#he messaged me bc he wants to meet and apologize and he misses me

[nectarinebat]

..........I unblocked him

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Omg I just read the hc about arguments with Tan and now I DESPERATELY want something angsty about how he’d be if he accidentally really hurt our feelings during an argument and we walk out 😭 that’s so angsty and he’d be such a mess and I just fucking love it (same with silent treatment tbh, like kinda a lengthy one where he thinks we’d talk to him the day after, but NOPE bc we’re HURT omg)

I LOVE LOVE LURVEE ANGST!!!! especially with tan🤭 here are my thoughts babe

AN ARGUMENT WITH TANGERINE.

I think he can sometimes go a little low in an argument, and he gets so angry (he's got a temper) that he doesn't even really know what he's saying. most of the time he doesn't mean what he says, but you know, once you say it, you can't un-say it. and then once he realises what he's said, it's too late

maybe you're a little non-confrontational or you've just had enough and don't want to be shouted at. so when he says something a little spiteful and hurtful, you shut yourself off and walk away. maybe when you walk off, he's following behind trying to make amends like "didn't mean that" "wait a minute" "one second, let's talk about it"

but you don't wanna hear it, so you get your shoes and bag and phone and things you'll need for a few hours. you ignore him and then walk out the door (you'll be back later, you just need space etcetc)

he'd be calling you nonstop, texting you trying to find out where you are. maybe asking your friends and family if they've spoken to you (drama queen) maybe to make it EXTRA angsty, you text tan back with "stop bothering my friends" and he texts back INSTANTLY like "can we talk? I'll come meet you. im so sorry. tell me where you are and we sort everything out" but it's not one message, he's sending each line individually (he quadruple texted. embarrassing for him)

and then you come back hours later, and he's sitting on the steps by the front door waiting for you or on the sofa facing the door. and he has a gift for you to aid his apology. and he's rambling 'sorry's' trying to get your attention. but you ignore them and he's clutching at straws like "can we just talk? I miss you" and you turn around and say "no, you spoke to me like shit. I don't want to hear what you have to say"

and then go to bed and things are prickly with you over the next few days

[kimakento]

&team when you leave home after an argument

pairing:(s) ot9 x fem!reader ⌙ 1.0k

genre(s): fluff + very minuscule angst(?)

warning(s): none?

author’s note: i’m so proud of myself bc i wrote this all today 🤭 this was a request and again, i’m so sorry for taking so long to write this but i really hope you enjoy this !! tysm for those who read this :D

euijoo —

ej would definitely literally run out after you, apologising profusely. he’d cling to your arm and ask for a second chance, saying that the argument was his fault.

you couldn’t bare being away from him and eventually gave in. he’d make it up to you by taking you out and peppering your face with little kisses.

euijoo tries to make you laugh with jokes and embraces you constantly until that smile he loves to see on your face shows up.

harua —

harua would feel it’s his fault and he’d torture himself by filling his mind with the sight of tears streaming down your face just before you left. a sense of remorse would continue to haunt him.

but tell me he wouldn’t continue to spam your messages, with a bunch of apologies and asking you to come back. midnight voicemails are a definite, he explains his side to the argument and express that he misses you.

harua would appear the next day, with flowers in hand, asking for forgiveness. he’d admit that you were the only one for him and the argument you had was nothing to him if it meant being away from you.

maki —

very like harua to be honest, he would be so persistent. it depends on the nature of the argument but he swallows his pride and admits fault. although he’s quite a hot-headed person, he still felt as if he should try to get you back.

you also come to the realisation that you miss him more than ever. he’d send you little gifts with notes saying things like ‘come back to me.’

he adorns that same puppy-like frown every passing day. that moment when you return is his happiest, maki couldn’t bare one single day of not waking up without you beside him. the promise of never doing it again lingers fulfilled as the chemistry between you grew even stronger.

nicholas —

nicho is a very clingy guy, when he feels how his bed feels so empty without you, regret would consume him. you on the other-hand, missed warmth that his presence provided.

the warmth that made you feel so safe. he acts so tough, but is literally so weak for you. he’d show up at your door the next day, asking so sweetly for a second chance. nicholas would start beaming when you told him that you missed him as well and apologised too.

taking your hand and kissing your knuckles is his favourite form of affection. also, you remind him that you forgive him and that the argument was only something small and meaningless.

k —

k would give you space, understanding that sometimes we all need a little break. he’ll let it rest for a few days, but also checking in on you consistently. but you being stubborn, left him on read which made him even more worried.

his name stands for king of apologising and making up for stuff with big gestures. “i’m so sorry, i understand it was my fault.”

his guilt would definitely eat him up from the inside and he’d insist on taking you. that’s when he realises that you’re the person who he cares most about.

knowing him so well, you can tell that it affected him as much as it did you, so you try to make it up to him and reassure him every chance you find.

yuma —

he always has a smile on his face, but when you go it also suddenly disappears. the similarity between you both is your stubbornness, neither of you wanted to apologise. but in the end, you ended up asking to meet up.

at the sight of you, yuma would start grinning and open his arms for you. no words would have to be exchanged. you both knew what the other was feeling without even having to say anything.

the fact that he’s with you is enough to make you happy and give you an extra bounce in your step. he was your calm that grounded you during the storm and you loved him for that.

fuma —

mentally scolds himself for ever taking a petty argument that for that you leave. spends the whole time thinking about how to get you to return back to him; he even starts asking his own members.

while you’re gone, he feels like he can’t genuinely enjoy anything. fuma calls you nonstop until you pick up and cry on the phone to him.

he’ll ask you to come back and when you do he’d hold you in his arms all night, tending to your every need, even when you say you’re fine he insists on doting on you like you’re his princess. (he calls you that daily)

jo —

i can’t imagine a scenario where he’d let you leave. jo would resolve the situation then and there, choosing to pull you into his lap and wrap his arm around your waist.

all while whispering how much he adores you and how sorry he is. even when you cry, he’d probably kiss them away. you’d turn around to him and peck his nose and pinch his cheeks.

his half-stifled sniffles don’t go unnoticed by you and at that both of you chuckle, even wondering why the argument was even that important.

“i love you, yeah?” | “i love you too, jo.”

taki

leaves you alone for a while and reflects on the whole situation.

instead, you turn up again the next day, apologising for being so stubborn. you see his weary, tired eyes and bad posture. but when he sees you, his smile is groggy and you jump into his open arms.

he opens up about his inner turmoil and also says sorry. you join beside him in his bed, stroking his soft hair.

while his eyelids flutter from the overwhelming fatigue, he repeats how much he loves you and promises not to let you leave ever again. he pecks the side of your mouth and falls asleep.

they’re all so cute !!

[kingdumkum]

WHERE THE RIVER MEETS THE SEA

this has been a long, long time coming. hopefully it’ll live up to the obscenely high expectations i’ve set. agree or disagree, please reblog/comment/send an anon with your thoughts--but make sure you read the RULES of interaction first.

summary: your date stood you up… again. Don’t worry, though, Baji will be there to pick up the pieces, like he always is. The only question… what will you do when you find out his secret? wc: 15k (we don't talk about it)

cw: virgin fem afab!reader x virgin!Baji, a lil itty bitty baby bit of blood, somewhat public (initially), bc why not, marking, creampie, Confessions galore, somewhat gendered pet names (princess, babe, sweetheart), actually gendered pet names (one handful of "good girl," "pretty girl," and "my girl"), subtle yandere themes but not to the extent a DC label is needed—correct me if I’m wrong though—be nice if I missed something, this is my first time :) way too many words but c’est la vie such is the way.

dedication: Storm, my friend, your support and advice has made me a better writer. Without you, this would probably still be sitting in my drafts, collecting dust and every hateful thought I’ve ever had about my writing. Thank you for being you and all of your aid in getting this to where it is. 💛

Your coffee’s cold when you give up. Well—second coffee, to be precise; the first you’d ordered after Tadashi said he was a few minutes away. That one had grown cold too, but the barista, taking pity, had given you a piping hot refill—for free.

It feels like an insult when she offers you a third.

An hour and a half has passed since Tadashi said he’d be there, and… well, you were still kinda hoping he might show up. But when the manager approaches with a tight-lipped smile, not-so-kindly pointing at their hours plastered ever so neatly on the glass door and indicating they’re just a few minutes to closing, your hope ebbs entirely.

The heat in your cheeks could’ve rewarmed your cup—but not one to cause a scene, you offer a tight-lip smile of your own and apologize. You don’t explain that you were waiting for someone; the pitying look in the barista’s eye as she mouths sorry and slides the unwanted third cup your way says they know.

You slip into the bathroom, wondering how in the world you could be so stupid— again. This was your third first date in three months… and the third time in three months that you’ve been stood up. 

It hurts more when you check your phone. Two new messages from Emma, asking how it’s going and if you want to grab dinner to dish; one from Draken, asking if you can bring back a vanilla frappe and a triple dark roast espresso with two pumps of caramel; one from Baji, saying he might be late to pick you up, but he’d be there, and could you get him an order of whatever you’re having?

Nothing from Tadashi.

You don’t respond, instead letting your phone rest against the mirror while you stare at your reflection and try, desperately, to convince yourself it isn’t your fault.

Everything had been going great—you thought. You thought he really liked you, that he was excited to get to know you, and that this one, this one for sure would show up. You made jokes that he found funny, you were just the right amount of flirty, and you knew—thought—hoped—the picture you’d sent of your outfit (a simple sundress that accentuated your best features and wedges that made your legs seem endless) was enticing enough that he’d want to see it in person.

But here you are. Crying in the bathroom of a cafe you’ll never be able to return to, wondering how you’re going to explain to your friends that you got stood up.

Again.

Your phone starts to buzz. With a deep breath, you wipe off your dripping mascara. You force yourself to smile at the hollow reflection staring back at you, then answer with an overly-cheerful, “what’s up?”

“Kenny’s worried.” Baji’s familiar drawl echos, making the space seem even smaller. “I said he was being too overprotective, but—well, you know how he is. Said it’s his duty or some shit to make sure you’re okay. He tried to come down here himself, wanted to meet the guy trying to woo you—can you believe that? He actually said woo—“

“What do you want?” you interrupt. Too harsh, you realize when Baji doesn’t answer. “It’s just—I’m kinda in the middle of something, you know?” 

Baji takes a moment, then forces a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, the little princess’s got a date, we know. God, they wouldn’t let it go. You should be thanking me, ya know, I’m the only reason they’re not all crashing—”

“Baji.”

The line falls quiet. Then, softly, “where are you, y/n?”

You frown and start searching for your mascara. “At the coffee shop. Why, where are you?”

Another pause. This one heavier. With the phone tucked to one ear, you slowly swipe the wand over your lashes. It’s clumpier than you usually like, but it’s better than nothing—

“I’m outside.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoes. You mouth another fuck, heart plummeting, then start reapplying your mascara. More carefully, now that you’re out of time. “I, uh—I’ve been here. A while.”

“Oh… yeah?” you question, teeth starting to grind. “How long’s a while?”

Baji clears his throat. “Long enough. You gonna come out, or are ya gonna make me come in?”

Mascara gets tossed in your purse, gloss comes out. “You’re not exactly welcome in the ladies room, Baji.”

You can picture the dangerous curl in his smile when he replies, “not without an invitation, babe—why, you asking?”

Your laugh isn’t completely real, but not unnatural, either. You hover the gloss over your lips, and for a moment, you imagine what it’d be like. To sneak someone into the bathroom, kissing until your lips start to bruise, his hands playing with the hem of your dress, his lips marking your skin, his voice whispering your name…

You shake the thought away. There’s no point in getting your heart broken twice in one day.

“Three’s a bit of a crowd for a single stall,” you deflect. “Be out in a minute.”

Baji hums. Your gloss feels too thick, but you don’t take it off. You fluff your hair again, placing it the way you like, turning your necklace so the clasp faces the right way, lips smacking together once, twice, three times—

By the time you run out of things to do, you think you’re ready. You pick up your purse and give yourself a final once-over. Pretty, you think. Doesn’t look like you spent the last seven minutes sobbing in a public restroom.

When you exit, Baji’s still on the line, but he doesn’t hang up. You know, because the teasing, “well shit, babe, if I had known you’d worn that, I would’ve come two hours ago,” echoes; once from your phone, and the other from the man himself, standing right in front of you.

You laugh, and this one isn’t forced at all.

Baji’s smile gleams in the evening sun. A low wolf-whistle causes your face to warm pleasantly—the way it should have, when you met Tadashi. You take Baji’s extended hand, not flinching when his callouses rub against your soft palms. 

You’re used to their roughness. Much like the others, Baji’s always been a hands-on friend (and fighter), so over the years, you’ve gotten used to the various bumps, cuts, and jagged edges, to the extent that the only hands that’ve ever felt comfortable have been those rough ones, soft only for you. 

Baji spins you, over-exaggerating the way he checks you out. “Sweetheart, you’re going to stop traffic looking like that.”

“Oh, please,” you deny, but your smile hasn’t been this genuine all day. “Laying it on a little thick, Baj.”

“Only the realest truth for the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” is his sly reply, accompanied by a slyer wink. It’s his usual charm, but you’re oblivious to his sincerity, the way you always are. Baji pulls you into a tight hug and closes his eyes, and for a moment, he allows himself to pretend this was your intention all along; to wind up in his arms, with his compliments, by his side—the way it always seems to go after every failed date.

But you never say as much, and you always seem so genuinely excited for the next one that he’s never going to ask. Instead, he’ll take these moments. The ones where you turn to him for comfort, where he gets to hold you, your knight-in-shining-armor, and do all that he can to make everything better.

He’s so close that you almost miss his muffled whisper of, “fucking—stupid bastard. Doesn’t know what he’s missed.”

Your smile slips. Your thumb rubs against the back of his knuckles, familiarly cracked with scabs that never seem to heal. These are fresh, though; you can tell by how his hand darts to the back of his neck, preventing you from looking too closely. 

“Been up to no good?” you question with a raised brow.

“‘Course I have,” he responds easily, “you’ve been busy.”

Baji won’t meet your gaze. ‘If only you knew,’ he thinks—but he’ll never say it. Not that. Not to you. He shrugs off his black leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, fingertips lingering as he straightens the collar. His dark eyes flick to yours, a coy smirk almost hiding his guilt as he hopes beyond all hope you don’t see through him.

You almost do.

Not enough to call him out on it, though, so instead, you roll your eyes—but you can’t deny how this—him—is making everything better. He picks up the helmet he only brings when he’s driving you and puts it on for you, visor up so he can brush the hair out of your eyes. Baji offers a comforting smile, then juts his chin to his bike. “Wanna ride?”

The answer, of course, is yes; for him, it will always be yes.

Silently, you climb on and wrap your hands around him, chin tucking into his shoulder as if you were made to be there. He revs and pulls off, seamlessly weaving in and out of traffic. Your eyes close. The wind whips in your hair, and the familiar scent of nicotine, mint, and Baji’s crisp aftershave envelopes you. For a moment, you feel like everything’ll be okay. Your heart might hurt now, but after an evening with him, it’ll all be okay.

That’s the power of Keisuke Baji, though; the sense of embarking on your greatest adventure but feeling like being home, all at once.

It’s nearly sunset when he stops. Pulls up to the river, kicks the bike stand, then grabs your waist to lift you off the seat.

“I can do that,” you say, even as you let him lift you.

“More fun when I do,” he replies with an easy grin. Your feet hit the ground, but Baji keeps one hand around your waist. He takes off the helmet with the other and laughs when your hair flops out. Hurriedly you go to smooth it, but Baji catches your wrist after setting the helmet down. “You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

He cages you between the bike and his hips with just a few inches of space—and suddenly, your heart starts to race. When did he get this close? How hadn’t you noticed the way his leg slid between yours? Why isn’t he taking his hand away? Why can’t you breathe?

Baji’s dark eyes dart between yours, then down to your lips, and for a second, for a split second, you think he’s about to kiss you—

“Not like anything can make it better now,” he smirks, and if it weren’t for how his fingers were locked in yours, you would’ve slapped him.

“Asshole.” 

Baji laughs, and you swear the moon shines a little brighter. You’re grateful that he turns to check out the area before he can see just how much of an impact his laugh has on you—though you don’t doubt that he knows. He’s Baji, after all, and you’re not blind (or deaf). He’s handsome, witty, flirty with anything that moves—and that laugh of his could bring even the tides to a standstill.

“Coast’s clear,” he says, looking back at you, a lazy smirk curling his features. It shouldn’t be a surprise, hardly any ever comes this far south of the city—but a few weeks ago, you’d accidentally stumbled upon a couple who were… not expecting company, to put it delicately, and ever since, Baji had been extra cautious to make sure it was just the two of you before getting settled.

He takes a few steps backwards, leading you to your spot; a grassy knoll that overlooks the river as it feeds into the darkened sea. The moon slowly rises over rolling waves while the sun, more a memory, sets over the river’s bend. It’s a secret, sacred place for the two of you, where heartache and daydreams don’t exist; only the moon, the tides, and each other.

Your stomach flips but you can’t tell why; this is exactly what happens every time you come here, from the way he helps you off the bike to how he stops you from picking at your appearance. The only difference is the way his hand is still wrapped in yours. 

You wonder if Tadashi’s would have been this warm. 

But Tadashi isn’t here—Baji is, and it’s Baji’s warm hands that always make things better. So you let him keep his hand in yours, even though you’re not sure you should, and you let him gently tug you along when you don’t move fast enough. Let him take his time in taking his jacket back, in spreading it on the grass before waiting for you to sit. You even let him settle next to you, instinctively leaning into the familiar comfort of his body and for a minute, you wonder how you ever could’ve wanted your day to end different.

Then Baji meets your gaze, smiles that sweet, genuinely kind half smile that he only shares with you, and you remember: Baji is your friend—and no matter how many heartaches he heals, that’s all he’ll ever be.

You can’t remember when things got so complicated.

When it was just you and Kenny, you’d sneak up to the roof of the brothel and watch the sun dip behind the buildings and talk about how one day, you’d get a house that was that color pink, and it’d be on the far side of Japan where you could watch the sunset from your porch and life would be good. The sunset was the only dream you’d ever need, and it would be good.

Then Mikey started coming. More often than not he’d fall asleep before the sun did, and on the days he didn’t—the roof felt too… small. The dreams, too… little. They evolved, from a porch where you could watch the sunset to a skyline that never sleeps.

Dreams change, and that’s okay… but a part of you aches for the time when the sunset felt like enough—when the family you had, the brothers you’d found and the friends you’d made—was enough. You still had the sunset, but rarely. More often than not, you were by yourself up there, or stuck to Kenny’s side somewhere out there, or brushing against Baji’s shoulder down here.

So these days, you prefer to watch the moon rise. There’s more comfort in a light to guide you through the night, rather than watching your dreams disappear with the day.

And you do, the way you do every time you’re stood up or don’t feel—enough. You sit beside Baji with the full moon crawling towards you, staring at the conjunction of the river and the sea, and focus on how you’re going to get through this.

Baji cut his hair since the last date—the last time you’d been stood up, you correct. Still long, but now only to the edge of his jaw, not mid-back like you were used to. The light is bright behind him, bringing out the warm undertones in his onyx hair. You can make out the scab on his cheek from a bar fight a few weeks ago; the scar on his nose from when Mikey split it the first time they fought; the tender bruise along his jaw that looks too new to have told you the story yet.

Instinctively, you reach for it… then chicken out, instead teasing the edge of his hair. You’re left wondering if an angel’s wings would be as soft.

Baji glances at you from the corner of his eye. “You don’t like it?”

