#coach put him back on press duty AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

[scribble-of-stars]

I need neil josten to chew somebody out again like he did with riko so vehemently, no mercy to be found, he was locked and loaded within seconds. He took one look at riko and decided to ruin his ENTIRE LIFE without hesitation. I miss it. The antagonism of it all. Neil "I have a bit of an attitude problem" Josten was not only there to play stupid games, he was there to win those stupid prizes. And he sure won those stupid prizes and more.

[sapphire-writes]

the winner takes it all

Art x Reader x Tashi

summary: winners deserve rewards, and Tashi is more than happy to spoil her star athlete with the help of her ever-dutiful husband.

word count: 2.7k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: porn no plot (deep breath) m/f/f dynamic, threesome, dom!Tashi, switch!Art, sub!Reader, p in v, creampie, overstim, hair pulling, titty play, use of toys, praise, teasing, spanking, orgasm denial, oral (fem receiving), oral (reader giving fem), face sitting

note: hope you enjoy! my first non-HOTD related fic!

link to other stories from me!

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Your match had taken place several hours ago. You’d been anxious the entire time, but ended up winning, much to you and your coach’s pleasure. The ride back to the hotel was torturous, as well as the following mandatory ice bath, sauna, shower, and footage review. It was the routine you’d followed ever since Tashi began coaching you.

She was nothing if not thorough.

After tying up several loose ends, including Tashi grilling you for every point you missed, every fault she could see when she paused the footage, you now found yourself in a more pleasurable position. 

Art held your legs open as he continued his even thrusts, cock sliding against the walls of your pussy at a torturous pace. Tashi sat beside you, clad only in a silk robe and lace panties, brushing some hair from your face that was sticking to your forehead with perspiration.

You had the suite to yourself for the night. Tashi and Art’s little girl was safely tucked away with her grandmother in another elegant suite on the other side of the hotel. Another part of the routine. 

“Tash��.”

“You did well out there today,” she interrupts, reaching beside her to the end table drawer and pulling out her Hitachi wand. It buzzes to life as she turns it on and a strangled whine leaves your throat as she presses it to your clit,  “See what happens when you put in the extra time? That backhand of yours is a lethal weapon now.”

“Fuck!” is the only response you’re able to give as Art moans at the vibrations as he continues to pound into you. 

She likes you best like this, fucked dumb on Art’s cock, mindlessly agreeing to her plans for future matches, eyes rolling back in your head. Different moves she’ll have you practice. How hard she plans to work you on the court the following morning. 

“Come on, come for me,” Tashi insists, hand trailing over your breasts, “What’s my girl need to come, hm? Need these pretty tits attended to?” She pinches your nipple for emphasis and your jaw slacks, a pleasurable current in your gut winding tighter and tighter with the continuous stimulation.

Art slings your left leg over his shoulder, pressing a tender kiss to your calf as he does so. 

The new angle sends him deeper inside of you and you clench, mouth falling open with an uncontrollable moan.

“That’s it,” Tashi murmurs, eyes never leaving your face, “Feels so good doesn’t it? Art knows how to treat his girl, huh? Don’t you baby?”

“Yes,” he hissed between clenched teeth, beads of sweat forming on his brow, “Fucking perfect pussy, god—”

Tashi removes her hand from your breast, taking hold of your chin.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes water with pleasurable tears but you do as she asks, always keen to follow her instructions. The tennis court, the bedroom, it was all the same playing field in the end.

“Come on baby,” she murmurs, leaning down and pressing a kiss against your lips, “Come for me, you’ve been such a good girl, you deserve it.”

“Fuck!” Art courses as your pussy tightens around him, “Oh uhhh—”

“I’m cumming,” you helplessly whimper, the words nearly a sob, “Tashi…..fuck….Art fuck feels so—-“ your abdominal muscles tense as your reach your peak, white-hot ecstasy flooding your body as a shudder rolls through you. 

Tashi smiles as you come, fingers dancing down your neck. Art fucks you through it, leaning forward to pound into you at a harder rhythm, chasing his imminent release. It’s only then Tashi glances at him, her smile dropping slightly.

“Don’t cum.”

Art’s hips stutter as your walls continue to flutter around his thick length, his jaw slacks, eyes watering as he looks at his wife.

“Tash��”

“I said no,” she insists, shutting off the vibrator and throwing it to the side. Leaning forward, she captures your lips in a kiss. She sits up, a smile on her face as she kisses Art as well. He whimpers against her lips, hard and pulsating inside you still. But Tashi never changes her mind.

“You want to come, you should try winning.” 

“Tash please,” Art’s voice was strained, Adam’s apple bobbing, his expression pained, “please let me come.”

“Yeah?” She taunts moving up to kiss him. She brings her lips close to his, his eyes fluttering shut as she barely brushes the soft pout of her mouth against his. His lips part, head tilting to chase her. 

You watch from below them, still trying to slow your breathing. You like watching them dance, this push and pull they have. It’s hypnotizing, the effect she has on him. On you. Tashi pushes his chest and his eyes flutter open.

“Sit.” 

Tashi nods to the chair in the corner of the room. Art hesitates and she raises a brow when he doesn’t move quickly enough. Teeth clenched, Art unsheathes his aching cock from your warmth, hissing as he pulls completely out. Your breath hitches at the loss of him, and you gaze up at Tashi waiting for her next instruction. 

Fully naked, Art walks to the chair, cock hard and swinging between his legs as though he’s nothing more than a scolded pup. 

Tashi stands walking over to him, and Art tilts his chin to meet her eyes. Slowly, she lets the silk robe fall from her shoulders, and she takes her time removing it and placing it on his lap. You can see his erection through the soft purple fabric. 

“Hold that for me, would you?” she asks, turning back to face you.

You can’t help it as your gaze falls to her breasts; supple and mouth-watering, dark nipples taunting you. The dip of flesh between her abdominal muscles, a spot you’ve run your tongue along countless times now. Tashi rejoins you on the bed, lying next to you, looping her thumbs in the waistband of her lace panties. 

“You want a taste, baby?” she asks, smiling slightly at you.

You nod eagerly as she beckons you with a tilt of her chin. Scrambling into a kneeling position you slot yourself between Tashi’s toned legs, replacing her fingers and gently pulling off her lace panties, tossing them to the side and revealing her glistening sex.

Two things turn Tashi on. Telling you and Art what to do, and tennis.

Tashi brings her hand down her front tracing down her toned stomach until she reaches the soft curls that frame her pussy. She takes two fingers and spreads herself before you. 

“Come on, baby,” she murmurs, her voice low and seductive, “Eat up.”

She’s an enchantress, you swear, using some sort of siren song to pull you in. Even here between her legs, she’s in charge; it’s you who’s helpless. You lower your face toward her pussy, already drunk on the scent of her even before your tongue reaches her warm slit. 

You couldn’t hold in your moan of pleasured relief even if you tried as your tongue dipped lower, parting her lips and dipping inside her right entrance. There’s something about her, how she feels, how she tastes. You’ll never get enough of it. You nuzzle closer to her, nose bumping against her clit and she rewards you with a breathy sigh. 

“Art,” she calls as you eagerly continue lavishing her pussy with attention, “How’s the view?”

“Fucking breathtaking,” he answered, his voice strangled, “Tashi please….”

“She’s so good,” Tashi praises, nails taking against your scalp sending pleasurable tingles down your spine, “Put that pretty mouth of yours where it counts. Show me how badly you want it.” 

Your tummy flutters with excitement and you suction your lips around Tashi’s clit, sucking the sensitive button as you hear Art stand up. 

“Put that ass up,” Tashi instructs you, her voice airy, nearly breathless. You arch your back, leaning forward into her as Art’s hands cup the front of your thighs. 

You wiggle as he kneels behind you, his breath on your pussy before his lips meet your pussy. You moan against Tashi’s cunt as Art trails his hands up your thighs, spreading your cheeks wider as he feasts on you, tongue dipping inside of you and then up to circle your clit. 

“I’ll make you a deal baby,” Tashi purrs, back arching off the bed slightly as your tongue circles her pearl, “If you make her finish before I do, I’ll let you come.”

Art groans against you, finishing with a frustrated whine as Tashi chuckles. You glance up at her, drinking in the blissed-out expression on her face, that sly smirk that reaches her eyes. 

“Deal?”

Art doesn’t hesitate, he simply redoubles his efforts, tongue entering you with desperate precision. Your lips falter, the pleasure messing with your coordination as Art ups the ante. You feel him pull away from you, and hear the wet pop of his fingers entering his mouth and leaving just as quickly. Then he’s breaching you, fingers slipping inside you with ease from the continued attention following your first orgasm.

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as Art fingers you. He sets a rough pace, placing his opposite hand on your asscheek and squeezing the soft flesh. 

The two fingers he has plunged inside you to the knuckle curl perfectly against your spongy walls, hitting that sweet spot inside you every time he curls his fingers. 

“Come on,” Art murmurs, slapping your ass, “I know you want to come again.”

“Yes she does,” Tashi agrees, unable to help herself. 

“Greedy girl, never satisfied with just one, huh?” Art teases and Tashi chuckles at his efforts. Art never speaks to her like that, only you. Tashi prefers the more dominant role over both you and her husband.

Still eager to please her you sloppily continue eating her out, lost in the sensation of Art's fingers in your pussy, Tashi’s fingers in your hair—

“Come on baby,” Art encourages, though there’s a hint of desperation in his tone. He wants to come just as badly as you do.

“Such a messy girl,” Tashi coos, propping herself on her elbows, “Oh but so so good. I’m getting close…”

Art slaps your ass again, curling his fingers against your g-spot, and it’s no use. Your jaw slacks and your head lolls against the softness of Tashi’s inner thigh as your walls clench around Art’s fingers, your release barreling through you like a freight train. It knocks the air from your lungs, a desperate cry leaving you as Art makes a noise of triumph. 

“So you are capable of winning,” Tashi snaps, a little too cold to be simply a bedroom taunt. Art stares at her, before she sits up, “I haven’t come yet.”

“Let me,” you murmur, looking up at her, still lying on her thigh. She smiles down at you, stroking your cheek.

“You’re a sweet girl,” she praises, “But Art won. I think he deserves to finish in that sweet little pussy of yours. Would you like that?”

“Tash…I can’t,” you whimper, still sensitive and tingly from your previous orgasms, “I can’t come again.”

Her smile fades back to that familiar smirk. She glances at Art, nodding at the bed. Cock still standing at attention Art joins you both, lying on his back. Tashi’s hand winds its way in your hair, tugging you not so gently from your resting place. You follow her lead like a puppet on a string. 

“Don’t be ungrateful,” she accuses, pushing you towards Art’s lap, “This is a reward. You deserve this.”

Art’s cock pokes at the soft plush of your inner thighs as you straddle him. His hands move automatically towards your hips, rough thumbs brushing against you leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

He looks at you with wide, watery eyes, blonde hair a tousled mess.

“One more?” he asks, and you know at that moment if you tapped out, he’d respect it. Art was never one to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form. 

He rubs your hips again, a soothing motion, and you lean into his touch. Something deep inside you tightens with want. You need him. You need her. You inhale a shaky breath and lift your hips, lining the swollen head of his cock with your entrance. Sinking onto him slowly like this is something else. The way he stretches your insides as you come to rest against him is a feeling you’ll never get used to. 

“Good girl.”

Art’s head falls back against the pillows and then Tashi pulls them from underneath him. Her husband knows immediately what she’s after and tilts his head back as she climbs onto his face. 

Tashi sits on her husband’s face as though it’s her throne. As though he was made for her and no one else. 

She pulls you closer as you lazily begin to ride Art. Lips crashing against yours she kisses you passionately, rolling her hips at the pace you began. Soon you find your rhythm, moving in sync together as Art moans beneath you, happy to pleasure both his girls at once. Tashi’s hand finds your hair again and she tugs your head back, latching her lips against your neck.

She’s fond of leaving marks. Art is hers through their marriage, but she likes to remind you that you belong to her as well. 

Art bucks his hips up into you, the head of his cock nudging perfectly against your sweet spot, just as his fingers had moments before. A whine leaves your lips and Tashi laughs against your neck. 

“He’s good at that, yeah?” she murmurs, placing soft kisses up your neck and returning to your lips, “Good with his cock, good with his…his tongue.” Her eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy as Art does something you can only imagine.

He moans again, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise as he decides the pace you’ve set simply isn’t enough. Art’s hands dip below the curve of your ass right where it meets your thighs, lifting you with ease up and down on his cock. He meets you halfway, thrusting up into you as he slams you up and down. 

Your whines increase in volume, turning into elongated moans swallowed by Tashi’s kiss. You can feel her nipples pressing against your own and you reach out to caress them. Tashi gyrates her hips on Art’s face and his pace becomes more frantic as he plants both feet on the mattress fucking up into you harder, faster, deeper.

“I—” 

Words are lost to you as your mind goes fuzzy; that familiar pressure in your gut builds, a wave of pleasure cresting deep within you. Tashi’s mouth captures yours once more as she snakes a hand down your front, nimble fingers circling your clit giving you just what you need to reach your end. Again.

With that the rubber band in your belly snaps and you come with a startled cry, pleasured tears leaking from the corner of your eyes as you clench around Art’s thick cock. His hips falter only for a moment as he chases his own release, and soon you feel his cock twitch within your warm walls, his spend blooming inside of you.

Tashi smiles proudly as you and Art ride out your highs, the pair of you moaning, limbs jerking from the exertion. Everything’s a game to her. And she always wins. 

“Just like that,” she murmurs, hips still swirling around Art’s face, “Oh god I’m—” 

You watch as her thighs tense, her head dips and her eyes squeeze shut as her orgasm crashes over her at last. 

Carefully you ease Art’s softening cock from within you and lay between the both of them. Tashi on your left, Art on your right. You’re facing Tashi, watching as she comes down from her high, feeling Art’s chest press against your back.

It’s quiet for a moment, the soft sound of a kiss being pressed to your shoulder the only noise in the room. Art snakes a hand around your waist, fingers brushing the soft skin of your tummy. You giggle slightly at the ticklish sensation which causes him to bite down gently on your shoulder. Tashi simply watches, wetting her lips. 

“On the courts at five tomorrow,” she says, before standing, “I’ll run us a bath.”

Art sighs and you can’t help but agree with his subtle frustration. Back to business.

“Whatever you say, coach.”

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected 🩵

[st4rbwrry]

   𝐹𝐸𝐸𝐿 𝒮𝒪𝑀𝐸𝒯𝐻𝐼𝒩𝒢.

꒰ eren’s really sore from football practice and you give bby a massage. ꒱

🫧 𐀔 . . . 3.1k, fem!reader, lowercase intended, body betrayal, submissive eren + whimpers a lot, established consent aka cnc, dry humping, pain kink, eren’s pathetic fr, oral ꒰ m + f ꒱, handjob, love bites, choking, ‘daddy’ said once, creampie, rennie’s embarrassed :( , minors aren’t welcomed! comments + reblogs are appreciated!

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ꒱ . . . listened to the nastiest, filthiest sub va audio and babyyyyy, woooo! never been so turned on in my life.

“ughhhhhhh!”

you can hear the painful groans a mile away erupting from the bathroom, eyes peaked over your glasses after you spun around to investigate the suspicious sound. you’re perched up into your soft pink swivel chair where you sat cross legged and comfortably zoned out into an intense mission of call of duty, trying your best not to drool over ghost and konig. the curved monitor in front of your face brightly lit, feminine colors fading in and out from the lights planted around your pc set up. kawaii kitten headphones covering your ears muffling your surroundings.

knocking them off of your ears, you’re able to hear the shower running loudly, the noise cancellation blocking out any movement around you. there’s only one person who could be in your shower right now, and he revealed himself before you could come to the thought. steam flows towards the ceiling as the bathroom door swings ajar, your boyfriend’s sandalwood soap illuminating the room while steam levitates off of his tanned, tatted skin. a pout seeps into your expression when you see the softness in his face, every step he takes towards your bed shoots excruciating discomfort through his muscles.

“baby!” you stand to your feet, the warmth in your chest to see his presence heightening, but the worry in your eyes overtaking all. “what’s wrong, ‘ren?”

“mhmmmm,” he only groans, a towel around his neck and his skin only covered by basketball shorts as he flops face forward onto your bed, hissing from the aches and spasms. accidentally shoving your plushies out of his face and onto the floor from clear irritation.

sometimes forgetting he had a key to your apartment, you’re reminded of him telling you he was coming to see you after practice, overworking himself to the brink of death these past few weeks considering draft season was up and coming. eren needed to make a good impression, and him being an overachiever, it caused his body to slowly deteriorate. waking up at the break of dawn to gulp down green juices and muscle powder before he’s running around his neighborhood for two hours. then he’s going to the field after classes for extreme training with coaches who considered him a son. people who are in his ear constantly worshiping his achievements, including his family — pressuring him to be great. to be something.

the air in the room is cold, and it’s a serenade to his body, like icy hot. he releases a heavy sigh from his pillowed lips as he rests on his stomach in agony.

“i’m so sore, baby!” eren practically whines, the muscles on his toned back shifting as he reaches for a pillow to elevate his head. any small movement is like absolute hell. “fuck, i fucked up.”

“awee, ‘ren. i told you that you needed to slow down.”

sitting beside him on the bed, your knees sink into the memory foam, looming over his figure, putting on your motherly face. relaxing your shoulders, you bury your hands between your thighs, observing him to see what he needed.

“you’ll be limping to the ceremony if you keep this up. there’s only one more game, love.”

“yeah, and it has to count. they’ll be looking at my highlights and shit, and i need to be in their top list,” eren turns his face to look in your direction, his brown hair tied into the back of his head, slightly damp. “once i’m drafted i’ll take a break.”

“okay,” you leave it at that, knowing he’ll pursue a whole rant if you pressed any harder. it kills you to see him hurt, but you know in the end it’ll pay off. you didn’t have faith in him for nothing. “want me to massage you?”

“ooh, yea baby, please,” eren wants to clap to show his appreciation, but can barely move his upper body. he’s clutching a pillow tight to his cheek, lashes kissing his cheekbones with his pretty verdurous irises shield behind lids. lips upturned and his bushy eyebrows furrowed when your hands apply pressure to the back of his calves, kneading the skin with your thumbs gently. “thank you.”

a soft smile tugs on your full lips, glasses slipping down the bridge of your nose as you focus on making him feel better. “you’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“coach had me doing fucking agility courses today, it feels like my entire body is boiling with lava.”

“how’d you even make it up the stairs?”

the warmth of your palms soothed his body, aside from the horrible pain running through him from every touch, you made it a little better. eren whimpers softly the higher your hands go, reaching his lower back now, leaning over him some more to reach his tough spots. he nearly forgets to answer, his knuckles turning white and the veins on his hands leading up to his forearm protrude the harder he grips onto the pillow before him.

“nng, fuck,” he gasps out, muffling his sounds slightly by the cotton stuffed fabric, shifting his hips the deeper the pads of your thumbs sink into his hips, dainty fingers feathering along his skin, blood unbeknownst to you, rushing to his dick. those happened to be his sweet spots. “higher baby, please.”

he says it mostly out of panic, and you oblige, smoothing your hands flat on his back to rub there, beauty marks littered on the canvas. “you didn’t answer me.”

“sorry,” he groans when your hands come to his shoulders, applying pressure with the carpal bone of your hand, dragging straight down to his forearms with your stomach laying on his back. smelling your aroma and feeling the softness of your inner thighs. he blushes, hating his body for reacting the way it is currently. “i-i climbed up the stairs. was hunched over the entire walk to the door.”

“flip over for me.”

“shit. m’so weak right now,” eren mumbles frustratingly, trying his very best to turn his full frame, reaching out for your hand to help. you interlink your arms with his, as if giving him a hug, chest on his to flip him onto his back and position him comfortably. it felt like you were his damn caretaker.

“your knees hurt, baby? have you been wearing your knee pads?”

“mhm hmm, yea. i try to stretch a little before i run in the mornings. sometimes i . . . forget,” the salvia in his mouth glides down his throat as he swallows, seeing your spine arched and the darkly inked butterfly tattoo on your lower back as you focus on rubbing on his knees, and up his quadriceps. “unh, shit.”

“right there?” your tone is soft when you speak, doe eyes attentive when you look up at him and it makes his dick grow semi-hard.

“yes, it’s good, mama.” goddamit. he isn’t trying to sound like it’s obvious he’s turned on right now. he’s literally in too much pain to do anything to you, at least the way he wants.

you hike his shorts up for further access, massaging into the tissue to alleviate the discomfort, eren’s head knocking back as he hisses and grips onto the sheets. you watch him deliriously, trying to ignore the throb of your clit from the visual before you. but he’s making it impossible from the noises he makes. it’s not new, you’ve heard him whimper and moan before when he’s fucking you, but it’s rare when it sounds this . . pathetic. his pain shouldn’t arouse you, but it does.

your face is dangerously close to his dick, your black prescription glasses slipping even further as you try to block out the sounds he’s making by working your hands into his frail muscles. you make it back to his hips which stutter from your delicate touch, trying to hide your smirk when he whines helplessly. he’s breathing heavily, biting down on his lip as he covers his eyes with his right forearm, trying to hide his embarrassment. you’re pawing at his chest now, throwing your leg over his waist and sitting on his abdomen, feeling his dick on your ass cheek.

“fuck, what are you doing?” eren stares at you immediately, brows furrowed as you knead at his biceps, smoothing your hands up to his wrists you grip and eventually pin down to the bed above his head.

“making you feel better,” you pout, lifting your lower body to scoot your ass back and foment your pussy onto him, the subtle gasp leaving his mouth like a symphony. “you’re hard.”

“wait, baby,” eren whines again, struggling to fight the entrapment that you have on his wrists, too weak and sensitive to fight you on it. “i can’t right now. i’m too sore.”

“just lay there,” you tell him, gyrating your hips and rubbing yourself over the fabric of his shorts, barricaded by your silk black ones. his eyes glower at you, mouth going ajar and out comes another desperate whimper. “i need it. you sound too pretty.”

“baby, please. this is so embarrassing,” he goes to shimmy free, but whines from any sharp pain hitting him, entwining your fingers to hold hands as you arch over him, leaving a delicate kiss to his lips.

“you don’t want me?” you ask, batting your lashes as you roll your hips a little faster, humping your clit onto the swell of his dick. you moan, burying your face within the crook of his neck to slick your tongue over his flesh, the slow dragging making his dick pulsate.

“i-it’s not that, god,” he’s heaving now, afraid he’s going to break under you. physically, not possible. but mentally? yeah. he’s not usually the submissive one, so this was a bit out of character. “stop grinding your . . pussy on me.”

now his voice is really breaking, his moans growing high pitched and his whines dragged out and subby. you felt a high you never felt before, being the one to dominate is a rarity. it was a small conversation the two of you had briefly, but never did you think he’d actually let you pursue it. taking the lead felt too good.

