#i hold out hope nonetheless. maybe i'm setting myself up for disappointment but all i have in these trying times is hope 😭

[liinos]

it's a persistent trend in kpop that Pisses me off like why it it Always the worst song that seems to get the most attention

[teasinterests]

Could I humbly request #6 with IbaYuzu? 🥺

Maybe lee Ibara 'cause I'm so normal about him-

WAGH I actually surprisingly struggled thinking of a setting for this?! It’s way sweeter n softer than the last IbaYuzu fic but I still hope yew like it nonetheless!! 🥹 I actually switched the sentence a bit in the fic to have it make more sense but… ehe it checks out

————————————

Do it and die. ( #6 + IbaYuzu )

————————————

Characters: Yuzuru Fushimi & Ibara Saegusa

Ler! Yuzuru - Lee! Ibara

CW / TW: Tickles, swearing, and death threats

————————————

-

-

-

-

-

-

Currently the pair were wrapped up in a nice blanket and snuggled together. Compared to their typical stance, it would’ve been shocking to see their currently situation. Ibara seated on Yuzuru’s lap comfortably as the butler fiddled with his boyfriends hands. They both agreed to take off work for the day to relax and spend time together. So what better way to do that than watch a movie? Ibara had chosen it, some slasher film, Yuzuru had already seen it actually, but he didn’t tell his partner that. After all Ibara seemed so excited to share the film with him.. he didn’t want to be a disappointment.

With his chin rested atop Ibara’s shoulder, he’d occasionally nuzzle against pink(?) colored hair. They were both still getting used to sharing affection like this, but they both greatly enjoyed it nonetheless. Adjusting his glasses, Ibara smiled from the feel. All warm and cozy.. he almost wished he could fall asleep.. but the movie was just getting to the best part!

Though he was getting concerned with Yuzuru’s focus as he felt fingers lightly trail down his palm. It kinda tickled, and made his hand feel all tingly. So he pulled his hand away from the butler without a word.

Quirking a brow, Yuzuru side eyed his boyfriend before doing the same to the other hand. Lightly trailing a finger along Ibara’s palm until the shorter idol slapped at his hand.

“I moved my hand away for a reason didn’t I? Now quit it.”

The deputy director huffed as he crossed his arms. It really didn’t take much for the situation to click within Yuzuru’s brain, so, he simply smiled and rest his chin against Ibara’s shoulder once more.

“Of course.. How could I forget how sensitive you are?”

The taller idol responded with an amused tone. Just to draw closer and press his face to the side of Ibara’s neck. Whom of which was quick to tense in his place.

“Do it and you’re dead, Fushimi.”

The shorter idol practically hissed. Feeling his boyfriends smirk just against his neck, he already knew there was no getting out of this.. and with a few seconds later, Ibara was quick to burst into sudden laughter as Yuzuru blew a quick raspberry against the side of his partners neck.

“AAHAHAHAA?! TH-THAHAHATS IT! IHIHILL KIHIHILL YOHOHOU!!”

Ibara exclaimed as he tried falling off to the side to scramble away, yet Yuzuru was quick in wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. Keeping him in place to endure further tickling.

“Ah.. and I thought we grew past that. Maybe you are deserving of this then for being so cruel, Ibara.~”

Yuzuru practically spoke against his partners ear with a gentle tone. Ibara’s cheeks growing red, with Yuzuru’s fingers eagerly beginning to squeeze and skitter along his boyfriends sides.

“BAHAEHEHE WEeehehe werehe wahahatching ahaha mohohooviehehe!!”

The shorter idol exclaimed as he gripped at the others wrists. Beginning to start prying Yuzuru’s hands away before he was interrupted with another raspberry being given. A squeal of surprise, much to his embarrassment, was quick to leave Ibaras throat. Kicking his legs out as he tried protecting the side of his neck.

“STAHAHAHAHAP DAHAHAMMIT!!”

Yuzuru merely chuckled at this, seeing as to how Ibara was practically thrashing in his hold, he soon released his partner. Just to quickly grab the back of his shirt, as Ibara nearly threw himself forward upon release.

“Alright, alright, calm down now, Ibara.. haha, I can’t help myself all too much.~ Seeing you laugh and giggle like a child is quite sweet.”

The taller idol pointed out as Ibara flopped onto the side of the couch instead. Panting softly from the forced laughter, he sent a glare within his boyfriends direction. Whom of which was quick to hide a smile of amusement.