“What? I didn’t say that.” Your hand falls back to your lap, eyes quick to follow. The light behind him is too bright—too blinding. Too much like a halo. It’s impossible to hide the truth from an angel, and you know you don’t have the right words to convey just how beautiful you find him. “Just… gonna take some getting used to. I don’t think you’ve ever had it this short.”

He scoffs. “Maybe at birth.”

The idea of baby Baji flashes through your mind; sweet, chubby cheeks, little fists flailing at the world. A tuft of hair, dark as his and long already, but when he opens his eyes, they’re yours—

“Why’d you cut it?” your voice is steadier than you expect. It does nothing to change your thoughts, especially when Baji’s slender fingers start pulling at grass, just the way a baby grasps what's in front of him.

He stares straight ahead, letting one hand splay by your lower back as he watches the green blades dance in the wind. “Figured it was time for a change.”

You hmm in acknowledgement, brain too traitorous to come up with anything other than, ‘I bet you were a cute baby’ or ‘you look handsome either way’ or, worst of all, ‘why would you ever want to change?’

He probably meant nothing by it. Baji’s as flexible as they come; sets his own hours at the shop, varies what time he wakes or goes to bed, never eats the same thing too many times in a row… there’s not much permanency in his life as it is, so it sticks with you that he still wants something different.

If he thinks you’re being weird, he doesn’t say so. He waits for you to speak, like always, and like always, you find yourself loving him a little more for it. Baji’s so—quick; to judge, to speak, to fight… but in these moments, when it’s the two of you and the moon and no one else, he’s not. He’s slow; slow to speak, slow to touch, slow to pull away…

Slow to make you wonder why you keep wasting time with boys who don’t deserve it when he might be enough.

The silence becomes too much; too easy to drown in. Too tempting to fill with all the wrong things.

“What happened to your jaw?” is the best you come up with.

It’s no surprise when he answers, “got into a fight,” but how he says it… how he immediately ducks his head and covers the darkening bruise with a broad palm, as if he’d forgotten all about it and wished you would, too… that makes you pause.

One tenet of your relationship is that you don’t lie to each other. There are often times you wish he would, like when Chifuyu teases him about the pretty girl at the pet shop who came back and asked for the number of the flirty hunk who sold her a dog collar and Baji admits she was pretty cute and he’ll take her to drinks tomorrow night, or when Kazutora reminds Baji that he promised to go on a double date with the twins they met clubbing so no, he can’t take a look at that leaky pipe in your bathroom—but you’d never say that. Not when he could, so easily, call you out for keeping your own.

So when he goes out of his way to not have to tell you the truth, you know better than to push.

“Did it hurt?”

Baji looks to you with a cocky smile. “You should see the other guy.” You snort. Baji knocks his shoulder into yours. “I’m good, really. Just… had some business, s’all.”

It’s supposed to be comforting, but it’s not. It only flares your curiosity… and honestly? Your annoyance. “I hadn’t realized a pet shop needed such security.”

Baji barks out a laugh. “I mean, you’ve seen how crazy some people get about their pets, ‘specially when they think Dr. Google is a better resource than Chifuyu’s degree… but nah, this was… off the books.” He catches your inquisitive gaze and offers a smile, but it’s more like a grimace in the lowlight. His hand creeps closer, fingers pressing into your back, and for a moment, you’re willing to let it go. He gently grazes the middle of your spine. “It’s done, alright? Finished. Won’t happen again.”

You know he’s lying because he holds you close, the way he only does when he thinks you’re about to leave.

But you don’t leave; you never leave. You just give him a withering glare you know he can’t see, then turn back to the ocean.

You hate this feeling. The one where the world becomes unsteady, and everything you’d been trying to keep buried since you were thirteen sneaks up on you. That horrid, awful, destructive fascination and jealousy and yearning that’s plagued you since Baji first bragged about stealing a kiss from the pretty girl that lived three floors above him and only gets worse every time he mentions someone new.

Going on dates was supposed to squash this. Meeting a nice guy, having a good time, and getting a kiss or two of your own was supposed to end this. This—obsession—you’ve had since the first time Baji said he hopes that one day, you meet the right guy and you accidentally thought, ‘maybe it’s you.’ Because at the end of the day, he’s the one who’s there. Not Tadashi, who couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Not Draken, who recently started putting Emma above all else (even you). It’s been Baji, your Baji, whose mere existence makes everything better, that’s been the last one standing.

You can’t ruin that. You can’t risk pushing away the only companion who still puts you first for something you’re positive you can find somewhere else.

At least, that’s what you have to tell yourself, as yet another date fails and Baji is here, again, picking up the pieces and making you feel more whole than when the day started.

The sky is nearly dark when you finally ask the question that’s been on your mind since the barista gave you that pity cup—the one that’s probably still sitting in the bathroom, the last witness to your heartbreak. Just as alone and unwanted as you. 

“What’s… wrong with me?”

Baji’s sharp. He alway has been, from the stern angle of his nose to the feral way his teeth carve like a predator’s. He watches everything—the road, the fighters, you—with a scrutiny that’s often clouded behind cheshire grins and snide quips.

But there’s nothing sharp about him tonight; only soft. Soft hands that gently grab your chin and force you to look at him. Soft breathes as he pulls you close. Soft words as he makes sure you hear him whisper, “nothing.” 

Baji’s eyes, dark and teeming with something you can’t place, move from one eye to the other; to the fingers on your cheek; to your tongue, wetting your lips. He leans in, forehead resting against yours as his hand slides back, gripping your hair like you're his lifeline and not the other way around, and you’re back to thinking okay, this is it, he’s going to kiss me, he’s finally going to kiss me—

But all he does is repeat, “absolutely—fuckin’ nothing, alright? And—‘n fuck whoever makes you feel otherwise,” before resuming his seat like nothing happened.

You let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. It’s stale and hot and full of fury, your fury, and suddenly, you can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck you, Keisuke.”

“What?” Baji scrambles for your arm as you abruptly stand, too furious to even look at him. You rip away but don’t stop, trying to will the stupidness of—whatever this is—to go away, to release you so you can go back to feeling better and right and whole. “Wait—come on, I didn’t—what did I say? Did I do something? Where the hell are you going?”

“Forget it!” you snap. His every question—the fact he wants to make it right even though he’s the reason it hurts—just makes it worse. “Just—leave it alone, alright? It obviously doesn’t matter—” 

This time when he grabs your arm, he doesn’t let you leave. He pulls you in to him, nearly crashing you into his chest as he holds you in place.

“Damnit, y/n, what the hell? What did—why are you being like this?” For the first time tonight, he meets your eyes without falter. He tucks a hand under your chin, all but pries your eyes open himself to search for what you're hiding. You try shrugging out of his iron grip, but he’s too strong. “What did I do?”

“Nothing—” You’re horrified at the way your voice cracks. “Fucking—nothing, Baji, you did nothing—“

“Then why’re you so fucking mad, hunh? Why’re you acting like I’m the bad guy here?” His fingers tighten. It would’ve hurt, if you weren’t so angry. “I’m not the asshole who stood ya up—I’m not the one who’s been dickin’ everyone around, pretending like everything’s fine when I know, Draken knows—even fuckin’—Pah-chin—can tell that something’s wrong—“

“You’re calling me an asshole?” you gasp incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“Yes!” he retorts hotly—then, upon realizing how horribly angry you’re growing, quickly backtracks, “I mean—no! Actually, no, you know what, I did mean yeah, because guess what, princess? You are acting like an ass! You’ve got—all these people who wanna be here for you, I want to be here for you, and all you’re doing is getting mad at me for it—”

“What do you want me to say, Baji?” It’s useless, trying to get free, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. “That I’m—heartbroken—at being stood up—again? That I’m done with dating, that I’m giving up, that everyone fucking sucks but I must suck worse—”

“They don’t deserve you—”

“Like hell!” Your tone is scalding. It must burn him just as bad, because a single lapse in his grip lets you rip your arm away. “That’s the whole goddamn point of dating, jackass, to figure out who’s worth what—and all this has shown is that I’m not worth it, to anyone.” You slam your hands against his chest, tears stinging your lash line. If you weren’t so angry, you might not have missed how his face falters when you push him away. “And you just—sitting there, and—and holding me like that, and—and telling me that I’m not the problem when I’m the only common denominator—you’re such a fucking liar—”

“You think it’s any easier for me?” he’s quick to yell, frustration making him bare his teeth like fangs. Anyone else would’ve cowered—but you stand your ground. Place two hands on his chest and shove, hard, forcing him back as he continues, “you think it’s any easier to see you gettin’ your hopes up, to freak out over what to text, what to wear, what to do—all for those fuckin’ dickweeds? Hunh? Guys who can’t even—spell your name right, or remember what your favorite flower is, or fucking—show up? You think it’s any fucking easier seeing you so goddamn upset over someone who doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone spend time with you–be with you? Because it’s not, sweetheart!”

The sweet pet name that usually makes your heart skip a beat only aggravates you further. Your hands go from shoving to slamming, open palms against the hard muscle of his chest—but he doesn’t even flinch. Just catches your wrists before you can do it again and stares, like you’ve started speaking in tongues. “Oh, poor Baji, must be hard, hunh, thinking no one’s good enough, thinking everyone’s so lucky as to have people throwing themselves at them left and right—but newsflash, Keisuke, not all of us are like you! Not all of us have the ability to pick whoever we want, some of us actually have to work at it—“

“Stop working on the wrong guys then!”

“You’ve never even met them, how would you know—“

“Because they let me stand in the way!”

The world stills. 

You can’t place why; why this feels like a sucker punch, why your heart is suddenly skipping beats–why you can’t tell if this hurts. Not until Baji’s grip tightens, then his eyes widen, and you have a sneaking suspicion you know where this is going—but still, you ask, “what?”

He doesn’t respond. He can’t.

He lets go of you, though every fiber in his being begs him to stay. He takes a step back, though his heart pleads for him to wrap you in his arms and hold you close and tell you the truth, about what he did, why he did it, why he can’t bring himself to regret it…

He has to turn his back to you, to stare at the waves crashing along the sand as he tries to process just how badly he’s fucked this up and if there’s any possibility for redemption. It’s too late to lie. Too late to try and salvage this.

He’s made his bed; it’s time to lie in it.

Baji sighs–or something close. Something choked, not quite a laugh but also not quite a sob. Something is stuck in him, and even with the ice in your veins, you piece it together. Somehow, this—the failed dates, the heartache, the loneliness—it's all his fault.

Still, you have to ask. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You try making the venom in your voice match that in your blood, but you can’t. Not when he looks so—defeated. He runs his hands through his hair, doing a miserable job of either pretending he can’t hear you or attempting to buy enough time to come up with a plausible lie—though you don’t need him to. Not when his actions say enough.

It’s your turn to reach for him. Your turn to grab his arm, to keep him in place. You want to hold on to your anger, but the way his hands are shaking makes it impossible.

You draw him close, voice gentle as you say his name. You reach for his cheek, keeping his hands still with one of yours, and you tilt his head; he lets you tilt his head so that he has no choice but to look at you. 

When your gazes meet, you wait.

“I had to,” he eventually says. His voice is steady, but his hands aren’t. His fingers wrap around your wrists tightly, as if he’s afraid you might try leaving—but your grip on him is equally tight. “They weren’t good for you. They were jerks, and they were only going to break your heart, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. I had to—I had to.”

“Had to… what?” He doesn’t answer, not until you prompt, “had to what, Baji?”

“Don’t—” he breathes. “Don’t… call me that.” His eyes close, and he leans into the palm on his cheek. For a moment, you pretend that he’s memorizing the feel of you, as if he’s scared to lose you—but that can’t be it. Keisuke Baji isn’t afraid of anything.

You’re not sure what’s more painful: the knots in your stomach or the hope in your heart. “Tell me what you did,” you muster up. “Keisuke, tell me what you did.”

When his eyes finally open, all of his anger is gone. In its place is something you’ve rarely seen, and even rarer directed at you: desperation.

“I stopped them.”

For a moment, all you hear is your own heart… then the waves of truth come crashing down.

“I—I found them, and I swear on my life, on your life—I only meant to talk to them, to figure out if—if they had good intentions, if they were gonna treat you right—but they all sucked, y/n, they were awful—going on and on about how they were—how they wanted to—to fuck you, just to say they could—or they weren’t—serious about how they felt and I couldn’t—I couldn’t let them do that, I couldn’t let them hurt you like that, so I… I hurt them first. Not—not much, just enough so they’d—get the idea. Leave you alone. Stay away from my girl—”

He cuts himself off, and for a moment, you’re frozen. You don’t know what to do, what to think—is this real? Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Does he really mean it?

Baji’s voice cracks when he says your name.

“Y/n, listen—listen to me,” he pleads. His forehead presses against yours. Your cheeks grow wet, though you can’t tell if that’s because of you or him. “You are—the most amazing person in this whole freaking world. You get that? You’re—smart, and pretty, and so fucking funny and—and anyone who can’t see that is an idiot. And it fucking—kills me—that you’ve got it in your head that what these—stupid pricks think is the only thing that matters, because it’s not. It’s never mattered. The only thing—the only thing that has ever mattered… is you. Okay? You.”

Your throat closes. Your hands reach for his, catching only wrists as he cradles your face, trying to ground yourself in this moment. In all the things he says and all the things he doesn’t; in the silent, desperate dream that refused—refuses—to die, taking over you once more.

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” His lips are so close, they brush your nose. “I’d say I regret it, but I don’t, because— you deserve better. You deserve the world, if you want, or—or the moon and all the stars, and—and unless they’d get it for you, they don’t deserve you. Okay? None of them deserved you.”

You’re just a hair away from kissing him, from caving to the impulses you thought were dead and gone and hopeless all these years, and the worst possible sentence sinks out: “you’re an idiot, Kei.”

Then you lean forward and kiss him.

In an instant—you feel whole. You feel right, in a way you haven’t since you decided you never had a chance with him; in a way you’ve been searching for in the words of all the others who’d let you down, who’d broken your heart and always, always, always led you back to moonrise with Baji, back home—

Baji jolts. He pulls away and stares at you with a wild mixture of shock and confusion. His fingers ghost his lips, only to draw back as he stares at them, then at you, then back at them, like he can’t quite comprehend this hand is attached to his body—like you were. Like you want to be, like you thought he wanted to be, like you thought he was asking you to be—

Your heart plummets as he just—stands, no witty quip or teasing remark at the ready. No lines to read between; no phrasing to draw false confessions from; nothing other than the stillness of the night, and the pounding of your heart.

“Wait—” you shrink as you realize just how hoarse a single stolen kiss has left you. “I thought—please, Kei—”

A flicker of… something dances in his eyes, and then—he watches you. Studies you, with the same scrutiny he holds before a fight or when picking apart a bike to see what parts are broke and what can be saved.

“Say it again.”

It’s your turn to blink; your turn to have wide eyes and parted lips, to study him like you’re not sure how to fix it. “I don’t—“

“My name,” he says, and your heart starts to leap. “Say my name, sweetheart.”

“I say your name all the time, Keisuke.” You’re barely above a whisper. Barely above the fear that this time, he’ll break your heart and there’ll be no one to pick up the pieces because—you ruined this.

“Not like that,” he breathes. You forget how to. “Say it like it means something. Like—you don’t hate me. Like—”

“Kei,” you interrupt, hands coming to cradle his cheeks as you read between the lines, “I forgive y—”

He doesn’t even let the final word form before his lips are on yours. Hard, aggressively melding like he’s worried you might change your mind and wants to milk every second out of this as he can—but you reciprocate just as desperately. Keisuke’s hands wrap around you, one gripping the base of your neck and the other resting on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly close, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His mouth opens, teasing your lips apart as you trade air, fingers digging into your soft skin like it’s the last thing he’ll ever touch.

You pull away first, and that’s only because your lungs are aching—not that you mind. The pain helps make this feel real. 

For once, Keisuke’s grin doesn’t seem mocking. He moves a hand to cradle your face, thumb rubbing against your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, sweetheart.”

“Not as long as I have,” you admit with a breathy laugh. Your hands lock around his neck, fingers playing with his hair, and you realize you’re smiling.

You kissed. Keisuke kissed you, you kissed him—everything makes sense. Everything is right, and with the moon and tides as your witness, everything is good again.

“Can I…” Keisuke starts, eyes flicking to your lips in an unspoken question. You finish his sentence with a kiss.

“You can always kiss me, Kei,” you say. “You don’t even have to ask.”

There’s the grin you recognize; the scheming, teasing grin that always makes your stomach flip in a way you thought meant he’s up to no good, but now realize as a sign you’d fallen for him long ago. 

“Oh, yeah?” he questions, brushing his lips against yours. “Only here? Or can I kiss… here?” He moves to the corner of your lips, then to the hollow of your cheek as he continues, “and… here? And maybe…”

He trails off, and he trails down, letting his lips drag against your cheek while his hand keeps you firmly in place, lips going done to your chin, down the column of your throat and back up. Your breathy yes would be pathetic—if it ever made it out. All that escapes is a breathy groan of displeasure when he stops, teasing lips hovering just above your own. “What’s that, babe? Want me t’stop?”

“You’re such an asshole.”

Your hands tangle in his hair, lips melding as your make-out turns heated. He slides his tongue along the seam of your lips, silently asking you to open—and you do. His hands curl around you, bringing you closer until there’s no space left between you.

Something digs into your leg. Something hard and unmistakable, and it leaves you grinning deeper than Kei.

You break away, laughing at his whine of protest and briefly glance down. Keisuke follows your eyes and is quick to splutter a nervous chuckle, hands dropping as he tries to step away with a short apology—though the way you catch his belt loops stops him. “Shit—sorry, I didn’t—I just—it’s your fault, y’know—“

“Shut up,” you giggle and drag him back. Now, you kiss him; once, twice, then a third before trailing your lips along the sharp ridge of his cheekbone, along his temple, to his ear. “How about you take me home, Kei?”

Keisuke’s whiplash nearly hurts you. His eyes, big and brown and wide, stare like you’ve grown an extra head. His hands shakily splay against your back, as if he wants to keep you close but he’s not sure he’s allowed to. His voice wavers slightly when he asks, “but I thought… aren’t… I mean, isn’t this… what you wanted?”

Slowly, you nod. Even slower, you pointedly look at the space between you, bridged only by the tent of his black pants. You smile at the sweet way a blush covers his cheeks, and risk slowly trailing your hand along his belt until your fingertips are hovering over that stupid, shiny, obnoxiously big belt buckle you always tease him for.

“I want you, Keisuke, and I want you to take me home.”

He doesn’t need more encouragement. 

Keisuke’s kisses grow fiercer. He devours you, never once breaking contact as his hands slide to find firm purchase on the back of your thighs. With ease, he lifts you atop his bike, setting you in front of him and stepping between your spread legs. The hem of your dress slides up with his calloused palms, collecting in a bunch then pooling down to protect your modesty as he finds two handfuls of ass. He gives a squeeze, eliciting a delighted gasp from you, then pulls back with a toothy smile.

“Then have me, sweetheart. Always been yours, anyways.” 

Your stomach twists, the way it always does when he looks at you like that, and you like it. It makes sense, it feels right—and you don’t have to pretend to justify why it makes your panties wet.

“Gotta—gotta get home—“ you try saying, but Keisuke’s hands have a mind of their own. They’re the only reason you’re still upright as he starts kissing along your neck, carefully grazing his sharp teeth but never once digging in. Your arms lop around him, digging into his scalp and shoulders as he finds this one spot that makes you moan, and you almost curse him for what that smile has done to you.

“Fuckin’—insane—if you think I'ma make it,” he mumbles into your skin, and you think you finally understand how some people can climax from someone’s voice alone.

