#i wish i knew how to make funny text posts rip me

[captainsjack]

something something jack harkness is the reason why masturbating is called “jacking off”

[harrysgoldenline]

When In Italy Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

He remembered your order.

It was all you could think about after you sat down, a waitress coming quickly to your table and he gave you a look, asking you if that’s what you wanted. You gave a small nod and you refrained from commenting on it, not wanting to stroke his already enlarged ego you are sure has only gotten big since you have seen him last based on… well everything.

The waitress thanked you both, taking your menus and leaving the two of you alone, giving one another an awkward smile before you looked down at your hands, now regretting pretending to not know what to order in order to hide behind your menu a bit more.

“So…” Harry began, fingers drumming onto the table, “how have you been?”

You let out an airy laugh, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow before leaning back in the woven dining chair, warm Italian sun hitting your face as you looked out at the view and back to him, not even sure what to say. You, obviously, were not doing great and he was.

You open your mouth to start to answer but stop when the waitress comes back, placing the cool, water glasses in front of you and they quickly become interesting as you watch the condensation drop down from the glass onto the table.

“Y/n…” Harry began, looking up at you and sighing when your eyes met, “Can you talk to me? I just want to see what you’ve been up to.”

“What about you?” You counter, heart pounding against your chest, “I feel like you’re the one who needs to check in and share some updates more than anyone else, don’t you think?”

“I guess I deserve that.” He chuckled, taking a sip of water and looking at you over the glass causing you to scoff.

“I’m glad you think it’s funny.” you glare, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to calm your pounding heart, “really makes the whole situation better.”

“Okay, you’re right, I’m sorry,” He nodded, holding his hands up in defense, “but I didn’t know you were going to be there, I would have never brought her if I would have known that, obviously and I’m sorry it happened this way but I’m glad I saw you, I’m glad to see you.”

“Who is she?”

He looked surprised by your question, not expecting you to rip the band-aid off in the way that you did. But, you knew him. Better than anyone you’ve ever known in your life and you couldn’t understand why he was beating around the bush like this so much. You also needed this for yourself, not wanting to fall for his famous charm, looking into those beautiful, jade eyes you knew you would be done for.

It’s the reason your sitting across from at this table at all, not being able to resist his smile, his sot, caring voice as he asked you to see him, having no idea what you would be getting into all, you said yes without any hesitation and you decided in that moment, watching as he went around the clear high priority topic with ease.

“Her name is Olivia.” He sighed, “she’s the director of the movie I’m going to be in and…”

“You’re together?”

He didn’t answer, looking at his hands.

You nodded, taking his silence as the clear answer and you bit your bottom lip hard, tasting blood as your teeth sunk into the flesh, hoping the pain would stop the tears that were stinging your eyes. You could feel your hands shake and you let out a sigh, standing up from the table and running your hands over your skirt, frustrated he didn’t even have the nerve to come out and simply say it.

“I-I’m going to go,” You began to ramble, looking down at the water glass and you dug through your bag, looking for money to pay for your meal and tip the waitress, even though it wasn’t yet served to you, eyes burning as you did your best to keep in your tears.

“Please stay.” He whispered and you shook your head rapidly, pulling out your wallet and looking for a big enough bill, “Okay, let me just drive you back, put your wallet away this is on me.I asked you to come.” He added, pulling out his wallet and laying down a more than generous amount.

“No, please.” You whispered, stepping back as you stepped closer to you, “just, stay. Take my food with you. I’m gonna book a flight home and you guys can have the house to yourselves by tomorrow night.”

“Y/n-”

“Goodbye, Harry.”

You ignored his calls of your name, walking down the pavestone as you made your way through the quaint town, passing the many boutiques and gelato shops you two went through a dozen times.You also did your best to ignore the longing look of pity as you passed by the strangers, thankful your italian wasn’t as good as his, that way you didn’t have to also hear what they were saying about you.

You wandered your way through the beautiful village, wishing it brought you the same amount of joy as it always did, but not it just left you a bitter taste in your mouth, reaching for your phone and calling for a cab, looking up flights the second the car pulled up.

***

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of your alarm, heart wrenching at the realization that all of this was real and you fist rubbed your swollen eyes, sniffling as you sat up and the details all came back to you.

“He found someone else already.” you had sobbed into the phone to your best friend, clutching at your chest as your back was against the front door. “He already moved on, y/bff/n and he brought her here and-and… I-I got a flight home and I just don’t know what to do.”

You were beginning to hyperventilate, mind being unable to wrap around the fact that he had moved on so quickly, the man you thought you were going to marry, being together for years, had already moved on to someone else.

Your best friend had done her best to calm you, begging you to let them fly there to help get your things together, to at least meet you at a connecting flight so you weren’t flying home completely alone, but you didn’t allow it, knowing how much trouble they would get into with their boss.

“I’ll be there to pick you up.” they told you, after a long pause, their heart was breaking at the sound of your cries, “You’re gonna make it through this, y/n. I know you are.”

You weakly stumbled out of bed, walking straight to the closet and, once again, pulling your bags out and throwing them onto the bed, throwing your all clothes into a messy pile and zipping up the bag, pushing it into the hallway after quickly changed into a clean outfit, slipping on a pair of sneakers as you got ready for your flight home.

Forcing yourself to brush your teeth and run a comb through your hair was harder than you had ever imagined, hating to have to look at your reflection as the face of her was being compared side by side in your mind. You hated yourself more for wishing that Harry tried a little harder, wishing that he had ran after you and tried to at least explain more, extend the olive branch so to speak, even though it would never fully heal your wounds.

Your anxious mind wouldn’t stop reliving your morning with Harry and you couldn’t help but have regrets, wondering if you overreacted, wondering what would have happened if you stayed for the rest of the meal.

Could you ever be friends?

Pushing yourself away from the counter you hoped that the thoughts would subside, wishing you knew the answers but knowing you never would. You shuffled your way into the living room, curling up on the couch as you waited for the car to come pick you up and take you to the airport, not having the energy to reach to pick up the remote so you sat in silence.

Although it felt like minutes, an hour soon passed and you heard the knock at the door and you forced yourself up, grabbing your suitcase and wheeling it behind you as you opened the door, being greeted by the driver who took your suitcase from you and loaded it into the car as you followed behind, finding your place in the backseat.

The time went faster than you thought it would, the drive to the airports, the security line, flights, layovers, all of it. The next thing you knew you were walking down the steps of the airport, seeing the face of your best friend and running towards them, dropping your suitcase in the process as they quickly took you in their arms, holding you as tight as they could.

“I got you.” They whispered, rubbing your back as your tears sunk into the fabric of the fabric covering their shoulder, “I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart. You’re gonna be okay, I promise.”

“How do you know?” you horsley whispered, “my heart hurts so much.”

“I know, I know.” They whispered back, pulling back and looking you into the eyes, giving you a smile and wiping away your tears, “It’s going to be okay, I promise. You are an incredible human being, y/n, you are so unbelievably strong andI know that you can do this and I’m going to be there for you every single step of the way, okay?. ”

And they were.

Being there for you every single step of the way for the next two weeks since you got back from your trip and even moved into your apartment with you for a few days at first as you adjusted. Holding you every single time that you cried, always checking in and making sure that you were taking care of yourself and always being there for you to talk about everything, even though you weren’t quite ready yet, they were there for you when you were going to be and you couldn’t have been more thankful for that.

Now, after a couple weeks of healing, after your plummet on your journey of healing post break up, you felt like you were back on your way up. You started leaving your apartment more again and y/bff/n even got you to go out with them and a couple of friends one night.

Actually starting to feel better and even starting to feel a lot more like yourself.

Your phone buzzed and you quickly took a look down at it, seeing a text from y/bff/n

Be there soon! i can't wait to try out this new coffee place!

You smiled and sent back your quick reply, letting her know you were going to head downstairs touching up your makeup quickly as you looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled back at your reflection, seeing the glow and fullness starting to come back to your face, the circles under your eyes slowly disappearing more and more everyday.

Grabbing your purse off the kitchen counter and sliding on your shoes you got ready to leave your apartment, heading out the door and locking the door behind you, jiggling the handle to endure it was locked before turning on your heel to head out. You go to reach for the elevator button, but it dings as it announces its arrival and you step out of the way, allowing whatever neighbor to have a clear path to their apartment. Instead, you're met with a pair of familiar green eyes.

“Harry?”

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[peachsayshi]

Chapter 10 - Intimate (2)

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Angst, Fluff 

Summary: Gojo uses you to relieve some of his stress after his little argument with your best friend, and poses a question that catches you off guard.

A/N: this chapter was a bit difficult for me to write and I think it's because it turned out to be sort of a filler chapter! Also, please excuse any errors - I am definitely posting this half asleep lol! but I am really excited to share the upcoming ones! I initially said that this was going to be 25 chapters but I outlined the rest of the story and there will be more! Hehe I do plan on doing the few extra one-shots in the end, so I hope you enjoy.

- - - 

“Tell me you’re mine…”  

You blushed at the thought of Satoru’s words, painfully aware of the knot that tightened in the pit of your stomach which then tugged at your lungs, slowing your breath. You reached for the seasoning packets, ripping open the colored wrappers to prepare the ramen broth. You watched as tiny circles began to form from the bottom of the metal pot, bubbling it’s way to the surface. You could hear the shower still running from your bathroom, a bit relieved that Gojo was taking his time because you wanted to bask in the few precious minutes you had to yourself to try and quieten your racing thoughts.

You couldn’t focus on the task of preparing dinner because the word “mine” slipping from Gojo’s lips in a feverish claim was playing on a loop in your head. The way his tone darkened with urgency when he held his body close to yours sent goosebumps to run up your arms. You couldn’t figure out where the possessive streak came from or why he felt the need to assert his dominance over an act that should not have been as intimate as it felt. You folded your arms over your chest, subconsciously pinching your skin as you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

There was a difference when you made your own personal comparisons in the safety of your mind versus Gojo bringing it up in the bedroom. Somehow admitting your confession to him made you feel vulnerable and his reaction didn’t make it any  better, appearing to be competitive about the entire situation.

That doesn’t make any sense, why would he care? you wondered.

You never actually paid attention to how Gojo felt about your ex-boyfriend. For the most part he’s always been nice to him. Although the two of them weren’t the closest of friends, they seemed to get along whenever you all hung out together. You never would have anticipated that Gojo would be…

Jealous of him ?

That he would resent him?

Honestly, you didn’t even have an explanation for what it could possibly mean.

“ Pay attention…”

Gojo’s voice startled you, you didn’t even realise he was standing right behind you until you noticed him reach his arm forward to reduce the flame, stopping the water from bubbling over the pot.

“Whoops! Lost my train of thought for a second...” you lied, refusing to look in his direction in the hopes that he wouldn’t catch you blushing.

“That’s a safety hazard, you know?” he teased, still standing dangerously close behind you as he reached for the dry noodles himself and placed them into the pot. “You need sharp eyes when cooking otherwise you’ll end up having an unnecessary accident.”

A nervous chuckle escaped you as you circled to face him. Gojo had borrowed one of your black silk scarves, using it as a makeshift blindfold since his own was now tumbled between your bedsheets on the floor. You could smell your coconut and hibiscus body wash off him, the scent combining with the residual cologne on his clothes. An easy smile spread across that handsome face, his relaxed demeanor contrasting the state he was in when he first knocked on your door.

He’s your friend, you reminded yourself. What happens in the bedroom doesn’t mean anything…  

It shouldn’t mean anything.  

“Whatever you say, sensei ...” you chirped, burying your wayward thoughts. “Why don’t you grab those mats and I’ll bring these over to the table”

You assembled the two bowls, adding a little extra broth for Gojo because you knew he preferred it that way. Meanwhile, he had placed the two mats on the opposite side of the dining table, taking care not to disturb your work set up.

“Here you go,” you said, as you slid the bowl in front of him while he took his seat.

“Thank you!”

At first you both sat in silence, Gojo was responding to a few unanswered text messages but you were studying him with curious eyes, waiting for him to give you an explanation for his sudden visit.

“ Sooo, you want to tell me what that was all about?” you asked.

“That being?”

You waved your chopsticks in the direction of your bedroom, raising your brow before replying, “That being the sequence of events that just transpired…”

“ Stress relief ...” Gojo explained in between bites as he casually tucked his phone back into his pocket.

You thrummed your fingers against the warm bowl in your hands, fidgeting with the chopsticks in the other.  “Well, I’m glad I could help you unwind, I guess...”

He flashed you a wicked grin, “Me too, because I need a repeat of the show...”

“I can’t look at you when you say that,” you remarked, focusing your attention onto the noodles and growing shy at his comment.

“Am I embarrassing you?”

“A little…”

“I don’t understand why, that was fucking hot ...”

Your face burned, the heat radiating all the way to the back of your neck from his words. You cleared your throat as you rolled your eyes at him, desperately trying to brush off his statement in a cool manner. You could feel the knot in your stomach, the thoughts you were having crept back into your mind as you tried to hush them away.

You decided to shift the conversation away from the bedroom and back to Gojo instead. If he wasn’t so flustered by his own emotions, you might have accepted his excuse of needing to relieve stress but you knew there was more to the story.

“Did something happen at work?” you questioned.

Gojo chuckled to himself, “It’s funny how you won’t even acknowledge my compliment... ”

“Are you really going to make me pry a proper answer out of you?” you huffed, and he could hear your annoyance in your tone.

Gojo wished that he didn’t have to get into this particular part of the conversation with you, knowing full well how it was going to bring down the mood.

“No, nothing happened at work,” he said with a sigh, “I was with Rina. She asked me to stop by her shop…”

You knitted your brows in confusion, “That’s kind of random.”

Gojo nodded his head, “I thought so too. She initially told me that she wanted to get my opinion on some new items she was dropping for her menu. Turns out I was only there because she wanted to know how long you and I have been sleeping together for…”

You choked at his statement, his nonchalant words nearly going over your head.

Gojo kept eating, unphased by your reaction. “Need some water?”

“Y-yes…no, ugh, nevermind …she asked you how …”

“ How long you and I have been fucking… ” Gojo replied, flicking his index finger back between you both to fully clarify his statement.

The knot in your stomach cinched, a wave of nausea swirling in your gut as you placed your chopsticks down.

“How... how did she even find out? ” you whispered to yourself as you slumped against the back of your chair.

“She saw us at the park.”

“ Oh .”

You and Rina have both had your fair share of arguments before but sometimes when her emotions got the better of her, Rina’s outbursts often came with her sharp tongue. Over the years you had to explain to her that her words carried more weight than she thought, and in turn she became more conscious around you. However it suddenly dawned on you that Gojo might have been on the receiving end of Rina’s unfiltered anger.

You covered your face with your hands, groaning with frustration. “What did she say?”

“ Hmm ?”

“What did Rina say to you?”

Gojo shrugged his shoulders, “don’t worry about what she said to me. I know she didn’t mean anything by it...”

“But you were upset when you got here…”

“Let’s clarify something, Rina was upset because she was hurt. I was just annoyed by the situation. There’s a difference...”

You wished he would take your conversation a little more seriously and not brush it off with such ease but sighed knowing full well that Gojo wasn’t going to tell you what exactly happened which meant that Rina must have said something deliberately hurtful towards him.

“ I’m sorry… ”

“Why are you apologizing?”

You picked up your utensils, “For dragging you into this unnecessary drama I started. I should have just told Rina what was going on between us…”

Gojo paused after slurping a noodle, “well, why didn’t you tell her?”

“She’s been overprotective recently… ” you explained, not wanting to get into the details that the reason was purely based on your break up and how terrible you have been about getting over it. “I knew that if I told her about our arrangement she would analyze me to death over it and I didn’t want to deal with that…”

“Fair point,” Gojo acknowledged with a hum.

His short responses unsettled you, and you found yourself overcompensating to make up for it. “I’ll talk to her and smooth things over and I’ll make sure she apologizes for whatever it is that she said to you. She shouldn’t take her frustration out on you just because she was upset with me...”

Gojo nodded his head but you could clearly sense that he was not in the mood for any serious conversations right now. Taking himself out of this particular topic, Gojo quickly changed the subject after you made your last statement.

He kept the rest of the chat lighthearted, distracting your worries by telling you little anecdotes he had about his co-worker, Nanami. You suddenly found yourself giggling when Gojo revealed that he practically stalked Nanami for an entire day just so he could force the man to hang out him.

“I feel bad for the poor guy, you completely terrorize him,” you stated, clearing the table once you were both done eating.

You made your way over back to your kitchen where you rinsed off the bowls before placing it in the dishwasher. “You’re free to hang out if you want,” you offered, noticing Gojo get himself together as he was preparing to leave.

“I think I distracted you enough for tonight,” he replied.

You walked him to the door, following in line with his long strides. Just as he was about to reach the handle of your front door, he stopped before turning to face you.

“You don’t owe anyone an explanation about what is going on between us,” he stated, his voice low and serious.

You blinked a couple of times in surprise before parting your lips to respond, “I know I don't owe anyone an explanation but I know what Rina’s feeling and the only way I can see myself fixing this problem is by telling her everything. We never keep secrets from each other and I would probably be equally as hurt if she chose to hide something from me too... ”

Gojo pressed his lips together, navigating the words floating in his mind before reaching his hand out to touch your fingers.

“I get it but I just…”

“ Just ?...”

He exhaled, “I don’t want you overthinking anything between us, okay?”

“Don’t worry, even though we are terrible at sticking to our own rules, I am fully aware of where we both stand…”

You notice the relief wash over Gojo’s face as he slips his fingers away from your touch, “Good, because I like what we are doing.”

“I-I like it too…” you replied almost instantly, your heart racing at your own admittance.

The sorcerer left you a bundle of nerves when he said his goodbye. The knot in your stomach made its presence known, twining itself around your insides as you couldn’t escape this foreign emotion that seemed to have infiltrated your body.

*** 

CHAPTER 11 - FRIENDS

[koreanmadeingreece]

Why, why, why (3)

University student!Yuta x reader

Genre: slight enemies to lovers au, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and several mixups

Summary: You just got into uni and decided to move in with your childhood friend!Taeyong at the city where you are going to study. As you’re about to start your new, adult life, you meet his friends, and you realize that not everyone likes you. Nakamoto Yuta in particular almost seems like he hates you.

A/N: In this fic, Jonghyun from NU’EST appears for a while (just to avoid confusion). Also, wow I never thought I’d post this. I hope you guys like it. Also I thought I’d update every Sunday but I couldn’t restrain myself. Welp. 

Warnings: n/a

Word count: 1.8K (I should let you know that I’ve finished writing it so I’ll update it every 3 or 4 days!)

Part 3/I don’t remember First / Previous / Next

Taglist: @melitadala @chxotickpoptrash (please let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

When you entered the house, V ran into your arms for an embrace, calling you his savior, as you had just brought the food, which made the others laugh. When you reassured them again that you were okay with treating them, you all sat down in your freshly cleaned living room to eat. 

That was when you noticed Yuta sitting a bit further than the others, eating quietly, and decided to come a bit closer to him.

“You’re not very talkative, are you?” You tried to joke around since no one would listen to you. The others were arguing about one of the professors at uni and if he’s single, so they wouldn’t even notice you switching places. 

“Oh, sorry, it was just that I was thinking about something. It shouldn’t make you worry, really,” he answered.

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t talked to me all day. I mean, I know you just met me this morning and that I’m not your friend, but I’d love to get to know you a bit better.” 

“I’m okay with that, don’t worry about me. I’m just paranoid sometimes and I’m thinking a bit too much about certain things, so just ignore me when I do that, okay?”

“So, we’re off to a good start, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess you can say that.” He smiled at you. This was the second smile he had offered you ever since this morning, and it kind of made you light up a bit. You still didn’t know what made you so interested in him. You just had to get to know him. 

The next day was similar to the first, as you had to finish cleaning and start unpacking both yours and Taeyong’s things and decorate the living room. Thankfully, Taeyong didn’t have a much different taste than yours, so it was actually easy to decide what you’d hang on the walls and what color the couch pillows would be. The biggest issue was your rooms and what you’d do with them. 

You took the boxes with your stuff and Johnny immediately came to help, offering to also help you with your room. V followed you and Yuta went to help Taeyong. You enjoyed their company a lot if you were going to be completely honest, and you secretly thought they’d let you join them sometimes. You really thought you weren’t a burden for them, as they’ve been friends for years and you just came to disrupt their lives. You’d never even think of causing a problem to them, so you waited patiently for any signs that would show you how they felt about you. There was just one thing you had to ask.

“So, how did you guys meet?” you asked, as you were placing your clothes in the closet.

“Do you mean us two, or…”

“All of you. How did you become like… a group?” 

“Ah, funny story,” V said, “I got into a fight on my first day of uni. Someone just came straight to me and called me names because I was zoning out, and Johnny with Taeyong came to my rescue.”

“Aw, they’re true heroes,” you laughed.

“Something like that. Taeyong and Johnny met right there in front of me, and then we all decided to go to lunch together. Then Yuta came. Taeyong had met him a few hours earlier and told him to go to lunch with him, so we all sat together. And we clicked.” 

Johnny nodded in agreement and gave you a stack of clothes to put away, while V was telling the story from your bed. You hadn’t put the sheets on it yet, so it was only a mattress, but it worked well for him. 

“I don’t know if I should be asking this but are Taeyong and Yuta that close? I mean, he doesn’t tell me much over the phone, and with all the stuff going on because of the house we haven’t really talked yet,” you asked.

“They’re close. They’re not together if that’s what you’re asking. They’re just really good friends. If you ask me, we make a great group. It’s just that he always was a bit more protective over Taeyong, but Yuta’s definitely straight. If he wasn’t I’m sure they’d already been together by now,” Johnny told you and you continued putting clothes away, when Johnny interrupted your thoughts. “Don’t mind him. He might seem a bit distant, but he’ll open up eventually. It’s probably that you’ve been friends with Taeyong for so long and he feels kind of left out.”

“Oh my god, have I done anything like that?”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. He was thinking about it ever since he found out you’d move with Taeyong but, trust me, you haven’t done anything. I mean, you didn’t make any of us feel bad. You’re actually fun to be around. You can come to hang out with us whenever you want, okay?” Johnny’s words were music to your ears. What you were hoping for was coming true. Your new life had officially started taking its form, and you were ecstatic about it. 

Your house was finally ready, your posters were on the walls and your clothes were in the closet. After you made your bed and had V try it out, you could finally sit and enjoy it.

“Did you call your mom? She’s probably scared to death that she just let you handle a new house on our own,” Taeyong told you after the guys left.

“I did and I also sent her pictures. She’s thrilled.”

“Your dad?”

“Mom said he just nodded. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” You sat on the couch next to Taeyong.

“He doesn’t get really involved, does he?”

“Only when he’s in the mood. Which happens about… five times a year?”

“Sucks to be you.”

“Yeah, especially when he missed my gymnastics performance.” You took a bite of your sandwich. 

“Well, now you’re here. If he doesn’t want to lose you, he has some work to do. Now, will you give me a bite?” And that was how the evening passed with Taeyong. You were calm, relaxed and it was exactly how you imagined it to be. All you had to worry about for the time being was the first day of uni. 

You woke up the next morning and looked too pale to be human, as you had barely managed to sleep last night. You got dressed in one of your favorite outfits, a loose red shirt and black ripped jeans, and washed your face before putting some mascara and lipstick on. When Taeyong confirmed you looked hot, you were ready to go. Taeyong left you outside of the building of your first class and left for his class.

You went inside and found a seat not too close to the professor, and soon after, you noticed a tall guy approaching you and taking the seat next to you.

“First day, huh?” he asked you. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I’m kind of stressed too. What’s your name, by the way?”

“I’m Yugyeom. It’s nice to meet you.” He extended his arm to you for a handshake. 

“I’m Y/N.” And that was your first acquaintance. He seemed really nice. Kind, at least. You liked him at a first glance. He turned to speak to you quite a few times during our first class, but he didn’t annoy you. He was quite pleasant to be around. 

After a while, you heard someone enter the room, stumbling on the stairs. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” he said and took the seat next to you, on the opposite side of Yugyeom. “Was I too loud?” he whispered to you. 

“No, don’t worry about it. No one’s going to remember it tomorrow anyway,” you smiled at him. 

“I hope so. And, if they do, at least I made them laugh.” He smiled back. “I’m Chan.”

“I’m Y/N and this is Yugyeom,” you said and shook hands with him as well.

When the first class was over, you headed to the other classroom for the next period and sat next to the two boys you had just met. They were extremely fun to be with, especially Chan, who was a walking mess and extremely clumsy. 

You suggested going for coffee after class, so you texted Taeyong not to pick you up and walked next to Chan and Yugyeom, who knew a nice coffee shop around the corner. You found a table and sat down when you saw a guy approaching your table. 

“Hey, Yugyeom, wasn’t he sitting close to us in class?”

“Now that you mention it, yeah. Should we tell him to sit with us?” And, before you could even answer, Yugyeom was already standing up from his chair. “Hey! Wanna sit with us?”