“Hahaha… so you think this is funny, huh?! We’ll see who’s laughing when I stab a knife into your gut!!”

“How gruesome… perhaps we should turn off the film..~”

“Wait-!! We just missed the best part though! And you missed it all!”

Ibara immediately sat up after the complaint. Just to turn and punch his partners shoulder before grabbing the remote.

“Fucking asshole.. we’re rewinding it, I don’t care what you say.”

“Haha, whatever you say, Ibara.~”

Yuzuru laughed as he poked at his boyfriends side. Only to grin as Ibara immediately turned to threaten Yuzuru with the remote.

“I’ll beat you with this. You think I wont??”

“Ah, no, i’m sure you will.~ Please do rewind it so I can see what i’ve missed.”

Smiling innocently, Ibara continued glaring towards Yuzuru. Just to turn back and begin rewinding the movie. Jolting as he felt hands placed against his sides once more.

“YUZURU—!”

“Settle down, Ibara. I’m simply returning your position.. you were quite warm all snuggled up on my lap like that. I hope you don’t hate me too much to end that?~”

The taller idol questioned as Ibara adjusted his glasses. An annoyed expression remaining upon his features.

“Hmph.. you’re lucky as hell, Yuzuru..”

Ibara muttered as he was pulled back onto his partners lap comfortably. Pressing play on the remote, the shorter one tossed it aside as Yuzuru brought the blankets around them once more. Comfy, warm, and cozy! Ibara was surprisingly quick to settle back against the other. When they weren’t arguing, or teasing each other, they looked like quite an adorable couple. Though in Yuzuru’s opinion, Ibara’s feistiness only added on to his charm.

[johnsamericano]

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥 •3•

I hope this ain't getting shitty. Thank you for reading, sexy people. Send me a message or an ask if you'd like to be added to the tag list.

warnings: hungover jaehyun, age gap, hospitals, nothing too extreme.

sugar rush m.list.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv @sunny-nyu @nanascupid @silent-potato @painted-hills

~

Yoonoh woke up on a strange bed, the mattress stiffer than the one he had back home. He refused to open his eyes, fearing that the daylight would worsen his headache.

Yoonoh woke up on a strange bed, the mattress stiffer than the one he had back home. He refused to open his eyes, fearing that the daylight would worsen his headache.

“Wake up, sunshine.” He groaned, all the memories from the past night hitting him like a truck. “Come on, I made breakfast.”

His eyelids finally fluttered open, frown softening at the sight of you in a messy bun and your cute pajamas.

“How come you look so fresh?” The dark circles under his eyes had deepened in the span of a few hours. Thank God he didn't have to work that day.

“I always look fresh.” You seemed to be more comfortable around him. Perhaps it was because you had to tuck him in last night. “Up.”

You tugged both of his limp hands, forcing him to sit up.

“What did you cook? It smells nice.” He scrunched up his nose like a little kid.

“Eggs, bacon, and hash browns.” Fast as lightning, he got up from bed. On his way to the kitchen, he noticed the blanket hanging from the edge of your sofa. Disappointment pinched his heart.

“Why didn't you sleep with me? You would've been more comfortable.”

You set two plates on the small table, pulling the pan out of the stove to serve them.

“You spread yourself all over the bed as soon as I laid you down.” You lied successfully. You didn’t have the heart to tell him you weren’t that comfortable yet.

You let the pan down on the kitchen counter, taking a seat in front of him.

“Do you still want to visit my father?” Sparkling orbs stared at him timidly, fearing his answer would be negative.

“I mean…” You hummed, trying not to give it as much importance. “I do want to go!” He quickly corrected himself, frantically shaking his hands. “It’s just that I don't want to meet your father like this.” He pointed at his bed hair, which had only become messier since he woke up.

“You’re acting like he's gonna see you.” There was a slight bitterness in your tone, along with a fake grin.

“Alright, let's do this instead...” Yoonoh sat up straight, clearing his throat as if he were about to give a speech. “We’ll have breakfast, you'll shower quickly, and then we’ll drive to my house so I can fix myself. How does that sound?”

“So I'm finally gonna see your mansion? How exciting.” You kicked his leg teasingly under the table, his cheeks inevitably dipping as he tried to suppress a smile. “I bet you have some peacocks in your backyard.”

“And there's also a dolphin in my pool.” He let out a hearty laugh, extending his arm over the table to grab your hand.

His house was most definitely not what you expected.

It was about the size of the one you grew up in, the decoration inside minimalistic. There were no expensive paintings framed with pure gold, only pictures of him and his family. There was a small backyard you could access through the French door in the kitchen. Half of it was occupied by a greenhouse.