You laugh and intend to push him away and demand that he do, that you have to, that you need to, because this—isn’t like you, you’re not one to get hot and heavy like this, certainly not in public—

But you can’t think straight. Not when Keisuke’s hands are kneading your ass, pinching and releasing like he can’t decide if he wants to hold on forever or explore somewhere new. Not when his teeth nibble your neck, and you shudder at the unbelievably primal sensation running through you.

Not when the unmistakable hardness of Keisuke’s boner finds home between your thighs, and he starts bucking his hips. It’s subtle, and he doesn’t tease you for the pathetic way you start whimpering. He focuses on continuing to explore the expanse of your otherwise untouched skin, while all you can do is revel in the way your high starts building.

You’ve been kissed before, on the lips and neck and once a little lower, but no one’s ever done this to you; pressed against your collarbone. Moved your neckline aside to suck on the fat of your breast. Left a mark that’ll last longer than a minute. For a moment, you wonder if you should tell him he’s the first, but when the zipper of his pants starts catching your clit, the only thing you’re able to do is moan his name.

Loudly.

Breathy and passionate and different than before, and he pauses. Lifts his head from your collarbone, a thin tendril of salvia keeping his lips still attached to the sensitive skin you know will bruise. He lets one hand trail up your side and cup your face, staring like this might be the last time he ever sees you, all while his hips continue to rut against you.

“Say it again,” he breathes, thumb catching your bottom lip. “Just—just like that.”

“Kei,” you repeat, giggling at the way he brightens and starts kissing you, “we need to go home—now.” For good measure, you boldly let your fingers slide to the edge of his belt buckle, in case he needs some more convincing. His free hand darts to yours, but he doesn’t stop you. He laces his fingers in yours and guides you, letting you palm at his thick hard-on. He lets out a low groan and drops his head from your lips to rest at your chest, just above the collar of your dress. You card one hand through his hair, the other applying light pressure to the (you assume) very painful ache between his legs—and not at all because you know, if he kept bucking into your core the way he just was, the way he keeps doing against your palm—you wouldn’t be able to make it home, either. “Take—take me home, Kei—”

“Not—” he huffs. His grip on your ass tightens, but you can barely feel it. Not when Keisuke whines, low and needy, teeth coming out to nip at your breast, and all you can focus on is the ache between your own legs, getting even worse as his hips start moving faster, forcing the back of your hand against your cunt as you continue to palm him. His hips don’t stop; they push against you so fiercely, so desperately, that you cave, taking away your hand so there’s nothing between you but your clothes. 

You’re on the precipice in minutes; hands digging into his shoulders as you choke on a sob, pleading with him to go faster, to not stop, to keep making you feel good—and it’s made all the worse when he does, pressing his throbbing erection even harder against your soaked panties, all the while pleading into your skin, “can’t—can’t—fuck, baby, I can’t—y/n—“

You gasp when his teeth break skin.

Keisuke’s hips still. Warm air saturates your chest as he groans into it, and for a moment you’re frozen. Your whole body aches, and you want to scream at the cruel way your orgasm was stolen—but you’re too in shock that he got you there that fast, that easily. Something warm trickles down your cheeks, between your breasts—blood? saliva? tears?—he doesn’t move. You don’t move. You’re not even sure he’s breathing, until his shoulders heave and your skin is warmed once more. A slight burn starts to spread across your chest, and when you open your mouth to ask him why the hell he stopped—all that comes out is his name.

You say it softly, then a little louder, but it’s not until you grab his face and force him to look up that he speaks—but his eyes are fixed firmly on the reddening bite mark forming atop your breast.

“M’sorry…”

A mean part of you wants to tell him he owes you a lot more than sorry, but the way his lower lip disappears as he nervously chews on it has you choosing otherwise. “It’s okay,” you comfort instead, “it didn’t hurt that bad.”

Keisuke grimaces. “No, I—” 

He sighs, head dropping back to your chest. Both arms wrap around your waist, and he presses a light kiss to the place he’d just bitten; the only way he probably figures he can keep close without meeting your gaze. He mumbles something, but you only know because you feel his lips moving.

“Can’t hear you…” you try prompting, but it only makes him snuggle deeper. He sighs again, loud and warm and in a way you’re familiar with—the way that really means, I can’t believe I have to do this… “C’mon, Kei, don’t you want to take me home?”

“Ididntmakeit.”

You have never, ever, in your life ever seen Keisuke embarrassed. Not when he told you about needing Chifuyu to tutor him post-juvie; not when he failed his college entry exams; not even when you accidentally walked in on him showering (in hindsight, he was probably a little too comfortable with how long it might’ve taken you to leave).

This was the man who went skinny dipping for fun. He’ll order fruity drinks for his friends who are too embarrassed to do it themselves. His approach to a lost fight is to get a rematch, not pretend it didn’t exist, and even in mundane moments that have you at a loss for words, like mistaking someone’s name or forgetting a face, Kei’s always quick for a retort or defense or a smile that makes everything better.

Keisuke Baji doesn’t get embarrassed—but that’s the only word that fits. His cheeks are redder than you’ve ever seen, his breathing faster than his pulse. His eyes refuse to meet yours, and his fingers knead into clumsy, nervous patterns along the side of your thighs.

Then he takes a deep breath, and with one shaking hand, he slowly brings your palm to the crotch of his pants… that are now sticky.

Your eyes widen, and you’re almost too late to choke down a gasp. Kei’s eyes close, and he ducks his head in shame. “I didn’t—I mean, I haven’t—you're just—I’m so sorry—”

“Why?” It sounds curt, and you don’t intend it to. Better than laughing, you reason—although you will absolutely get him for this later… when it stops feeling like the most humiliating thing in the world.

Keisuke swallows. “I haven’t ever… you know.”

“What, cum early?” It’s cruel to tease, you know that, but you can’t stop the slight satisfaction that you—you—are able to bring a man like Keisuke Baji to his knees.

“No! I mean—no, I…” Kei looks out to the ocean, fingers still anxiously kneading into your thighs. The temperature drops, though you’re not sure if it actually does or you’re just feeling like it as you try to understand what’s happened, what’s happening—what you’re to do next. His jaw clenches and he tries to pull away from you, but you don’t let him. You wrap your legs around the backs of his thighs, keeping him in place.

“Kei…” you say softly. You don’t force him to look at you. Instead, you let your fingers trail up his abs, curling around his neck so you can rest your forehead against his temple and kiss his cheek. “I don’t care. Just means you gotta make it up to me—”

“I’ve never had sex before.”

You’re grateful he doesn’t look at you, because you’re not able to control the utter shock coloring your face. How is that possible? You’ve heard the whispers when you go out; you’ve seen the looks. At parties or bars or clubs, he’d find a pretty thing and disappear, and you assumed you knew what happened behind those closed doors—because why, why, why would you want to ask about that? 

The others didn’t dispel it, either; in fact, they’d constantly rip on him for his… gift, and Keisuke never fought back. He’d just smirk and wink and say, “it’s never disappointed,” and by the time you’d turned red, thinking about when you caught him in the shower and knew what they were saying was true, they’d moved on to taunting someone else.

So how the hell is it possible that Keisuke’s a virgin—and, more importantly, how didn’t you know?

You’re not sure how long it takes you to recover. If he were to ask, you’d say you were just waiting for him—because when you do speak, it’s only when Keisuke turns to you with narrowed eyes, an apprehensive blush clear on his face. 

“Wanna know a secret?” you ask, forcing a teasing lilt to your voice—though your stomach twists. This isn’t exactly the way you wanted to tell him, and for a flash, you think of how disappointed he might be to learn the truth. 

But when he meets your gaze, eyes wide and focused entirely on you, somewhere between hopeful and nervous, you know it’s for the best. Your smile is sweet, but not as sweet as your lips when you kiss the crinkle between his eyes. He immediately relaxes, hands stilling as he leans into you. “Neither have I.”

He straightens and pulls far enough away so he can examine you. For a minute, your confession hangs between the two of you, then Kei starts floundering, “but I thought… you said… but he… what about your ex?”

You shrug, your own cheeks starting to flush. “It never felt right.”

Keisuke blinks. His mouth parts, eyes darting between yours like he’s waiting for the gotcha!, but all he receives is the embarrassed way you can’t meet his gaze, feeling as if you’ve somehow let him down. You squirm, his warm hands still atop your thighs sending butterflies to your stomach, and shrug again. “I dunno, I just—didn’t think it was fair. Doing that with someone, when all I could think about…” you swallow, lips twisting as you debate whether or not to tell him the truth. 

He catches your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Think about what, sweetheart?”

The way he asks tells you he already knows; but like earlier, when you knew and had to hear it anyway, he needs you to say it, too.

So you take a steadying breath. You gently trail a finger down the side of his jaw, and you make yourself smile as you say, “you, Kei. It didn’t seem right if it wasn’t you.”

This time when he kisses you, it’s slow. He takes his time in tasting you, in savoring the moment. He lets you guide where his lips go, how his hands wander, and he waits for you to pull back before he suggests, “how about I take you home now?”

Your stomach flutters. Fingers knot at the base of his skull, and slowly, a smile spreads on your face. 

“I’d like that.”

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple. You can feel the joy in it, one that doesn’t fade for either of you as he unhooks your legs so you can properly straddle the bike, then tucks the helmet on you and pops on himself.

“Hold on,” he calls as he revs the engine, “might be goin’ a bit faster than usual.”

“Don’t worry,” you laugh, and even though you know he probably can’t hear you, you add, “I’m never letting go.”

You make it to Keisuke’s apartment in seven minutes flat—which, normally, would leave you terrified, given his place is twenty minutes from your spot, but you doubt that’s what’s got your heart racing. He barely gives you enough time to take the helmet off before his hands are back on you, easily scooping you up and carrying you up the stairs. You bump into a few walls, and the way you’ve got a loose grasp on his helmet sends it craning into his back just as often, but neither of you care. Between fits of giggles and cautious glances to make sure he’s not about to walk you through a glass door (or down a stairwell), you kiss like it’ll be the last time you ever get the chance to.

“Anyone home?” you mumble into his lips. He slams you against the front door of his shared three-bedroom apartment, using his hips to keep you up while he tries to find the lock by memory.

“Nope,” he replies, lips busy with your skin, fingers fumbling uselessly behind you. “Stupid—fucking lock—told Tora to leave it—never fuckin’ listens—”

“Relax,” you laugh, although that’s rich coming from you. Your legs tighten around him as you break free from his kiss, instead sucking along the column of his throat. Freeing his face is supposed to give him enough room to actually look for the lock, so the two of you can stop dry-humping in the hall and finally get the privacy you need—but like always, Keisuke does the unexpected.

He throws his head back and moans, giving you more access to leave a matching hickey—and you’re not strong enough to resist the temptation. A whine starts in his throat, from where you’re sucking on his pale skin. The keys clatter to the ground.

“Keisuke,” you scold—but before you can tease him for being in a rush, his lips are back on yours.

“Never gonna make it,” is his only defense.

“Gonna—gonna have to,” you reply, but every time you try pulling away or reach for the keys yourself, he grabs you. Wraps your wrists in his rough hands, pins them to the door beside your head, and leans so far forward that, even with your limp legs, he’s able to keep you up himself. “Kei—“

“So help me sweetheart,” he warns, hips rolling against yours with a sense of urgency only outmatched by his kiss, “if you keep saying my name like that, I swear to the gods I’m gonna fuck you right here.”

“So help me, sweetheart,” you shoot back, breathy and hot as you try to avoid the way his lips chase yours, “if you don’t get me inside right now, I might let you.”

He freezes. Pulls away from the delightful bruise he’d just been leaving below your ear and stares at you with a mixture of awe and utter delight. “Really?”

You swat the back of his head. “No, dumbass, open the fucking door.”

Keisuke’s lips, pink and bruising slightly, twist in a pretend pout as he squats. He keeps one thick palm under your thigh, keeping your leg wrapped around him as he snags his keys. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“Says the guy who does—that,” you try scoffing, but you’re cut off with a moan when Kei stands and bounces you against his hips. His boner is back and harder than before, pressing into your core, the messy, wet mix of your drenched panties and his earlier cum making a lewd sound in the otherwise silent hallway. 

“Does… what, babe?” he teases. “C’mon, finish that sentence.” 

You don’t know how he finds the focus to actually find the lock this time, but you thank every deity in the world that he does—because it takes just a second, a single, solitary second for him to jimmy it in, slam the door open, and you’re finally alone.

The door frame rattles. Something falls, but you can’t tell if it’s the mirror you insisted he hang above the entry table you insisted he get or if it’s the rickety old coat rack Chifuyu said would ‘class up the joint’; all you know is that as soon as the key is in, Baji’s hands are back to cradling your thighs for support as he crosses the threshold. 

You reach for the door, but he catches it with his ankle and slams it shut, quickly spinning to pin you against it.

“Really—” you pant, “really got the place—to ourselves?”

“Mhm,” Keisuke confirms. He leans into you, palms rubbing along your thighs until they get to your knees, silently asking you to wrap tighter around him. You do, and the moment he feels your ankles cross at the small of his back, his hands move to your waist. “Told ‘em—needed space.”

“Oh?” you question, your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt and tug, tug, tugging—“And when’d you do that?”

He reaches behind his head and yanks his tee off, tossing it carelessly into the darkness of the apartment. You hadn’t even paused to turn on the lights.

“After I saw Tadashi.” You can tell he’s grinning, especially as you drag your nails along the chiseled plane of his abs. His hands slide up your torso, thumb rubbing your stomach through the thin cotton of your dress, grazing the underwire of your bra. “Told Tora this one wasn’t gonna work, either, ’n he said I should just tell ya the truth, 'cause he couldn’t watch me mope around all night again—”

“Mope?” you tease. Kei’s fingers dig in. “Kazutora accused you of moping?”

“Well—shut up!” he whines. “You try watching the person you’re in love with go out with guys who don’t deserve them and tell me you wouldn’t start moping either—y/n? Why… are you looking at me like that?”

Your eyes are wide. Your hands go limp, the helmet falling to the floor with a loud clatter. Your lips part to say… something, but you’re not sure what.

Keisuke’s told you he’s loves you a thousand times; the brief ‘kay love ya! before he hangs up; the gentle love you, see ya tomorrow whenever he’d bring you home; the drawn out gods I love you after you’ve surprised him with his favorite meal—but none like this.

None so… blatant. So unmistakable.

Kei stares at you curiously, as if he isn’t even aware of what he’s just said. He repeats your name, hands leaving your waist to catch your chin.

“You’re… in love with me?” 

Keisuke blinks.

For a moment, you think you must’ve misheard, he must’ve misspoke, you must have misunderstood—but a brilliant smile breaks his face, and he nuzzles his nose against yours. “‘Course I’m in love with you, sweetheart. I’ve been in love with you, and I ain’t ever gonna stop loving you—”

You kiss him.

The gentlest one yet. The way you always dreamed your first one would be; soft, sweet, lips pressing together while your hands held him close. Heartbeats synching. The world falling away as it’s just the two of you, in this moment, endless and forever.

There’s only one thing to say when you pause: “I love you too, Keisuke.”

Your teeth knock together as Keisuke can’t contain his smile, either. Hands move, one around the small of your back and the other under a single thigh. Your lips never part as he carries you to his room.

He sets you at the foot of his bed and stands above you. His chest heaves, bare and flushed with need. Your hands slip from his neck to his bed to keep yourself propped up, legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. Keisuke’s hands travel to your knees, and he just—stares.

He loves you. How could he not, with the way that pretty dress puddles on his mattress, exposing nearly all of your leg but hiding what he’s been waiting for his whole adult life? How could he not, with the way his spit makes your collar glistens in the moonlight, filtering in from behind those sheer curtains you insisted he get? How could he not love the way you say his name, reaching towards him, fingers catching on his belt buckle as you ask him if he’s ready?

“Not yet,” he whispers. The hoarseness of his voice, the way it’s dropped several octaves from merely seeing you on his bed, sends a jolt of electricity through you. You’re about to ask why, but the reverence in how he’s looking at you makes you not want to break this spell.

He trails his fingers along your calves. Gently, he unhooks your legs from his waist. His fingers shake as he struggles with the straps of your heels, but when you go to help, he catches your wrist. 

“No,” he repeats, “not yet.”

You keep quiet and merely watch as your best friend, the man of your dreams, takes his time in undressing you. One wedge, then the other, falling off your feet with a dull clank! on the carpet. Keisuke kisses your ankles, then starts kissing up your calves, then your knees, then your thighs—

The anticipation has you dripping. Your thighs instinctively clench when he gets to your hem, hands curling into fists by your sides. Your panties are uncomfortably glued to your cunt, sticky in a way you’ve never been before, and he’s not even lifted your dress to see yet.

Keisuke rests his chin atop your thigh. “Please,” he pleads—pleads—“Let me—baby, let me. I wanna taste you.”

Today is not the day you learn to refuse him.

Your muscles shake from anticipation as you slowly spread your legs, but that’s not enough for him. “Baby, no, I—I wanna hear you say it.” His voice is soft, shaky. A little hesitant, as if he’s not sure if this’ll ruin the moment but he knows he has to be sure—he has to hear you say it… if only to revel in the desperate way you say his name. 

“Keisuke, please… whatever you want, have it. Just—touch me, Kei, please, I need you—“

“Need you too, sweetheart,” he praises, running his lips along your thigh. “Gonna—gonna have you now, okay?”

His fingers still shake when he lifts your dress, exposing the black lace of your panties to him. At first glance, he can’t tell that they’re absolutely soaked—but that doesn’t stop the way you start to squirm in embarrassment as he just… stares. His thumbs dig into the fat of your hips, broad palms keeping your thighs spread and pinned to the bed.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s not breathing.

“Kei?”

He doesn’t look up. 

His grip gets tighter. His eyes narrow. Before you get the chance to ask him what’s wrong, he growls, “you wore these for him?”

You blink. That is not what you were expecting, but before you can defend with they’re my lucky pair, or I wanted to feel sexy, or it doesn’t matter, I’m here with you—Keisuke’s ripped them off.

You yelp when the fabric bites your skin, failing to wriggling away as Keisuke strips them off your ankle. “What the fuck—“

“I’ll get you a new pair,” he mutters. “Shit—I’ll get you a hundred pairs, but you get rid of every single set someone else has seen. Got it?”

Your lips purse. He’s being unreasonable, you think, and totally ridiculous… but no matter how much your brain tries to reason he’s out of line, your fluttering pussy doesn’t get the message. Your slick is evident now, exposed and iridescent in the moonlight, dripping down your hole and slowly saturating the sheets.

Usually, Keisuke wouldn’t let it go. Usually, he’d keep picking at it until you cave, or at least recognize you heard him—but usually, he’s not staring at your cunt. 

Right now, he can’t focus on anything but how desperate he is to be inside you.

“Yeah, think ya got it… fuck, babe… seems like you like it when I say shit like that, hunh?” 

You whimper slightly, having to bite your lip to keep it together. Slowly, he drags the tip of his finger from the sheet beneath you up along your wet folds. He barely touches you, but when he pulls his finger away, it’s covered in a layer of you. 

He brings it to his face with a cocky grin, watching how the pad shines in the moonlight. “You always this wet, or am I special?”

“Shut up,” you shoot back, preparing to bring up how special he found you earlier—only to immediately throw your head back and moan as Keisuke buries his face between your legs.

There is no preamble. There are no more teasing quips or pauses; Keisuke dives in like a man starved, and the only thing that can sate his appetite is you.