“Uh, sure.”

“We saw you in class, we’re not creeps, I promise,” you reassured him. “This is Yugyeom and this is Chan.”

“I’m BamBam.”

“BamBam?” Chan asked. “Is it a nickname?”

“Yeah, I’m from Thailand and no one actually remembers my real name, so I use this one instead.”

“Oh, that’s so interesting!” Yugyeom was amazed and started talking to BamBam nonstop, which he didn’t seem to mind, so you just talked to Chan until Yugyeom’s rant ended.

“Would you like to order?” The waiter interrupted you. He was standing next to your table for a while, but no one had noticed him.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said and turned towards him, as he was standing beside you. That was when you noticed how hot he looked and, right after everyone ordered, you turned to Chan. “I don’t know if you’re gay, straight, or anything else, but that one was hot as fuck.”

“I’m bi, and yes he was. You should ask for his number.”

“Chan, I’m not that bold.”

“Yeah, but you have nothing to lose. Look, we can send you to pay when we’re done, so you can talk to him without us there. That doesn’t involve any flirting, right?”

“Fine. Give me your money, y’all.” The other two guys turned to you in shock, but Chan promised to explain while you were gone. So, you got up and walked towards the register. 

“Hi,” you told him. When he turned towards you, you deeply wished you hadn’t agreed to this. He was too handsome for you to handle.

“Ah, they sent you to pay?” He laughed.

“Yeah, they did.” You paused and contemplated if you should continue the conversation when your thoughts were interrupted.

“Um, I’m sorry if it’s weird to ask, but what’s your name.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“Ah, that’s a beautiful name. I’m Jonghyun. Do you happen to go to uni here?”

“Yeah, film major. This is my first year. What about you?”

“Me too! But I’m in the third year.” He smiled at you, but he was called to a table and had to go. “You should come by again tomorrow. I can treat you to a cup of warm coffee. My shift ends at 6.”

[all-might-can-smash-me]

New Girl

Keigo Takami/Hawks x reader

Summary: You run into prohero Hawks while on night patrol for the agency that took you in after recently graduating from UA

Masterlist

You were fresh out of the hero course of UA and you just simply couldn’t believe it. It all felt so surreal, like it was still all just a big lucid dream you would have as a child with a mind that would yearn to be a hero. It was real though, all those tough years in UA and training got you here. You may have just been a sidekick in a smaller agency, but it was more than you had ever hoped for with your quirk. You see, you were a hair hero, your hair would go to almost an infinite length and you would use it like a capturing weapon, but you couldn’t retract it. With that downside, everyone saw your quirk as troublesome, not wanting to mess with the cleanup of hair after a fight. Though an agency showed an interest from the start and guided you through your job shadowing and your hero work studies, helping you make a name for yourself and even offering you a job once you graduated.

Though with being a newbie at the agency, you usually got placed on night patrol. You were fine with it though, honestly, you expected that with you being a new member of the agency. Sometimes you wished you didn’t though because it was quite frightening. Shadows would trick your eyes, cats jumping from alleyways would startle you. Tonight you just couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you though as you slowed your pace down, footsteps now softer as you tried to listen. There...a soft flutter, like a bird. You could hear it coming up from behind you. No time was spared as your hair was clutched within your hands, spinning to quickly whip it towards the sound above you, but it only dodged, so you continued your attacks until finally it landed next to a lamp post a few feet away from where you stood. You sighed in relief as you finally got a good look at the other, hands releasing the hair that you gripped on.

You knew exactly who he was, you didn’t even need an introduction for the hero that now stood a bit ahead of you. Everyone in Japan new his image and name. Hawks was an icon amongst the people. Plus he was handsome, hard to miss that face on the news and gossip magazines.

“You! How dare you sneak up on me like that!” You shouted as you caught your breath and tried to subside the trembles of fear that plagued your body. The pro hero non other than Hawks only smugly stood in front of you, leaning against the lamp post letting out a laugh.

“Sorry sweet heart, just wanted to swoop by and see who the new girl is, but nobody warned me that the she was a feisty one.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders as his wings boredly ruffled and shook themselves out.

“Damn...” you spat out as you finally managed to calm yourself down a bit, eyes finally looking to your hair that trailed around you on the ground, branching out in so many directions. “Look what you made me do...you know, it isn’t easy to gather all this up.” You grumbled out as you let the toe of your boot nudge up against a pile of your hair.

“Ah...well....” he groaned as he squatted down, gloved hand grabbing a handful of your hair to bring it up to his face to examine it. “At least it looked cool, you actually had me shaking in my boots for a sec, I recommend you get some night visiom eyewear for late hour patrols” He stood up, hand still messing with the hair in his hands. “You would have honestly probably have gotten me if it weren’t for you probably not being able to see in this lighting.” With that he looked up to the lamp post. Though you only gave a click of your tongue as your hands shot to the belt that hugged your hips, the sound of Velcro ripping followed and soon you had a pair of scissors in your hand.

“Yeah? Well you still could have been nice and helped me avoid this by not sneaking up on me” You pointed out to the other, soon making your way up to him, trying not to trip over your own hair, and offered him the scissors. “Well since you got me in this mess, why don’t you help me out” Hawks hesitantly grabbed the scissors from your hands, slowly walking behind you. A gloved hand went to pull your hair, with the help of your too, all to your backside.

“Right here fine?” He asked, fingers gently rubbing the length that he was referencing across your back. You tried not to let the shiver you felt from that touch show as you nodded your head, a gentle flush on your cheeks as he began to snip away as neatly as he could, soon handed you back the scissors.

“That’s better....” you said with a sigh of relief as you ran your fingers through the new length of your hair, your head already feeling 10 times lighter. The scissors were soon placed back in their designated pouch at your hip, your hands now beginning to gather up the hair that stretch across the area you stood in. Hawks stood there for a second before letting out a sigh before bending over himself, now beginning to help you gather the hair as well from the ground.

“Damn! What do you do with all this?” He exclaimed as the two of you finally managed to clear the area of hair. “This stuff is heavy!” He said as he moved his arms up and down to get a good feel o for weight it had made within his arms.

“Well....I usually just throw it or donate it, but I donate pretty frequently anyway.” You explained as you led him up to a nearby trash can where you dumped your bundle in there, Hawks following right after you. Your quirk may have seemed simple, but dang, with all that hair he was impressed that your scalp didn’t rip off under all that weight.

“Donate it often? Good girl...” he said with a smirk as he looked to the trash that was almost completely filled with hair. On the other hand your cheeks began to feel hotter at his words, your arms crossing over your chest with a huff.

“Why you had to be weird though? Sneaking up behind me like that....” You said as you scrapped your shoes against the pavement below. “That was scary! Plus it’s dark!” You continues on as you leaned against the lamp post, watching Hawks saunter up to you with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Eh? Flying up behind you to see what’s up is weird?” He asked with a raised brow, wings now stretch out “I thought flying around was pretty normal honestly....or have I just been lying to myself all these years?” He said with a playful pout as his wings rested back down, leaving you to only roll your eyes as you played with a piece of your hair that fell over your shoulder.

“Oh har har...” you said as you began to braid the bit of hair that you were playing with, the smirk upon Hawks’ face only growing as he watched you and listened to your response. He liked your more every second it seemed.

“I’m funny right? I try to be.” He said with a grin, a hand making a quick swoop over his messy hair. Though he quickly went to pressing his hands over the pockets of his jacket and pants before finally pulling out a pen, handing it over to you. “Though I’m not trying to be funny now, I would like your number though....you know....so I can warn you next time I’ll be swooping in.” He said with a wink “Ok now that was suppose to funny, but you get the gist.” Hawks said with a chuckle. After a few seconds of a pause, you let out a sigh before finally taking the pen from his hands, your own hands grabbing one of his arms to roll up the jacket sleeve and begin scribbling down your phone number and possibly a name.

“There, hopefully you will remember to warn me since I’m guessing you really are a bird brain.” You said with a small smirk upon your lips as you handed the pen back, which he gave off a playful pout as he grabbed the pen from you and shoved it away.

“Ouch....that hurt....that really hurt...” he spoke dramatically as his wings began to flap, lifting him up from the ground “I’ll see you some other time though....or maybe your hair, who knows!” He called down as he was soon zipping through the night sky. It didn’t take long for him to swoop down on the balcony of his apartment, stepping though the unlocked sliding door into his apartment, speaking up for his Alexa device to turn on the lights. Slipping off his shoes and tossing his jacket aside, he tossed himself onto the couch in his living room, phone whipped out and in his hands, eyes now searching for the number on his arm. Though he let out a laugh as he saw the number and the words ‘for Mr.Not Really Funny’ written besides it.

He still couldn’t stop laughing as he added your number and sent a simple winky face emoji to you. He had a feeling you would know exactly what number was texting you just by looking at that....

[ayellowcurtain]

And Sander is dared to walk to the edge of the ledge by his mates....sander is not really the athletic type but his ego! So he does but Robbe watches from where he is with his friends..and sees sander might be dizzy and all and he goes and pulls him over .. cos yk nobody else dares to its too high n narrow 

there is a character called Cassie who had leaked nudes and videos posted by ex manipulative boyfriends at school. Like, when Robbe starts dating Sander who has no idea about it, he is scared that once he finds out he will leave him, but then Sander confronts him telling him he doesn't care about it and that Robbe shouldn't let this define him

It’s a very cold night, Robbe wishes Moyo’s car had a heater that worked but at least is small enough where the air doesn’t get too cold when they have the windows up.

Robbe doesn’t even know why he bothered to leave his warm and comfortable home to be here, sitting inside Moyo’s old car, staring at a bunch of dumb guys trying to find a way to go up this old and rotten, improvised wooden ledge. It feels and looks like it was made to burn a bunch of witches centuries ago and someone forgot to take it down.

He knows why he came but it’s just stupid. Sander asked him to come and Robbe still hasn’t found a way for his unconscious to not want to be around Sander all the time. They haven’t talked in a few days, Robbe left him on read but Sander still texted him and asked him to come so they could see each other.

It’s almost cold enough to snow and freeze every surface, Robbe can only hope those beams are steady enough, not too slippery.

They could be outside, drinking and talking to the cool, older guys from their school but after all the gossip, Robbe prefers to keep a distance, not sure who knows about it and how much.

Things were still very fresh and uncertain between them before Robbe decided to drop the bomb and get it over with, he doesn’t even know what being in an actual relationship is but he felt like he needed to put everything out before Sander could even think about making things official. Exactly because it was out of his hands.

It was a heavy secret to carry and it was out anyway, not because he wanted to. Even months after everything, a lot of people still look over their shoulders when walking by him. And Robbe knows it’s still a subject every time someone has to explain who he is. Instead of talking about his full name, his friends, his appearance to make someone remember him, they talk about that stupid video and their memories light up like firework.

It’s funny, Robbe feels like his ego, his confidence, self-love, everything was burned down like witches were a day in the past.

“I’m stupid and even I think that’s a stupid idea,” Moyo comments sitting next to him on the driver’s seat and Robbe blinks, sitting a little more comfortably, looking at Moyo, eating popcorn like this is an actual show.

They were starving on their way here, Jens and Aaron had surprisingly better things to do so it’s just the two of them. And they had no cash in them so Robbe brought some popcorns he made while waiting for Moyo and Moyo brought them some cheap beers he had sitting inside his fridge. It’s not bad, Robbe likes spending time with Moyo after everything they went through, after spending lots and lots of days walking around the city, talking about everything, they understood each other better and Robbe knew Moyo didn’t mean his words and Robbe knew he wasn’t the best either, pushing Sander out of his home like that a month ago.

Sander is the last one to climb, clearly the least athletic one of his group of friends, but he’s not finding it hard either. Robbe is almost sure he’s just bored, finding no fun in working out without meaning to but being too competitive and an adrenaline junkie not to try.

“Would you do it?”

Moyo stops eating and Robbe looks at him and Moyo is already staring at him, laughing at his face.

“Bro, I just said it’s a dumb idea. Of course I wouldn’t do it!”

Robbe opens his first beer of this cold Friday night, hoping to get at least some buzz out of it. He puts it back down in between the seat to adjust his jacket first, zipping it all the way up to his jaw.

“I can’t believe your boyfriend is doing it.”

Robbe sighs, staring from afar, recognizing only the black silhouette and the white hair contrasting his clothes now that they’re up higher, almost at the top.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” He whispers and it doesn’t go unnoticed in his insecure brain how Moyo laughs quietly, back to eating popcorn.

“Yeah, he is. You are afraid to talk to him but one thing has nothing to do with the other.”

Robbe grabs his beer again, needing to push himself forward on the seat as he follows them on their last pull to the top. He can see Sander clearly again once he’s at the top and it looks so stupidly high. The boys celebrate and hug each other and kind of push each other and it makes Robbe feel nauseous just looking at them.

“I don’t want to see anyone dying tonight, bro.” Moyo’s concerning voice makes all the red flags jump to the forefront and Robbe searches for his phone, his talk with Sander down the list since he hasn’t really replied to many of Sander’s texts since he found out about the leaked video.

He starts typing but that seems stupid. Sander won’t stop his competition with his friends to answer a text so Robbe decides to call him, ignoring how his friends are around him, able to hear who’s calling.

Robbe sees Sander tapping his jeans and finally grabbing his phone, accepting the call.

“Hello.” He says like he’s being formal and Robbe rolls his eyes, talking low even if it doesn’t matter, Moyo will hear them anyway.

“Hi…”

“Talk about an unexpected call.” Robbe can hear the familiar teasing in Sander’s voice and he can’t control how it makes him blush, even from afar, around a bunch of people.

“What are you doing up there?”

“Admiring the view, I guess.”

“This sounds like a dumb idea. It’s freezing cold, the wood is probably rotten and slippery.”

“Are you scared for me, Robbe?” He can see Sander walking down a slimmer ledge that nobody else tries to go down and Robbe wishes he could punch him right now.

“I don’t want you to die, no.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m not! I’m just genuinely curious. It’s not like you’ve been answering much of my texts and suddenly you’re worried I’ll die if I fall here. It’s not a big fall, if that makes you more comfortable, it’ll be quick.” Sander comes back to the place where his friends are, a tiny area where the beams are closer together and Robbe can hear in the background them challenging Sander to go somewhere else that sounds dangerous already.

“Don’t say that. Please, just come down already. I’m sure there’s not much to do there, not much room either.”

“You wanna come to see? It’s beautiful.”

“No, Sander. I want you to stop being stupid, that’s all.”

Sander sighs on the other side and Robbe can see him looking up at the blue sky, no clouds at sight.

“You are extremely boring.”

“Maybe I am.”

“And very cute too.” Robbe doesn’t answer that one, hearing Moyo snort next to him and he’s sure Sander’s friends are having similar reactions, “I’m coming down in a second. Can we talk then?”

“There’s not much to talk about.”

“You know there is.”

Robbe looks at Moyo carefully. He knows about the stupid video, everyone knows, of course, but it’s not like Robbe wants to mention it ever again in front of anyone, ever. But he needs to talk to Sander about it at some point because he was the one to start the conversation, ripping the band-aid off at once was the idea at the time, and if that’s what will make Sander come down, then Robbe will do it.

He opens the door and leaves the car, the freezing cold air taking his breath away as he leans against the window from the back seat, feeling it freezing him almost instantly even through many layers of thick clothes.

“Okay. If you come down, we’ll talk.”

Sander sighs again, “Finally.”

He ends the call, talking with his friends again and as Robbe sits back inside the old car, rubbing his hands against his thighs, he finally sees Sander coming back down carefully before anyone else.

“Do you want me to leave?” Moyo asks after a long, weird silence. Robbe looks at him like Moyo just punched him in the face.

“What? No! You brought me here!”

“Because you asked!” Moyo says just as surprised.

“Moyo, please don’t leave. I’m just going to talk to him and we’ll go if you want.”

Moyo sighs, shrugging, grabbing another beer, “Okay...whatever you say, bro.”

Robbe feels himself getting more nervous, his mouth completely dry, his hands freezing cold but still sweaty no matter how much he runs his palms through his jeans.

Sander is finally on the ground after what feels like forever, safe and with no injuries, walking to the car feels like he’s in a movie scene, Robbe sees him like he’s walking in slow motion.

“I’ll be right back.” He jumps out of the car before Sander can have the opportunity to interact with Moyo even through the window.

Sander looks different, taller, his hair a little longer, with the dark roots getting out of control but Robbe thinks he prefers it like this and the difference is from the lack of dates between them in the past week or so. Not that he has to like any difference.

“Hi…” He curses when his voice breaks a little bit, too low and Sander smiles at the corner of his lips.

“Hello.”

Robbe nods his head, looking around, just the huge clearing around them, the pine trees a couple of dozens of meters down the road. Sander doesn’t say anything, just starts walking away from the car to give them some privacy and Robbe decides that’s a good idea, walking with him.

He thought so much about this: the first time they would have an actual conversation, face to face, what he would say, what he could say to explain how a video of him is now public property, how Sander would think differently of him now and have a whole new idea of who Robbe is based on what he did. He would think Robbe is easy and stupidly horny and...so fucking dumb. And Robbe is none of that. Maybe stupid, but what bothers him so much is how who he is is now completely ignored because of what people will judge of him and of his character for having a sex tape leaked without his consent.

He feels like crying all over again so he stops thinking about it or he’ll have another panic attack right here and that’s the only thing that could make this situation even worse.

“So…” Sander clears his throat and Robbe jumps a little, realizing he should be the one talking, that Sander is giving him all the space he wants to tell his side of the story and Robbe is just unable to explain what happened and how he ended up in such a terrible situation.

“I’m sorry.” He ends up with that, and his voice sounds too low and broken again and Robbe just gives up completely, turning back around to go home but Sander follows him quickly, stopping in front of him.

“Robbe. I want to hear you.”

“There’s nothing to say, Sander! I trusted someone I shouldn’t. I had cyber sex with a fucking idiot and now everyone knows how dumb I am, and apparently how good or bad I’m in bed.”

“Hey, hey.” Sander puts his heavy hands on Robbe’s shoulders, them being the only things keeping Robbe in place, standing on his own legs, “Breath for a second.”

He does as he’s told without noticing, trying to even his breath, keeping them slower and slower and longer as he calms back down.

“You trusted an asshole and it doesn’t make you the bad person in the situation, Robbe. He was a fucking piece of shit, not you. This is not about you. I don’t care about that stupid video.”

Robbe heard these words before, I don’t care about it but it never feels like it doesn’t matter. No matter how little people care, they all already know, they all probably watched it and they already formed opinions about him and who he is without knowing him.  

“If you need someone to go to the police with, I’ll go with you, I’ll testify, anything that they might need.”

Robbe puts his hands on his face, trying to control his breathing again and Sander stands closer, not hugging him but close enough where his presence gives Robbe some peace.

“Can we not talk about this?”

They’re close enough that Robbe feels when Sander nods his head, his hands quietly squeezing Robbe’s shoulders.

“Of course. I just want to talk to you, about anything. And you’re not even giving me the chance.”

Robbe sighs, putting his hands down slowly, looking back at Sander.

“I’m clearly a mess, I don’t know if I can keep a conversation these days.”

Sander smiles softly.

“We can not talk then. Just sit across the table from each other at a restaurant or something, eat in silence. We can go to my or your place if you’re more comfortable that way. Again, eating in silence. I’ll even let you pick what we’ll eat.”

“Why do you care so much?”

Sander sighs loudly, looking up, searching for his answer again in the sky, the universe around them, spinning and spinning around nonstop.

“I don’t know but I do.”

Robbe stands on his tiptoes, hugging Sander with no second intention, just needing to be held for a second without feeling like he’s been taking advantage of.

“I have roommates.”

Sander snorts, “They’ll probably be weirded out because I keep flirting with you constantly but I don’t have any issues doing it in front of them.”

Robbe shakes his head, stepping back from Sander, liking how his hands stay on Robbe’s waist for a little longer.

“I won’t torture you to spend too much time with Milan but just...they’ll probably be home, just not in the same room.”

Sander nods his head, agreeing with Robbe’s only rule.

“That’s fine by me.”

[bbrandy2002]

Fools Rush In

Part 4

Series: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x OC (Riley)

Previous chapters can be found here.

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine, the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. As a drunken night, he finds himself with way more than he bargained for.

MC did not exist in Liam’s social season. OC Riley Brooks lives in Las Vegas.

A/N: No wacky drabble for this one. Went a wee bit over and couldn’t cut. Oh well...there’s always next time. This is an 18+ series.

A/N: The lyrics to the song Maxwell sings comes from a Tik Tok video that was shared with me and the idea to include it in this is not my own hahahaha I will post the link to the video in comments to give the maker proper credit and just in case anyone wants to actually watch it. I thought it was funny..

Thanks @burnsoslow for beta reading and all of my lovely pre-readers.

Warning: Mention of STD’s

Permanent Tags: @emceesynonymroll @romanticatheart-posts @burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @drakesensworld @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @pedudley @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @desireepow-1986 @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @blueaster-blog1 @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @twinkleallnight @annekebbphotography @txemrn

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Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.

____________

All Riley wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower, snuggle up in a blanket on the couch with a Lifetime movie, and carry on with the rest of her life. 

She'd had this crazy but exciting night out with a fantastic guy. They had a little too much to drink and woke up the next morning to find they were married to each other.  

And she wasn't just married to anyone. No, it had to be the King of a small European country she'd never heard of before. 

That's not something that just happened to everyone. 

Depending on how one viewed her circumstances she was either the luckiest or unluckiest woman in all of Vegas. 

If she were a betting person, she'd place money on the latter.

Riley stood at the penthouse door, engaged in a stare down with the blonde-haired obstacle blocking the exit. 

In front of her was a woman wearing a black and white fur coat, a strand of pearls that hung loosely around her neck, and an impudent scowl. 

If evil were a lady, Riley surmised she was looking at her.

Madeleine's green eyes bore agitation and scorn as she studied the petite figure she recognized from the dozens of photos that bombarded her text messages. 

"You must be the bimbo who thinks she will steal my crown and title."

"Excuse me?" Riley's eyes narrowed, not knowing who she was speaking to, but could already tell she didn’t care to know.

Leo stepped up protectively behind Riley and growled at the countess. "Go away, Madeleine! How many times do we have to tell you the dalmatians aren't for sale?"

"You wish I were here for dalmatians," Madeleine sneered. "Now, out of my way, heathens." 

She pushed her way past the two and stalked inside while Mara shuffled behind. She removed her cashmere gloves and took notice of her fiance with his back pressed against the bar top, one legs crossed over the other, and sipping casually on his scotch.

Liam tipped the glass to his lips as if he didn't have a care in the world and swallowed. "Can I offer you a glass of wine, dear? Or a cronut? Perhaps a ride to the middle of the desert to be left for dead?"

"That's quite alright," Madeleine quipped as she ripped the glass out of Liam's hand and slammed it down on the bar. "But maybe you'd like to first explain why I have been inundated with one message after the next telling me you were married to this ..." She motioned her hand toward Riley with derision. "This ... bitch?"

Liam paused as if he were thinking about it, then shook his head. "No. Not really." She's not a bitch ... she's amazing. He wondered why he couldn't say that out loud.

Stunned, Riley looked up at Leo in disbelief. "Did she really just call me a bitch? She doesn't even know me."

Leo nodded with a compassionate smile on his face, then pulled her further inside and shut the door. 

He wasn't about to let her go now.

Liam grabbed his drink, pushed himself off the bar, and strolled to the center of the room. He could feel Madeleine's icy glare following his every movement. The King hoped his flippant attitude was enough to penetrate deep into her frozen exterior and piss her off even more. "I thought you were in New York, Mads. 8 million people in that city for you to torment, and you still make time to hop on your broomstick and find me. I have to say … I'm touched."

Madeleine shot him a dirty look. "Do you have any idea what I've been through because of what you did last night?"

He shrugged. "Nope, and I don't care."

"Well, you're going to care when I tell you everything that happened." She disregarded the audible groan and eye roll from him as she began her diatribe of offenses. "I had just settled in for the night when I get a message from that simpleton, Penelope, telling me what you did. I tried to call you, but apparently, you and the rest of your entourage of losers blocked my number. So I had this incompetent boob of a guard you hired for me book the first flight out here.

“When I got to JFK, I was detained and strip-searched because someone falsely alerted authorities claiming I was a Colombian drug lord, only in the U.S. to sell cocaine and hypodermic needles to children --"

Leo snorted. 

Liam curled his lips into a devilish grin, knowing exactly who did it. He glanced subtly to Mara, who winked back at him.

"Are you even listening to me, Liam? As if that nightmare wasn't horrid enough, I find out Mara booked coach class … COACH! Coach is so beneath someone like me. There were babies and old people and sodas. But the worst was when we finally arrived here; they strip-searched me again. I had to get my own baggage and ride in one of those god-awful smelly shuttle vans to this hotel. And do you know why I had to do all of that? Because you're a complete moron, Liam. The people of Cordonia are laughing at you; you know that, right? I always knew you would be a total embarrassment and fuck up, but this is beyond anything I imagined."