“but i w’na grind my pussy on you,” you’re moaning in his ear now, eren’s turning his head to the opposite side to let you sink your teeth into his neck, leaving love bites while he groans. he couldn’t keep his composure with you. “you need to be in pain more. you sound too good. i’m so horny now.”

“you have issues,” he shakes his head, gasping when you nip at his adams apple before kissing it. licking your lips and humming, beginning to hear the squelch of your pussy in the silent room.

“you gave them to me.”

eren doesn’t even realize that his arms are free now, laying limp beside his head as he watches you crawl down his thighs to pull his dick free from his shorts, wrapping your hand around his dick that practically stretches over the shape of your face. it’s leaking precum, and you waste not a drop of it, slapping the head of his dick on your tongue. his fingers are grasping the sheets again, stationed beside his waist and watching you swallow half of him into your mouth.

“baby — damn,” his stomach caves in when he hits the back of your throat, esophagus forcing itself to laminate his dick with more saliva. he’s completely devoted to you, staying still and letting you work. if he had the strength he’d lift his hips and fuck your throat till you’re gagging. “shit. shit, i love being in your mouth.”

you moan around him, twisting your wrist at the base while sucking on what you could, his dick fat and blowing up your cheeks. his eyes fall shut to listen to how you take him, pink lips parting with his eyes drooped in pleasure. you get him wet enough for extra lubricant, popping your mouth free and removing your shorts. he licks his lips at your glistening entrance, your white toes touching his leg as you spread your legs next him to finger yourself open. pretty hair cascading over your features in dark curls, slurping up saliva in your mouth as you stare darkly at him while you grind sensually onto your two fingers.

“c’mon, baby. don’t be mean,” eren groans, hand reaching for your ankle to use whatever strength he gained to drag you closer. “lemme see. c’mere.”

whimpering yourself, you scoot closer to his face, gripping at the edge of the bed as he clutches your ankle, the good bracelet with his initial on it swinging. everything else in his body hurt, even his dick ached now and it was your fault for being so fucking sexy. one thing he could use to his full ability was his mouth, and as soon as your folds are spread wider by your fingers, that’s when he’s kissing at your clit. puckered lips sucking and pulling at her with fervor, jaw widening and clenching as his tongue dips into your hole and he begins bobbing his head, the lewd, downright filthy sounds of your pussy creaming on his tongue.

“ooh, eren,” a squeak lets out, your eyes almost falling shut and drowning your vision. the moans from the both of you are guttural, flowing in sync nearly. he’s sucking on your clit like it’s a pacifier, cocking his head back to spit on her before grunting and flicking vigorously. savoring your taste on his tongue.

your hand goes to wrap back around his dick, spitting in your hand after a prolonged moan and jerking him off, the wet sounds ricocheting off the walls.

“ahh, fuck. oh my . . god,” the moans only grow louder from you, face screwed up the faster his mouth moves. jaw shifting even quicker and you match his pace with your hand, making sure to stay near the tip to watch his hips twitch and hear him moan. “i’m g’na cum, ‘ren.”

“unt unt, sit on my dick, baby,” he immediately removes his mouth, licking his lips and laying on his back again. “you wanna tease me, so fuck me.”

your legs tremble as you crawl above him, knees indenting the bed on either side of his waist, looking behind yourself to hold his dick still and slowly slid yourself down. the stretch is always good, adjusting by now after extensive training, aka eren literally making you lay there and take it inch by inch until it fit and felt right. his dick fully sinks into you, your knees buckling instantly from the fullness, hoisting yourself up by clutching onto his legs behind you.

“f-fuck!” it vibrates through your body, that euphoric wave that he’s sucked into your own. sexual chemistry, soul tie if you will. your knees interfere, making your pussy squeeze tight and eren can do nothing but clasp onto his own angelic hair, his tatted forearm with a cuban link on his wrist killing your clit. hair long fallen out of it’s tie.

“she looks so pretty like this,” eren hums, sucking on his lip before spanking the outside of your thigh hard, trying to coax you into moving. “lemme see her suck me in and out.”

rolling your lips inward, you moan as you raise and drop your ass down, skin interacting loudly with his own. eren hisses with rouse, drinking in the view of your juices coating his cock, dripping in fact. the visual evidence of him splitting you open as you rock on him to fuck yourself makes his brain explode, unable to choke his moans down. tossing your head back, he studies the art of contour. your neck, chin, and nose. the curves, the area of fat on your tummy . . . you are beauty divine. and you’re so damn hot.

“you’re so damn hot,” it’s spoken the same way he thought it, perhaps with more vigor.

you feel yourself getting close, so you lean yourself forward and get ahold of his wrists again, that red tint coming back to his cheekbones. your body is flat to his, and you listen to your wet pussy glide up and down as you drop your ass back heavily, his strong thighs hitting it. you’re breathing into his mouth when he goes to kiss you, your pace getting harder and you hear him whimper again and again. the pain and pleasure mixing. that soreness in his body fucking with him, but serenading you.

“fuckin’ get it,” eren grunts in a hushed tone, his words persuading you to bounce harder, making it sloppy and incredulously loud. “get it, baby. make a mess. f-fuckk . . unh.”

“oh my god,” the noise you make is a mixture of disbelief and arousal, shaking above him while he throws his head back into the pillow exposing his gorgeous neck, silver chain sprawled intricately within the contours of his neckline. he’s driving you absolutely insane. “keep moaning like that, baby. it’s so good. i can’t.”

“you g’na fuck it till it hurt, too? you like hearing me in pain that bad?” he locks eyes with you again, body trembling with pathetic whines leaving his throat.

“y-yess, love it,” you admitted, swirling your ass and riding him faster, tears brimming your sockets. “you’re so pretty, daddy. you’re hitting my spot.”

he watches as you keep yourself where you want, his dick curved into that sweet part making your eyes gloss white, grinding harder while digging your nails into his wrist, mouth agape and precious broken moans escaping. that pressure in your tummy bursts, and you’re cumming while still fucking him, squealing and crying as you drench his pelvis. that sends eren to overdrive, muttering a stream of expletives before he’s nearing his orgasm not long after.

“ooh, shit. get up, get up. i’m finna cum.”

“n-no,” you add more of your strength to overpower him, keeping him flat to the bed as you lean up and roll your hips. he looks up at you with warning, your gushy walls sucking him in the more you clench and cum. batting your lashes as his hands wriggle in your grasp, upper body shifting from being overwhelmed with ecstasy. “fill me up.”

“awe, fuck me, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck!”

whimpers, shaky moans, and whines. they’re all playing a part in how he releases and makes you cum again as he’s cumming, screaming in the air as he fights through his aching body to spank your ass fervently. filling you up like you cried for. his noises are dry, like they’re fighting to get out. coming out in weak, fucked out, high pitched grumbles and keens. almost like he’s in goddamn heat. it’s all so hot. he hates his body for the ultimate betrayal of submission. but also, hates to admit he fucking loved it. excruciating pain aside.

“get off me,” eren heaves, swallowing from a dry mouth and his excessive moaning. “please, baby. i can’t take it. i’m sore. i’m asking nicely.”

smiling, you wrap your hand around his neck before sticking your tongue out to glide over his lips, tasting him and begging for entrance, giving him a nasty, overjoyed kiss.

“i’ll give you another massage, sexy.”

© 𝑠𝑡4𝑟𝑏𝑤𝑟𝑟𝑦 . all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life.♡

[strongestseed]

Arnolds 77 Lessons

1. Everything starts with vision. You have to see it before you can achieve it. You will never regret the time you spend to develop a very clear vision. When I say clear, I mean so clear that it plays in your mind like a movie. Before I stepped on a bodybuilding stage, I saw myself standing on the podium holding the trophy. It was like a memory — one that just hadn’t happened yet.

2. Put down your phone. Let your mind wander. I had all the time in the world. We didn’t have a television. We didn’t even have a telephone. My only escape from boredom was disappearing into my own thoughts and dreams. I was lucky. You aren’t. You have a machine in your pocket that can tell you everything about the world. Put it down. Don’t let it tell you who you want to be. Let your mind do that.

3. If you don’t see your vision right away, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. It’s normal. You need to explore, try new things, read, meet new mentors, learn. You need to…

4. Be curious. Read books. Read magazines. Watch documentaries. Find a subject that gets you going and dive in as deep as you can. If your vision isn’t clear, curiosity is your best bet. Even when it becomes clear, never stop learning.

5. Decide who — not what — you want to be. Make your vision a part of your identity. Don’t say, “I want to be fit.” Say, “I want to be the type of person who can keep up with my kids and grandkids,” or “I want to be the person who everyone looks at on the beach.”

6. Don’t worry about your motivation sounding silly. When I talk to people in the gym, I hear all kinds of motivations. Some people get motivated to prove their naysayers wrong. Some people get motivated to look good for potential partners. Nothing that keeps you moving forward is too silly.

7. Make sure you know the why behind your next move. I hear from people all the time, “I’m finishing college, and I don’t know what I want to do yet, so I’m going to law school or graduate school.” There are fantastic reasons to go into debt for law school or grad school, but you better know who you want to be. If you want to be the next great constitutional lawyer protecting democracy in front of the Supreme Court, or if you want to fight for justice for underserved people, I could go on and on. If you know why you want to continue your education, your tuition becomes an investment. But if you don’t have the “why” yet, suddenly, that debt isn’t an investment but a burden. Instead of doing something that fulfills you, you’ll spend your life doing whatever it takes just to pay those bills.

8. I hear from a lot of people in their 40s and 50s who have a great family and have found success in their profession, but they still feel that they are missing something. They always ask me if it’s time to look for a new vision. I tell them before they leave behind their job, spend some time giving back. Volunteer to coach kid’s sports. Tutor at an after-school program. Feed people at a homeless shelter. Find some way to give back. I think that 40 to 50-year-old itch isn’t always a sign that you need to change your life completely. Often, I think it’s your mind realizing that you’ve become successful, and you have a responsibility to help others because…

9. None of us make it alone. I am not a self-made man, even though I came to America without any money. Claiming I made it on my own would mean disrespecting my parents, the mentors and early coaches, the training partners and friends like Franco, and every single person who reached out and gave me a hand when I needed it. No matter who you are, someone helped you or laid the groundwork for you along the way. Once you accept that, you can see the tremendous responsibility that comes with it. You have a duty to help the next generation.

10. Your vision will grow and change throughout your life. I love the story of Sir Edmund Hillary, the first person to climb Mount Everest. The press asked him about the view at the top, and he told them that he saw another peak he’d never seen before and started planning how he’d climb that mountain. When you find success, more doors will open. You can find yourself passionate about something you would have never imagined 20 years earlier. Because the truth is…

11. The joy is not in the victory or in standing at the top of the mountain. The joy is the work that gets you there. If you think that the success you envision is the key to happiness, you’re going to be very disappointed when you achieve it. Once you learn to love the work, you’ll never have to worry about being happy or fulfilled because there is always work to be done.

12. Reps, reps, reps. You might think you only do reps in the gym, but repetitions are the key to life. Whether you want to improve at speaking in public or reading books or just eating better, you will need to do reps. Whatever you work at, it becomes easier and less uncomfortable with every rep you do.

13. Discomfort isn’t a sign to stop, it’s a sign to keep going. Being uncomfortable means you are growing. In the gym, your muscles and strength don’t grow from the first 10 easy, fast reps. They grow from the last 2-3 hard and slow reps. It’s the same with everything in life. Learning something new isn’t supposed to be easy. Doing something you’ve never done before will always be hard.

14. If you can make discomfort your friend, you will find that most limits you’ve placed on yourself or others have placed on you are totally fake.

15. Start small. Do one rep of something that takes you out of your comfort zone every day. The more reps you do, the easier it will become to be comfortable being uncomfortable.

16. There is nothing more comfortable than sitting on the couch watching some great TV. But nobody ever changed their life or changed the world from their couch.

17. Train your mind and your body. The Romans had a saying: Mens sana in corpore sano. A healthy mind in a healthy body. One of my earliest mentors, the first person to really encourage my weightlifting dreams, was a local politician named Fredi Gerstl. Fredi supported our weightlifting club and helped us get the equipment that we needed. All he asked for in return was that we train our minds as much as we trained our bodies. He gave us the classic Greek and Roman texts and talked through them with us. Since he encouraged our physical training, we were more than willing to train our minds with him. There is also a lesson in that…

20. If you don’t love failure, how can you love success? It’s the failures and the struggles that give our success meaning. Why would you care about winning if you didn’t know what it felt like to lose?

21. Many people overestimate the risk of failure and let their fear hold them back. In most cases, if you really assess the risk, you’ll see that your fear is overblown. If you fail to get the promotion you want, you won’t be homeless. You’ll just be right where you are right now. If the furthest you can fall is your current status quo, what are you afraid of?

22. Your mind will also exaggerate the embarrassment of failure. It’s important to be honest with yourself about this. First, very few people will know you failed. Second, anyone who knows you failed and takes joy in it — schadenfreude — wasn’t going to cheer for your success anyway, so why do you care what they think?

23. There will always be people who doubt you, who root against you. Let them. You have your vision, and you know the work it will take to bring the vision from your mind into the real world. So ignore the naysayers.

24. Or, if it helps you, use them as fuel. Do the work to prove them wrong.

25. You will find out throughout your life that your own mind can be your greatest enemy. It can be your biggest naysayer. Learning to

30. Don’t bottle anything up. When you feel grief, let it out. When you feel love, let it out. Anything you hold in and bottle up will eventually find a way out, and the longer you wait, the bigger the pressure becomes. Don’t let it become an explosion.

31. Tell people what they mean to you now. I’ve always hated that everybody stands up at a funeral and gives a beautiful eulogy but they didn’t share those thoughts when the person could hear them! I started a new tradition. You might not know this, but every newspaper pre-writes the obituaries for well-known people. Some newspapers have even asked to interview me for my own obituary! It sounds morbid, but it gave me an idea. When one of my dear friends was facing terminal cancer, I knew that I would write a eulogy. Instead of waiting, I did it early. I was able to share it with her before she left us. It was so meaningful that I’ve done the same thing for friends and mentors who are getting older. Trust me — tell them what they mean to you now, and you won’t regret it. Don’t save your thoughts until it’s too late for them to hear them.

32. One thing you learn as you get older is that none of us will get to live forever. It sucks. The older you get, the more death you see. Parents, siblings, friends, mentors. It can seem cruel that the reward for living a long life is outliving so many people that made your life what it is. But I’ve always found comfort in realizing that none of the people who die are gone. They’re with us every day. I once heard a pastor at a church say that they’re like ships sailing out of the harbor. Yes, at some point, as they get past the horizon, we can’t see them anymore. But that doesn’t mean they’re gone. I don’t think we ever lose the people who pass away. They stay with us every day, in our memories, but also in the way they shaped our lives. call it Mickey Mouse. But, I was always willing to try it out. I remember Vince Gironda, who owned one of the biggest bodybuilding gyms in LA, showed me this side-lying deltoid exercise with a light dumbbell. Of course, I called it Mickey Mouse, but then I did a bunch of sets to test it for myself. The next day, I couldn’t move my arms. They were so sore that the Mickey Mouse exercise became a staple for me. It is very easy to look at someone who thinks differently or does things differently than you and just decide they’re wrong. That’s the comfortable path. Why not just try their way? What’s the worst that can happen? If you act like you’re a scientist doing an experiment instead of like a televangelist who knows it all, then you’ll confirm some of your beliefs, but you’ll also challenge others and learn new ones.

35. Surround yourself with people who think differently than you. In the age of social media, it’s easier than ever to build your own chamber and protect yourself from ideas you don’t agree with. Don’t do it. When I became Governor, I appointed almost as many Democrats as Republicans to be part of my administration. Some of the Republicans I appointed were much more conservative than I was. I appointed more women than any Governor before me and more minorities. I didn’t do that so people would praise me. I did that because I know how a white Republican man thinks. I don’t need people to tell me that. I need people around me to fill in my blind spots because the job isn’t to be the Governor of all the white Republican men in California. The job was to be the Governor for 40 million Californians who all think differently and come from different backgrounds. Having people who thought differently than me around the table helped create lively debates, and those debates resulted in out-of-the-box ideas to serve the people. If you’re only talking to people who agree with you, you’re missing out on at least 50% of the brainpower available.

36. Don’t fall for the “Yes Man” trap. The more successful you become, the more people will want to massage your ego. Your true friends and mentors and advisors will be willing to push back. Encourage it. Every big decision can benefit from debate. In fact…

37. Do a “murder board” before your big decisions. I do this for any big interview, press tour, or appearance. You can do it before job interviews or presentations. Get together a couple of people you trust. Tell them to ask you every single question they can possibly imagine. Hard questions, crazy questions. Answer them. When you have trouble with one, talk through it with them, and then try it again. This way, when it’s time for the real thing, nothing can take you by surprise. I told you: reps, reps, reps.

38. Sometimes, everything matters. My team sometimes makes fun of me because I will notice little things like one light bulb out of a hundred that needs to be changed or a spot on the carpet. I believe that getting the little things right is the low-hanging fruit, and if you don’t do it, you risk getting sloppy and taking shortcuts when it really does matter. When you can control something, it doesn’t matter how small it is. It matters because you have the power to change it. And every time you change something when you have the power, that’s a rep to remind yourself you can create change. It’s a rep to remind yourself the shortcuts just cheat you. It’s a rep to remind yourself to get the basics right.

39. Sometimes, nothing fckin’ matters. There are other times that my team makes fun of me because I am so relaxed. We will come to someone else’s event where I’m supposed to speak, and they’ll tell me they’re sorry, but we don’t know when I’ll be on stage. I say, “It doesn’t fckin matter.” Because it doesn’t. We don’t have control. Trying to control something we can’t will only make all of us stressed out, and that won’t help anybody.

40. In fact, most of the time, nothing matters. Focus on the basics. Focus on what you can control. Nothing else matters. I will have people who have never worked out in their life come up to me and ask, “Should I do a push-pull split, or a bodybuilding split, or full body workouts?” I say, “It doesn’t matter. Anything is more than you’re doing now. Just do something.” People will ask about supplements to help their diet when all they eat is processed food. It doesn’t matter. Get the basics right!

41. Don’t major in the minor. There are so many people who worry about the last 5% so much that they never start working on the first 95%. Which supplements should I take? Which workout is optimal? Which diet is best? If you haven’t gotten the basics in order — training routinely and eating mostly real food — you’re wasting your time. Approximately 95% of your results will come from a basic foundation of training and good food. 

42. Don’t optimize. Just start. Stop your research. It’s how you procrastinate. Most of the time, we all know what we need to do. This is where our brains become our enemies. Instead of just starting, our brains tell us we need to research and find the perfect plan, so instead of doing some squats and pushups and drinking a protein shake, we can sit in front of a screen reading about the perfect diet while eating a donut.

43. Don’t let perfect be the enemy of progress. I know a lot of people who will start a workout plan that’s supposed to be every other day, and then as soon as something comes up and they miss a day, they give up. You’re never going to be perfect. None of us are. Just accept it. Progress is about moving forward. So you can only do two workout days this week instead of three? That’s still progress compared to zero workouts. Just keep moving forward.

44. Show up—for yourself, for others, just show up. The biggest difference between successful people and everyone else is that successful people get up over and over again when they fall and just keep showing up. Giving up has killed more dreams than failure ever will.

45. Follow through. Don’t start things you don’t finish. Follow through to the end, and then follow through and make sure everything worked. When I was Governor, there were horrible fires in San Diego, and thousands of people had to be evacuated to their football stadium. Everyone immediately felt the echoes of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, so even though I had total faith in my team, I got down to San Diego immediately. I went to the stadium and the other evacuation site at the fairgrounds, and I asked the people on the ground what they needed. Baby formula, diapers, cots, dialysis machines. I got on the phone and called the grocery stores and the military bases and hospitals to marshal supplies all night. The next morning, before I went to sleep, I came back, and the people who had told me what they needed were surprised to see me. I needed to hear from them that the supplies they needed had arrived. I needed to follow through. Don’t assume things are finished. Make damn sure they are.

46. Don’t do half-reps. It hurts me every time I see someone in the gym doing a lat pulldown or a curl or a bench press halfway. Sure, they can do a lot of reps. But if they half-ass their basic exercises, what else are they half-assing? When you cheat an exercise, you only cheat yourself. Whatever you do, go all out. Otherwise, you’ll always have to wonder what would have happened if you gave it a full effort.

47. There is no magic pill. Believe me. I’ve been around the fitness industry for 60 years of trends and fads and shortcuts.

48. The only shortcut is doing something the right way the first time so that you don’t waste any time on the shortcuts.

49. Sell, sell, sell. No matter what you do in life, you need to learn to sell. Whether you have a product or whether you are the product, we all have to sell something. Become comfortable with selling.

50. Like it or not, EVERYONE has to sell, People tell me, “Arnold, I’m a teacher, I don’t need to sell anything.” Bullshit! You need to sell those students on why they should listen to you. You have to sell the principal on why they should hire you.

51. The first step in sales isn’t talking. It’s listening. You need to know your customer. What are their needs? What are their dreams? Learn to ask questions and then really, truly listen to the answers. That’s how you find the message that will connect.

52. Speak to their heart first, not their mind. If you can develop an emotional connection with someone and understand their feelings, you are already a step ahead of the person who is going to bombard them with logic. There is a time for the logic, but first, get into the heart so the brain is ready to hear your arguments.

53. Even when you aren’t selling, listening is a superpower. I love that old adage that God gave us two ears and one mouth, so we should listen twice as much as we talk. So many people just want to feel like someone cares. And you never know what you can learn. When I’m working on a movie set, I try to listen to all of the different crew members. I once learned all the challenges of

58. Develop a sense of humor. People love to laugh. They like being around funny people. You might think you’re either funny or you’re not. That’s not true. Like everything, you can get better with reps. When I wanted to get into Hollywood, I became friends with a very famous comedian, Milton Berle. I asked him to help me with comedy. Milton would write jokes for me, and then he would critique my timing. (He wasn’t very gentle about it, I remember a few, “Schwarzenegger, you Nazi, you fucked it up!”) The more I practiced, by getting in a joke in every TV appearance, the better I became.

59. Develop a sense of humor about yourself, too. The more you can laugh at yourself, the happier you’ll be. When you fail a lift or you screw something up, practice laughing at yourself instead of beating yourself up. We all can take ourselves too seriously. One way to stress just a little less about life is to laugh at yourself instead of beating yourself up.

60. Seriously, don’t beat yourself up, ever. You need a lot of energy to chase a vision. Don’t waste any of your energy being negative to yourself.