He starts with broad strokes, gathering as much of your slick as he can. He’s messy, messier than you, and soon there’s more of his spit than your wetness between your legs. His arms wrap around your thighs, keeping them pinned and spread on his shoulders as he continues to feast, thumbs spreading your lips open so he can truly devour you.

When Keisuke starts suckling on your clit, your fingers knot in his hair. You moan, loud and whiney and plead for him to keep going as your orgasm starts to boil—faster than before, more powerful too, with greater ease than you’ve ever managed to pull from yourself.

Keisuke brings a hand to your clit, quickly swiping the puffy bud with the pad of his thumb as he focuses his tongue on your fluttering hole. In and out, up and down, the warm muscle drives you insane. Your grip on his hair must hurt, but he says nothing; he focuses on making you feel as good as humanly possible, never once letting up, not even when you start to choke, “Kei—I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” he commands. “C’mon, pretty girl, make a mess on my face, wanna feel how you clench, wanna make ya cry—”

It sends you over the edge.

With a scream of his name, your back arches. Your thighs try closing around him but still, he doesn’t let up. He keeps pace, tongue-fucking you, lapping up all the juice that spills out as his thumb continues caressing your clit until you do start crying and you do have to plead, “no—no more, Kei, can’t—“

“Can,” he corrects—but he stops. His hand stills, moving so that the warmth of his palm covers that sensitive bundle of nerves, and only then does he stop lapping at your hole. He presses a gentle kiss to your sex, then to your inner thigh. “But I’ll be nice tonight, sweetheart. Only ‘cause I love you, though.”

You stare at the ceiling as you catch your breath. The paint is peeling in the corner. The glow-in-the-dark stars you helped him put up when he first moved in are dim. The walls are covered in motorcycle posters. A calendar set to the wrong month hangs above a salvaged desk, covered with various veterinary textbooks, barely legible notebooks, a handful of empty beer cans, and a handful of DVD cases, one of which you know is Dyslexia; How to Read When Even Your Brain Doesn’t Want You To. A neon sign advertising Margaritaville is unlit beside his closet. A pile of clothes that didn’t make it to the hamper rests beneath it.

 The room is so—Keisuke , you feel at peace, even as your limbs turn to jelly.

Your heart is racing faster than if you’d just run a marathon. “Thought—thought you said you hadn’t—“ you try panting, but it’s too much effort, too soon. You end up collapsing back on the bed, head swimming with euphoria.

“Said I hadn’t had sex,” Keisuke corrects as he stands, your limp thighs falling to the either side of his waist, “not that I’ve never eaten pussy.” He scoffs, as if that should’ve been obvious. “I’m not an idiot, babe. I respect women enough to know where the clit is.”

A little laugh escapes you. The fan motor is the only other sound. It’s cool, your nipples perk beneath your bra, but you’re still hot. Still hyper aware that Keisuke is just a few inches away, watching your bare cunt flutter and beg him for more.

Keisuke does love you. You know he does, because he gives you time to catch your breathe before he starts up again, only pressing soft kisses to the inside of your legs and quiet offerings of, “so fuckin’ pretty” and “can’t believe you’re here” and, your favorite, the only one you respond to: “so in love with you.” 

“I love you too, Kei.”

He runs his hands along your sides, slowly taking more and more of your dress up with it until the entire thing is resting by your neck. He makes quick work of your bra, not even needing you to sit up as he unhooks it and lifts the cups away.

He says nothing; just stares at your naked body with the same adoration and awe he held when taking off your shoes.

“You’re—so beautiful,” he whispers. “Y’know that? So—so fuckin’ beautiful.”

He bends down and takes a pert nipple in his mouth. You whine, hate yourself for doing so, then whine again as his free hand starts tweaking your other nipple. He runs his tongue over every inch of your chest, making sure you’re covered with his spit and hands, traversing as much of you as he can.

When he gets to your face, he smiles. “You’re mine, yeah? All mine?”

Your fingers run over his jaw, over the bruise that’s barely discernible in the moonlight. No one’s touched you like him; no one’s even kissed you like him, either, and you’re not sure if it’s the “Keisuke” of it all making you feel like this, or if this is how it’s supposed to have felt all along. 

The answer comes easily.

“Yeah,” you agree with a smile of your own, “yeah, m’all yours, Keisuke. Pretty sure I always have been.”

“Always, hunh?” He holds you gently now; a stark contrast to the hungry way he’d just devoured you. “That mean you’ve always loved me, too?”

Your breathy yes is lost in a gasp when his hand slides between your legs. Gently, he prods a single thick finger into your virgin hole, shallowly dipping in and out. “Never had someone else in here, hunh? M’gonna be your first?”

“Y-yes,” you repeat, voice cracking. Your eyes flutter close as he keeps fingering you. You’d had fingers in there before, but none like this. Your own couldn’t compare, two of yours barely able to stretch the way one of his does… and he’s not even going all the way. Not even knuckle deep as he explores only the shallows, letting you adjust.

Your face scrunches when he adds a second.

“This okay?” he asks. You look at him, hand wrapping around his neck as you bring his forehead down to meet yours.

You nod, then remember what he said earlier, how you could feel his cock jumping when you were sweet and needy for him. “Yeah, Keisuke. Yes—yes, I want this. I want you.”

He cups your face and trails soft kisses from corner to corner, breaking apart only to lift your dress and bra over your head. They’re carelessly thrown to the floor, you have half a mind to scold him that it’ll wrinkle—but when he goes back to your cunt, two fingers halfway in, all you’re able to say is the harsh inhale of his name.

They’re shallow, never pushing in deep enough to hurt, slowly stretching your rim to its max. He goes a little deeper, then starts scissoring them, and it becomes nearly impossible to believe he hasn’t done this before.

“No—no way you’re a virgin,” you hiss when Keisuke’s lips travel to your breast. He alternates between sucking hickeys and kneading them while staring at the way your cunt sucks him in, never stopping his ministrations.

Keisuke lets out a short scoff and shifts. “You literally made me cum my pants like a teenager.”

“Then how—“

“I told ya, babe, I respect women,” is his only reply. The only one he’s willing to give, at least, because he starts paying more attention to your tits than what questions are spilling his way.

You feel like you’ve got to be ready when he adds a third, and you say as much—only for Keisuke to meet your gaze with a cocky grin. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re gonna thank me for this.” 

It can’t be much longer until he deems you ready, but it feels like forever, even if he keeps you distracted from the slight burn between your legs by playing with your breasts, sucking on your throat, praising you.

“Taking m’fingers so well, pretty thing. You’re such a good girl f’me, can’t believe you made me wait this long…”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you scold. He curls his fingers mid-way through your sentence, rubbing against a sensitive spot you’ve never been able to find on your own. You keen his name, hand snapping down to catch his forearm. He pauses.

“Too much?”

Slowly, you shake your head, eyes watering. “Please, Kei, I—I want you to fuck me.”

Keisuke presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Never could say no to you, sweetheart.”

If you could think clearly, you’d start listing all the times he has denied you, starting with just a few seconds ago—but him withdrawing his fingers leaves you feeling too empty to do much but pout.

When he pulls away, you chase after him, only for him to shake his head with a fond grin. “How am I supposed to fuck you if you won’t let me take my pants off?”

With hot cheeks, your lips twist. “You were the one who wanted to fuck on your bike, and then in the hall—what, were you planning on stripping naked then, too?”

You’re rewarded with a very rare, very endearing blush. He sits back on his knees and rubs his neck, eyes dropping from yours—then his lip curls in a smirk. “With how wet you got, seems like you wanted me to. What—you like the idea of that? Getting fucked in public? Don’t worry, sweetheart, maybe we’ll try that one day…” He laughs at the way you squirm, but he’s not wrong; your cunt clenches at the thought.

“You’re such a dick.” Your hands reach for his belt, fumbling slightly as you try to undo it. Keisuke’s hands take over, getting rid of the black leather in seconds.

“Your dick,” he corrects, hands back on you, gently laying you back against his pillows, trailing over your now completely naked body, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. You roll your eyes but say nothing, heart in your throat, pussy pulsing in anticipation.

He straightens, taking in the display in front of him. Taking in you.

You sit up slightly, chewing your lower lip. He’s beautiful, but even more so in the moonlight. It illuminates his pale skin, almost making him glow in the darkness of the rest of his room. Obsidian hair falls in a straight sheet around his flushed cheeks, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Violet and red marks adorn his neck and chest. His abs flex when he watches the way your eyes trail down; down the inlet between them, down the stern jut of his prominent v-line, over the faint trail of dark hair that disappears into the band of his jeans.

His fingers—the ones just inside you—hover on the button. They’re covered in your slick, resting just above a bulge that looks absolutely delicious, one that you know he can’t wait to bury inside you—but still, he hesitates.

“I love you, Keisuke,” you say. He smiles. It’s the only further confirmation he needs before he’s pushing off the bed and pulling down his jeans and underwear in one go.

The others have lied about a lot—like Baji’s lack of virginity—but the size of Keisuke is not one of them.

Your jaw drops as you push to your knees, staring at Keisuke’s cock like it’s the first you’ve ever seen. It’s not, and technically speaking, it’s not even the first time you’ve seen his—but that time in the shower, when it was hanging heavily between his legs and you only caught a glimpse… apparently, that was him soft.

Keisuke hard is more impressive than any porn you’ve seen. So heavy that it can barely support its own weight, even with all the blood rushing through it, and so wide around even Keisuke, with his broad palms and lanky fingers, doesn’t dwarf it. 

A thick bead of pre slips out the tip, trailing along the bulging vein that disappears under Keisuke’s hand as he starts to stroke it.

“This… is where the others tapped out,” he says slowly, taking in the way you watch. “I mean—not that I’m thinking about them—but I just—“

“You’re big.”

Keisuke chokes on a laugh. “So I’ve heard. Pretty virgin like you wouldn’t know any better though, would you?”

You give him a withering glare. “I’ve sucked dick before, asshole. You’re big.”

Keisuke’s jaw clenches. “Yeah? Go on, then. Show me how you’ve sucked dick.”

Later, you’ll tease him for how jealous he got, and later, you’ll revel in the possessive way he determines to erase every other touch from your memory—but now, you obediently crawl towards him, one of your smaller hands overlapping his, and you take control.

You press a soft kiss to his flushed tip. It’s larger than your lips, his pre a salty gloss as you kiss again and again—Keisuke grips your hair. “Suck.”

It’s as much a plea as it is a command, one you can’t ignore. You take him,—just the tip—in your mouth, tongue swirling over his warm head as your hand replaces his on the rest of his dick. Your fingers barely touch, and no matter how you adjust, how you lay your palm or spread your fingers… there’s still at least an inch of him exposed.

He hisses, nearly drowning out the lewd, wet sound your pussy makes as it clenches around nothing.

“This—turning you on?” he says, as if his cock isn’t twitching obscenely against your tongue. “Fuckin—sucking on a big cock making you wet?”

You let go with a wet pop! and bat your eyelashes at him. You know exactly what you’re doing when you say, “No, Kei. I’m this wet ‘cause of you.”

With a groan, Keisuke pulls your head back to his dick and thrusts in, sliding as far as you’ll let him before you start to gag. “That’s—that’s it, sweetheart, get it nice and wet.”

He holds you there for a moment, waiting until you tap on his thigh before sliding out. Your eyes are teary, saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth. Deftly, you twist your wrist while catching your breath. His fingers go from knotting in your hair to petting the back of your head.

“You keep doing that, I’m gonna bust,” he warns, but his fond smile gives him away.

You merely smile. “Telling me you’ve never had your cock sucked, Kei?” 

His lip curls in a snarl, which disappears with a groan when you take him in your throat once more. Slowly, lips pursing around him, tongue flicking along the sensitive underside of his cockhead as you try going as far as you can. Your jaw is already starting to ache, but you’re determined to prove yourself.

“Not—like this,” he moans, pushing your head a little further down. Your lips split in a smile, and you raise your hand to start fondling his balls—a trick that’s always gotten you success before—but before you make contact, Keisuke is sliding out and grabbing your jaw. He’s breathing heavily, pupils blown out with lust. He stares at your lips then leans forward, not flinching at the taste of himself on you.

“Wanna fuck you now,” he mumbles. You wrap your arms around his neck and start to lean back, nodding.

“Want you to fuck me too,” you agree. One of Keisuke’s muscular thighs slides between your legs, easing them apart. He keeps kissing you, letting you fall softly against his pillows while he keeps stroking his member, slick with your spit.

He taps the tip of his cock against your clit. You hiss in surprise, eyes closing shut at the sudden sensation of pleasure that rushes through you. “Let me know if it hurts,” he says quietly. He grips his cock right beneath the head, guiding it through your slick folds, getting as much of your fluids on him as he can. 

He’s torn between needing to see the way you suck him in, and the need to squeeze his eyes shut. The sight of you alone, legs spread on either side, pussy gushing because of him, covering in marks because of him, mewling his name as you beg him to fuck you—it’s almost enough for him to cum on the spot. 

Faintly, honks echo from the street below. It’s amazing that in this instant, as your world is about to change forever and for the better, everyone else is going about their business like nothing’s happening. They’re catching a late-dinner with their partner; walking home from a late-night meeting that could’ve been an email; swinging by the grocer’s to pick up snacks and drinks to share with their friends… The whole world is continuing on, just beyond that window, but for you and Keisuke… it’s as if time’s stopped. 

The world is only real for the two of you.

He bends down to kiss you, making sure to pour every ounce of love and care he has into this one. You respond just as sweetly, reveling in the power of this moment, this one decision that will irrevocably tie you together forever, the way you were always meant to be.

He loves you, you love him, and there’s nothing else that matters.

“Ready?” he asks. You nod, then echo, “ready,” and he puts it in; just the tip, spearing past your tight hole. The two of you let out a synchronous gasp.

It’s even more than three of his fingers; warm, too, and thick, softer but also harder and full—you’re so, so, so full as he slowly edges in. It hurts—it feels good—it burns—you need more—

“Baby,” Keisuke pants. He’s let go of his cock, letting just the first inch or so rest comfortably within your walls. You feel him twitch, feel how tight his fingers dig into the sheets on either side of you so he doesn’t add more bruises to your ever-growing collection. “Baby, talk to me. Tell me—are you—are you okay?”

You whimper slightly when he sinks a little further. Eyes scrunching, your fingers digging into his thighs as you try to even your breath. “It—it’s so—“ you try saying, but it’s like you can feel him in your stomach, the pressure tightening all the way up your throat and cutting you off.

“So—good,” Keisuke gasps. He does the best he can, really, but you—you’re so—warm, and wet, and inviting—the place you’re joined might be the best thing he’s ever felt–ever seen. He slides a little further, presses a kiss to wherever he can reach as he waits until your chest stops heaving as horribly. He tries telling you he loves you, he really tries telling you how amazing you are, how perfect you are, how good you feel—but all that comes out are choked, half-sentences that fade into groans.

Tears prick at your lash line by the time he’s securely sheathed in you. Your fingers dig into his back, trying to pull him flush to your chest and bury his head in your neck so he can’t see. You know how he’ll feel; he’ll pull out and say he’s sorry, that he never meant to hurt you and it’s not worth it and he won’t try again–and that’s not what you want. You just need some time to adjust, that’s all. 

You never realized how empty you were.

Keisuke lifts up from the crook of your neck when the first tear slides against his cheek. “M’sorry,” he breathes, kissing one eye, then the other, licking the tear tracks and kissing you again. “M’sorry, I don’t wanna hurt—“ His arms shake on either side of you. The urge to start shifting his hips is sinful, but he doesn’t. He can’t, not until you're okay, not until you tell him it’s okay.

“It’s—okay,” you breathe. Your face says otherwise, but really… it’s okay. You play with the hair at the nape of his neck, offering him a little smile as you shift your hips ever-so-slightly against his. “I’m—I’m okay, baby, really. Just—just go slow.”

Keisuke kisses you. Slowly, deeply, spreading your lips with his as he gently pulls out and slides back in, heeding your directive to go slow. It hurts, it still hurts, is it supposed to hurt like this—but right when you’re about to give up, right when you’re about to tell him it's too much and maybe you should stop… it starts to feel good.

Not just full, but satisfying, bumping against the back of your messy cunt with every stroke. The ridge of his cockhead catches your insides in a way that makes your toes curl, and before long, your legs are wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Gods—fuck, Kei, fuck—“ you hiss, burying your head in his shoulder, biting his collarbone to keep yourself from screaming. “Just—there, like that, don’t—fuck—“

“Thought you said you were a virgin,” he hisses. Your broken pleas of, I am, I am, I am—go unrecognized as he slowly picks up speed. “Virgin pussy—heh—always feel this—fuckin’ good?”

You moan, loud and unreserved, nails digging into the muscle of his shoulders. Your stomach burns. Your pussy clenches, but for the first time, there’s finally something to hold on to, finally something to fill you up—you’ve never been so full, never felt so good. The coil tightens in your stomach, made all the more tense by the fact there’s something inside— “Gonna— gonna cum, Kei, don’t—don’t stop, please—“

“Yeah, sweetheart? You gonna—gonna cum for me? Go on, cum f’me. Cum on my cock, baby, show me what we’ve been—been waitin’ for—“

You cry when your orgasm finally washes over you.

You’ve never climaxed this powerfully before, to the point that you’ve felt like—this. The world is empty besides the two of you. Bells ring in your ear as you struggle to keep your eyes open, your whole body floating. You feel everything and nothing; like you’re weightless but have never been so heavy in your life.

You gasp for air, fingers digging into Keisuke’s shoulders as his hips stutter a few more times then still. His moans into your ear as his own orgasms consumes him, painting your insides white, shooting so much it drips out of your spent pussy and starts to puddle between you.

He stays there for a moment. Lets his lips trace lazy patterns beneath your ear, still half-hard inside you, one hand gripping the back of your neck and the other holding your breast. Even though you’re spent, your hands delicately trail up and down his spine. Your breathing is heavy and your smile bright and you think you could stay right here forever.

The plastic stars one his ceiling smile down at you, and you imagine the ones outside are doing the same. ‘About time!’ they seem to say. After all these years, about time. There’s a shrill whistle of bus brakes, screeching to a halt; a muffled shout from one pedestrian to another. The fan creaks slightly, the cool air washing over you and helping calm the raging fire on your skin. The clock on Keisuke’s lopsided nightstand, made even with a stack of textbooks he never got to put to use, beeps at midnight: the end of one day, the start of forever.

Kei takes a deep breath and slides off, hissing as his sensitive cock is exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. He lays on his back, taking a hand and placing it over his eyes as he tries to calm his racing heart.

Your legs are sticky. They’re already getting sore. Your hips ache, your spine stretches, your chest burns—but you relish it. Kei’s breathing evens beside you. 

Glancing, you check if he’s asleep—but with the way his forearm covers his eyes, you can’t tell. He looks even more like an angel now. Light, from a city just waking up, creeps past the curtains, illuminating slivers of his pale and flushed skin. He looks–relaxed. Content, even with the blush still coloring his high cheeks bones. His lips are parted, shallow gasps of air being sucked through them, but the longer you look, the more it looks like they’re curling in a smile.

His chest rises and falls steadily, and just when you start to think he might actually be asleep, the hand beneath your neck starts playing with your hair.

“Think it’s—always this good?” he asks breathlessly, pulling you in a little closer.

You pretend to think. He tilts his head, cracking an eye to look down at you curiously. You smile. “I don’t know. Think we better try again—y’know, just to be sure.”

Kei barks out a laugh and pulls you to his chest, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. And right now, with the gentle light filtering through his open window, sweaty and smiling and with his cum dripping from between your legs to make a mess of his thigh, you are.