A downcast expression was plastered on Liam's face as he stared down at the drink in his shaky hand. Those words stung -- “a total embarrassment and fuck up.” In his mind, he felt she was right. He had let down even his own expectation of himself and the reputation of the monarchy.

There was nothing to do but stand there and stew in silence.

But Riley wouldn’t.

She shrugged Leo's hand from her shoulder and spun Madeleine around by the arm to face her. "Is this what you do? You go around insulting everyone and being a first-class bitch? I will have you know, Liam is not any of those things. He's the kindest, sweetest man I've ever met. And it's no wonder he looked so miserable last night at the club. I couldn't understand why at first, but now ... now it all makes sense. Did you ever stop to think that maybe if you weren't such a fucking cunt, he wouldn't have been drinking so much and been so willing to accept the company of another woman?"

Liam felt his heart twinge. Riley had every right to be upset with him, and he felt guilty for putting her in this situation. But there she was, defending him. God, she was hot.

Madeleine guffawed. "How cute. You've got your little whore taking up for you now."

"That's enough!" Liam's eyes landed sharply on her. Before he could stop himself, the next few words sprang from his lips as naturally as his breath. "You will not speak to my wife -- your Queen -- like that again, or so help me I will charge you where you stand for treason against the Crown. Do I make myself clear?"

Riley's eyes rounded, unsure of what to say or do at that moment.

Leo loudly cheered and pumped his fist in the air. 

Liam stood his ground as he glowered back at his slack-jawed, now ex-fiancee.

Madeleine couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You can't be serious? We are getting married in two weeks. I'm going to be the Queen!" Her tone was one of anger and desperation.

He laughed wryly in her face. "Not anymore." 

He looked past a stunned Madeleine to the heedless guard smirking behind her. "Mara, please see to it that the countess returns to the airport and doesn't disturb us again."

She agreed and led a vociferously-protesting Madeleine toward the doorway.

"You'll regret this, Liam. You'll both pay for this travesty!" 

"Use the taser on her, Mara!" Leo bounced with excitement as he followed them and opened the door. He handed the guard a $100 bill as she walked by and whispered, "Make sure they strip search her again. A bonus if they need double gloves and lube."

"You got it, boss."

Leo slammed the door and clapped. "Ding-dong, the witch is gone! So. Do you need help packing, sis? We still have a couple of hours before we go back to Cordonia. That should be enough time to gather some things."

Riley stammered, looking between the two men, completely dumbfounded by what just took place.

Liam noticed. He knew what he said to Madeleine about her being his wife and Queen was most likely awkward for her. 

They didn't know each other; it was a fact, he continued to remind himself.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. "Uh, Riley ... I just want you to know ... I only said that stuff because of Madeleine ..."

"Oh, yes. Of course. I knew that." She chuckled nervously and waved her hand. "But what about your engagement?"

"Yeah, Liam. You gotta have a queen." Leo clapped the back of one hand against the palm of the other and exclaimed, "Dem's da rules."

Liam shook his head and carried his empty glass to the open kitchen. "I know that, Leo. But I will not ask Riley to give up her life here just to help me clean up my mess. She deserves better than that."

Riley crossed her arms on the counter that looked into the kitchen, watching Liam get a bottled water from the fridge. "What happens if you don't have a Queen?"

Liam twisted the cap and gave a half-shrug. "I don't have a choice. I'll have to marry Madeleine." The words stung his lips.

"But she's so pissed at you right now."

He chuckled. "That won't stop her. She wants the crown, and that's it."

Riley could see the sadness in his eyes, the same sadness she saw last night in the club where they first met. "You'll be miserable with her, though," she muttered wistfully.

He nodded, regret written on his face. "Yeah."

Riley stood silent; she weighed the pros and cons of such a massive uprooting.  Her life had been slightly stalled and bland for the last few years. Las Vegas was her getaway to a new life from New York, where she left behind both regrets and failed relationships. And yet ... this new place wasn't everything she told herself it would be.

She looked at Liam and felt her heart break. She understood him more than he realized. 

But ... to be a Queen?

Riley inhaled deeply and prepared to speak up when Liam's phone rang.

He placed the cap on his water, sat it on the counter, and lifted his phone from the pocket of his shorts. "It's Maxwell," he called out.

Leo rushed to him. "Put it on speaker, Li!"

"Maxwell, I have you on speaker. Leo and Riley are with me. How's Drake?"

"He's in the pharmacy, and I'm standing outside getting air. It's going to take a while to amass all the medication and creams he needs."

The brothers looked at each other with wide eyes. Riley covered her mouth to prevent the chuckle that threatened to escape. "I think I'll give you guys some privacy. I'll just be in the bathroom."

Liam nodded and turned his attention back to the call. "Is it really that bad, Max? I mean, I think we know what he has."

"Dudes, I don't think you can even begin to guess half the shit Drake's got."

"You gotta tell us what the Drakester has, Max."

"I'm not really supposed to say." 

They could hear the hesitation in his voice. It was almost like he wanted to tell them, but needed a little more coaxing.

"Maxwell," Liam spoke. "If Drake doesn't want us to know, then you should probably keep it to yourself ... for now."

"I did kind of write a song about everything he was diagnosed with for a TikTok video. Drake only said not to tell anyone. He never said I couldn't sing about it."

Leo nodded his head. "Agreed. Sing that song, Beaumont."

They could hear Maxwell shuffle further away from what sounded like a crowded street. 

"Okay, the coast is clear," Maxwell said as he took a deep breath. The boys hugged their ears against Liam's cell phone. 

"Drake just left the clinic, and I'm afraid its bad news. 

So now I'm singing this song about it hoping it gets views. 

Don't know how he's still alive. 

Or how he survived. 

The doctor said he's got five ... nasty STIs. 

He's got some in his balls … got some in his ass.

And what's worse is his curly pubes are crawling with crabs. 

He's got herpes! From a booty call! 

He's got syphilis …now his dick is raw.

He's got chlamydia … And it's so sore.

And he doesn't even know where he got genital warts." 

Liam pressed two fingers into both sides of his temples while he stared blankly at his phone. "Un - believable."

Leo swiped the tears from his eyes and made no attempts to hide the giant smile curling his lips or his overwhelming giddiness. "I've never been more proud of the Drakester than I am at this moment. He actually beat me out on this one. Gotta say ... I don't mind losing to him this time."

“Liam. Leo. I gotta go; Drake’s on his way out. See ya back at the hotel.”

Leo went to the refrigerator to search for a snack, pulling out a leftover pizza. “Ya know, we should probably warn the maid she may need to get a haz-mat team before cleaning Drake’s room.”

Riley rounded the corner. “I hope everything is okay with your friend.”

Liam smiled. “That’s very kind of you say. He’ll be fine … I think.”

She fidgeted with her bracelet and glanced over at Leo placing a slice of cold pizza on top of another slice and taking a large bite. “Leo, I hate to ask while you’re eating … again. But would you mind if I spoke to your brother for a moment? Privately.”

Leo chewed quickly while shaking his head. He swallowed hard. “Sure. I needed to use the shitter, anyway. Pinquee Kittee’s casserole isn’t sitting too well in the Leo tummy.” He grabbed the pizza box and headed for the bathroom.

Liam looked curiously at Riley, not able to read her expression or have any clue what she would want to talk about. “You needed to speak with me?”

She nodded. “Yeah. About our marriage ...”

[kotsuvi]

a month of sundays - part two

pairing: nishinoya x fem!reader (slight oikawa x reader later on)

summary: in a period of stress and tight scheduling, kiyoko asks you to step up as manager for the boy’s volleyball team until she can get back on her feet.  words: 3.4k warnings: swearing, small bit of angst

a/n: this is my third time trying to post this and i’m slightly perturbed. i also really want to work on the mafia fic AND a smau so... we’ll see how things go. 

series masterlist

Kiyoko told Coach Ukai that you had accepted the position, and he was relieved nonetheless. Apparently he assumed you--for whatever reason--were going to say no--which you were--, and he had been panicking to find a replacement. But you hadn’t denied, to both his shock and yours. “Damn,” you mumbled to yourself as you started towards the main gym building. You had changed into your athletic-wear back at home, and although the sun was warm against your back, the breeze was cool, sending goosebumps down your warms. You wished that you had brought a sweater. 

It was your first early morning practice with the boys--your first practice as manager. The thought still terrified you, and as you pushed on those heavy double doors, you reevaluated exactly how good of a situation you were getting in, or how bad. “Heads!” Tanaka shrieked as soon as you stepped inside the gym, and you ducked last minute, narrowly missing the yellow and blue volleyball that rocketed past your head.  “Wanting to obliterate me already?” You straightened, brushing your hair out of your eyes to spot the culprit. The ball bounced off the wall, then skittered across the floor, landing at the feet of a very flustered Asahi. His face reddened as he picked it up. “I’m so sorry!” He exclaimed, his face pinching up in concern. Sugawara chuckled behind him as he practiced his sets, the ball seeming to float above his fingertips.  You laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I think it’s something I’ll have to get used to.” Again. Something you would have to get used to again.

“You trying to rip off her head or something?” Nishinoya yelled from across the court, and Asahi dipped his head. 

“He didn’t mean to,” you chuckled, letting the doors close behind you. Nishinoya threw a ball into the air, then caught it behind his back, his eyes on you. “I knew you’d come back,” he said, a smirk toying at his lips. “You just missed me so much, didn’t you?”

No, no you hadn’t. No, you didn’t know Nishinoya very well. No, you wouldn’t consider yourself friends. Yes, he was annoying, but also shockingly good looking. You hadn’t noticed it at the practice previously, but his figure had changed. He wasn’t much taller, much a couple of inches, but he had filled out a lot more than you liked to admit. His shoulders were broader, biceps tugging at the material of his tight white shirt, and when he rolled out the kinks in his neck the veins above his Adam's apple swelled. You tried not to stare, but it was unexpected, although you knew that the team had started to hit the gym more often recently. Once you had seen Asahi at the bottom of your street when you were getting home from work. He had explained how exhausted everyone was, but he had also expressed how he believed it was going to pay off. 

Clearly it had. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “In your dreams.”

You dropped your things outside one of the office’s, your movements slow and controlled. You were cautious. You were nervous. You were just trying to put one foot in front of the other. You didn’t want to freak out, or to seem like some weird fill-in manager chick who couldn’t keep her act together. You just wanted to make it through, one day at a time. “You ready kid?” Ukai asked, his voice making you flinch. You hadn’t even noticed that he had entered the gym, but you knew what it meant: it was official. Once you started you couldn’t just back down, mostly for the sake of your own pride. The boys would know that you didn’t have the guts, and Kiyoko would know too. She was an amazingly supportive friend, but you didn’t want her to see you break. You had received a text from her over the weekend expressing her gratitude. She wasn’t an overly animated person, so you knew that for her to be so thankful was a big deal. You wouldn’t let her down. 

You spun around to face the coach. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Ukai cracked a small smile, then flicked his head towards the court. “Almost everyone is here. We’ll wait five minutes, then we’ll get started, okay?” You nodded, not exactly sure what you were going to be ‘starting’ on. But you stood because Ukai, nerves pitting your stomach as you watched the boys. Hinata had an exceptionally impressive vertical, and you silently applauded him each time he went up to the net. Moody had a powerful set as well, one that arched when it needed to and fell when it needed to. On the other side of the net, Nishinoya was digging the balls that Hinata had sent over. He got low, right underneath the ball, and passed them up with beautiful height.

“They’re first-year’s, right?” You asked, gesturing to Hinata and Moody. “Sure are,” Ukai said, nodding with approval. “Good, huh?” “Seems like it,” you mumbled, your eyes flitting through the rest of the boys. Tsukki and another freckled boy were practicing hits and blocks on the left side of the net. Sugawara was up against the wall, stretching out his chest. The rest of the boys were hitting, or passing, or practicing serves. To you, it was actually quite chaotic, but somehow it seemed to work.

“Alright!” Tanaka suddenly yelled, bursting through the doors. “It’s okay guys! I’m here! Not to worry!” “We weren’t asking,” Tsukki said flatly, a bored expression on his face. You wondered exactly what Hana thought was so hot about him. The glasses did do something, but they weren’t it.

“Well now that practice is ruined,” Moody said, earning a hard glare from Tanaka. “It was ruined when you joined the team, Kageyama,” Nishinoya stated proudly, and Moody’s lips drew together in a firm line. So the dark haired boy actually had a name. Kageyama.

“Being a second-year doesn’t give you superiority,” Tsukki said, pushing his glasses up with one knuckle.

“Hell yeah it does!” Nishinoya stated, a smirk tugging at his lips as he tossed his ball in the air again. He bumped it once, then twice, then caught it. His eyes darted over to you, and you gave him a shake of your head. He grinned, facing Tsukki.“You’re jealous.”

Tsukki’s face darkened. “Am not.”

“Okay!” Coach Ukai yelled, breaking them up. He gave you an exasperated look, then waved them over. “Come on. You’re going to meet your new manager.” You gulped at the words. “Do I need a speech?” You asked, trying to play off your nerves. “Every good introduction comes with a speech.” Ukai eyed you. “Kid, this isn’t the election. Relax.” Your cheeks flushed pink as the boys crowded around you, wide grins on their eager faces. You met Nishinoya’s eyes, and he gave you a quick thumb’s up and a wink, but it only made you feel even worse. You knew that he was flirty; you had always known it. He made up for his height in personality and confidence, and he fucking made his presence known. It was one of the things that drew Hana to him most. You wouldn’t exactly call him a player, but he definitely pulled girls. Apparently it was an ongoing joke between him and Tanaka, but you didn’t find it overly funny. He could be a jerk sometimes--if his head got to him. 

But he had caught your eye, both physically meeting your gaze in that very moment, but also metaphorically, many times before.  “So Kiyoko did rope you into it then,” Daichi said, smiling softly. He held a volleyball between his wrist and hip, and he rolled it around his torso once. “She did,” you replied. “Although I don’t know how.” “Aw, have you already picked favourites?” Nishinoya teased, glancing over at Tanaka.   You gave him the eye. “Maybe I’ve just already picked least-favourites.” There was a collective whisper throughout the group. Nishinoya’s lips parted with surprise, but he didn’t reply.

Ukai let out a snort beside you, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest. “Boys, as I was saying,” he said, gesturing to you with a flick of his head, “this is Y/N.” “We know Coach!” Tanaka yelled, his voice booming through the gym. “She was here on Thursday!” Ukai quirked a brow. “And formal introductions aren’t a thing anymore?” “Tanaka wouldn’t know,” Tsukki said. “He has no manners.” “Why you little shi-” “Hey,” Ukai cut them off once more. “Please. Let’s not scare Y/N away already, sound good?” Tanaka continued to glare at Tsukki, but he zipped his lips. The tall blonde just shrugged as if to say I’m right. You were tempted to agree. One time you had Tanaka and Kiyoko over for dinner and Tanaka ate everything with his fingers and didn’t use a napkin. He didn’t even wash his hands afterwards, and your parents weren’t entirely pleased with the greasy finger marks all over their furniture.

“Have you been a manager before?” Hinata asked, his face lighting up. He managed to push himself to the front of the group, and he was looking at you eagerly. He seemed like a little burst of energy; you liked him already. “I haven’t,” you replied. “First time for everything?” “I bet you’ll be gone by tomorrow if Tsukki has anything to say about it,” Hinata said casually, and the blonde narrowed his eyes.

“It seems that everyone is against me today,” he said matter-of-factly. “Maybe it’s because I’m presenting the facts. You see-” “Okay professor,” Nishinoya cut in. “Thanks for the lecture.” Tsukki snorted. “Noya you-” “Boys,” Ukai said, interrupting them for a third time. He turned to you briefly to say “bear with me” before proceeding. “I wanted you to get familiar with Y/N, and for her to get an idea of you and your skills.”

“Skills?” Tsukki let out a snicker, his fist coming up to his lips to stifle his laughter. “What skills?” “Oh so you’re referring to yourself as well then, you dimwit,” Kageyama snapped, and then a collective shouting session started, prompting your jaw to drop slightly. You had never seen a team with so much banter in such a short amount of time. Hell, you had barely been standing there for two minutes and they were already in a blowout. “Enough!” Ukai yelled, uncrossing his arms to swipe them through the air. “That. Is. Enough.” “Sorry Coach,” a few of the boys grumbled, and they all earned a disapproving look from Daichi. “You’re a third-year then, Y/N?” More questions from the redhead. You definitely liked him. “I am,” you replied. “So…” Hinata’s brows pinched together as if he was really trying to figure out the circumstance. “Do you play volleyball?”

You knew the question was coming, and you had braced yourself for it, but there, standing in front of all those boys, you felt unprepared. “Uh-” you started, clearing your throat quickly. “I used to.” “Used to?” Asahi asked quietly. “I didn’t know you played.”

You nodded shyly. “Yeah.” “And you don’t anymore?” Hinata almost looked offended. “Why would you ever want to stop? Volleyball is the best sport in the world.”

You knew that. Hell, you had once told all your teammates the same thing. But that was a lifetime ago. “Damn, you’re a nosy little thing, aren’t you?” Tanaka said, ruffling Hinata’s hair. “She probably had people like you on the team Hinata,” Kayegama said bluntly, and Hinata’s expression deflated. “I wouldn’t blame her for quitting.”

Your body went tense, and you couldn't help the defensive response that swelled up inside you. You hadn’t quit. No, far from it. If you had, you wouldn’t have been standing there in front of all those boys, having them gawk at you and question you to wit’s end. As a harsh reminder, you body crawled with a shoot of pain, starting with your toes. You bit your tongue to hold back a wince.

“I didn’t quit,” you said quickly, your jaw tightening. You hadn’t meant for it to come out so hard, but the boys picked up on it. Hinata quirked a brow, and the corners of Nishinoya’s lips turned down slightly. Daichi continued to roll the ball around his torso, but he exchanged a glance with Suga.   “Y/N doesn’t have to explain anything to us,” Coach Ukai laughed, giving you a quick shake of the shoulder. You were relieved; it appeared as if Hinata was going to continue his interrogation. 

You forced him a smile, shaking away your outburst. “It’s a long story. Maybe for another time.” “We can make that happen,” Nishinoya said, hair flopping as he tipped his head. “Name a place and a time.” You clicked your tongue, but didn’t reply. He was toying with you, it was just what he did. But right there in front of Coach?

You sighed.  “We’ll deal with personal matters later,” Ukai said, giving Nishinoya a look. “For now, just make sure you treat Y/N with respect, and you listen to her like you listen to me, got it? Anything she says, you do it.” You could’ve sworn you heard Nishinoya whisper “kinky” to Tanaka. “Now, let’s show her what you’ve got. Serves!”

“Yes sir!” The boys yelled, and then they split; parting to different areas of the gym. They picked up balls along the way, and then in no time they were sending them across the gym, spiralling over the net. Decent, decent, decent. The boys were good, you would definitely admit it.

You just hoped that they hadn’t picked up on the tenseness of your stance. 

“Not bad,” you said, the words slipping between your lips before you could stop them. “You think so?” Nishinoya said, stepping up beside you, a ball twirling in his hands. You noticed just then--with him so close to you--that he had piercings. Three of them, actually. One stud on his right and two small hoops on the left. That was new. “I bet I could do better.” “Oh really?” You asked, watching as Asahi sent a beautiful ball over the net. In all honesty, you were being awed. “Then why don’t you get out there and show me?” “Please,” Tsukki muttered as he picked up a ball close to your feet. “Shorty can’t serve for shit.” “Shut up Four Eyes!” Nishinoya snapped, flustered. You laughed. “I’m sure you could do it.”

“Oh-” “Or not.”

Nishinoya pursed his lips, still mindlessly spinning the ball in his hands. “Oh, I see how it is.” He paused. “ You said you used to play volleyball?” He raised his brows, then his hands, waving them through the air. “Well I’m sure Tanaka knows. Tana-!” “Shut up!” You whisper-shouted, batting his arms back down to his sides. “Shut up. I haven’t played in ages.” “There a reason for that?” Nishinoya asked, his face pinching with suspicion. From the short amount of time that you had known him, you had become accustomed to his few quirks: the curious look in his eye; the loud mouth; the flirtatious tendencies. He wasn’t easy to miss in a crowd.

“Like I said before,” you said, almost a little too defensively. “It’s a long story.” Nishinoya pretended to check an imaginary watch on his wrist. “Hm, seems like I’ve got time.” “Noya!” Dachi yelled, as if on cue. “Get your lazy ass away from Y/N and start doing something!” Nishinoya tilted his head innocently, then tossed the ball in his hands up into the air. He bumped it up once, twice, three times, never breaking eye contact with Daichi. “What?” He asked sweetly. “But I am doing something Daichi.” Daichi pursed his lips; paused his serve to give Noya a look. “Use your time effectively.” “Always do, Captain.” Nishinoya caught the ball as soon as Daichi turned back around. “He’s uptight sometimes. He needs to live a little.” “Maybe you just need to listen,” you shot back, raising your brows. Nishinoya scoffed. “As if. What did I tell you? I only listen to me, myself and I.” “Noya, practice your digs with some of these serves,” Ukai said as he passed, his eyes scanning through a large stack of papers. “Yes sir,” Nishinoya grumbled, and you let out a laugh, your palm covering your mouth to keep quiet.

“What were you saying?” You called as he sauntered away. “About answering only to yourself?” “Yeah yeah!” He snapped, waving you off. “I get it.”

You grinned as you watched him walk over to the opposing wall. He tossed the ball against it, then bumped it back. Wall, arms. Wall, arms. Wall, arms. The ball made a steady rhythm. “So, kid,” Ukai said, making his way back towards you. “You mentioned you’ve played before?” You nodded. “How much do you know? Or remember.” All of it. Every little detail. You could recite the rules of the game in your sleep; every single play that your team ever did.

“A decent amount,” you replied softly.

“Perfect.”

-

The first practice went relatively smooth, you could agree to that. You had successfully managed to follow through the directions that Ukai had given you, and you actually had some fun. The boys seemed to like you too, which calmed your nerves immensely.

You stumbled out of the gym, freshly changed out of your athletic-wear. Your uniform was spritzed with a small amount of rose scented body mist, just to steer clear from any kind of gross locker room smell. That was about the only thing that you didn’t miss about sports: the change rooms. 

“Well Y/N!” Tanaka exclaimed as you left the gym. “Success?”

You gave a heavy sigh. “Sadly not.”

“What?” Noya--you had decided to take up the nickname—asked, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he caught up with you. “You’re tired of us already?”

“Actually just you,” you replied, deadpan. “I think I’m going to quit.”

He pouted. Yeah, you decided, he was cute. “You shouldn’t,” Tanaka said, his fingers toying with his backpack straps. He wiggled his brows as he talked, and you laughed. “The superiors like you. The peasants like you as well.”

The three of you started across the courtyard. You told Hana not to wait for you before the first period, so there were a few extra moments to spare. You wanted to try and catch up with Kiyoko before she went to her class, but there were a million places she could’ve been. Plus, you weren’t sure if you would even be able to break away from the two boys. They hadn’t shut up since practice had finished. 

Cue: chatter chatter chatter, you never stop talking.

“What class do you have now?” Noya asked, running a hand through his hair, then quickly over his jaw. He looked older than you remember. He would’ve been what? 17? Someone had told you he had an early birthday, so maybe even 18. “World history,” you replied. As if on cue, your bag seemed to get four times heavier, and your back began to ache. You jumped slightly, trying to hoist the bag up higher. “What do you have?”

You started up the steps to your hall. A group of girls rushed past you, all of them complaining about nearly missing their club meeting. From the other end of the courtyard, someone was playing rock music from a mysterious speaker.  The school would probably shut it down within the hour, but the kid had the right kind of spirit. The music wasn’t even half bad. 

“Ethics,” Noya replied, his eyes darting from you to the ground. “Wish I had taken world history.” “No you don’t!” Tanaka yelled, shoving Noya roughly on the shoulder. “It’s bloody hell. All this stuff about who knows what and who did this and who did that. I don’t care, it’s the past.” You grinned. “That’s why you’re failing.” “Am not!” Tanaka argued, tossing a set of keys into the air. Noya attempted to grab them when they were thrown again, but he was unsuccessful.

You were in class 4 and Tanaka was in class 2. You didn’t really ever walk with him to class, but every once in a while it happened, and every once in a while Nishinoya had tagged along. You enjoyed those moments. Noya was easy to get along with; playful and charming, with a decent sense of humour. You couldn’t help but watch him out of the corner of your eye as he spoke. He had an aura about him, one that made his ego almost suffocating. You didn’t mind so much because it was him, but you knew of another particular person that just happened to inflict their ego heavily on the crowd. You had fallen victim to this particular person more than once.

You shook off the thought.

