say cheese,” you said, snapping the picture.

You posted it to Instagram with the caption, ‘A fun day with the prez. P.s. @Denkichu I told you he’d enjoy it!’

You slid your phone back into your pocket, looking towards Tenya. “The park is almost closed so we should probably head towards the entrance.”

You noticed he was looking around in awe. “Wow,” he muttered. He clutched his shirt. “Have you ever felt like this before? I feel so happy. This has been the most I’ve smiled in a long time.”

You gave him a nudge. “I know. You’ve been smiling all day. You can always come here again, as often as you want, if you enjoy it. Maybe you can take some of our other friends along. I’m sure they’d be in shock at how much you like it here.”

He shook his head, turning towards you. “I don’t think it’s just this park. Being here with you is what really makes me smile.”

You clutched your chest. “Aww, you make me smile, too. That’s what friends are for!”

He suddenly looked away. “Yes. Right. Of course.”

You grabbed his arm. “Hey. You okay?”

He moved to grab your hand, pulling you towards the first roller coaster you rode. “Let’s ride this again. I need to tell you something before we leave here.”

You shrugged. “Alright.”

It didn’t take long for you to be off, creeping up the giant hill. This time, you could see the night sky, lights of the park shining below you. You were tempted to pull out your phone to take a picture but decided against it.

You looked towards Tenya. “Alright, so what did you want to tell me? Quickly, before we drop 300 feet and I start screaming.”

He gulped. “Well, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I appreciate you dearly. You’re a wonderful friend, and…”

The drop drew ever closer.

“I’m flattered,” you said. “But maybe get to the point a little faster…”

He clutched his eyes shut as the car stopped, starting to tip over the edge. “I think I’m in love with you!”

Your eyes widened, and the car careened downwards.

“Tenya!” you screamed over the sounds of the track. “Did you just say ‘I’m in love with you’!?” You couldn’t be sure.

“Yes!” he yelled, gripping onto his restraints as he dangled upside down. You noticed his glasses slipping off and clutched the sides of his face to keep them steady. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything but this trip made me realize it! I believe that telling you is the best thing to do! I understand if you don’t reciprocate my feelings!”

The second drop was quickly approaching, and as the car slowed, you smiled at him. You brought his face closer to you. “Don’t be stupid, Tenya!” you said. “Of course I reciprocate your feelings, you nerd!”

He placed his hands atop yours. The car dropped, speeding down the second drop. “Do I have your permission to kiss you!” he yelled.

“Yes! Hurry up before we pull back into the station and get kicked out for PDA!”

With that, he closed the gap.

You pulled away from him just as you slid to a stop. Your cheeks were burning, and your adrenaline was pumping wildly through your veins. That was the most heart-racing thing you’d ever done.

You cleared your throat as you pulled back into the station. Quickly releasing your restraints and hopping out of the car, you dragged him out of the coaster and back onto the main walkway.

“For such a formal person,” you quipped, leaning against his shoulder. “That was quite the confession.”

“Well,” he responded, fixing his glasses awkwardly. “You’re quite the person to confess to.”

You smiled softly, pecking him on the cheek. “Let’s get outta here. We still have time to get ice cream tonight.”

He nodded, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Of course. Anywhere you want to go, I’ll go with you.”

[fbfh]

light up the dark [VI] - leo x reader

genre: mid adventure domestic fluff overture, romance, smutty lemony bit towards the end

word count: 3k

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: very much so, yes

warnings: magic manipulation powers, feelings are hard and weird and scary, some innuendos, the phrase hot gusher out of context, the word dirty talk, trying to "proposition [someone] in front of two for one cookie crisp", brief credit card theft, jason thinks ketchup is spicy and gets clowned on for it, one use of the word lube in reference to mechanical lubricant, shirtless leo remember that one piece of shirtless leo viria art?????? remember the caption?????, your facade is beginning to crack, deadpan joke about being dead in space, making out, whole lotta sexual tension, brief mention of a boner, teeny tiny bit of grinding, getting interrupted, c*lypso

summary: after an extensive shopping trip, you, Leo, and Jason settle into your airbnb and wait for the others to arrive. Jason takes a nap, and Leo helps you dye your hair. You return the favor by helping him make dinner which leads to two things; a well timed boner, and a poorly timed visitor.

listen to: power and control - marina, 100 bad days - ajr, all I ask - adele

a/n: let's play spot the zack and cody reference within the first paragraph

also surprise the series isn't dead!! a shock to all but mostly me!!

as with all smexy smutty nsfw content, all characters are aged up to 18+

Standing in front of a wall of hair dye taller than you are should have been exciting. It would have been, except for the fact that all the colors were various shades of honey mist auburn. You really don’t want to have to make a separate trip to a beauty store for hair dye. Your eyes land on a firetruck red box, and gratefully, you realize you won’t have to.

“Perfect,” you muse, throwing it into your cart, along with the other stuff on the list you’d divided between you. You grab a few other things from the beauty section while you’re there; some makeup, eyeliner, a glass nail file, and a tiny pair of oil slick cuticle scissors.

Nearby is a guy a little older than you in a varsity hoodie and sweatpants squinting at a two in one shampoo label.

Perfect, you think, beginning to approach. You work your magic - literally - and within a few minutes you have his credit card. It takes way less time than it used to. You also didn’t have to smile and flirt nearly as much as you used to. You’re relieved that you don’t have to fake enthusiasm around rich douchebags the way you used to, and a new inky drop of fear begins to stain the corners of your mind. You can’t even bear to admit it to yourself, but you’re kind of scared. Before you can begin to question if you know what love is and if you’re capable of experiencing it without the influence of your divine heritage, you shove it all away. Not the place, not the time. You speed up a little, passing an endcap of candy, and knock a box into your cart.

On the other side of the store, Jason checks off items from their half of the list as Leo tosses items in the cart, talking along the way. Of course, you came up in conversation rather quickly.

“She’s… a real piece of work.” Jason says, treading lightly.

“You said it, man,” Leo agrees, sliding a pack of coke onto the bottom of the cart. Jason thinks for a moment before continuing.

“She seems to,” he tries to figure out how to phrase their dynamic, “not hate you as much as everyone else.” Leo laughs at the accuracy of the statement. He can tell Jason has something else to say, so he’s quiet while putting paper plates and napkins into the cart.

“Hey, Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“Just… don’t let her hurt you, okay?”

He stops for a second. He’s so lucky to have a friend like Jason, one that will genuinely look out for him, but sometimes people caring for him still catches him off guard. Really off guard. With no idea how to begin to verbalize that complicated mess, he takes a split second to collect himself.

“Thanks, man.”

His smile is sincere.

Don’t let her hurt you. Can he just do that? Not let someone hurt him? Especially someone like you. He’s only had a few long term crushes before, all just out of reach and only getting further away. Only one had amounted to something - not that he could call what he had with Calypso ‘something’. She certainly wouldn’t. He looks around, trying to shake off the sting. He starts to get that unsettled, itchy feeling when he focuses on stuff like that for too long.

‘At least I got some good stories out of it,’ he thinks, messing with the back of his hair and fixing his hoodie strings.

“Here.”

He turns around, coming face to face with you, holding out a box very close to him.

“Hot gusher.” You say softly. What? His cheeks heat up, pulse speeding up suddenly. He glances at Jason, who’s at the other end of the aisle asking an employee something. Are you implying something? Are you trying to proposition him in front of two for one cookie crisp? He’s unable to look away from your gaze, intense and striking. You couldn’t possibly mean what he thinks you mean. Your fingers brush and he’s struggling to find an elegant way to say ‘hey, maybe the grocery store isn’t an ideal place for dirty talk’.

“W- uh, sorry, what?” he says, laughing in an equally hushed tone, needing to make sure you meant what he thought you did. You glance down, then back up.

“They’re spicy gushers. I thought you’d like them.” the feeling is gone in a split second, the same time it took to arrive, and is replaced with relief. He looks down at the box, realizing he’d taken it from you at some point. He laughs at the ridiculousness of his previous panic.

“Thanks,” he says, a reflective smile on his face.

You realize how comforted you are to see him smile, really smile, when you catch yourself having to keep a neutral face. One of the first times your resting bitch face has been intentional. Before you can say you’re welcome, Jason comes back over. You hand him the card.

“Pin number’s 0401.”

They both stare at you, skimming the label of a granola bar, completely unperturbed.

“How…”

“Credit card theft.”

The logical part of Leo’s brain starts to speak up, telling him to raise his guard, that his stomach should be twisting. If you can just take someone’s credit card without a hint of remorse, who knows what the hell kind of damage you could do to him if he got closer to you? And he really wants to get closer to you.

“Oh,” you pull a small pop top tube out of your cart and hand it to Leo, “this is for you too. You know, since you don’t like coffee,” you trail off as he reads the label. Caffeine and electrolyte drink tablets, red berry rampage flavor. He looks up at you, feeling warm and… something else, something ineffable, at the gesture.

You stare at each other, eyes locked, surprised at the strangely intimate feeling stirring in both of you.

“What are those?” Jason asks, snapping you out of whatever that was.

“Spicy gushers,” Leo says, smiling again, “I didn’t even know they made those.”

“Hot mango,” Jason reads from the side of the box, “that actually sounds pretty good.”

“No way dude, you can’t handle spicy food.” He starts to protest, and Leo continues, “You think ketchup is spicy!” He looks shocked.

“Okay, that was one time! It was a weird brand and there was way too much pepper in it!”

You bite back a giggle at their bickering, taking note of how much better Leo seems to be doing and finding surprising comfort in their banter.

It doesn’t take long to get to the airbnb and get set up. You all dump your bags in your rooms, bring in the groceries, and shove everything into the cabinets in a reasonably organized manner.

Jason heads upstairs to unpack and call Piper, announcing a few minutes later that they should be here in less than two hours.

“Perfect,” you pull out your hair dye from the last bag. It’s not exactly the manic panic wildfire red you’d initially wanted, but it’s definitely better than nothing. You stare at the box for a second, then up at Leo who’s trying to get one more bag of chips to fit in with the others.

“Hey,” you say, just loud enough to get his attention, “do you… can you get the back of my head?” He looks at you, questioning, and you hold up the box dye. He smiles, once again noting your softened edges around him.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and minutes later you’re in the bathroom, adorned in a big tee shirt covered in all your previous hair colors. He’s staring at your shirt, eyes dancing over the swirls and splatters of color. It reminds him of a painting he’d seen once, unable to remember the name.

You shake the bottle, skimming the instructions again, then start speaking to him, eyes still on the box.

“Take a section of hair, about this much,” you demonstrate, holding out a section of hair, “rub in the dye like this…”

You hand him the second bottle of red dye, and he starts on the back. His fingertips start separating out a section of your hair, and you still, a shiver running up your spine. He hesitates for a moment, then continues, and you hope he hadn’t noticed. His breath fans your ear, and you can feel the heat radiating off his chest. Your lungs are shallow suddenly, squeezed tight like a bouquet clutched in a shaking hand. You find it almost impossible to focus on dying the front half of your hair.

You don’t want it to stop, you realize. His fingertips dancing along your hair, the glimpses of his incredibly focused face in the bathroom mirror, the way he’ll gently turn your head to make sure he didn’t miss a spot.

“Shit,” he leans back, hunching forward. You look behind you, eyes landing immediately on the spot of red dye on his shirt.

“Shit,” you echo. He looks back at you, waiting to see how he’ll react.

“Oh, it’s all good - no worries. I already have a ton of motor oil and lube - lubricant… machine grade, petroleum based engine lubricant-” he laughs, “stains on this shirt anyway. Don’t sweat it.”

You almost laugh. A giggle bubbles up from your chest and stomach, but catches in your throat. Before it can come out, he slips off his dye stained gloves, and tugs off his dye stained shirt from the back. It seems to happen in slow motion. In a mere moment, your eyes engraving every detail, every line and curve and freckle to memory.

There’s really no delicate way to put it; he’s fucking jacked. Deceptively so. You’re frozen in place, cheeks flushed. You suddenly wonder what it would be like to be wrapped up in his arms, held so close to him.

You snap yourself out of the thought, all of that occurring in just a few seconds. He leans past you, setting the dye stained shirt carefully on the counter, glancing at you intensely.

“Are you checking me out?”

You make yourself roll your eyes and turn away, replying, “I’m sure you’d love that.”

Angled away from him, you momentarily reprimand yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and mouthing oh my god. You turn back to him, not recalling the last time you had to deliberately keep up your aloof front around someone like this.

“So, are we finishing my hair or just gonna leave it like this?” you ask rhetorically, motioning to your half done hair.

He watches you do this, confirming his suspicion that you’re really not as cold as you let on. A smile blooms on his face, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything as… cute as that.

“Yeah,” he replies, slipping his gloves back on. The things you do around him seem to mean more now. He notices the way your eyes flutter closed for a moment when he plays with your hair, working in the dye, or the way you still for a split second when he gets a little too close to the side of your face, checking that he didn’t miss a spot.

He doesn’t want this to end either. But eventually, your hair is fully saturated with dye, the timer on your phone counting down slowly. There’s still some dye left. He sits on the closed toilet.

“Your turn. Do me.”

“What?” you laugh.

“Yeah, a little streak - up here.” He leans forward, sectioning off a part of his hair.

“Seriously?” you ask.

“Yeah. Unless you don’t want to match…” he muses. Your eyes get this dreamy look for the briefest second, then you’re turning back to shake the bottle some more.

“I guess… I mean there’s too much dye to throw out, we might as well do something with it.”

It’s his turn, now, to feel the warmth from your body, your hands running through his hair. His eyes want to close, and bask in the feeling, but he refuses to miss out on the view of you so soft, so close to him. It doesn’t last nearly long enough for either of you, and much too soon you’re pulling away and throwing away the gloves and empty bottles.

By the time you finish cleaning up and throw out the garbage, it’s time to rinse your hair. Hanging your head over the tub, you let the water flow over your head until Leo tells you it’s running clear. He does the same, and you point out too late that he only had to rinse the dyed part, not his whole head.

You both laugh as you wrap a towel around your hair, teaching him how to do the same.

“Sweet, I’ve always wondered how to do the spa snail towel thing.”

“The spa snail towel thing?” You try in vain to fight another laugh.

“Yeah, you know… cause it looks like a snail, and they do it at spas…”

“Oh… my gods…” you laugh, exiting the bathroom and heading down the hall, “I”m going to get changed.” you call.

“Am I wrong?” he asks after you, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He heads to his room to do the same.

A few minutes later, you’re carefully pulling on your top, when he calls through your door.

“Hey, I’m gonna be in the kitchen, come down when you’re ready.”

“...Okay,” you agree.

You check your outfit in the mirror. You can still feel his fingers brushing your neck. Your head tilts at the memory. Snapshots of him pulling off his shirt in slow motion flash in your memory.

You realize how much of an affect the last hour has had on you. Your stomach drops.

You can’t possibly be falling in love. No way. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

You’re not the falling in love type. At most, you’d hook up with someone a couple times on the rare occasion you thought they were hot, too.

Oh, you decide, that must be what’s happening. I just think he’s hot. I mean, duh. Of course he’s hot. Did you see him in there?

That’s all you have to do; hook up with him once, maybe twice, then you’ll get over it. It’ll make his ex jealous, and they’ll get back together. It will go just like it always has. Then you can move on to whatever the next crisis is.

You take a breath, resolving to follow the plan, exit your room. You throw yours and Leo’s old clothes and towels in the hamper, and head down stairs. He greets you, and pulls you into the kitchen.

“I have something to ask you.” Your brow furrows.

“...Okay.”

He takes your hand in his, the other behind his back.

“Will you…” he looks at you, gaze piercing, “...be my sous-chef.” he finishes, holding out an apron, matching his.

You study him, a hopeful, surprisingly confident look on his face. His hair is still damp. You’re sure yours is, too. You wait a beat, before replying slowly.