You play with the edges of his hair, sprawled lazily across his sweaty forehead. With a soft smile, he reaches for your fingers and pulls them to his lips. “Do you actually like it? My haircut, I mean. Pretty sure you liked the other stuff.”

You answer with a laugh, pressing a kiss to where the edges fall. “I love it.”

He grins and rolls over, pinning you to the mattress. The short locks make a curtain, hiding the two of you from anything but each other. “Good. Did it f’you.”

“For me?”

He hums and buries his face in your neck, delicately kissing the bruising skin. “Noticed your type. None of them had long hair, ’n I thought…”

With a pealing laugh, you grab his cheeks and bring his face to yours, smothering him with kisses. “Keisuke, you are such an idiot.”

He pretends to frown, but kisses you all the same. “Weren’t calling me that when I was making you scream earlier.”

“Kei,” you say, forcing him back so you can really meet his eyes, “short hair, long hair. No hair. The only kind of guy I’ve ever truly wanted has been you.”

Keisuke blinks. Short, thick lashes bat against those endlessly high cheekbones of his, and then he smiles. He lowers his lips to yours once more and gifts you a kiss; deep, slow. A kiss that’s been years in the making, that says all that your words have and then some.

“I love you,” he says, and you barely have time to say the same before he’s kissing you, hardening cock easily gliding back through your sticky folds, and you go for round two.

So... happy adventuring :) thank you for reading! if you made it this far… pls reblog, drop a comment, or leave an ask if you enjoyed!! I worked really, really hard on this, and it would mean the absolute world to me that, if y’all enjoyed it, you told me why. if you hated it, tell me why. if i made you cry or scream or fall in love or fierce fiercely full of disappointed rage, tell me why!! i won’t bite (unless you ask)!

hopefully the next adventure gets even better. thanks for reading!

[strqyr]

you most likely talked about this, but given that in Beacon, teams are also separated into duos of partners (ruby&weiss, blake&yang), who do you think got partnered up in STRQ? (assuming that this buddy system was already in place during STRQ days)

i know i'm going against the tide with this one, but: summer & taiyang, raven & qrow. for few reasons.

one: the boy meets the warrior in a forest, and says he fell for her the moment he saw her silver eyes <- this is a story tai relates to, and eye contact is beacon's manner of forming partnerships.

two: as fun as all the "qrow's semblance gets in the way of him partnering with raven" scenarios are, i really don't think there's anything that would get in the way if raven wanted to partner with qrow (which i think she would) + qrow, who thinks his semblance makes it difficult to be near his family, would likely see partnering with raven more as a bad luck than he would partnering with some stranger.

and three, and this is what it really comes down, for me: i really do think the emotional core within strq is summer reuniting with tai, and raven reuniting with qrow. like the twins smiling at each other in the epilogue? that's the emotional goodness right there after everything they've been through; the disagreements, the fights, "we're not family anymore"s, learning the truth, finally reaching some sort of an understanding, to standing side-by-side once again.

and while there's less for summer and tai, they still included that scene in the flashback. they could have had summer sneak out with tai none the wiser, but they didn't; instead, summer promised she'd be back soon, and tai answers with a resolute "i know" (and he's still waiting, hoping against hope for her to return) ("no, come back!" <- when ruby's message gets cut short at the worst possible moment, tai's reliving the past right there).

idk really how to explain it, but there's this general feeling too that's like... if i had to split strq in two halves, summer & tai / raven & qrow makes the most sense to me. like, that's where the story is, not to say there isn't any story between anyone else, but especially qrow is like. who else do you partner him with? he doesn't really have anything to do with summer or tai emotionally story-wise, so if partnership is meant to be this Special Bond between two people, with what the show has presented us with, that really just leaves raven.

then there's also the fact that summer & tai went on oh-gods-another-patrol missions ("i think he misses adventuring with you." t. ruby rose) while raven & qrow went on spy missions (probably not on same ones, but i bet they still communicated what they were up to bc that's what intelligence gathering kind of requires). would ozpin separate partners like that? who knows. maybe? would be kind of rude though lmao

...it also makes the naming convention of RW | BY and ST | RQ the same, which doesn't necessarily prove anything, rather it's just a neat little bonus on top :)

(this got longer than i thought lol apologies for rambling OTL)

[idontplaytrack]

Can I request lilette x reader where reader is Robbies sister and lilette and her have to like sneak around bc they don't want him to find out about their relationship

Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?

Lilette Suarez x fem! reader

Warnings: angst, coarse language, closeted reader, implied homophobia, anxiety, mentions & description of death, make-out & smut. Very long fic ahead.

In which, you’ve got a secret to keep from your brother— the only who knew you as well as you did yourself. And you were terrified.

“Okay, I’ll see you for dinner tonight. Can’t wait.” You smiled.

“Me too.” Lilette says, your phone was held between your shoulder and ear while you went around the apartment tidying up. “See you soon, babe.”

“Bye.” You said and hung up. Robbie comes home. “Hi, sissy.” He greets you with a bright smile. In a panic, your phone just flies from your hand and falls onto the couch, thankfully. “Hey, how was practice?”

“Good, but tiring.” He tells you, “How’s your day been? What have you been up to for the past couple hours?”

“Uh, well.” You started, “I got home from school at 3:30. Did my homework, got a snack and now I’m just watching a bit of TV while scrolling through my phone.”

“Very chill.”

You shrug, “Hey, I would hate to bother you but could you give me a ride to the diner at like 7? I’m meeting Lilette there to work on a project.”

“The diner at seven? Yeah, sure. No problem.” He agrees quickly. That was partial lie— you weren’t there to work on a project, you were there for your bi-weekly dinner date. Though yes, you have been paired up with Lilette for a project. You guys just didn’t need to work on that right away.

While he went ahead to take a shower, you laid on the couch reading a book to pass the time till you had to go get ready. Well, you also had to wait until Robbie was out of earshot to leave Lilette a voice message. You called her ‘babe’ usually, so, that’s why. Lilette was currently working her shift— she went to work directly after school and would be right there to meet you for dinner that evening.

You put your phone up to your ear to listen to her reply, “I miss you too, cookie. All yours tonight.” You couldn’t help but laugh. She’s always called you by that nickname— Lilette claims it was because you were ‘obsessed with cookies’. And at first you thought she was calling you like, crazy, kookie. But she was horrified by that assumption and immediately told you otherwise. But ���all yours tonight’…that got you a little excited. Maybe a little too much.

You set an alarm to remind you to get ready in time. After reading some pages of your book in hand, you dozed off. When you woke up again, it was right before your alarm went off. So, you turned the alarm off and went to get ready. “What time will you want me to pick you up?”

“Uh, I’m not sure.” You admitted. “I’ll keep you updated?”

“Okay, yeah. Don’t forget otherwise— how are you gonna get home?” He jokes.

“Probably walk.”

“When have I ever let you walk alone. After sundown?” He chuckles, “If you’ll be out late, call me. I don’t care how late it is, I just want you to be safe.”

“You know we’re the same age, right?” You bit back a laugh, checking your hair in the mirror by the front door.

“I’m still older.” Robbie retorts.

“Whatever.” You shoved him playfully.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.” He nudged you towards the open front door.

You got into the front passenger’s seat as per usual, he puts on his playlist and started to drive. It was a pretty quiet ride to the dinner, so your mind just wandered for the duration of it. Thinking about your Dad, how both yours and Robbie’s relationship was great but they constantly clashed. You hated that they yelled so much, it scared you. Unlike Robbie, your Dad never apologises for raising his voice. Instead, his way of an apology was quietly stocking the fridge with your favourite fruit or the pantry with your favourite snack. Sometimes, just sometimes…he’d take you to go get ice cream. You liked that way the best because you actually got to spend time with him. He liked spending time with you, but he wad almost always too focused on Robbie. How Robbie was doing at his sport, were his grades okay, are rehearsals going well, will they interfere with practice? You couldn’t blame him. Either of them, actually.

Robbie was the boy, the wished-for child, of course he was favoured. Your Mom however, you were her favourite— she always joked about this to make you smile. But now, you rarely saw her. But only because it physically hurt you to see her so sick. You were always thinking about her as much as you wished that that wasn’t the case…thinking and wondering how much time she had left. With you.

Lilette was no doubt the nicest person you’ve ever met. She was such a sweetheart. You didn’t have a lot of friends— you liked it that way, keeping your circle small. Lilette was your closest friend. Now, you were dating her. And have been for the past four months. There wasn’t actually a specific moment the two of you declared that you two were in an exclusive relationship, it just naturally happened evolved time. Everything felt comfortable with her, with her you felt like you had no worries, no fears, no nothing. You simply felt like you were in a little bubble of safety and so much love.

————

“You alright?” Robbie’s voice and the vehicle coming to a stop, snaps you out of your thoughts.

You cleared you throat, “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.”

“Hey, just enjoy yourself tonight, alright? Don’t worry about Dad, don’t worry about Mom. I’m on my way to go see Mom— we’ll go together tomorrow too, okay? The two of us. She’s okay.”

“Okay.” You agreed with a nod.

“Okay.” He says, “Go on, have a good time. Remember to update me what time you want me to pick you up later and where.”

“I will.” You tell him before getting out of the car. As you entered the diner, you turned to look over your shoulder and he waves. You wave back, stepping into the diner. He drives off seeing that.

Once inside, you see Lilette walking out from the back, her hair down and wearing a flannel and her favourite pair of jeans. Her gaze finds yours and her face lights up. Lilette nearly squeals, rushing over to give you a hug. “Hi!”

“Hi.” You said with a smile, mutually breaking away a few seconds later so you two could sit down. Quickly placing your orders, Lilette started chatting with you. “What’ve you been up to since I last saw you at school?”

“I got home, did my homework, read a book then fell asleep.” You nearly snorted, “How was work?”

“It was good, actually.” Lilette says, “Better than yesterday, thank goodness. No rude customers today.”

“Good.”

“Can I…ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod, seeing from the corner of your eye that a waiter was walking towards the booth with your food.

“Would you…want to go somewhere private after we’re done here?” She asks shyly, a deep red dusting her cheeks.

You nearly drop your fork, blinking profusely while looking at her, “Uh— you mean like get…

“A room?” She completes your sentence, nodding her head.

“Actually.” You swallowed your mouthful of your sandwich— your eyes…they were just fixed on her, tracing her features with your gaze, “Yes. Sure.”

Thank God Lilette's mom wasn't on this shift so she wasn't anywhere near here.

————

And so you and Lilette ended up getting a room at a cheap hotel nearby, paid for in cash. She had her arm around you and you were already beginning to fantasise…feeling a certain rush of something going down south. Shit.

“Oh, my God.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I have to text Robbie and let him know he doesn’t need to pick me up.” You realised, rummaging through your pocket for your phone.

“Oh.” She laughs, gently pushing you onto the mattress. You sat down, shooting your brother a text to tell him that you were going to be spending the night with Lilette— you did not however, tell him where. You put your phone aside, focusing on Lilette again. “All good?”

“Yeah.”

She shifted closer to you, barely a couple of inches away from your face. You feel her fingertips on your face as she brushes the stray hairs out of your face to get a clear view. Her hand settles on your cheek, cupping it and she leans in pressing a gentle little kiss to your lips. Lilette does it a few times over before the connection deepens. The kisses became heated and wet, lingering for longer and longer each time. You eventually fell on your back, Lilette went along with it but was careful of how she moved around. Her hand rested on your chest, just shy of your breasts below. She smiled, eyes opening to look at you for a second.

“Are you sure you want to?” She asks, breaking away from the kiss. Her eyes study your face. You nodded eagerly, kissing her back first. “Have you ever done this before?” She asks, voice muffled by your constant kisses.

“No.” You hummed, feeling her knees bracketing you on either side.

“It’s okay, me neither.” She reveals, pressing her first kiss along your jaw. Then, her lips were kissing a trail down your neck, trying to learn what it did— to you and for you. You whine when she kisses a specific spot, she does it again, and again, then harder. Your whine increases in pitch, you feel your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment.

“It’s alright, cutie.” She assured, thumb brushing over your cheekbone, “It’s alright, you don’t have to be quiet.”

Through your breathlessness, you nod, agreeing to what she’d just told you. Then, she started back up again. Kissing that one sensitive area on your neck to keep drawing out those noises and build up your arousal. She’s learnt about something you liked and decided to keep to it. No complaints, though— you were going in blind and absolutely loving it so far.

You feel her hand caressing your hip, over the area that was the waistband of your pants. Your breathing hitches, wondering what she’d do next. "Can I take them off?" She asks you in a quiet voice. All you could manage was a nod, it was as though you didn't know a single word anymore. With that, your pants and underwear were slid off by Lilette. Her eyes meet yours to ask, "Are you comfortable? With me hovering over you like this? Or would you rather...kind of just sit and lean back?"

You took a deep breath and swallowed your spit harshly, "Maybe— maybe we try this first."

"Okay." Lilette smiles sweetly, lips reattaching to the spot on your neck.

"Mm— my God—" You panted.

"So that's good?" She questioned, breath tickling you.

You confirmed, "Mm— mhm, yeah." She tries something she hasn't done to you yet: her teeth grazes your skin just ever so lightly to see how it made you feel. "How's that?"

You shook your head, "No."

Humming, she resumes working on the spot on your neck. She sucked harder and harder over time, you were eventually left with a pretty obvious mark over it. Her hand begins moving down south, stopping just before the mound. "Do you want me to try?" She inquires seriously, her eyes filled with concern— as were her words.

"Yes." You told her, looking at her too, "Yeah."

She moves slowly, fingertips circling the overheating and swollen bundle of nerves between your legs. You whimper, she watches you, you look back at her. It made you grow shy, cheeks blushing as you averted your eyes from hers very briefly. When you grew louder and wetter, she decisively picks up her pace. You feel a finger ghost your entrance and you flinch, then was clenching around nothing. "I'm gonna try, okay, baby?"

Shit, that petname. She's never used that before on you. Oh, boy...

You whined needily at the new petname, giving her an affirming nod to slip a finger inside. As wet as you were you felt every bit of this completely new sensation, it reflexively makes you taking in a deep breath and lift your hips a little. Then, it was as if all of that ignited something in Lilette: she begins moving her finger in and out of you, at the same time, she kisses you...peppering kisses all over your face and down to your chest. She discovers a few other sensitive spots she could take note of for future purposes, too. You feel the tip of a second finger at your entrance several minutes later, and you let her try adding on to the first. But quickly, you learnt that you would rather she didn't do that. It hurt. "Ow!" You cried out as if on reflex from what you were feeling. Lilette removes her finger from you, the second one retracts too.

"Oh, I'm so sorry baby." She says a little scared by how you were affected by it, though a bit apprehensive, her hands found their way to your inner thighs as she sat down between your legs. "Do you want to stop?"

You shook your head 'no'. Her hands then started to massage that erogeneous zone, you relaxed, telling it was okay, "No, no it's not your fault. I'm alright, okay? I promise. We can keep going." Lilette nods her head, kneeling then smoothly bending down towards your cunt. You saw what she was trying to do, "Oh, fuck. Yes, go for it." Your bluntness had her shooting you a look of bewilderment but she quickly recovers and started using her tongue to stimulate your clit. They were slow and almost a little hesitant at first, but you moaned feeling the sheer closeness of you and Lilette. Her being so careful and loving, telling you that you looked beautiful. You were on cloud nine hearing her practically worshipping your body. That was all she needed to gain the confidence and momentum to keep going, picking up her pace gradually to allow for build up of arousal and pleasure.

“Feel good?”

“Fuck— fuck— so good.” You breathed out shakily, voice almost strained. You were clenching your fists and licking your lips, unsure what to do with your hands. However, your natural instinct was to run a hand through her hair and without any thought, that’s what you did. A smile forms on her face, and yours, seeing her happy.

Lilette contently ate you out until she felt you throbbing against her tongue. With her brows raised slightly, she pulls herself away from your cunt to look at it. “Oh, baby.” Her hands massaged your inner thighs again, “So pretty. So, so pretty~” Her eyes flicked up, catching your gaze. It makes you squirm out of frustration, though you weren’t exactly sure why you were feeling that way. Her thumb rubs your clit and you back away just slightly, a whimper falls from your lips as your head rolls back. She decides to test something— she rubs your clit again. You whimper. The back of her fingertips ghosts your clit. You whine. Grinning to herself, she got back to rubbing your clit consistently all while feeling the throbbing intensify and watching you begin clenching.

“Oh God—” You breathe in deeply, the fluttering in your core stops and spreads immensely, “Oh. God! Shit. Lilette, fuck— oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” Each exclamation came out in a pant, with you whining through the whole thing.

Lilette slows down progressively to help you come down from your climax and then detaches her mouth from you once you started to seem more relaxed. She scooched upwards to sit right by you, her palm rests on your abdomen, stroking it, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, and felt a sudden urge to burst into tears. You don’t know if it was the realisation of the whole act of having sex, or it specifically because of the intensity of your climax, but the urge…was strong. Too strong. Lilette repositioned herself and was laying on her stomach while face to face with you. You licked your lips and pursed them together. It quivered anyway, and Lilette brushes her thumb over your cheek watching you with worried eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You managed. “Nothing. I promise.”

“It’s okay.” She squeezes your cheek slightly, “It’s okay, I’m right here with you. Cry if that’s what your body feels like doing.” The feeling was dying down until she said it, then the waterworks began with virtually no warning. She guides you onto your side to hold you in her arms and rub your back to soothe you. “You’re alright, hm? I promise.” She said softly, planting a kiss on your shoulder, “You did good.”

————

Early the next morning, you and Lilette were getting ready to leave the hotel and go back to the diner for breakfast. Holding onto the wall to steady yourself while you put your pants on, an obscene noise startles you and you cringe.

“Oh, geez.” Lilette realises too, “Bit early, huh.”

You moved away from the wall and finished getting dressed. Once freshened up, you two checked the room to make sure you didn’t leave anything behind. Lilette was holding onto your hand, fingers intertwined together. But you were a step ahead, pushing the door open you step outside first. “Robbie’s picking you up from the diner at 7:30, yes?” You confirmed with a nod of your head. Looking left and right on reflex but locking eyes with none other than your father. You tried pushing Lilette back into the room but he saw you immediately. Someone was with him— someone familiar but you couldn’t see their face.

Your feet were rooted to the carpeted floors out of total fear. “My Dad.” You turned your head to whisper quickly. Lilette successfully pulls you back into the room but he was too fast, coming face to face with you and Lilette. “Why aren’t you at home?” He bellowed. You flinch, backing up against Lilette. A cry was caught in your throat.

He yells at you until you all leave the hotel, following you around right beside you.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Who is this?’

‘Why aren’t you home?’

‘Does your brother know about this?’

You started to zone out, your heart was slamming in your chest as the sound pounded through your ears. Your breathing…it quickened to the point where you couldn’t feel much of anything going into your system. Behind his shoulder, a car driving by catches your eyes. Robbie. You ran, Lilette ran with you as you desperately waved to catch his attention so he could stop. “ROB!” You screeched.

“You’re screwing with my mother and you don’t know who I am?!” You hear a voice behind you yelling right as Robbie slows down his car to a stop, “You’ve met me multiple times. I’m your daughter’s best friend.” Seeing how upset and flustered you were, he quickly unlocks the doors so you could get in.

“Fuck you.” Lilette spat, her words filled with venom. You’ve never seen her so angry.

That. That was why your father didn’t chase after you anymore. He got caught too— it was becoming a complete shit show in this driveway. Your father looked at Robbie, as though trying to apologise, but he was gripping at the wheel so tightly that his knuckles became pale. Next thing he did? He drives away. So fast.