61. But be brutally honest with yourself. When I say, “Don’t beat yourself up,” I don’t mean that if your goal is to lose 20 pounds and you’re stuck that you should ignore that you’re eating dessert every day. You need to be honest with yourself without any negativity. Talk to yourself how you would talk to a friend you’re concerned about. Honesty allows you to figure out a plan to move on from failures. Abusing yourself over it just burns the energy for planning and moving on.

62. If you ever feel stuck, pick three small things you can focus on. Make them so small it’s impossible for you to fail. If your goals are to learn a new language, get in shape, and read more, write all three things on a notecard, and write “5 minutes a day.” When you wake up, do 5 minutes of reading, 5 minutes of pushups and squats, and 5 minutes of language practice before you brush your teeth. Make a tally for each habit on the notecard, and keep it on your nightstand. No matter what, you get that tally every day. Even if you’re about to climb into bed and you realize you didn’t do all three things, you do it and then go to sleep.

63. Slowly grow your goals. Progressive resistance works in the gym and in life, right? After a month, take one of your goals and make it 10 minutes a day.

64. Just to show you the compounding power of progressive resistance in life, if you started in January with 5-minute workouts and added 5 minutes each month, by June, you’d be training a half hour a day. It sure beats those New Year’s resolutions where you commit to training 30 minutes a day and then quit after three weeks, right?

65. Harness the power of small wins. The reason I say to start with small goals is that you need to learn the value of any wins. If you can start your day with three, 5-minute wins, then you’re going to feel that you accomplished something. And you did! Celebrate those little wins. Because here is the reality: you need fuel. Celebrating the little wins teaches you that those little wins compound and build up.

66. You need momentum, not motivation. No matter how fired up you are, motivation will run out. Believe me. I’ve been training for 62 years. There is no motivation that lasts that long. There are going to be days — probably soon — when you don’t want to get out of bed. Those are the days when you need momentum, not motivation. You need a routine. It is going to suck. Just do it.

67. You need patience. It takes time for little wins to build. When you look at someone successful, it’s easy to imagine it happening overnight, but it’s almost never true. They just kept moving forward, sometimes with big jumps, sometimes with tiny steps, and I guarantee there were days they went backward or stayed still. But the trend went upward. I see this all the time in our app. People will say, “I lost 20 pounds in the last 4 months, thank you,” and other members respond, “Wow! Unbelievable!” But at the same time, you’ll see people say, “I only lost a pound this week, what am I doing wrong?” Do the math. 4 months is about 18 weeks. The big transformation looks huge, but it’s

1. 1 pounds per month. Most people won’t get excited about progress that slow — until they see what it means over 4 or 6 or 12 months. In a year, that would be 57 pounds of weight loss. Sadly, most people will never see that success because they’ll be too impatient to see how small wins can build up into huge success. Be patient.

68. Find joy, not happiness. I think one of the nicest things anybody ever said about me came from Jim Lorimer. He said, “If I needed one word to describe Arnold, it’s ‘joy.’ When he’s working, there is joy, when he’s with his friends, there is joy, when he’s with his family, there is joy. I’ve never seen someone have joy in everything they do.” Now, I believe joy is different than happiness. Joy is deeper. People chase happiness, but I think they should chase joy. Happiness is fleeting. You can feel joy when you’re struggling. You can feel joy when you’re grieving the loss of a dear friend. Joy, to me, is having a sense of purpose. It’s what gives meaning to life.

69. We don’t have to be alike to inspire each other. You don’t need to want to be the greatest bodybuilder of all time, a movie star, or the Governor of California to learn from me. You can use these lessons to be the best mom or dad of all time, and I’m inspired daily by all of your stories. If we all took a little more time to focus on how many people there are to potentially inspire us, we’d all realize…

70. The world isn’t as broken as your phone makes it seem. Read your social media feed. Now imagine going to a gym, or a bar, or church, and hearing people talk like that. You’d say, “It’s enough already — stop fucking whining.” But that’s normal on social media! Get out there in the real world as often as you can. Talk to real people, not avatars. You will not find joy on social media.

71. On those days when you feel really hopeless about the world, just go and do something for someone else. Buy a sandwich for a homeless person. Trust me, the second you bring a little positivity into someone’s life, you’ll feel it in your own life. And you’ll prove to yourself that you do have the power to make things better, even if it’s for one person for a few minutes.

72. When you feel down, a quick walk can always get your brain moving. Some days, I wake up, and it feels like the world is a black-and-white movie. It sucks. But when I get moving, even just a little bit, it starts to turn to color. Movement is medicine, and a 5-minute walk can save you a lot of heartache.

73. They have a rule on airplanes that applies to life. You’re supposed to put your oxygen mask on before you help anyone else. Even your kid. It sounds crazy. But I (naturally) asked about it. If you don’t put yours on first, you can pass out before you can help your kid, and then everybody’s screwed. When people tell me they feel selfish working on themselves, whether it’s mentally or physically, I remind them of this. The more you do for yourself, the more you can help others.

74. When I say train your mind as much as your body, I mean in every way. If you injured your leg, you would go to an ortho and a PT and get the help you need. If you feel lost, depressed, or anxious, get the help you need. That isn’t weakness. It’s strength. It’s being honest with yourself and doing the work to get better every day.

75. I need to mention finding a vision one more time because it is that important. It is the real secret to a life of joy. You need a purpose, a reason to live. Take the time.

76. If you take nothing else from this list, please listen to this: leave the world better than you found it. That’s it. If every one of us tries to live up to that simple rule, imagine the world we’ll leave to our grandkids.

77. Put your phone down. Seriously, this was a really long list because I’m so old. Go look around. Take a walk. Find some joy. It’s out there.

[writingforyourpleasure]

I have a thing for Car wash

Genre: NonIdol!AU, SummerJob!AU

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: You do car wash as a summer job each year. But this year , 7 new employees are added to the mix.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

A/N: Thoses Butter's concept photoshoot are gonna be the death of me ...

______

Summer’s Job never been dreamy or appealing you always preferred to stay home and play games or hangout with your friends.

You were doing the same summer job from your high school’s years throughout your UNI years, this year was the last year where you could work at the same gas station you usually spent your summer’s at. You were quite happy about this news because your work there wasn’t really enjoyable to say the least.

You were working as car washer.

The staff was limited to you and Gladys. Gladys was an Australian grandma’ with an heavy accent and a loud voice.

You used to complain about the underpaid job and understaff issue to her each year , but even if she tried her best to pay you more each year, the problem of understaff was remaining.

Plus you had the marvelous advantage , note the irony, to be a woman. So of course you had some guy every now and then asking you for some porn kink including cars and water to you.

And of course as soon as you dared to say to them that it was not respectful of them to ask for such favors , well their ego feeling insecure will make them insult you ‘til Gladys will come out and try to dissolve any trouble. And if they didn’t leave… well then Tallulah will come help you out. Were Gladys was a true perfect cottage core granny , Tallulah her spouse, was a weightlifting Olympics coach. So she was , massive and looked very frightening.

But since she was often occupied most of the time Gladys would have to do the trick , and if too much persistent she would call her little brother Jeff a policeman always coming in and out of the shop to check on things.

It was nice, for a summer or two, but seeing as it’s been years since you were first introduce to this summer’s job to say it became painfully annoying was an understatement.

And this year would be the same…

Or so you though.

Gladys finally took your complains about the car wash job being understaffed and recruited a few people to help out .

When she said a few, you though she was talking about 2 to 3 people.

But no, no non no no no. Gladys took in 7 people !

She promised you your check wouldn’t take any damage by the presence of those new employees , but you sincerely doubt that.

And of course you’ll have to show them around and proceed to show them how to wash a car because of course it’s not like anybody could know how to do it by themselves.

You were moody when that tons of information’s felled down on your head, but now finding yourself in front of the 7 new employees changed everything.

Apparently Gladys misspelled car wash job for model’s photoshoot coz’ those 7 boys were for sure way too beautiful to need a car wash job.

It had to be a prank, right?

So being more self aware in what you’ve been for years you showed carefully those men of to do the job. And no it wasn’t cute or sexy, far from it.

You were dressed in your yellow hoodie and black jogging with flip-flop.

For once you wished you had were those fucking shorts looking like panties more than anything, and a crop top or something similar, like all those freaks watching too much porn often asked you to.

But no , and those guys were dressed in matching outfits in jeans and whites tee.

Even if they were very dreamy swoon over , you had more pressing issues to think about.

Like why one of them started a water fight with another one, and putting a stop to it before one of them put soap into their eyes.

“Okay guys!!! Please stop …? I don’t want to have to report you to Gladys on your first day okay? So keep that behavior for when you’re on your own okay?”

“Sorry , we didn’t meant to …” Said one.

“Huh sorry to interrupt , but none of us seems to have catch your name earlier ?” Said the guy with blue hair.

You liked his hair, it was nice, like blue waves , more darker on the edges and lighter on the center of his scalp. He had such beautiful eyes too, so sharp an-

Oh god , wait did you really lost yourself by admiring him?!

“Huh miss???”

“Y-Yeah !!! Haha my name’s Y/N !” You extended your hand , losing your mind for talking in a higher voice to him , good job at not being suspect Y/N….

And you hated yourself even more for being awkward by presenting your hand to him. But he, on the other hand sensed your discomfort and made your move seem completely normal shaking your hand lightly and giving you a cute smile showing off his dimples.

“Namjoon,…. And those two are Jungkook and Taehyung, and I hate to be the one breaking it to you but we’re probably gonna have a hard time keeping them calm.”

“Oh… Okay” You just ended , looking to the two guys involved in the previous water fight, and looking back to Namjoon’s face. He was calm and put you at ease. Hargh you were staring , good job on not being a freak Y/N .

The one all covered in jean from head to toe approached you, and ever so silently spoke to you.

“Hate to be a bother Y/N, but can I have a bucket to wring out my sponge, please?”

“Huh Yeah of course huh-hu….”

“Yoongi’s the name…”

“Oh huh well yeah let me get that from Gladys to you okay I’ll be back in just a sec Yoongi.”

He nodded very calm much to your dismay as you were starting to feel anxious about advising Gladys for more employees, maybe you should have just shut it.

You entered the store who basked in a sunny light as the morning was starting to begin for most of other people’s in the city.

At the register was one of the new employees, he wore a plaid skirt and converse’s with a white thee and jean shirt. You couldn’t believe how gracious his lips draw themselves on his face. They looked pillowy and as dreamy as the six other’s man out there waiting for you.

“Huh hello ? You might remember me from earlier ? Y/N the foremost employee?”

“Of course I do you’re the sweet mango! “

“I’m sorry what ?”

“The sweet mango ! The color of your sweatshirt look alike a mango!”

“I-I Yeah it does…”

“Would you like another nickname maybe? I’m sorry if this one doesn’t fit your style haha. What about little mouse ?”

“Do I look like a little mouse ?”

“No ,you look like a fucking rat”

Said another voice coming from behind you.

“I beg you pardon?”

You turn over to the masculine voice behind you to find yourself facing a chest. Your eyes flew up to the face of the stranger, ready to take down any bratty client. And you were surprised to face a smiling shit eating brunette man glancing down at you . He was snickering and looking at you like he was mentally undressing you with his eyes.

“Yah ! Jin ! Don’t be rude to our new friend!”

You look down to the content in his arms, some sandwiches squeezed between bottles of water.

“Wait your on job duty ! Why aren’t you with the others ?” You started to take over yourself and focus on your task, keeping everything organized.

“Some of us forgot to bring our lunch to work this morning , so I volunteered to go for it , but you’ve been blocking the line too preoccupied to talk to mister big flirt over there.”

He gestured at the cashier.

“We weren’t flirt-“

“You totally were!” Gladys interrupted you coming out from the back of the shop with several boxes of energy bars .

“Gladys I would ne-“

“Don’t lie to me girl ! Okay Jimin go fill up the shelves with those and Jin , you’re lucky you have a nice face, it’s on the house for today so go back to work will you now?”

“Sure thing Gladys! Thank you so much !” He offered her a wink before smirking down at you , going back to his devices.

“AND SHE DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A RAT! BUT YOU SURE TALK LIKE A BRATT!!!” Shouted Gladys at Jin, while a girl was approaching him to take care of her car and asking for his number. He was a blushing mess and Tae had to intervene to talk an eligible sentence to, the poor lost girl, after that.

“Now, Y/N what do you need sweetheart? I mean other than Jimin’s number of course?” She had said it loud enough for Jimin to hear it and bringing a cute smile on his face content of his accomplishments.

“Gladys please stop. “ You warned her with a tired face. She maybe looked old but she was fearless for sure .

“I need extra buckets for the boys, please.”

She leaved the register for what felt only two seconds before bringing over 5 extra buckets for you , to share.

“Thank you , you’re a life savior!”

“I know , should have started a sect when it was trendy.”

You left laughing to her dumb joke , but not before quickly glancing to Jimin. After that event you formed three distinct groups between all of you to get their heads in the game.

But with Jimin busy with helping out Gladys around the store, one of them was standing by himself.

“Okay since your alone I’ll help out for today.”

“Really? Thank you so much I was worried I’ll found myself alone when everyone’s having fun in groups.”

You looked around to indeed found them more busy playing around then actively work in silence .

“Yeah well normally having so much fun isn’t part of the job but I don’t want to kill the mood.”

“I’m Hoseok by the way but you can call me Hobi ! “ He said with a heart shaped smile.

“Y/N. Haha did you had to see Jimin assigning you a nickname too?”

“No this one’s for my crushes .” He said glancing up at you with stars shining eyes behind the comfort of his sunglasses.

“Yah! Hobi Does it mean I’m one of your freaking crushes?!” Yelled a not-so-speechless Jin , across the parking lot.

“Why don’t you come found out ?!” Yelled back a way too enthusiast Hoseok.

The day went by pretty quietly apart from those 7 agents of chaos you were stuck with from now.

Lunch came around pretty quickly and you all went to the back of the shop to have your break there , enjoying the nice breeze of the fan, while chatting.

“So , how come you’re all working here this summer?” You asked between bites of your meal.

“My aunt knows Gladys and told me she was recruiting , and since I was in need of a job I took it.” Said Jimin looking at you oh so charmingly.

“I have a thing for car wash.” Said Jin like it was completely normal.

“Your such a weirdo something hyung I swear… I was in need of a summer job saw the flyers by the campus and thought why not ? Here I am.”

Replied Jungkook slowly slurping down his noodles.

“We wanted to prove some sexist asshole that , no it wasn’t , a job only reserved to women.” Said a disgusted Namjoon swallowing quickly his part of the sandwich.

“I want to be a social entrepreneur.”

Said Taehyung leaving you with wide eyes.

“How is that related to bein-“

“If I succeed to make this place a rentable place from just the car wash then I could do anything.”

“And how would you do that ?” asked Jin dismissing his lunch to look over at Taehuyng.

“What about a photoshoot?”

[kakiwrites]

Tsukishima bullying his favourite princess, but he accidentally takes it a bit too far and makes her cry

making the princess cry

Genre: slight angst and fluff

Warning: mentions of insecurities

A kei tsukishima x reader

Synopsis: A time where elves, fairies, dragons, and other wonderful creatures live in harmony, how would you choose to live? On a pirate ship? Making potions? Who do you stumble upon along the journey? A soldier, a poet, a king? Well, that’s for you to decide.

 (masterlist is under navigation!)

 a/n: hey guys! So been a while since I've written for soldier, poet, king but we are back! Requests are open so please don't be shy to leave them in my inbox below! Without further ado, let's get started.

 Not all princesses were perfect.

 You knew that more than anyone. You were having a rough week, having to cover for your father because he booked too many things for him. You had to fill his shoes, which wasn't so easy. So you were looking forward to a visit from your crush, prince tsukishima.

 You knew each other ever since you were in diapers. He was very much the epitome of a gentleman, straight posture, charming smile, and a vast mind.

 But he was the opposite of a gentleman, that was sure.

 He always picked on you, ruffling your new hairstyle, pouring paint on your dress, and teasing you every chance he gets. You knew there was a very low chance that he wouldn't do it on this visit.

 But you still hoped anyway.

 And now here you were, strolling through the large rose garden side-by-side, telling little anecdotes about your week. You reached a part of the garden that had the small gazebo you used to run around in with the blonde prince. You both walked over to it and sat down, basking in the silence for a moment. It didn't take too long for his dreaded teasing to start.

 "I'm surprised you can still walk all the way from the castle without getting tired," Tsukishima said with a smirk, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. You tilted your head in confusion, waiting to see if he was going to prod further which you weren't surprised that he did. "with that figure of yours, even horses can't carry you through this garden." he chuckled darkly to himself.

 He turned to you to add insult to injury only to see tears spilling down your cheeks as you covered your mouth to muffle your sobs. He could feel his heart crack on the spot.

 "(y/n)-"

 "no, you're right... Maybe we should c-cut this meeting short," you said, putting on a shaky smile before you hiked up your dress and ran back to the palace.

 He just reached the castle gates when he saw his family carriage approaching him, the coach telling the prince that he was the one who requested to be picked up.

 He left, frustrated with your stubbornness. once he was left alone in the back of the carriage, his guilt starting to eat at his mind slowly.

  He disregarded his duties and tried to visit you day after day to no avail. The maids would tell him how broken you were. They would tell him that you wouldn't let anyone in your quarters. He was starting to get antsy.

so one day, he went up the stairs headed up to your room, much to the dismay of the staff.

 Tsukishima reached your room, forming his hand into a fist to knock but not before he heard crashing from the other side. He burst through the door to see your pale figure on the ground from the lights coming in from the hallway.

 The prince immediately dropped down next to you and took you in his arms. What have you done to yourself? Was it because of his words a couple of days ago? He was so stupid. He looked down to see that your half-lidded eyes overflowed with tears. You looked so exhausted. Seeing you in this weak state caused tears to prick the corner of his eyes too.

 "i-i apologize for what I said (y/n). You aren't heavy. You are perfect. I'm sorry I pushed my insults too hard," he whispered, pulling away to look into your (e/c) irises. When he saw that your eyes started to come back to life, he felt his heartbeat faster than before. "will you please forgive me?" he said, finally wearing his feelings on his sleeve.

 "o-only if you say 'i love you'." you joked weakly. You didn't expect him to answer but suddenly, he pulled your body flushed against his, pressing his lips onto yours in a soft kiss.

 "I love you." he blurted out once he pulled away. You sat up in his arms and ruffled his hair a little bit, for the first time in days, you smiled.

 "I love you too, my prince."

 This became entirely self-indulgent and short and I apologize. This wasn't my best work either, I kinda drew up blank in the middle. Might revamp this into a longer and more detailed fic if I get the motivation. Requests are open! I love you guys 💖💕❤️

General taglist (don’t be shy to comment your tumblr @ below): @tokyoghoose @macaronnv @reogou @lnarizakis @midnightangelfox @wumboho @seiijixcia

series taglist (don’t be shy to comment your tumblr @ below!): @astrxrism @kurookinnie @isentsworld @inkumistuki @booksandhoneymilktea

[thebadgerclan]

The Dragon and The Fox: Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Receptions and honeymoons...

@autumnbabylon

Last chapter, thank you for reading!

The reception was being held in the ballroom just across the hall from the one in which the ceremony was held.  All the guests had made their way into the reception, leaving Nikolai and Zoya alone for the first time all day.  He looked at his wife, Saints, he thought, my wife!, taking in her radiant, unearthly beauty. Zoya’s face was dusted with a faint pink blush, her lips turned up in a smile.  Her wedding ring, which she and Nikolai had exchanged privately after the ceremony, was silver, a dragon and a fox engraved in the metal, a matching one on her husband’s left hand.

“I love you,” she said, making Nikolai smile.  “I’ve never been happier than I am right now.”  Nikolai pulled his wife into his arms, kissing her deeply, chest flush with hers.  “As I love you, my darling.  I love you more than any words could possibly hope to convey.”  Zoya giggled, taking Nikolai’s offered arm, walking with him across the hall into the reception.  Guards stationed outside the door bowed to the royal couple before opening the double doors, which now bore a golden dragon rather than the Lantsov double-eagle.

“Her Royal Highness, Queen Zoya Nazyalensky!” an attendant announced as they entered.  “And His Royal Highness, Prince Nikolai Lantsov!”  Their guests rose and applauded as they entered, Zoya waving and smiling, Nikolai doing the same.  The newlyweds made their way to the table at the head of the ballroom, which was intimately set for two.  Nikolai pulled Zoya’s chair out for her before taking his own seat, taking his wife’s hand in his, pressing a kiss to it.

Servants swarmed the room, serving a meal of roasted quail, vegetables with herbs, freshly baked bread, and Kerch wine.  Nikolai held Zoya’s hand through the meal, his gaze more on her than on his plate.  He pressed kisses to her cheek every few minutes, whispered in her ear, making her smile and laugh into her glass.  Anyone with eyes could see how in love their monarchs were, how deep their devotion to one another ran.  When most of their guests had finished their meals, Nikolai rose, and the room fell silent.

“I want to begin by thanking you all for being here today,” he said, smiling.  “Zoya and I are so happy you all could be here, your presence means the world to us.”  Nikolai turned, looking at his wife, whose cheeks pinked yet again.  “Zoya Nazyalensky: my general, my queen, and now, my wife.  If I would have told you three years ago that I would be your husband, you would have laughed in my face, and probably slapped me.  And yet, here we are, and I have never been happier, never been more in love than I am in this moment.

“You saw me at my worst, at my weakest, and yet, you never shied away.  You stayed by my side and helped me when I needed you most.  Zoya, milaya, you are my strength, my comfort, my other half.  I love you so much, my darling, and I will love you for the rest of my life.”  The guests let out a collective “aww”, and Nikolai offered Zoya his hand.  “Might I offer you a dance, my bride?”  Gracefully, Zoya rose to her feet, taking her husband’s hand.  She went up on her tiptoes and kissed him, making him flush.  “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

Nikolai led his bride to the dance floor, bowing to her.  Zoya laughed, curtseying in return.  “You, my love,” he said, taking her hand in his, his other arm winding around her middle, resting on the small of her back.  “Are the only woman I will ever bow to.”  “And you are the only man I will ever curtsey to.”  Zoya took his hand, her other hand on his shoulder, looking at Nikolai with all the love in the world.  The small orchestra began to play, and Nikolai and Zoya began to dance.

Swaying in time with the music, gazing into each other’s eyes, the rest of the world faded away, leaving only Zoya, Nikolai, and the love and adoration they had for each other.  Zoya released Nikolai’s hand, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he put his arms around her middle, pulling her closer to him.  “Your necklace,” he said, noticing the wire ship for the first time.  “Is that…?”  “Your ship.  Yes, it is.”  Nikolai’s heart squeezed.  His wife, his perfect, beautiful wife had taken an absentminded creation and made it into something beautiful.  She always did.