“I had to donate the peacocks to the zoo.” He whispered as you looked through the glass door, squeezing your shoulders with his slim fingers.

“What a shame.” Hesitantly, he wrapped both of his limbs around your torso, letting his chin rest stop of your head. Your heartbeat was thumping loudly against your chest. Yoonoh surely felt it but decided not to comment on it.

“There’s a Tv in my room in case you want to watch something while I shower.” A hint of mischief adorned his honey-like voice. “Or you can come in and watch me instead.”

“Stop!” Your elbow connected with his ribs out of pure panic, making him bend in pain with his hands covering the injured spot.

“It was a joke...” He whispered, teeth gritting together.

I made him mad, you thought. Should you escape or face the consequences of his anger? All thoughts erased from your mind as he grabbed your calves, lifting you over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” You hit his back with closed fists, unable to see the expression on his face. “Yoonoh!”

He went up the stairs, proceeding to enter his room and throw you on his bed. Thousands of dirty scenarios crossed your mind before he threw himself on top of you, crushing your bones under his muscular body.

“My...ribs...”

“Oh, sorry, what is that?” To make matters worse, his fingers tickled your sides, provoking a fit of desperate giggles to escape your mouth. “I’m not hearing an apology.”

“Sorry! Sorry!” His hands finally stopped, giving you time to breathe. Nonetheless, he remained laid on your chest, using his forearms to lift his weight. “Aren’t you gonna shower?”

“I like you.”

The confession was so sudden, so raw it took you some time to finally react. But you had no words to give him an answer, instead, you combed your fingers through his long hair, massaging his scalp while waiting for him to speak up again.

“I never thought I'd be feeling more than friendly affection for you. Our agreement doesn't include love, after all. But I've started feeling like a teenager all over again. I can't help but get excited whenever you call me. Do you know how sweet your voice sounds through the phone?” He sighed, discouraged at your lack of response. “I guess you're not there yet.”

Instead of verbally answering, you planted a sweet kiss on his head, right where small, grey hairs had started growing.

“I’m not good with words.”

“That’s alright.” He snuck his hands under your back, holding you tightly as a sudden need to nurture you took over him. The mature image he had of you faded in less than a second, leaving behind a young, troubled woman. “I’ll shower quickly so we can go see your pops. I bet we’ll get along just fine, maybe even go golfing when he wakes up.”

“I forgot you're almost the same age. Creepy.” He smiled, though uneasiness started steering in his guts.

“Does that bother you?” He asked without giving it a second thought.

“I don't know yet.”

(...)

The man with high cheekbones and bruised skin laid limp on the hospital bed. Yoonoh had been working on his case for about a month, yet, it only started feeling real the moment he entered the room.

“This is my dad.” All emotions had escaped your eyes as if your soul wasn't there anymore. Only an empty shell.

“You look so much like him.” he was afraid touching you wouldn't be the right thing to do, so instead, he said: “He seems like a suitable golf buddy.”

Tension finally loosened its grip around his body as you snorted, pigment returning to your cheeks. Finally, he wrapped his hand around yours.

“He will wake up, y/n.”

“He’s taking his sweet time.” You glanced back at the laying figure, skinnier with every day he spent asleep. “I want someone to pay for taking away the last person that loved me.”

The last person that loved you. Would Yoonoh be able to fill that spot? Not yet, probably. He couldn't modify the depth of his feelings, but he could surely give you the vengeance you longed.

“Do you trust me?” With your eyes still glued to your father, you nodded. “Then I can assure you we’ll win the case.”

“I know we will.”

He sat silently with you, holding your hand without saying a word. The smell of alcohol and the beeping noise of machines made him nauseous. He hated hospitals. You noticed the change in his demeanor, his hand becoming cold while holding yours with strength.

“Do you wanna go?”

“No!” He smiled through the pain, scooting his chair closer to lay your hand on his lap.

He wouldn't agree to get his ass off the plastic chair. You had to tell him you were hungry for him to finally stand up, still clutching your hand like your father did when you were still a kid. His parental behavior caused several emotions to stir inside your guts, so mixed up you couldn't quite put a finger on any of them.

“What do you want to eat?” The tension finally left his body once out of the building.

“Soup.” You smiled while swiping your thumb on top of his knuckles. “I know a place, but to be honest, it isn't good. So we can go to the store and get the ingredients to- but you can't cook.”