————

The car ride was silent, but the tension was high. None of you knew what to say. But you feel a sickening feeling bubbling in your stomach. “Pull over.” You spoke up. Sensing your tone, he does so immediately. You opened the door and leaned over the grass patch to throw up. Lilette rubs your back, obviously worried and startled by how abrupt it was. But, she had an inkling why you were like that.

By the time the three of you arrived at the diner, you had calmed down. Or so you thought. Your mind was still racing, trying to piece together an explanation for your brother. You didn’t want him to be mad at you as well.

“Rob—” You sniffled. “Don’t be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you. That’s the last thing I’ll be feeling. I saw enough to know who to be mad at.” Robbie assured, “Did he hit either of you?”

“No.” Lilette answers, “I almost kicked him in the crotch, but I didn’t.” You shook your head.

You knew he was waiting for a full rundown of the events, and you were going to tell him— despite how terrifying it was. “After we had dinner, we went to the hotel and spent the night. Because—” You stopped yourself, “We wanted…privacy. That’s why I said you didn’t have to pick me up last night. Everything went fine until we heard people going at it in the room next to us this morning. We leave the room to check out, it was Dad he started tailing me demanding an explanation as to why I was there. Couldn’t tell him— nothing came out of my mouth. I almost passed out in front of the hotel.”

“So that’s when I drove by and you stopped my car?”

“Yeah. And while I was making my way to the car, Lilette was screaming behind me. That’s why he stopped chasing us. He got caught too.”

“With my mother.” Lilette adds on.

“Can you not tell Mom, please? A-about me and Lilette.” You requested quietly, feeling the tears pricking at your eyes.

“Hey, you have my word, okay? I’m not gonna tell mom or anyone. You’re old enough to make your own decisions.” He promised. “I’m just…glad it’s Lilette and not that creepy chess club guy that tried to take you to the dance last time.”

You chuckled at the memory, “Thanks.”

“Okay, eat your breakfast. Don’t worry about Dad, I’ll handle him.”

“But— where can we go? What if he gets violent? We can’t stay at Lilette’s either.”

“I’ll take you two to go spend time with Mom. Alright? Stay there until I come and get you— we’ll figure something out if the time gets too late. But you should be okay, the staff knows us. They’ll let you guys stay longer.”

“Okay.” You agreed. Lilette holds your hand, brushing her thumb over your knuckles. Breakfast went by uneventfully, then the three of you were on your way to your Mom. Though it was early, your Mom was awake, smiling so brightly at the sight of you. You let go of Lilette’s hand and rushed to her side, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Hi, mama.”

“Good morning, ladybug.” Your Mom says back, caressing your cheek weakly, “Who’s that pretty girl you came in with?”

Oh, right.

You looked over your shoulder, silently asking Lilette to approach. She walks over. “Hi, Mrs. Thorne.”

Your Mom laughs breathily. “Too formal. Rhea.”

“This is Lilette, remember her? My best friend.”

Your Mom sighs, “Of course. Oh, goodness. I’m sorry, sweetheart. My memory’s all over the place. I used to call you little lily.”

“That’s right.” Lilette cracks a smile.

“Lilette’s my girlfriend now, mama.” You revealed.

“Oh, that’s so great.” Your Mom gasps softly, “I’m so happy for you, ladybug. I’m so happy you found love in your best friend.”

That was it, you were crying like a baby having received your Mom’s blessings. Lilette pulls a chair closer for you to sit, no— fall back on. She rubs your back and held you close while she stood. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Please don’t cry. Mommy’s happy for you, don’t you worry about things like that. I love you. You’re my baby.”

“Thank you, mama.” You swallowed your tears, “Thank you, I love you so much, mama.”

You and Lilette stayed with your Mom for hours, chatting and laughing. You wanted her to sleep and get some rest since she’s been up for awhile, but she refuses and there was no fighting her. So you just let her stay up. “Hi, y/n. Good to see you here again.” A nurse who recognised you came by to check on your Mom.

“Hi, Iris.” You gave her a smile.

“Oh, who’s this?” She asks, curious.

“That’s Lilette. Her girlfriend.” Your Mom answered before you did.

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Iris sighs, “Young love is beautiful.”

Once Iris leaves, you told your Mom, “Dad doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t even come by. He doesn’t need to know anything.” You mom tells you calmly, “What matters is you’re safe, healthy and happy. How’s school for you?”

“Very good.” You reply, Lilette nodded too. “Great friends, teachers are great too. My grades are good. I got a 95% on my last quiz.”

“That’s my girl.” Your Mom praised, “I’m so proud of you.”

Lilette couldn’t help but smile seeing you and your Mom interact. The love was so, so apparent. “Robbie’s coming later.” Your Mom says.

“I know, Mama. I know. He dropped us off, he just has to go run some errands.”

You could never tell your mom what your dad’s done. You couldn’t do that to her. She didn’t need any of that right now. She was on her literal deathbed.

“Thank you for coming to see me. Both of you. It’s so nice to have you both here.”

“Of course, mama. I’ll always make the time to come see you.”

Robbie came to the hospice in the evening. Lilette taps him on the shoulder once and he flinched, seething. Uh oh.

“Robbie, hi, baby.” Your Mom’s face lit up again just like when she saw you.

“Hi, ma. Here I am.” Robbie chuckles, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Your sister said you had to run some errands.” Your mom mentioned, almost suspiciously but also with an undertone of worry.

“Uh, everything’s fine. Dad’s just being difficult.”

“Don’t let him affect you. Focus on yourselves, that old man can take care of himself.” She says, “I’m serious. You all are graduating high school this year and going off to college, working next…whatever. Life’s gotta keep going, don’t let stuff like that hold you back.”

What?

“Take care of yourselves. You can’t rely on your Dad. You, take good care of my daughter.” She looks at Lilette at that moment. “I promise.” Lilette answered seriously. “Good.” Your mom smiles.

“Mama.” You mumbled. Holding onto her hand, you looked at her— incredibly worried. You couldn’t shake this feeling once you’d heard all of that. She squeezes your hand and gave you a smile. You didn’t say much of anything else for the rest of the night. The three of you decided to hang around for way longer even though your Mom initially wanted you all to go home and get some sleep. You just couldn’t leave her.

“Kids.” Your Mom says breaking the silence and looking away from the TV screen. The three of you focused on her, she sighs. “Remember to take good care of yourselves. Always stand up for what’s right. Don’t ever change yourselves for others. Remember I love all of you and will always be around in whatever way possible. Don’t worry about me. I know I do not have to worry about you kids. Don’t worry about college, both of you. Lilette, thank you for making my baby girl so happy.”

“Ma—”

“What—” Robbie paused the the movie. Ghostbusters. You guys watched this all the time at home.

“I have to go, okay? Mommy’s tired, I’m very sorry. I’ll be back. Every time you see you a sunset, I’ll be there.”

Tears streamed down your face as the realisation hit and denial went away. You clung onto her hand for dear life, as did Robbie. Lilette had her arm around you. Suddenly, everything felt like they were going in slow motion.

Your Mom’s gaze looking between the three of you.

Her smiling, her eyes welling up with tears.

You hear Robbie trying to hold it together but quickly failed, choking on a quiet sob. Lilette was breathing heavily beside you, sniffling.

Your mom’s eyes, her eyelids begin to droop.

The sound of the heartrate monitor going lower and lower, slower and slower.

Then, the flatline. It echoed, her eyes closed. Her hands, let go. You went limp in Lilette’s embrace, but you were soon escorted out by a nurse. Lilette hugs you, and since you were facing the direction of your mom’s bed you could see them drape a blanket over her to cover her up. You were a mess, tears soaking her shirt, mumbling incoherently as you cried.

Lilette was speechless. Nothing she says would be right. So she just held you to keep you steady. Robbie tries to get you both to leave but you resisted, not wanting to leave your mom.

“y/n, let’s go. Mom said to take care of ourselves.” Robbie says quietly, hand on your shoulder. “Let mom rest. She’s been fighting for a long time.”

“I’m sorry.” You murmured.

“Don’t be sorry, let’s go.“

————

Once home, it was another fight. A very angry father was waiting for your return. “What are you crying about?” He snarked.

“Mom died.”

“Mom’s fine.”

“She died.” Robbie repeated, “Took her last breath right in front of us. She’s been there for such a long time and you haven’t seen her more than three times. Leave y/n alone, leave Lilette alone. If you think it’s right to get mad at your daughter for being herself, I get why you’d think it’s acceptable to cheat on your dying wife. You are a sick bastard.”

Your Dad swung on Robbie, but Robbie was agile, he successfully defended himself by dodging and your Dad’s fist slams into the wall. “Why didn’t they call?!”

“Ask yourself that. Ask yourself when the last time you saw her was. Even Lilette’s been there more than you have. Her name’s always in the visitor log. Ask yourself why felt that it was okay for her to go, without you around.” Robbie responded lowly, his whole frame trembling with anger. “You know what? It’s no use talking to you. You need to leave the house and never come back.”

“How dare you ask your father to leave his house!”

“This is mom’s house. And now, it’s mine. Mom left it to me. She left you nothing. She may have been very sick, but she was more clear-headed than you have been.” Robbie continues. “LEAVE!”

You all watched him leave, finally defeated. “Burn in hell.” He says as the door slammed.

“Go to bed.” Robbie urged, “It’s late.”

You gave in, Lilette heads up to your room with you.

“Good night. I’ll be up with you in a minute.” Robbie says softly. Entering your room, Lilette shuts the door behind the both of you and turned the lock. She picks out a change of clothes for you and herself then handed your stack to you. Till now, not a word’s been said yet. You got changed, so did Lilette. She took your clothes and tossed them in the hamper before pulling your covers off the bed enough so you could get in comfortably. Lilette knew you were hurting and grieving. It didn’t take a genius to know that, but there was hell of a lot more going on. You needed her and she knew it.

“I love you.” She holds you tightly, both arms wrapped around you. You laid on her chest, trying to empty your head and focus on the steady beat of her heart. Lilette stroked your hair to lull you to sleep, eventually she resorted to singing. The door, having been unlocked by Lilette righr before you both got into bed…creaked. It opens up, you hear Robbie’s voice. Indistinctly.

“I got her, go rest.” Lilette tells him, “You’d better keep a close eye on your shoulder. If it gets worse, get it checked out.”

“I will.” Robbie says, “G’night.”

“Night.”

Robbie exits, closing the door again. “I’m sad.” You mumbled. “I know, honey. That’s okay. Let it out, I got you baby. You’ll be okay.”

“I’ll be okay.” You repeated while she rubs your back and pressed kisses to your head every now and then, “Thank you. For being here for me. Always.”

“And forever.”

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @reneeswif3 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

[funnywormz]

Did we ever get that rimmer gender analysis you promised us 🥺🥺🥺 if we did I missed it and I'm so sad and crying

I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK ME LIKE A WEEK TO ANSWER THIS ANON.......i can't quite remember, i think i may have done a small post abt it but it wasn't as detailed as i wanted??? sorry my memory for most stuff is pretty awful rip........

since i'm thinking abt it again now i will put a little rimmer gender ramble under the cut!! it's kinda repeating stuff that i've said in other posts but it's how i feel abt him and his identity, i hope you like it!!!! apologies if it doesn't make sense my brain has been full of sludge lately

OK SO. i think that masculinity has always been a very important part of rimmer's life, but a very toxic form of it. it's clear that his parents prioritised his brothers over him partly because they embodied more traditionally masculine traits, like confidence and physical strength. growing up, rimmer got the message from his parents that to be masculine was to be admired and loved. his parents abused him, and his brothers bullied him, and i think that although rimmer resents them for it he also sees it as being his fault?

i think it's because of this pressure he felt to be gender conforming growing up, that he feels he needs to force himself into some kind of macho man role. he fails at it miserably, and it's obviously not his true self, but he tries to keep it up because at his root, rimmer really does just want to be loved. growing up his parents showed him that their love was conditional, and he assumes everyone else is that way too, so he tries to shape himself into someone he thinks is lovable. unfortunately it only leads to unhappiness for everyone involved bc he's obviously putting up a front but he resents anyone who tries to pry it away.

rimmer's attempts at masculinity are clearly ridiculous, to the point where the show makes fun of him for it too. he's a coward, he's very petty and picky, the show takes every opportunity it can to have him crossdress, and it's sort of a running joke that lister's dick is bigger than his. to anyone around him, it's pretty clear that rimmer is often trying to pretend that he's someone he's not, and the show makes it a comedic thing a lot of the time.

rimmer doesn't know it's obvious, though. he's certainly not good at reading or understanding other people (i also heavily hc him as autistic but that's a post for another day), and i think a lot of the time he assumes he's successfully fooling everyone when he isn't. rimmer also has a longstanding habit of lying and then doubling down when he gets caught in the lie, even if it involves him doing something he finds unpleasant. i think his gender is one of those cases. his attempts at masculinity are "lies", but when that's pointed out to him he refuses to admit it even when it's clear he's putting up a front. admitting that he's not masculine would be, in his mind, admitting that he isn't worth his parents' (or anyone else's) love, and he can't stand that thought.

it's pretty telling, though, that whenever rimmer's inhibitions are removed or part of his hidden inner self is revealed, it's often feminine. when rimmer was infected with the holovirus, it seems like practically the first thing he did was put a dress on. wearing gingham dresses is NOT a universal holovirus thing. dr langstrom definitely wasn't wearing one. that's a RIMMER thing.

when the crew meet the "low" versions of themselves in demons and angels, while all of the other characters get relatively generic "evil" versions of themselves, low rimmer is basically wearing sexy lingerie with a dominatrix look and openly flirts with lister. considering that the lows are all meant to express the parts of the characters that they hate or view as the worst parts of themselves, i think it's a very direct (albeit unintentional?) way of showing rimmer's internalised homophobia and transphobia towards himself.

it's ALSO telling that rimmer specifically accuses ace of doing both gay and feminine things, like "wearing women's underwear" and "whipping the house boy". after all, ace IS rimmer. rimmer resents ace for being a better version of himself, and the most cutting insults he can think of for HIMSELF are insinuating that ace is gnc. stinks of projection to me. i think kryten agreed too, in dimension jump he almost seems to point out that rimmer is projecting before he's interrupted.

for most of the series, rimmer is, to me, someone who is miserable abt being potentially queer and is attempting to suppress it. however, the promised land changes this.

in the promised land, rimmer initially resents his status as a hologram, but by the end of the movie he wears it as a badge of pride. likewise, his hero-sona the "mighty light" is kinda campy, he's wearing sparkly tight fitting clothes with expertly styled hair and all. you could definitely read the promised land's rimmer arc as a metaphor for him accepting himself for being queer, but i would argue there's a self acceptance there that goes deeper. perhaps he's finally accepted that he can be admired AND be more feminine. it's not a big step forward but it's SOMETHING.

rimmer's identity as a hologram is also something tpl reckons with. rimmer fully grapples with realising that his "true" self is dead, that he isn't "real". i think that gender could be a part of it. the movie doesn't touch on it at ALL, to be clear, but as rimmer learns to be confident in who he is now and embrace his status as a hologram, i can't help but feel that his connection to strict gender roles must have also lessened. after all, gender and sex are very human concepts, and he isn't human anymore. being a hologram, he could change his body and voice any time he wanted (or at least any time holly felt like being nice lol). him being a man seems sorta irrelevant in that context. he's out in the middle of space with the last human being left alive. i don't think that a strong sense of gender identity could even really be possible for him when he's so isolated from the world that invented those things, and when he has the ability to play around with it so easily.

this last part is definitely projection, but i just feel like being a hologram has gotta eventually lead to a more nonbinary identity. so much of what we consider sex and gender to be is tied up in our perceptions and interactions and what we feel is expected of us. rimmer doesn't have that anymore. human society is gone, he isn't even human himself........ his parents are dead, too. why should he keep on playing this charade with himself that he doesn't even believe in?

i'm not necessarily sure that canon rimmer would have the self reflection abilities to realise any of this stuff, but in my mind he becomes more comfortable with being nonbinary and queer after tpl. it feels like a natural progression from accepting his status as a hologram to accepting the other parts of himself he used to hate, y’know?

ANYWAYS, i think that's all i can really say on the topic at the moment. this post isn't really an analysis, more of a word vomit about my personal headcanons and things i've noticed. still, i hope you enjoyed reading it and knowing my thoughts about the Rimmer Gender Situation lol. if anyone wants to add anything feel free, but please be nice

[theholypeanut]

HELLO.

I don't know if you can write this but

I want to request a Akashi x Reader thing like like kien hahvahsbs (THIS IS A FIRST TIME U REQUEST FROM YOU)

The reader is Akashi's best friends since children but sadly they went to another country bc of family business and stuff. Years later they found each other and hugged after a long time ongomgogm

Am so sorry if this is such a struggle 😭😭

I love how my blog is technically also about KNB not somehow I never wrote anything only Kuroko no Basket related, and yet my first request is about Akashi who is (in my opinion) one of the hardest character to write about 😭🫶 But love you and I hope you enjoyed it, sorry it took me so long

Gn!reader x Akashi Seijiuro

- You and Akashi did not hit it off right away, it was more of a slowburn when you were kids. At first you felt jealous about how amazing he was in everything he tried just once, but the more you spent time with him, the more you felt sorry for him. It was actually awful to be perfect.

- One day when you were 5, you just told him, that he is amazing, but not only because he is perfect, but he will still be amazing even if he fails from time to time, which felt so off from what he was taught, so he didn’t believe you at first. What do you mean fail? But later on, he somehow felt comforted by your presence just because he knew that, if he ever fails, you won’t judge him for it. And it was a beginning of a very strong friendship.

- For years you and Akashi were the strongest duo know in the school. He would always have your back and everyone knew they cannot say anything bad about you, if they want to live. And Akashi would know that he can always count on you whenever he just needed comfort, even a silent one. You were a ride or die.

- … Until your dad got a job overseas right before middle school. You two were so exciting to go to Teiko together, and now none of you wanted to even say out loud how heartbroken you felt.

- He gave you a necklace to keep, just a simple chain with a jade on it - jade was always associated with emperor, so it naturally reminded you of him. However none of you decided to give any emotional speech. The only words that lingered in between you two was “we will meet again”

- For a year you kept in touch by messages, but the longer you’ve been gone, the less frequent it got. You kept tabs on Teiko’s amazing wins, but you could feel that something changed in Akashi.

- Between second year of middle school till second year of high school, you stopped talking at all and it broke your heart. You still wore the necklace everyday.

- Around beginning of second year of high school, you got a call out of the blue. It was him.

“Hey” you heard a familiar voice. It got a little more deep and rough, but it still brought back so many memories. “I didn’t know if you’ll answer”

You stayed silent for a while. “Of course I would”

After this couple words an awkward silence filled the line. What else could you say? How are you? What were you doing for the past years?

“I’m sorry” he said. You knew Akashi Seijiuro for years and one thing that you probably never heard from him was an apology. And him ordering fast food. “I missed you. I don’t think you would be proud of what person I was in the past years” His voice felt a little weak, for the proud and amazing Akashi Seijiuro you knew.

“Good. It means you are no longer perfect, doesn’t it?” You decided to keep quiet about how sad it made you to not get a single message in the past years.

“Yes. I guess so”

- After this surprising call, you came back to keeping in touch with each other. You were still in high school overseas, but now finally feeling Akashi’s presence in your life, it felt better, fuller. However also quite empty.

- You were having a phone call at least once per month when you talked like nothing changed. He told you that he plans to play basketball after high school, but wants to go to Tokyo University first. And that was the moment you decided what you want to do with your future too.

~ Two years later ~

Waiting for a luggage never felt longer than now. Why the hell did you have to bring this huge suitcase? Maybe carry on would be enough, for a whole damn moving back to Japan?