The song ended, and Nikolai tipped Zoya’s chin up and kissed her, long and sweet.  For once, she didn’t care that her affection was on display for all to see.  It was her wedding day, and if she wanted to kiss her husband, then that’s what she’d do.  Nikolai led her back to their table, offering her a flute of champagne, which Zoya took with a smile.  Cocktails were being made and handed around now, the guests thoroughly enjoying themselves.  When the musicians struck up a traditional Ravkan folk dance, Zoya beamed, practically dragging Nikolai back onto the dance floor.

Other couples had reacted similarly, pulling their partners onto the floor, laughing and smiling.  Zoya had learned this dance when she first came to the Little Palace, and Nikolai had learned it while at the front.  The steps were fast paced, involving spins, twirls, and jumps, but both the bride and groom were smiling ear to ear as they danced.  It was a sight to see: the queen spinning around the dance floor with her people, her white skirts fluttering along with the rainbow of silks of her guests.

The dance came to a close, and Nikolai decided to put his own twist on it, pulling Zoya into his arms before dipping her, making her squeal in shock.  When he righted her, he kissed her, smiling against her lips.  “That was fun,” he said, and Zoya nodded, kissing him again.  The orchestra continued to play, a mixture of slow and fast songs, but the queen and her prince retreated back to their table, where various nobles and dignitaries came to greet them, all offering congratulations.  Dessert came and went, a luscious chocolate cake with raspberry filling, and when the orchestra began playing a final slow song, Nikolai pressed a kiss to Zoya’s forehead.

“One last dance, liymibaya?”  Zoya smiled and stood, following Nikolai back onto the dance floor.  This dance, while slow and romantic, was different from their first dance: Zoya’s head rested on Nikolai’s shoulder, his arms tight around his waist, Nikolai’s chin rested atop his wife’s head, hand rubbing up and down her back, the other resting on her hip.  This was more intimate, the couple hardly moving as they gently swayed back and forth.  In her husband’s embrace, everything in Zoya’s world felt right.  She was happy, she was unreally in love, and she knew Nikolai felt the same.

Guests were filtering out, back to their suites or coaches, but Zoya and Nikolai remained in each other’s arms, the queen’s eyes shut contentedly.  Nikolai pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, heart feeling like it could burst.  When the orchestra finished the song, Zoya lifted her head, eyes meeting her husband’s.  “I love you, sobachka,” she said, pulling him down into a kiss.  “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”  Those five words brought tears to Nikolai’s eyes, and he bent to kiss his wife yet again.

“Zoya, I am yours, and I will be for the rest of my life.  I love you, I love you so much.  My Zoya, how I adore you.”  She pressed herself into Nikolai’s chest, and he held her close, kissing the crown of her head.  Genya appeared at their side, clearing her throat softly to get their attention.  “I hate to interrupt, but the coach is ready.”  The newlyweds smiled, and Zoya stepped back from Nikolai.  “I’ll be back,” she said, pecking his cheek once more before leaving the ballroom with Genya.  Nikolai smiled, making his way back to the guest suite he’d stayed in last night to change.

His dress uniform was neatly hung in the wardrobe, replaced by comfortable yet formal travelling clothes.  Once he was changed, Nikolai went to wait for his bride in the entrance hall to the Grand Palace.  Zoya appeared moments later, her extravagant gown swapped for a simple silver dress, her blue kefta overtop.  Her tiara was gone, and her hair fell in loose curls down her back, but the ship necklace remained.  Soft leather boots adorned her feet, and when she was near enough, Zoya pulled Nikolai down for a kiss.

“Are you ready?”  “I am,” the queen replied, taking Nikolai’s hand and exiting the palace.  The royal coach was ready and waiting, a team of 6 white mares whinnying where they stood.  Genya embraced her friend, a wide smile on her face.  “Have a good time,” she said.  “Be safe.”  “We will,” Zoya promised, Nikolai coming to her side.  “Don’t ruin my country while I’m gone.”  Genya laughed.  “I’ll do my best.”  Nikolai helped his wife into the coach, sliding in next to her, shutting the door and rapping the roof twice.  They were off, Zoya resting her head on Nikolai’s shoulder, heart light in her chest and a smile on her face.

Three days later, the queen stood on the coast of the True Sea, her husband at her side.  The Volkvolny sat waiting in the harbor, its flags fluttering proudly in the breeze.  The Lantsov double eagle still flew, but alongside it was Zoya’s dragon, and she felt her heart leap.  “Captain,” his lieutenant greeted.  “My queen, a pleasure to see you.”  Zoya smiled, shaking the offered hand.  Nikolai shrugged the familiar teal coat on, a wide grin forming.  “She’s all set for the journey, sir.  Have a wonderful honeymoon.”  

Nikolai beamed, shaking his lieutenant’s hand.  “We will, thank you.”  “Your majesty,” he said in parting, leaving Nikolai and Zoya alone.  He looked at his wife, the sea breeze playing with her hair.  They were headed to the Wandering Isle for two weeks, letting themselves forget their royal duties and simply enjoy themselves.  “Shall we?” the prince offered, and Zoya smiled, nodding.  “Let’s go.”

He swept her into his arms, carrying her bridal style onto the ship.  “Nikolai!” she cried, eyes shut as she laughed, kicking her legs as she was carried aboard.  “Yes, my darling?”  “Put me down!”  He did, setting her on the deck, at the bow of the ship.  “As you wish, dearest.”  Zoya spun around, pulling her husband into a deep, passionate kiss.  “You are a menace,” she teased, and Nikolai smiled.  “Yet you married me.”

“I did, and I love you.”  Nikolai kissed her, arms around her neck, hers around his waist.  “And I love you, my dragon.”  “Sir!” came the shout of one of the crew.  “Are we ready to depart?”  “At your queen’s command!” he called back, and Zoya laughed.  She turned to face the body of the ship, the crew waiting on her orders.  “Ready for departure!”  They scattered, raising the sails and lifting the anchor, the Volkvolny gliding from the harbor.  Zoya turned to face the sea, Nikolai behind her, his arms around her middle, chin on her head.  “I love you,” he said, kissing her temple.  “I love you too, sobachka,” the queen replied, her eyes on the horizon.  The rest of their lives was ahead of them, much like the open sea.  The dragon queen and the too-clever fox, hearts and souls bound as one, forevermore.

[sexyglances]

The "Rapunzel" is a Lie in Run On

My favorite theme of Run On is that it is up to you to make your own happiness in life and that you have the full autonomy to do so, no matter what anyone else says. And my favorite ways the way the drama shows that is how a) that for your own happiness you must put yourself first in your own life, b) building a personal found family with real, caring relationships is important, and c) cherishing both yourself and your found familial relationships together is key to creating a truly fulfilling life.

The idea of a Rapunzel is mentioned a couple of times in the drama, and in a way, many of the characters could fit the role of a "Rapuzel." Seongyeom, Danah, and Woosik have all been stuck in their own lonely "towers" based on society's "rules" and expectations about how they should conduct their lives. And while they all have had someone come into their lives that has made a profound impact on them, none of these people had a Prince/ess Charming swoop in and save them from their lonely towers. Instead, their prince/esses have only been catalysts for change. They may have opened the door for the Rapunzels and encouraged them out of their towers, but in Run On, the Rapunzel has to make the active choice to leave their tower. Only by their active choices to redefine their relationships with themselves and with others are they able escape the confines of duty, obligation, and expectation and learn to live life and build meaningful relationships for themselves.

The drama started off with a lot of relationships based solely on pretense only, as if circumstances are what make strong bonds. But as the episodes go on, it's demonstrated that it's not the obligation of a powerful relationship that defines the strength of a relationship, but rather the relationship strength is determined by the actions a person takes in the relationship. In the beginning, we have Seongyeom surrounded by "strong relationships," a picture-perfect successful family, an elite track team with a renowned coach, and a sports agent that gets him in photo shoots and in the press. But as we delve past the outside illusion of these relationships, we see a family that is mostly absent from each other's lives, teammates and a coach that at best Seongyeom leaves at arms length, and at worst actively talk and scheme behind his back (and do even worse to Woosik), and even Danah barely knows Seongyeom on a personal level and openly admits their business relationship is used for her personal gain. Danah is in a similar situation where most of her obligate family/business relationships are trash as well, even if they look great from the outside; and she openly admits she has no friends either. Woosik is the lowly hoobae in his track team that doesn't have enough social capital at the time to stop his bullying or get the coaches to stop looking the other way from his bullying. All of these dynamics are based on the idea they must sacrifice parts of themselves for the greater (fucked up) system at large.

Then Mijoo enters the story. As an orphan she has had to build a found family for herself her whole life. Because she has none of those pre-determined familial obligations, and is a freelancer with no business to ruin outside of her own, she isn't beholden to the same rules of conduct that seem to be holding down Seongyeom, Danah, and also Woosik. Because she had to survive on her own, Mijoo learned early on that let herself out of her Rapunzel tower long ago. Waiting for someone else who might never come wasn't going to put the proverbial self-worth food on the table. Instead, she went out and foraged for those found family relationships herself.

The other great thing about when Seongyeom confronted his father was that it wasn't because Mijoo said anything about what his father had done or that she had encouraged any specific action in that case. Again, there's no "damsels in distress" here with a hero ready to take control (the "Rapunzel" is a lie!), it's about seizing your own life for yourself. Mijoo may be "[Seongyeom's] strength" but the way he stood up to his father in a way he never has before was done alllll on his own. Seongyom, the guy that was once considered "shameless" because he felt no embarrassment in the past when he did things is now actually feeling real shame and embarassment at how his father treats the people Seongyeom holds dear. The portrayal of a loving relationship resulting in self-actualization and autonomy an incredibly beautiful sentiment that isn't really portrayed in romance stories, at least not as explicitly and openly as it is in Run On.

The other thing I want to touch on is the running theme of embracing found families in lieu of obligate families in Run On. At the beginning of the story, Mijoo, while a bit of a loner, has a demonstrated strong relationship with May, and as the story goes on, we see most of her business relationships are also real friendships based on warmth and sincerity. That same sincerity is brought on as her relationship develops with Seongyeom and as she makes friends with Woosik, Younghwa, and even Danah (Mijoo's quips to Danah may be biting but they are sincere, haha). As Seongyeom learns to build his own sincere relationships with his own found family, we also see him bloom from someone with a husk of a social net, a person who barely ever put himself and his actual emotions out there, to a person not only with strong convictions for others but convictions in his actual relationships with others. He lets himself care for others and in turn that opens himself up to the genuine care others have for himself as well.

My favorite scene demonstrating this is after Woosik's training session when Mijoo and Woosik were sitting next to each other looking over the footage. Seongyeom looked at them, not with the detached observation he would have had in episode 1, but with a bit of jealousy tugging at his heart because he wanted to be included. And then he actually expresses he wants to be included, something that would not even cross the mind of the old Seongyeom to want or express. And Mijoo and Woosik's response? They immediately met Seongyeom with warmth, and they not just let him sit down, but sit with them. Like they literally moved and made room for him between the two of them as if it was nothing. Because unlike any relationships he used to have, Seongyeom being included warmly is a given with them. They have such a natural affinity for him, that they just automatically folded him into their interaction. It was such a small scene but it really demonstrated the growth these characters and their relationships have had. There's no room for jealousy here, but there is room for Seongyeom.

And lastly, Run On drives home the importance of cherishing both yourself and the people you care about in tandem for a fulfilling life. In episode 12 we have the scene when Mijoo told Seongyeom's father that Seongyeom is not an object that parallels when he in turn told his father that his sister and Mijoo couldn't be treated like objects either. Neither Seongyeom's or Mijoo's self-worth is defined by the other person standing up for them, hell, they didn't even know each other did that. But just knowing you have that emotional support in your life is a comfort that both Seongyeom and Mijoo know what is like to live without, which makes their convictions even stronger. They've felt life without that support so they do not want the people they care for to have to continue to be treated that way. Nobody deserves to be treated as a pawn in someone else's life. And they can both boldly stand up against this treatment of their loved ones because of their self-actualization (or at least partial self-actualization, they're not perfect) in how to extrapolate their self-worth and tie it into their strength of care for others.

What else is interesting is that at the end of episode 12 when Mijoo is upset because of her verbal tussle with Seongyeom's father, I thought we would get a parallel to Seongyeom in the beginning of the series, where Seongyeom sacrificed himself for others, he was always putting himself second. But in a poignant reversal, she broke up with him not as a sacrifice for him, but for herself, because she is the most important in her own life. This is due in part because she still has that automatic defense mechanism that she can only rely on herself in tough times. That defense mechanism of relying only on herself, however, also has the beautiful reversal of that she knows that she has to work through shit herself to make herself happy. A double-edged sword mounted in a hilt of self-worth.

"Must I continue seeing him at the expense of myself?" Mijoo says. Of course we know this is an emotional strawman argument but I love that Run On has a clear message that having to hide yourself in a Rapunzel Tower for a "caring" relationship means that relationship isn't based in care at all. She also says, "I value myself more than anyone else." Mijoo can't sacrifice herself for Seongyeom's toxic relationship with his father (not that Seongyeom is asking her to, but as an orphan she feels guilty for "coming between" Seongyeom and his father even though she is at literally 0% fault in that relationship mess). Younghwa won't change who he is for Danah, and in turn Younghwa doesn't expect Danah to put him before her either. Woosik can't let his self-doubt change him into someone who has no drive. Now that he's letting himself believe in his ability to recover, he has a better support system than he ever had in his former track team. And as far as Seongyeom is concerned, even all of friends, his new found family, (Woosik, the other track dude, Younghwa, and the former track coach he brought back to coaching) take his personality and his friendship for what it is, none of them are trying to change his personality or mold him into something he's not. They've all actually expressed acceptance and affection for his personality quirks.

The isolation of a "Rapunzel" state-of-mind is being dismantled for all these characters in Run On, and it is immensely fulfilling to see the characters grow as they leave their societal expectations behind and form fulfilling lives for themselves filled with people who love and support them. Self-actualization at its finest.

[atsumiyass]

With this Song Pt.1

hey guys !! this wasnt a request but we wanted to get something on the page so here it is, hope you enjoy !! - venus

Satori Tendou x F!Reader (soulmate au)

warnings: none

part 2 here !!

You never truly believed in soulmates. The thought of having one never pleased you anyways. I mean, shouldn’t you be able to choose who you would spend the rest of your life with? It just didn’t sit right with you. Either way, the moment you turned 18 during your 3rd year of high school, your parents told you about how you and your soulmate could hear when and what each other sang, and that would be how they could identify who you were. You didn’t really linger on the thought for too long, more pushing it to the side and leaving it for later. Ontop of graduating in a matter of a few months, final exams, and managing your school’s volleyball club, you didn’t need anything else to worry about. 

The next time you were at school your friends asked you a bunch of questions about it, but you brushed it off not wanting to think about the topic. Once you entered your classroom you sat at your desk and put your head down, not getting much sleep the night prior due to your parents constant nagging. “you look horrible” The ash blonde commented as he sat in his desk next to yours. The sound of his voice had you sitting up, an unamused expression on your face. “gee thanks eita…” you mumbled and put your head back down. “I just mean that…you look like you had a rough night. Is everything okay?” he asked in a concerned tone. “yeah its just, this stupid soulmate thing.” You sighed turning in your seat to face him. “I get it, my parents would talk my ear off about it all the time, they’ll leave you alone eventually.” He assured you to which you nodded. A part of you doubted his words considering how involved your parents were with your life. But he had already found his, so it was only a matter of time until you found yours. Before you could think about the matter any further the teacher walked into the classroom as the bell rang and ordered the students to get out materials for the lesson.

The sound of the lunch bell rang through your ears, making you jump a bit since you had been dazing off in class. “You coming? we have lunch practice today.” Semi reminded you as he started packing up his things. “Yeah sure, I’m just gonna get a drink at the vending machine really quick. I’m starving.” You told him. He nodded and walked out of the classroom, you trailing behind and walking in the opposite direction to the vending machine. Once you got there you felt around your bag for your clutch where you kept your money.

To no avail, you had forgotten it at home.

You sighed and closed your bag again. “there goes my somewhat lunch” you mumbled and started walking off. “heyy! y/n-chan~” you heard the familiar voice call out from behind. You turned around you saw the red head skip towards you, money in hand. “Didya forget your money at home? Silly y/n-chan. Your always so forgetful!” he teased, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “was it that obvious?” you laughed and looked away in embarrassment. “aw chin up! Here..” he started, putting money into the machine and pressing two buttons. A chocolate milk and a strawberry milk popping out of it. He handed the pink carton to you with a grin. You looked at him for a second and took the carton from his hand, your fingers lingering for a second before pulling away. “Thanks Satori-kun, I really appreciate it.” You said, giving him a small smile. “Now cmon, we’re gonna be late for practice.” You ushered, pushing the straw inside the carton and sipping on the pink liquid. The red head followed behind, little to your knowledge gazing at you with lovestruck eyes and a smile on his face.

It was now nighttime, and you were helping the boys clean up the gym. Mostly helping Goshiki pick up stray balls and putting them back into the cart. After everyone was done cleaning you informed the boys you would be staying back to fold the uniforms that had just finished drying. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to the dorms l/n-san? I don’t mind staying behind.” Ushijima offered as he picked up his shoes from the floor. “Its no problem Ushijima-san, I’ll be fine walking by myself don’t worry. Have a good night!” You reassured him. He gave a bow in return and walked with Tendou towards the boys dormitories. You walked to the washing room and quietly started singing a song you’ve recently been obsessed with while folding the jerseys.

“He's singing, She's a, she's a lady…”

“And I am just a line without a hook…”

“Oh baby I am a wreck when I’m without you”

“I need you here to stay...”

“What was that Tendou-san? A hook with what?” Ushijima asked, making Tendou chuckle. “No no no Wakatoshi-kun…it’s the song my soulmates been singing a lot lately, they just started singing it again right now.” He explained to which Ushijima nodded. “So do you like the song they’ve gotten stuck inside your head?” Ushijima asked, making tendou smile and look up at the night sky littered with stars.

“yeah…it reminds me of someone special.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next few weeks, you kept your soulmate to the back of your mind. Not paying too much mind to it considering you had much more important things to worry about. But when you weren’t singing, your soulmate definitely was. They would sing the strangest songs; you were pretty sure they were all made up but either way they were always in your head 24/7. You even caught yourself humming to some at practice. Okay maybe they were a bit catchy…

“Stray!” you heard someone call out, pulling you from your daze as you quickly moved to the side and let the ball hit the wall next to you. “Sorry about that y/n-senpai!” Goshiki quickly exclaimed in fear that you would be angry. You simply waved at him that it was fine and continued with your manager duties. One of them being updating stats, since it was the start of a new month. You grabbed your notebook and your clipboard and started jotting things down. You soon got to Tendou and started changing his stamina and speed stats, along with his height. Once again you started humming your soulmates song without noticing, which striked coach Saitous attention. “Whats that song you’re singing?” he asked which made you jump from surprise. You mentally scolded yourself again for humming it before answering “Just this song my soulmate got stuck in my head.” You laughed and continued to Shirabus stats. “Your soulmate? Well, if anything I thought that was one of Tendous weird songs he likes to sing on the court.” He added which made you abruptly stop writing. 

Tendous song? No, it couldn’t be. It sounded nothing like them, it was absurd to think hes my soulmate…I mean, I’ve never heard him hum one of my songs, and even if he has I’m sure it’s just a coincidence since we hang around each other a lot-’ your thoughts stopped as you heard the coaches voice again “It seems as though you have some thinking to do y/n-san. But whatever it is, please don’t let it affect the team. I wish you luck on finding your soulmate.” He stated before getting up and calling a 10-minute break. You processed his words for a couple more seconds before scrambling to get the water bottles and towels. Passing them out to each player, coach Saitous words still lingered in your mind. 

“Heya y/n-chan?! Im talking to you!” Tendou said waving his hands frantically in front of your face to get your attention. “H-huh?? Oh sorry I was just thinking.” You said, to which he just laughed and shook his head. “Anyways, I was just wondering if you’ve found your soulmate yet?” He said which had your eyes widening at the unexpected question. “Oh uh..haha yeah well uhh..its not really my main concern at the moment, considering we’re graduating soon and all that-” “but y/n aren’t you eager to know who it is?” He said cutting you off, bringing his face closer to yours. “I-I mean it would be great but its not really my main priority…” you said quietly while looking down at your shoes. “Hm...well I don’t know mine either, and I haven’t even the faintest clue! I just know they love singing this song about a line without a hook. It’s a pretty catchy tune though, Wakatoshi-kun also likes it….” He continued, but you didn’t hear much after that. 

It was him. He was your soulmate. There was no denying it. The songs you were singing, were his. The songs he was singing, were yours. It was all coming together. Your close friend of three years, Satori Tendou, was your soulmate. The person you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with. The person you would get married to and have kids with. Oh my gosh, kids with Tendou?!? I bet they would all have red hair…heh…cute…“Anyways, we’ll talk more after practice y/n-chan!” he said which made you meet his gaze. He handed you the towel and water bottle, throwing in a wink on his way back to the court. A feint blush coated your cheeks at the gesture. After sitting back down on the bench thoughts came flooding to your mind so quickly, the main one being…

How you were going to tell him.

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

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[omgkatsudonplease]

[ficlet, bagginshield] all’s fair in love and war (bridgerton au)

If there had been days between the Great Smials Assembly and the Bywater Ball, Thorin doesn’t notice them. The sun rises and sets as always, while he goes on visits to the Tower Hills and the Elostirion, talking with the wardens who maintain the white towers looking out to Sea. 

He’s seen so much of Eriador that he’s almost sick of it, but he just needs to tough it out for a couple more weeks before the hunt season starts in the Ered Luin. They’ll be getting there just in time for the Firebeard Midsummer Feast as well, which will be quite exciting to see. 

On the night of the Bywater Ball, Thorin forgoes his usual coach and pony. The venue is within walking distance, after all, and the night is wonderfully warm. Other people seem to have had the same thoughts, because the roads are fairly clogged with ball-goers dressed in finery. 

The dance is down by the Water, not far from the Party Field where the season-opening ball had been. Thorin can’t help but chuckle at that, remembering Bilbo colliding with him while trying to avoid Miss Bracegirdle. Why had he been so rude? He could kick his past self for it.

“Thinking about our first meeting?” wonders Bilbo’s voice at his elbow. Thorin turns, unable to stop his smile when he sees the crown of daisies in Bilbo’s hair. 

“Where did you get that?” he asks. 

“Oh, this?” Bilbo chuckles. “My cousin Prim.” He laughs. “It’s not clashing with my outfit, is it?”