“I’m up for a cooking lesson if you are.” He wanted to see your pretty smile again. Maybe making a fool of himself would help. “Let’s hit the road.”

“Wow, so cool.”

“I know.”

(...)

“Can you grab that can of chicken broth?” You pointed at the high shelf, letting go of Yoonoh’s hand to allow him to move freely

“I have a better idea.” He dragged you by the arm so you were standing in front of him, trapped between his body and the shelf. “I’ll lift you so you can reach it.” Matching his words, his hands grasped your waist, ready to carry you.

“Stop!” You slapped his hands repeatedly between giggles. Ignoring your complaints, he started lifting you. “Yoonoh!”

“Yoonoh?” A feminine voice had him placing you back on your feet in less than a second.

“Seryeong, I didn't expect to see you here.” His hands remained seated on the curve of your waist.

“Neither did I. I was surprised when Sungchan told me you'd left early yesterday.” She seemed a bit older than you but still younger than the man behind you.

“I had some matters to take care of.” She eyed you from head to toes with a smug grin plastered on her lips. Just by the look of her clothes, you could tell she was as wealthy as Yoonoh. You feared the scene would turn into a tv worthy drama.

“I’ll go get the chicken breast.” You tried escaping his grip, only to be pulled closer to his warmth.

“No need to. It's already inside the cart.”

Why am I so dumb?

“Does your father know about your little girlfriend?” She asked without hesitation.

“I guess.”

“And why didn't he tell me anything?” She cocked an eyebrow, his hands finally loosening around your body and allowing you to move from your position.

“Look, this is something you should talk about with him. Now, if you excuse us...” With a hand on your shoulder, he began pushing the cart to the next aisle, the chicken broth long forgotten.

“Is this some kind of arranged marriage situation?”

“Something like that.” His hands were tense while holding the cart, knuckles turning white from the strength used. “Before you start asking, I'm not really in the mood and I don't want to direct my bad mood toward you. Let's talk about something else, alright?”

Who was that woman that had the power to turn him into a literal raging ball of fire with just a few words?

[lesbiansouplol]

A Very Upset Rant At 4 am Even Though I Have To Get Up Early Tomorrow.

“The fact is, you’re a terrible person. Not because of the choices you make, not even because you repeat the choices you make, but because not once have you apologized for actions that were clearly unacceptable by the standards of society."

NOTE: I was very, very upset when I wrote this. To be honest I've written stuff like this a lot, just angry rants to myself, but I'm hoping maybe if I put it somewhere someone can see, it would help me feel like I actually got my feelings out, instead of just deleting a whole page of writing.

TW: An*rexia mentions, S*lf h*rm mentions, and several mentions of a toxic/manipulative parent/parent figure. please take care of yourselves.

I know this is dumb and I’ll probably delete it later, but I really need to get this off my chest.

My entire life, I don’t think you’ve listened to me. I was admittedly a brat as a child, but the fact that you still don’t see me as a person on the same level as you is frustrating to say the least.

I’ve tried to have adult conversations with you, I’ve tried to reach out in a friendly way so we can be closer, and I’ve tried coming to you seeking guidance when I felt lost.

But every single time I was met with the wall you’ve built around yourself.

A wall of defensiveness, pain, and intolerance.

Seeking a friend, you didn’t have time.

Seeking guidance, it was entirely my fault.

Seeking to be heard, I was shut out.

“Why don’t you talk to me about anything? My job is to help you.” I’m sorry for the inconvenience but that is a full time job. You don’t get to pick and choose when I need help with something so you can come to the rescue, and you don’t get to put my problems on hold for when you feel ready to handle them.

You don’t listen, and then complain that your children don’t listen to you.

You don’t help, and then complain about how we never help.

We are a reflection of you, and you hate us.

A narcissist? Maybe. Depressed? Possibly. But a hypocrite nonetheless.

Your self loathing goes so deep that you’ve projected it onto us in every fit of rage, not even caring how that might affect us.

Clearly, everything that goes wrong is our faults, nothing could be yours.

You’re always right.

You scream, and yell, and throw things. You’ve called me useless more times than I can count, you’ve told me I don’t care about anything, and that I’m selfish.

Even though all I’ve cared about for the past 15 fucking years was trying desperately to not disappoint you.

But I did disappoint you, didn’t I? I disappointed myself, setting my standards higher and higher until I couldn’t breathe under the weight.

But you enjoyed that, didn’t you? “Why can’t you be more like your sister?” you used me as a weapon against those I loved, but I loved you too much to not revel in the fact that you noticed me.