“Yes. But I’m not wearing that.”

“That’s fair,” he says, setting the apron on the counter, “I will have to dock your pay for being out of uniform, though.” You let out a puff of air from your nose, biting back a laugh. He pulls out a skillet, bowl, and oil, and begins preheating the pan. You watch him pull out more ingredients, and begin to set things up.

“Right now we’re waiting on that,” he says nodding at the stove. You nod, inspecting a bottle of seasoning he’d pulled out, and settle into a comfortable silence.

He thinks back to the last time you had time like this - playing twenty questions at your apartment. A pit forms in his stomach as he remembers the conversation veering to Calypso, as it always seemed to. He shoves it away. Not this time. He steadies his nerves. “So, you want to play twenty questions?”

You agree, coming closer to him.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

Your eyes flick over to the clock. You have a solid hour, hour and a half before the others are supposed to get here. You stare at him, brushing hair out of his face.

“I’d be dead in the endless void of deep space.”

He cracks a smile at how on brand that response was. Your fingertips trail down to his neck, rethen shoulder. The smile doesn’t leave his face, not completely. Your heart beats loudly in anticipation.

“My turn. Do you want to make out?”

His head snaps up, eyes locked with yours, trying to tell if you’re serious or if this is another example of your distinct sense of humor. But he can tell it’s not - there’s something a little too close to the surface in your eyes.

“Yeah. Yes, totally-”

You grab his collar, pulling him in for a kiss, and leaning back against the empty counter.

His lips are soft and warm, moving gracefully with yours. You barely register that the first kiss ends before you dive back in. You angle your head, deepening the kiss. He plants one hand on the counter, the other making its way to the small of your back. You flick your tongue past his lips, and his grip on your waist tightens. You clutch his collar tighter, other hand moving through his hair, still damp at the ends.

You can tell he’s enjoying what you do by the way his mouth quirks up ever so slightly at the corners, and by the way he starts to harden beneath you. You roll your hips into his, and he falters, sighing, breath fanning your lips. Not quite a moan, but you’re getting there.

The front door opens before you can.

Leo pulls away reluctantly, very reluctantly, and turns off the stove.

“That was fast,” he says, panting slightly and still very flushed. They’re not supposed to be here for a while, still.

A tall girl enters the kitchen, dark strawberry blonde hair pulled over her shoulder. She looks between you and Leo with a sour expression on her face.

“Calypso,” Leo says.

"...Hi."

[omiscurls]

for eternity and one day more

sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader soulmate au (the last words your soulmate will ever say to you are written somewhere on your body)  content warning: general angst, major character death, mentions of funeral, car crash, hospital

you wish you could’ve said tears made your vision blurry. but after all these days, your eyes were perfectly dry, no little rivers were streaming down your puffed cheeks, and you were forced to stare directly at your wrist, and the words tattooed there by some idiotic magic. some cursed, freaky foolery that made you rethink your life the past two days at least ten times, searching for even one mistake, for even one moment you could feel something wasn’t right. 

but to your dismay, there was nothing. everything in your life fell to pieces so perfectly, as if you were the princess in a dream of every five year old girl in the world, only now could you realize, it was all too good to be true. well, except one part. 

the words stared back at you, burning into your flesh, your glance holding them into place, as if they were to disappear if you did as much as blink. 

“and one day more”, the tattoo said, directly and clear, never changing tint painted your skin black, no matter how desperately you wanted the letters to shift into something else. you wished to be hated right now. you wished for it to be an insult, and yet, the words remained as cheesy and painfully romantic as the first day you saw them. 

so he wasn’t your soulmate after all. 

all these years, never once had you doubted that. since the moment atsumu introduced him to you, since the moment he said “oh and i guess this is omi-kun, but it’s not like you’re gonna have a conversation wi—”

and since the moment he interrupted. 

“i am perfectly capable of introducing myself, miya.” since the moment he glared at him, fingers constantly running through his hair, all messy from practice, by which he was visibly annoyed. 

“hate to break it to you, but my actual prefered name is a bit more mundane than that cursed nickname” 

“hey, i came up with that! it’s not cursed!” atsumu pouted, half mockingly, half serious, 

“precisely” he mumbled, making the setter narrow his eyebrows even more, before huffing and proceeding to leave, “i’ll be coming back to practice. it was so nice of you to come! just yell at me if you want me to rescue you” he winked, and soon was gone. 

“so? are you actually going to tell me your name?” you asked, one eyebrow raised, as his eyes focused back on you.

“please, like you don’t know” he chuckled, internally surprised with himself that somehow, his usual anxiety and disgust wasn’t kicking in, instead he felt relaxed and in place when talking to you, even if it was no more than thirty second since you met each other. 

“oh, so you consider yourself a celebrity, huh?” you laughed, causing him to shake his head. 

for a second he didn’t respond. you were starting to feel startled with the way he started at your smiling lips, but then he blinked finally, and answered. 

“i have places to be and balls to spike, smiles. let’s just say...”

and that, that was the precise moment since which you knew. since the one line he said before running off, a smug smile you should never be able to see, and yet you did. you were sure and certain. this was your soulmate. 

“... i only share that information with people i actually like”.

“sure you do, omi-kun!” 

since that moment, your heart began to settle and as much as you pushed that thought away, saying that you were too young to know, and after all you just exchanged a couple of truly meaningless sentences with him, you couldn’t deny the fact that you knew. knew for a fact, that you’ve found your own person. 

it was so random and sudden, so casual, countless evenings did you stare at your mirror and let your mind wonder, trying to find answers as to why you were feeling so strongly so fast. it was uncharachteristic of you, even if you were ever in love, you didn’t believe it could happen on such first sight, and yet there you were. was it the magic your parents always told you about? the one so inexplicable that they always stated that “you just have to feel it”, and “you’ll know when it comes”?

you thought it was just your lonely brain pulling tricks on you, until that one night you decided to hang out with the MSBY team, and went to tsumu’s apartment, waiting for hinata, meian and sakusa along with tsumu and bokuto. 

you didn’t pay much attention to their talk, it was mostly plans for the upcoming season, until they shifted the subject. 

“hey, did you ever read what was on omi’s wrist? he never covered it, but maybe that’s why i didn’t pay attention” the blonde wondered, his fingers playing with the edge of his glass. bokuto shook his head. 

“no, i think it’s too personal to check. why’re you curious? you hope you’re his soulmate or what?” he laughed in his usual, loud way, and the word “soulmate” called for your attention. 

“no you weirdo, it’s just he started covering it recently, and i just wonder, did he meet his other half?” 

“my ma’ always said that there’re no other halfs, because you’re a person on your own”

“yeah yeah, cute, but not the point here, bokuto” atsumu sighed. “and he didn’t even tell me... bastard.”

there was comfortable silence between the three of you for a few brief seconds, before the blond setter started the topic again:

“hey, you’re oddly quiet, where’s your tattoo located?” he asked with genuine curiosity in his eyes, as you glared at your wrist, covered loosely with the bracelet you wore over it ever since you got the tattoo, it being something so intimate you didn’t want to share it with the entire world at once, concealers didn’t work on the ridiculously black tint, and the bracelet made it harder to read. 

“you didn’t notice? thought you were observant?” you teased, making atsumu roll his eyes and take your hand into his, pushing the piece of jewelery away to read the caption. 

“it’s on your wrist too? awh, maybe you’re omi’s soulmate!” he exclaimed looking at the writing from every angle possible. 

“what’s written on there?” bokuto asked, not wanting to shift from his seat across the table. 

“oh, it’s and—”

“we’re here!” hinata yelled at the same moment, giving you an opportunity to move your hand back. 

and so it stayed a mistery. 

you shifted onto the bed you shared, still messy after you both woke up those couple of days ago, earlier than you were supposed to, because of a text he got from his mother. a text that set him off for the entire day and finally caused everything that happened next. 

your heart couldn’t stay still when you put your head over the pillow, the familiar scent of the other side of the mattrace hitting you no matter how hard you tried to hold your breath. 

you noticed a small package laying on a nightstand next to your fiance’s side, and you went over to grab it, eyes getting hot when you realized what it was. 

a set of band aids. 

omi wore band aids on his wrist for as long as you could remember, but according to atsumu, he only started wearing those after meeting you. they were always on the inner side of his wrist, and after a while putting them on was his routine, it grew on him so much he didn’t even really think about it - just bought a pack once a week and put it on 2 times a day, for it to stay hygenic. didn’t make it a big deal or anything, but if you asked, he’d turn really gloomy, while also trying not to worry you too much. 

“hey, weirdo, let me see what’s under that band aid. you of all people should know that if you get a cut, you can’t have it covered all the time, it won’t heal like this” you muttered against the couch you were laying on, gently grabbing his hand by the little finger, only for him to jerk it away, not even moving his gaze from the book he was reading. 

“it’s not a cut” he just mumbled, eyes following the printed letters in utter focus. 

“then why do you cover it?”

“i don’t want you to see it” he explained straight away, in the blunt way he always would, not finding any reason to keep it away from you.

“why?” you asked sincerely, apparently enough to bring his eyes away from the book. he reached out to grab the tips of your fingers into his and slowly rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand, a soft smile wondering on his face but never actually reaching to lift up the corners of his lips. 

you couldn’t help but grin a bit yourself, making him raise an eyebrow. 

“quit smiling at me, i can’t stop messing up what i’m saying if you look at me like that” 

you giggled. 

“like what?” 

“nevermind, dummy. just... don’t worry about it. just trust me and don’t check, okay?” he pulled your hand to his chest so you’d come and sit beside him in the armchair. you curled up against his chest, hair still wet from the shower damping his t-shirt, enjoying the smell of his perfume and the delicate, intimate aura of the moment, even though curiousity wouldn’t let you out of its hold. 

“is it your soulmate mark?” you asked, remembering the conversation between you and atsumu, about how he started to cover it. 

“thought i told you not to worry, didn’t i darling? can i trust you that you won’t check?” he mumbled against your hair, and let out a breath when you nodded. he trusted you wouldn’t, and you didn’t.

although now you wish you did. 

“what’re we reading?” your sleepy voice ended the silence in your living room after a while, your eyes too tired to see for themselves. sakusa shifted and relaxed in his position, taking a breath before he started telling. 

“it’s called the orange girl. it’s a story of a boy reading letters from his dead dad, who wrote them while terminally sick, about a love story he shared with a girl, whom he met on the tram, she got his attention because she was holding a basket of oranges. she then disappears and shows up at random places at random times, acknowledging him but never actually talking, and they continue this hide and seek until she gives him a riddle, which he solves. they can’t be together for long, since he’s sick, but they had to, since their love was so true they couldn’t stay away from each other without falling into pieces. they were like the glue holding each other together, the mistery being the only shared link they had for a long time” he kept lowering his voice as he felt your head growing heavier and heavier against his chest, to the point he practically whispered. 

“that’s... sad” you mumbled, half passed out, and he tried so hard to surpress his laugh, so it doesn’t bring you out of your blissfull state. 

“i don’t think it is, no. see, they didn’t have much time with each other, but that was enough for them, they cherished every moment and would much rather spend so little together than eternities alone. no matter how long she’ll have to spend alone before meeting him again, she’ll love him forever, and so will he, even though he’s not physically there, i think it’s poethic.” he stated, getting hair out of your face, gently leaning forward to put the book down. 

“just as i’ll love you.” he added, now thinking you were asleep completely “even if you’ll hate me. come on, big baby, let’s get you to sleep” 

come to think of it, he always said he’ll love you forever. never an eternity, always forever. in his proposal, it was “always and for always” and whenever you fought and made up it was “for as long as the sun shines in the morning”

never an eternity. 

it’s not like it was something bad, he could be really a master of his words if he wanted to, and if he ever used that one, you’d obviously get scared and tell him to quickly say something else, not to tease fate too much, but he never did. 

as if he knew. 

you wanted to show him just as much you respected him and his privacy after that night, scared by the last sentence he said, and thought you didn’t hear, and made it your goal to find a new set of band aids for the both of you. it was often “look, omi! i found ones with elza, from frozen! she reminds me of you, so here. take these” 

“excuse me? if i get elsa, you get swen”

“why the hell would i get swen?”

or that time when for your anniversary you had ones custom made with some of his favorite song quotes. it was an inside joke, not much of a joke but much of an inside between the two of you, that always put a smile on your faces while still reminding you that before love, before passion and before even friendship, there was always trust and respect between the two of you. 

and that reminder was often needed. 

he could be a sappy romantic, at times, but it was still the sakusa kiyoomi you met that first day, still a blunt jerk, accents on jerk, still closed off, still a bit egoistic and cold at times. you two had similar tempers, and it often resulted in fights. very often. 

you loved his fierce attitude, you adored his honesty. appreciated the straight forward notices when he didn’t like something you did, and liked the way he always spoke what was on his mind when around you. but sometimes what was on his mind didn’t exactly cover what you wanted to hear. 

as you put away the box of band aids, your hand grazed over the photoframe still damaged from the one time he had to glue it back together after one fight, after he threw it on the ground to let out his anger in some way. 

you yelled at him for your fair share of over twenty minutes, and only when your voice started to get sore, did he start talking, but whenever he wanted, venom could cover those sweet words he’d so often whisper, as if his sentences were sharp enough to cut through glass. 

“why can’t you just let someone care about you?” you’d shout, voice cracking at the end, causing you to put a hand over your throat, realizing it’s time to stop talking. 

“because you won’t understand! you’ll never understand! that’s the thing, y/n, you may try as hard as you want to, but in the end, you’re too—” he’d manage to bite his tongue before saying something he didn’t mean, and yet your eyes widened. 

“too what? too stupid? too much of an idiot to mit the intelectual standards you have set? is that it?” you’d drag and tease, as every muscle in his body would tense up, fists curling as he’d take the frame and smash it onto the ground, soon realizing how much of an overreaction that was, but not just yet. 

“stop putting words in my mouth! i never said you were stupid, for fucks sake—” 

the door closing behind you would wake him up from his thoughts, as he whispered a quiet “fuck” under his breath, and go after you. 

nevertheless you’d never leave, you always went to the bathroom, put some water in your face, take a few deep breaths, and by the time you were ready to go face him, he’d already have calmed down and would be ready to talk, apologize if it was his fault, forgive if it wasn’t. 

cause after all, you were soulmates. 

you were meant to be with each other. you wouldn’t survive with each other. two puzzles of the same picture, fitting perfectly, and not with anything else. 

right?

he’d mutter the lyrics to can’t help falling in love while he’d occasionally do your hair, he’d come behind you while you were cooking and rest his chin on your shoulder. leave notes in your lunch. 

he was the most thougtful person you ever met. the most precise in his actions, most affectionate in what he was capable of doing for you, most selfless in giving his all into bringing a smile on your face. 

one night, he came home from practice, and there was just something so weird about him, you remembered, about the way he smiled almost like he was fifteen again, all excited and hyped. 

you lifted yourself up from the bed, finding it hard to move, since the ache in your heart was roaming throughout your entire body,leaving you tired and defenseless. however you managed to get to the dresser, and search for one through your shirts. 

“so, you know how i’m not the biggest fan of merch, right?” he said, his eyes lit up as he turned around to grab a nicely wrapped, loose gift from his bag. 

“i know? you don’t understand the hype people get from wearing things that have your surname on it, you’ve told me countless times”

“yes, but—”

“you’ve also told me that doing figurines of living real people is somewhat creepy”

“yeah, that too—”

“and that the plushie they made with you scares the living shit out of—”

“i know! i know! but listen” he’d say, handing you the package. as you began opening it carefully, he continued “you know that because of privacy policy they can’t make the merch jerseys the exact same as the real ones? the merch has the surname and number smaller by 2 centimeters, and the space between each letter is wider by exactly a half of a centimeter. and since we’re redoing the shirts with a slightly different design, i ordered—”

“you ordered one more for me” you whispered as you held the soft material in your hands, the paper laying somewhere on the ground, by your feet. 