You noticed that you started sweating uncontrollably. Of course, now, when you really want to smell like this nice expensive perfume, you will stink like a shoe on a hot summer day. Perfect.

When you finally collected proper baggage, you slowly went towards the arrivals gate. It’s been six years when you last saw each other. Six whole years. What if he won’t recognise you anymore? You were playing with the jade on your neck to calm yourself down.

When you went through the door, you started to look around. Somehow in your mind Akashi is still a small boy with red hair, and you could only imagine how much he changed by seeing his pictures in the magazine photos. Would it be embarrassing if you mistake him for someone else? Doubts started to fill your head. And then, in just one moment, they all disappeared when you saw a familiar face in the crowd.

He got tall, extremely handsome, and he looked just so mature. Your eyes met and he smiled lightly. And in that very moment you felt like everything melt inside of you.

You fasten your steps and when it was only meters away, you dropped your suitcase and jumped into his arms. In this moment you were so thankful for all of this years of heavy training he did, because he held you like you weight nothing, and holding you was the most natural thing to do. You pressed your nose to the crook of his neck.

“Hey” you heard his deep voice, just like two years ago in your phone, but this time, it was louder and clearer. “I missed you”

You felt like your eyes started to water up. You moved away a little to look at his face.

“Yeah, I missed you too”

And on one hand you felt like nothing change and no time has passed, but on the other, just in this moment, you felt like everything will change from now on.

[strawberrystepmom]

miss kendyberry! 🍓 when do you and narumi first get to meet in person?

good morning love dove <333 i hope thursday is very sweet to you!! if not i'm gonna make it be sweet!!!!! or else!!!

we meet in person around 18 months after we met online. most of that time (the first year) is spent openly pining on my end and eating it up on his, sexting, talking all day and night and finally after a year im like "so are we together or like.....?" bc my assumption is that we have been the entire time and good news - so was his. he's like "uh obviously unless i've missed something? are you cumming saying other people's names or????"

and then i start planning a trip to come and see him! and then i arrive in japan! we fuck like insane nasty freaks for two days and then i get sick from something i've eaten and it's really a terrible situation! he also has to admit what his job with the military really is bc i see him on tv while i'm like half dead and trying to hydrate with pocari sweat! he never told me bc he just assumed i googled him and i didn't!

im crying this is so messy. a battle of ego (him) vs wanting to find out information organically and pry it out of him bc i find it fun (me)... he's ridiculous but he does hold my hair back when i get sick and im like "i love you but i understand if this is the end for us" bc i'm humiliated and feel awful and he just doesn't say anything so i assume it is. he drops me off at the airport and i expect to never hear from him again.

i keep my phone off for the entire flight and then once i'm home and turn it on there's a message from him apologizing for not responding better when i told him i loved him he was just surprised. he loves me too he loved seeing me "you're welcome" for finding out about the fucking kaiju killing thing and asks me if i think he's cool. i remind him that yes, i do. i do indeed think he's cool. then we start planning my next trip out.

[feysandfeels]

Can I ask you for relationship advice? I apologize this is gonna be long 🫠 I moved 600 km from my hometown to get my masters degree. I have been here since october and since then, I've been dating my boyfriend. He is perfect in every way, only today I realized two problems.

Number one: I have been talking a lot about how much I miss my hometown, so I thought he'd be aware I'd wanna move back at some point. Today he made a comment that made me realize he is not. I haven't corrected this yet. And I really do miss my friends and family, every day. I can not see myself living this far apart from them forever. Every day, I talk to my friends and i wish I was with them... concerts, park dates, dinner, game nights, sleepovers... I am so blessed to have them and being apart from them pains me. However, from his comments today I am pretty sure he is not willing to move anywhere else but here.

Number two: Today he told me he is in the process of buying an apartment in this city. Which further cements his life plans here, but also made me realize he makes MUCH more money than I ever will. Previously, I thought we made about the same, but I will probably never be able to afford a down payment for a flat whereas he is just buying one in his mid 20s. He has also stated multiple times that he wants his life partner to make about the same salary he does - and I think we both assumed we were in the same tax bracket. Turns out, we are not at all. I now know how much he makes and my salary will never come close to his, but I think he is assuming it will once I've finished my masters.

So... even if he wants to continue this relationship despite the financial difference, I will have to make a decision about my place of residence at some point. And it's already breaking my heart.

For context, I am 28 years old and have only had failed talking stages and one painful situationship after the other so far. So, dating him is really a dream come true. I was so tired of being single, despite actively going on at least 2 dates a month for 8 years, I never clicked with anybody like that. I was super sad at times bc all my friends are in relationships and I'm the chronically single one, I even kinda made peace with not getting to have a family of my own bc I can't find a partner. He is my one in a million. Before meeting him I felt super lonely at times, frustrated because I thought I might never experience love or a good relationship etc. With him, I see myself having a family and growing old. He is so much better than I could have ever dreamed of and he really makes my life worth enjoying. I think if we broke up, I'd always mourn the life I could have had with him.

But still, I can't really see myself leaving my friends and family so far behind. Any advice, or just for curiostiy, any idea what you would decide on?

I guess I'm gonna have to talk to him about my financial situation and about the wish to move back one day and then see if he is still willing to be with me. But even in that case, I know I'll have to make a decision that will hurt one way

Wait, hold on, are you the person I talked to last year about moving to do their Master's Program but they were a bit concerned because there was a situation with a man and I told you to not consider the man when making your decision, because if anything that should be a bonus of you choosing the program that makes you the happiest? Is this you? 

If so, I am so so so so sorry I kind of disappeared, my mental health took a solid dive. But I hope your program has been fulfilling and even though you are missing your family and friends, that these past few months have been blessed with joy and wonder and discovery! I've thought about you often and I'm sending you nothing but light. 

If this is not you, and this is the first time you message me. Hi! Hello! Hola hola!! I Hope besides this matter all is well with you. You are always welcomed to drop by with anything, I am more than happy to be the cunty friend we all need. 🥂

Okay so I think first it is important for you to determine  the “where am I approaching this relationship.” Because not all relationships have to be pointed towards “forever and ever and endgame,” you can be very very happy dating someone for the present of it all. Given the context you have given me I also think it is crucial for you to like… be mindful of perspective, yes fail situationships are obviously not great and all, but this being your first lets call it “let me introduce you to my parents” relationship, things might seem brighter than they are. I am not saying that he is not great and amazing and absolutely well suited for who you are as person, but I think treading with the care would be best. I feel… like when you find a person with whom you click with after "being tired of being single," as you put it, I don’t know my gal, I would tread lightly… This is why I think it is important for you to define the where am I approaching this relationship, is it from a place of “I’m so tired of being single, and omg he is actually a really nice person and we click” or a “he is my endgame endgame” or a “I am here in the present but the future seems a bit cloudy” or from wherever? Know that whatever answer you arrive to is valid and correct and perfect, but do ask yourself from where this is coming, because this will give you clues as to how to procede with the… he wants to stay here I want to go back, what do we do with this. Be honest with yourself as to where you are coming from, what do you want and why do you want what you want… you know, to make sure that it comes from you and not perhaps fomo or external expectations.

As for the money matter… like can I ask what his reasoning is behind him wanting a partner that has similar economic means? Like…. Hmmm listen, I am not going to lie to you, having seen couples that come from different socio-economic backgrounds, there are certain matters that arise in the relationship that one does not necessarily see with couples that comes from the same background. But quiet frankly you can say the same for relationships that are intercultural, for example for me, every time I date a White Boy™️ that comes from the Global North, I do run into certain … obstacles or situations that highlight how my realities as an immigrant or a latina do not even cross their minds and for me sometimes it does become frustrating. But then with willingness from the other person to learn, things like that can be overcome. Which is why I question his need to have a partner with a similar earning income? Because… idk call me a hopeless romantic but whatever disparity that arises can be solved with a little bit of empathy and better distribution of what you both contribute to your future household. This to me is a bit sus. And shall remain sus until I understand his reasoning better. 

As a parting thought.. pain is unavoidable in life, so make sure that whatever decision you come to, do not come to it because you want the option that hurts less. You have a great support system: you have your friends who love you, hopefully an M.A program that you find uplifting and engaging, a family that is there for you and an online community that is here to listen to you (me included)… so remain true to yourself even if that demands pain from you, because the pain that comes from choosing what you want actually is for the better and nourishes you too. 

Besos besos, mi linda

Lu 🤍

[infatuatedpup]

SIKE IM BACK BAYBEEEEEE !!

Back to my shinanigains!!!

S and I are talking again!!! We started talking like a few weeks after our fall out because my dumbass doesn’t know how to go no contact and messaged him a few days after my birthday. He didn’t apologize. I did and he said that we wanted to continue talking ..

Exciting part first! We ended up meeting up !! And he slept over (´･ω･`)!!! We went to a show and he spent the night. I originally was going to have him sleep on the floor but then I said fuck it , want to share my twin sized bed lmao . He said yes and we cuddled

>\\\> like idkkkkk it was really cold that night and he was super warm and it was nice. like he just wrapped his arm around my waist and cuddled me. we didnt do anything else or kiss or anything because im assuming he was tired. we didnt get home from the concert till like 2am and by the time we got in bed it was like 3am . i didnt make any moves on him. he didnt try to kiss me .. honestly i should have asked for a goodnight kiss AT LEAST. idk i was so shy to even think of that .. the next day I woke up before him and just was like 🧍🏽‍♀️ because I didn’t want to wake him up >.> when he did wake up we just chilled in my room .. We chatted a bit here and there but idk we didn’t really have any deep conversations. He was mostly on his phone , we did cuddle some more and I eventually made myself some coffee and asked him if he wanted any he said no. He later asked if I could make him a coffee and I said only if he said please .. and gave me a kiss. Which he did and we made out for a bit after that>.> then I made him his coffee. He eventually had to get going . He left and idk I just got so anxious. Thinking back maybe it’s because I felt like maybe I’d never see him again or I just wanted him to say more or idk . I spiraled and apologized profusely about if I make him uncomfortable and how I’m awkward. He didn’t reply until like 8pm saying that I’m ok and that I’m just overthinking things. And that I’m fine. Idk .. before he left I asked how he felt about me and he kinda avoided the question and idk he said that he wants to continue talking .. and then I asked him “ well do you like me?” And he replied “obviously “ but idk if he understood what I meant when I said liked?? Idk .. fast forward in February I asked him to be my valentine and he said yes. He started clinical about 2 weeks before so I know we wouldn’t be able to do anything together but I just asked .. bc yknow I want him to be mine. Idk on Valentine’s Day I called him to tell him happy Valentine’s Day real quick since he had been working.. and then last week he said he missed me 😵‍💫😵‍💫 idk I just said I missed him too bc idk how to respond to that.. like we haven’t really talked much since he started his clinicals for class.. I mean yea I’m sad we don’t talk much but I understand and give him space because I respect him. I do text him good morning and good night even if he doesn’t always respond to them.. idk

We talked on the phone today for a little and he was saying how he got braces and ofc I’m like “pics or it didn’t happen” and he’s like “ I’ll show you in person . I’ll pull up” and I’m like nah you won’t” and he said he would during his week break in 4 weeks and idk I don’t believe him but I really hope he does come over.. idk I’m touch starved ..

While we were talking today I realized I get really nervous and I blank out and realize idk what to say most of the time🧍🏽‍♀️ like I’m nervous I’ll say something wrong and scare him away or come off too intense .. idk I know how was tired today so I knew we were not going to be on the phone for long but I wish we could talk a bit longer.. maybe I’m asking for too much..

[b1mbodoll]

MY QUEEN IS BACK 💗💗💗💗

Literally, mere hours before you make your grand return, I was thinking about how I haven't seen your works of art on my fyp on tumblr as of late.

I hope your break served you well - I had to take a break by getting high off my ass this weekend after neing pretty overwhelmed woth school this pats week. But I'm doing better now so I hope you are too.

(I did make plans to meet up with a boy I had a massive crush on this past summer, over Thanksgiving break) so that's now something I have to overthink about 😭😭

Anyways, sorry for the ramble - just wanted to let you know that I'm so happy ur back 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 smooches galore sent ur way

MY LOVE !!!!! HI!!!!!! wah im so overwhelmed with happiness omg ur asks always make me smile u r just the sweetest <333

my works of art 😭😭 im giggling rn ur too kind to me <3 im sorry for just disappearing !!!! i needed a break from everythin n everyone makin me feel bad :( but i missed all my wonderful little followers n anonies n mutuals and especially ur sweet messages <3 i cherish them as if they were love letters 💌

i’m sososo sorry school is tough :( i hope ur sesh was wonderful n that it helped you relax <3 you deserve it ♡ i hope ur able to rest more soon :( dont want u overworkin urself honey !!!! n tysm im feeling a smidge better :D and im kinda hopin being on here n interacting with you all helps me get my mind off the things botherin me lately :p

i am SO happy for u omg!!!!!! i hope ur hangout goes well im gna go BANANAS i love love and tomance and crushes and feelings and im wishing u THE BEST!!!!!!!!! crossing my fingers n hoping u have the best time <3 please keep me updated if ur comfy <3 pls do not overthink!!!!! im positive things will be fine and if they are not or he does something then i will simply eat the boy 🩷 and u will never have to think abt him again <3 mwah

dont apologize for rambling!!!!! i love rambling!!!! i love talking to u guys n it hurts my lil hurt when u guys apologize bc i love it!!!!!!!!!! im happy that ur happy im back :D sending u a MILLION smooches rn sweetpea <3

[corcnaiism]

attentively  did  he  listen  to  the  full  song,  picking  up  cues  here  &  there  that  he’s  heard  in  other  songs  with  similar  rhythm  &  pace.  in  his  mind,  he  pieced  together  what  he  could  hear  &  envisioned  the  music  tabs  sliding  across  his  fingers.  might  not  be  precise  as  he  would  have  to  listen  to  the  song  at  full  volume  a  couple  of  times,  but  now  he  wished  he  carried  his  guitar  in  order  to  not  lose  the  groove  he  currently  was  experiencing.  

but  noooooooo.  he  decided  it  was  the  perfect�� day  to  go  fishing  instead.  

stupid.

once  the  song  finished,  noctis  scrimmed  through  the  comments  sections  to  see  what  others  had  to  say  &,  for  the  most  part,  a  lot  of  it  was  overwhelmingly  positive.  it  made  him  think  about  what  others  may  think  of  him  &  his  band  if  they  ever  decided  to  expand  their  horizons,  but  negativity  wasn’t  something  he  knew  he  could  handle  at  the  moment,  so  perhaps  it  was  better  they  kept  it  on  the  low.  besides,  their  band  was  more  so  just  a  hobby  of  theirs  &  not  a  real  job,  so  it  wouldn’t  hinder  them  a  lot  if  they  didn’t  make  it  big.  

it  was  better  that  way.

　　❛  damn,  that  was  metal  as  fuck.  i  really  need  to  —  ❜ 

just  as  noctis  was  about  to  put  his  phone  away,  he  received  a  message  from  the  one  person  he  has  been  waiting  to  hear  from,  &  his  eyes  glowed  a  lighter  shade.  he  completely  dropped  his  train  of  thought  in  order  to  read  the  message  &  respond  to  it,  &  if  he  had  been  sitting  down,  his  legs  would  be  swinging  like  a giggling  school  girl.  

　　[  ignis  ]:  My  apologies  for  the  late  response.  I  was  in  the  middle  of  a  meeting.  Do  you  still  want  me  to  pick  you  up?

　　[  noctis  ]:  yes  plz  and  ty.  i’m  inside  a  convenience  store  atm  bc  it’s  just  too  fucking  hot

　　　　　　—  location  sent  —

　　　　　　i’ll  be  waiting,  handsome  ;)

　　[  ignis  ]:  I’ll  be  there  in  a  few.  Do.  Not.  Go.  Anywhere.  Like  you  always  do.  I  don’t  want  to  go  searching  for  you  in  this  heat.  You  will  have  to  find  another  way  to  get  back  home  if  you  so  much  as  move  an  inch.  Understood?

　　[  noctis  ]:  damn  you’d  abandon  me  like  that  ??  :(

　　　　　　but  yeah  yeah  no  worries

　　　　　　too  hot  for  me  to  go  anywhere  anyways

　　　　　　thanks  <3

once  the  final  message  had  been  sent,  noctis  shoved  his  phone  inside  his  pocket  &  found  his  seat  once  more  on  the  bench  the  two  had  been  sitting  on.  he  was  relieved  he  wouldn’t  have  to  actually  move  anywhere  to  pass  the  time,  considering  it  shouldn’t  be  long  before  ignis  arrived.  he  looked  back  at  amala  with  a  sly  smile  as  his  brain  tried  to  recollect  where  his  thoughts  had  been  dropped  before  the  interruption  occurred.

　　❛  you  know,  i  forgot  what  i  was  going  to  say.  umm  .  .  .  oh  well.  but  hey,  it’s  nice  to  meet  someone  else  who  has  a  good  taste  in  music.  monodramatic  is  the  shit,  &  i’m  still  just  so  sad  i  had  to  miss  them.  i’ll  have  to  give  them  more  of  a  listen  &  maybe  do  covers  of  some  of  their  songs.  that’d  be  neat.  ❜

luckily for the both of them, the store clerk is now sitting down and absorbed in one of those trashy gossip tabloids, and doesn't seem to care very much about the two of them still being there. amala's relieved for that--if she had to go out in this heat again in the next few minutes, she might scream.

"i'm not a musician in the slightest, so i can't say too much, but she sings in an almost opera-like fashion and is also hitting some smooth low notes during the chorus, which i think is pretty cool," amala replies, shifting a little tilting her head at noctis. it seems that he's got some music experience, and not just the oh i played in middle school band type. genuine, proper experience like someone who still plays music regularly has.

they don't say this much, but that's pretty cool.

even though they don't do it too often, amala likes to sing. and not in a professional sense, like the people that they've seen perform at clubs and smallish venues frequently (and are good, in their mind), more of the singing-in-the-shower type. as a kid, amala's mom had put her in choir for a bit, and while they enjoyed belting out songs like nobody's business, some of the other kids there were stuck-up snobs that made it all unbearable.

watching noctis search up something on his phone before listening to what she soon realizes is the same song that they were just talking about makes amala feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside. it's been a while since they've just been able to chat about their favorite with someone, considering that red has gotten much busier with work and therapy and uttara is more of a classical music guy and is technically a client of hers.

"honestly, the only way i'd call someone a fake fan of monodramatic is if they haven't even listened to even one of their songs and yet talks about 'em like they know about them, so you're all good." they wave a hand in the air, mimicking a gesture that they've seen people do in conversations that they just...picked up, somewhere. "just because fools and foes is their most popular album doesn't mean it's not a good piece of their work."

[cleyellow-wood]

a/n: inspired by nerves by dpr ian and today’s chan’s room bc he played dpr ian today heh. love confessions, and all that :) 

[7:23 AM]

“hi, how’re you doing?”

it comes out awful, jagged, and wrong from his mouth, and he winces saying it. you frown around your lemonade, and chan has the feeling of standing backwards on the edge of a cliff, his heels dangling precariously on nothing.

“i’m good. happy.” you humour him and it makes him smile to himself, looking into his glass of water. their pastries lay between them, untouched. he wonders if your stomach is as tumultuous is his, but his can be attributed to the fact he’s in love with you. and yours could be because of how shitty he’s been to everyone around him. “you?”

“i’m fine.”

“oh, that’s good. i worried.”

“worried? about me?”