Thorin’s heart skips a beat as he takes in the blue-and-silver ensemble for tonight. It’s so close to Durin blue that it hurts.

“We almost match,” he says instead. “One of us is going to have to change.”

“You should try wearing red once in a while,” replies Bilbo. “I think it would be quite fetching on you.” 

Thorin huffs in amusement, as the next dance for the ball starts to play. “Dance with me, Bilbo,” he suggests. Bilbo nods happily, and Thorin takes his hand and leads him out into the crowd. 

This dance goes in lively circles. Bilbo lets him take the lead, spinning in and out of Thorin’s arms without a second thought. Each time, Thorin counts down the seconds until Bilbo is in his arms again, his heart still weighed down by the choice he has to make tonight. 

He has to tell Bilbo his feelings. He has to apologise for breaking their agreement. And he has to prepare himself for the possibility that maybe Bilbo is still pretending, and doesn’t truly love him back. 

Thorin is so lost in thought he makes a wrong step, colliding with the other couples in their group as he does so. Bilbo apologises on his behalf, smoothing over ruffled feathers without a second glance. Thorin falls back in line quickly, gripping Bilbo’s hands behind their backs for the promenade.

Bilbo’s gaze doesn’t leave his own, not even when the lanterns in the trees surrounding the Water begin to flicker into life, drawing excited gasps from the other revellers. In the golden lantern-light, Bilbo’s face seems to glow ever-so-softly, his lips slightly parted as he continues to hold Thorin’s gaze.

It’s not the first time Thorin has imagined what Bilbo’s lips would feel like. He’s certain it won’t be the last, either. 

“Something on your mind?” wonders Bilbo as he spins out of Thorin’s arms again, changing hands with their neighbouring dancers. Thorin chuckles, especially when Bilbo returns to his side.

“You have keen eyes, Master Hobbit,” he remarks. 

Bilbo laughs. “Well, your smile is a little sadder tonight, that’s all,” he replies, and Thorin almost freezes on the spot at that.

“Sadder?” he echoes. 

“You tell me.” Bilbo gives him a bracing smile. “If I were a betting Hobbit, I would say it’s because you miss your home.” 

Thorin chuckles at that. No, if there’s something he’s going to miss, it’s probably Bilbo. Bilbo and his eggs and paintings and wit and smile — every aspect of him almost perfectly tailored to what Thorin thinks a home should be. Happy. Full of laughter. 

(No magnificent stone pillars or fluted golden banquet halls. No fear of dragons or gold, and no grief over long-lost fathers.)

The tug-of-war between his heart and his duty is making his head spin. As soon as the song ends, Thorin makes his excuses and pulls away from Bilbo’s side, striding away from the lantern-lit venue of the Bywater Ball towards the Party Field and the stately oak tree at its centre. It doesn’t take long for him to seclude himself underneath its boughs, sitting down among the roots as he tries to catch his breath. 

He’s suddenly brought back to the garden of wisteria at Long Cleeve Hall, just before Bilbo crossed paths with him that night. He’d been cornered by so many inquisitive Hobbit-lasses at the time that he’d given them all the slip at the first opportunity. This time, the only person he’s running from is the same person he wants with all of his heart to run towards. 

“Thorin?” 

Mahal’s beard, thinks Thorin in frustration. How did he know I would be here?

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” says Bilbo, suddenly appearing in front of him, kneeling down a little ways away. “You did seem a bit peaked, and... and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t through some fault of my own.”

“No,” says Thorin quickly. “It was not.”

Bilbo nods solemnly. “Okay then. I know we have one more dance, but if you needed to leave early, I can make your excuses to the rest of the lot.”

“That will not be necessary,” replies Thorin, already rising to his feet. “I do not require your pity.”

Bilbo’s eyes narrow as he rises to his feet as well. “Well, pardon me for my concern,” he replies a little peevishly, and Thorin realises a little too late that his desperation to put some sort of kingly affect to his words has evidently hurt the Hobbit. “None of this is part of the charade, if you must know. I was genuinely concerned about you, because for some Giver-forsaken reason, I’ve come to genuinely care about you.”

“I cannot afford to look weak,” says Thorin, even though this is the weakest his resolve has ever been. With his figure silhouetted by the lights of the party, Bilbo looks not of this world. Ethereal. A true-life Giver of Fruits. 

“No one said anything about you looking weak!” exclaims Bilbo, now stepping closer to him, topaz eyes flashing dangerously. “I know most of your existence is putting on a brave face for Erebor, for the Shire, for everyone else in Middle-earth, but — have you thought — have you considered that maybe there are people out there who would think you even braver if you’d step back and let them worry about you for a bit?”

Thorin is briefly struck by the sheer absurdity of it all. This Hobbit is but a brief spark in the timeline of his own life, and yet that brief spark of his is all that’s needed to set the rest of himself aflame. 

And with that flame now burning into a bonfire inside him, Thorin steps forward and captures Bilbo’s lips with his own.

~~

Bilbo cannot believe this is happening to him. Of all the possibilities out there for how this conversation between them would go, he had not seriously considered kissing to be on the table. And yet, here they are. 

Alone. Together. Kissing.

When they break apart, the Dwarf-king’s eyes fly wide open, almost apologetic. Bilbo quickly disabuses him of that notion, stepping forward and pressing Thorin into the trunk of the Party Tree. Thorin’s hands come up to tangle in his hair, pulling him close, pulling their bodies flush against one another. 

This is everything Bilbo has ever dreamed of, and more. 

There’s a sudden pause, and then the world moves so fast Bilbo’s head spins at it. The trunk of the Party Tree slams into his back, the momentary shock bursting back into white-hot pleasure as Thorin captures his lips again, and then ventures away from his lips down the curve of his jaw, the line of his neck. Bilbo gasps, arching into Thorin’s touch, his hands tugging Thorin forward by the lapels of his coat. In the distance, the Bywater Ball plays on, and they are ensconced in the distant shadows of the Party Tree, mostly hidden —

Bilbo freezes. Are they mostly hidden? What if someone saw? His respectability would absolutely come crashing down. To be caught taking such liberties without a betrothal? Why, that was absolutely unheard of for a Hobbit of his pedigree! 

Almost as if in response to Bilbo freezing, Thorin freezes too, reality crashing into him just as quickly. He steps back from Bilbo, wiping his lips with his hand. 

“My deepest apologies, Mr Baggins,” he says, the formality of his words like a knife to Bilbo’s gut. “I did not mean to behave in such an unseemly fashion.”

“N-nor I,” stammers Bilbo, his heart still rabbiting frantically in his chest. He inhales, though the very act of it feels pained at the sight of absolute misery on Thorin’s face. “But I did enjoy it.”

Thorin’s expression somehow sinks even further at that. “As per our agreement, this courtship cannot go anywhere. Even though... even though...” His expression pinches, like he’s choking on the words he needs to say. “Even though I hold you in the highest regard, I still do not intend to marry.”

Bilbo wants to laugh at that, laugh at how un-Thorin these words are even though they’re coming out of Thorin’s stupid mouth. He wants to tell Thorin to take those words and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine. But instead, all he manages to say is:

“So you would sooner see the Golden Hare hunted for another season than marry me?”

“Bilbo.” How can his name on Thorin’s lips sound so much like a prayer, even when he’s in the process of hammering Bilbo’s heart to pieces? “You know that is not what I meant —”

Bilbo sidesteps him, stumbling back from the Party Tree. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he replies, with an almost comical bow, “that I could not be of more use to you.”

And with the pieces of his heart still rattling in his chest, Bilbo turns away from the Dwarf-king and heads back towards the party.

[hopelikethemoon]

JoJo (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: JoJo  Rating: PG-13 Length: 1800 Warnings: Fluff! Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set July 1993. Javier POV. Becca, I owe you for this prompt! Summary: Javier gets up to take care of Josie. 

@grapemama​ @seawhisperer​ @huliabitch​ @pedropascalito​ @rogrsnbarnes​ @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns​ @gooddaykate​ @livasaurasrex​ @ham4arrow​ @plexflexico​​ @readsalot73​ @hdlynn​​ @lokiaddicted​​ @randomness501​ @fioccodineveautunnale​​  @roxypeanut​​ @snivellusim​​ @lukesrighthand​​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​ @awesomefandomsunited​​ @ah-callie​​ @swhiskeys​​ @lady-tano​​ @beskar-droids​​ @space-floozy​​ @cable-kenobi​​ @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes​​ @findhimfives​​ @pedrosdoll​​ @frietiemeloen​​ @arrowswithwifi​​ @random066​​ @uncomicalhumour​​ @heather-lynn​​ @domino-oh-damn​​ @cyarikaaa​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​  @yabby-girl​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​​ @punkass-potato​ @coredrive​ @pascalesque​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​ @queenquazar​ @sabinemorans​ @buckstaposition​ @holkaskrosnou​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​ @seeking-a-great–perhaps

“We are going to let your mommy sleep, okay?” Javier said softly. He carefully supported Josie with one arm as he pulled open the refrigerator door and grabbed one of the bottles of breastmilk off the shelf.

He adjusted her in his arm, bouncing her a little as she fussed. “I know, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of her head as he turned and moved to the sink to run some warm water over the bottle to take the chill off. 

“Shh. Shh.” He rubbed his hand over her back, “Don’t wake your mommy up, JoJo. She needs all the sleep she can get.”

Javier shut off the faucet and headed back down the hall to the nursery. 

He wished he could be there every night to do this for her. She was juggling motherhood, the end of mat-leave, and working her ass off at the office. 

Last night he’d had every intention of making it over to her apartment, but he had worked late and ended up falling asleep on his sofa when he swung by his own place to grab a suit for tomorrow — well, today now. 

And of course, Josie had been a little terror. Her mother had looked like shit when she rolled into the office. It killed him that he couldn’t comfort her at work. But she panicked if he so much as lingered at her desk for too long. 

Javier couldn’t risk doing something wrong. Not when he still considered their relationship to be a precarious thing. 

“That’s it, princesa.” Javier drawled out as he nestled her into the crook of his arm as she started sucking at the bottle contentedly. “We’re going to get you back to sleep in no time.”

Josie curled her little fingers around one of his, holding it as she drank her bottle. God, she was so precious. Even after she’d woken him up at three in the morning. 

He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that this little squirmy baby girl was part of him. She seemed too precious and innocent to have a single drop of his blood in her veins — and yet he knew she was his. 

That one night — the one that had been a long time coming — had given him the greatest little miracle. He had Josie and he had her mother. And even if it wasn’t forever… it was worth it to have them now. 

“I wonder if you’ll have curls,” He remarked as he brushed his fingers over her dark hair. There was a definite wave to her hair. “I had the curliest hair when I was a baby. My mother used to say she was so jealous of how nice it was.” He chuckled at the memory.

Josie squeezed his finger gently as she pulled away from the bottle, her little tongue working at the milk that lingered on her lips. 

“Was that good?” Javier questioned. “I think you need to drink more, sweetheart.” He tilted the bottle back to her lips and she latched back onto it.

“And then you’re going to go back to sleep, JoJo and I’m going to go back to sleep.” It was so easy to talk to her, despite the fact that there was no way she could respond to him. It was cathartic. 

“I hope you grow up to be just like your mother, Josie. She’s a hell of a woman.” He shook his head. “She puts up with so much shit at work, just to make this family of ours work.”

Somehow, she had the patience of a saint. He didn’t know how she did it, but she did. She gritted her teeth and refrained from murdering Chris every goddamn day. 

“She puts up with a lot of shit from me too,” Javier sighed, brushing his fingers over her hair. “I hope by the time you’re older, I’m a man worthy of having a daughter like you, JoJo. I’m trying. For you and for her. I wanna be better.”

Javier wished that he could call his father. Chucho would know what he should do. He used to coach him through all sorts of shit that he got himself into. And he could really use his advice on fatherhood. 

How did it work? How could someone like him deserve this? How did he become the father that Josie deserved? 

Josie stopped drinking and Javier was swift with sitting the bottle aside and cradling her to his chest to burp her. “And then we are going to sleep…” He reminded her softly, kissing the top of her head as she fussed. “You’ve got to be quiet, sweetheart.” 

If someone had told him a year ago that he’d become the father of such a perfect little girl, he would’ve laughed in their face. Him? A father? And yet it felt like the most natural thing in the world. It helped that he had a good partner too. 

She made his life better just simply by letting him be part of hers. He couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

“Javier?”

“Uh-oh,” Javier said lightly as he settled Josie into his arms. “I think we woke your mommy up.” 

She appeared in the doorway of the nursery, wearing one of his tee-shirts she’d commandeered during her first week of maternity leave. “You didn’t wake me.” She told you, rubbing at her eyes as she stifled a yawn. “My body did.” 

“She drank most of the bottle,” He explained, looking back down at Josie in his arms. “I wanted to let you sleep.” 

“I appreciated the few extra minutes I got,” She stepped further into the room, smiling at him. “She kept me up last night.” 

“I know,” Javier frowned. “I really did try to come last night. Had my bag packed and everything.” 

She shook her head as she reached out to stroke her fingers through his hair as she looked down at the two of them. “It’s alright. You’re here now, that’s all that matters, Javi.” She leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “Want me to put her down?”

“Sure, baby.” He passed Josie to her mother, cradling her head until she was securely in her arms. “I’ll clean this up.” He offered, picking up the bottle as he took a moment to watch her as she sank down into the chair with their daughter. “You’re a natural with her.”

“So are you.” She tilted her head to look at him, “I already know that she misses you when you’re not here.”

“Yeah?”

“And so do I.” 

“I feel like shit for not being here,” Javier confessed, working his jaw as he looked away. “I had to help Danny with the reports from last week. It was a fucking nightmare.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked away. “You’ve got me all weekend.”

Her eyes lit up, “Really?”

Javier nodded, scratching at the back of his neck. “The conference today. The one at noon. The assignment got pushed off. There’s shit that needs to be worked on before we tackle it.” 

“I was afraid to ask.” 

“Baby—”

She held up a hand to stop him, “It’s weird, alright? I had months of desk duty when I was pregnant, but… I feel ready to get back out there — with you and…” She looked back down at Josie. “She’s worth it.” 

“Yeah?” Javier questioned hesitantly. 

She rubbed her lips together as she lifted her eyes to meet his. “Yes. I mean, maybe in time I’ll get back out in the field.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?”

“I miss it.”

“Me too.” Javier admitted. “It’s not the same being stuck on a stakeout with Chris or Danny.”

She snorted, “I can’t imagine why.” She rose to her feet and carried Josie over to her crib. “I’ll be back in bed in a few minutes, Javi.”

He let his gaze linger on her for a long moment as he ducked out the door to put the bottle of milk away.

By the time Javier was headed back to the bedroom, she was slipping out of Josie’s nursery with a finger pressed to her lips. 

“Out like a light,” She murmured as she followed him into the bedroom. “Thank you for getting up. I’m glad she’s started taking the bottle better.”

“How’s pumping at work going?”

She made a face, “Aside from having to pump in the bathroom, it’s fine.” She explained, sinking down onto the bed beside him. 

“I’ll kill Chris if he pulls any shit about it.”

She laughed as she draped her arm over his chest, “I’ll kill him first, don’t worry.” She ran her hand up his chest and neck, before cupping his jaw. “I love you.”

His heart skipped a beat, “I love you too, baby.”

She pressed her lips against his bare shoulder, her breath tickling his skin. “Our novellas should be on tomorrow.”

Javier chuckled, “It’s been awhile.”

“Too long.” She brushed her fingers over his collarbone. “I miss a lot of things.”

He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Maybe we can make some time tomorrow while she naps.” Javier suggested, pressing a kiss to the center of her hand. “Has it been long enough?”

“It’s been about… seven weeks.” She ran her thumb over his bottom lip. “Things are still a little sensitive.”

“I would imagine so.”

She shoved him with a laugh, “We can try.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

Javier could only make out her expression when she shifted out of the shadows and into the glow from the window. And he could tell that she was staring at him too. 

“Javier Peña being so diplomatic about not having sex,” She teased, leaning in to kiss him. 

“Oh, fuck off.” He snorted, nipping at her bottom lip. “I’m very diplomatic in the bedroom.”

“So I’ve heard,” She pressed her forehead to his and tilted her head to brush her lips against his once more. “Having you here is almost as good as an orgasm—“

“What?”

“I did say almost.”

Javier slid his arm beneath her and pulled her to his chest. “Have you lost your mind?”

She laughed happily and pressed her face into the crook of his neck. “I’m really tired, you can’t judge me for anything I say.”

“So you’re telling me to ask you anything?”

She tugged at his hair roughly, “Shut up.”

“Baby, you can’t get out of this that easily.”

The soft sound of snoring came as her response and for a split second he was certain she was putting on, but he recognized the slow and steady in-and-out of her breathing. 

Fuck, he wished he could fall asleep that easily. He ran his hand down her spine and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

[krsnbgirl]

Fly High! || Kageyama x Fem!Reader || Part 3

Summary: The volleyball club is very keen on making you join and you find yourself slowly giving in, despite having doubts about yourself. You also find yourself naturally gravitating towards Kageyama without realizing it after one of their practices. Kageyama also finds himself questioning the effects you have on him.

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Fem!Reader

Genre: Rom-Com, Slice of Life, Sports

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: Slight swearing, smoking (for Ukai), Signs of Anxiety from Reader, Timeline heavily based on the anime

Author’s Note: And here is part three of the series! I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you to anyone that has interacted with the first part :) Taglist is still open if any of you would like to be a part of it! Also crossed posted on AO3! xoxo, Ren  ❤

Taglist: @misnmatchedsox​ @monviemoo

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Masterlist

The final bell of the day rang and you groaned as the paper bag sitting next to your desk was calling out your name. It was the middle of the week which meant that you had the apartment all to yourself until your mom returned late from work. You had planned to go to Ukai’s shop to pig out on snacks to take home and eat while playing video games. But it looked like your plans changed as you looked over towards the burgundy uniform that stared back at you. With a sigh, you pushed herself up from your desk and went to start on cleaning up the classroom. You let your mind wander to earlier that day when you were walking around the school during the last break of the day and had bumped into the third years who were conveniently looking for you.

“(Y/N)-chan!” Asahi greeted as the three of them walked up to you. You stepped back and skeptically looked at them.

“Now, now (Y/N)-chan, you don’t need to be looking at us like that.” Sugawara laughed and you scoffed.

“Says the one that also tried to tie me down with the idea of being manager instead of helping me.” You pouted.

Sugawara held up his hands in defense and said, “We all know you can do it (Y/N)-chan.”

“Which is why we’re doing this!” Daichi exclaimed before he ran towards you and threw you over his shoulders.

“Suga you traitor! I can’t believe you were acting as decoy for this! Daichi, put me down!” You whined as you hit his back and kicked your legs in your attempt to try to escape.

In response to your antics, Daichi tightened the grip he had around your waist and fastened his pace.

“Nah, I don’t want to. Besides, we need to complete our mission.” he chuckled.

“What mission?! You guys are crazy, don’t think you can get away with this!” You huffed and continued to pound on Daichi’s back.  

Asahi and Sugawara only laughed at your reaction and Sugawara threw his blazer over your waist. The three third years ignored your pleas and the weird stares coming from students that walked past them.

“There, there (Y/N)-chan. If you only agreed to being manager in the first place you wouldn’t be in this position.” Asahi playfully said.

“We all saw that serve and if anything, this could be helpful for you.” Daichi continued.

“Shimizu-san was the one that asked us to help her find you because she needed to give you something. But we also know you well enough that you’d try to escape if we told you why we needed to talk to you. Or y’know…” Sugawara shrugged before finishing his thought, “corner you and convince you to come with us.”  

You sighed and crossed your arms, glaring at the floor. “Fine, you have a point. But can you please just let me walk?! Do you think I can actually outrun the three of you giants?!”

The boys laughed as Daichi finally set you down in the hallway for third year classes. “True, but we thought this would be more fun.”

Daichi ruffled your hair and you couldn’t help but groan, facepalming and accepting the fact that they’ll never stop messing up your hair. “You guys always just have to go for the hair, huh?”

Pressing your hands together, you looked up and playfully prayed out loud. “Oh kami-sama, what did I do in my previous life to deserve this type of treatment from three giants?”  

“You’re just so fun to tease sometimes, (Y/N)-chan.” Sugawara chuckled as Asahi waved down Shimizu.

She walked up to your group with the brown bag in hand and passed it to you.

“Inside is the practice uniform for us. I know you’re still thinking about it and hopefully these boys have been doing their best to convince you. But we all saw that you were finally opening up on giving volleyball a second chance once you picked up the ball.”

“Once it’s in your body and you get a feel of that court, it’s never going to leave you (Y/N)-chan. Trust me when I say, I know how you feel about being adamant on leaving the court after something happened. It’s all about keeping your perspective open.” Asahi said.

“Sure you had something knock you down, but always remember, it’s better to come back stronger than let yourself drown in what ifs.” Sugawara reminded her.

“Of course, everyone has their own time when it comes to healing. But I know I can see that your time is nearing, (Y/N)-chan. And when that time comes, we’ll be there to support you. The first step is to slowly get back into it, even if it means just doing it on the sidelines.” Daichi said as he gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

“And if anything, Nishinoya-kun is the one person that’s been looking forward to your return onto the court.” Shimizu said.

Taking the bag into your hands, you gave them a small but thankful smile. You wouldn’t admit it to them, but you had missed volleyball. After trying so hard to walk away from the sport, all the emotions you felt after stepping into the gym came at you like a wildfire. After your incident, you distanced yourself from it because of how much your injury affected you. Now one year later, what ifs had begun to enter your mind, especially once Nishinoya began to talk about how Karasuno was picking up their game once more. You couldn’t help but feel jealous of him. He was still able to do the one thing he loved while you were stuck at square one. But now knowing that he’s been wanting you to get back into it, talking about the boys and their games was just a way for him to lure you back into your love for the sport.

The third years could see the look in your eyes change after Shimizu mentioned Nishinoya and smiled at each other. You were like their little sister and all they wanted was the best for you and they knew that it was volleyball. You were one of the most passionate players they’ve seen and they would do anything to see you at your happiest.They weren’t sure if you would ever be able to return back to the court, but being involved as a manager could  be the starting point for you. They just knew that volleyball was destined to always be a part of your life no matter what.

“I hate you guys…” you murmured as you looked away, hugging the bag to your chest.

“We love you too, (Y/N)-chan.” Sugawara smiled and Asahi bent down to rest his arm on your head.

“So does that mean you’ll be our manager then?”

You clicked your tongue and elbowed Asahi before walking away. “I’ll think about it, Goatee Guy.”

“Goatee Guy?!”