“I’m only down the hall,” Noya said, tugging at the collar of his uniform. The first few buttons at the top were undone, and the tie was loose. Tanaka’s looked exactly the same, but you weren’t watching him nearly as intently as you were watching Noya.

You tried laughing it off. “Well thank God for that then, right? Any danger and I’ll know exactly who to call.” Noya winked. “Oh you bet. I’ll be waiting.” “I was going to say Ghostbusters.” Tanaka frowned. “I would call Ghostbusters.” “Of course you would Tanaka,” Noya said cheerily, slapping the tall boy across the back of the head. “You’ve got absolutely zero common sense!��� “Says the kid that’s always in detention!” Tanaka defended, crossing his arms tightly. “Me being in detention has nothing to do with my grades.” Tanaka gave you a knowing look at you and you bit back your laugh. “Whatever you say,” he replied. “Detention huh?” You questioned as you stepped into the hall. Your classroom was right at the end, and you ducked and weaved under arms and over bags. Everyone was pushing and shouting and laughing with one another, and it almost made it hard to hear. Noya did the same, dodging oncoming students, one hand tugging at his dual-toned locks. Tanaka just shrieked at them to move.   “Only every couple of weeks,” Noya said, shrugging like it was nothing. He then stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking over at you with a glint of achievement in his eye. “Why? You like bad boys Y/N?” You felt the colour rise to your cheeks and you dropped your gaze. “Of course.” You tried to play along. “Wouldn’t want them any other way.”

“You’re the exception,” Tanaka stated proudly to Noya, who rolled his eyes.

You neared your classroom and you slowed. Noya did the same, but Tanaka plowed forward, not even noticing that you had stopped. “This is me,” you said, flicking your head towards the door. Noya glanced inside, then over at you, a smirk toying at his lips. “Well, you know where to find me,” he said, pulling a hand out of his pocket to salute you casually. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

[fruitylibrarian]

quest of the spear live rewatch!

i already spewed my pre call to adventure flynn thoughts all over a text post but I would like to repeat: pre-canon flynn my beloved <3

yes he is a bit of a bastard but he just loves his books and he’s so genuinely just like. passionate and like…. Big? does that make sense? like i mean inside. not literally. bright

flynn’s mom is so fucking funny

and she’s Trying Her Best

you know one thing I don’t understand, I assume that flynn could afford to keep going to college because of like grants and scholarships since he’s all smart and like, even if his mom is well off, no one below the morally bankrupt millionaire line can pay for 22 degrees and not die of no-money-itis otherwise known as Starving

but like. why not become a professor or some other academia position?

you’d be incredibly overqualified and you’re a white dude, so while academia isn’t exactly bursting with new spaces to fill I’m sure you could find something???? and like. a professor in particular, while baby flynn might not be great at the connection part, seems like a natural progression to at least try for considering it keeps you in that comfort zone and familiar space just in a different albeit familiar role, and allows you to go on long lectures people can’t interrupt. and like, professors literally like, part of their job is research and to continue learning, so like. it seems like the natural choice for him to go for?

don’t get me wrong, baby flynn in particular might not be extremely well suited considering his lack of people skills, but plenty of professors are brilliant slightly odd smarties who give long, super engaging theatrical lectures (sounds like him!) but suck at one on one meetings and talking to people or may be accidentally insulting, but like, their class is genuinely interesting and they grade decently so like, I think he could get past that hurdle is what I’m saying

obviously he’d have to work at it and get the skills necessary but you know what that means? MORE SCHOOL, BABY! just in a different direction! like just? it seems like the obvious choice for his situation

ah yes!!! magic letter!!! it’s kind of funny they do this, it’s a great hook and way to make applicants go Uh Excuse Me and want to know more but also like, there’s no proof magic happened either?

although you’d think some people would get obsessive like let me tell you if i encountered real ass magic like that i wouldn’t stop until i had an answer

ah the Incredibly Long Interview Line. it’s kinda how funny how like. Not Special he is but at the same time he is?

“never been treated so badly in my entire life!” what did you say to him charlene

i’m sure he deserved it i just want to know

wait oh no i just realized

all these people are dead

every single one of them got murdered in the first episode of the series

jesus that’s dark

not gonna be able to stop thinking about that one huh

also love how it’s pretty evenly men and women

although it’s still mostly white

fuck that lady just left crying I know they’re doing this to turn up the drama but DAMN, charlene

god he almost gave up. remember the timeline episode where he never became the librarian? weird.

Gkjlfkgjhfglh Where Do You Think You’re Going? (weak gesture like “me?”) Yes You. Get In Here amazing how can she even see him she’s around the CORNER. camera? magical surveillance? why? just to freak people out? amazing.

i do so love charlene, it’s a shame she wasn’t in the show more

also she literally never explains shit. What Makes You Think You Can Be The Librarian he doesn’t even know what that means, charlene

He Doesn’t Even Have A Library Science Degree

oh wow he does actually have librarian qualifications lmao

why did i not remember that

DLKFGJDFG I did remember him sherlocking her tho

wait her MARRIAGE? to WHO?

i thought her and judson were a thing despite jenkins being into her or something?

huh

also why does this qualify him to be The Librarian™ like oh he can sherlock? ok?

maybe it’s just bc he had the balls to do it

well, the sherlock thing is also not completely unhelpful it just doesn’t seem central to his skills, or at least, not the way he uses it (do we see him use it like this again? he usually applies more obscure knowledge then ye classic deduction sherlockian skills if I remember correctly which I may not because my brain is smooth)

judson is such a fucking drama queen

LKDJFGLKDJFGLDKFJG I FUCKING FORGOT HE LITERALLY JUST FUCKING REPEATED HIS MOM’S LITTLE PHRASE AMAZING

also why did he seem to think her sending everyone home meant he didn’t get it why would she stop all interviews because you fucked up

he just fucking walked out of a wall judson you are so dramatic

also warehouse 13 vibes huh. welcome to a world of endless wonder

I could do a whole fucking thesis on warehouse 13 and the librarians or—well that’s a whole other tangent

anYWYA

this interview was remarkably easy tho, it’s not like he wasn’t impressive but it wasn’t mindblowing either????? this coming from a big fan of flynn

the big shiny wonderous eyes as the library lights up……flynn my beloved

also his floofy hair ldkfgjdlkfgj

he’s like this is too good am I being prank’d

why the mona lisa?????iIs the mona lisa magic??? It only became famous because it got stolen why would it be magic??? Is this one of those we make it magic by believing it or some shit things???

Flynn Do Not Open The Random Box In The Library Of Incredibly Dangerous Artifacts

oh hello excalibur !!

oh rip flynn immediately being like “oh im not worthy, trust me” with 100 percent certainty im hurt oof

KSJFLGKDJGLKDJG THE APPLE “the apple from the garden of eden…….” *judson takes a bite* “actually I just left this here”

excalibur hello properly!!!!

judson is such a fucking DRAMA QUEEN he’s so casual!! and cal you too you slippery bitch!  

ah the jetpack.

DLFKGJDLKFGJ “it usually takes a new librarian four hours to find the jetpack. you did it in three! congratulations” love the implication that every librarian (at least since it was added to the library) has done this no matter how serious like the bad guy of this movie… *checks notes* edware wilde? jetpack. darrington dare, probably? jetpack. i like to think jenkins did it too (not technically a librarian, but you know)

flynn thinking of himself as embarrassing… ☹

HIS MOM IS SO PROUD OF HIM

part sweet, part funny, part rip

I don’t know what she was expecting when he said librarian tho like. originally he literally looked at shit for FRY COOk degrees don’t always mean shit you know

and librarian is up there with professor in Perfect Jobs For Flynn like what did you expect??? Like even if he’d become an archaeologist (a “cool” job) it’s not like that pays super well either as far as I know??

he was never going to be Traditionally Successful

he’s still the same person he still has the same strengths and passions of course he would go into academia and do something like librarian like????? her reaction saddens me.

just be happy for him!! look at him!!!

ok first of all even normal non magic librarians don’t just put books on shelves and that’s a condescending reduction of the job, and second of all, he is so happy!! he has a job, he’s taking responsibility, he’s meeting people, isn’t that enough??? isn’t that literally what you wanted??? even if it WERE what you think it is why couldn’t it just be a good first step??? like??? fuck??? you did been know that he was doing all those fancy degrees because he loved them not because they’d get him some super fancy job??? I mean egyptology is not the most profitable field you know this isn’t med school or whatever

god.

flynn’s mom, visibly not proud and very upset: of course im proud of you!

ok im being a little unfair, she’s trying and clearly she’s been supportive of him, if not straight up enabling of him, but like this is clearly being presented as like. normal person who is normal forced to take care of freakish strange son who is so nerdy and strange and a loser and she is so tired of his shenanigans and all that WORK she put in and he’s NOT FANCY AND CHANGING TO CONFORM TO HER IDEALS OF A GOOD SUCCESSFUL SON/MAN?

and that’s just all very. sigh.

the snake brotherhood are such obnoxiously cheesy villainous villains they’re even called the snake brotherhood

also I think we’re supposed to recognize him as the previous librarian from the painting but if I didn’t already know that I for sure would not know that

smartass flynn is a smartass

I never got people bringing someone coffee to impress them unless they knew their order like there’s no way you know who she likes her coffee so you could so easily get it wrong—like even if you don’t know exactly how much sugar she wants, you could also just get it entirely wrong like assume she likes black coffee but she likes it super sweet, or vice versa, or whatever. it can go wrong so easily!

or she could go “I Hate A Kiss Ass”

she did take it anyway tho so.

ah i did forget (or just not actively think about) how much like… christian mythology there is in this show :/ I mean we did been knew (excalibur and arthurian legend are pretty important to the mythology)

not that christian mythology is inherently bad it just gets a) annoying, b) boring, and c) y’know, very western centric and all

but then trying to reconcile di—you know what that’s a tangent for another time

then again I do assume no one is going to read this

the library really does just throw new librarians into death and go “hope this is fine!” huh

did they just imply god is canon in the “the librarian” universe

you were so cryptic with the no one thing!! just say NOONE

he’s scribbling in his notebook and mumbling out loud what a mood and I love him. what a nerd

ldfkgjdlkjg god sexy jazz music and a breeze this is so dumb

I do hate the forced love interests in all these movies it’s always like Some Hot Girl Is There And They Get It On!

like he really had chemistry with eve and banter but here it kinda feels like that wish fulfilment and then the nerd gets the hot chick the end and im saying that as the nerd

it doesn’t help that each movie has a different one who immediately is dropped as if she never existed afterwards

maybe it’s not as bad as I remember but. sigh

my instant impression of her is to not like her sorry nicole :/

she’s just so rude? she’s like. hot (derogatory)

i get there’s gender politics here with like. she’s used to being treated like a piece of meat and generally like, why not reap the benefits when you are going to get the creeps too, but like, also she’s just so unnecessarily rude—I mean rejecting his clumsy flirting is one thing but you know—ok I won’t even get into that the point is I just don’t really like her that much even tho I don’t think she’s necessarily a bad person or anything you know

but to be fair I think she got better and I remember her being compelling in her return to the show

and like. I do like how the trend in this franchise is “smart little nerd librarian and badass lady guardian kicks ass” but I do wish that it turned around occasionally. we do get cassandra but like. more lady librarians

wow an air marshal? aren’t they rarely even on flights?

sorry im being nitpicky there for sure lmao. please delete the cinamasins ding my words probably summoned from your brain

I get why shoving him out was necessary but also Wow

Gjklhkjfgh imagine sitting next to some mumbling nerd the whole flight and then you see him fly past the windows

LFKGJDLKJDFG he brilliantly lowers our expectations then jumps without a chute! remarkable!

hilarious or commentary on men getting credit for womens’ competency? why not both

i really thought that she was going to be a lying liar the first time I watched this

ah naïve boy. “uh that’s against the law”

flynn’s greatest strength isn’t just his knowledge but his like. breadth of different topics, just like, passion for learning of any time, and like. the ability to not just know a lot of different things but cross-reference and apply them to each other and use them in tandem to understand a greater whole

and we love that for him!

ah flynn therapizing himself lmao

why would she take him going “this bridge is rotting and physically cant support our weight” as a challenge

or him being cowardly like THE STRUCTURAL SUPPORTS ARE ROTTING

YEAH WHAT DID YOU EXPECT OF COURSE HE FUCKING FELL

ok i lied i like nicole i just don’t love their dynamic

i get what they’re going for i just. not my thing

like with eve there was still a clear mutual respect? i guess? idk

maybe it’s just because i’m more sensitive to mean banter? i don’t like mean banter, even when it’s like, def 100 percent well meaning and not mean spirited and no one is actually offended or hurt

although despite not liking their Thing I do a) think it’s very cute how he looks at her, b) their vibe as they start to get to know each other is Better, c) the end of the movie scene where she rides in for maximum drama? now that was good shit.

oh he’s sherlocking her in a shy attempt to impress her but it’s only going to piss her off, right?

oh she’s just sherlocking him back

KSGFJLDKFGJ LMAO “nerd” and that’s it. fair

Cutting Off His Head damn that’s hardcore

hmmmm cringe,

and more cringe

and cringe.

her waking up to him gone right after telling that story about waking up to her librarian gone and then killed—oof

love the serpent brotherhood lady being like wow!! he’s SO COMPETENT!! (cuts to him screaming)

do these ancient traps just have infinite arrows?

also I do love the whole waltzing across trope what can I say im a sucker

DFLKGLDKFGJLDKJG fucking CHUCKS SOMETHING AT IT and immediately where he would be standing is crushed by a huge rock amazing

he literally just chucked a rock at it and it fell over

ah the classic “let the hero get it for us” move

oh there he is! rip

why does he look like macpherson

not really but kind of

also contrast between the lady always being like “omg the librarian is so smart” and him assuming nicole is the one who did the smart thing

“your tears were perfect” how much more of an asshole can you get

They really could have played him as more sympathetic—“oh, we’re always around these powerful artifacts but we never use them for good! I had to do it, I was sick of sitting back and doing nothing” or like “all those years of danger and guarding powerful things and what good did it ever do me? what do I get for my service?” or anything but nah hes just like “mm power good babes. anyway I love sex and being mean”

to be fair flynn he was the librarian too—a real librarian? I mean yeah edward was corrupted and ultimately failed his duties but he had to have been qualified and actually got the job for a reason

flynn I know you think you sound badass but you really don’t

god not shangri-la again. everything the show did with that was. Bad. yikes

why is—god, I should really learn her name [checks notes] lana fangirling so much?

also following the lamia tradition of “serpent brotherhood second in command who is more interesting than the main evil white guy and also a pretty woc” huh

never got like “this is literally impossible” “well do it or I [generic bad guy threat]” like usually that means nothing lmao

LDFKGJLDKFJLDKFGJ ok first of all god is me? bitch?

second of all. me in english? on this fucking ancient very much not english thing? I mean I guess a) it might not be literal, even though he did say “m, e” by letters, b) it is a christian myth so maybe planted later??? but like?????

dude. giving the super powerful artifact to your prisoner? bad idea. if you’re worried about booby traps have a minion do it.

oh yes your gun is so scary in the face of a temple collapsing

why do heroes always think the whatever is safer with them than the temple that’s guarded it for a thousand years

I get it’s been discovered but like. fuck. still

You Are Going To Crash This Helicopter

SLKGJ HORRIBLE HIGH VELOCITY PIE OF DEATH

flynn and judson…..wholesome

oh here comes more forced romance

just let them be friends who grow to mutually respect each other blease

it is very fucking funny that the mom is like ….. oh my god…. oh my god,,, a WOMAN AJUST ANSEWREDM Y SDONGS PHONE?????????OH MY GOFD?????

he is bisexual. but it’s good he’s getting out

ah floofy hair

cahooting,

Yes You Do Need Clothes

that’s a teleporter sir

god eddie wild is such a boring fucking villain and person

and his plan SUCKS

also the serpent brotherhood (why BROTHERhood?) sucks and hates the library why would they just let this guy, a librarian, literally be their new leader

wow he just stabbed a guy on his OWN TEAM for no reason

great going asshole

love how lana is just like…. O-O

we stan lana. she hasn’t done much and she’s technically a bad guy i just love her

“at last we can be one” what does that even mean

why would lana or any of them want to help him he just killed one of their own for no reason hes clearly tripping on power and leaving yall to die

lfkgjdlkfgj flynn dodging so hard while the others is fight and then PUNCHING A GUY

dfglkjdflgkj wait it’s the professor dude why is that so funny

is he WITH THEM??? I think I just missed something

hold on a sec

yeah I think he just appears??? And flynn just fucking broke his nose iconic

wait so was he with them or is he just here going WHY ARE THERE RANDOM PEOPLE IN MY PYRAMID????????????

oh right he built the—ok I got it

Wait what

I mean I did think lana was neat and she seemed impressed with flynn but what shes just like, in love with him now? that makes zero fucking sense why would she want them to Be Together

Is it just so there can be a catfight between the two hot chicks?

seriously tho? morally pure blonde blue eyed girl versus Evil Asian Chick? really?

for the record NOT THAT IT MATTERS but lana is way cuter im just saying

ah badass judson

THE COMEDY OF THE CAPSTONE CRUSHING HIM DLFKGJDLKFGJ

oh………….pulling out excalibur…. predicable but so good

oh the painting….the very Parenty way of revealing it…… wholesome

oh did NOT like that transition

oh here comes the badass fucking entrance with his gf busting in on his mom trying to set him up with girls

HER ENTRANCE IS SO UNNECESSARAILY DRAMATIC I LOVE THEM

I just love the mom’s face ldfkgjldfkgjdlkfgjdlkfjgd shes like WHAT THEGUFVCJK

again I don’t love the vibes of “oh my weird loser son is finally normal!” but to be fair im exaggerating a bit from just facial expressions it’s just. sigh

but ngl the vindication of him being able to be like. yeah that’s right im a badass now and my gf is cool as fuck is still good

him and nicole do have not terrible vibes at the end but if I remember correctly that mission (time travelling ninjas and hg wells’s time machine) is the one that separated them so rip I guess

overall: good movie! as cringe as I remember but I still love flynn so much

[uwua3]

Hello! Sorry to spring another request at you so soon, but those jealousy headcanons you wrote for me have got me hooked! Would it be possible to write a redemption/forgiveness focused "part 2" to those 3 HCs but years later, showing that they've both grown as people and wind up with happy endings together? (And heal my bruised ego, j/k 😆) If you would rather not revisit those stories, I completely understand + will think of something else 😁 TY once more for your immaculate creations 🙌🙏

yes! this will be the pt. 2 set years later from the first jealousy hc~ i know everyone’s a sucker for happy endings so i’ll try my best! aLSO YOU KNOW WHAT’S FUNNY!!! i remember when i got sent this ask and i just wrote immaculate in one of my writings omg!!! we are Connected

summary: time heals and people move on, for better or for worse

author’s note: this was less redemption, but more for forgiveness. sometimes, you can’t forget what someone did but forgive them after becoming changed people. being the bigger person, moving on, and being the best version of yourself is the sweetest revenge possible + taichi’s was the longest, i am the most proud of his!

there are some situations where it’s best to leave a person out of your life if they hurt you more than anything ♡ don’t feel like you are missing a part of yourself without them, you’re more than someone’s s/o; you’re you!

word count: 4,042 (total) — 1,297 (kazunari), 868 (tenma), 1,877 (taichi)

music: i don’t want you back – aj mitchell (kazunari), you could have been the one – coasts (tenma), wish u the best – blackbear (taichi)

jealousy (pt.2)

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

it kept raining, but kazunari refused to let that stop him anymore

kazunari stood drenched for so long but his umbrella was by his side this entire time (he covered himself and watched the stormy clouds part to reveal streams of the sun)

kazunari wanted to love himself first, and then maybe he could come back to loving you

so he attended therapy. learned how to openly commuicate his feelings without constantly seeking attention. made real friends with a theatre company named mankai. found passion in another art form: acting!

kazunari grew as a person, developing into his full identity and he finally knew who he was. kazunari stopped forming unhealthy attachments onto people who showed any form of interest on him and even had a few successful relationships because of his mindset

(all of them ended maturely, respectfully, and without any of the drama being a teen had. it felt nice to be an adult for once)

kazunari was content with his own body, for once. he practiced taking breaks and understood his own limits (not weaknesses, his therapist reminded him, just boundaries). kazunari even started posting online again, making enthusiatic blog posts that were genuine this time

kazunari stopped obsessively checking comments left on his selfies and just deleted any that were negative. but most times, he didn’t even see them because he was proud of how far he came. it could only go up from here

kazunari was happy!

but, you weren’t. you lost your best friend who eventually stopped sending random late–night texts. the one who always had an adventure up his sleeve and always made you laugh. where did he go?

it wasn’t until you spotted an advertisement that had his name in the bottom part of the cast. you didn’t even know kazunari was interested in drama, though he did have the flair for it

(you were too busy with your partner to even come to his water me! debut)

when you attended the summer troupe’s second opening night, you couldn’t recognize the man standing before you on stage

kazunari wasn’t that meek barista who shut down every time he made a mistake. now, when he flubbed the script, he simply did improv and didn’t let his mistake hold him back. he matured to be an accomplished young man with the talent to boot and all the charisma in the world

when kazunari’s sight glanced past you, he barely noticed your presence. he just nodded and spared no more attention towards you, focusing on the play and giving it his all

to you, kazunari was a stranger. to kazunari, you were just somebody he used to have good times with, that’s all

after that, you left and didn’t bother seeking contact with him again besides the occassional congratulations to be civil. he didn’t need you anymore, it was painfully obvious how happy he was now

(much happier than when he was best friends with you)

kazunari didn’t notice and put his energy into becoming someone he was proud of, gaining popularity online for his infectious happiness and wonderful, creative edits

kazunari stopped trying to love himself so you could love him. he did everything for him because he wanted to

after seeing you in the crowd, kazunari accepted you weren’t the same person he became best friends with and that was okay. he had 20 best friends who he shared a house with, what more could he ask for?