“i ordered one more for you.” he finished, scratching his neck in a nervous gesture “i know that i’m not the best boyfriend—”

“fiance” you corrected. 

“fiance, when it comes to letting you wearing my things, so i hope this makes up for it in a way?” he suddenly flinched as if he remembered something right in that moment “oh, and...” he reached to his bag again “these are my perfumes. if... oh my god, this is so pathethic, why was i so—”

you took the bottle out of his hand, and, since he didn’t like to hug right after coming home, you gave him the brightest smile you could. 

“it’s perfect. you’re perfect.” you muttered, hand moving upwards to ruffle his hair and mess with him just a little bit “come on, go clean up, dinner’s almost ready”

would it be a violation of your agreement if you just wore his shirt now? it’s not like he’d come check. you didn’t need your own-his shirt right now. you didn’t need to have “the one original that no fan will ever have”, you didn’t give a fuck about those 2 and a half centimeters of difference that meant so much to you. 

you hastened to open the bottom drawer, and then, folded nicer than your version, was the real, real sakusa kiyoomi number 15 MSBY shirt, the one and only, a little harsh from being used and washed a lot, but right now, there was no softer fabric in the world. 

you hid your head in the folds of the jersey, begging for the tears that you knew damn well were building up to finally come out. 

“you idiot” you whispered, “you idiot, you idiot, you fucking idiot!” louder and angrier every time you began wailing, the black material being the only thing covering your screams. “why’re you always so stupid? so... so fucking precise? couldn’t you spend one night, one night without me? one night in anger? you’d still be— you absolute, fucking idiot, sakusa!” 

only anger and frustration came to your heart as you recalled all the things he did with you. 

all the dances to classical waltzes at three in the morning in the small light over your oven. 

your walks with his dog, faces white and noses red from the winter cold. 

all the events you’d go to along with him, when he’d dress up all pretty and would ask you to do his tie, even if he was the master of the art himself. 

the time he actually taught you how to tie a tie, while you were both drunk talking in your bedroom after a college party. 

all the things he did for you. the good morning forehead kisses, the cups of hot tea with the exact amount of additions you liked, the way he always wrapped your scarf a little bit tighter around your neck, the way he’d remind you to wash your face if you were too tired to motivate yourself to get up and do it. 

why would he do all those things with such ease, how did he memorise every single line of your character, every single habit you ever developed, if he

wasn’t your soulmate?

your sharp breath began to even out after a while, as you recalled the most recent events. 

he was very set off that morning. his mother, who he hated with all the hatred available in his heart, texted him something about an alledged family dinner he had to go to that evening. 

the text woke you up at six in the morning on a saturday, not making a great start to a day full of nerves. ever since that text, he’d been more irritable and annoyed than the usual. he didn’t finish his morning coffee, he got splashed with rainwater by a car while on his run, everything was wrong. 

everything was wrong. 

you left the stage of your relationship where you were afraid of making each other mad long behind you, and yet you were kinda afraid to ask for the basic things that day. like, what did his mother text him? why did it annoy him that much?

you didn’t know that at the time, but what woke him up wasn’t a text, it was a burning feeling under his band aid. he lifted it, noticing you were still sound asleep and looked at the writing. nothing had changed, but it was burning hot, and didn’t allow him to stay asleep. 

“what the hell?” he mumbled, rubbing the skin, as if that was supposed to help, but there was no result. 

“mm?” you mumbled, asleep, and he just glued it back on and laid down next to you again. 

“nothing, don’t worry about it.” 

nothing, don’t worry about it was a phrase he overused. not that he wasn’t comfortable with you, no, it was the complete opposite, but as he was raised in a very traditional way, some things were just meant to remain a secret.

it was a sort of protection he’d give you, protecting you from his dark thoughts, his mind that often didn’t listen to his commands, from himself, putting it short. 

little did he know, all you ever wanted was to see those parts of him that he kept caged from you. 

that was the one difference between the two of you that nothing could get over, but, even in a puzzle, elements have to be different in order to fit, right?

right. 

you called yourself stupid as you recalled that now. 

turns out you would fit, just... not together. but why would someone be so perfect for you, why would your heart jump out of your chest every time you saw him, if it wasn’t meant to be? why did it feel so right if it just wasn’t?

as simple as that. he wasn’t your soulmate, after all. 

that night, you got into a fight. you finally told him how many fucks you give about him wanting to protect you, how secretive he is, how dumb and idiotic, and weak it makes you feel. how you hated it. 

you glanced at the delicate ring placed on your finger, and sadly didn’t recall the moment he’d put it there with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, but the moment you almost took it off the other night, driven by emotions and stupid, selfish motives. 

if only you knew then... if only. 

you wouldn’t say “do i even truly matter to you, kiyoomi?” you wouldn’t laugh sarcastically, you wouldn’t stare at him as if he was the worst person on earth. you wouldn’t make him feel so worthless and so pathethic. 

“of course you do. that’s why i don’t want to get into it, what’s so hard to understand about that? why is so hard for you to accept, that i may just have things that i’m not gonna share with you? where is that privacy and respect you so like to talk about, huh?” 

“kiyoomi, respect for privacy is one thing, you’re just isolating yourself from me! what, did you get bored of me? did you realize i’m not fit for your fantasies anymore? is that it?” you did know you shouldn’t have said that in the first place, you knew you did it purposely and only to hurt him, but emotions have taken over your brain completely. 

“what the fuck! i know you’re just trying to make me more mad so i say something i regret, don’t think i didn’t catch up with your sick methods already, mrs smart!” he turned around to face you, a heartbroken look in his eyes, as if the trust he had for you was disappearing by the second. instant regret hit you, but that was just the deal between you two, nobody knew when to zip it and back off. 

“oh so i’m suddenly so bad, huh? so hard to deal with, is that so?” 

his face went all white, blood rushing away as he heard those words. 

“that’s right. i heard you talking with atsumu.”

“hey no, you’re taking it out of context, i would never mean it like that and you know it damn well”

“do i? do i know it damn well, kiyoomi? or do i just try to believe in something about you that just isn’t quite there?” tears appeared in the corners of your eyes as you realized it wasn’t about the text anymore. 

“no. no, no, no, no, don’t go there. you need to calm down, you’re being ridiculous!” 

“i am being ridiculous? I AM being ridiculous? you’re the one that makes me hate you right now!” you shouted, as you turned around, grabbed your keys and phone and left the apartment. 

it’s fine, he told himself, you just went over to the bathroom like you always do, but minutes and hours flew by and he realized you truly... left? he searched everywhere, and you just weren’t there. he began to panic. 

especially with his tattoo burning it’s way into his skin even more. 

it doesn’t matter where you went, it doesn’t matter for how long. what matters is when your phone finally rang from someone else than sakusa kiyoomi and you picked up, it was the worst possible call you ever got. 

he was at the hospital. 

car accident. 

drunk driver. 

it was so obvious, it was so basic, it was so... idiotically predictable. 

you obviously rushed there, obviously with fear at heart, but you didn’t fear him leaving you forever. he didn’t say his “and one day more” yet, right? he couldn’t go. 

you checked every document, talked with every doctor, with every relative already present, even dealth with his hell sent mother and overprotective sister, and dismissed every single bad news, every single “he might not make it”, every “i don’t know wether he’ll wake up, it would be a miracle.”

and when you entered the room, he did look as if he was he was one foot in his grave already. you were careful to reach out to to his forehead over all the little cables and tubes, and get his annoyingly curly locks out of his eyes. 

“why did you follow me, dumbass?” you whispered, eyes set on his closed lids. “you know i’ll always come back to you. i love you too much to leave, you know that, right? you’re aware? why did you do such a dumb thing? you’re smarter than this! we’re smarter than this!” you whined and whined, but to no response. 

his mother gently informed you that it might be time to say goodbye, but you didn’t listen, you didn’t care. it wasn’t the day he’d die. 

you stayed in his room alone for a little while, gently rubbing his hand with your thumb, mentally apologizing for being so, so difficult, and stubborn, and—  and stupid! 

you didn’t know what it meant when all the devices started beeping suddenly, you had no idea. 

but even you would recognize that line that was supposed to jump at the speed of his heart rate going straight. you’d recognize that awful beep. that deadly calm on his face.

“hey. hey, hey, hey!” you started shouting. “don’t you dare leave me yet, you idiot! we still have so much to do together, no, no, no start working! start fucking working!” you screamed at his still heart, looking at the dark screen. 

“no. no no no no no, i refuse, i won’t let you do me like that, sakusa, you hear me? you’re not allowed to—” you began panicking as you shook your fiance’s body desperately, barely managing to even move him a bit. 

“wake up, you idiot, wake up!” was the last thing you said before your words started blurring together and becoming an incoherrent mess, before the doctors got into the room, before some nurse escorted you out. 

that was the last time you’ve seen your boyfriend.  

and now you were supposed to be getting ready for the ceremony, you were supposed to act like the composed, grieving partner, his never-to-be spouse, picture perfect form of sadness, yet you couldn’t pick yourself up from the floor, where you were sobbing in the material of the damn jersey, ironically, cause he’d be so mad for it, if only he was there. 

honestly, anything would be better. any screams, silent treatment, any fight, any tears, anything. would be better than this. 

because not only were you incapable of picking yourself back up after loosing your only love, you were also painfully reminded that this man, the man that meant the whole universe to you, he wasn’t your soulmate. he was never in the plan for you. and you were so mad, at whoever was up there, at fate, at god, at whatever, you couldn’t believe it, you felt like a glitch in a system. 

he had to be your soulmate. 

and yet the last words you heard and are ever gonna hear from him were “you’re being ridiculous”. 

as you tried to get up from the floor, hands clenching around the material, you realized you have no idea what time it is. 

you had no idea where your phone was, at that. you didn’t check it in over three days, you didn’t have the nerves to read all the “oh my god, are you okay? i’m so sorry for your loss” bullshit. 

they would never understand “your loss”.

so as you finally found it somewhere in your purse, it was all out of battery. it took a while to charge it, and after you realized how little time you have until the funeral begins, you received a ton of messages all at ones, just as predicted.

you didn’t mean to go through them, you truly weren’t in the place to do so. but there was a chat that was always pinned at the top of the list. 

your eyes widened. 

1 new message from:

omi <3

your fingers and breath both shook endlessly as you pressed the highlighted font, eyes watering finally when you realized, 

it was a voice message. 

it took a while before you pressed it open. 

sounds of traffic were heard, as if someone was calling you from inside a car. “hey there, smiles, it’s me, your favorite douchebag of a boyfriend! no, without all the jokes, we all acted on impulse, didn’t we? i’m sorry for all i said. you know i am. just let me explain it to you in person, okay? i’m driving around here, but you’re nowhere to be found, and your friends don’t know anything about where you are, neither does atsumu. you can be mad at me all you want, but please come home, okay? it’s getting late. we can fight but i won’t stop worrying about you ever, i won’t ever stop caring. please, baby, please tell me where you are? you’re not picking up, so that’s why i’m leaving you a voice message...” 

your heart was beating like crazy as you listened to your boyfriend’s voice, realizing this will be the last thing you’ll ever hear him say.

“... anything is better than not knowing if you’re okay, y/n, any screaming and yelling you have planned for me, truly. i didn’t mean what i said, and neither did you. but i do mean that i will really try to be more open with you, if that’s what you want. i’ll try to make up for every mistake i’ll ever make. and remember, i’ll love you

for eternity, and one day more” 

after that, his speech was interrupted by a loud noise, him saying “what the fuck” and some sounds of metal being smashed. and after that, there was a whole minute of silence. 

a scream left your throat as you realized, 

he was your soulmate, after all, 

but you lost him forever. 

*

after you finally made it to the funeral, greeted by your friend and hugged tightly by sakusa’s sister, coldly glanced by his mother, you realized, the cascet was open. 

why the fuck. would they leave it. open?

“hey, sakusa-san?” you asked your fiance’s sister, and she turned around with a tired smile. 

“please honey, call me by my first name” she said gently, playing with your shirt, as if she had to do something with her hands. 

maybe it ran in the family. 

“why did they... why did they leave it like that?” you pointed towards where your boyfriend surely was, and her smile disappeared suddenly. 

“mother wanted it like that, honey. do you want me to help you go see him?” she grabbed your hand tightly and smiled, as much as she could, and when you nodded, she leaded the way. 

it was hard. it was very fucking hard. you wanted to run, you wanted to disappear, to not be there anymore. he looked as if he was sleeping. as if he was going to wake up any moment. you swore his eyelid twitched at one time. 

maybe you needed to do something with your hands too, because you noticed something wrong about his suit. 

“who the hell made that?” you asked while reaching over to his hand. 

“who do you think?” the woman sighed, pointing towards her mother. 

“he has his sleeves uneven. he’d hate that” you chuckled under your breath, adjusting said sleeves, when suddenly, your fingers grazed over the black ink on his writs. you looked, even though you knew you shouldn’t.

wake up, you idiot! said the writing. you let out a breathy sigh as you reached over to your purse, and glued one last “frozen” themed band aid over the tattoo. 

“you’re my eternity. and my more, too”

[radioactivechoirboy]

Where Have You Been? Ch 3

River was only slightly aware that she had knocked someone over as she rushed out the door. 

 As far as she was concerned, they could sort out the incident when she got home because when it came down to it, it was really both of their faults. Sure, she could have slowed down just a little bit, but to her knowledge, most people with anything close to common sense or human decency didn’t move in until well after noon, and it was only about 10 in the morning.

She heard her new roommate mumble some obscenity under their breath just before she was out of earshot. 

She rolled her eyes.

River couldn’t stand profanity.

In her eyes, there were roughly 171,146 in the English language; if you had to settle for one of the cheap words, then it said more about your own education and upbringing than it did about the situation at hand. 

She generally kept her thoughts on the matter to herself, but she did tend to make her roommates aware of her stance, not to police their self expression, but more to keep the peace when they all interacted. 

She had even had the idea to implement a swear jar in the common area, the change each month was put towards utilities or the rent. 

It was the best thing she had come up with, but it did mean that their old roommate Gladys did wind up paying utilities most of the time. 

River shook her head, a way to push her to clear her mind. It was a trick her therapist had come up with. Something about the physical action making the mental side all the easier. 

‘Okay, today doesn’t have to be all that hard. Let’s keep it simple and break it into steps,’ she slowed her pace to a mall walk so she could keep her thoughts straight, ‘step one: go to therapy. That’s easy enough.’ 

She took a breath and adjusted the strap of her saddle bag. It had her smaller camera, tape recorder, pencils, and three separate notebooks. One with her dreams so she could show her therapist, one for her captions for the photos she was going to take at the fair that night, and the final notebook was for her notes from therapy. 

She had gotten the idea from a man with thick rimmed glasses that she saw when she was a child.

His name was also a color.

It didn’t matter anymore, but her parents had taken her to him once a week, every week, for nearly five years. He was a nice enough man, but all he did was take a lot of notes and occasionally change her dosages of different medications, trying to solve her brain the way she had seen her brother try to solve a Rubik's cube.

Writing down where each path led, and when there was a dead-end, making a note, then trying a new combination. 

The only difference between her brain and a Rubik's cube was that he never did solve it. 

He did, however, give her the idea to start taking notes whenever she was in a meeting of any kind.

It didn’t matter if she was in book club or if she was at a doctor’s office. She had a pencil in hand and was taking note of everything. 

It helped her make sense of everything. 

Lost in her thoughts again, she almost tripped over the small step that separated the sidewalk from the office of Dr. Lamb. 

River took a deep breath and bounced on her toes for a second. It wasn’t that she was particularly nervous, but she had noticed that her brain seemed to want to wander more and more when she was worked-up; and today, between the new roommate, the sudden realization that she was the one covering the fair, and the early morning wake-up by yet another odd dream, she found herself wound tighter than a spring.