You laughed as you finished up your clearing duties, a warm feeling spreading through your chest as you realized how much the third years looked after you. After putting the broom away, you picked up the bag and stared at the uniform that sat inside. With a million thoughts running through your mind, you bit your lip in contemplation as your eyes moved towards the clock in the classroom. Their practice was just about to start and so with another look at the bag, you gathered your things to make your way over to the gym. ‘Screw it, let’s see how this goes’ You thought to yourself.

---

‘Am I really going to do this?’ You thought to yourself as you slowly walked towards the gym after changing into the uniform.

Peeping through the door, you saw that the boys were already inside of the gym warming up. You were about to sneak in, until Hinata ran up to you with his quiz in his hands.

“(L/N)-san! Some parts you taught me were on there, and I got a third of them right!” he happily exclaimed.

Quickly forgetting about what you were  worrying about, you began to jump with Hinata in joy because he managed to pass the quiz with your help. The boys were surprised to see you in the uniform, but nonetheless happy that you were seriously considering becoming one of their managers. Shimizu approached you while Daichi called for their drills to begin and decided to give you the rundown.

“I’m sure you already know by now, but you don’t have to be nervous. Just make sure to be careful of stray shots.”

You gave Shimizu a questioning gaze, as if daring to see just how bad the stray shots can be, and she laughed. “You’ll just have to see for yourself, (Y/N)-chan..”

“Ugh Kiyoko-san that’s no fair…” You playfully whined before following her around to help on whatever needed to be done.

Soon enough, Coach Ukai and Shimizu were throwing balls at the boys during their practice match. As you watched while doing the small tasks that were given to you, you slowly began to understand what Nishinoya was always telling you about the boys. There was the hunger for revenge that drove them to train harder and you could see it in all of their eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh whenever you saw Nishinoya and Tanaka get riled up whenever something great happened. It reminded you of the times when they would just as riled up for you during your matches after Nishinoya began high school.

For a second you took your eyes off of them to check the time and out of the corner of your eye, you saw a stray ball coming your way. Before you could think, your body reacted on its own by squaring off your body and bending down. ‘Wait it’s too high.’ You crossed your arms just in time for the ball to rebound off of your forearms. The boys apologized but were also surprised at your fast reflexes.You casually waved it away and didn’t notice that a certain someone had his eyes on you. Kageyama saw it all happen since he was part of the trio that managed to block Asahi’s spike that headed towards your direction. He couldn’t hide his curiosity and surprise to see someone so aware of their surroundings. It made him wonder what it was like to play against you on the court. Kageyama kept staring at you and it wasn’t until Tsukishima nudged him in the stomach for his attention to return back to the court.

“Oi, Kageyama, we all know that (Y/N) iis cute but who knew that she’d catch the King’s attention. Don’t let her become your weakness if you guys do become a thing. We can’t let your reputation on the court get ruined.” Tsukishima teased.

“Shut up!” Kageyama hissed as his teammates snickered since it was hard to find things to tease Kageyama with.

After making sure that you were fine, Shimizu began to tell you how Karasuno’s offense is among the best in the prefecture. You hummed in response as the conversation continued while dodging or hitting away any stray shots. You snickered as you looked behind Shimizu to see Nishinoya and Tanaka fanboying over the fact that your senpai was talking more than usual. Your best friend met your gaze and gave you an encouraging nod as if to say ‘You’re doing the right thing. As well as “I told you so.”’’ Playfully rolling your eyes at him, you nodded at him to focus back on practicing just as Coach Ukai yelled at them to stop goofing off. You looked back at Shimizu as she observed the team and told you that Karasuno is going to make it to nationals once more.

You were lost in thought for most of the time while Shimizu took on most of the work. You knew that everyone wanted what’s best for you but you didn’t know if being a manager was going to work out for you. Would you be able to keep up? Were you even worthy enough to be their manager? You’ve been out of the game for a year, maybe even longer. Why are they having so much faith in you? With thoughts like these swirling your mind, practice was over before you knew it and Takeda-sensei was giving their announcements.

“...Ouginishi High School requested a match tomorrow and I accepted. They saw us at the Inter High prelims and insisted.” Takeda-sensei said.

The boys cheered and their energy rose up once more as they excitedly talked about their match. You watched them interact with each other and couldn’t help but feel jealous. Your longing for the sport continued to grow the more you interacted with the boys and you didn’t know how to feel. After your injury, you vowed to never return to the sport and yet there you were: back inside a gym filled with other people who loved volleyball just as much as you did. A swirl of emotions began to get the best of you and you quietly excused yourself to take a breather outside while the team cleaned up the gym for the night.

Your mind was torn as you quickly changed back into your school uniform and made your way back to the gym. Shimizu had asked if you wanted to walk home together on her way out, but you quickly declined because you needed to sort out your own thoughts. As you began to make your way towards the gate, you paused in your steps as you heard Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei talk to each other. Your eyes widened as you listened in on their conversation. You felt bad when Takeda shared with Coach Ukai that he  couldn’t get the bus they needed for the team to go to Tokyo. Pursing your lips, your mind flashed to the boys’ excited expressions for their away games. It was important to have a bus and maybe, just maybe you could figure out a way to help them just this once.

“(L/N)-san, are you gonna be our manager?” Hinata asked as he ran up to you.

You jumped and turned around to find him staring at you excitedly. Taking a step back, you tried to figure out what to say to the poor guy since you still didn't have a solid answer.

“You’re going to, right?”

“Oi, Hinata, what are you doing to our (Y/N)-chan?” Tanaka and Nishinoya asked as they approached you.

“You better not pressure her into saying yes. But I’m pretty sure my (Y/N)-chan will say yes anyways.” Nishinoya said as he stared Hinata down.

“If she says no then we have to deal with it, alright kid? But I mean, both of us still hope that you’ll join. We’re just giving you space. Plus when you’re around, Kiyoko-san talks a lot.” Tanaka added.

You  laughed as Daichi knocked both of their heads and Sugawara apologized for their behavior. You waved their behavior away and retorted, “It’s fine, I have to deal with their stupidity on the weekends anyways.”

“Hey!” Tanaka and Nishinoya exclaimed and tried to go after you. Trying to find an escape route, you noticed Asahi and Kageyama approaching and smiled widely. Quickly running behind Kageyama, you held onto the back of his jacket. Peeping behind his tall stature, you stuck your tongue out at them as Asahi stepped in to catch the two idiots. Kageyama could only stand still as he felt your presence while everything went down. The feeling of your hands scrunching up his practice shirt and the weight of your body leaning against his while you looked out from behind caused him to freeze up. He was surprised that you ran up to him and used him as a cover instead of Asahi, who was someone that you were much closer with. What confused him was that it made him happy knowing that you chose him but he simply didn’t know how to react to all of this.

“Let’s all just get along now children.” Asahi sighed as he dragged Tanaka and Nishinoya away from you and Kageyama.

Everyone’s attention was then diverted to Hinata who took out his phone to show the text he had gotten from, Kenma, his friend from Nekoma. You sighed in relief before realizing you were still hanging onto Kageyama. You felt how stiff he was and sheepishly let go before standing in front of him. Rubbing your neck, you awkwardly smiled and looked up at him.

“Sorry Kageyama-kun, I didn’t realize I was still hanging on to you.”

“O-Oh...it’s nothing really. Those two can be a handful sometimes.” he murmured as he felt his cheeks warm.

You softly laughed and smiled back at him. “Right? Well thanks for letting me use you as my shield, Kageyama-kun. Let’s catch up to them.”

Kageyama froze once more when he saw the bright smile you gave him. He snapped back to reality when you began to walk towards the rest of the boys. Clutching his chest in hopes to relieve the pounding behind his ribcage, Kageyama began to slowly understand what was happening to him. He glanced at you once more, who was talking to Tsukishima about your upcoming assignments, as he slowly made his way towards the rest of the team. Kageyama didn’t know how to react to the effect that you were slowly having on him and it was going to be the death of him if it continued to grow.

‘Kami-sama, please help me. I don’t know what to do if this continues to happen whenever I’m around her.’

[bruh-haikyuu]

can i request a scenario with jealous akaashi where his fem!s/o intentionally ignores him and entertain other guys just to piss him off? thankyu x.

A/N: Akaashi fggghg *brain explodes* Fem!MC in here does kyudo (or Japanese archery)!! So I hope you like the limited extent of my knowledge from just watching Tsurune and reading pdfs on kyudo hdjfhdf

P.S: I also made myself a carrd if you want to check it out! (it’s complete with bg music and shit damn); I’m also changing the format of my dividers so you can see them better!

monophobia. | akaashi keiji

word count: 3742

warnings: angst

(n.) the fear of being alone

It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.

You could count on yourself and your godforsaken boyfriend that you’d rather stick your arrows up your ass before you’d admit it was your fault—which it clearly wasn’t.

Your chest guard felt sickly cramped as you tightened the string of your bow. You didn’t even give a second glance to the green lawn that faced the dojo—the arrows you’d fired today wasn’t sticking anywhere close to the target, and frankly, you had hoped that your coping method would fare much better than you’d thought.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the wooden placard hanging from the entrance of the enclosure. Last year, a group of your upperclassmen had bought the gaudy thing from the nearby gift shop as a “parting gift to their cute kouhai”. You remembered the forced grin you and the other members shared when they decided to put it up at the first place anyone would see when they entered the dojo.

Heijoshin. Ordinary mind. An undisturbed heart at all times.

“An arrow won’t hit unless your spirit is in balance: resolute, yet serene,” the voice of the Kyudo Club’s coach echoed in your head.

Was it bothering you that much, your fight with Akaashi? If this lingered in your head, it’d affect your archery performances as well as the impressions you and the rest of the club had worked so hard on forming upon the new members… Maybe you should apologize soon—

Scowling, you clicked your tongue and picked up another arrow. “My mind is as ordinary as it can be. It’s not a problem… it’s not my fault.”

You nocked the shaft to your bow, your glove grazing gently on the fibers of the string. A petty fight wasn’t going to be enough to waver your resolve. If someone had to apologize, it was him. He’d started the whole thing anyway…

Taking a deep breath, the muscles of your shoulders slackened and you raised the bow over your head, drawing the string in an arc so perfect that’d have your upperclassmen and Akaashi gasping in awe. Into the stage of kai*, the wooden placard seemed to glow brightly in your head. This was it. This was going to be the perfect shot… Heijoshin…

You freed your mind off the entire universe and released. Miss.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Just into your second year, your former upperclassmen had bestowed upon you the “honor” of being the Captain of the Kyudo Club—and to think that the tasteless placard in the dojo was weighty enough. Your boyfriend Akaashi, on the other hand, was a hair luckier with his entire Vice-Captain gig going on.

“’Lucky’… In my case, that word would fit better in a phrase like ‘lucky charm’ or ‘lucky fortune’. But about the things that I have to handle, it’s nearly unthinkable even if I’m only second-in-command,” he said, face paling in deep thought.

You laughed and fiddled with the yumibukuro* encasing your bow. “I suppose Bokuto-senpai is proving to be much more extraordinary than we’d thought. The Boys’ Volleyball Club is in for an exciting treat with him as Captain; you’re going to need a lot of lucky charms this time.”

“If we get enough new first-years to subdue him, then maybe it’d be a treat for me. Until then, I’m counting on my lucky charm to make sure I stay grounded.”

You blushed at his words, finding interest at the hem of your blazer—he always had his way to render you flustered even with a poker face on. Noticing the slight bump of your knuckles, Akaashi glanced at your dainty hands against his (though both calloused from hours of intense sports) and threaded your fingers together. Amused, he watched the red on your cheeks deepen.

“I-I’ll do my best so you can do your best, Keiji-san.”

Smiling, he brought your linked hands to eye level. “I look forward to it.”

“Akaashi!”

From around the corner where the both of you were huddled together, third-year Bokuto Koutarou, Captain of the Boys’ Volleyball Club, emerged. At a distance, he really did look like a horned owl just as the rumors said.

“Akaashi, I thought we were going to hand out the flyers together, you sleazy dog… Is that your girlfriend? Hi there, Kyudo-chan! Sorry, but I’m gonna have to take back what belongs to the Volleyball Club for a while, ‘kay?”

You only bowed politely, though roping all the forces in your body to not belt out in laughter. A quiet sigh escaping his lips, Akaashi reluctantly unraveled his fingers from yours and went to pick up the pile of hand-drawn promotions that had been sitting right below the bench. As his back faced you to go and fulfill his club duties, you felt your heart sink.

“Um… Keiji-san?”

He turned around hopefully, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. “Yes, Y/N-san?”

“You’ll be there to see my kyudo demonstration, right?”

A single eyebrow raised, Akaashi chuckled. “Of course, Buchou-san*.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

You laid spread-eagle on the middle of the dojo’s floor thinking about lunch then Akaashi, then lunch, then Akaashi again.

Every muscle in your system was asleep at this point, leaving you rooted to the wooden slats. Your stomach on the other hand was a different case altogether. Maybe you shouldn’t have skipped out on lunch.

Maybe you shouldn’t have fought with Akaashi.

Groaning, you shook your head to dismiss the notion. No way. He started it. What were you feeling so sorry for? Rolling over to your side, you wondered if you could just fall asleep and start a new life inside your head.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Midori, can you check the strings on the bows for me? I’ll just go and get the extra gloves from Ikuya-sensei for a bit.”

Your fellow second-year member meekly picked up one of the ragged bamboo bows and gave you a thumbs-up. Slipping into your indoors shoes as you leave the dojo, you rubbed at your eyes, the fatigue of trying to negotiate with your coach to make your upperclassmen’s placard “more impressionable for the guests” seeping into your head.

Though exhausted, you were satisfied. Last year’s tournament had created a deep image for Fukurodani Academy’s Kyudo Club. While you barely mentioned it, you were proud of the fact that you contributed to many of the perfect shots for your team as their omae*. The result was an unexpected crowd of first-years as well as second and third-years at the Kyudo Club’s booth at today’s opening ceremony.

“Put on a show for them, L/N-san,”  your club’s advisor grinned while handing you a box of new gloves under her desk.

Your face brightened at the thought of finally being able to pull off the shot you’ve been practicing for weeks. And with your boyfriend watching you every step of the way, you were confident you were going to blow their socks off. So far, so good—

“I’ve always liked you, Akaashi-san! Please go out with me.”

You froze like a deer caught in headlights. Quick enough to give you whiplash, you snapped your head in the direction of the wall beside you. Peering over the bricks that separated you from the view, you tiptoed to a level that allowed you to watch the entire affair without being seen.

There he was, like the feminine voice had indicated, your boyfriend Akaashi Keiji in all his glory, a dumbstruck expression painting his face. Standing across him was a second-year girl, someone you’d habitually seen to be from Class 2-2. What was her name again…? Gotou…?

However, the first thing you noticed about the entire rendezvous was that Gotou-san was pretty. Awfully pretty. It took you a moment to process that Akaashi was actually a rather attractive individual too, and for him to get confessed to shouldn’t be much of a surprise to you, or even anyone.

…But why did your chest hurt so much?

“I-I’m sorry, Gotou-san,” your ears perked up at his voice. Akaashi was bowing graciously before the girl in front of him. “I can’t accept your confession.”

You felt rude for even thinking that your faith in Akaashi was hopeless. Just as relief washed over you like a cold torrent, Gotou Hanako suddenly threw herself at your boyfriend with tears streaming down her face. You nearly choked over your own breath.

“I know I can’t have you, but please let me hold you like this for now…!” she sobbed into his uniform.

In your head, Akaashi had already pushed the girl away, reprimanding her of the severity of her extreme advances. In your head, you walked away from the site calmly, knowing that your boyfriend wouldn’t doubt a speck of your relationship. In your head, everything was fine.

But in real life, Akaashi didn’t push her away. In real life, Akaashi stroked her back and let her cling onto him like an anchor. In real life, there was the green monster called envy.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

You smacked your forehead on the side of a shelf storing kyudo uniforms when a rapt knock on the entrance door brought you to wake. You winced at the sharp sting settling on your temple; though you couldn’t see it, you felt a faint patch of red and purple already forming there.

“Sorry for the intrusion, Y/N—um… L/N-san.”

Dizzied from your sudden nap and the slight concussion that the shelf had given you, you’d barely noticed that Akaashi had entered the compound. He looked exactly the same as he always did—tousled dark hair, with a slight jaded look to his eyes. Neatly pressed uniform, direct orders from his mother, paired with the porcelain tone of his skin. But the tense air to him made worlds of difference, and you nearly mistook him for a stranger because of it.

In his clutches was a dainty lunch box, wrapped neatly with a ginko-patterned cloth that made the blood rise to your face. It so happened to be the exact same ginko-patterned cloth that you used to bundle up your own lunch. Alas, for a ‘lucky charm’, you wouldn’t consider it lucky to have the one thing that could save you from starvation to be held by the last person you wanted to see in that moment.

“Your younger sister asked me to bring it to you,” he said. The cold tone he used did nothing to blend well with the atmosphere. “Technically, she just gave it to me then left.”

You cursed your sister in your mind, making sure she received as much astral flicks to the forehead as possible. Indignantly puffing out your chest, you snatched the box away from Akaashi while doing your absolute best to not get vacuumed into the soft gaze that he held.

“Thank you very much. A-Akaashi-san,” you wanted to vomit with the way you churned out his last name. Had you grown so accustomed to calling him by his first name that you’d completely forgotten how to call him by his last?

Please say something. Despite the wall you had built in your head to separate the both of you, you didn’t want it. You could honestly just apologize and get the whole thing over with, but what was so difficult about doing that?

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

You’d expect the audience to work up a healthy sweat in your palms, but even with their interested gazes, you felt absolutely nothing. Meanwhile, Akaashi was seated elegantly at the front of the crowd, giving you what could be the warmest smile in the world.

Against your usual responses to him, you quickly turned away, effectively barricading him from you. You’d decided after the spectacle you had seen, that nothing was going to distract you from performing the perfect shot. Not even the kind glances Akaashi was giving you.

“The Captain of the Kyudo Club will now demonstrate the standard hassetsu*,” Midori announced to the crowd as you approached the front lines.

All eyes fell on you as you carefully positioned yourself then your bow according to your target. When you arrived at the point to nock your arrow in its cranny, your breaths fell jagged and the world seemed to fall apart.

Why did that have to happen? Why did you have to see that right before a pivotal moment like this? Akaashi knew how risky it was to pull off that move in public, so why did he do it? You, who had been so confident about showing the audience a breathtaking exhibition, now hesitated of the outcome of your shot.

You didn’t even realize you had already fully pinned your string back in all its force… How long had you been holding that? Was it eight seconds already? Gritting your teeth in prayers, you hoped that it was enough and released, the whinnied whip of the arrow nearly throwing you backwards.

Your chest dropped at the sight of the target. Your arrow hit right on, but it was dangerously close to the frames. Too long, you scowled, chastising yourself. That draw was timed too long.

Behind you, Akaashi made a startled face that quickly contradicted all the smiles he had given you so far. Seeing his guiltless expression only made you even more irritated. “Would a volunteer like to have a try?” A couple of eager hands shot up like fireworks. You were almost impressed that they still wanted to try out even after seeing a shot like that.

However, in the crowd of excited figures, you spotted a first year who’d been eyeing you virtuously since he had entered the dojo. Come to think of it, you’d seen him in last year’s tournament too… he’d been staring at you wide-eyed back then as well—taking in your posture and movements like a living camera despite only being a volunteer staff at the venue.

“You there. At the front, what’s your name?” you called out him. Were you even thinking? If so, what were you thinking of? You didn’t even care. You were just… angry. “Do you have any experience in kyudo?”

His back straightened like a ruler when he stood, the wisps of his black hair flying all over his face as he smoothed out his uniform before you. “T-Takehashi Keigo from Class 1-2!  U-um, my experience… In my first year of middle school I joined a neighborhood kyudo association… I’m afraid I’m not as good as you though. I-I saw your performance at the tournament last year… it was amazing.”

Looking between Akaashi and the boy in front of you, you simpered. Jackpot.

Handing him your bow and glove, you made sure your skin lingered against his for a tad bit too long; just enough for a certain someone’s pair of rain-colored eyes to notice. “Show me how you handle the bow, Takehashi-kun. I will guide you from there.”

Like the cherry blossoms bordering the fence outside the dojo, the boy’s face bloomed into a vibrant shade of pink and red. As Takehashi took his stance, it came to your attention, that for someone who only had limited exposure to kyudo grounding, he wasn’t bad. If this wasn’t a case to simply make your boyfriend feel bitter, you would probably probe into his skills a little bit further.

“Ah, wait. Your hikiwake* is a bit shaky. Here, let me…”

If your head hadn’t been clouded with acid, you probably wouldn’t be doing this. You probably wouldn’t be sidled so cozily against the shoulder of an unknowing first-year with an obvious devotion for you. You probably wouldn’t be acting like such a petty girlfriend—what was Akaashi’s head clouded with when he embraced Gotou like that? Was he thinking of you when he did it?

Akaashi’s glare was drilling through your back already. Even inside the cool dojo, you could feel the heat seeping inside your kyudogi*. You didn’t want to stop. A lone voice within you screamed of selfishness, but at what cost? You almost smiled at the thought of giving him a taste of his own medicine.

By the time demonstrations were over, there was a half-full applications log for the Kyudo Club, a near empty dojo, and an evidently disgruntled Akaashi Keiji. The latter had quickly dragged you away to the quiet crook harboring the lawn maintenance shed with no words to spare.

“…What were you doing?” he gritted, shoes tapping impatiently and throwing bits and pieces of sand at your feet.

You frowned, “What’re you accusing me of?”

“There’s nothing to accuse you of if you were doing it on purpose,” Akaashi shot back. “You were practically holding that first year much too close to be modest. I don’t know what kind of message you’re trying to convey to me, but you have to stop.”

“What if I said that it was purely accidental?” you, too, felt increasingly impatient. Apologize already, you thought, as if he would miraculously hear you.

“Don’t peg me for Bokuto-san; I’m not gullible. I knew you were deliberately doing it, Y/N-san.”

Your lips flattened into a thin line. You were running out of composure by now; the fuse was lit and ready to go. “Does that make hugging Gotou-san much less of a intentional action then?”

The missile has blown and the fog thickened. You watched the color drain from your boyfriend’s features—his pale skin was somehow even more paler than before. Meanwhile, his eyes were the perfect image of horror: its reflective surface bounced off your image like a broken mirror, distorting you and the world around it.

You took his silence as a cue to continue. “I saw you. I saw her confess to you. I saw you hug her even though you rejected her… I don’t get it, Keiji-san. Why did you do it? Did it ever occur to you that you had a girlfriend?”

“I was just as confused as you. I was only consoling her and that was that,” the way his voice grew louder only made your chest tighten. “If someone had rejected you, wouldn’t you want to be comforted? Or is the great L/N Y/N too inhospitable for that?”