(even when he saw your long instagram post about your engagement, he liked it and left a happy comment. there was no jealousy over what could have been, just complimenting the ring without any hard feelings)

kazunari knew he would never see you again, that you were intimidated by his self–love. kazunari wasn’t too sad, just posted a group photo with the caption: “my best friends ✨”

kazunari moved on easily, knowing there was no point to get hung up if you were happy. who was he to get in the way of a happy relationship?

so when you sent him an e–mail asking him to be the best man at your wedding, it didn’t phase him as bad as he thought it would. maybe, just a little surprise. kazunari didn’t hesitate to request practice off and click to confirm his rsvp

(maybe, this could have been his last opportunty to be your best friend)

if it was possible to outdress the couple, he did. kazunari showed up to the wedding in his best suit, gladly chatting up the party

(he knew he looked good, and because of that, he didn’t flinch every time he was mistaken as the groom)

(he didn’t want to be, anyways)

kazunari met up with you in your dressing room, watching you pace as you had pre–marriage jitters. but you looked pretty, beautiful even, but you didn’t look like his bride. that didn’t hurt him, he just smiled and offered his arm

“you ready, best friend?” kazunari asked and the smile on your face reflected his: hollow, but somewhat sad. you both knew you guys weren’t close like before, the same people before. you two were almost unrecognizable, but the love as friends was still there

kazunari couldn’t deny you made his life better at some point, people just change and that was that. he couldn’t fault you for that

he couldn’t blame you for his fear of confessing his feelings, his avoidance of any type of serious relationship. that was on him, and he accepted that a long, long time ago

he was gonna walk the first love of his life down the aisle to another person, and kazunari smiled, knowing this was for the best

kazunari was happy the person you met all those years ago was your soulmate, you deserved that

as the double doors opened, you two gracefully walked down the aisle as he noticed the person at the end was crying tears of joy. they were so in love with you, and you had the same look on your face

kazunari didn’t even react like that, just smiled and gave you a thumbs up

this was definitely for the best

as the room stood for you, you glanced at kazunari and whispered something that had no effect on him whatsoever

“i liked you, before all of this.”

kazunari just looked forward, feeling the rain finally come to an end as a sunny, summer blue sky was shining with puffy white clouds

the rain was gone for good, and 19–year–old kazunari finally had his closure

“i did, too.” kazunari simply said and you didn’t react. it was clear, you both moved on

before giving you away, kazunari smiled, making some joke about being careful with his “daughter”

the room laughed, and he did, too (he meant it)

kazunari was happy for you as he watched you two exchange vows. maybe his past self would’ve selfishly wished that was him, object when the officiant asked, and steal you away

but kazunari knew you were happy

(best man kazunari stood up at the dining banquet to deliver his speech, holding the mic up to his mouth and he shared happy memories between the two of you)

(kazunari almost talked about how gorgeous you looked in golden hour back then, but stopped. that was a memory only his teen self should have, and instead made a toast)

(“for forgiveness, moving on, and best friends!”)

kazunari watched you have your first dance and looked outside. it was golden hour, and you were just as gorgeous as before

but, kazunari didn’t have to be your #1 anymore. because in his heart, he was his own #1, and that would never become a joke

the rain ended, and wouldn’t come back as long as he lived in the sun

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

you and tenma were cast in the same movie years after your public break–up

it was an easy job and guarenteed summer blockbuster for best lead actor, tenma

he was entering university now for acting, keeping a clean image as the media slowly forgot about his playboy past as he shifted his efforts to more time with his true friends and being a regular, casual teen

(even previous co–stars admitted his personality did a full 180 and it was refreshing to see the young actor turn over a new leaf)

tenma decided after you, he deserved real love that wasn’t fabricated by a company

he left his label with a rip to the contract, flipped them off with both his fingers, and became an independent star that rose to popularity due to his honest and brash interviews on the industry

he took on projects he loved and tenma’s parents slowly came to respect him as an actor, giving him the freedom to do whatever mattered to him

(tenma even started reclaiming back his missed childhood, lowering the expectations he forced upon himself and letting himself make mistakes. he started trying again and again, refusing to give up for the sake of his team)

tenma expanded his talents to both on screen and stage, and found himself becoming more of a team–player who was confident in his abilities to lead and be taken seriously

mankai taught him love wasn’t just romantic. he received love everyday from his close friends and pushed himself out of his comfort zone to express his feelings and appreciation without feeling uncomfortable

as a result, tenma was loved for who he was, not some idol image

tenma loved himself all because of his love for acting, and knew he wouldn’t have been able to do it if it wasn’t for you, weirdly enough

you were the breaking point. you set off the chain of events that let him take back his own life and pursue real, authentic things. tenma was still a kid at heart, but he grew up

the next time he saw you on set after providing food for the cast to practice showing apprecistion, he towered over you and had to look down

this time, it seemed like he was the one who ruffled your hair and treated you like his younger sibling

you hadn’t realized it, but tenma wasn’t the little kid you liked making fun of. now he was a strong, independent, opiniated firecracker who wasn’t afraid of telling it how it is

tenma wasn’t scared to tell you when you messed up, but this time, he offered advice. he was a natural leader who provided multiple effective solutions and was interested in working with the directors and producers to make the best possible cut

tenma wasn’t some egotistical, self–centered jock his company portrayed him out to be. he was a childish, fun–loving, aggressive firework who was unapologetic about his true self and put his entire self into acting

it was a particular scene that involved romance, and you had to act as a couple with tenma, having a practice read as you went through the lines

“i’m sorry, i loved you so much, it would have killed me if i didn’t say something.” tenma recited, emotionally looking into your eyes as he made his voice shake. it almost felt too authentic, and you cleared your throat, continuing the line

“i did too... but you,” you glanced up at him, and suddenly you realized tenma wasn’t that young brother you thought he was. you regretted ever treating him like some dumb kid, he had grown so much

“you were so young... i judged you too quickly and never let you have a chance. i’m sorry, tenma.”

tenma didn’t break character, but he just shook his head and put his hand out, knowing you didn’t follow the script

“it’s okay. it is what it is.”

you shook his hand, and you never realized how well his hand fit in yours

from that moment forward, you two had easy chemistry and became friends again. but as you began to see him as a man, he always reminded you that it was never going to work out even if he forgave you

he made it especially clear when you guys came back to that one arcade. its games never changing and it felt like you went back in time. when he caught you giving him the same look 16–year–old tenma gave you back then, he sighed and stared at you with firm determination

“i get it, i’m different now. but you gotta give up, don’t even think about it. i forgive you, but we’re friends. that’s all we’ll ever be.”

tenma was older now, and he was grateful for all you did for him, but he already had real love

he didn’t need fake love, especially from you

after playing games in the arcade, it was tenma this time who commented how fun it was and you could call him up any time for acting advice. he saw you as a younger sibling

you watched tenma grow up, but didn’t realize maybe you were the one who was still stuck in the past

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

taichi, grew up

he refused to ever let anyone hurt him the same way for the rest of his life. he couldn’t believe he was so desperate for love that it blinded his view on common sense. taichi never wanted to feel like he was used, kicked, and abandoned ever again

taichi never wanted to see you again, you didn’t deserve to see him after all this time

taichi began to build up his self–esteem, knowing whatever happened, wasn’t his fault anymore. he loved himself, he was the best you ever had and you left him for someone you ditched later that week

in a way, he won. taichi was happy, confident, and grew up to the best actor possible as he was surrounded by the mankai boys who supported him to be content with life

so taichi forced himself to stand taller, started looking people in the eye, and being direct with his boundaries. taichi learned more about what he could handle, and it was amazing to see how having self–respect meant people backed off, knowing he wasn’t a victim anymore

taichi learned his self worth and moved on, his love for himself was greater than anything he felt for you

(during times when he relapsed, sometimes he re–read the love letters he wrote you. you would leave them behind, not even opening them. they were so honest, so vulnerable, it physically hurt him to know he exposed his heart to the public like this)

(he’d read but at the end, he’d always laugh at his stupidity. you didn’t deserve to have such nice things like his heart)

taichi became even more extroverted, making countless friends as he realized making lasting relationships was meant to be double–sided and not just an one–way effort. as a result, he made contact with people who actually liked him and valued him as a friend

taichi put out good energy into life, and he got it back in the form of fun, friends, and his family

taichi liked making connections with people in theatre troupes on veludo way, always staying back to applaud at street acts and exchange contact information

one day, he came across a recently up and coming troupe that nearly fainted when they caught sight of the bright red hair that distinguished taichi

(amongst troupes, taichi was even better than god troupe. taichi was a resident star that was so nice that everyone loved him)

now, they were his closest friend group outside of the mankai boys and noticed their street act, rushing over to congratulate them

“you guys did amazing! i’m so proud!” taichi fake–sobbed, running over and throwing himself onto one of them with a tight hug as the group of friends released a tight laugh after the nervewrecking performance

“ah taichi~ you have to stop before i fall in love with you!” someone said, pushing taichi off jokingly as he pouted like a puppy.

taichi was older now, less naive and innocent to the dating game, his heart didn’t flutter like it would’ve before when he was 16

taichi just laughed it off, and it didn’t affect him like before. he didn’t fall in love, he learned to tell the difference between friendly affection and true love

(but sometimes, taichi closed himself off in a room, listening to the playlists he made for you on loop for hours. but in his moments of weakness, taichi listened and listened and listened. he scoffed, you never even liked the songs to begin with. he felt silly for wasting his favorites on you)

(slowly, eventually, the songs sounded less like you. he began to enjoy them on the radio and sang along freely, your existence blocked from his train of thought)

taichi added to the conversation, putting in funny jokes everyone laughed at and it felt nice to be involved in other groups. they didn’t ignore him, or try to take advantage of his obvious need to be popular

(it was funny how taichi naturally became popular the moment he loved himself, like being happy was all it took)

he wasn’t clinging for the validation anymore, taichi knew he was funny. he was worth it. he was the best version of himself possible

the topic changed to the troupe’s show being premiered this weekend. taichi gladly accepted the ticket, promising to come and cheer on the cast the loudest he could

(he knew they’d do the same when autumn troupe performed. in fact, they did. it was so cool to see all the troupes on veludo way band together and support creativity)

taichi received a promotional poster, thanking the group as he headed back to the dorms. taichi glanced down at the names, nearing the door before skidding to a stop

your name was in bold, big letters. taichi almost didn’t recognize it, he nearly repressed you in his memory

taichi thought back on the love letters he stayed awake to write, nearly falling asleep as he forced himself to share his feelings honestly. remembered how you didn’t even look at them, how it looked like you’d rather do anything than try to understand him

taichi heard the playlists in his ears all at once, his favorite songs being dedicated to you and you hated them

taichi nearly opened his notebook to pen a letter for you, was about to start shuffling through the playlist before he stopped

he read your name. said it aloud. but that was it, taichi just stuffed the poster in his bag as he strolled in after his first year of university

you didn’t deserve any space in his mind after what you did, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t come support his friends

taichi refused to ever let you have the privilege of controlling any aspect of his life anymore, he was going to that damn show and would yell as loud as possible

taichi knew he wasn’t coming for you, but for people who actually liked him

when taichi went inside, he smiled as his friends greeted him enthusiastically. he was so lucky to be who he was today

on saturday night, taichi was on the edge of his seat as the play reached its climax. your acting, he hated to admit it, was almost on par with his. you were dominating the stage and then some, your energy easily bouncing off your cast mates. it’s like you were born for the stage

16–year–old taichi would have been insecure over his own abilities, sunk into his seat and reconsidered everything he did. maybe would have thought he should practice more, get advice, fix who he was

but 19–year–old taichi was older, wiser, better. just because you were good, didn’t mean he wasn’t any good. in fact, taichi smiled contently, he was sure he was just a bit better

(just a little, and his ego actually believed it)

taichi jumped to his feet to applaud rambunctiously when the cast came out to have a bow, whooping as he swung his arms around to get his friends’ attention

they all turned and waved, sending comedic air kisses as you finally recognized him, your face paling and hands shaking as you didn’t do anything

taichi just smiled, waiting as the audience cleared out and he was let into backstage only to be embraced by the sweaty, hyped cast

“taichi~ you made it!” they cheered and taichi grinned, ruffling the younger actor’s hair as his heart soared due to being seen as a mentor to the rookies. he noticed the way they admired him, wanted to be like him

(and for once in his life, taichi liked being his own person, too)

“of course! anything for my friends!” taichi returned the hug, being the last person to pull away as he individually greeted everyone with just as much excitement. backstage buzz was real and got everyone in the best mood ever

except, you

when taichi reached you, your face was nervous. almost, fearful. you looked wary, ready to bolt at any moment he opened his mouth

(and taichi realized he had the power. he could’ve exposed you right then and there. tell everyone what a manipulative, toxic, evil person you were for breaking his heart. for cheating on him when he did nothing but be loyal to you. you were trash, the gum at the bottom of shoe, and he could easily destroy your career if he just told everyone. they would trust him, you’d be over)

(if he was 16, he would’ve ended you. he would’ve shared all the awful, terrible, low things you did and you wouldn’t be anything anymore. the revenge was almost too good, he would actually win)

but... the hurt that was in him before, the pain that would’ve pushed him to have the upper hand, it wasn’t there. he didn’t feel anything towards you except he was sorry you weren’t with him anymore

(he was the best you ever had, he knew that)

instead, taichi smiled even bigger. he pulled a boquet of flowers from behind his back, the flowers he remembered were your favorite

“hey! long time no see!” taichi quickly pulled you in for a hug, your rigid posture against his chest as you awkwardly put your hands around him. taichi realized it was the first time you actually hugged him back, but he didn’t feel anything

taichi pretended that you stepped on his foot, pulling away with a dramatic “ouch!” as you widened your eyes, about to profusely say sorry before he waved it off

“come on, you don’t have to apologize for what happened! i forgive you, you know. we’re good.” taichi pretended to be talking about the minor issue, gesturing to his shoe as he handed you the flowers. but you understood he meant much more than that, and your eyes were brimmed with tears

“hey~ don’t cry! it was just a little boo boo, nothing time won’t fix.” taichi sympathetically pat your shoulder, knowng you didn’t deserve it. you were the one who wasn’t worthy this time, even you couldn’t believe taichi forgived you for all you done

but one smile and you knew he wasn’t lying

(even after all this time, he couldn’t hide his emotions. his heart was on his sleeve, but it was protected. it recovered. it healed)

taichi stood tall. stared you in the eye. stopped trailing after you like a lost puppy. you stepped back as the crowd took him back, inviting him to the afterparty as he happily agreed, knowing he was the life of the party

taichi didn’t even look back at you, like he completely forgot all about you

taichi didn’t talk to you for the rest of the night, but when he did, he was always the bigger person, acting like nothing ever happened

he really moved on, and he felt so sorry for you he had to forgive you

(you had texted him later that night, wanting to meet up to talk. taichi opened the message, almost laughed, and closed his phone. he left you on read, he deleted your number again)

taichi was his own person now; he wasn’t in love with you anymore, he was in love with himself

and he was enjoying himself

taichi didn’t look back, not anymore

[pippki-writes]

An Ill-Fitting Name: Snippet 4

NOTES:

Snippet 1

Snippets 2 & 3

Features lyrics from Danny Schmidt’s “This Too Shall Pass”

Faoust belongs to @thebiggestnerd - she writes him, the healer (whose contribution I summarized in this snippet, I don’t think she comes up again much for our murderboy here so I didn’t go too in depth with her) - everyone else is mine.

Longer post, 8,066 words folks! Buckle up.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

The name is like an ill-fitting coat, but it’s either wear it, or go naked in the cold, metaphorically speaking. He knows Faoust will kill him, but he’s not dead yet.

The officer sitting outside the room tilts her chair back on its legs, in one ear her radio turned low and largely ignored, holding her phone out playing music and keeping her other ear tilted to the room and its occupant for signs of life. He listens to the music coming from her phone:

We think too big

We think our self is one whole thing

And we claim that this collection

Has a name and is a being

But deep inside

When every cell divides

Well, it sets upon the rule that states

Self-interest is divine

He scrapes out an involuntary cough, and the officer lets her chair fall forward as she twists to check on him.

She tries to interrogate him, but he can’t talk, and only whispers “no.” He writes on her notepad, “I’m expecting a visitor,” and refuses to communicate further. His intuition is that Faoust will come here for him eventually, though he doesn’t know how long Faoust will let him live. Maybe Faoust won’t come while he’s in the hospital. But hovering over the edge of the pain, death feels certain and he knows where it will come from.

Finally, a visitor arrives. He hears the footsteps approaching, certainly heavier than any of the nurses that have tended to him, and the sound of a respectful shuffling in place, acknowledging the officer guarding his hospital room.

A familiar voice speaks. “Hey. I’m here to see my friend Asmodai, officer…?”

He can hear the sound of the officer crossing her arms, but she neither gets up nor offers her name. “Don’t suppose you might be able to tell me what the hell happened to him and how he ended up here?”

“Nah, wish I could. Is he ok?”

“He’s not in great shape. I’m not a doctor but he’s bad off. And not the kind of bad off that happens accidentally.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Almost as crazy as whoever did this. You don’t have any ideas?”

“Nah. I’m not really an ideas guy. Just a guy who worries about my friends. Can I go see him or...?”

The officer gives a defeated little grunt. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead. We can talk later.”

Dorien walks into the room as though he belongs there. Machines. IVs. In the middle of the room, bed propped up, staring at him, there’s that bastard Asmodai. Dorien takes a moment to breathe, staring back, looking angry. Dorien reminds himself why he is here. Not to kill him. Not to bring retribution. Just information to help Faoust. He clenches and unclenches his hands.

It takes Dorien a moment to realize what Asmodai is doing. The slight, strange sound, chest heaving—he is, very quietly, laughing.

He hasn’t come to terms with how to refer to himself—he is no more Isaiah than he was Asmodai, but he supposes, out of respect for the wish of a self who once knew what it wanted, he will call himself Isaiah until it fits. Or until he’s dead.

Isaiah laughs until the sound breaks into a cough. For starters, this was not the visitor he was expecting. And he can see why he would have been drawn to Dorien. Tall, dark-haired, handsome, and vulnerable. So many of his favorite things. The wizard Asmodai, before he stole his name, had been much the same.

Dorien keeps himself in check, and comes closer to the bedside. He doesn’t want the officer to hear him.

“What’s so fucking funny?” Dorien growls quietly.

Isaiah frowns. Talking will be an effort. He can’t even breathe too deeply, thanks to Dorien’s best attempts to slowly crush his ribs the other night after what he tried to do to Faoust. This is merely a fact—he doesn’t feel particular malice over it. He tries to choose his words carefully, so as not to waste them. There’s no volume, only whispering, but even the whispers are so resolute, so final. The playfulness of Asmodai is gone.

“Too much...to explain. What ...do you want...to know?”

Dorien folds his arms, lest he be tempted to do anything. “C’mon, what do you think I’d be here wanting to know. The magic-blocking cuffs. How do we take them off? Where’s the key?”

Isaiah shakes his head. “Didn’t get...a key. Wouldn’t...have wanted it.”

Dorien glares down at the bastard who nearly succeeded at killing the love of his life, and proceeds to try to get information out of him while texting Faoust. The conversation is slow going. The answers Dorien gets are halting and unsatisfying.

Faoust texts Dorien: "I want to know what he thinks should happen next."

Dorien looks down at Asmodai. “So what do you think should happen next?”

Isaiah sighs, unfazed. “Talking...not exactly....easy. Paper? Pen? Your phone?”

Dorien looks around for paper. He’s dumb, but not dumb enough to hand over his phone. He finds a notepad and a cheap pen in the desk drawer, and throws them on Asmodai’s lap.

Isaiah scribbles, handwriting messy and difficult on the flimsy pad, “He kills me for what” a scribble then, crossing out an “As,” and the writing resumes, “I’ve done. Why wouldn’t he? It’s inevitable.”

Dorien tears the paper off the notepad and holds it up, taking a picture to send to Faoust. “You’ve really fucked up, Asmodai.”

Isaiah’s mouth twitches a little at the name.

Above the top of the note, in the picture, Faoust can see Asmodai staring at the camera. There is no fear, nothing pathetic in the way he looks. Resolute. Certain. Final.

Faoust frowns. He had hoped for a bit more fight. But this is sort of like putting down a rabid dog at this point. It's not enjoyable for anyone involved.

Faoust: "tell him I'm disappointed that it came to this"

Faoust: "tell him I'll be there soon. As soon as my magic is back"

Dorien reads his phone, and before he can speak another note is being waved at him that reads “tell him come talk to me himself. This is fucking ridiculous.” Dorien sighs and snatches the note, snapping a picture for Faoust. There is a touch of defiance in Isaiah’s eye.

Faoust's lip curls in irritation and a tiny bit of embarrassment. Fine.

Faoust makes his way to the hospital, to the third floor, to the charge nurse.

“Looking for my friend,” says Faoust, “A John Doe?”

The charge nurse points with a pen. “The room with the officer. There’s already a visitor and technically I shouldn’t let too many people visit at once, but you know what? The world is hell. This hospital is hell. Go nuts.”

“Amen,” Faoust replies, heading over to the officer. “Hi, I'm here for my friend. I guess I have to answer questions first?”

The officer squints up at him suspiciously. “Damn, did the city call a prettyboy convention and I missed the memo?” She lets the chair rest back on all four legs. “I dunno, what do you know about what happened to your friend?”

“Not much. We were out partying, I know pandemic and all, but spare me the lecture. I told him goodbye and to call me when he got home but he never did.” Faoust pauses. “I heard he's bad. Maybe a hit and run?”

“Sure. Sure. Right.” The officer eyes him for a moment. “You’re a better liar than your friend. Go on in.”

“Liar? I- ugh. Fine.” He gives up on the officer and goes in the room.

“Alright you piece of shit. I'm here. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Isaiah looks at Faoust appreciatively. Yeah, he can see why he did all that shit. He sighs, wishing he could just fucking talk, and settles for hurriedly writing on the notepad.

Dorien mutters softly to Faoust. “He can’t talk..apparently.”

Faoust chuckles a little. “I should expect so.”

Isaiah rips off the note and holds it out. It begins with “A” scratched out and then “I resented the power you had over me. Wanted you to suffer. Wanted to kill you, and Dorien, and take your name, take your power. And didn’t want to kill you. Wanted to fuck and kill with you. Poorer judgment won out. Tried to make you suffer.” He sighs, frustrated at the time it takes to write, already writing on a new note.

Faoust reads the note and sighs. It was just as he thought.

“I wanted to just keep it fun and casual.” Faoust grits out through his teeth, “Why did you have to complicate things?”

Isaiah tosses Faoust a finished note: “No point in apologies. Won’t change what was done. No actions to right it” and starts writing a response to the question, tapping the pen on his chin, thinking.

“Wasn’t as fun fucking and killing without you. Didn’t like that.”

“That's called friendship, you absolute dolt.”

Isaiah pauses, and writes “Asmodai didn’t do well with having friends.”

Faoust runs his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Wait-Asmodai? Third person? Who the fuck are we talking to then?”

Isaiah makes a face. It’s difficult to explain. He writes. “I am. Was. Asmodai. For too long I think.”

He pauses, rolls his eye. He doesn’t feel like Isaiah either.

“I did what he did. But don’t feel what he felt, anymore. Memories, yes. Feeling? No.”

Faoust pauses. “So is..is Asmodai gone?”

“Depends on what you mean. The me that felt what he—I felt?”

Isaiah makes a quiet frustrated noise and slams the pen down. He is so tired of writing. He jots another note, mindful of trying to do magic around either of them. “Can I try magic on my voice? You mind?”

Faoust shrugs. “Go for it.”

Isaiah holds his right hand around his throat, eye closed. Healing has never been his strong suit, but he knows enough to get by. He just needs to be able to talk. His hand glows faintly.

When he speaks, his voice is rough, not much volume to it but it’s more than a whisper.

“If I don’t feel the things I felt when I called myself Asmodai, am I Asmodai?”

Faoust thinks. This complicates matters. “I'll be frank. If I were to leave you be, what would you do? Don't lie to me.”

“I would leave you alone.” Isaiah shrugs. “The things I ...Asmodai...I felt, I know them. Factually. I don’t feel them anymore.” He looks at Faoust sharply. “But I am responsible for what I did.”

Faoust thinks for a moment. “This is complicated. I'll need some time with this. What do you think you'll do when you're out of the hospital?”

“What do you mean, when I’m out of the hospital? You’re going to kill me. No further planning needed.”

“Well, I was thinking about waiting when you got out of the hospital regardless.”

Isaiah sighs. “Wish I’d known that sooner. Might’ve kept this magical existential crisis at bay.” He shakes his head. “No. Probably not. Asmodai—I. Fucked up too much. There was no way he...I...would win. It’s certain. You will kill me.”  He shakes his head again.

“Look. I don't want to kill you. Asmodai. At all. At this point it's about putting down an animal. That's all. And now there's this whole thing that you're not even who I knew anymore? This complicates things. Shit, if I were to kill you, it wouldn't even feel right.”

Isaiah makes a frustrated noise. “Fuck. The only reason I’m like this is because you’re going to kill me.”

“Do you want me to kill you?”

Isaiah dodges the question. “Back when I started killing to take power and names, I bound my own name away, far beyond my memory, and it would only come back if I was certain I was going to die. So I could die not as whatever fucking asshole whose name I stole. But as myself. Or at least. In the name I was born with, right?

“I was Asmodai. I was happy being Asmodai. But now?

“I’m no more Asmodai than I am this damn name my shit mother gave me.”

Faoust thinks. “Well, look. Fine. I'll kill you. Put you down. But I have to wait. I can't do anything until I have my magic back.”

Isaiah twists his lips a little. “Hm. Can’t help there. Told your boy here, I don’t have a key for the cuffs.”

This whole time, Dorien has just been watching, arms crossed and not believing this bullshit.

“Yeah,” Faoust says, “I heard. I've just got to wait. So you've got to wait.”

Isaiah sighs again. “Isaiah. Isaiah James. My name.” He shrugs. “Me. Not me.”

Isaiah twists his lips briefly in disgust at the taste of his own name on his tongue. “If you’re going to kill me, you ought to have my name.”

Faoust nods and rubs his face. “Look, I'll put you down. I will. But it's going to take like at least a week for me to get my magic back.”

Isaiah gives another shrug. “You know where to find me. I know what I’ve done. It’s only right.”

“Alright. You're not going anywhere?”

Isaiah gives him a flat look. “Where and how the hell would I manage to do that?”

“I mean, you've got magic. I don't. You could pull out some magic to take yourself somewhere.”

Isaiah rubs his fingers together on his right hand, little sparks arcing between them as he stares vacantly at his hand. “Where would I go? For what purpose? I know my fate.”

Faoust nods, satisfied. “Alright. Well then, we'll be on our way. You've got my number.”

Isaiah nods, dismissing the sparks. “I’ll be waiting.”

Isaiah wonders if it’s worth healing himself--physically, at any rate. He closes his eye and takes stock of all his pain. So many choices. And what else is he supposed to do with his time? The burns, he thinks, he will work on those. He hovers his right hand over his burned forearm, wrapped loosely in the day’s fresh gauze, and slowly works a healing spell, distracted by memories of the fight. Remembering the moment it all turned on him, when help came for Faoust while he had no one. He shakes his head, his thoughts wandering around. So many emotions that ruled him that he’s no longer bound by. Though perhaps he should be. He ought to be more angry. But he is mostly hollowed out. He does not even notice when his thoughts slip over the witch and his magic doesn’t so much as flicker, the healing steadily and slowly knitting in his skin.

Those were Asmodai’s problems.