Dr. Lamb opened the door before River even got her fingers around the knob. The quick movement caused River to jump in shock, she didn’t think she had been that loud. 

To her credit, she hadn’t been, but Dr. Lamb had noted River’s history of being fifteen minutes early to every session. 

“Good morning River, how’re you doing today?” Dr. Lamb greeted the younger woman cheerfully, holding the door open for her. 

“It’s been a morning… are you sure it’s okay if we start before 10:30? I know you have other patients, and I don’t want to cut into anyone else’s session, “ River rambled on. “And I do know it’s early and I don’t want to cause you to start your day off on the wrong foot, believe me, I know how that goes,” she took a breath to continue when her therapist set a hand on her shoulder. 

“Has it been another one of those nights?” Dr. Lamb asked gently, keeping her question as open as possible. She had learned early on that if it even sounded like she was making an assumption about her young patient, she’d shut down all over again and they’d lose weeks of progress. It had happened twice since she’d taken her on.

River lead the way into Dr. Lamb’s office and made herself comfortable in one of the big, plush chairs. She carefully pulled her therapy notebook out of her bag, along with a pre-sharpened number two pencil. Once she got herself settled, she set her bag on the floor next to the chair. 

Dr. Lamb sat across from her, criss-cross applesauce, in a jumbo bean bag chair. She pulled out her flower print clipboard and pulled out a pen for her own notes. 

“Okay River, what do we want to work on today?” She adjusted her glasses and gave the girl a small smile. 

“Do you ever have weird dreams Dr. Lamb?” River crossed her ankles and looked over at her therapist, tapping the head of her eraser against her chin.

Dr. Lamb set her clipboard back down and folded her hands across her lap and smiled a big, toothy grin.

“Honey, I’ve had enough weird dreams to fill novels. Hit me with your worst,” 

River actually smiled back before bending over to pull out her notebook full of dreams.

“You can read it if you want to,” She handed the journal to Dr. Lamb, who handled the book with the same level of reverence people reserve for family bibles. 

She thumbed through the pages and read passages here and there, ghosting her finger over the lines to keep track. She noticed the pattern quickly, but was careful to keep her emotions fairly neutral.

The last thing she wanted was to make the girl aware of how upset the passages made her. 

“You know, these remind me of something that happened back when I was just a little younger than you,” Dr. Lamb handed the book back to River before continuing, “ Back before you were born, there was a bit of an accident at the fair, you know that?” 

River nodded, tucking her journal back in her bag. 

“What do you know about what happened?” She asked the younger girl, still not bothering to pick up her clipboard from where she set it earlier.

“I know that one of the rides malfunctioned and some people died and I know it happened on my birthday,” she trailed off for a second, her eyes focusing on something behind her therapist’s head.

Her thoughts began to fill with the giddy excitement of going to the carnival and riding the tilt-a-whirl; she quickly realized those thoughts were not her own.

She hadn’t willingly gone to the carnival in her life.

She focused back on Dr. Lamb’s face before continuing, “but I think that’s all my parents ever bothered to tell me.” 

Dr. Lamb took notice of the slowed speech and far off look. 

“Well,” she clapped her hands together, a nervous habit of her own, “it looks like you know all the basics,” she cleared her throat before she continued. 

She wanted to tell River how she had the same dream. 

Not nearly as often, but how it was the same dream.

She wanted to tell River that she had been on the doomed ride with five incredible teenagers who gave up their lives so she could have a second chance.

There was so much she wanted to tell her, but it wasn’t her place. 

“How about we look into some grounding techniques to help you get some more sleep?”

“You don’t think the dreams are weird?” River set her pencil down and watched Dr. Lamb’s face for any indication that she was doing this therapy thing wrong. 

“Weird? Maybe,” Penny started, “but the simple fact of the matter is that dreams are designed to be weird.”

“They are?” 

“Yeah!” Penny got up from her bean bag and went to the bookshelf behind her.

Laying on one of the higher shelves, was a yellowed book on dreams and how to interpret them.

“See, for years, people have been trying to figure out parts of their life, using their dreams. Some people are trying to use them to tell the future while some people think the dreams are windows into the human psyche,” Dr. Lamb flipped through the pages before handing the book to River, “You can read through it if you’d like.”

River stared at the book in awe.

It could hold the answer to everything going on in her head. 

“Is it real?” She asked in a quiet voice, not taking her eyes off the book that was now sitting in her lap.

“I don’t put a whole lot of stock in the fortune telling side of it, but I have found that dreams are a great way for your brain to decompress,” Dr. Lamb let herself fall back into her bean bag to punctuate the sentence. 

River looked back to her therapist, then back to the book. 

Then she looked at her watch.

They were nearing the end of her session. 

“Hey Dr. Lamb, could we schedule my next appointment for the same time next week?” 

Penny hated to admit that she often lost track of time when River came in, it was much like talking to an old friend. 

“Of course honey, any door knob confessions this week?”

River gathered her items, tucking the book and her notebooks back in her bag, placing her pencil back into the small elastic ring designed to hold it. 

She stood up, stretched briefly, then smiled at her. 

“I think I accidentally made Gladys move out and now I have a new roommate who I definitely already made a horrible first impression with,” she hurried through the sentence as she hurried out of the office and out the front door of the small building.

“See you next week!” She called out, already making her way down the sidewalk. 

Dr. Lamb stood in the doorway of her home office and shook her head. 

[relenafanel]

Dicks (in every definition): a fake-relationship AU

Geralt/Jaskier

Find it on Ao3:  Dicks (in every definition) by relenafanel

FOR THE MODERN AU CHALLENGE. WEEK 1: Fake-Relationships

Tag: witcherauseptember

________

“I can’t believe anyone could be such an unmitigated puss-filled dick,” Essi said, staring at her phone in disbelief. Jaskier groaned and let his head thunk on the bar.

“I can.” His sticky forehead was the least disgusting part of the evening.  He'd just come out to forget his ex, and maybe celebrate being free a little (as fucked up as that was) and quite frankly felt attacked by his social media.

“If I believed it from anyone it would be that narcissist,” she conceded, biting on her lip.

“I know,” Jaskier agreed. “That’s the worst part. I feel like it’s my fault being blindsided by this, as though I should have known something was going to happen today.”

Essi snorted. “It’s not your fault your ex is the worst.”

“No, but I was with him for almost 3 years. I don’t know. That’s my fault.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “Look at this desperate fucker. Do you actually think he’s winning? He might be in a new relationship but the look of this guy makes my vagina want to shrivel up and die.”

Jaskier took her phone from her and looked again. Yeah. Yikes. Valdo was definitely scraping the bottom of the barrel with that one. Jaskier hadn’t even tried to join any dating sites post-breakup, but he was pretty sure there were better options. It wasn’t even the guy’s looks so much as he just screamed skeevy douchebag. It was making Jaskier’s metaphorical vagina also want to die.

“You need to get drunk. Maybe laid.”

“No,” Jaskier said, an idea starting to form as he looked at the relationship status change. “No. I need to match pettiness with pettiness. I need to find someone so hot that I’d have trouble getting him - let alone Valdo with his sad, small dick - and make sure to post a picture on Facebook.”

“Would that make you feel better?”

Jaskier smiled with teeth. “I think it would.”

***

It was their third bar of the evening and Essi was definitely sick of the manhunt. She probably hadn’t realized that when Jaskier was judging men fully objectively and not looking for matching personalities (relationship goals) or a willing body (one night stand goals) he had incredibly discerning tastes.

Probably too discerning.

“How about him?” Essi asked, barely looking up from her phone. She gestured to a guy sitting at the bar trying to make eye contact with a woman across the room.

“Ehh,” Jaskier said. “Sweater vest.”

Essi rolled her eyes. “But cute.”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for eye-searing hot.”

“I’m having trouble remembering how you’ve ever been in any relationships with these unrealistic expectations.”

“Valdo thought I was hot.” Jaskier thought about that for a moment. “Did I stay with someone for three years out of flattery?”

“Probably. Fuck. Get therapy.”

“I am.”

“You’re going to be working on tonight for a while.”

Fucking true. “Oh god, we just saw Valdo’s taste in men. Tell me true… am I ugly.”

“You’re spiraling.”

“That’s not an answer!”

“You’re spiraling!”

“Yes,” Jaskier agreed, pulling at his hair. “I’m so aware.”

“Based on the guy in his status update I’m going to guess you’re the hottest guy he could get.”

“You’re a good friend.” Jaskier pressed his head against her shoulder.

Then, a table opened up across the room, revealing the man sitting on the other side of it. “Holy shit.”

Essi looked up. Then she looked up. “Wow.”

“I hope he’s into men,” Jaskier said. “Or at least willing to play along with pretending to be for long enough for you to get a picture.”

“You’re going to walk up to that?” Essi asked. “You have more balls than brains.”

That was probably true.

***

“Hi, I’m Jaskier,” he opened with, dropping into the seat across from the gorgeous man. Up close he was even more startlingly pretty, with a chin dimple that highlighted his strong jaw and drew attention to his mouth. “And my boyfriend broke up with me two months ago, only to post his new relationship on Facebook today. Our three year anniversary. It’s the dickest of moves, right?”

The man hummed in agreement, but otherwise didn’t stop frowning in Jaskier’s general direction. Like someone waiting for him to get to the point. Jaskier saw that frown often.

“The reason for the oversharing is that I just forced my best friend to follow me to three different bars to find someone so phenomenally hot for me to spend time with and get picture proof, and here you are. I’d do jazz hands but you don’t seem like someone who responds well to jazz hands.”

“What are jazz hands?”

Whoa.

What a voice. What a sexy, sexy voice. Jaskier knew what he was talking about. He was a connoisseur of voices.

Jaskier wiggled his fingers at him. Tada! “Jazz hands.”

“Huh.” The man took a drink of his beer. “You want to use me as a revenge plot?”

“Exactly. Can I buy you a drink?”

The man gestured to his mostly full beer. “I’m not drinking to get drunk tonight.”

That was only a no to the beer. “Nachos or some other foodstuff?”

The guy seemed possibly interested in food.  

“Fine,” he agreed.  

****

Facebook: Julian Alfred Pankratz is in a relationship with Geralt of Rivia.

“Who’s Julian Pankratz?” Geralt muttered, staring at his phone.

“What?” Jaskier groaned, coming out a shitty sleep to a few realizations:

He’d gone home with the hottest guy on earth, which he should be pleased about, AND WAS PLEASED ABOUT

He might throw up

He’d done something last night. Something he’d said “that’s up for tomorrow Jaskier to sort out” because his drunk self was apparently a fucking masochist, and now Jaskier wasn’t really sure what that was.

Only Geralt was still scowling at his phone and seemed to know his real name.

So.

“Fuck,” Jaskier groaned. His mouth tasted like nachos and the regret of doing shots too late in life. He was 28 years old, not dead, but his hangover didn’t seem to know that.  “We didn’t get married , did we?”

“...”

Jaskier risked the light filtering in through the edges of the blinds to look at Geralt. His hair was beyond mussed - Jaskier didn’t know hair could get that tangled overnight. He was still frowning at his phone.

“I’ve been calling you Jaskier.”

“I go by Jaskier,” he promised. He was too busy having his own crises to deal with Geralt’s! For fucksakes. “Now, back to the marriage thing??”

“No.”

Phew. That was probably on him. He wasn’t sure people could actually get fake married overnight. Legally. He’d seen a lot of movies, though.

Ok. Next problem.  “I might throw up.”

Geralt turned his head slowly to look at him. Yikes. Too much beautiful-man-face in his face for this early in the morning.

“It’s eleven,” Geralt told him in the dry tone that told Jaskier he’d said that all outloud.

“Eleven after getting to bed at what? Five? Eugh, boo. Do you have any food?”

***

Geralt did have food.

Well, Geralt had protein bars and electrolytes, which was basically the same thing. Jaskier could always fall on top of a burger on his way home if he had to.  He’d finally looked at his phone by the time he was halfway through his breakfast.

107 new notifications.

What the fuck?

Julian Alfred Pankratz is in a relationship with Geralt of Rivia

Geralt and I were going to wait until announcing this wasn’t an asshole move, but now that it doesn’t really matter, I just wanted everyone to know that I’m doing GREAT.

Attached to it was the picture of the two of them together that Essi had taken with the caption of “I wouldn’t feel too sorry for Jaskier tonight”

His drunk self had a lot to answer for. No wonder Geralt had been scowling at his phone.

“I can’t believe I went Facebook Official with someone I haven’t even had sex with yet,” Jaskier mourned. “What is it, 2007?”

***

It took Jaskier almost the full day to recover enough to actually look through his comments on Facebook. By the time he had, they’d almost doubled and he’d made the mistake of clicking into Instagram to find one of those quintessential happy-relationship-our-feet-are-cute-together bullshit pictures. He had a different following on Instagram, mostly using it for pictures of himself singing.

Yikes. Yikes. Yikes. This wasn’t a contained problem, if you could call their mutual friends and families on Facebook that had been gathering in the wings for 15 years a contained problem . Fucking Facebook. Jaskier friended people he’d met once. He had a database of acquaintances. It was great for - you know - being a musician looking for gigs. He’d done 15 weddings in the last year.

It was pretty shitty when he’d faked having a boyfriend so people wouldn’t feel bad for him.

But, as he read through the comments and realized that some of them weren’t for him, he realized that maybe he wasn’t the one with the biggest problem.

Jaskier: Did you just come out?

Jaskier: Are you EVEN INTO MEN?

Jaskier: I REMEMBER YOU THINKING THIS WAS FUNNY AND AGREEING TO IT

Jaskier: BUT

Jaskier: I REGRET COMMITTING TO CAPS SO SOON BECAUSE I MEAN THIS IN CAPS AND BOLDED

Jaskier: WHOEVER LAMBERT IS JUST CONGRATULATED YOU ON FINALLY GETTING DICKED DOWN BECAUSE IT MIGHT MAKE YOU LESS GRUMPY

Geralt: I see you’ve read the comments

Geralt: my brother

Jaskier: YOUR BROTHER?!

Geralt: bold and caps?

Jaskier: and italics what the fuck. Why’d you let me do this?

Jaskier: wait.

Jaskier: WAIT

Geralt: there it is

Jaskier: this was your idea

Jaskier: did you use me to tell everyone you know that you’re gay or bi or whatever you identify as?

Jaskier: what a brilliant opportunity last night was for both of us

Geralt: you went back to sleep and didn’t process any of this yet, didn’t you?

Jaskier had been seen with that, fuck. He made a face at his phone even though Geralt couldn't see it.

A few moments later a response to Lambert popped up from Geralt himself.

@Lambert who says I haven’t been getting dicked down this entire time you heteronormative asshole

Followed by someone named Yennefer posting a picture of a strap on.

Who were these people? Could you love someone based on how their friends reacted to their ill-advised fake-relationship status change? Asking for a friend.

Geralt: for context, that’s my ex-wife

Geralt: we’re ok

Geralt: especially when she’s helping me fuck with my brother

***

Jaskier was debating the merits of asking Geralt if he wanted to come up with a break-up plan or just date when another comment showed up.

Vesemir left a comment:

You’ll bring him to brunch tomorrow?

Geralt left a comment:

We’ll be there

Vesemir left a comment:

Leave the frightening device at home

Geralt left a comment:

He doesn’t need it

This was followed by a string of variations of LOL and OH SHITs from about 7 different people. Jaskier watched it all unfold feeling like he’d stepped into the middle of something he didn’t understand - yet. He was definitely in trouble, if the way his heart rate increased at Geralt’s he doesn’t need it was any indication. It wasn’t even the dick reference, though that was amazing. It was the snappy, quick response. The underlying sarcasm.

Jaskier had a type. He could end a fake relationship that was based on seeing a searing hot guy across a room, but it was a bit harder when the guy had a personality he liked. If Geralt turned out to have a heart of gold, Jaskier was screwed and would probably be proposing marriage by year’s end.