Again and again I watched my siblings spiral, eventually accepting they wouldn’t ever be good enough to please you. But I was late to the game.

I was so close to getting your affection.

So close to being someone you’d be proud of.

So I pushed, and pushed, and I stopped eating, and I bled, and I worked harder, and I drowned.

You held my head underwater promising love if I could get to the surface without making you let go.

And now I’m left alone, in the middle of the night, praying to a god that you’ve forced me to believe in, hoping you won’t hear my sobs through the thin walls.

I’m broken, and I’m picking up the scattered pieces of dreams and opportunities you didn’t quite approve of.

I’m mourning the lost money, experiences, and happiness you had me throw into the wind without reason.

And I’m not free yet, I have a ways to go before the forest clears and I can admire the sheer beauty of the life I will create for myself.

But the first step was moving past you, so…

Goodbye, Mother. I wish you the best.

Sincerely, your daughter.

[imagine-that-haikyuu]

Hey, I was wondering if I could have scenarios with tsukki, oikawa, and noya helping their s/o get over losing one of their best friends? I'm having a hard time myself with this and your writing is also amazing so I thought I'd ask~

i’m so sorry that it took me so long to get to this. i’m the queen of getting friend-dumped so i know exactly how tough it is. i hope since you’ve sent this in, you’ve been able to find happiness and grow closer to the other friends you have and that if you have, that these don’t dredge up any bad feelings

i’m looking for new admins to run this blog with me! details are here for anyone interested

if you like what i do and want to show your support, consider supporting me on ko-fi!

Tsukishima

“I think you understand, ____, why we’ve reached this point.”

It’s time. You’d been anticipating this for a while, it was just a matter of how it would happen.

The sun starts to set when they say this. Club activities concluded a little while ago, and though you’d normally bid your friend a goodbye and walk home with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, today was different. Instead, the two of you loitered around the sports club rooms while you waited for the boys. You made a seat out of the stairwell while you friend stood, arms crossed over their chest.

Your silence and downcast gaze is answer enough for them to elaborate. “I don’t know how I can continue to be your friend if I barely see you outside of school. And texts and phone calls don’t cut it. The only person you spend time with anymore is Tsukishima.”

Another silent moment passes. You let out a sigh.

“This is the part where you’re supposed to apologize,” they say, hostility dripping from their tone.

You shake your head. “I’m not going to apologize for something I’m not sorry about. I knew that this was coming, but I didn’t expect it would happen for this reason.” You stand up and adjust the bag hanging from your shoulder. “The only thing I am sorry about is that you don’t understand why your reasoning is so messed up.”

As you walk away with your head down,  your negative thoughts fester. You were right, though: the only reason you’d spend more time with Tsukishima than them outside of school was because you didn’t get to see him all that much during the day. He wasn’t in your class while your friend was; the two of you were in the same club while Tsukishima was at volleyball practice. It only seemed fair that you’d be able to see your boyfriend when your free time matched up with his. If you were to count hours spent together outside of school, then yes, he occupied more of that time. But overall, the person you once called your friend had beat out Tsukishima by a decent amount. And you still made a good effort to communicate with them even when you couldn’t see them.

You don’t get very far from them before you stop walking. There’s a person standing before you, not moving. This whole clichéd setup brings a bitter smile to your face when you stop staring at the ground and see who it is. Of course it’s Tsukishima.

“Let’s go home,” you say quietly.

He doesn’t reply, and doesn’t move right away when you do. You don’t see, but you can only guess he gives the other person a cold glare before turning and easily meeting your stride. The walk home is quiet, marked by the distinct lack of Yamaguchi and the sour mood hanging around you. You decide to ask about the former.

“He had something he needed to do, so he went ahead,” Tsukishima says.

“You’re a bad liar, you know that? He saw it too, didn’t he?”

He lets out a sigh somewhere between frustrated and disappointed. It was nice that Yamaguchi wanted to give you to some space to digest what unfolded, but it still stung knowing that he had seen it too. You look to Tsukishima; he’s concentrating on the path ahead, but you can tell that this whole thing has irritated him enough.

“It’s okay, you can ask about it.”

Tsukishima raises an eyebrow but his focus remains ahead of him.

“You look like you want to ask me about it,” you explain.

“Not really…” he murmurs. “You look like you don’t want to talk about it.”