The worst part is the waiting. Or perhaps the worst part, right now, is the burns on his arm—his healing magic is slow, the process tedious, and his head is empty of any warming memory to draw upon to make the healing go faster. There are memories, so many memories, but as he turns his mind to each of them in turn he feels nothing he can pull from. Perhaps it would have been better not to restore the nerve endings that had been burnt away—as they return, so too returns the opportunity for fresh pain to scream through his senses. And the drugs have trouble working their wonders as his magic interferes with the natural order of his body. Too late now, he’s already started this project. When the nurses aren’t looking in on him, he hovers his hand over the burned arm and continues the laborious process of working healing magic. Healing was never his forte. It still isn’t. Good to know, though it still seems like all he knows is a catalogue of things he was, and now isn’t.

Though perhaps, Isaiah thinks, it’s pointless to dwell on. Does he need that badly to know who he is now, if he’s only going to die? Not that he wants to die. Though, he can tell, Asmodai didn’t want to die in a particularly crazed and desperate way that Isaiah no longer feels. He doesn’t want to die, but then, he doesn’t feel a clear sense that he wants much of anything right now. From the moment the spell he placed upon himself fell away, he has simply accepted the fact of his death. Imminent. Inevitable. Deserved.

Asmodai was awful—not in a way that Isaiah feels, merely as a summary of fact considering the things that he’d done. The drives that motivated him. But to be fair, Isaiah had not been a good person either. No. He had been awful too. Killed people. Tortured them. Enjoyed it. Sought power beyond his measure, and took it.

Killed the dark wizard who taught him everything.

Sealed himself away.

What had he thought would happen, if this spell had ever had cause to come undone? He can’t remember, but he is pretty sure he would not have guessed it would leave him like this. So...uncertain.

Regret implies a level of sadness Isaiah doesn’t feel. He...wishes he had been someone different though. He wishes he had acted differently. Had recognized his limits. Recognized battles he wouldn’t win, and had the sense not to fight them.

The nurse surely notices when Isaiah’s arm does not look as bad off today as it did yesterday, putting fresh gauze on, but says nothing. Discreetly checks the patient chart—yes, third degree burns. It definitely said the patient had third degree burns. But you don’t last long in this town by asking inconvenient questions. Since the patient is conscious now, staring out the window, the nurse offers him his phone from his belongings and plugs it in for him. There’s a crack across the screen, but the phone works.

Isaiah has been working on healing his arm. It is such a slow, deliberate process. He isn’t sure why he’s doing it, but now that he’s started he’s committed to continuing. After all, what else has he got to do? His arm is still a mess of burnt tissue and pain, fresh nerve endings and the testament to his limitations.

Later, he looks through his phone, deleting pictures that bring him no particular joy to look at. Eventually he texts Faoust, “Have you decided how you’ll do it?” and nothing else.

Faoust: “something quick. Could stab you right in the heart.”

The heart had been Asmodai’s favorite, ripped from his victims—sometimes raw, other times he’d toast them before devouring them whole.

Isaiah: “poetic. fitting.”

Faoust: "look man. I really don't want to do this. You could go about your business. I don't care"

Isaiah sighs, and leaves the message on read for a few minutes. He thinks.

Isaiah: “I did wrong by you. I accept responsibility for it.”

Faoust: "and I'm telling you it's fine."

Isaiah waits again before responding.

Isaiah: “now I’m the one that needs to think on that”

Faoust: "Asmodai tried to kill me. He failed. You're here now. Not the same as Asmodai. It's not the same kill for me. Look, I beat the shit out of you. That should cover it. Do you really want to die?"

Isaiah sighs to himself.

Isaiah: “no, I don’t”

Faoust: "then I'm giving you your fucking out. Take it."

Isaiah pauses. Again, Faoust giving him the opportunity not to die, after everything he...Asmodai...he did. After so many times he honestly deserved to die. He was a warped and twisted thing, not right, and surely not to be trusted. But fuck. He didn’t really want to die.

Isaiah: “...ok.”

Isaiah: “fine”

Faoust: "want me to call a healer for you?"

Isaiah: “...seriously?”

Faoust: "otherwise you're going to be stuck at the hospital forever. No offense but I want you out of here."

Isaiah: “sure, sure. If I’m healing myself it’ll take forever”

Faoust: "you can't kill her"

Isaiah: “of course”

Isaiah thinks about the warning, which is fair, considering his history. He doesn’t even feel like killing anyone right now. Which is strange to him. He wonders to himself as he waits if this is the right thing to do, not insisting Faoust kill him. If he’s just avoiding fate and what he deserves. But when Faoust arrives in his hospital room with a healer, and she uses magic to transport the three of them out of his hospital room, he just watches quietly, making no protest. The empty alley she takes them to is cold, and Isaiah’s broken body falls to the ground painfully without a bed beneath him anymore.

He sucks it up, grits his teeth, and withstands the pain and the cold. Not out of any sense of pride, but because he feels he deserves it. He lists out for the healer the procedures the doctors had done, along with his own meager attempts at healing, and in turn, she tells him what she’ll be able to do. The metal they used to set his bones will always bring him some pain and discomfort, and there’s nothing she can do for his eye, the curse--

“The eye,” says Isaiah, touching his cheek lightly, “has been there a long time now. It’s fine.”

The magic of healing is painful, and there is a lot of it to be done. Isaiah doesn’t scream, not the way he did when Faoust beat him in the first place. He endures, and tries to focus on the fact that he deserves this pain. This doesn’t stop a few strangled screams and growls from bubbling up. Faoust watches impassively, satisfied.

When it’s finished, Isaiah breathes heavily for a moment, feeling every nerve on fire, taking stock of how he feels. He sits up, slowly, impressed and in awe. He gives thanks to the healer, to Faoust, and stands up shakily on knees that are no longer shattered. He summons up the illusion of clothes over his hospital gown, with no idea where he ought to go, what he ought to do. When Faoust tells him to get the fuck out of here, he readily agrees. Not the first town he’s been kicked out of. Always violent. Always deserved.

He could teleport himself, but where the hell would he go? There’s nowhere he belongs. There’s a dull ache in his bones, and he picks a cardinal direction and starts walking toward it. The speed doesn’t matter. Isaiah doesn’t strictly need actual clothes. He could use magic to keep himself warm. But the first window shop he passes, he swaps his hospital gown for the outfit on display, and keeps walking. He walks until he’s passed by a sign indicating leaving/entering, the liminal space of one town bleeding into another, goes to the first clean motel he can find, uses his magic to procure a room, and passes out after having walked for hours.

At the hospital, a call is placed to 911. A patient is missing.

The officer assigned to take the report is the same one who had been guarding the room when Dorien and Faoust visited. With the most deadpan expression, she questions the charge nurse on duty, intoning dully, “wow, just fucking vanished, huh?”

She files a missing persons report for “Asmodai / Isaiah James,” because in spite of trying not to hear things she doesn’t want to have to question, she hears them anyway. She makes note of possible contacts / persons of interest, “Dorien” and “Faoust,” and submits her report to see if she can get away with not following up on anything further.

She doesn’t even bother running any checks on any of the names. She doesn’t find anything out about a decades-old missing persons report for a runaway boy of the name Isaiah James out of Ohio. If anyone bothered to fingerprint the victim at all to try to ID him while he was unconscious, the prints have been lost.

After all, a lot of people go missing in this town.

It’s just one more.

Her supervisor literally flips a coin to decide if such absolute bullshit shoddy work will be accepted. Tails. That’s a nope. He rejects the report, and sends her a CAD message: “hit the streets and try again sweetie.”

Officer Dannic “Dani” Voros swears, loudly, in her patrol car in the hospital parking lot, and slams her computer shut. Growls, and opens it again to search for any information she can find about Dorien and Faoust. If she can find anything, she’ll talk to them at least.

Here’s what she finds: no drivers licenses. No arrest records. No voter records. Nothing in any database she has access to. No hospital records, which no, her friend in the hospital records should NOT have looked up for her probably but dammit, this was important. Well, not important to her, but it’s what she was supposed to be doing and she was getting very annoyed with the lack of any hints of paper trail for those two.

She starts angrily and haphazardly googling search terms, and some combination of tall, mysterious, handsome, and Dorien does bring back a tabloid article about the enigmatic artist, which brings up several printed interviews and connections to a particular pre-teen punk rock band apparently bankrolled by Mr. Dorien Godforbidhehavealastname, and the names of its musicians. Actual names. First and last names, unlike those recordless bastards Dorien and Faoust. She searches the names. Property tax records. Bingo. A lead. And an address. She puts the patrol car in drive and heads out. One conversation largely conducted through the few-inch gap of a chained door later, Officer Voros has both probably offended another citizen with an inappropriate joke, and obtained an address for the two handsome strangers that called on her missing person.

The cold rain makes all this work extra annoying. She debates putting off the follow up until more clement weather. Or just never. Reluctantly she puts the patrol car in drive and heads to the address.

She looks at the apartment building as she pulls up. No, correction. She looks at the giant skeleton covered in Valentine’s decorations outside the apartment building as she pulls up. The apartment building itself is an afterthought. As she arrives, the weather around the apartment changes. Suddenly it is clear and 59 degrees.

Officer Voros just stares at the atmosphere and blinks at it like it has personally offended her. She twists in her seat to look back down the street at the weather there, then stares at the apartment again, and sinks back in her seat for a moment, closing her eyes, and thinks to herself, “thiiiiiiis. iiiiiis. some buuuuuuuullshiiiiiiiiit.”

She sighs a very angry sigh, gets out of the patrol car, and goes up to the appropriate door. She raps on the door with her very best authoritative knock.

Faoust opens the door and clocks the cop. “Hm.”

Officer Voros puts her hands on her hips and brightens comically. “And they said I’d never find the secret prettyboy convention! Those bastards once again were wrong.” She smiles, and doesn’t offer her name. “Evening citizen. I’m hoping you might help me with this absolute crazy missing persons case I’ve been cursed with.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Why, your dear friend or whatever bullshit you said at the time. Asmodai? Isaiah? You know, the guy SOMEBODY in this cursed plane of existence beat all to hell and put in the hospital.”

“Wait, wait, wait. How did he go missing? He couldn't stand, let alone walk? How did you lose him?”

“Yeah! That’s the crazy part, he just. Fucking. Vanished. Shattered kneecaps, pelvis, and all. Gone. Between you and me, that’s on the hospital. We weren’t watching him anymore at that point, but now it IS my problem to, you know. Figure out what the fuck happened and make sure there’s not a homicide investigation that should be happening here.”

Faoust shakes his head in disbelief as he tries to come up with a plan. “I could give you his motel room and location if you want? I mean, I haven't heard from him since I went to go see him?”

“Sure, sure. And it’s not like it’s illegal for him to leave the hospital. If he’s fine, I just need to lay eyes on him. It just seems real fucking suspiciously inconceivable how he’d have managed that in the state he was in, ya know?”

“Yeah, no, for sure. Let me go get some paper.”

Faoust leaves her at the front door and digs around in drawers looking for paper and pen. She stands at the front door, looking inside, pondering Faoust the whole while. He hands her a note with the address of the motel Asmodai had been staying at.

“Let me know if you find anything, yeah?”

Officer Voros takes the paper. “Of course.” She takes a blank card out of her pocket, a generic business card for the police department that doesn’t have her name on it. She writes down a phone number and offers the card to Faoust. “You think of anything else helpful, call or text me. Or if your prettyboy friend Dorien knows anything either.”

“Dorien doesn't know anything. At all. Not a braincell up there. But I'll keep it in mind.” Faoust takes the card and pockets it.

“Thanks. Stay safe citizen.” She heads down the steps and back to her patrol car, looking at the address. She knows the motel.

Officer Voros looks back toward Faoust from her patrol car for a long minute before she pulls out. She doesn’t have any sort of proof necessarily, just a feeling that Faoust was lying quite smoothly out of every side of his head right to her face. She types up a field contact for alias Faoust along with the address before she leaves.

Asmodai’s motel room ends up being a dead end. There’s nothing obviously off about the room, but she gets a weird vibe. Still a suitcase here. Some knives. Nothing much else. She does not discover that the room is under a stolen credit card in another name. She doesn’t look up any other purchases that stolen card might have made to connect it to an abandoned rental car that was impounded on Faoust’s street. She types up her report and deletes “went on a wild fucking goose chase because my corporal is a dickhead” from the report.

Officer Voros swears loudly, because she realizes she didn’t ask Faoust if the mysteriously vanished bastard had. a fucking. cell phone number. She groans. She decides she’ll pretend to have thought of that tomorrow, because she doesn’t want to follow up now.

The weak and cloudy light of morning is scattered further by the cheap, hazy curtains pulled loosely across the window. Isaiah wakes up, still dressed in his stolen clothes where he passed out on top of the covers. There it is—a dull ache in his bones, a twinge in his hips and knees as he pushes himself up to sit. He looks down at his palms, and they are smooth and untroubled, marked by nothing but the simple creases of where his hand folds. He flexes his left hand. The countless scars that had made a tangled nest there in his palm, the countless times he’d cut and called upon blood magic and done only a just-good-enough job of closing the wounds, when he remembered to heal himself at all, they’re all gone.

Isaiah doesn’t even have a knife, he realizes. His...Asmodai’s favored knives were either in the clothes left in the hospital, in the rental car, or in the motel room he has no intention of returning to. But it feels like he should have a knife. He has no money, but money isn’t too necessary when you’re flush with magic and short on moral qualms against stealing.

He heads out for the day to get a knife, zipping up his stolen coat. Something simple. New. He goes to the nearest outdoors store and sees a nice Benchmade folding knife with a black-coated blade and white handle and feels drawn to it. With an effortless bit of magic, the knife disappears from the case and appears in his pocket as he leaves the parking lot.

Isaiah flips the knife open experimentally, admires it, turning his wrist this way and that to see the sides of the blade. He unlocks the blade and closes it again, clipping the knife in his pocket. He doesn’t have a plan for it, but it felt appropriate in his hand.

Isaiah has been somewhat skirting around thinking about this fact, but taking the knife in his hand he has to confront it. He’s not someone who can go work a 9 to 5 job, take a little paycheck home, find someone sweet to love him and love in turn. Whatever he does next isn’t going to be some contented kind of life. That wasn’t the lot he was born to.

What he is good at...all he has ever been good at, is violence.

He walks slowly back to the current motel. He takes the knife out of his pocket, opening and closing it as he goes, thinking to himself. Magic, and violence. Magic and violence. This is all he’s ever known. Even if he wanted to do something else, how could he, at this point? He’s not a good person. And surely nothing he is capable of can be used for good ends. He hasn’t killed anyone in so many days now, and strangest of all, doesn’t feel particularly compelled to. Not averse to it either. But the stirring in his blood that craved to see the icy glint of fear through tears before an untimely death doesn’t move him, for now.

Officer Voros follows up with Faoust the next night, gets a phone number for her missing person, and puts in a request for a ping before taking a nap in her patrol car. She’ll follow up further in daylight hours. Before ending her night shift, Officer Voros tries to call the phone number Faoust provided for the missing person. It’s almost 6am, of course he doesn’t answer. She leaves a voicemail indicating for him to call the communications center so they can speak.

The next day, Officer Voros, as soon as assembly is done, goes to her patrol car and puts herself on a follow up before any calls can be assigned to her. She tries calling the number again. Isaiah looks at his phone. A blocked number. He silences the phone without answering, because who would be calling him? He hasn’t bothered checking his voicemail either, since he didn’t recognize the number that called. He’ll check it eventually. He sits in his motel room, opening and closing his stolen knife.

Officer Voros checks the latitude and longitude of the ping. Another motel. It’s within a mile of what technically counts as her jurisdiction, so technically she CAN go investigate her own damn self, OR she can call her counterparts in the next town over to check for her. She debates which sounds like more work. With an agonized groan that can surely be heard two counties over, Officer Voros puts her patrol car in drive and heads for the motel.

Officer Voros checks with the front desk, but thanks to his use of magic there’s no one checked in by the names of Asmodai or Isaiah James. She pulls up the coordinates on her phone to get as close as possible to the ping, and starts knocking on doors fruitlessly, starting with the ground floor. She has an idea, and dials the number again, and faintly hears a ring from a couple doors down. A little excited in spite of herself, she hustles down to the door and knocks.

Asmodai would’ve checked through the peephole before opening the door, if he opened it at all. Isaiah does not care, and opens the door as he silences his phone again, looking up from the phone at the officer.

“There you are, you mysterious bastard! Alive and unmurdered, and my hatred of paperwork thanks you for that.”

Isaiah feels a slight needle of panic, if only because he has done a lot of things that would not put him on the good side of the police. His eye darts briefly to her neck and back to meet her eyes.

“Here I am. Alive. Unmurdered, as you say.”

Officer Voros looks him up and down, frowning. This is definitely the same guy, that’s not a common scar after all, but he’s clearly not just unmurdered, but very significantly undamaged. “Didn’t you have a hell of a lot of shattered bones?”

Isaiah shrugs. “Modern medicine is a miracle.”

Officer Voros just blinks at him. She doesn’t believe him for a moment. “And I don’t suppose you might be able to tell me how you managed to make your way so secretly out of the hospital that they felt compelled to report you as a missing person?”

“Sorry, no. Not sure what the miscommunication was there. Quite obviously, I left the hospital.”

“Quite. Obviously. Of course.”

Isaiah smiles wanly. “Am I in trouble?”

Officer Voros continues looking him over suspiciously. “I suppose not. You left your paperwork from the hospital.” She hands him a stack of paperwork and billing statements. “Somehow.”

Isaiah takes the papers. “Oh, thanks.”

“And the belongings you came in with. Are still at the hospital.”

“Oops.”

“And a bunch of shit I’m guessing belongs to you is all left at another cheap motel.”

“You think?”

“No,” Officer Voros snaps. “I try to avoid thinking whenever I can. But I do think some weird ass shit is involved here with you.”

Isaiah’s hand twitches slightly, and he presses his lips together. “Hm.”

“But shit being weird isn’t my problem. Not my jurisdiction. So I suppose I don’t give a fuck. Glad you’re not murdered. Take care. Call your friends, they’re pretending to be worried about you.” She heads back to her patrol car.

Isaiah slowly lets out a tensely held breath.

Officer Voros sits in the parking lot, wrapping up her report. She tries calling Faoust from her blocked number. He answers, not knowing any better.

“Solid citizen! Faoust right? Your favorite friend-finding officer here. Found your friend.”

“Oh my god! Where was he? Is he ok?”

“He’s better than ok, considering the state I last saw him in. Damn near miraculous recovery. He’s just outside of town, another motel not far off the highway.”

“Oh man, thanks so much for finding him. I'll have to go see him. Are you able to give me the address?”

“That depends, are you going there to murder him?”

“Why the hell would Igo there to murder him?”

“Aaaa I’m just fucking with you. I’ve got a nice neat solved missing persons case here and if you went and murdered him it would just be an assfuck of paperwork that I don’t want to have to deal with is all.”

“Fucked up joke, officer.”

“Yeah, file a complaint on me if you’d like. Oh, right, address,” she says, and gives him the address and room of the Quality Inn where Isaiah is staying.

“Thank you. Despite the fucked up joke, I'm glad you found him.”

“Just doing my sworn duty and all that. Stay safe citizen,” she says and hangs up.

Without fully realizing it, Officer Voros has solved the first missing persons case in the department in nearly a year.

Officer Voros always keeps a spare portable radio among her belongings. She managed to get it more or less off the record, so that when she inevitably loses track of her actual radio again, she can make do with the backup until the original eventually resurfaces, and not get all manner of shit from her corporal for losing her radio AGAIN. She doesn’t think hard on the fact that her radio is once again MIA. It will turn up in time.

In his motel room, Isaiah switches the radio on, and fiddles between channels.

Isaiah lays on the bed, one hand manipulating the knife—open, closed, open, closed, each motion with a satisfying little sound—the other hand resting on the radio on his chest, occasionally following the chatter of traffic to a side channel. An officer keys up, her voice annoyed and muttering over sounds of entitlement in the background—“6676 to 200, switch to 2”—and Isaiah flips the radio to channel 2, partly because he is curious and partly because it sounds like the officer from the other night.

The officer keys up, he’s quite sure it’s her, and a voice that sounds like it expects the world laid compliantly at its feet cuts through the backdrop of everything the officer says

6676: 200 you on?

—this is AMERICA, I have RIGHTS, I demand to speak to your SUPERVISOR, I—

200: go’on whatcha got

—what is your NAME, no WHAT is your NAME—

6676: *you can hear the eye roll in her voice* can you just come over here and deal with this.

There’s a final indignant “do you even KNOW” in the background before the supervisor cuts over the traffic to advise he’s en route. Isaiah’s thumb closes the knife again with a sense of finality. He doesn’t care about the officers, but the woman in the background had the sort of voice you’d love to cut right out of her throat.

Isaiah sits up, goes to put the radio aside but pulls it back in front of him again. He focuses on the radio, whatever traces of grit and grime and little skin cells from the officer still stick to the plasticky radio, and does a tracking spell. He switches the radio off, puts it on the bedside table, and grabs his jacket on the way out the door.

Isaiah returns to his motel room. Hands clean. Knife clean.

He did not appear with an ear-splitting bang, as the witch does. He knows ways to move through shadows and though it isn’t instantaneous, it’s a hell of a lot quieter. Isaiah remained in the shadows, waiting. There, yes, the officer from the other night, and there, that must be 200, the human embodiment of an industrial refrigerator crossed with a boulder, and there. Jabbing her finger, practically frothing at the mouth, hair crisply cut, every line in her body set in the conviction of her own righteousness and that she should get what she wants. Isaiah didn’t even try to listen to what she was saying. It didn’t matter. He waited.

When the officers left, the woman turned to her minivan to get in. Or, that was what she intended to do. But she found as she walked, it was like her body was being pushed and pulled, and the sound had left her voice, and she walked into the shadows across the parking lot.

Without saying a word, Isaiah came up quickly behind her and slit her throat, and before a drop could hit the concrete sent her body and all its rapidly spilling blood deep, deep into the earth below.

Magic cleaned the knife. Magic cleaned his hands. He slipped back into the shadows and hurried to get the hell back out of Faoust’s town.

Isaiah returned to his motel room, everything clean. Feeling a certain ...satisfaction? Correctness? A bit of lost unease dissolved away within him.

Of course, Isaiah reflects on how different this murder was. He flicks the knife, open and closed. When he thinks of himself as he was, he has gotten in the habit of thinking of himself as an entirely separate person now. Asmodai was. Asmodai would have. So on. Asmodai would have taken far more enjoyment from the killing. Asmodai would have tasted the blood on the knife. Asmodai would have savored the delicious fear in her eyes, for as long as possible. Asmodai would have had the possibility of someone to share the experience with, though he resented so much about that fact. Asmodai was an idiot.

Isaiah switches the radio back on, quietly, to have something to listen to, since that’s all he has.

When Officer Voros was handling the latest missing person case early this morning, part of her was perversely satisfied—maybe that bitch descended back to hell where she belonged—and that other part of her, the part made of intuitions that guessed too correctly, that had long ago tried to bring up things that had since gone ignored, the part that she did her best to keep buried, that part felt a sharp jolt of unease. She was, officially, the last person to have seen the missing person. There was a security camera on the other side of the parking lot, and the footage made no sense. The victim—victim? Why was she already thinking victim?—missing bitch, then, started walking to her car, and then turned, and walked off to the far side of the parking lot, into grainy shadow. It didn’t look like someone had called out to her, she just...decided to go on some random bitch walk. In the dark of early morning hours, Officer Voros walked around the spot she went off to, clicking on her flashlight, looking for clues. Nothing.

It seemed appropriate for Isaiah to return to murder on his own...it’s all he knows. He’s not suddenly a good person. He’s not full of remorse for everything he did. It’s all just facts. Things that happened that can’t be changed.

He listens to the radio again today, and thinks with a sort of mirthless chuckle how hypocritical it would be for him to kill some of the people he’s hearing about. “If I were cutting throats for that, have to start with myself,” he thinks, over and over and over. Asmodai craved victims, sought them out. Isaiah is content to see what serendipity will bring.

Isaiah struck out into town yesterday to find a charger for his stolen radio. Listening gives him something to do besides think. He could have just gotten a commercial police scanner, or used an app on his phone to listen in, but that didn’t have the same appeal. He listens carefully, mentally keeping track of the addresses and where the officers are, when it’s announced anyway. The officer from the other night he can find easily enough, but without addresses and nothing to trace them with, magically speaking, finding any of these other officers would be incredibly difficult. Well, to do in a timely fashion anyway.

So he listens, and waits, hoping to feel that same jolt of dead certainty, knowing a voice spoke that would be his to kill.

Isaiah knows. An officer keys up “put me out with an animal problem at” and gives an address, and just before the radio cuts out he hears a man in the background, derisive, say “I don’t understand, it’s just a stupid—“ before being cut off by the end of the transmission. That voice. He felt it, like a nail being slashed at high speed across a chalkboard, a string plucked so hard it snaps, THAT is a man he needs to kill. He is equal parts thrilled and yet feels the calm certainty slipping over him. His knife is ready. He knows where to go. He slips out into the cold rain.