Yeah, we’ll be there , he commented.

Geralt: my dad

Geralt: thanks

Jaskier: no problem

Jaskier : gonna call

“So I’m thinking,” Jaskier said the moment Geralt’s face showed up on the video call. He was squinting at his phone like no one had ever tried to video call him before.

“Hi,” Geralt replied, looking amused.

“I’ve been debating the merits of planning a breakup for our fake relationship or just… dating? I’m thinking maybe we should date? Do you have input?”

“Dating’s fine.”

“But do you… are you even attracted to me? Would you pick me?”

Oh fuck, what was that?! Something new to bring up in therapy.

Geralt tilted his head.  “You don’t know this about me yet, but I’m capable of saying no. Overly capable, some of my family might tell you.”

“So you’re not saying no?”

“I’m pretty confident I said yes instead.”

***

“As Jaskier’s best friend and the only witness,” Essi said into the microphone, holding up a glass of champagne to salute the two of them. “Our happy couple gave me full permission to tell the story of what happened the night Geralt and Jaskier met. Like Jaskier himself, the story is partially an embarrassing tale of bad decisions, half-cocked plans, and a lot of heart.”

Jaskier grinned, and nudged his shoulder into Geralt’s.

“And,” Essi continued with glee, “dicks in every definition.”

[the-young-and-forgotten]

A Glimpse Through The Years ~ Third Year

| Masterlist |

September 1st 1993 - Third Year

Your father shook out his notebook as you pulled your suitcase down the staircase, struggling. “Daaaad” you complained “HELP. PLEASE.”  You head snapped towards him as he gasped, completely ignoring you. You drop the suitcase and walk towards him. “What could be more important than your daughter almost being crushed to death?” Your eyes fall on the front of the newspaper and your heart plummets. “Oh” 

There was a picture of Sirius Black, grinning evilly, baring his teeth. Underneath was a caption reading “BLACK STILL AT LARGE”. Your dad notices the look on your face and puts the newspaper face down, standing up to go help with your suitcase.  “Hogwarts will be well protected honey.” You roll your eyes “I know dad. I was shocked he could’ve gotten out of Azkaban.” 

You could tell your dad was desperate to get off the subject as he tried to make a joke about how heavy your suitcase was. You laugh falsely, indulging him. 

The drive to the station was quieter than it had ever been. Not that you minded much. It did give you time to think. How did Sirius Black break out? Why after 12 years did he pick now and What the hell does he want to do now that he’s out?  All of these questions captivated your thoughts for the entire journey. 

Your father beeped his horn to shake out of your thoughts “y/n, we’re here.” You lean over and give him a huge hug, promising him good grades and tons of Hogsmeade sweets. You collect your case from the trunk, running into Kings Cross Station. You wave to your dad for the last time running off to where the portal for Platform 9 & ¾ is located, a big grin on your face.

Another year at Hogwarts was starting. Sure, the school years so far have had its up and downs, but that's what you get for being in the same year as Harry Potter.  You grab a spare trolley and quickly throw your belongings onto it, running full speed at the pillar between platforms 9 and 10. 

You emerge onto platform 9 & ¾ a small smile gracing your face. You stand on your tiptoes, looking over the crowds of people and spotting Theo and Blaise talking with Draco. Your eyes light up as you push your trolley towards them.  Over the summer break, you had been consistently conversing via letter with Blaise and Theo, making the three of you pretty close friends. 

“Hey boys!” you say grinning. Theo gives you a hug as they both greet you. You look at Draco and smile sweetly at him “Hey Dray.” He blushes a little and moves to hug you as well. “Have you guys been doing okay?” Theo slung an arm around your shoulder “Yep! Mother was freaking out about big ol’ Black but I’m not fussed.” “I saw you with your mother Theo, you were scared shitless.” “Hush!” he said, placing a finger over your lips and glancing around. No one needs to know that!”  Blaise laughs as the two of you start walking away, taking long steps to keep up with you. “Sounds like something he’d do..” 

Draco runs to catch up, walking in silence beside you. Linking your arms through his, you shove Theo off, telling him to “Stop leeching off my trolley, I know what you’re doing Nott.”  You and Draco walk ahead of your trolley (Theo somehow ended up pushing it), the bickering coming from Theo and Blaise acting like background music. 

“What’s wrong Draco.” You say, breaking the silence between you two. He startled, blushing.  “Oh! Nothing Y/n, I was just..”  “Lost in your thoughts?”  “Exactly.” “...” “You know you can tell me anything right?”  “Yeah, I know.” 

You take a deep breath, ready to interrogate him further. But before you could get a word out, he straightened up suddenly, standing on tiptoes to look over the heads of the crowd. “Hey look! I can see Crabbe and Goyle! I gotta go! See ya!” He runs off with his trunk, quickly disappearing into the crowd.  Confused by his sudden disappearance you stand on tiptoes, searching for his friends as well. But you see nothing save a sea of new first years.  Frowning, you walk back and join in on Blaise and Theos squabble, walking onto the train. 

You fling open the door of your dorm, slumping down onto your bad, extremely tired. The train started to have malfunctions that turned out to be dementors that started feeding on your energy, making you weak with tiredness. Then, as per year, Dumbledore's speech had dragged on a little too long, making you almost fall asleep in your food. 

And now you were back in your dorm, dead tired. Eyes heavy and brain-fried, you drift off into a dreamless sleep. 

The first week back, as always, was a pain. Long lectures, mountains of books and homework and one too many headaches. Now, because of the escape of Sirius Black, the school was even more on edge. Students talked in low voices about the dementors, pointing out to the black, barely visible creatures standing at the edge of the borders to their friends. Gryffindors kept freaking out the First years, laughing as they jumped with fright. Teachers scolded students more harshly than before, glancing nervously at the dementors. Hogwarts had become cold, filled with fear. Cold but not boring. You ran down the hallway with Theo and Blaise running for the Divination classroom, drastically late. You burst through the trapdoor just as Professor Trelawney was explaining the significance of cups. Sneaking along the back of the room, the three of you slumped down at Dracos desk as he raised an eyebrow. “Long story” Theo said “Don’t bother asking,” Blaise added. “We exploded part of the potions cupboard.” you blurt out. Theo and Blaise sigh, giving you looks. You shrug at them as Draco holds in his laughter “How did you manage that?” “Theo doesn’t know how to use his damn wand” you glare at the boy in question, who turns red and shakes his finger at you. 

Professor Trelawnley suddenly approaches your table and picks up your cup, peering closely at it, her eyebrow rising. All conversation halts as you shift uncomfortably, wondering what she is seeing. “Ahh dear, you have a somewhat tragic future ahead of you.” She turns the cup and hums a little.  “In the close future you are going to lose someone close to you, this will warrant discourse in your life, but be careful of cutting them out completely because you never know what they decide.”  With that, she put down the cup and left your table bustling to the front of the room. You looked back at your friends disbelief and confusion written all over their faces. 

You jumped down from the divination classroom, the last one to exit. “What's next?” You ask Blaise as he pulls out the timetable “We all have DADA together… that should be interesting.” 

Draco pushes open the door of the classroom and you all file in. The desks were all pushed to the back of the room, leaving a big empty space with a sole cupboard in the middle of it as a scarred middle aged man leant against the side of it, reading a book. 

He looked up at the sound of the door closing and snapped shut his book “Ah, the last stragglers! Right, let's get down to business.” He gestured for the class to stand in front of him as he moved to the front of the cupboard. “I'm Professor Lupin and I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for this year. We’ll be learning all about the creatures in the magical world and today we are learning about the boggart! Now, can anyone tell me what a boggart is?”

As the class was entertained by the explanation of boggarts, you felt someone poking your shoulder. You follow the hand to its face and glance at Theo who wordlessly gestures to Draco.

Draco had a blank look on his face and seemed to be shaking? You share a concerned look with Theo and go to ask Draco what's wrong before Lupin tells the class to line up in front of the cupboard, separating you from him. Oh well, you can just ask him later. 

You were halfway through the line watching as Ron defeated his fear. While everyone cheered for him, you watched from the corner of your eye as Draco walked up to the Professor and said something to him. Lupin nodded and Draco headed out of the room. You, Blaise and Theo all look at each other with concern before continuing on with the lesson. After watching Blaise beat the banshee and Theo defeat a severed head, it was finally your turn. 

You nervously step towards the cupboard and hold up your wand defensively, ready for what the boggart was going to create.  Slowly, a figure steps out. Quick as a flash, you point your wand at it, and scream “RIDDIKULUS!” at the top of your lungs before anyone could see what your worst fear was. The boggart starts spasming as Lupin steps in front of you, putting the boggart back into the cupboard.

He dismisses the class not before he scrutinises you for a second. You ignore this and run out of the class, barely having time to grab your bag in the hopes of finding Draco. 

You ran through the corridors, but he was nowhere in sight. 

One day, in DADA class, Snape took the lesson for Lupin. Your teachers mysterious illness was a monthly occurrence, something you were keen to know about.  You sat there pondering on it as Snape argued with the Gryffindors. What could be so serious that he had to stay off for at least a couple of days?  You snap back to reality at the mention of your books. You pull it out and puzzle over the chapter he had assigned you to read. Werewolves? You weren’t supposed to cover this yet…

You shrug and start to read through it, engrossed in the knowledge it was feeding you. The signs and facts of spotting a werewolf were vaguely familiar to you though you couldn’t think of why. You glanced up briefly seeing Snape gaze at the class with a smirk, who looked like he was plotting something.  Now that you thought about it, why did he pick this chapter? He knows they weren’t up to it, what could be his real intentions?  At that moment, Snape looks at you and you shift your gaze back to your book pretending to read even though you had already finished.

The lesson slowly crawls by and he finally dismisses you, everyone running for the door. You stepped over the threshold, still thinking about that chapter and how familiar it seemed. Your eyes widened as realisation struck you in the face and everything clicked.  No wonder it was so familiar to you. Professor Lupin… was a werewolf. 

Days later, the match arrived. Hufflepuff against Gryffindors. You hurried along the corridor, disastrously late for the game. You glance out the window, noticing the horrible weather ‘Ugh, glad I'm not on the quidditch team.’ you think, picking up the pace.

Your breath starts hitching, as your mind reels on the thought of the game. ‘All negative thoughts...’ you realise, eyes widening. ‘Oh no…’ you run to the window, grabbing onto the railing and gasping at the scene ahead of you. 

You shivered as you watched several dementors move towards the quidditch pitch, frozen in shock. You shake yourself to snap out of it, taking a few steps back. “I gotta warn someone…” you mumble, thoughts wild “I gotta- DUMBLEDORE!” You take off down the corridor, running as fast as you could to the quidditch field. 

You push through the teachers, tugging on Dumbledore’s sleeve. “De-dementors” You puff out, struggling to speak. He looks at you with a hard gaze before standing up and hurrying down to the court. You go to follow him, not knowing what else to do. 

You feel a hand tug on your sleeve and turn to see Hagrid pulling you back, shaking his head slightly. You sink down onto the bench beside him, trying to calm down from the adrenaline still coursing through your body. “Dumbledore’ll take care o’ it, don't you worry” You jump at his voice, but nod along what he said. “I know… I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.” He looks down at you, smiling broadly “Dumbledore let a student be hurt? I wouldn’t spare it a second thought” 

Several agonizing minutes go by before you hear any news. Without any insight as to what had happened, the school was sent back to the dorms. You could hear students all around you grumbling. 

Amidst the voices you heard your name being called. Shoving through the crowd was Theo and Blaise “Finally! We were looking for you everywhere! What happened? Do ya know what's going on?” Theo pressured you. 

“The dementors got into the school” you told them bluntly “probably lured in by the emotions coming from the stadium” They stare at you in shock, waiting for you to say you were joking. When none was forthcoming, they screamed “WHAT” together, busting the eardrums of everyone in a 20 meter radius. 

As you walked back, you filled them in on what had happened to you during the game, making them stiff with shock and hardly believing it. 

“So you saw a dementor up close?” Theo asked. You were back in the common room and playing a game of chess. You moved your pawn before nodding. He leant over the game and shocked you with his closeness “WHAT WAS IT LIKE?!” 

You push him away, glaring “It wasn’t fun at all Theo” He sits back sighing “I know, sorry” 

You stare off into space again before responding. “I looked out the window and felt like a shell. I couldn’t feel anything. Completely numb.” You curl in on yourself, replaying the scene in your head. You felt a hand place itself on your shoulder as a distinctive voice asked what was happening.

Looking up, you see Dracos concerned face. A smile stretches across your face at the sight of him. You hadn’t seen him in so long.  He notices you staring at him and gives you a weak grin. You shuffle over and pat the spot you just created. He shakes his head and remains standing. “Uhh actually I was hoping we could take a walk?”  You get up and follow him out of the common room, trying to ignore Blaise and Theo’s unsubtle sniggering. 

“Whats up, Dray?” you say as soon as you step out. “Just wanted to talk. We haven’t been hanging out much lately..” the two of you walk in silence for a bit before he mumbles something you barely catch.  You look at him curiously as his face becomes flustered under your gaze. He pretended to muss up his hair trying to hide his red face. “I missed you” he says, still mumbling “Like, a lot.”  You smile at him and link your arms through his “I’ve missed you terribly as well you know?” 

He trips over his shoelaces and laughs it off nervously eyes darting to you as you laugh with him. He clears his throat, and opens his mouth to say something. “Sorry I haven’t been around around lately-”  You clap a hand over his mouth to shush him. He looks at you in surprise, noting your determined stance. “I have no care for your reasons as to why you stopped hanging out with me. Just long as you keep our old promise okay?” Draco nods and you remove your hand from his mouth. 

He stares at you for a little too long for it to be accidental before turning away and jogging slightly ahead. You run after him, laughing as you catch up. 

He watches you laugh as the sunlight from the windows you were passing reflect on your face, making you look angelic. He smiles and blushes again and re-links your arms. He pulls you along and starts talking aimlessly with you about anything and everything, wasting away the hours. 

The next few weeks were perfect for you. It was nearly the end of this school year. 

Even though the idolized “golden trio” were being as obnoxious as ever, Draco had started hanging out with you as well which made you forget about their behaviour. 

The golden trio just kept getting more suspicious. From subtle glances and hushed whispers has your curiosity piqued. You could see it was affecting Draco too, but neither of you made a move on that. 

A few days go by and you watch as Professor Lupin leaves the school, his secret now out. You were sad to see him go as he had easily been the best teacher you could ask for. As you waved him off, you saw Draco smirk out of the corner of your eye and you frown wondering if he was somehow connected to all of this. Days go by and Dracos snobby side comes out momentarily, shouting about how glad he was that Lupin was gone.  You keep your distance, not wanting to be caught up in the strings of hate he was causing. 

Finally it was the last day, the Great Feast was just in a few hours. You race down the staircase, still disappointed from the last match. You knew it was likely Gryffindor would win, but maybe, just maybe, Slytherin could snag it this year, you were, after all, in the lead right now. 

But alas, that was not what fate had set out for you.  You and Draco watched in disgust as the Gryffinddors celebrated and the room was clad in red and gold. They mussed up Potter's hair and almost broke his glasses.  “Why are they winning again?” Draco asked “Because Potter fell off his broom and they all took pity” you snap back.  Blaise rolls his eyes at your petty disgust “Pretty sure its ‘cause they won the damn Quidditch Cup”  “Shut up Blaise” You and Draco chorus.

You sigh and pick some confetti off your plate, sitting down. “Well, I call it favouritism.” The Slytherins within earshot nod at your words, all silently cursing the Gryffindors. Minutes go by and you eat your food in silence before you speak up, glancing at Draco. “That petition is really starting to look tempting eh?”  “You sure are right Y/n”

Waking up the next morning to Pansy’s obnoxious laughter was a pain, you rolled off your bed and lumbered around, gathering the stuff you had prepared last night. You stumble down to the Great Hall where Theo, Blaise and Draco were waiting for you. They laughed at your tired state, teasing you all the way to the train.