You shrug your shoulders half-heartedly. Something about this action is the final tipping point. You didn’t think you were going to cry, and yet tears flooded your vision as you tried to hold them back. This is the first time you’ve cried in front of him, and you feel ashamed when he looks at you almost curiously. You turn your head away as if it’s going to make a difference.

“But if or when you do, I’ll listen.”

Maybe it’s because there’s no one else around to see it, or maybe it’s because he knows it’ll give you some comfort while you try to sort this out, but either way, when Tsukishima takes your hand in his, you smile.

Oikawa

for most of the afternoon, you’ve been staring almost angry at the worn embroidery floss around your wrist. Oikawa notes that you tend to concentrate on it when you think he isn’t looking. Sometimes, you’ll slip a hooked finger underneath the bracelet and tug. He wonders if you’re testing its durability or purposefully trying to rip it.

Whatever vibrant colors the threads were, are now faded and browned from the elements.

You let out a heavy sigh and pull on the bracelet again. Nothing happens.

“Can I use your scissors?” you ask. There’s something exhausted in your voice and it’s hoarse. Oikawa hums and shuts his eyes.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he says. The small yet playful smile on his lips is far too cheerful against the heavy mood lingering over you.

“It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter anyway.” You move your hand to tug at the bracelet once more, only to be met by Oikawa’s slender fingers wrapping around your wrist. It doesn’t take much effort on his part to stop you from your ministrations. Before he can say anything, you murmur, “It didn’t mean anything.”

He remembers asking you about the bracelet when you first met. Your face brightened when you explained to him that you and your best friend made them when you were kids and still wore them to the day. 

This is the first time Oikawa’s seen you look anything but happy regarding it.

You sniffle once and exhale shakily. He lets go, but your eyes remain focused on your wrist. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes and a few spill out.  Though your vision is blurry, you can see him stand and step in the direction of his desk. When he returns, he places the scissors on the table before you.

It was never a question earlier in the day: you wanted lose the bracelet forever. Now that he’s given you the power to cut it off, you hesitate.

“It’s because it would really be the end, right?” he asks. “Something that’s lasted so long can be ruined in one quick snip?”

It’s almost unfair how perceptive he is.

“It’s your choice, but look how tattered and dull it is.”  He takes your hands in his, runs his thumbs over the back of yours. Now he looks at it with the same concentrated contempt that you looked at it with before. “____, you deserve much better than this.”

His words alleviate any second thoughts you have. Oikawa lets go of your hands so you can take the scissors and finally get rid of the gross, old threads. With a small snip, it drops from your wrist and lands limp on the table. The tears fall harder, but something about this is so... freeing. And you find a smile make its way to your face. You turn back to Oikawa and wrap your arms around his neck, and bury your face into to his chest.

“You look so much better already.”

Nishinoya

Nishinoya lets out a breath through his nose, eyebrows furrowed together.

“Who the hell does that? Just says to their best friend that they don’t want to be friends anymore without any explanation?” he snarls.

You’re seated on your bed, hugging your knees, with Nishinoya right next to you. He has been for the past hour while the person you called your best friend decided to cut you out of their life and through text, nonetheless. You know that his words are supposed to be comforting, but somehow they only make you feel worse. While he’s getting fired up, you can only hug your knees closer and fight back the tears.

“Well, everyone says that if you need to cut someone out of your life you don’t owe them an explanation,” you say, voice trembling.

The whole matter still confuses you. Just last week, while the two of you walked home from school together like always, laughing about something that happened in class, they said that they were so glad you were friends. You can’t help but wonder if that was some sort of test, and your response was the deciding factor if they wanted to still be your best friend. You know you said the same for them--it warmed you inside that they brought  it up--but maybe that wasn’t enough.

“If that person was shitty to them, then yeah. But everyone else knows you’re awesome!” he jerks a thumb at his chest. “Especially me. Because I’m not just your boyfriend. I’m also your best friend, and I call it like I see it.”

His words cut right through you. Even though Nishinoya would never say something he didn’t mean when it came to this, you can’t help but cry. When you tuck your head in against your knees to hide your tears, you feel his arm drape around your shoulder.

“They’re the shitty one, ____. Not you,” he says. His voice is markedly much softer. “Considering how torn up you are about this and how they couldn’t even say it to your face is proof enough.”

“I know but--”

“Nope! No ‘but’s’! And I’ll keep telling you how great you are until you’re sick of hearing it.”

You lift your head up enough to look at him. He’s got on his reassuring smile. It’s surprisingly contagious even in your current state, so you can’t help but smile too.

He’s really good at that.