You and Akaashi never argued. Never. Everyone had said you were like the pieces of a perfect jigsaw puzzle. Compatible in all angles. But now, seeing him yell and hearing yourself yell was the antithesis of that entire allegory. It was like you had bent yourselves apart by force.

“I wouldn’t know because I never confessed to anyone! You were the one who confessed to me first, moron,” you seethed, blood boiling in your veins.

“Then, I wish I never did!”

And the entire world fell apart.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Wait!”

You had blurted the word out so easily. If only it was just as easy to say it when you fought… things would be a little lighter.

Akaashi, who had earlier looked arguably reluctant, turned on his heel rather swiftly at your call. Now that you’d done the trick, what was next? Apologizing immediately seemed very anticlimactic and you weren’t one to admit loss so effortlessly—

“L/N-san, if it’s not important, I’m sure you don’t need me here,” your last name sounded like an alien language on his tongue. It was hostile and definitely foreign.

‘Hostile’ to hell! you huffed as you watched his back drift away ever so slowly before you. “D-don’t go!”

Fantastic, now he was looking at you like you were the alien in the room. Meeting his steely gaze, your feet shifted nervously against the wooden slats. A stubborn knot tightened in your throat, nearly forcing out what you’d presumed to be vomit settling behind your mouth.

“Please don’t leave me, Keiji-san…” your eyes flickered fleetingly before finally descending on your feet, “I’m scared of going back to being alone. I-I understand if you want to break up with me but—”

“Y/N-san, I’m not breaking up with you.”

The sound you made was an incoherent mixture of a relieved sigh and cry of shock. Whatever the noise was, your expression on the other hand was enough to make Akaashi’s cheeks puff up in subdued laughter. You didn’t say it, but you really did miss his smile; the way it’d stir up all the warmth in your stomach, it formed bubbles of fluttery comfort that rose all the way up to your head.

“I-I thought you were going to break up with me,” he said as-a-matter-of-factly. “What I did was unacceptable. I was overwhelmed by Gotou-san’s actions and I became so angered by your, uh… ‘vengeance’ that I didn’t think to consider your feelings more. I was selfish, Y/N-san. And I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. Please forgive me for the awful things I’ve done to you.”

Were you even breathing anymore? When was the last time you inhaled air? When you murmured his name, like the mantra that it seemed like, all the weight you had been shouldering the past few days was finally knocked off your back. You could finally breathe.

“How unfair, Keiji-san.”

“Huh?!”

“That apology was too sentimental for me to outdo,” you continued rather gruffly, though in your heart, the gates for Akaashi was already wide open. “But, still… I’m really sorry for what I did. I see that the stunt I pulled off was pushing it too much… I promise, Takehashi-kun and I don’t have any further relations aside from captain to club member. In that way, I want to fix what happened… If that’s alright with you?”

When Akaashi thought about something serious, he became as still as a statue. In your dojo, he stood unmoving, you were afraid if you were to say something he’d shatter and turn into dust. Yet, the grim look would have fooled you if it weren’t for the words he’d uttered next.

“Y/N-san, would it be appropriate if I kissed you right now?”

“Wh-what?!” your lips tingled along with the searing heat that clouded your cheeks. God, he was really high-maintenance whenever he wanted to be. “Sorry, but I think that’s impossible r-right now! If you did that, I’ll definitely—”

As you rambled on, you didn’t realize that Akaashi had moved closer to you and ruffled your hair endearingly. He laughed, “I know, I know. I just missed seeing your flustered face. If a kiss won’t do… then, can you show me your archery?”

Picking up your bow leaning on the side of a shelf, you beamed brightly. Your heart was clearer than the sky that day. Heijoshin. No misses.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

kai - the sixth stage of the hassetsu: the full draw

yumibukuro - cloth casing for the bow

buchou-san - ‘chief’ (of a club)

omae - the first archer to shoot in a tachi (a group of archers shooting, usually five)

hassetsu - the eight stages of a shooting ritual

hikiwake - the fifth stage of the hassetsu: the draw

kyudogi - the kimono-like top of standard kyudo gear

[giantmuschroom]

Writer’s Guild - Mark

For celebrating the Got7 newest comeback i was lucky enough to be part of this colaboration with the most wonderfull people on this planet. Words cannot describe how gratefull i am! 

So here is my story, hope you will enjoy it! 

The collab is now complete <3  Here you can find everything: Intro / Mark / Jaebeom / Jackson / Jinyoung / Youngjae / Bambam / Yugyeom

“It wasn’t interesting in the slightest!”

“Why should you be interested in this book? You shouldn’t, because the book itself is boring.”  

“As much I trust JYP Publishing, this was a really bad move.”  

“The most boring book known to man.”

Mark opened his eyes, when the carriage bumped on another rock. He hadn’t dreamed of that fiasco for a long time. Maybe it was the change that bought back unpleasant memories. He looked out of the window and the castle came in to view. It was a magnificent building; it was his fresh start.  

You were really proud of your job. The only one in the family who got to work in the castle and serve the Wentworth family. After four years of good services, you got to be head maid for the library and two other reading rooms.  

You loved the library, the serenity of the place, the smell of books. Furthermore, you loved the old librarian.  He was a kind one, full of knowledge. One day he caught you looking at one of the books and taught you how to read. Since then you would spend your free time in the library. One day, you found him in his chair dead. You cried the hardest at his funeral. However, life goes on with the Wentworth family and as any noble family they hired a new librarian, who will take care of the books, buy new ones and take care of them. So, they could boast about their wealth.  

After completing your duties, you climbed the ladder to the highest shelf. There were your favourite books, not the fancy ones, but the stories that spoke to your heart. You reached for one, standing on your tippy toes.  

“Oh, come on! I want to read you,” you said. Then you heard a chuckle in the library, turned too quickly and the next thing you know, you are falling to the ground. You brace yourself for impact, but it never came.  

“What do we have here,” said an amused voice above your head. You opened your eyes and looked upon the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.

“I’m Y/N. I’m the maid here,” you said and he put you down. “And who are you?” you asked suspiciously.  

“I’m Mark, and this is my library,” he answered.  

“Your library?”  

He smiled. “I’m the new librarian, so kind of.”  

“I loved Mr. Westley,” you said with a sad smile.  

“He was the kindest man I ever knew. It was him who taught me how to read and then he let me read in here when I had free time,” you explained yourself and looked at him with a hopeful expression.  

He picked up the novel and with a “Just return it, when you are done,” he gave it to you. You smiled at him and ran away.  

                                                        ***

“Mark?” He lifted his head and looked at you. You were curled up in a chair by the library window, book on your lap and shoes down.  

“What does aggrandize mean?” you asked.  

“What do you mean?”  

“It says in here ‘it was aggrandized’” he stood up from his desk and walked to you. Your eyes never left the book, but suddenly you felt his breath fan your face.  

“See? Here, this sentence, I don’t understand,” you say and looked at him. His face was so close.  

“Oh this…wait…what are you reading?” he asked.  

“It’s Tales from the village by M.T.. It’s a really good book. The stories are short and sometimes the author uses difficult words for me, but the stories are fun,” you said excitedly and showed him the cover. He rose quickly and turned his back to you.  

“What’s wrong?” you said quietly.  

“It’s nothing. I have lots of work, you should go,” he said sharply.  

                                                 ***

You avoided Mark for an entire week. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were hurt by his cold demeanor. However, it was your duty to clean the library. That’s when you noticed the paper on Mark’s desk.  

Dear Y/N,

It seems like you have been avoiding me. So, I chose to write this letter. I’m sorry I reacted like that. The truth is, and believe me I don’t say it lightly, I’m the author of the book. Apparently, it’s the most boring book in the existence of books. It’s a painful memory for me. I wanted to be the world’s greatest writer, but I gave up after one unsuccessful try. Nobody liked the book and here you are. Enjoying my stories and questioning me about the difficult words I used.  So, I wanted to say thank you.  

Mark.

You smiled. He had really neat handwriting, you thought. You tucked his letter in one of your pockets and walked from the library.  

                                                   ***

“Here is your tea,” you placed the tray on his desk.  

“Thank you, Y/N” he smiled at you.  

“What are you doing?” you asked.  

“Well, Lord Wentworth ordered new books from Sir Walter Scott. So, I’m writing it in the catalogue of the library. I must say my predecessor did a really good job at keeping track of the books,” he explained.

“Oh, so this has a list of all the books in the library?” you asked excitedly.  

“Yes, yes it does. And here are blank pages for the new ones,” he pointed out.  

“That’s marvelous!” you clapped your hands together.  

“So why did you stop writing?” you blurted out suddenly.  

“You read the book,” he said.  

“Yes, I did. We all did actually. I read it to the other staff and they enjoyed it too. Not the difficult words though,” you said.  

“They did?” you laughed at his shocked expression.  

“Yes, maybe the stuck-up city society doesn’t understand, but for us common folks? Your stories hit the right note,” you said.  

“If you put it that way… the bad thing is most of the common folks don’t know how to read. And if you want to make money with writing, you need to please the high society,” he explained.  

“That’s not fair,” you pouted. Mark started laughing and you never felt better.  

                                                   ***

Your friendship with Mark only grew stronger. You spent every free minute in the library. He taught you about the books and you just talked to him about the servants living in the castle. Until Lord Wentworth decided to get his hands on one particularly rare edition of Don Juan by Lord Byron, and naturally he sent his librarian after it.  

“You don’t look so good Y/N,” said one of your fellow maids.  

“Is it because a certain librarian isn’t here?” said another playfully and you glared at her.  

“We are friends,” you clarified it, but it didn’t sound right. It was so much more for you.  

“Yes, friends. Ada and Jon are friends too, that’s why they are getting married on Saturday” both of them started laughing.  

“Stop it, you two. Y/N, you have a letter here,” the footman interrupted your circle.  

“Is it from your friend?” asked the girls and started laughing again.  

Dear Y/N,

Is it inappropriate of me to say that I miss you? Our afternoon teas, your curious questions and your smile. The journey was a long one. There are so many people who want the book. I don’t know if I will be successful. Let’s hope for the best. How is life in the castle? Did Daisy overcome the cold? How is Ada and Jon’s wedding preparations going? Is Miss Cicely still annoying? Are you keeping our library clean? Did you read a new book? I have so many questions and you are so far away. So, prepare your answers when I get back. Say my greetings to all the staff and if it’s not too forward, think of me.  

Mark.

You clutched the letter to your chest. Oh, how you missed him.  

                                                     ***

You didn’t want to seem too eager, but every time you heard a coach arriving, you were at the nearest window looking at who walked out of it. So far it was one suitor for Miss Cicely, mail and supplies. Mark didn’t really say when he will be back, you just heard Lord Wentworth deliver the news about a successful purchase of the book. So, you expected Mark every day now. You had so much to tell him.  

So, when you heard the wheels of another coach you said to yourself that you wouldn’t look. It’s the supplies again since the Wentworth’s are planning the big dinner. You are a strong woman, you will not look.  

“Oh…The librarian is back,” said your friend.

“What?” you turned to her and then made your way to the window. It was him! So, you started to run.  

Mark passed the package to one of the footmen and made his way to the hall. When he heard footsteps approaching, he turned and saw you running.  

You clash with Mark and almost knock him to the ground. Your hands around his neck and bodies pressed together.

“Life was dreadful without you! Daisy is fine, the cold didn’t last long. Ada and Jon got married and you weren’t there! Miss Cicely has another suitor, the girl will never marry, she is too picky! And yes, it’s a little annoying. Of course, I kept the library clean, what have you got me for? No, I didn’t read anything and …” you stopped to catch your breath, but you didn’t have chance to finish your speech. Marks lips locked yours in kiss and you surrendered.

“And I missed you terribly,” you finished when he ended the kiss. So, with a smile you reached for another.  

                                                   ***

Several months later

“Honey! It’s here,” you called. He looked at you and smiled.  

“Come on. Open it! Hurry!” you practically danced. He carefully removed the wrapping paper and took the book out.  

“Letters to my wife by M.T.,” he read the title.  

“It’s beautiful! Look at it,” you beamed as he held the small book in his hands. The title was gold and the book itself was dark blue.  

“I’m so proud of you. Your new book! Without the difficult worlds,” you laughed.  

“But full of love,” said Mark and placed a kiss on your forehead.

[oikaw-ugh]

Sino (Kageyama x m!reader)

a/n: Yes. Another Kageyama fic. Idk what's with this King and I keep writing for him. And yes, this is a bxb fic. Yes, I'm a fujoshi. Yes. This is also influenced with Given anime? It's on air at Japan and I can't watch it >=[ 

 A song fic(?) of Unique Salongga's 'Sino' (that shit is so good)

Warning:

-typographical and grammatical mistakes and my lack of vocabulary.

-also, m!reader is described with characteristics that are common for (East) Asian boys.

-mention of blood and suggestive words indicating of sick!y/n

Who would've thought I would love you?

Kageyama stared longingly at the court. This shocked everyone-no, shock is an understatement. Astonished? Baffled? They were surprised to see him voluntarily ask for a water break, a request that is most certainly out of his character as he has always been loyal to volleyball training.

As much as Kageyama despised being off the court, he needed to. For he couldn't collect his self altogether. Despite his collectiveness, his certainty as his fingers passed the ball to the team, he couldn't help but to have a slight resist everytime.

"Sensei, I'm here on behalf of the student council."

He looked to his right, only to see him. He didn't even bother to give Kageyama a side glance as his entire attention is alloted for the club's teacher.

It didn't bother Kageyama. Instead, he took this as an opportunity to freely wander his eyes on him.

He was free to stare at his drowsy brown eyes, his lips that are in a straight line, his neatly cropped hair that covered up to his brows.

He probably should thank the sport for training his eyes to be wary as possible because even the way his black uniform hung loosely at his unathletic body did not escape Kageyama's vision.

He glanced at Kageyama.

Kageyama had to look away and suddenly, he is reminded by his brain of the very first encounter he had with him.

Kageyama grunted as he scrubbed the green board with full force, channeling his hate on the inanimate object as the fact that Hinata gets to go to the gym earlier than him irritates his skin.

God, who invented cleaning duties?

Kageyama's self hate is disrupted as he heard the sliding door screech. Surprised, he looks at the door, only to find an oddly familiar lad who share the same uniform as him.

"Kageyama-kun," the way Kageyama's name sounded with his flat voice made Kageyama's insides upset, "Hello."

Kageyama did not react but he only stared. Unvoiced curiosity escaping from his eyes instead. Who is he? Why does he know my name? The back of his mind asked.

His questions remained unanswered. Instead, this unfamiliar yet familiar guy walked his way towards the the lockers at the back, pulling a worn-out mop.

"I'm a cleaner, too," he said this in a voice with no intonation, as if he's only speaking for the sake of respect.

Kageyama, despite his thoughts, nodded. Looking back at the board again and this time, his scrub lighter than before, suddenly growing conscious knowing that he shares the room with someone else.

He's used to silence. Kageyama's not much of a talker himself. And yet he found the silence between him and the other deafening and nerve-wracking. The back of his mind played a couple of conversation starters that he knew he can use. But then, he lacked the courage-

"Oh."

"Oh."

The two lads jumped in surprise as their backs hit one another. Kageyama abruptly looked at his back and so did the latter, both surprised as they see the other staring at them.

"I'm sorry," Kageyama apologized with his usual gravelly voice.

"It's alright," the other replied, slightly chuckling this time, rendering Kageyama surprised as this person's dull look dissolved into a forced smile.

Kageyama glanced into his pin attached on his left chest.

It shows '(L/N)(Y/N)', written in legible Nihonggo characters.

Who will confess their feelings?

As much as Kageyama wanted to revolve his entire life at volleyball, the harsh reality forbids him to do so.

Kageyama blankly stared at his paper, the ballpoint of his pen stucked on the first line where he has already written his name but as if he is on court, his thoughts are blocked. Not giving him the ability to write his reaction paper from the film they just watched.

"Kageyama-kun."

Kageyama awkwardly sat straight. His hands slightly raising his paper as he looked up only to see (L/N)-kun staring at him. This realization made him feel odd. His stomach churning the same way he did when he first met (L/N)-kun. His ears feeling hot despite of the blasting aircon across the library's domain.

"May I sit here?" He asked in a voice that sounded unbothered, a fact that Kageyama is in awe. How could he remain so composed at the moment?

Was he the only one who is feeling this way? Are you saying that (L/N)-kun isn't feeling his stomach upset the same way his is? His hands aren't sweating? His breath isn't hitching? Kageyama needed answers.

His thoughts were put into a halt when (L/N)-kun looked up to him, catching him off guard. He wanted to apologize over nothing but he had his tongue tide.

"You weren't watching, were you?" (L/N)-kun asked, his body slightly leaning on the table, allowing Kageyama to see a portion of his collar bones with his uniform's upper buttons unbuttoned. He swallowed what was stuck on his throat.

"The what?"

"The film. You weren't watching the film?"

"I wasn't."

(L/N)-kun sported a soft smile, a smile that got Kageyama choking on his own breath once again, making him softly gasp in awe.

"I wasn't, too," (L/N)-kun confessed.

Why don't I know why? It always comes to me. Though sometimes I am not enough.

Kageyama needed no one.

Kageyama did not need his superiors' words, he did not need Hinata's comforting words. He did not need the managers', the coach's comfort.

He needed no one. He's always been alone and he's fine alone.

He stopped on his tracks as he sees (L/N) on the doorstep of his classroom. Both of them froze as they are held captive with one another's eyes.

Kageyama frowned, feeling his stomach upset again. The odd feeling climbing its way towards his throat. His lips aggressively shaking as he tried to restrain himself from screaming 'help me' at (L/N)-kun.

He needed no one so why is he desperately seeking for (L/N)-kun's words?

"Kageyama-kun? Are you alright?" His flat voice asked in a tone slightly higher than the usual. Was this his attempt on being empathic? Was he reaching out?

Kageyama gulped everything at once. His eyes fluttering as he nodded curtly, "I am."

Though it felt like it wasn't enough.

I will continue to find love. The meaning of love.

Upset. Kageyama's upset.

A failure. He is a failure. A failure for not being enough. If he were more competent, more skilfull, more talented, he would've won. He would've defeated his former senior's team.

And yet he wasn't and this frustrates him. Days have passed and yet his frustration still lingers inside him, casually clenching his fist and chewing his lips until they turned white and his lips bled. A harsh punishment his judgment has given him-

"Here."

A striking pain touched his forearm. Cold. He trails his eyes towards his arm only to see a cold drink resting on top of it. His eyes followed where the drink came from and it led him to the sight of (L/N)-kun, looking down at him.

He wanted to ask why and what it was for but (L/N)-kun pressed the drink harder onto his skin, urging him to take it in which he did.

(L/N)-kun walked beside him and sat on the cold floor as well. Both of them leaned on the school's walls as the sound of the vending machine vibrated at the side.

Kageyama pierced the straw towards his drink. He takes a sip and is temporarily relieved with the taste of yogurt on his tongue. He glances at (L/N)-kun who only stared at the empty hallway.

"Where's Hinata?" (L/N)-kun asked as your familiar companion is nowhere to be found.

And will be alone forever.

Who is worthy of my love? Who should I set as my priority?

Kageyama tightened his grip on his shoe bag as he strode his way towards the doorway. The halls are empty given that it's already four in the afternoon. The sky painted orange as it is adorned with fleeting birds and gentle clouds.

Kageyama froze as he saw a familiar figure not too far away from him. A little glance and he immediately knew who it was who's shamelessly sitting on the hallway in a very odd position.

"(L/N)-kun," Kageyama muttered as he walked towards him, (L/N)-kun jolting with the mention of his last name. Though this wasn't enough to make him look at his back. Instead, this made him eager to hide his face more, only allowing Kageyama a flash of his shaking back.

"(L/N)-kun, are-"

"Kageyama-kun..." (L/N) looked up, allowing Kageyama a sight of his face which immediately made his color fade away.

"Are you alright?" Kageyama couldn't help but to crouch as he see what seems to be blood dripping from (L/N)'s nose.

(L/N) chuckled, slightly shoving Kageyama's tough arms, "Yes."

"You're off to practice?" He said in a dismissive tone, the back of his palms covering his nose. A futile attempt as Kageyama’s stares are entirely locked at the red liquid now lingering at his upper lip.

“Yes. Are you-”

“You should go now, it’s almost four-thirty,” (L/N)-kun cut him off, a subtle hint that he didn’t want Kageyama to pry. A hint that Kageyama was not able to take.

“But-”

(L/N) looks up. His eyes weaker than they usually appear on Kageyama’s eyes. A ghost of smile on his lips as he shook his head slightly.

“Just go.” (L/N)-kun said softly.

I will continue to find

A ghost of smile lingered on Kageyama’s lips as his ears are drowned by Hinata and some of his seniors’ overflowing joy as they took off from the team’s rented bus, each of them proudly wearing their raven black jacket, a mark that indicates they are a member of the volleyball team.

Flood of praises welcomed Kageyama the moment he stepped in on his classroom. His classmates proud and overjoyed as Kageyama, an official member of the volleyball club, recently won a match against another team, their ticket towards the nationals.

The meaning of love

“Kageyama-kun.”

Kageyama’s eyes wandered at the sea of crowd and it landed to where (L/N)-kun stood. (L/N) once again plastered a melancholic look. His eyes drowsy-looking as a small smile crept onto his lips.

“Your team won, right?” he mumbled as he walked his way towards the crowd, blending with his classmates. If it weren’t for Kageyama’s eyes that were stuck on him, he wouldn’t be able to notice him. But he did.

“Yes,” Kageyama said, eyes strained along with his brows. His lips in a line as he was trying to stop from smirking.

(L/N)-kun nodded, “Congratulations.”

And will be alone forever.

[darkblueboxs]

If you're taking requests, maybe the foxes reacting to soft andreil? I love seeing their relationship through outside perspectives

Sorry for the delay! I ended up with two very different ideas for this and wrote both of them. I’ll be posting the other one in the next week or so! [EDIT: Here it is!]This was great fun to write. Thank you for the request.

In the Eye of the Beholder

Read here or on AO3

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#1 Dan

Dan raps her knuckles against the door to the monster’s flat and waits. Nicky greets her with an impressive mop of bedhair and a baffled expression which smooths over only when Neil darts past, citing brunch with Dan as his excuse for being awake at such a thoroughly reasonable hour on a Sunday morning. He’s in high spirits, from what Dan can tell, rolling on the balls of his feet as they wait for the elevator to arrive. Dan is ready to put it down to excitement over their plans – she has a stack of potential recruits under her arm thicker than Les Misérables for them to discuss, hopefully with a stack of pancakes of equal height on the side. Then she spots the light bruise peeking over the hem of Neil’s collar, and draws a very different conclusion about the source of Neil’s good mood.