You slept for most of the ride, catching snippets of conversations that didn’t interest you at all.

Hours later, you were woken up by Draco gently shaking you, holding out your bag for you to take, you smile at him and grab it, racing off the train.

One foot off the train and you feel a pair of cold stares coming from across the platform. Looking up, you stare directly into the eyes of Lucius Malfoy who looked at you with disgust. 

Rolling your eyes you turn to Draco, whose face had turned grave. “Well I guess this is goodbye Dray…” you say reluctantly “Yeah…”  The two of you stand there awkwardly for a bit before you drop your bags and throw your arms around him, drawing him in close. You feel his face turn red and you chuckle softly. “I’m gonna miss you” He was quiet for a moment before responding “Not as much as I will”  He lets go of you and keeps his face hidden as he walks off to his parents. 

You feel Blaise and Theo creep up behind you, staring at his retreating figure. “You reckon he’s gonna be okay?” Theo asked “Yep. The Draco I know is stronger than you can guess.” 

Blaise smiles at you and gives you a quick hug, signalling to his parents he was coming. “Well, I will take your word for it Y/n. You know him best” You hug him back before he runs off. 

Theo looks at you for a second before scooping you up into a bear hug, laughing “Write me?” he says, letting you go. “As if I won’t” You retort, winking.  He grins wildly, as he passes and salutes you. “Well i'm off! Take care Y/n!”  You salute back shouting after him “see ya, you big oaf!”

Theo’s laughter rings in your ears as you run towards the pillar, knowing that the muggle world is waiting for you, just beyond the wall.

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[robron1609]

Robron Week 2021 - Day 1

Meet-Ugly + "That's not an explanation."

New Beginnings

(ao3 link)

Aaron’s eyelids fluttered like a candle in the wind, the hustle and bustle of the city pecking away at his head with a sledgehammer. The bitter taste of ale, the fruity taste of wine and all the combined spices of every spirit known to man were stagnant on his tongue as he peeled his damp limbs off the leather sofa beneath him.

He let out a dry cough and it felt like someone had shot him in the brain during his sleep. But other than that, he was as right as rain.

It took him longer than he would care to admit to remember that he did, in fact, not own a single item of furniture that had even an inch of leather on it, and he lived in the in the middle of bloody nowhere where the only thing (apart from his mother) that made him shake a leg in the morning was the bellows of Moira’s cows when their troughs were being topped up.

So, there’s that.

His brain caught up and he bolted upright, his whole face moulding into a sculpture of what, where, when, how and why. He took in his brand-spanking-new surroundings; a lavish penthouse overlooking London’s skyline, decked out from head to toe in a fusion of ultra modern and industrial pieces. Not really his style, to put it nicely. It looked like something straight off the front page of one of those overpriced interior design magazines on the top shelf of David’s shop that no one ever bought.

Aaron could only hope that whoever lived here was some bloke he’d pulled in the haze of last night, if it wasn’t then… what the actual fuck was he doing here?

When the room had stopped spinning on all its axis and Aaron was eighty-nine percent sure that he would be able to hold his vomit in if necessary, he braved the hallways in search of other life. He detoured to stand in front of a back-lit mirror that had beckoned him over, and he was introduced to his reflection. It gawked right back at him, dressed in nothing but a pair of neon yellow boxers and a Scottish flag that he was wearing as a cape. The flag was fastened loosely around his neck with a frayed shoelace and there was a big tear down the centre of it.

Jesus fucking shit. Absurd didn’t even begin to cover it.

Sweat dripped down his top lip when he heard a deep voice through the wall. He teetered around the corner until he was close enough to pick up most of the words.

“I won’t be in today.” There was a pause. “Does it fucking matter?” Nice manners, then. “Look, unless you want me hurling all over the new contact, I suggest you grow a pair and attend the meeting without me.”

Aaron gripped the glossed door frame, his clammy hands squeaking on the wood as he snuck a look at who the voice was coming from. The man was stunning. He was all sun-kissed skin, choppy blond hair, and a gorgeous mouth that dipped dramatically in the corner.

“Shit!” With a jolt, the blond dropped his phone and it landed on his face with a mocking smack.

“Sorry-”

“Why are you in my house?!”

“I’m Aaron.” No shit, Aaron.

“That’s not an explanation!”

“Sorry.”

Aaron cringed. All of a sudden he was big on apologies, apparently. Blondie was now sitting up, scratching the fluff on the nape of his neck as he shuffled out of bed and adjusted his duvet accordingly whenever it slipped below his waistline. He just glared at Aaron, waiting to hear something that made sense.

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me,” Aaron said, using all of his self-control to stop his eyes from drifting downwards. “My head’s mashed. I remember being on the train with Adam and Vic, and then-”

“Vic as in my sister Vic?”

Aaron just stood there, catching flies. “I- I dunno, I think so. Sugden?”

“Uh-huh.”

Ohhhh, Robert Sugden. Aaron finally put a name to the face and felt like giving himself a pat on the back.

…..

“Here you go. Extra strong.”

"Ta."

Aaron warmly accepted the cup of coffee, the steam flying off it and dissolving in his pores. He used the piping hot liquid to swamp down some paracetamol before tightening the strap on the dressing gown that Robert had lent him a little earlier with a side-eye and a grumbled, “Make sure you give it back.”

With the current cycle rumbling the machine into the ground, Aaron glanced at the digital timer displayed on the appliance. Just forty-eight minutes until he could grab his screwed up clothes, slap them on, and leg it to the underground with his tail between his legs. The longest forty-eight minutes of his life, no doubt.

Hoping to make a crack in the ice, Robert led Aaron to the scene of last night’s crime. Through the sliding doors, across the patio and up the spiral stairs, secluded in the corner and illuminated by the steady flicker of the firepit. Robert was surprised that it hadn’t burnt out in the early morning under the April showers.

The rooftop terrace was what sold this place for Robert. It was his haven, complete with everything that made his superficial heart weep. This morning, however, it looked how he felt.

He absorbed the aftershocks of his party (shards of glass littering the outdoor table, remains of finger foods welded to the deck, and a pair of nude stilettos abandoned on the bar) and sagged. Turning thirty was dismal enough without having to clean up after his colleagues. Or, as he liked to call them, a bunch of wound up, hoity-toity pen pushers who didn’t even know his middle name—just a sniff of free booze and they were squeezing into a Ralph Laurent polo that still had the label on, and patting him on back with a bout of boisterous laughter as if they were best mates.

Wow, he was in dire need of some proper friends.

Aaron propped himself up on the bar. “Bet you don’t get tired of this,” he said, looking out at the sparkling city.

“It’s a great hangover cure,” Robert said, nursing his Americano and watching the ripples dance over the surface as he lightly blew it. “It can be lonely, though,” he admitted, unsure as to why. This handsome and hungover stranger was just waiting for his ticket out of here, he didn’t want or need to become Robert’s agony uncle to fill the time, that was for sure.

“Why’s that?”

Oh. Perhaps Aaron, for one reason or another, cared. Or he’s got nowhere else he needs to be and Robert’s left him with no choice but to sit and listen because it's the polite thing to do. Aaron looked at Robert all doe-eyed and Robert wanted to stay here until he’d told Aaron every single intricate detail of his life up until this point. But that seemed a little crass.

“Don’t know, really. I just… don’t like to be alone with my thoughts, I suppose. And being up here, well, it’s a whole lot of that.”

“I know what you mean,” Aaron said. “How long have you lived here?”

"Nearly two years on the whole." Robert calculated, Aaron giving him an amicable nod in response. Robert licked the coffee froth off his lips, clearing his throat. "I've lived in London a while, though. Since I left the village, pretty much."

"And you never thought about going back?"

"I couldn't." That would mean looking back. And after the trail of destruction he'd left in his wake, that was never going to happen. They were better off without him. Or at least his Dad and Andy were. Vic and Dianne never stopped reaching out, however, offering their support through texts and unanswered voicemails.

Aaron changed the topic, sensing that Robert's internal trip down memory lane wasn't a smooth ride. "You heard anything from Vic and Adam?"

"They were both flat out in the spare room last time I checked," Robert answered. He'd been less than pleased to find them entwined together on top of the duvet, dead to the world as Adam slobbered away on the satin pillowcase like an excited dog, and Vic let out a mishmash of unconscious sounds from sniffles to whistles, her makeup crusty and her outfit dishevelled by a night's sleep in it.

"Vic had a whole itinerary planned. Some museum, Leicester Square, and then this ridiculous hipster coffee shop near the station," Aaron said with a dreary eye roll. "Even though our train leaves just after two."

"She's just excited. She doesn't come here often."

"'Suppose not."

"Anyway, I recommended that coffee shop so you better not miss it," Robert said. Aaron snorted because of course he did. "Come on."

Robert rose, perking up a bit as he stretched his arms until they clicked with satisfaction. Aaron followed in his footsteps, literally, but they stopped in their tracks, coming face to face with a rumbled Victoria.

She looked dead and alive all at the same time as she swung her phone about. "There they are, the newly engaged couple."

Robert choked on air and Aaron gave him a splash of side-eye before snatching Vic’s phone. "What are you on about?" And Aaron had to check that the digital date displayed in the top left corner of the screen wasn't April the 1st. Nope, it was indeed the 23rd. And under that was a Facebook post on his profile; a blurry, backlit photo of him and Robert flashing the camera with two rings that didn’t even match, accompanied by a slurred caption.

yayy ENGAAAAAGED! whoop whoop!! hears to many many many many many year <3

Aaron groaned, throwing his head back in sheer embarrassment when Vic grabbed a hold of his and Robert’s left hands. Sure enough, the rings were still there. “Oh my God,” she cackled, her voice like a siren in the middle of the night. “This is brilliant. A few more of those cocktails and you’d be halfway to vegas, ey?”

Robert massaged his temples, kneading roughly at his dry skin. “Whatever’s in them is lethal,” he grumbled, peering over Aaron’s shoulder as he watched him scroll through the comments and squeeze his eyes shut in disbelief at each one.

“It’s your bar, mate. You should know what it’s serving,” Aaron said. He had a point. “Let’s just pray we left it at cheap rings.”

(Aaron couldn’t even begin to fathom at what point during the party he and Robert had fled the penthouse and ended up at a jewellers of all places. Who’d thought a proposal was the perfect end to a not-so-perfect night? Who’d taken that photo? And who in their right mind was selling giant fabric flags in the early hours of the morning? It would be a miracle if he becomes sober enough to answer at least one of those questions.)

Robert pouted. “That’s a shame. I’ll cancel the tickets to Vegas, then,” he teased.

“I dunno, I could do with a holiday just to get over the shame.” Robert grinned at the younger man’s flirty tone.

“Cheers,” Robert scoffed. Aaron handed the phone back to Vic who watched the pair with a knowing glint in her eye, her head bouncing back and forth between them.

“Only joking,” Aaron said. “Could be worse.”

Vic pocketed her mobile with a yawn and tightened her ponytail. “Right, I’m gonna drag my lump of a boyfriend out of bed and start gathering our stuff. I’ll leave you two to plan the wedding of the century, shall I?”

Vic left the rooftop, her flats scuffing all the way down the metal staircase. Robert gulped down the remains of his coffee and turned to Aaron with a smirk.

“So, fiancé,”–Aaron shot Robert a fiery glare which, if Robert didn’t know any better, would leave a bruise on his ego–“I know a great place where we can get some brunch. Why don’t we ditch Vic and Adam and I’ll drop you off at King’s Cross after.”

Aaron pulled a face. “ Brunch? I’m not paying £8.99 for a plain scone.”

“My treat.” Robert offered, hoping that would seal the deal.

“Like a date?”

“If you want it to be.” Aaron paused for a beat, not that there was ever much to contemplate.

“Fine.” Robert didn’t miss the bashful smile taking over Aaron’s face. Robert bit the inside of his cheek when Aaron began to descend the stairs. He crammed his hands in his pockets, his heart going into overdrive as he kicked his feet into gear.

[chai-ssi-latte]

Dating a Scientist

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Female Reader

Warning: Fluff.

About: Sebastian is out doing interviews to promote The Falcon and The Winter Soldier TV Series when the interviewer brought up his girlfriend who is a biochemist. He started talking about what it’s really like dating a scientist and apparently, it’s fun.

Gif not mine :)

Interviews - they never fail to make Sebastian nervous no matter how many times he had done it in his life. There were interviews where they would give Sebastian preview of their questions so he would somehow be prepared. And if there are questions that are too personal to answer, then they can easily remove it from the list. Unfortunately, this one is not one of those. 

Sebastian knew he has to promote his TV Series and that’s the main goal, but he doesn’t know what other questions they would ask him. It made him feel anxious and he can literally feel the tingles on his body...it’s not the good tingles that made him excited. 

It’s live. The show is live. He couldn’t help but mutter a faint ‘oh God’ under his breath when one of the producers started doing a countdown. You’re live Sebastian, better watch your words. He talked to himself. 

He does it all the time. The talking-to-yourself thing until you feel better. Oh how much he wished he’s in New York with his girlfriend. She always have that effect where she would touch Sebastian’s hand and everything would be alright. Everything feels right when he’s with her.

“Everybody let us all welcome, Sebastian Stan!”

They talked about the process of filming and how Marvel approached him about the spin-off series of the franchise. The flow of the interview is going well, the interviewer made sure to make Sebastian feel comfortable and his questions were actually great ones; no questions about his diet and how he works out, which makes him genuinely happy. 

“It’s great. I love my character as Bucky Barnes and he kinda grew on me.” Sebastian talked. “It also feels amazing being on set with Mackie again. I wouldn’t tell this to him directly but yeah, he makes working fun and he makes it feel like it’s not your job...but in a good way.” He finished.

“We got a question from twitter.” the interviewer trailed.

“Oh God.” Sebastian mumbled, enough for the crowd to hear causing them laugh. He remembered when he and Mackie read thirst tweets and he’s traumatized. He swore to himself he’ll stick with instagram and ditch twitter for the better of his sanity.

“It’s appropriate, I promise.” The interviewer laughed. “So this fan asked how does it feel filming with a new Captain America. Does it feel weird with Chris Evans not being the Captain you’re used to?”

Sebastian gushed. “That guy.” he snickered. “Well, you know. I miss him. I miss working with him, I think he has his own ways in portraying Captain America and he gives a certain aura that you can only see in Chris. But no, it doesn’t feel weird at all, Mackie pulls off the character of Falcon and Captain really well. It’s different than what people are used to but I think they will like it. Mackie does put his own twist on his character.”

The crowd clapped from his answer and so is the interviewer. “This question is not related to your TV series but I hope that’s fine.” Although Sebastian felt the nerves kicking in, he still nodded his head with a grin on his face. “So, a few months ago, you posted a picture.” Sebastian looked behind him where a giant monitor was placed. It showed a picture of his girlfriend, wearing a laboratory clothing and is holding a flask. He edited it in black and white but the picture still shows the big smile she has on her face.

“I don’t want to assume anything because the only caption you have here is a red heart and that could mean many things, actually. But who is she?”

“She’s my girlfriend.” Sebastian proudly answered. “She’s been in my instagram stories a few times and it’s mostly when she’s wearing a lab coat and doing experiments.” 

“She likes that type of things, I assume?”

“No, uh...she’s a scientist. Biochemist!” Sebastian exclaimed. He feels nice talking about her and it’s not the first time he actually did talk about her. He mentioned her name a few times back during the promotion for Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame. It feels refreshing that the interviewer didn’t know anything about his relationship, he always liked bragging about how he’s dating a scientist over and over again.

“Wow! That’s amazing. I can’t believe Sebastian Stan is dating a scientist.”

“Yeah. Two years and counting and I still can’t believe it myself.” The sound of loud chuckles echoed in the room. 

“How does it feel and what is it like dating a scientist?” The interviewer asked him. Sebastian couldn’t help the the grin on his face. Even the people on the crowd seems to be really interested on the topic.