Sliding through shadows. Waiting. The man goes inside, alone. Isaiah slips inside, without a word, the only sound made is his knife blade locking into place. The man finds his voice is gone. The man walks toward Isaiah, against his own will, and kneels before him, fear shining in his eyes. Isaiah looks down, cold, comes around from behind, threads his fingers in the man’s hair and pulls back, hard, exposing his neck. He draws the blade firm and fast across the neck, and like the woman before Isaiah sends the body hundreds of feet into the ground below before a drop of blood can hit the floor.

He looks at the blood on the knife, for a moment, imagines the taste on his tongue like a mouth full of pennies. It doesn’t appeal to him, not right now. Magic cleans the blade, cleans the bit of blood on his hands, cleans the scene of any trace evidence, and Isaiah slips away.

- NEXT SNIPPET -

[fiction-in-my-blood]

MC Being Lesbian Fluff/Smut-ish (MWA7R)

I thought it’d be pretty funny to think of how stories would turn out if the MC was gay. So basically this is a shit post but heh heh let’s see how it goes.

Warning: Mature, Reference to sex, Mild language.

~~~~~~

After the company wide meeting appointing the new special executives, I make my way up to the CEO’s office to collect my reward. This is all pretty sus. I should have asked to sign later. I sighed to myself, dropping my face into my hands as I walked down the hall. 

“Hey, MC, nice work!” A female coworker I’m... close with laughs as she passing me and I sigh. She’s smirking, probably imagining me naked after all the times we’ve rolled around in each other’s bed after company parties. Luckily, she doesn’t work in my division, so we only see each other in the halls, but somehow she always finds me.

“Still available for later?” She pretends to hand me a file, drawing close so she can whisper in my ear. I blush, having completely forgotten about the meeting we organised. I don’t know how today will turn out after how crazy its already been.

“I’ll text you if my plans change.” I force a smile and this time she sighs. 

“So tense. You need to relax.” Her voice is low as she discreetly runs her fingers down my back and gives my ass a quick pinch. I squeak, not expecting it, and she laughs, continuing her voyage back to her office.

~~~~~~

My grandfather is- was the CEO of the company I work at and I have to marry a man? That’s all I got from what the now acting CEO, Hayami explained. I was distraught, embarrassed and confused. First of all, what asshole doesn’t introduce himself to his own granddaughter? Well, maybe I should be thankful for that, he could have disowned me too. Who’s to say he didn’t already know I was gay? Well, him insisting I marry a man would be a clue to his ignorance. 

“Um, there’s just one thing.” I laugh awkwardly as Seiichiro asks if any of us have any questions. Ren and Yamato aren’t here, so I don’t feel as embarrassed to come out to all these strikingly handsome men... Until they burst through the door... And agree to join the marriage program. I try to interrupt their conversation, but they seem too busy planning what to do with me to listen. Eventually, I get tired. 

“I’m not marrying anyone in this room!” I announce as loudly as possible and they all freeze, turning to me with varying degrees of amusement or annoyance. 

“You have to, you signed this contract.” Seiichiro smirked, pushing forward the evidence he’s already threatened me with. I cross my arms, wishing I was in a closet on the other side of the planet- excuse the pun. 

“I’m not marrying anyone because I’m not interested in men.” Trying my best to ignore my two childhood best friends standing either side of me, I blush, avoiding all the astonished looks that take over their faces. I didn’t realise I was only attracted to women until after they graduated, and I’m too awkward to just come out and say it, they never needed to know anyway. Arisa and Yumi know, mainly because they walked in on me and my lady friend making out on my desk late one night at the office, but no one else does.

“You’re gay? This is just perfect!” Asahi laughs, obviously amused by this development.

“MC... Why-?” Yamato frowns his brows at me but I give him the look. The look that says this really isn’t the time for him to be acting brotherly. 

“This is a predicament.” Seiichiro’s face screws up in contemplation, glaring at the document in his hands as he tries to think of what else to do. 

“Yeah, it’s a real shame... So I’m gonna go...” I lead off, already turning around o leave the room when I hit face-to-chest contact with someone who snuck up behind me. Blushing, I step back, only to see Hiroto smirking down at me. 

“I do like a woman who likes to experiment.” 

This time, I laugh. Mainly because I cannot believe he just said that. “You’re a pig.” I spit, pushing him to the side so I can make it out of this room with as much dignity as I came here with. God, I hated coming out. Why can’t it just be normal to be a homo.

~~~~~~

That night, I definitely called over my lady friend. An agreement of our working relationship is that we share no feelings, its just sex, but I’m so pent up with frustration I may have dominated a little more than I usually do. Which, thankfully, she doesn’t seem to mind.

Panting on the bed in my apartment, I gazing up at the ceiling, resting my head on her arm. 

“You... You really went there today.” Her breathing was just as ragged and, although her tone was light-hearted, I grew worried I had hurt or annoyed her. “No, its fine. I liked it. But, there’s something bothering you? After you won all that money, I would have thought you were buying me champagne.” She chuckles, sitting up once I did to gauge her expression and grabbing a shirt off the floor, not checking if it was hers or mine. 

“I didn’t win money.” I sighed, throwing my head back against my pillow as I spread my limbs as I far as I could. I needed a massage. I was still pissed by what the financial group’s executive said and how I was probably still going to get pushed into that situation. The bed dipped beside me as my sex friend rested her head on my chest. 

“You’re heart’s racing, but that might be because you just gave me the best orgasm I’ve ever had.” She jokes, worried but trying to keep the conversation light, and I huff a chuckle.

“I won a husband.” I didn’t mind telling her what happened today. We trusted each other with our secret and I knew she didn’t like gossip. But, I could tell my admission made her concerned when she lifted herself up on her arms and stared into my eyes. She was trying to see if their was a teasing glint in my eyes, but, alas, this was not a prank.

“Apparently, I’m the granddaughter of the late CEO and I need to marry one of the Special Executives unless the company folds. That contract I signed? A fucking marriage contract!” I growled, getting more annoyed by the second. I still hadn’t put any clothes on, the sheet draped over my lower half, but I was getting hot with anger. What kind of grandfather, not to mention CEO, makes that kind of deal?!

“That’s not legal.” Being a part of the company’s legal team, my bed buddy frowned her brows as I sat up, resting my head against the back board, keeping my gaze on the ceiling to try and stop my tears. I. Was. So. Annoyed. It took me a long time to admit to myself I liked... loved women and now I’m being pushed into a loveless marriage with a man!

“Of course it isn’t, but that’s not gonna stop Sanno’s right-hand man.” I said the title in a funny voice, which made my friend giggle, but I just sighed at my poor attempt of a joke. We’re silent for a moment, both of us in deep contemplation over the strange change of events. 

“Marry me.” She suddenly says and my gaze jerks to her. Her expression is serious, more than I’ve ever seen it, and I become increasingly aware that I am butt-ass naked. 

“Wh-What?” I blush. I’ll admit, I had more feelings for her than I should have. She’s funny, sweet and incredibly beautiful. Even though she pushes the line of what’s appropriate in the workplace, it’s light-hearted. I’ve never had a bad time with her. Not to mention how good a cook she is. How unbelievably smart. We’ve been at this for months. 6 whole months since we hooked up at the office Christmas party. But, we’ve never gone on a date. I’ve never met any of her friends, and the only time she’s met mine is when we were half naked, grinding on each other in my apartment, and they ran out seconds after they walked in. 

“Come on, MC, we both know we have a greater connection than just in the bedroom. I... I’ve loved you for a long time now, I was so scared to say it, but if we say you’re already engaged, they won’t be able to push you into anything.” She cups my cheek in her hand, her eyes growing dewy and almost childlike. I feel my own eyes grow with tears. 

“B-But that means you’ll have to come out. What about your job? If anyone knew you were gay, won’t they look down on you?” I frowned my brows, not wanting her to ruin her life for me. Although, my heart fluttered with each word she spoke. 

“My team knows, they have no problem with it. And they can’t fire me, its against the law. We’re in separate divisions, so we won’t get in trouble. I’m not scared if I’ve got you to back me.” Her gaze nervously drops for a moment, but the seriousness within them returns two-fold when we make eye contact again. I feel my face blush darkly and I gulp to try and wet my throat enough to speak without a shaky voice. “So, will you marry me?” 

“Y-Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you!” I start off quiet, but its difficult to hold in my excitement as I jump onto her, pushing my lips so fiercely against hers I would have worried I’d chip a tooth, but I was too happy. I feel vibrations of her chuckle as I clamber on top of her, my body alight with desire once again, even after the hours we went at it only moments ago. 

“You giving me newly-wed sex, now?” She sighed in pleasure as I practically ripped the top off her, hungrily kissing her neck. 

“I’m giving you everything.” I lean up to whisper in her ear before dipping down again. What followed were hours longer of exercise and love making, which I was definitely happy to have for the rest of my life. 

~~~~~~

“You’re already engaged?” Seiichiro didn’t look very impressed as I stood in front of his desk, a broad smile on my face. It was still a little embarrassing to say and, seeing as I had neither a ring on my finger or my partner beside me, it was hard to prove .Not to mention how exhausted I was when we kept each other up until morning, but I paid that no mind.

“And who is this partner of your’s? A woman, perhaps?” Likely not believing my excuse after walking out of the meeting yesterday, the acting CEO raised an eyebrow at me. 

Then, a knock came to the door and my heart fluttered. “You might want to answer that.” My smile grew and he frowned his brows, instructing the person to enter. 

There stood my beautiful bride-to-be, dressed in her sexy pant suit with a whole stack of sexy legal files tucked under her sexy arm. I might be a little biased.  She was going to help me get out of the contract. When our eyes met, my heart raced, making my face blush. She stepped forward, introducing herself as an employee of the company before bowing to our boss’s boss’s boss. 

“I would like to know how you thought you’d get away with forcing my fiancee to sign that marriage contract of your’s?” She smirked, Seiichiro’s expression faltering and my heart exploding at the word. Fiancee. Wow, I’ve never heard it sound so good. 

“You- And you- You’re-?” Seiichiro couldn’t wrap his small pee-brain around the idea and we both tried to stifle a laugh at the bewildered look on his normally stoic face. 

“Would you like me to prove it?” My fiancee- oh god I’ll never not get excited at saying that- wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close to her. Using all my self control not to jump on her right here and now, I mockingly slapped her arm, telling her how unprofessional this was. 

Before, however, she could release me, the doors the office opened once again.

“Sei, have you solved the-?” As we turn around, my soon-to-be-wife’s arms still wrapped around my waist, I see several of the men competing for my hand freeze the second they observe this scene. I blush, still as horrifically embarrassed by PDAs as I was before, but my girlfriend seems very amused, noted but the jump in her chest as she chuckles.

“You shouldn’t be looking at other marriage candidates when I’m around.” She whispered in my ear, guiding my gaze back to her with the pinch on my chin. I blush, mustering my courage to say what I want to say in front of all these eyes. 

“There’s no others.” I mumble before crashing my lips into her’s. We’re heatedly seeking each other for a moment, my fiancee maybe feeling a little possessive with her hand bunching my hair to pull me closer. Luckily, I have the wherewithal to pull back, although my breathing is a little ragged and my face is bright red as I smile sheepishly at her. 

“I think you’ll find all these documents prove intent and evidence of your crime. Oh, and if you think of firing me, I have a contract with the company that allows me to sue for wrongful termination. We’ll have a meeting at the end of the week to go over a consolidation arrangement for causing emotion harm to my fiancee. Good day, Mr Hayami.” My fiancee smiles as she hands over the papers she walked in here with and bows.

“I’ll see you at lunch.” She leans into my ear but speaks loud enough for the other’s to just about hear as she pinches my butt again, leaving with almost a skip in her step. 

“That was a lawyer from HR?” Hiroto loudly exclaimed once the door shut and probably the woman I’ve ever loved most is no longer here. I’m almost caught in a daze remembering how strong she just acted to save me. 

“Why am I not surprised you knew that?” Junta sighs, obviously not happy with this turn in events as I shake the sinful thoughts out of my head. God, I love her. 

Turning back to Seiichiro, who’s leisurely sifting through the files my fiancee gave him, I watch the scowl etched in his face cut deeper. He sighs, mutters something under his breath, and pulls what I’m sure is my marriage contract out of his top desk drawer. “You can marry anyone you please, it won’t impede the soundness of the company or pile a mountain of debt over you.” I can hear him crying internally at being bested as he tears the contract in two.

“Thank you, sir! I’m very grateful!” I bow lowly, too overjoyed to notice how ticked off most of the men in the room are. 