“of course. i care about you, you know. and you’re such a hard worker. the last few weeks, you’ve been stressed, but i didn’t know how to, y’know... i thought it was best if i just stayed away.” your nails tap the glass and you look aside, searching for words. chan’s hands come fully around his own glass, and although, his throat is dry, he doesn’t think he can pick up his water without dropping it. 

“i’m sorry,” he says because it’s all he can say without saying how many times he laid awake, remembering that night he read those messages you sent him. messages he read too late, and han read right on time. how, many times, he wanted to run to you these past few weeks, only for you to have disappeared from his life as quickly as you’ve appeared in it.

you scratch at your wrist. “so, did you need something?”

and chan wants to be polite. he wants to somehow carefully segue into what he really wants to talk about like how he weaves a song together from nothing, but the panic that he’s welled up inside him since the staff had told him you already began to pack your bags to leave overtakes his tongue. 

“i heard you were leaving.”

if you’re surprised, you don’t show it. “yes. the project is over. i don’t have a reason to stay any longer.”

a stupid voice in his head wants to ask, not even for me? but chan had thrown away his chances like coins into a fountain, and now you’re sitting across from him, shifting because he is the one making you nervous.

the one person you proclaimed could never make you uncomfortable.

he wonders if you said goodbye to everyone else and avoided him on purpose. if it hurts like this, like swallowing glass, awkward and agonizing, half of him wishes he let you run away.

“i hope you had fun in korea,” he finds himself saying. “and that you come back soon. the kids and i will miss you.”

your expression flickers from its controlled neutrality, and for a moment, he sees the wistfulness in your eyes at the mention of the others. 

“it was nice meeting them. i’ll miss them, too.” unexpectedly, his eyes begin to burn at how your face softens as the memories flood your head, and chan looks down into his water, trying to fight the way his chest is clotting up.

a thousand apologies bubble up inside him, but when he tries to speak, a strange noise gets caught up in his throat and his face burns.

“sorry,” he utters.

“drink some water.”

he stares at you as you busy yourself with one of the pastries. it’s a sight he’s seen so many times before. the sun is slanting onto their table, and the sound of the early risers on the streets is nothing but a low murmur. in the winter, there’d been nothing but silence as their company. in the spring, people came with them. seungmin, or changbin. felix. hyunjin with his camera capturing an angle like it was your last and you’d be whisked away from them without a moment’s notice.

and now, this probably is the last moment, and hyunjin isn’t here.

“do you want some?” you ask, ripping the tail end of a croissant off. 

he barely remembers to say yes.

they stick to menial subjects: how’s the album coming along? the project’s done, but when will it be out? oh, the concept photos looked interesting. chan’s eyes stop burning, but he avoids looking at you. you’re not too interested in him either, your lemonade slowly disappearing between your lips, the fruit tart that had accompanied the croissant slowly reduced to nothing more than crumbs. 

he feels so incredibly tired.

“this was probably the most memorable trip i’ve ever taken,” you say suddenly, and he glances up at you, “and i’ll always look at the photos i took with a smile.”

“what was your favourite part?”

“i don’t know. i experienced so many new things. the food, lotte world.” that makes him crack a smile. you cross your arms on the table and lean forward. “the people and the music.” you hesitate, and you look from their empty plate, to him, and chan’s heart quickens at the softness there. “i fell in love here and that makes this place even more beautiful.”

his stomach cramps. he shouldn’t have eaten at all. “fell in love?”

“mhm. it might sound stupid, but i think that’s part of what makes leaving so hard.”

“you don’t have to. i heard your boss said you could take the open position in seoul.”

your smile trembles. you look out at the street. “no,” you say. “i couldn’t.”

“why not?”

“because it hurts too much to be here.” you look like you’re fighting something, and chan’s eyes begin to burn again. he clears his throat, and it does nothing but make the bruising sensation in his throat worse. “as much as i loved living here, i fell in love with someone here and i think that trumps anything else.”

instantly, chan’s brain runs through the possibilities of who it could be, and compares each one to himself. was it bambam? or yugyeom? god forbid, it’s one of the kids and chan has to fight himself to keep silent. 

it’s moments before he can speak again, and he manages to keep his tone steady. “you never told me that.”

“i know you said it’s a bad idea to fall for an idol, so i felt bad because i didn’t listen to you,” you remind weakly. “like you said, most of the time, they’re not even real. but i think the guy i fell for was real.”

“and does he know?”

“no. i don’t think so. we used to see each other a lot, but recently, i think he doesn’t like me anymore.”

“you should’ve told me. i would’ve helped you.”

“i don’t think...” you laugh shakily and sit on your hands, leaning forward. your bottom lip snags on your teeth, and chan wants to reach forward to touch your mouth. “i just don’t think he likes me.”

“why not? they’d be stupid if they didn’t.”

a chuckle. “you really think that, huh.” pained and short and soft: “chan?”

his eyes lift from your mouth to your eyes. his throat goes dry. “yes?”

“i don’t want you to worry about it, okay? it doesn’t matter anymore. i’ve sort of accepted that he doesn’t love me since he pushed me away. it’s better if i stay away.” your eyes meet his, tired. “i don’t want to distract him, you see. he has an album coming out soon, and i think it’s probably a sign that i don’t exactly fit in with his lifestyle, if you understand.”

and he understands. 

chan has never been stupid. far from it. the ground drops from underneath his feet as soon as it sinks in what exactly you’re implying. he thinks of the past three weeks, of every time he’s run to you, to find you busy with something else, talking to someone else, doing something else. there was always an excuse, and he thought you hated him. that you had wanted to meet new people, had grown sick of him. but he also knows how ungrateful he’d been. how clipped his answers were when all you were trying to do was help him on top of your own workload. 

he doesn’t know why he decided to ignore you when you were standing right there. he doesn’t know why he couldn’t work harder to just fix himself for you. he knows that you deserve better than what you’ll get from him, but he can’t help himself from chasing after you. he just can’t let someone like you—someone who chooses to stay—go. him being here, calling you until you agreed to meet him at a café, is proof of all of that.

“i should go.” you rise, and chan shoots to his feet, too. you clear your throat, grabbing your bag, and step out into the street. a car drones past, and you watch it go as he tugs at the string of his hoodie, sidling up to face you. 

they stand a foot apart, but it is a thousand yards. his heart has plummeted to his feet and he feels like he’s stepping all over it as his shoes scuff the sidewalk. you don’t look at him, hand gripping your bag tighter, and chan’s head aches at the idea of never seeing you again. of realizing too late.

you have to know. you have to know he felt the same way all this time—

“(name),” he says, and your eyes flit to him. as soon as their eyes meet, your gaze drops, and what’s left of his heart is crushed into dust. “he loves you, too. i’m sure of it.”

you frown, and not even your head turned can hide that away from him. “don’t try to be funny.”

“i know he loves you,” he promises. he reaches out slowly, and his fingers stall before they can touch your cheek. you stare at his reaching hand, before stepping back, head dipping. he swallows, fingers curling into a fist that he lets hang by his side. “he loves you more than he thought was possible.”

“you’re lying.” “why would i lie?”

“i don’t know. because you’re trying to make me feel better. because you do that.”

“i would never lie to you. please. look at me.” you don’t move, and he shuffles closer. your head jerks up to meet his gaze, and he cocks his head, leaning forward. “you distract me in the best way, and i don’t... i don’t want you to leave.”

your gaze burns. “it doesn’t feel like it. you hate me.”

“i could never hate you. i’ll prove it.” “when?” you challenge spitefully. “we’re out of time. i have to go home and present the project to the execs and receive my new assignment. i don’t have time to just... entertain you.”

“i’ll make time. i’ll carve out hours of my day for you. i’ll show you for as many days and nights as it takes to convince you that i’m in love with you. just come back as soon as you tie up your loose ends back home and i’ll make sure i apologize every single day.”

“chan.”

his heart wretches and rots as he begs, “just three days. if you don’t want to be with me after those three days, i’ll leave you alone.”

“you want me to fly across the world back here for three days for you?” you repeat, and he bites on the inside of his cheek, wincing. it’s a hard ask especially for professionals like them. chan thinks for a second you’ll step away and out of his life right then and there. after all, this is him asking for another chance—one that he himself doesn’t think is capable of existing.

he tries to come up with an adequate answer to your question in the meanwhile as if that’ll help his case. does he want you to fly across the world for him? no. no, that would be selfish and not productive on your end. chan wants you to be the most successful and happiest you can be above all else. so the question must be does he believe he can make you happy?

and the answer, in his brightest hour is yes. yes, he can, and he wants to give them a proper chance so he can prove it.

he opens his mouth to say as much, but you beat him to the punch.

“okay,” you agree. he blinks, staring at you, and your body seems to relax into your spine, your entire countenance shifting. your eyebrows draw together, and your eyes fix on him with curiosity. curiosity and sorrow. “okay.”

“okay?”

“i’ll have to figure out the vacation days i can take off,” you say. “but okay.”

“really?” his heart lurches up into his chest, lodges right underneath his larynx like an uncomfortable ball of anxious energy. “i don’t deserve this, but i promise, i’ll do my best to make this worth it for you.”

“i know you will,” you answer him softly. “i really do have to go, though, so this is goodbye.”

he shakes his head. “it doesn’t have to be.”

“then, i’ll see you later,” you propose, and he cracks a small, shaky grin as you reach out to hold his hand. his fingers curl tighter around yours instantly like you are the only thing keeping him from drifting away, and you are. he’s going to miss you more than he thought you would when he first saw you for the first time walking into their green room eighteen months ago. “make sure that guy stays in love with me.”

“as long as you don’t get over him.”

“it’s impossible, i think,” you say. “i’m in love with him, too.”

leave a reblog or comment if you enjoyed! :)

[lynbaccha]

Before I go into details of my own experience, I want to say this;

DO NOT HARASS ANY PERSON MENTIONED IN THIS THING, CAPISHE?!

Idk how relevant it is, but I have a bad experience with the same user. Sure, I wasn't involved with anything in Per Aspera's creating process, never wanted to either as it wasn't my co-project. But I tried to talk to Lance and befriend him. His art was cool to me, and we created our then similar OC's around the same time (Koranus, who was originally evil little bitchboi and my still evil Umbra, whom I really need to use more.)

But me being a fan of Lance's work started with his Dewther-comic, Fade. I even bought it, bc I couldn't wait until Valentine's to see what would happen. And since I found out they were from Finland too, I followed Lance. And he followed me back.

Basically, it was saying stuff in an empty cave and cave answered. Our interactions felt so empty. Despite me trying to ask about Koranus, who I saw as an interesting character, and me dancing around with Lance's dislike towards heteroships - despite one of the main ships I focused were (and still are) Terzo/Omega/and my OC Freya. I know that I mentioned this, because I showed him mine and my good friends OC, Ursa, who's Omega's and Freya's daughter.

I also have hunch what concert we are talking about, and I'm still a bit salty. Basically, I asked Lance can I tag along with their group, bc I was there too, and I wanted to meet fellow ghesties. I asked three times, which I unfortunately can't prove, because I deleted my Twitter before all what was described above went nuclear, and we talked in there before Lance deleted his own. Basically, despite him saying he would ask, he didn't say yes or no to me. And I just found put from Ruska that it was supposed to be a gentle no... But I never got an answer.

Which, honestly, even no could have been 1000 times better than leave hanging.

Also, according to Lance, he himself couldn't manage to arrange it, and that "this child isn't spoiled with brain cells", or something like that, but in Finnish. Of that, I have a screenshot, but it's in Finnish, so idk should I post it here. And Lance apologized only when I reached him almost month after the said concert.

I stopped talking to him directly on around August, because I never felt welcomed in his DM's. And some time after The Thing happened, I unfollowed all the three blogs - Per Aspera, Lance's and Fay's, and I figured out that I would just leave them be. The story itself isn't bad, and I'm all for LGBTQ+-voices to be heard in creative spaces, I just couldn't support the project myself.

I could have blocked him, sure, but... It was a bit complicated matter

I was originally part The Infestissunam-zine, and I was supposed to do a piece for Monstrance Clock. However, my mental health was shitty all last year, so I shouldn't have continued in the zine as long as I did. I was thinking about leaving long and hard...

Lance was one of the mods. And while I was scrolling through "ghoul kits"-tag I noticed something was missing.

One of the Per Aspera posts. About what Koru and Astra looked like as kits.

After doing some research, I found out they both have blocked me from their personal blogs and from Per Aspera. And I was already thinking of leaving, I contacted the other mod and cited my mental health as a reason. However, there could be a possibility that Lance blocking me, and apparently some others, was made known by a third person.

But you unfollowed Lance, why are you so upset about that? Again, Lance was a mod in the zine I was a part of, blocking him wouldn't have made sense. And since Lance didn't spend much time on the server - I think he had one message in total in there before I left, but I might remember wrong - and since his Twitter was long gone by then, I could have only reached hin from Tumblr, as far as I'm aware, if I ever needed his help.

So, uh... That's my experience with this user. And it honestly made me feel a bit like an outsider even in here - I felt very ignored in the last fandom I was in, I was thinking that maybe my approach is wrong.

But, perhaps all the fault wasn't on me? The more these things come to light, the more it feels like that.

So yeah... That's my experience with this user.

why did you guys stop talking to lance and frey

after being ghosted for several weeks and then blocked, we couldn't. the one who wasn't immediately blocked had a few more days, most likely because his place was the bed and shower for a concert, and was then informed that "some friendships aren't built to last" before he was also blocked

he had a point, tbh, because you can't have a friendship with anyone when you push people away and don't communicate with them. one of them didn't say a word to anyone and let the other speak for him.

and the saddest part? it was over the stories and art, for the sandbox we were playing in together to be theirs and theirs alone. they seemed to not want our ideas filthying the pool of theirs. we went from a lively gc to a dead one that felt like we couldn't participate in without bothering them, then a truly dead one when they left.

i can't speak for the others, but i liked seeing their work. it was exciting watching the story change over time because they were my friends and i got to see something they made come to life, and they wanted me to see! do you know what it's like to be allowed behind an artist's creative process, to know that you're trusted enough to see the incomplete work? i loved hyping them up, because they were my friends and i loved giving them the support they deserved.

and they wondered to us about how hard it was to make friends. i really fucking wonder why, with this trail of dead friendships one has left behind, all with the same story as ours. the distancing, the latching on to someone new and shiny, the inevitable blocking because you're not good enough anymore.

if I sound angry, it's because i still am. i'm angry because lost two friends and watched two more struggle to cope with the devastation left in their wake. i'm angry because my stupid brain still makes me wonder if i could have done anything differently when i know they don't deserve a shred of my affection.

they're terrible people, and that's why we don't talk anymore

[n1k1tty]

enhypen reacting to you calling them ‘bro/dude’

# 희승 [heeseung] - you guys had an arcade date

- and then you already know how competitive you guys are

- so when you guys were doing the basketball one, he was teasing you and taking your balls away lmao

- “bro istg if you don’t stop im gna punch you”

- kinda got used to it tbh. but he was still a little sulky cuz he wants you to call him babe or seungie/hee

- “y/n we’ve been dating for almost a year, yet you still call me bro🙄😒”

- pouts the whole time

- “okay im sorry baby, now stop pouting and get ready to lose”

- you ended up losing anyway but it’s alright cuz he got you a stuffy with all the tickets he won😋

# 제이 [jay]

- you guys were baking gingerbread cookies for the members during christmas and he smudged icing on your nose bcs he wanted to 🙄 sorry im so excited for christmas lol

- so then you were like “dude😡”

- and then he was like “*gasp*😦😟”

- and then you realized what you said and gave him a smirk

- “bro can you pass me the-” —slam!

- he *jokingly* slams the pack of candy decorations

- “y/n one more time and i’ll smudge the whole bowl of icing on your face” he wasn’t actually lol

- “alright, alright. sorry bro—”

- *starts chasing you around their dorm with the bowl of icing on his hand”

# 제이크 [jake]

- you usually call him babe, jakey or sexy as a joke like

- “hey sexy😩😏” and then he’d be like “😦🤭😏 hey Jessica”

- and then you’d be like “😱 who’s jessica😡🔪”

- LMAO I GOT OFF TOPIC BUT

- it was like 3am and you miss him so you wanted to sneak out

- so you message him like 1000000 times

- “hey man” “bro” “jake” “dude wake up” “jake senpai wake up juicesaeyo >_<”

- first he’d be totally be disturbed by you calling him senpai and “not the koreaboo-ness😟🤢 i’m breaking up with you”

- and then he realizes later and then 🤭😒🙄 "y/nnnnnnnn, im not going out until you tell me WHO YOU’RE CALLING BRO?🔫😡"

- "BABE OK IM SORRY. NOW COME HERE. I MISS YOU"

- "ok baby im coming🥰"

# 성훈 [sunghoon]

- he’ll tease you whenever you call him babe he lowkey likes it tho dw

- so then you just decided to call him bro just for today

- bro when i tell you his mood went from a 200 to a .000000000001 in a second

- so you guys were watching a movie and you asked him to pass the remote

- “babe can you pass me the remote” and he was ‘cringing’ but inside he was like 🥰🥰😋😘😁

- so when you saw the look on his face you said “thanks bro”

- face dead as went 📞⬅️ 😁 to 😒➡️💨📞🙄 SORRY THERES NO REMOTE EMOJI

- you started laughing at him

- “YAH! this is funny to you?”

- “hoon if you want me to call you babe just say. i know you like it😏😘”

# 선우 [sunoo]

- POUTY BABY

- you guys were just going on a morning walk

- and you were like "bro wait, my shoelaces are untied"

- IT WAS ON ACCIDENT

- he decided to not wait for u🙄

- "YAH! what if i got kidnapped by a mafia family?!" you were exaggerating but whatever

- "I'D LET THEM TAKE YOU >:("

- you giggled since he was so cute when he's upset

- "alright alright, im sorry baby :3"

# 정원 [jungwon]

- you guys were playing with maeumi since the promotions for drunk daze were over and he wanted you to meet his dog DID U GUYS SEE HIS EN-LOG

- you both went to the rooftop to eat dinner

- and he was starting to get a little pouty that you were spending more time with maeumi

- you didn't even notice the pout until you went to back hug him while he was grilling the meat

- "bro why are you pouting hm?"

- HE GETS SO UPSET LMAO

- doesn't even give you the meat

- "bruh what's up with you today" you went to go sit next to him

- "am i a bro to you?????? you've been spending too much time with the members🙄" YOU BURSTED OUT LAUGHING

- "aw baby im so sorry" you give him a kiss on the cheek.

- "say ah" feeds you the meat bcs hes okay now :)

- "STOP FEEDING MAEUMI HE'S GONNA GET FAT. HE'S BEEN EATING ALL DAY"

- "he was asking for it :( i couldn't say no"

# 니키 [niki]

- you and him were just going live for dance jam

- and you guys were dancing so sweetly all the comments were like "I DONT KNOW WHO I WANT TO BE. RIKI OR Y/N" and some like "i love y/n and riki's relationship sm they're so cute :("

- some other time you guys would be chasing each other bcs ur both playfull lmao

- he was gently strangling you "bro change the song"

- everyone sees his 😦 face when u called him that and engenes were laughing. he shakes his head and was like 🤨??

- you didn’t even notice until you saw the comments “GO APOLOGIZE TO RIKI RIGHT NOW LMAO”

- he jokingly says “everyone you see how y/n treats me??”

- you laugh and give him a big hug “im sorry baby”

- “dance to gee and i’ll forgive you”

- he tries to hide his smile “that was kinda cute i guess”

- gives you another hug AND THE COMMENTS ARE GOING WILDDDDD

- “y/n’s been hanging out with the members way too often nowadays 🙄 am i even your boyfriend anymore?”