“You know what, many people actually thought that it’s all science and stuff. With Y/N being a biochemist, my friends...even my family thought she’s like a clean freak and would always talk about science and chemistry and all that jazz. But I’d say it’s normal. It’s just like dating anyone, really.” Sebastian was waving his hands in the air in gestures and it made all the people smile. They could tell he’s so in love with his girlfriend, Y/N, as he mentioned. 

“I think what’s special is that when I ask her science stuff, I learn something new.” Sebastian put his hand on the corner of his lips, “You know, It’s not what I studied in college.” and laughs to his dead joke.

“I think one time I asked her what’s the difference between bacteria and virus and it almost felt like I have lived in a different world after that. It feels like my brain gained 10 percent IQ or something.”

“Wow. So it’s not science all the time?”

“No. No, it’s not. We really wouldn’t talk about science until I ask her stuff. Although most of the time they’re dumb questions but uh... she still answers them anyway. If it’s too dumb then, she’ll just glare at me or throw something. Sometimes she would punch me too but yeah.” Sebastian ranted.

The interviewer thanked him and they shook hands together. “Sebastian Stan everybody!”

This was requested (Interview-ish kind of imagine) but I decided to put a twist on it. And I really liked it so far. Hope you all too x

[bunny-hoodlum]

I'm not dead!

But I did totally blank out (afain) on this side of the interwebs and I am very, very sorry about that. 🥺 Tbh, I was going to ease back into the Tumblrsphere, cuz I had turned on notificiations for like all of a minute a couple months ago... And then I couldn't watch WandaVision in private listening mode without the audio cutting out from the notifications. XD I feel like I'm somehow showing my age because surely that shouldn't be such a hindrance... Well anyways, I turned off notifications right away and forgot about everything since then. Q n Q

My current brain space in order has been: Kipo: Age of the Wonderbeasts, Dr. Stone, Jujutsu Kaisen, Heaven's Design Team, I've dyed my hair 3 times again, I'm wondering when I can get my ears pierced budget-wise (I'm literally hitting my 13yo milestone at 30, I'm such a late-life bloomer)... I've been eating almost nothing but salad for the past week or two, Idk, the days blur together and time means nothing to me anymore... Going back to shows!!! My recent headspace is: My Hero Academia -- YES I'M FINALLY BINGING IT -- Tokyo Revengers, ODD TAXI (I loooove this unique anime, it's like a gritty Parappa Rappa), Shadows House ... I still have to watch To Your Eternity but I'm going to be all over that!! And I recently decided to watch Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle. I absolutely love it. What I wasn't loving was the Funimation captions being too early since jokes are ALL ABOUT THE TIMING! So I'm still on ep 4.

Will I ever really talk about any of these? Or draw fan art ever again? I have no idea. The urge never crosses. The images never visit my mind anymore.

I'm just dropping this here because it's been awhile and I am alive but I've just got the worst attention span and I will check my messages again just like I always do before I disappear again -- I'm not actively working on anything that I would share on tumblr so that is why I forget to come on here -- what was I getting to? Right, anyways...

I haven't forgotten about the stories I need to update and repost (like "Powerless") but my procrastination keeps kicking in because the amount of time it feels like I'll have to put in towards that stuff is overwhelming, and when it all turns into a multi-project sludge in my brain, I just go hide in video games and shiznots. 😔 Ugh.

Even the thought of updating on FFN is intimidating me. I'm pretty sure all my old files are gone by now because I haven't refreshed them. So to re-upload "Powerless" is literally going to be like from scratch. Not writing it, I mean the editing. The italicization and the bolding and the scene separation!!!

I wish I hadn't deleted it the first time after all. Q_Q It could've just sat there accruing hype or yearning or whatever. Ugh.

Okay, so why is my attention span so bad honestly? Well, I have the chance to not work slave wage and instead actually focus on my 'art'. Ofc my fine motor skills are rusty and my digital drawing program skills are severely lacking. When everyone else has kept at it, I fell behind. That's what it is and what it feels like. I'm just at a hobbyist level, like, it's really, really bad. And I'm struggling not to look back on my life and question why I didn't do more to make sure I went to art school. Like actually work buttloads to go to VCUArts. Idk, my mom 10 yrs ago was like 'you need a car', as if I can't exist anywhere outside her reach without one. But I would've tried to live in the dorms and just bike. UGH. WHY DIDN'T I JUST DO THINGS AND SAID FUCK ALL TO OTHER PPLS WORRYING??!

Sorry. Ahem.

On the other hand... There's Skillshare and Schoolism and things, and even some Youtuber art pros have discord critique days or whatever, and all that is supposed to be a better investment than 200k debt, but I still keep feeling like I avoided really important experiences and that I'm still disadvantaged. I'm prolly am being pessimistic but it feels so objectively true. Ugh. I just don't see the self-taught vs formal education gap ever closing in a satisfactory way.

I forget what my point is. I wish I could update my fics, I really wish I could schedule some time in, but I haven't been able to properly think about any of it for the past three weeks I think. Another thing that's currently occupying my headspace is an artist that goes by HeartMush. I don't want to @ them because I don't want them to see my whining, but I'm sooooo enamored with their skills and envious of their formal education. And other things. Which you could find on their website contained within their downloadable CV. T_T This person feels like a prodigy to me. Lesigh.

Anyways, if I ever come back again, hopefully it'll be some art that I'm proud of. Maybe whenever I get there, I'll have clearer feeling how much farther my goal really is, and that should be enough for me.

[stareyedmoonchild]

@dawnwave16​ hope you don’t mind, but I had to modify the dialogue a bit to fit the scenario. I hope you enjoy it.

Marinette knew things would end like this. Don’t ask her how she knew, because she wouldn’t be able to give a good enough answer other than, “It’s Gotham,” but here she was, running from the psychotic killer clown inside an abandoned warehouse.

Pause! You must be wondering what lead up to this. Well, allow me to indulge your curiosity.

It all began when Marinette’s parents where requested to cater at the New Year Charity Gala hosted by Bruce Wayne himself. Apparently he wanted the best, and from what he could gather it was them. He even offered to pay for the airfare and suite that they would be staying at for two weeks, their own kitchen too. With all this being offered, who were they to say no? Besides, it’s Bruce fucking Wayne. You must be out of your mind to say no to a man with that influence, well, unless you're Tony Stark. Now that man has denied almost every invite from Mr. Wayne, mainly because he would try to out shine Bruce with his own gala, but that’s besides the point.

Anyways, the point is they said yes, which lead them to them flying out to Gotham. 

“Now Marinette, while we are here try not to bring too much unwanted attention to yourself. This is the world’s most dangerous city, and we don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Her mother said, with a stern voice.

“That being said we came up with a list of Rules,” her father said, as he sat straighter in his seat looking her dead in the eye. 

“Do not talk to strangers,” Her mother began.

“Do not stay out past sunset,” her father followed. 

“Most of all if something doesn't feel right, you immediately head head back to the hotel.” 

“Try to avoid any and all confrontations”

By the time the plane landed, Marinette had more than a hundred rules to follow, and the worst thing was that she wouldn't even remember half of them.

"Maman, Papa, please, I'll be fine. Besides, how bad could the city be? It should be nothing compared to the akumas we face on a daily basis," Marinette reassured, but for some reason, she felt as if something was going to happen. Something that would go horribly wrong, and if she wasn't careful, it would be her life on the line.

If only she listened to that feeling.

Over the course of their stay, she was very diligent when it came to helping with the baking and decorating of various desserts. Her parents feeling as she deserved a break from the kitchen, told her to go outside and enjoy the city. Before she could argue, they were already pushing her out of the kitchen and out the door, saying, "be back by sunset."

With that, Marinette found her herself in the streets of Gotham. 

It was okay, she didn’t really stray too far from the building where her parents are working, and just sat outside at few tables that coffee shops set up, and drew.  However, that didn’t mean she didn’t notice the few looks and mutterings of passerby. 

“Excuse me.”

Turning her head to look behind her, she saw a boy about her age. He had this somewhat rich kid vibe, mainly because of the uniform he was wearing.

“Can I help you,” she asked, with near perfect English. 

‘Thank you for those lessons Adrien,’ she thought.

“I was wondering, could I take a picture with you,” seeing the her unsure look, he continued saying, “I know that it’s a weird question, but I feel like your going to be someone pretty soon, and I would like to one of the few who gets to say I met you before the fame. Hope that’s cool with you.”

“uh, okay,” Marinette said, still a bit unsure.

“Sweet,” He said excitedly.

He was quick about it. Wrapping a friendly arm around her shoulders, with a big grin on his face, as Marinette posed with a timid smile and peace sign. Soon enough there was a quick flash and the picture was done.

“Thanks,” he said, as he ran.

Marinette just stared at his vanishing form, and just shrugged it off. 

‘That was weird. Must be an American thing,’ she thought, going back to her drawing. If only she knew that the picture would be posted later that night, with the caption, “Possible new Wayne?” If only she knew that it would blow up. If only she knew that villains like to keep up with almost all topics about the Wayne family.

It was only on the fourth day of their stay, and Marinette wanted to get some fabrics for her families outfits for the Gala. when permission was granted she went to the nearest fabric shop, only to lose track of time. 

She’s so grounded after this. 

She turned into an alley, that Google said was a short cut. Holding the fabrics closer to her person, she began to feel as if something was following her. Something that had malicious intentions, and if she wasn’t careful, her life could very well be over. 

Marinette began to walk faster, and faster until eventually she found herself running. She didn’t even notice that she dropped her fabrics. Her heart was pounding in her ears, but when she heard it, the being that was her predator, the laugh that she only heard from countless videos from people who had close encounters with this person, it only got louder and faster. Her blood becoming ice in her veins, and by now she was running on pure adrenaline. If the sound on the video sent shivers down her spine, it was nothing compared to the real thing. 

That’s what lead her to where she is now, taking shelter in an abandoned warehouse, running from a killer clown. Fun.

‘Think brain, think,” she thought, looking round for a good place to hide so she could come up with a plan.

Her attention caught a corner were a good amount of boxes could, if arranged properly, hide her from plain sight. She got to work immediately, and by luck found a crowbar that she could use if he did by chance found her. 

Crouching within her box barricade, she slowed her breathing and gripped the crowbar so tight that her hands became white as snow. She was determined to survive this. 

Marinette listened to his footsteps, as he opened the closet on the other side of the room, and as he began to knock things over and rummage the room.

“”Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said slowly, followed by a crazed laugh.

“I just want to make you laugh.”

He stopped in front of her barricade, and head the shift in fabric. She knew her hiding place would be compromised, so she prepared herself for to attack. Everything became slow motion then. 

Marinette burst out from within, with an upward swing to the clowns face. She didn't even give him time to recover from the first blow, she attacked head on and couldn’t stop herself even after he was down. Her mind was telling her that if she stopped for even a moment, her life would be in his mercy. It wasn’t until she felt strong arms wrap around her from behind, restraining her from attacking, the bloody beaten clown. She struggled within their grasp, ignoring the reassuring words coming from their mouth, before headbutting the the man who held her. 

Turning to face this new character, did she get a good look at what was happening around her. Two men were taking the clowns vitals, making sure he would live, the youngest informing them of police and medic’s arrival, the intimidating one in a black cowl, and the bloody crowbar still in her hands. 

Well, this was not a good picture to paint. Especial when you’re in front of four Gotham heroes. She was going to be in some deep shit when she got home. 

“Damn kid, what’s your head made of? Cement? Consider this the last time I take my helmet off as to not scare anyone further than what they are,” Red Hood asked, as he held his nose to stop the blood flow.

“Dude, you should know to use caution when dealing with someone who fight mode, rather than flight,” Nightwing said, as he and Red Robin let the medics take over.

“Yeah, yeah, but she was suppose to be the damsel in distress, right? You know harmless.”

“She was beating Joker to death with a crowbar,” Robin said.

“Still.”

Clearing her throat, Marinette caught their attention and said, “Hi. I was a damsel, I was in distress, I handled it. Have a good night.”

She threw the crowbar to the side, feeling somewhat badass. However, just before she was about to leave she realized she had no idea how to get back to the hotel.

Turning around sheepishly, she said, “Do any of you by chance know how to get to the hotel that Bruce Wayne owns on fifth street?” 

They all looked at Robin.

“Really?”

There was a moment of silence before, the boy sighed and walked toward her.

“Keep up and follow me.”

She smiled, waving goodbye to the other three heroes as she ran to catch up to the boy dressed in traffic light colors.

Bonus:

“So did you find out who she is,” Bruce asked, as Tim turned to face him.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Damian’s age, French, and has parents,” He responded, stressing the last part.

Bruce merely hummed at that bit of information before taking a sip of his coffee. So what if she had parents? It never stopped him before, just ask Barbara. Marinette will become his daughter one way or another, and when that happens, Tony will have nothing on him.

Tim stared at Bruce, knowing full well what was going through his head. Guess it’s time to warn the others of what is to come.

Send a number!

[hitsuackerman]

Wallpapers (Shinso x Reader)

a/n: it has been a hot minute since i last drabbled about my purple boy. with that here is some fluff :’) god shinso is like a breath of fresh air from all the heavy fics im making XD

PROMPT: Shinso likes stealing your phone to change your wallpaper into something random. Using that opportunity, you try to tell your feelings via wallpaper.

Warning: Fluff, Mediocre work :3 huhu gomen

Masterlist for all my fics :) here

Crushes.

They can either be a blessing or a curse.

One would consider it a blessing if the person reciprocates the feeling. Or, it can be put into good use. Say, as an inspiration for an exam or motivation to move forward. It can be considered a curse if they are dense, ignorant, or just so happened to be named ‘Hitoshi Shinso’.

Your feelings for Shinso was no doubt a slap to the face. It took a damn while before he finally lowered his walls and saw you as a friend. From the sports festival to the joint training session, it was all kept at bay. The sensation of butterflies fluttering in your tummy when he mentions your last name. The giddiness you feel when he drags the chair beside you and greets you a good morning. Well, basically anything he does just brightens your day.

Once he was finally comfortable, you saw just how much of a tease he was.

There was never a day when you would roll your eyes at his antics. If you would not disrupt the classroom’s peace by yelling his name, 2-A would immediately think something’s wrong or that both of you had a fight.

One habit Shinso developed was taking your phone and changing your wallpaper. The possibilities were endless when it came to options. Sometimes you would catch him taking your phone and his dead panned lilac eyes would scan for the perfect picture to replace the current one. There were great ones but there were questionable ones as well. It was annoying at first but, you got used to it.

In all honesty, you were just using that as an excuse for him to bring his chair closer to your desk. It was the perfect reason to stare at him as he went through his options. You could tell when he’s done his usual task, his mouth would form into smirk and he’d put your phone on the desk face down.

“I already know you changed my wallpaper.” You’d comment. “Why bother putting it face down? And why don’t I get a chance to change yours?”

“To add to the surprise, (L/N).” That’s what he always said. “And, my phone is off limits.”

That little sentence sparked an idea.

You had always been planning on telling Shinso about your harbored feelings. It was supposed to happen on Valentine’s day. However, you realized that it would look scripted and that he’d probably receive a few other chocolates. He was a good looking guy and when people saw how he had transferred to the Hero Course, that was enough for girls and guys to turn their heads with curious sparkling eyes.

Today was the day. You had changed your wallpaper into a gif that wrote out ‘I like you’. That might be enough for him to look at you and finally let you take the weight off your chest. It was taking too long for the bell to ring. When it did, you took your phone from your pocket and set the plan to start.

Placing it on your desk, you stared as the purple haired boy dragged his chair to sit closer to you. His tired eyes were accompanied by a lazy smile. His hand reaching out to grab your phone. Rolling your eyes, you let him be as you grabbed a book from your bag.