She smiles as they step into the elevator, but keeps the observation to herself. While some members of the team love to badger Neil for the slightest insight into his relationship, Dan is willing to push her curiosity aside for the sake of Neil’s privacy. He has plenty other teammates to pester him without her jumping on the bandwagon.

Just before the doors slide shut, an arm bursts through the gap, forcing them open. Andrew is as stoic and terrifying as ever (not that Dan would ever admit it) even while wearing Neil’s foxprint-patterned pyjama bottoms. The quickened rise and fall of his chest is the only hint that he ran to get here.

Neil raises an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of his underdressed partner.

Andrew lobs something at Neil which bounces off his chest and lands on the floor between his feet. Neil stoops to scoop it up, and Dan sees that it’s his wallet.

“Thanks.”

“Idiot,” Andrew huffs. He retracts his arm, and the doors slide shut on the sight of him stalking back to their dorm.

Neil taps the wallet against his hand a couple times before sliding it into the wallet.

“You’re both idiots if you think I’m letting you pay for brunch,” Dan says wryly.

Neil shakes his head. “I said I was going to pick up some stuff at the store afterwards. But thanks. Brunch is on me, though.”

“We’ll see,” Dan says, which means no. “Okay, I’ll admit it. That was sweet of him.”

The corner of Neil’s mouth twitches. “Nah. He’s just making sure I come back with the junk food I promised him.”

“Sure.” And, oh, Dan had been trying to be good, but she really can’t help herself any longer. “So, did you guys mean to give each other matching hickeys, or was that just a fun little accident?”

Neil slaps his hand to his neck and groans.

All in all, it’s a great morning.

 #2 Kevin

Aaron’s trial is coming up. Kevin wouldn’t care (well, he would, but for different reasons) except that it’s making the cousins snippy and fractious. More so than usual. Andrew isn’t sleeping properly, although he would deny that it had any relation to the trial. Unfortunately, his insomnia is contagious, which ends with Neil losing focus at their night practice, having spent the best part of a week running on fumes and gatorade.

Kevin has been patient – patient by his standards, anyway – but the third fumbled catch in a row snaps his temper like brittle bone.

“Get the fuck off my court, Josten.” Kevin says, smacking the base of his racquet against the floor.

“Fuck you,” Neil answers reflexively. He stops to push his lengthening bangs back from his face.

“I’m not joking. You’re in no state to play. Get the fuck out.” Kevin wishes Neil would take it as the blessing it is, a night to re-focus and re-calibrate, but instead he’s glaring Kevin down like he just asked him to eat sewage.

Neil turns away from him to send another ball barrelling towards the goal. It misses by an entire foot.

“Neil,” Kevin says sharply, readying for a fight that neither of them have the energy nor patience for.

Before he can begin, the doors to the court bang open. Andrew stands in the entrance, arms crossed. It’s the expression that ends an argument before it’s had time to start; Kevin knows it far, far too well.

Andrew leads Neil away to the showers while Kevin continues his drills.

When he’s finished washing up, he finds the pair in the team lounge, collapsed on the wider of the couches. Neil is asleep, slumped into Andrew’s side. Andrew looks up as Kevin enters, but he doesn’t move his hand from its resting place in Neil’s hair. Although Neil was the only one of the pair training that night, Andrew’s hair is plastered against his head as though he, too, is fresh out of the shower. Kevin tries not to consider the implications.

They wait in silence for a few minutes, watching as Neil sleeps, properly sleeps, for the first time in far too long. Neither are willing to disturb him, but the night is late and Kevin has a whole host of classes waiting for him in the morning.

“I’ll walk back,” says Kevin. Andrew meets his gaze for a long moment before nodding briefly. The bags under his eyes betray him.

Kevin darts back into the lockers to pick up Neil’s abandoned kit bag. When he passes them again, Andrew has slouched onto his side, having manoeuvred Neil in front of him so they can both lie comfortably. His arm is slung protectively around Neil’s waist like Andrew is prepared to beat off the world to keep him there.

Kevin knows they spend more nights in each other’s bunks than out of them in the dorm, but somehow they’re always up and away before anyone else is awake enough to give them any hassle over it. Kevin doesn’t care, but Nicky can be overbearing at the best of times, and Aaron is… well, Aaron. But here, in the privacy of an empty stadium, it looks like Neil has finally found enough security to drop off at last, and Andrew looks ready to follow. Kevin shuts the door behind him, not quite smiling, but close. It was strange to some, the idea of Neil and Andrew, but anyone who saw them curled up together would see it plain as day. They just fitted.

The next day, Neil is closer to being himself again, and no more is said on the matter.

 #4 Matt

Matt has to admit that press duty with Neil is never boring. The interviewers seem to share his opinion, visibly perking up when Neil follows Matt into the room. They lost to the Bearcats, but it was close enough that Matt doesn’t have to lie when he says that he’s proud of the team’s performance today.

“Some are saying that the failure of the defence line in later stages was due to Minyard’s performance in goal in the second half. How would you respond to that?

Matt doesn’t know why he bothers opening his mouth; the question may be directed to him, but he knows damn well that a boulder in the shape of Neil’s fury is already barrelling in this hapless reporter’s direction. “Well-”

“Last time I checked, this was a team sport,” Neil says loudly. “Was I hallucinating that, or has there been a few rule changes since yesterday?”

Matt isn’t sure whether to laugh or groan. Coach had told Matt to keep an eye on their resident fire-starter as though anyone was at all capable of controlling Neil when there was a mic in front of him. Matt feels sorry for the poor sucker that will one day be assigned to the role of Neil’s publicist, because he’s sure that Neil will drive them into an early grave alongside Matt’s.

“You have to admit that the number of goals that he let in-”

“I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that his entire defence line had already played two full quarters before he even stepped foot on court. People get tired the longer a game goes on, of course defence is going to suffer in the second half. But sure, keep pinning it on the goalie you clearly have it in for.”

Matt claps a hand on Neil’s back. “What he said,” he agrees, staring down the reporter.

They take no further questions.

Matt doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when he leaves the showers to see Andrew and Neil alone in the locker room he ducks back out of sight. He walks into at least one dramatic confrontation amongst his teammates per week, and sometimes the best way to deal with the daily bouts of fox drama is to hide and wait for the storm to pass.

“Point me to where I asked you to lead my own personal crusade.” Andrew’s flat tones echo off the tiled floor. Matt regrets leaving his Ipod in his bag. The conversation doesn’t seem too personal to overhear, but Andrew and Neil have never been the easiest reads.

“I’m tired of them talking shit about you just because they have a vendetta against anyone with your…” Neil trails off. Matt imagines him to be making several expressive hand gestures; it’s hard to condense all of Andrew’s history and circumstances into one word. “…everything,” Neil settles on.

“Your principles should not intersect with my business.”

“Even if it could affect your future career?” Neil’s words are met, unsurprisingly, with silence. “Besides, yours do.”

“Explain.”

“When I first came here, you told Nicky to back off. Not out of concern for me. Because of your principles.”

This time, the silence stretches so long that Matt doesn’t think Andrew is going to answer.

“Point,” Andrew concedes.

“Besides, is it so bad that I’m standing up for you?”

“Only when it’s making new enemies for you. How many does one man need?”

“I’ve got room for a few more,” Neil says. There’s a rustle of movement, and, oh, are they kissing? Matt strongly suspects that they are kissing. It’s more than his life is worth to look. He takes a few steps back, rattles his kit loudly and makes as much noise as possible before entering the locker room. The pair are a safe distance apart by the time he enters, and Matt gives them a probably-not-convincingly-casual nod before busying himself with his change of clothes.

The pair spend the journey home holed up together at the back of the bus, and if he suspects that they’re doing a little more than talking, Matt keeps it to himself.

They’ve earned a little privacy, after all.

 #5 Aaron

“Well, maybe if you stopped and took the time to, I don’t know, explain literally anything that you do, we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.”

“Aaron,” says Bee, a gentle reprimand. He isn’t in the mood to hear it. His attention remains on his brother, who’s features remain the same stony, impassive blank that they have in almost every joint session to date. It’s an expression that makes Aaron want to tear his hair out, or kick his brother’s face in, or both.

“What would you like me to explain?” says Andrew, more of a challenge than an offer. Aaron snorts, because, where to fucking begin?

“How about we start with your little fuck-buddy, seeing as you’re so keen to start on mine.” Earlier that week, Andrew had returned early from a class to find Aaron and Katelyn together in their dorm room. The result, while not outright violent, had been deeply unpleasant for all involved. And of course, Andrew was being an ass about it.

“Aaron. We’ve talked about this. How can you expect Andrew to talk about Katelyn respectfully if you won’t offer the same respect to his own partner?”

Aaron scoffs. “It’s not the same.”

Andrew’s eyebrow… it doesn’t quirk, but it twitches. “Oh?”

Aaron gestures vaguely. “You know what I mean.”

“I can assure you that I don’t.”

“Me and Katelyn. You and Neil. It isn’t the same.”

“How so?” Andrew’s tone isn’t in the danger zone yet, but it’s edging towards it.

“I’m not talking about the gay thing. I’m talking about…” The hand Aaron was waving clenches into a fist as he drops it into his lap. “Don’t make me say it.”

Andrew and Bee share a look over his head.

“Aaron,” says Bee.

“I just, fucking…” Aaron grapples with words, struggling to find a combination that won’t rip them apart any worse than they already have been. “How the fuck can you expect me to believe that you and him… that you’re real. That you’re normal, that you’re like us, after everything those fuckers did to you. What makes him so different?”

Andrew watches him. Just when Aaron resigns himself to the fact that no answer is coming, Andrew speaks. “If I ask him to stop, he stops.”

Aaron bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he thinks he might have drawn blood. “It can’t be that simple.”

Andrew shrugs.

“How?”

Andrew’s eyes flicker upwards, like he would rather be anywhere else, having any other conversation in the world than this one. “We have a system. We don’t touch each other without asking first. We listen to each other. We talk. What more do you need me to say?”

Aaron falls silent. He doesn’t know what he needs from his brother, still, but it’s something.

“I have a question in return,” Andrew’s eyes flick to Bee. He isn’t looking for permission, but she nods in encouragement nonetheless. “Katelyn. What makes her so different?” Andrew meets his gaze dead-on as he turns Aaron’s own words back on him. “How can you trust her, after everything that bitch Tilda did to you?”

And finally, it all clicks into place.

Aaron forces himself to look his brother in the eyes. So much like his, yet at the same time so different. “Okay,” he concedes at last. “I see.”

Because, at last, he does.

 #7 Allison

Neil appears at Allison’s door with a black eye, a bust lip, and the words “don’t freak out,” spilling from his mouth before she can get so much as a word in.

“Great start,” she says, pulling him in. “Who do I need to kill?”

“My shoelace came undone and I ate shit while I was on my run. I just need enough makeup that I can get through class without looking like I’ve been in a fight again. Do you know how many of my lecturers have taken me aside to give me the domestic abuse hotline?”

“You should know how to do this yourself by now.” Allison rolls her eyes as she leads Neil through to the table.

“You’re better at it,” he admits grudgingly, and oh, doesn’t that just warm her heart to hear.

“Nice try. You’re still taking me out for coffee after this.”

Neil pulls a face, and Allison laughs. It doesn’t take long – Allison has treated him in far, far worse shape, as much as she’d rather not think about it – and soon there’s only the faintest smudge around Neil’s eye.

“Can I tempt you to some mascara? Glitter?” Allison asks, waggling her eyebrows as she spreads the contents of her makeup bag out for his inspection.

“Maybe next time,” says Neil, “When I’m not going to a calculus lecture.”

“But that’s the best place for it.” Allison dabs the tip of his nose with her brush, and Neil’s face scrunches up as he tries to hold back a sneeze. His hair flops back down over his forehead as he moves, falling into his eyes.

“Don’t move just yet,” Allison says, yanking a drawer open and fumbling for the kitchen scissors. “I’ve been meaning to deal with that mop for weeks, and right now I have you trapped.”

“Oh, no,” Neil says flatly, but still he surrenders herself to her demands. Wise move.

“Perfect,” says Allison a few minutes later, ruffling Neil’s hair to shake away the last loose strands. “Ready for the red carpet now. I hope there aren’t any cute guys in your maths class, or Andrew is going to go mad with jealousy.”

Neil snorts. “He’s not really the type.”

“Mhmm,” says Allison, because in her experience, everyone is the type.

Speaking of the psychotic little devil himself, Andrew bursts through the door just as Allison is brushing up the last of the trimmings.

“Hey,” Neil says, apparently impervious to Andrew’s thunderous entrance. Andrew ignores the greeting, taking hold of Neil’s chin to turn his face from side to side.

“Kevin said you fell,” he says, relinquishing the grip. Allison half-turns away, pretending to busy herself tidying but really listening, because the monster’s overbearing-boyfriend performances are rarely seen in public yet endlessly entertaining.

“Shoelaces. Who could have seen it coming?”

“I did. And warned you. Twice.”

Neil winces. “My bad.”

Andrew mutters something under his breath that seems to involve the words kill you. The day Allison understands their relationship is the day that she gives up on any and all gossip for the rest of her life.

Then, Andrew pauses, distracted. “Did you trip and fall onto a pair of sheers?”

“Allison gave me a haircut. How does it look?”

Andrew holds his hand in front of Neil’s face. When Neil nods, Andrew runs it quickly through his hair, gently tugging at the roots as he goes. “Awful.”

“Hey,” Allison interrupts, outraged. They both start, and Andrew’s hand drops away, like they had forgotten she was there. Which was the point, really. She holds the scissors in Andrew’s direction. “You’re next, scraggy.”

“When I’m dead,” Andrew replies flatly. It’s clear he isn’t joking. Neil shakes his head at them both.

“Come on, then,” Allison says. “Neil’s taking me for coffee. Give us a ride and I’ll buy you the sugariest, most expensive drink on the menu. I’m hoping the diabetes will finish you off if lung cancer falls through.”

Andrew glances between them. “Fine.”

Sugar and Neil; the keys to Andrew’s stony little heart.

 #8 Nicky

Nicky is fully capable of responding to his cousin’s newfound domestic happiness with maturity and decorum.

He just chooses not to.

This has nearly ended in violence no less than eight times. But really, how can he be expected to let it lie when his cousin, who came to him an unruly, violent teen to whom any conversation was like pulling teeth with plastic tweezers, is, for the first time, experiencing the gay teen college romance Nicky could only have dreamed of?

With his fiancée a million miles away, Nicky has to live vicariously when it comes to matters of the heart. There is no better subject for this than his violent baby cousin, who, it seems, isn’t such a baby anymore.

Nicky is beyond late for his class already when he realises that his laptop is dead. He had been skyping with Eric until ass-o-clock in the morning, forgot to plug it in before passing out in his bunk and is paying for it three-fold. He has two options; pencil and paper (what is he, a toddler?) or steal someone’s laptop. The answer is both clear and obvious.

Andrew’s is the first to hand. He most likely won’t surface until noon, by which time Nicky will have returned from class, leaving him none the wiser. The perfect crime.

Or it is the perfect crime until Nicky opens the laptop in the middle of his seminar to a webpage that is filled with very, very unsafe-for-classroom content.

Nicky slams the laptop shut. It wasn’t a video, none of the sites Nicky knew from his own fits of late-night loneliness. Large blocks of text, diagrams that were more analytical than downright pornographic. Nicky slides the laptop open again, just enough for the screen to light up once more, and tabs up. No, not porn. Informative. Educational.

The girl beside him, although unable to see his screen, is giving Nicky some very strange looks. Nicky glances back to the laptop before sliding it shut once more. Pencil and paper will have to do.

The class is drier than dirt, leaving Nicky’s mind with far too much space to think. A dangerous pastime in Nicky’s case, Eric would say teasingly. Nicky had assumed – well, not that he had thought about it, much, but Andrew always seemed so set and sure of himself that it was hard to imagine him googling how-to guides like an acne-riddled teen the night before prom. His apparent innocence is weirdly adorable. Not a word Nicky uses out-loud in his cousin’s presence, but true all the same.

Nicky remembers his first time. Awkward, uncomfortable, and involving entirely the wrong set of genitals. He can only hope Andrew and Neil’s is better.

He shouldn’t get involved. He really, really, shouldn’t.

Nicky slips the laptop back into place mere moments before Andrew slouches into the living space. Nicky watches him as the coffee-maker gurgles away, thinking.

“Andrew.”

Andrew glances up. Nicky isn’t sure what he reads in his face, but it must be setting off alarm bells, because his hands move almost unconsciously to his sleeves. Nicky holds his hands up.

“Hey!”

“What?”

“I just…” Oh, this is a lot more awkward than Nicky anticipated. “You know, I’m always here for you. If there’s anything you want to talk about.” He clears his throat. “If you have any questions…”

Andrew’s eyes narrow. They flick in the direction of his desk. Nicky remembers, far too late, Andrew’s impossibly perfect memory. He would remember the exact position he left his laptop in. Nicky is busted.

“Don’t borrow my laptop,” Andrew snarls. The coffee brewer clicks, and it may be the only thing that saves Nicky’s life.

“I’m sorry! I was in a rush!” Nicky says weekly. “If it’s any consolation, the guy who sits behind me now thinks I’m a grade-A pervert.”

Andrew slams a mug down on the counter so hard he almost cracks it. “One more word. One more.”

“I won’t. I won’t, I promise, I’ve been there, okay?”

Andrew takes his coffee and his laptop and leaves without another word. Nicky counts it as a blessing.

The next day, he’s working his way through the mother of all essays when Andrew enters the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Nicky keeps working until Andrew pulls a chair over to Nicky’s desk and sits in it. He stops typing mid-sentence, fingers hovering over the keys.

“Everything okay, Andrew?”

“I want you to take a moment and remember how many knives I have on me right now.”

“A lot, I assume.”

“A lot,” Andrew confirms. “If I had any other choice in the world, I would take it. But I have you. So, I’m going to ask you something, and you are going to be calm and level and mature and everything that you usually are not when you answer.”

“Of course,” Nicky says in a heartbeat. He can’t think of a single time Andrew has ever come to him for help, not even when he was wrapped up in bed and coughing his lungs out the day before his AP Calc exam. Nicky has never been more determined to get something right in his life.

“How,” Andrew says, stops, starts again. Today is full of firsts; Andrew is usually so careful and measured with his words. “How do I do it without hurting him?”

Nicky’s heart is ready to melt or break or explode, maybe all at once. “Oh, Andrew.”

“The knives, Nicky. Remember the knives.”

“Okay,” says Nicky, and he tells Andrew everything he can. He wants, more than anything, for Andrew to be safe and happy, and if it involves going into details that even Nicky is squeamish about discussing with family, then that’s what he’ll do.

He offers to write out a list of reliable books and websites for Andrew to check out, ones he used himself and others Eric recommended to him. Andrew shakes his head.

“Just tell me. I’ll remember them.”

When they’re done, Nicky almost claps Andrew on the shoulder. He thinks better of it, hand hovering mid-air before he withdraws it. “Andrew.”

Andrew is half-way out the door, but he stops, which is more than Nicky expected.

“You’ll be fine.”

Andrew huffs, and abruptly disappears. Nicky smiles to himself as he turns back to his essay.

It took him a long time to piece it all together, but the truth is that Andrew really can be quite sweet, in his own terrifying way.

Nicky wonders how long it will be before he has to give Neil the sex talk too. Maybe he should offer.

Best not to; he has some self-preservation instincts, after all.

 #9 Renee

Renne likes to think that she has improved at reading Andrew over the years. Some of his quirks are more obvious than others, however; it doesn’t take a student of human character to notice that when Andrew wants to spar, it’s usually because he has something on his mind.

Renee is hardly in a position to judge, not when she finds the cut and blow of a vicious fistfight as cathartic as he does. There’s still a piece of Natalie Shields underneath all of Renee’s growth like the pit at the heart of a peach. Sometimes the best way of holding her down is by letting her out in controlled increments. Give her the inch so she won’t take the mile.

As usual, it is only when they have beaten each other to exhaustion and back that Andrew is ready to talk. They sit cross-legged in the centre of the room, slurping down apple-juice cartons like kids in the playground, and finally, Andrew speaks.

“I want you to train Neil.”

Renee sets her carton down. “I thought Matt was teaching him to box.”

“He’s a shit boxer.”

“Neil or Matt?”

“Both.”

Renee shakes her head. She reaches back to pull out her hair tie, letting her bangs tumble back into their usual place. “Is there a reason Neil hasn’t asked me himself?”

Andrew is silent. There it is; the heart of the matter.

Renee sighs. “I’m not going to force Neil to train with me if he doesn’t want to.”

“I don’t force Neil to do anything,” Andrew says sharply. Renee winces; it was a poor choice of words on her part.

“Why do you think he needs it?”

“Matt is teaching him how to box. It’s not the same as real fighting.”

Renee hums. “Can’t he do something for fun?”

“That’s not the point. Besides,” Andrew pauses. “Matt only knows how to fight like the fuck-off giant that he is.”

Renee can’t argue with that; Matt never had to learn the same style of combat that she and Andrew did. He may teach Neil how to throw a good punch, but there’s a big difference in stance and strategy when your opponent is a foot taller than you. Renee and Andrew learned that the hard way.

“And who is it that you think Neil is going to be fighting?”

Andrew waves one arm in an all-encompassing gesture. “Have you met him?”

“Andrew.”

“Renee,” he shoots back, imitating her tone and inflection.

“What did he say when you suggested that I teach him?”

Andrew scrunches up his features in an imitation of Neil’s ugh face. “He said that he gets enough bruises as it is.”

“He’s not wrong.”

Andrew doesn’t roll his eyes, but his eyebrows twitch as though he’s considering it. “He also said he doesn’t need to get any better. Because he…” Andrew grimaces. Sharing is still tough for him, even after years of therapy and trust. “He has me to protect him.”

“As I said,” Renee says, smiling. “He’s not wrong.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“He has his moments.”

They finish their juice boxes in silence.

“Well,” says Renee, getting back to her feet. Her legs may be going stiff, but there’s still some fight left in her. There always is. “I may not be able to train Neil, but at least I can train his bodyguard to the best of my ability.” She holds her hand out to Andrew. After a moment of careful consideration, he takes it, using the pull to swing himself to his feet. “One more round?”

Andrew nods, determination setting in his eyes like concrete. “One more round.”

Renee likes to think that she has improved at reading Andrew over the years. This time, as they trade hits and kicks, it isn’t anger or frustration powering Andrew’s movements; it’s something far more powerful.

She thinks – hopes – prays – that the worst of Neil’s fights are behind them. All the same, she sleeps a little easier knowing that, should the day come, Andrew will be at his back with a knife in each hand.

That’s love, after all.

.

Thank you for reading - please let me know what you thought

Still open to requests!