Unlocking your phone, his eyebrows jumped when he saw the wallpaper. You were still busy reading but that alone made his heart skip a beat. Blinking to himself, he thought that it was probably a prank and that his own feelings were not reciprocated. Probably.

Brushing the thought aside, he looked up a picture that would sum up his response. Once he was able to choose, he set it as your wallpaper. You were still busy reading your book. Not wanting to disturb you anymore, he stood up and walked towards Deku and his friends.

Not expecting his reaction, you waited till his butt was rested on the desk and his back facing you. Sure that he was engrossed in their topic, you took your phone and unlocked it. Your shoulders slumped when you saw the change of wallpaper.

It was a picture of All Might. With the caption saying 'Who doesn't like me?'.

“Failed attempt?” Denki teased as he sat on your desk.

“Shut it.” You pouted and pocketed your phone. “I thought the message was clear.”

“Or maybe he thought it was a joke? You know how his brain works. Probably thought it was some kind of plot for him to stop bugging you and your phone.”

“Ah shit.” Denki was right. “What can I do then? If random wallpapers won’t work, what will?”

“Do you guys have any pictures together?”

“Yeah. One.”

“Use that.” Your pikachu friend patted your shoulder and left you alone with your thoughts. Just in time for the bell to ring.

While waiting for the teacher, you scrolled down your gallery till you stopped at that one photo you had with Shinso. Hoping that it would work, you set it as your wallpaper and prayed for the best.

It had already been a few days and Shinso still wasn’t able to get that cursed image off his head. It was somehow fair that you would do that to bug him but it still stung nonetheless. Somehow he had developed the fear of taking your phone. He would capture you placing it on your desk, free for him to grab and yet he chose not to.

Today was now friday and the two of you had planned to go to a nearby cat cafe. Shinso walked by your side with your bag in his hand as well. Your mind wondered why he chose not to touch your phone, just when you saw the need for him to. Upon seeing the signage, you were relieved. The tension was a little drowning especially since it had been a silent walk from school.

Now that the cats were nuzzling on you, your eyes landed on Shinso. A black and white cat sleeping on his lap. A miniscule smile rested on his lips. Your heart ached and all you wanted to do was replace the cat. Damn. You were jealous of a cat. The sigh you let out was a little too loud.

His attention was now on you. Maybe he should just tell you his feelings now that you were alone with him. It had always made him wonder. He was always used to starting conversations, but when he realized he had developed feelings for you, he just froze and his mind would malfunction.

“Hey, Shinso…”

“What?”

Taking your phone out, you placed it in front of him. Not sure what you meant, he took the device and began to fidget with it.

“You, uh, you haven’t been changing my wallpaper these days.” Your cheeks burned at the thought of him finally seeing your wallpaper.

"Realized I was invading your personal space." He replied. Eyes lowering while his free hand caressed the napping. His heart beat ramming in his chest. Might as well say it now. If the Dekusquad told him he was blind of your affection then perhaps they were right.

"I miss you changing my wallpapers…" That was probably enough to let him unlock your phone.

Judging that it wasn't the best time to go all mushy, he nodded his head and scooted closer to you. Careful to not disturb the sleeping cat. When he was beside you, only mere inches apart, he unlocked the device. His breath hitched when he saw the picture.

“Is this a joke?” He now turned to face you. Shinso just couldn’t take it if you had wanted him to change the picture you two had together. “Look, if you wanted me to stop changing it you could just tell me rather than do this.”

Staring blindly into space, you internalized how blind he was.

“Hitoshi.” Your voice was a little sterner now. Yet, it was music to his ears. This would have to be the first time you called him by his first name. Looking down at the cats cuddling with you, a small pout formed on your mouth. “Do you not understand the messages I’m sending you? The gif from a few days ago? How my wallpaper is the only picture I have of us?”

“Shit.” Chuckling at his stupidity, he facepalmed himself. “I guess I let overthinking win this time.”

Stretching his arm, he gently brushed your cheek with his index knuckle. The reddish blush on your face gave him the needed confident boost. When his eyes met yours, he took his phone from his pocket and handed it to you.

“Change my wallpaper.”

A small smile began to form on the face. If this was what you think it was then it was all worth it. Frowning at the sight of his wallpaper, you threw the phone at his chest. Being met with a Beadpool wallpaper that said ‘Ligma’ was not what you expected.

But, the laughter that he gave you made you think otherwise. Seeing how his arms began to snake around you into a hug, you leaned on to the crook of his neck. His embrace was warm and comfortable, everything you had imagined it would be. His hand found its way to the back of your head. Feeling him softly petting you caused the butterflies to rampage.

“But seriously though? Ligma?”

“Could not waste an opportunity, (Y/N).” Gently pushing you away, just enough for him to look at you, he gave your cheek a quick kiss. The purple orbs you adored gleamed with excitement and playfulness at the reciprocation of his feelings. “But, feel free to check my gallery if you want.”

Handing you his phone back, you opened the gallery and giggled. Despite all the memes and cat photos, a few stolen pictures of you were scattered across the app. Sneaky bastard. No wonder he preferred not to let you hold his phone.

“Want to commemorate this day and take our second picture together?” He offered. Pulling you back to lean on him.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way~”

[omiscurls]

haikyuu!! characters and you making a playlist reminding you of them

featuring: sakusa kiyoomi, miya atsumu, suna rintarō and kageyama tobio 

kiyoomi

you left to make some tea, and left your phone in the room

it’s not like he was swooping through it! it was connected to a speaker so you didn’t turn it off, so you can easily change music

a song he really hates came on, so he decided to change it

he picked up a phone and realized, he doesn’t even know what to play

“what if I play something they won’t like” and all the dumb anxious thoughts started to flow through his mind

so he decided to play something from YOUR playlists! he’ll find something he likes, and it’ll be obvious you like the song, since it’s on your playlist. genius plan, right?

he started sliding the playlists until he found something that caught his attention

the title being a lyric from the song “Loverman” by Rick Montgomery

he entered it, thinking nothing in particular, but the caption below the title!

it said “I just miss my boyfriend, okay?”

wait... what? his brain didn’t process this correctly for a second

it felt so illegal to look through the songs in there, they seemed so private

he honestly felt the urge to put the phone down

but then he saw the most cheesy song he could think of

song being “18” by One Direction

you didn’t even listen to that band from what he recalled, yet it was there and he was familiar with the lyrics of it

he felt a weird drop in his heart, like a sudden wave of excitement, suddenly he couldn’t sit still

this didn’t occur often and he didn’t know how to act.

You came back to the room holding two cups of tea, the first sight being your boyfriend sitting unnaturally still and straight.

“You okay over there?” you asked softly, putting the cups on the table in front of you and giving him a small side glance.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he ask, eyes set or something in a completely different direction than your face.

You sat next to him and noticed that even though the same song was playing, your phone was in a completely different place than the one you left it in.

“Don’t you hate this song, Omi? Why didn’t you change it?” you asked, reaching for the device. Good thing you didn’t saw his eyes widen when he realized, he didn’t change the playlist he was looking at.

You were silent for an awfully long moment, eyes glued to the screen, while he was dying just two meters away. Were you gonna be mad? Sad? Disappointed? It would really be easier if you said something, he thought.

But then he started thinking about that playlist again. So you miss him, huh? That was a weirdly pleasuring fact, he didn’t know why. He was proud of himself for no reason.

But then he thought, were you really in need of a playlist like that? Maybe he was too distant, maybe he wasn’t enough boyfriend-ish?

The song he was looking at suddenly started playing, but it wasn’t enough for him to look up.

“You know, I listen to it every time you go for a game somewhere far, and you’re gone for a couple of days”

“It’s not possible to miss someone that quick” he replied almost immediately, as if he didn’t think about it before speaking. “At least to miss me that quick”

“Well, when you’re in love, it is” you replied, the grin on your lips so wide it could be heard in your voice. His heart skipped a bit. “And I have loved you since we were eighteen” you poorly sang the lyrics of the song, laughing immediately after, causing him to also smile a tiny little bit.

You rolled your eyes.

“Come on, Mr Insecure” you said, standing up and giving him your hand. “I always wanted to dance with you to this song.”

atsumu

you were sleeping before he came over, and you noted that you were to take a nap and that he could let himself in.

chill music was playing inside your whole place

it didn’t take long for him to find you draped over the sofa, a peaceful look on your face

you’ve been really stuck on work recently, so he was happy that you finally got some rest

however it wasn’t going to stop him

he located your phone and planned to wake you up by suddenly playing some metal music instead of the chill lo-fi in the background

it was gonna be “hilarious”

so he proceeded to unlock the phone and was about to enter search bar when he noticed the name of the playlist that was currently playing

“missing my dumbass” huh?

he just looked through the songs endlessly, even though there weren’t that many

huge smile subconsciously appeared on his face and suddenly he didn’t have the heart to wake you up

However he did lift your head really slightly and put it in his lap instead of the pillow instead.

So you were napping while he just stared at the songs in awe, somehow surprised by the fact that you could miss him

“City of Stars, huh? I remember when you made me sit through that movie” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “And when you tried to teach me the chords to that, too” he giggled “Guess it’s better when you play and I pretend to know how to sing”

He kept chuckling and smiling to himself about what he was finding, until he put the phone down and looked down at your asleep face.

“Look at you. You really love me!” he grinned, peacefully sure of what he was saying. Wow, you really did love him. Why was it so surprising? Why was he this shocked?

He always thought he had plenty faith in himself, but somehow when it came to you, he could never hear enough of your praise before he’d actually believe your confessions.

You woke up soon after to him playing with your hair, a mindless look on his face.

“I remember falling asleep somewhere else” you commented sarcastically, but he only smiled, his mind some place else. “What’s wrong, Tsumu?” you asked, concerned about his cheeky attitude being gone. You got half up and looked him in those absent eyes, but he only hugged you closer to him, resulting in your face being buried against his neck.

“I just missed you” he said, hardly overcoming his emotions. “A lot”

“Did you? That’s rare” you laughed, but noticed the song playing in the background. You distanced yourself from him enough to look him in the eyes with the deadpan, but low key amused look. “Or were you just looking through my phone like a crazy person?”

He rolled his eyes.

“It was a great plan, until ya decided to make me emotional!” his nicely covered accent was always showing more when he was trying to remain calm. It made you giggle.

“Aw, look at you, are you gonna cry?” you joked mockingly, causing him to look away in embarrassment. He lightly pushed you off his thighs onto the couch. “Hey!”

“Yer the worst” he said, walking to the kitchen to pour himself some water. “The WORST!”

“You’re just mad because I made you too flustered to make a flirty comeback!”

„Shut it!”

rintarō

this boy, oh my god

this boy has his own playlists for you

and he keeps them like a caged secret never to be exposed

seriously, he has a lock on his Spotify app

he’s secretly a sucker for all the romantic things like those couple playlists, photos of holding hands, that stuff

but he’d never, ever admit it, not even to you

so one day, you were at his place, and the Miyas, Kita and Aran were there, too.

His phone died, and it was connected to the speaker, as it always is, because

“you all listen to shit, I’m gonna choose something”

so when it died, he started aggressively poking your shoulder until you looked at him

“babe. baby. honey. y/n!”

“what, rin?” you finally reply, while in the middle of the conversation with Osamu

“Can i get your phone? music’s dead” he asks politely, and you nod mindlessly, while still paying attention to what Osamu was saying.

To be honest you didn’t even hear what you’re agreeing to, but soon he placed your phone in front of your face so you’d insert the password

You unlocked it, and he happily went over to the music app, while connecting it to the speaker

He was just gonna search for his playlist, but he forgot the phone isn’t his, and he needs to search it instead of just hitting “playlists”

But it was the first thing he mechanically did, and the first title he saw, was, drumroll please...

“it’s missing rin hours”

it’s what hours now? he could NOT believe his eyes

well well well, so he spent all this time hiding his Pinterest-like romantic dreams to himself, while you... had a playlist? to remind you of him?

he wanted to look. but he remembered how much he would be embarrassed if you were to look at his, so he decided not to

he just searched for his playlist and turned it on like nothing happened, but after handing you back the phone, he could not stop smiling

good think you were talking

Minutes passed, and the whole group was just chatting, eating and laughing, while the music was in the background, but Suna just sat back and didn’t pay attention to the conversation. Suddenly, he saw a palm right before his face, waving for his attention.

“Quit zoning out, Rin!” he heard your voice and looked over at you, and the amused smile on your lips. “Come on, we’re playing cards and nobody shuffles them like you do”

He simply nodded and proudly went over to the table, took his chair and started shuffling the cards in a truly “casino-like” manner, a confident smile never leaving his lips.

“What is it Suna, are you hiding all the good cards for yourself so you can win again?” Aran asked, and he just scoffed.

“Oh yeah, I remember we weren’t supposed to let him shuffle again!” Osamu joined.

“Yer a cheater, Suna, gimme that” Atsumu placed his hand in front of Rintarō, to make him surrender the cards faster.

“Please, you shuffle like a four year old” he bit back, already started to give the cards to people. “Alright what’re we playing?”

Suna was weirdly confident that night. Not that he was ever insecure, he just... acted more like Atsumu rather than like himself. It was weird to watch, honestly, but you didn’t mind, since he seemed happy. It was like this until you left, and you didn’t say a word, but as soon as you got to the car, you couldn’t bare to stay silent anymore.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“What’s supposed to be up?” he said, not even glancing over at you, eyes fixed on what was behind the vehicle, hand over the back of your seat, another one on the steering wheel, trying to leave the parking lot.

“What’re you so happy about?”

“What, can’t I be happy? That’s a rude thing to hear from my own s/o”

”You know what I mean” you whined, rolling your eyes.

“Do I?” He asked, and you started to get irritated with his responses, but before you could say anything, he just added “Maybe it’s just annoying my s/o hours”

After that, he simply smiled and focused on the road in front of him, leaving you to your own embarrassment, silently glancing to catch you get redder every time he looked.

tobio

this guy doesn’t have playlists on his own

he just listens to what he wants to, he searches it

so he’s really not in the subject when one day you’re in the shower when some weird music comes in

he just laughs at what the hell are you listening to?

and you say the playlist must’ve ended, and he can put on another one

okay but... where?

so you shout the instructions to just go to “your library”, pick one and just click shuffle

he does as you told, but- woah, why do you have so many?

he starts to go through them, but it’s really just pure chaos

up until he finds a playlist, named “don’t tell tobio but I miss him”

wow, the title makes it seem so private, he almost doesn’t want to ope-

oops, he opened it

and the songs there- it caught his heart from the very start

don’t get me wrong, he thinks they’re cheesy

but there’s something about them that makes his eyes feel hot all of the sudden

and you miss him? really? all this time he tried to be as distant and reserved as he could, so you wouldn’t think he’s clingy

and you-

he needed to sit down for a second

You came out of the shower, still with a towel wrapping your wet hair, when you noticed that a song you don’t know was playing, and Tobio sat on the couch with an uneasy expression.

“It’s not that hard to find it, you know” you said, walking over to him, about to take your phone away, but he quickly put it behind his back and looked up at you with an slight, tiny little grin.

“Gimme that”

“Nope”

“Why?”

“You have to come and get it” he said, moving back against the couch. You were shocked to the very core about his sudden confidence, and well, cheesyness, but what could you do, you sat in his lap and tried to get the phone from behind his back.

In the process, he started to tickle you, making you laugh, throw your head back, resulting in your towel falling to the floor.

“Stop, oh my gosh, just give me the- the- the phone!” you managed to say in between giggles.

When he finally stopped, your head was resting on his chest while you desperately tried to catch your breath.

“Sorry. I just wanted you to have a fun memory to think of while you miss me” he said teasingly, causing you to look up with a “how dare you” look on your face.

“So you-“

“Rewrite the stars? Really?”

You hit him on the chest

“Shut up you idiot”

“Awh, don’t act like that. You’re gonna miss it when I’m gone” he said in an over dramatic manner, looking away, and you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head.

“Drama queen”