After that day, I’m very open with my relationship. Yamato and Ren warm to my fiancee very well, although it seems like a purely professional relationship. Yumi and Arisa, mainly Arisa, are more than happy to help me plan the wedding- seeing as they’ll be a big part in it- and we have a small destination wedding thanks to my inheritance money. I’m more than happy, I don’t know a word to describe it. Our careers are going well and neither of us want kids just yet, but in time. I’m just so happy I could marry the person I love being the real me.

~~~~~~

This turned out way cuter than I expected it to, but I am SO here for it lol. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I’d love to hear your thoughts!

[babygirlbenji]

Christmas With The Hollands

A/N This has been in my drafts since around September as I LOVE CHRISTMAS, it’s my favourite holiday of the year. I was going to wait until closer to The Big Day to post this, but I wanted to get some original content out there to make up for my abhorrent lack of original posts. Enjoy! Also - I cannot be the only one who thinks that Christmas with the Hollands would be the best time EVER?

Warnings: none!

Word count: 2.4k - more under the cut! (I’m so sorry this is so long)

You and Tom had been dating for just over a year, and you were now part of the Holland family. As such, you were top of the guest list at the exclusive Holland family Christmas lunch every Christmas Day.

This Christmas was no exception.

Once you had put the finishing touches on the magnificent chocolate roulade you had made, and Tom had given Tessa a lengthy walk so she wouldn’t be too energetic while you guys were enjoying your Christmas lunch, the three of you dashed out into the frigid suburban air and into the warmth of Tom’s Range Rover.

‘Have you got everyone’s presents?’ You checked. He nodded, laughing.

‘Yes, love, for the third time today, I have everyone’s presents.’

‘Just checking! We don’t want a repeat of Christmas 2017.’ You both winced at the memory; due to a calamitous miscommunication, both of you had forgotten to bring the presents for the entire family, and were unable to retrieve them from your apartment as the traffic was so busy.

‘Don’t worry, love, I have definitely got them. I just hope Tessa doesn’t eat them.’ You thumped his arm, rolling your eyes.

The car cruised along the M25 towards London, the traffic piling up rapidly. Tom took the exit for his parents’ house, and before you knew it, you were parked outside the semi-detached townhouse.

‘I’ll take Tess and the roulade, you can take the presents!’ You immediately hopped out and carried Tessa out of her crate in the boot of the car. Tom just chuckled and obliged, carrying the two gift bags full of Christmas goodies for the Holland family.

Walking with Tess up the short driveway, you knocked on the door.

‘Y/N! How lovely to see you, my darling, Merry Christmas!’ Nikki opened the door, a festive apron tied around her waist and partially covering a cosy Christmas jumper. The delicious smell of Christmas lunch immediately wafted over you, and the sound of Michael Bublé’s Christmas album flowed softly from the speakers in the living room. The Holland house was one of your favourite places, made even better by the people who lived in it.

‘Hi, Nikki! Merry Christmas!’ You exchanged hugs and kisses.

‘That pudding looks incredible! Come in, come in!’ Nikki took the roulade, leaving a hand free to allow you to take your shoes off, before you led Tessa inside. Dom, Harry, Sam and Paddy were in the kitchen. ‘Hey, Hollands, Merry Christmas!’ you cheered, going round and giving everyone hugs.

‘Where’s your boy, Y/N?’ Dom asked as you broke apart from your hug.

‘He’s probably putting the presents under the tree! Ah, there he is!’ As if on cue, Tom came hurrying in.

‘Hi, dad, hey, guys!’ You looked on as he hugged his family, a small smile on your face. Nikki busied herself with the preparation of the lunch.

‘Nikki, can I do anything to help?’ You offered, feeling guilty about sitting around and doing nothing.

‘Oh, you’re such a darling! If you could start peeling potatoes, that would be amazing! Harry, help Y/N peel potatoes, Sam and Paddy, peel the carrots and parsnips and Tom, you can sit there and look pretty.’ You all laughed; Tom was notoriously bad in the kitchen, and you mostly did the cooking. Harry joined you at the sink as you peeled potato after potato, taking part in the conversation and just taking in the Christmas atmosphere. Christmas at the Hollands was truly something special.

‘So, Y/N, any hint on what my present is?’ Harry asked cheekily. You poked him gently with the peeler.

‘No, you silly goose, that’ll ruin the surprise!’

‘What about mine, Y/N?’ Paddy protested from across the counter.

‘Okay, Pads, all I’m going to say is that you’re going to need a lot of time set aside these holidays to do it. I shall reveal no further information at this time!’ Tom smiled, loving the sight of you getting along so well with his family, the ones who meant the most to him along with you.

Nikki had completely fallen for you the first time she’d met you, as did Dom. Your nerves of meeting his parents quickly dissipated as soon as they welcomed you with open arms into their home, and Paddy absolutely adored having an unofficial big sister.

‘Hey, Tom, where’s Haz?’ Sam asked.

‘He’s with his family in Suffolk, mate, he has got other family other than us,’ Tom replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice; if there was anything Tom did better than acting, it was sarcasm. You giggled.

‘Alright, Nikki, that’s it for the potatoes! Anything else you want me to do? I lay a fine table, how about I lay the table?’ Nikki nodded enthusiastically, showing you where the Christmas crackers and festive napkins were kept. You busied yourself by laying the table in its full festive gear, missing Nikki whisper “keep her!” to Tom, and him reply to her “don’t worry, I’m planning on it”.

*

The family was at last sitting round the table, plates piled high with a delicious turkey, roast potatoes, carrots, parsnips, stuffing and all the trimmings of a traditional Christmas lunch.

‘Alright guys, before we tuck in to this delicious meal, I would like to make a toast!’ Tom stood up and raised his glass. ‘As you all know, I introduced you to my wonderful girlfriend Y/N earlier this year, and I would like to make a toast to her for making me the happiest I have ever been. This year has not been easy, with all the Marvel and Disney and Sony drama and then the movie and reshoots and everything. Yet, through all of that, Y/N has been right there by my side, never wavering with her wise words of wisdom and funny jokes and puns. Having her along for the press tour for Far From Home was the best decision of my life, and I am so grateful to have her in my life. I think we can all say that she brings joy to all of our lives.’

‘Hear, hear!’ Dom hollered.

‘Can you hurry up? I’m starving,’ Paddy whined.

‘Alright, pal, I’m done. To Y/N, and many more Christmases with her!’ Everyone raised their glasses in your direction, leaving you blushing beetroot red, before tucking in to their meals.

‘Thanks, babe, but you didn’t need to do that,’ you muttered in a low voice to Tom, who was sat next to you.

‘All of it is true. You are phenomenal.’ You leant in and kissed him gently.

*

Lunch was closely followed by a couple slices of your roulade, which went down a treat with everyone.

Everyone was extremely full, but Paddy (and Sam and Harry, although they didn’t want to admit it) were eager to open their presents, so you all adjourned to the living room, you and Tom on one sofa, Nikki and Dom on a chair each and Sam, Paddy and Harry on the other sofa.

As always, the presents were handed out, and once everyone had all their presents, you all dived in and opened your presents.

‘Oh, Nikki, this is wonderful!’

‘Wow, Paddy, this is great!’

‘Haha, Sam. Very funny!’

You looked down at your lap, all but one of your presents opened; you had received some very nice Chanel perfume from Nikki, a framed picture of you and Tom from Harry that he’d taken, a new book by your favourite author from Dom, a new PS4 game from Paddy (you were a big gamer, all thanks to Tom) and a pair of earrings from Sam (you had assumed that Elysia had helped him picked them out).

‘Go on, babe, open that one!’ Tom encouraged, keeping his voice low. ‘It’s from me.’ You looked at him, a look that said nothing but “no shit!” on your face.

It was a medium-sized rectangular box. You ripped the paper off, opened the box and your jaw dropped.

‘Oh, Tom!’ It was an incredibly expensive and fancy Michael Kors watch, the one you’d seen in Harrods a few weeks prior and immediately swooned over it, but persuaded yourself that you wouldn’t make any extravagant purchases in the weeks leading up to Christmas. ‘Oh, honey, you didn’t!’

‘Oh, but I did. I saw how much you liked it and knew it would be a perfect first Christmas present. Go on, try it on!’ You were acutely aware of the whole family’s attention on the two of you, but as you carefully prised the watch out of its case, it was as if you were the only people in the room. Tom helped you put it on, as the clasp was a bit fiddly, but once it was on, it twinkled slightly in the lights from the Christmas tree opposite you.

‘Oh, Tom, it’s perfect. Thank you so much. And thank you for all of your gifts, they’re wonderful!’ A chorus of “thank yous” and “you’re welcomes” ensued, and you saw Paddy lean in and whisper something in his mother’s ear. She smiled at him and gently pushed him towards you, your gift of an Avengers LEGO in his hands.

‘Hey, Y/N?’ It was the first time you’d seen the young boy, usually so confident and outgoing, this shy and quiet.

‘Yes, Padster?’ Again, Tom found himself gazing at you in adoration. He knew you were always good with kids, but it meant a lot to him that you were so fond of his youngest brother, who was admittedly your favourite Holland brother.

‘Do you think you’d be able to help me with this?’ Your lips curled into a fond smile.

‘That sounds like the perfect Boxing Day activity, little man! We can tackle it tomorrow, what do you say?’ He nodded enthusiastically, and hugged you tightly. ‘Aww, you’re the best, Paddy. Thank you for your gift, it’s just what I needed to spend the rest of the holidays doing!’

After everyone had finished opening their gifts, you and Tom helped Nikki and Dom tidy away all the wrapping paper.

‘Babe, I’m just going into the kitchen to text some of the guys and send them our Christmas wishes, okay?’ Tom murmured in your ear, one arm winding its way around your waist.

‘Sure, babe, say hi to Chris for me, and tell Seb and Anthony I miss them!’ He grinned, kissing your temple.

‘Will do, darling!’ He hurried out of the living room, phone in hand, leaving you to finish putting the last of the wrapping paper into a bin bag with Nikki.

‘It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him this happy and relaxed,’ she remarked. You smiled shyly.

‘He really needed this break. The whole debacle with Marvel and Sony had him incredibly stressed. His face when he got the news that he was back in the game made me cry.’

‘I bet! He wouldn’t have gotten through it if it weren’t for you, I daresay.’ Her comment made you stop and look at her. ‘Believe me, he said it himself. He said something like you keep him saner than anyone he knows. He has Harrison, of course, but having you, someone who isn’t in the industry, offer him a place of solace where he can take his mind off the pressures of being Spider-Man and the “next Robert Downey Jr”, as the internet has called him, is a real gift. We have so much to thank you for, Y/N, really. You’re so special.’ You didn’t quite know what to say, so you just stepped forward to hug her.

‘Thank you, Nikki. You have an incredibly special son, too. He is one of a kind.’ She started laughing.

‘Isn’t that the truth!’

A comfortable silence arose between you, but it was quickly interrupted by Paddy, who came rushing in, begging his mum to put a Christmas movie on. ‘Alright, guys, let’s watch a Christmas movie! Home Alone?’ You and Paddy cheered.

‘I’ll go see where Tom is, he loves Home Alone!’ You excused yourself and went into the kitchen, where you saw Tom on the phone to someone. You felt bad for listening in, but you were curious.

‘…Yeah, she’s fantastic, Rob, she really is. She helped me so much through all this manic stuff with Marvel and Sony … absolutely, the way things are going, she’s the one for me … alright, mate, I’ll let you go and enjoy the day, see you soon, bud … you too, bye!’ Your heart was practically singing.

‘So, you’re on first name terms with Downey, huh?’ You smirked as you strolled into the kitchen. Tom whirled around, surprised, then smiled when he saw it was you.

‘Yep, we go way back, me and him!’ You both laughed, and you wound your arms around his torso as you came close to him.

‘Thank you for bringing me today, I’ve had such a lovely time. Christmas was never really… fun back home, with my stepdad and stuff, so I really appreciate having you guys as my second family.’ He smiled, thinking how he ever got so lucky.

‘I think I speak for the entirety of my family when I say that you are always welcome here, and if things ever go south at home, my bed can always fit two.’ He winked.

‘Is that so?’ Your eyes met his, and as your lips met in a sweet kiss, you heard a camera click. Breaking apart, you saw Harry in the doorway, face bright red as his arms fell to his sides.

‘Sorry, guys, I just wanted to try out my new lens! As you were…’ Both you and Tom started laughing as he backed away sheepishly.

‘Hey, Harry!’ You called out.

‘Yeah?!’

‘Send me that pic?’ Tom laughed harder, resting his head on your shoulder.

‘Will do.’ You turned back to face Tom, who was gazing at you in complete adoration.

‘The family are watching Home Alone in the living room, let’s go watch!’ You tried to walk away, but Tom grabbed you and pulled you close.

‘I just want us to be alone for just a few minutes more…’ His arms pulled you into his chest, and you breathed in his warm, earthy scent. ‘I love you, Y/N. You make me so happy.’ Your heart swelled.

‘And I love you too, Tommy. Come on, let’s go watch the movie.’ You took his hand and led him into the living room, where you sat on his lap as you and the rest of the family watched the movie in comfortable silence.

By the time Kevin was reunited with his family, your extended family was all asleep, sleeping away another magical Christmas Day.

[summersubin]

tutoring sessions

- yeonjun x taehyun

- 2.5k

- yeonjun doesn’t like that his new tutor is younger than him but he really can’t fail this class. besides, the sophomore is really pretty. he can’t stay mad at him for long. (cr: taejunaus on twitter for the prompt!!)

- a/n: i wrote this a while ago but didn’t get around to posting it here~ this is on my ao3 summersubin and i also posted it on my twitter hyukasnose!! please check out taejunaus on twitter, their aus are really good and i enjoy reading them a lot <3

~

TUTORING SESSIONS, read the pink flyer pinned to the announcement board in the school hallway. it fluttered with the breeze of students passing by in a hurry on the way to their next class. yeonjun, however, stood perfectly still, his school books in his arms, and stared at the innocent flyer with a conflicted expression on his face. his books lay heavy in his arms.

he never wanted to admit it to himself, but he needed a tutor. it wasn’t that he didn’t try hard, but the work in his classes just seemed to pile up so quickly on top of him that he was becoming worried he would never escape from underneath it. he felt the pressure of a million assignments weighing on his chest, and with all of his work to do, he was falling behind with learning the new material in his courses.

so, begrudgingly and with narrowed eyes, yeonjun reached out his hand, shuffling his school books into the crook of his other arm, and ripped one of the slips of paper with a phone number scrawled on it from the flyer. he slipped it in his pocket, and then decided to make his escape, hoping nobody had witnessed him. he turned, ducked his head, and walked quickly along with the other students, easily blending in with the crowd.

`

later, when school was over for the day, yeonjun pulled out his phone and the tiny slip of paper came with it. he almost dropped it by accident, its pink color catching his eye. he was on the bus now, and as he was sitting in his seat he placed his phone on one leg and the phone number on the other. he hesitated for a few moments, feeling like an idiot as the bus jostled him around in his seat, going over bumps in the road. finally, he rolled his eyes and picked up his phone in his hands, quickly typing up a text to the number listed from the flyer and sending it before he could talk himself out of it. he would call, but he was feeling far too self conscious already, and he didn’t need a whole bus of people listening in on his conversation.

yeonjun repeatedly glanced at his phone anxiously, and found a reply from the owner of the flyer coming through in a matter of seconds. so taehyun is his name, yeonjun thought after his new tutor introduced himself. he sounds nice enough. and he was nice, speaking to yeonjun in possibly a more formal tone than he expected, but he was fine with that, as long as it wasn’t overbearing when they were finally face to face.

they agreed to meet later that afternoon in a local cafe. bring some money if you want to. i always find coffee keeps me motivated to work, taehyun had said. the wifi is a bonus, too. yeonjun laughed at that. taehyun told him to bring his own supplies, which yeonjun was already pretty much expecting. it wasn’t like the flyer had specified exactly what kind of tutoring taehyun was offering, so he just assumed taehyun would be on board for whatever. it was funny, yeonjun thought, that he couldn’t seem to remember anybody by the name of taehyun in his class.

`

when yeonjun walked in the front door of the cafe, he was greeted by a warm gust of air that smelled of coffee and bread. he carried his schoolbooks against his chest, the weight feeling familiar in his arms. taehyun said he would be in one of the booths, so yeonjun didn’t worry too much about not being able to find him. he figured he would know him when he saw him. for a school night, the place seemed to be unusually busy. a low hum of voices filled the air and bounced off the well decorated walls, a gentle yellow glow from the lighting casting itself on the customers.

biology, he desperately needed help in biology. he could never seem to cram all the vocabulary into his brain and keep it there. it liked to ooze out like goo, and yeonjun wished he could pack it all together in there and secure it with duct tape. math, too. the formulas always ended up confusing him, and the second he thought he got it completely, he would move on to solve the next problem and find himself completely and utterly lost. he mulled over these things in his mind as he walked through the cafe, knowing he would probably have to explain them to taehyun if he wanted any help.

yeonjun was walking past the booths that sat just beside a giant wall of glass, passing each one booth by booth and wondering if he had arrived too early for their meet up. and then he stopped in his tracks. in front of him was a boy sitting in a booth only a few feet away from him. he was hunched over in his seat as he scrawled something into a little notebook on the table in front of him. the seat opposite of him was empty, yeonjun noted when he glanced at it. this is… taehyun? yeonjun thought, feet freezing into the ground.

his hair was caramel brown, not quite long enough to fall over his eyes but enough that it just brushed his eyebrows. the warm lighting complemented his honey tanned skin, and he held his pen between his fingers delicately as he wrote. he was in a cream colored shirt, and subtly something in the back of yeonjun’s mind flickered with the thought of how good it looked on him, how well he seemed to blend into the warm atmosphere of the cafe. the thing was, though, that by the looks of taehyun, he couldn’t have been any older than yeonjun. in fact, he had a younger look to him. upon thinking this, yeonjun had the realization that the reason why he couldn’t place taehyun in his mind earlier was because he wasn’t from his class. he was almost certainly a year younger, if not two, and this thought alone made yeonjun consider turning back and going home, pretending as if he had never arrived. being tutored by a sophomore… yeonjun thought, and nearly winced at the idea. he had gotten himself this far, but he didn’t know if he would be able to take another blow to his pride like that. however, just as yeonjun was raising his foot from the ground to turn around, the head of caramel hair in front of him suddenly raised up, and he was caught in the stare of big, round, captivating brown eyes.

taehyun gave him a once-over, taking in the sight of yeonjun’s schoolbooks and setting his pen down gently. he sat himself up in his seat, and then settled himself, closing his notebook shut.

“you’re here for the tutoring, right?” he asked, and yeonjun felt something strange twinge inside of him at the sound of his voice. he nodded meekly, feeling awkward and out of place. taehyun paused for a moment, and then eyed the seat across from him in a sort of wordless gesture, turning his gaze back to yeonjun.

yeonjun walked over timidly, regretting for a moment not leaving when he had the chance. as he was putting his books down on the table, he cast a few side glances at taehyun’s face.

“you’re not in my class, are you?” he asked hesitantly, adding, “what year are you… sophomore?” he looked at his books feeling a bit pathetic for a moment, hoping that he was only mistaken. he didn’t want to come to a sophomore for help on material he hadn’t even taken a class on yet.

“is that a problem?” taehyun interjected, and yeonjun lifted his head at the hint of aggression laced in his voice. he stared for just a moment, taehyun’s wide brown eyes trapping him under their glare, and suddenly he was embarrassed.

“no, no, it’s not,” yeonjun was mumbling without thinking, quickly sitting down in the seat of the booth and reaching a hand behind his head to scratch awkwardly at his neck. “i just didn’t recognize you, that’s all…” he trailed off. it wasn’t a lie of course, but it certainly wasn’t all either. he could feel a hint of warmth beginning to blossom on his cheeks and wished it would cut it out already.

“so, what do you need help with?” taehyun asked, and yeonjun subtly shifted uncomfortably in his seat under the boy’s scrutinizing gaze. he couldn’t help but feel the itch on his skin from coming to someone younger for help, but as his mind drifted back to the mounds of homework waiting to be completed by him, he clenched his teeth and knew he would just have to bear it. passing his classes was his only option, and if taehyun was the thing that would help push him to that point, then so be it. besides, spending the afternoon with this kid…..it probably…. yeonjun glanced up quickly between his thoughts and met taehyun’s patient eyes. probably wouldn’t be that bad.

he blinked away his thoughts, looking down and spreading his books across the table between them. “biology,” he blurted out. “and my math class…” and then taehyun was nodding, flipping open his little notebook and reaching for his pen. he started writing some things down.

“what are you writing?” yeonjun asked, palms flat against the solid cover of his biology textbook.

“just some notes. it will make things easier to keep track of.” taehyun muttered absentmindedly, not halting his movements. yeonjun watched him, eyes glued to the way his hand produced small neat handwriting onto the paper.

“i can’t remember anything in biology,” he continued, still observing taehyun as he skipped a line and began writing more. “it’s like it makes sense, but it never stays in my head.”

taehyun nodded shallowly, and yeonjun got this weird feeling like he was talking to his teacher. this kid was way too serious and precise.

“and your math class?” taehyun asked suddenly, lifting his head from his notebook. yeonjun paused. maybe it was the lighting or something, or the cozy atmosphere of the cafe, or maybe just his nerves messing with his perception, but something about taehyun’s face looking up at him like that made his stomach flutter. “um,” yeonjun uttered, wiping his palms against his pant legs. “yeah, basically the same thing. i always understand it in class but when i try to do it on my own…” he shook his head.

taehyun nodded again, quickly jotting it down. “okay,” he said, dropping his pen. “i’ll see if i can help.” and then he did something that yeonjun wasn’t at all ready for. he smiled softly, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners. oh, he’s cute, was all yeonjun could think, and he breathed out a laugh, returning the smile but looking down as he did so. what is wrong with you? he thought to himself.

taehyun reached over and picked up his biology textbook by the corner, half dragging it across the surface of the table until it was in front of him. he flipped it open, skimming the table of contents briefly before looking back at yeonjun. “what unit are you on?” he asked, and yeonjun’s brain was lagging. the thoughts coming in one after the other now, flitting through his mind about how pretty his tutor looked sitting there, and how embarrassed he felt, and how awkward he was acting.

“unit 6, i think,” he murmured, and thought he heard taehyun laugh the tiniest bit at his uncertainty as he found the page number and flipped to it in the book.

`

they sat there for the next few hours, yeonjun taking taehyun’s sincere advice on how he could study better but often finding himself distracted by the calm timber of his voice. taehyun had an excellent way of explaining things, and the more time he spent listening to him, the more yeonjun wondered how he could possibly be a sophomore. he watched the way taehyun’s expression grew focused when he was explaining more difficult concepts, like when they went over his math formulas together. he cursed his heart for the way it skipped ever so slightly every time he got an answer right, every time taehyun applauded him for doing it correctly on his own. he just knew there was a warm redness in his cheeks, for how long it lasted he had no idea, but he felt so strange being tutored by someone like taehyun.

by the time they were done, taehyun had a good few pages in his little notebook about things they had accomplished, things they needed to work on still, and how yeonjun should proceed with his classes. yeonjun had a good amount of notes as well, filling the pages of his notebooks with as many practice problems from taehyun as possible, knowing he would need them later.

“we can meet… next week if you want? here again?” taehyun asked, and yeonjun found himself once again pulled into his round brown eyes, thinking for a moment that he saw a flicker of hope in them. “yeah,” he responded, biting at his lip. “sounds good.” taehyun’s gaze flickered downward for a split second, and then back up again. he nodded again, and began to gather his things together. then he paused, and suddenly groaned, bringing a hand up to his forehead in frustration.

“we never got any coffee,” he said in a disappointed tone. “it completely slipped my mind.” he shook his head slowly.

yeonjun laughed, a bright and airy sound, and couldn’t help the smile on his face from forming at how genuinely upset taehyun seemed to be. “me too,” he snickered, and watched as taehyun looked up at him and dropped his hand. he began to smile too, a bashful look gracing his features at his own reaction.

“um, do you want me to buy you one? we can still order…” yeonjun blurted out before he could think. “i can stay for a little longer…”

taehyun’s eyes widened just barely, his mouth opening to speak and then closing again. “oh,” he said, gaze dropping down and raising back up. “okay,” he said quietly.

yeonjun smiled wide in response, laughing awkwardly. he asked for taehyun’s order, and taehyun gave it to him, still looking a bit taken aback. as yeonjun walked away to order their drinks, he could feel taehyun’s curious gaze on his back. the smile on his face wouldn’t seem to fade, but little did he know how much trouble he was in now. after all, he had a lot of studying to do, but when he would finally get around to it during the days to come he would find himself unable to focus or concentrate. his mind would be way too preoccupied thinking about his tutor that was annoyingly younger than him, and how pretty he looked under the warm lights of the cafe that afternoon.

[transephiroth]

an important post: abuse from friends, friend abuse. please read and reblog.

TW: abuse ment, bpd ment, ed ment, suicide ment, ptsd, trauma, death ment. gaslighting ment.

i don’t know what exactly what has compelled me to make this post at nearly 1:00 am on a school night just like every other, but i think the importance of advocacy of preventing, spotting, and stopping abusive friendships is to talk about them with the same respect as any other form of abuse.

i’ll give you a small overview of my personal experience with abusive friendships: when i was 16, my father committed suicide. i was not aware he was my biological father at they time and actually found out he was not my half brother, but my biological father. my father, who’s name i will not mention. i won’t even use fake names they’re hard to keep track of. i found out my mother, an abusive drug addict, slept with her husband, my apparent grandfather’s, adult son from a previous marriage consensually. one way or another, my father was forbidden to be involved in my life, and my grandfather raised me as his own. (in case you’re going to ask about inc*st, my father and mother have no relation, she is not his mother.)

the shock of learning this and grieving his death from the few negative interactions he and his mental health had on my family when i was a baby, was intense. i had no friends at school and felt incredibly lost and vulnerable. when i was in this place i met my best friend. we bonded over a shared hatred of my ex boyfriend, who was an abuser, who was dating her ex best friend.

this should have been a red flag, but i ignored it.

i took the first friend i could find after my ex took away all my friends in an effort to isolate me after my assault. this was probably the worst part of my life, and one of my first real suicide attempts was only days before my father died. the first friend i found, the first soul i recognized i clung to.

when me and my friend, who we will call P, were inseparable. but there was a very clear and distinct difference between us. P was a star in the band at school, she had great grades, tons of friends and was quite conventionally attractive. she was involved in a lot of extracurriculars and overall had a very nice demeanor.

this should have been a red flag. as harsh as it might sound, idealizing anyone is unhealthy. if someone appears to you as perfect, it’s not paranoid of you to wonder if it’s hiding something. it’s hard to tell when someone is being genuine, especially for myself with autism. nice words and a smile can pretty much fool anyone.

i, on the other hand of P, dropped out of band and just about every other activity after my assault, and was in and out of intense therapy and psych visits throughout all of high school. i never could go a school year without a visit. to this day i have gone a whole year however :)

I was an autistic shut in who quite honestly, cried a lot, smelled bad, was clearly poor, spoke funny and came to school drunk. we were not the same.

i don’t want to go over every painstaking detail, so i’ll try to summarize as best i can the first two years of our three year relationship.

P was diagnosed with BPD about a month into our friendship. she told me i was her FP/favorite person, and showed me videos to learn about BPD. i remember watching hours and hours of information about BPD to accommodate her the best i could. what i didn’t realize however, was that she was lying. she didn’t have BPD, or at least couldn’t be diagnosed because we were 16.

red flag. i knew this was a lie because i had been in therapy for years. it took me a long time to peace it together but i accepted it and beget told her, until this moment, that i knew.

i fucking knew.

months of friendship included constant easy to see through lies, fabrications, pathological rants, and pretty much changing her “back story” every day. it was draining not to mention it, but the few times i did, she got physical. i have scars on my right forearm from her nails, which were long and broke skin. she would tell me she would pay me back for things and never show. she would make fun of things i told her in secret to our friends, my trauma. my dad.

“dark humor”

over time, she convinced me to drop every single friend i had except for her. she had gotten me literally completely vulnerable and isolated.

when covid hit, my mom, of course, kicked me out. i moved in with P and her family. my time there over quarantine was very monotonous, but i’ll never forget that for basically 8-9 months, she never let me out of her sight. i felt like i had to just do whatever she wanted because her mother let me live there for free.

p knew i wanted to move away from my mother and the chaos of my home life for years.

right before quarantine, P got her first boyfriend. she had never had a boyfriend and had been to scared to get one. i was really happy for her, i encouraged her to ask him out while she was at a weekend school event.

P then began to manipulate not only me, but him. to this day i don’t know what’s become of either of them, but i really couldn’t care less anymore. when trauma heals, you get a sense of apathy.

P would frequently belittle me, mock me, kick, trip and slap me, force me to pay for things for her and her boyfriend on the spot, and steal from my purse.

eventually living with p, third wheeling with her less than charming boyfriend, who i honestly just didn’t mind. we weren’t friends, but i was respectful to him and treated him the same way i would treat a friend from school or something.

p has a family i won’t bring up because it involves minors, but her mother has a psychotic disorder and refuses to be medicated, so the house is full of ripped door hinges, holes in walls, smashed items and more. it’s really unsafe there, and during my time there i found i really began to internalize as a person. i developed an eating disorder and my ptsd and autism felt much more out of control.

i had been diagnosed with autism for nearly two years at that point, and living in that household made me realize just how damaging meltdown after meltdown without anyone understanding can damage your psyche long term.

i wanted to leave. i had saved my money from my jobs and got an apartment. p insisted on coming, saying she didn’t want to live with her mom anymore. i didn’t want her to come, but i agreed. she got a co-sign. i knew it was a bad idea because i heard what they said about best friends living together. i just can’t believe it really happened.

we talked about growing old together, raising our kids together. i was going to name my first daughter after her. we were going to be neighbors. her husband and my wife would be best friends just like us, but that’s not what happened.

we lived together from August 2020-November 2020

to give a quick summary of the inevitable end of this relationship, P and I had two kittens together. i asked her if she could put them away for inspection so they didn’t run out the door while i drove our third roommate, a whole other mountain of a story, to work.

she didn’t do it, instead slacked off to go to her boyfriends house. so i came back and had to put the cats away at record speed and our other roommate was late to work.

even if this was somewhat small, it was the breaking point for me. i grabbed my phone and texted her, DEMANDING she explain why she couldn’t do this one thing for me. i have never been that angry in my life. we had a phone call where i just lost it and unleashed all my anger and all my hurt about everything she had done. i was sobbing and barely making sense but i couldn’t just keep letting my life carry on this way.

i wish i remembered how the phone call ended, but all i remember was telling her “if the cats run and we can’t find them, then we are done being roommates.”

the next morning i woke up and she had blocked me on everything. i drove to the apartment and saw that overnight, according to block times at like, 3am, she had taken all our shared furniture, all my birthday gifts from not two weeks prior, all the gifts i bought her, most of my clothes, one of the apartment keys, my high school diploma, the paperwork for the cats, and not just our two shared kittens, but my third roommates cat as well.

cue search party with my partner and his friends and my other roommate for P and the cats. i found her at her house with her mom and boyfriend. i walked out and she was on the phone with my grandfather, telling him i was threatening suicide. i ask her where the cats are, she says they are at a friends house.

if we flashback in the story, we literally only had each other, so i knew it was a lie.

i managed to argue through to negotiate at least my other roommates cat, but only after P’s mom blocked us in the driveway and called the police saying we threatened her daughter

(reminder people in this group were black and asian ☺️ so she just calls the cops fall 2020)

luckily the cops saw the proof she blocked me so i couldn’t have threatened her, and let us leave.

that’s the end of the friendship. i could bore anyone who has read this far further by explaining the nightmare realm that is the legal troubles with the apartment, but the internet doesn’t need to know everything does it?

as the winter has gone on i’ve had months to basically remake myself as a person. i had to firstly face the damage P had done.

but before i get into that, anyone who is still reading first, ily, but also, if you’ve had ANY relationship that sounds similar to this, THAT IS ABUSE.

Plain and simple. It is abusive. Physically, emotionally, mentally, verbally. nobody deserves that. not P. not you. not me.

friendships can be all someone has. not everyone is born into good families with loving siblings and great parents and tons of cousins who live .3 milliseconds away. families are divided. families, like mine, are divorced. families are broken and families sometimes aren’t even families. humans need relationships, and an idealistic person who we think maybe could save us and fix the world, won’t.

you can be taken advantage of by the person you trust the most just as easily as a stranger.

it’s not wrong to face the abuse they put you through, know it was wrong, and feel valid that it is was wrong.

what i went through with P was horrible. the detachment of my only friend hurt. but i bounced back. i’m still undoing some of the damage, but i have great friends and a wonderful partner. i have two rescue cats who mean the world to me.

life gets better after abuse, but the bad days and the pain aren’t invalid because of this. i have trauma from what P put me through. abandonment like that is traumatic. but it’s not the end. feel what you need to feel to feel better.

if anyone read this far and wants to vent their own experiences, or share more advice on preventing these relationships feel free. it’s almost 1:30 now, i should go to bed.

it feels good to get that off my chest.

[babygirlgalitzine]

for @weloveweird, based on this iconic post i cried over

i’m counting on high hopes to get me over you (ao3)

one

They sat in the Vic, closed off from everyone else. Ben had initiated it, sending a text to Callum asking him to join him for a few. It had been a while since it was just the two of them, and Callum jumped at the chance, even though in his heart of hearts he knows he should have probably been a little bit reluctant, knowing that every time he had been around Ben recently he had walked away from his best friend a little bit more heartbroken than he was when he started.

“So, I suppose what I’m asking you is,” Ben paused, watching Callum’s face carefully. “will you be my best man?”

Here’s where it at started. Ben and Callum had been the best of friends for the longest of times. They were inseparable. Ben had helped Callum through so much, and Callum had helped Ben through the bad times in his life. For most people who knew them, it seemed as though it was destiny that one day, they would realise their feelings for each other and they would become a couple. For people who didn’t know them that well, or just saw them out and about, they probably thought that they were already a couple. That was until a year and a half ago, when Ben had admitted to Callum that he’d been going on dates with this man he met on a dating app, and Ben was falling for him. That’s when Callum first met Joe, and was suddenly overcome with a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach and felt as though someone was ripping his heart away from him every time Ben and Joe so much as looked at each other. These feelings were heightened tenfold when Ben had texted Callum a picture of his left hand whilst on holiday, the focal point of the picture a glistening silver band on his ring finger. Then it all clicked. Callum Highway was head over heels in love with his best friend. His engaged best friend. Who just so happens to be Ben Mitchell.

“I’d be honoured, mate!” Callum smiled, wrapping Ben up in a hug. His heart ached, wishing it didn’t have to be like this.

A pang of guilt knotted through Callum as Ben smiled at him, talking through all the ideas he’d had for his stag do. The only small mercy to come from this was the fact Ben and Joe were set on having individual stags, so Callum wouldn’t have to be around Joe any longer than necessary.

“I was thinking The Albert.” Ben said. “It’s mums place, we can get it cheap.”

Callum smiled and nodded. “Whatever you want, Ben, I’ll make it happen.”

Ben pressed his hand to Callum’s shoulder, and Callum tried desperately not to smile at the touch, warmth bubbling up inside of him, his heart exploding with love. “I knew you were the perfect man for the job.” He admitted, finishing his pint. “Another?”

“Go on then.” Callum smiled, draining his glass empty.

two

Neon lights circled above them, creating patterns on the walls, shining onto people’s faces. Callum stood back with a cocktail in his hand, watching his creation. It was Ben’s stag do, and after Callum was promoted from best friend to best man, it became his life mission to send Ben down the aisle in style. That, and he wanted to prove to Ben that Callum was the one who knew him most. Which is why everyone was dressed up as pop icons, a theme that Callum thought was absolutely hilarious when he initially thought of the idea, drunk at three in the morning, and was equally just as hilarious now, watching as men waltzed around the club with wigs and dresses on. The music that blasted over the speakers was the usual anthems for the Prince Albert, but also some of Ben’s favourite songs, ones attached to memories that he’d spent hours talking to Callum about, years ago.

Jay stood to the side of Callum, watching as everything unfolded. Both of them could see Ben dancing away to ABBA with Lola, swinging each other about, drunk and merry. Callum smiled, and Jay caught that look. He had seen it many a time, but had ultimately been too scared to bring it up, not wanting to push Ben and Callum away from each other.

“To be honest, mate.” Jay spoke, tilting his body into Callum’s, making sure he was heard. “I always reckoned you’d be the one stupid enough to settle down with him.” He joked.

Callum smiled, acknowledging Jay, and then looked down at the drink in his hand, finding it suddenly interesting. The smile suddenly dropped from his face, and the horrible feeling of guilt and heartbreak spread through him like wildfire.

Jay recognised the look, and rested his hand on Callum’s shoulder. “I’m sorry mate.” He confessed. “It must be really hard for you, seeing Ben like this.” It was funny, really. How Jay could know, but Ben could be completely oblivious to Callum’s feelings, as if he didn’t really ever know him at all. Callum shrugged his shoulders and sadly looked at Jay. “Well I can’t do much about it now, can I?”

He watched as Ben danced and laughed and sang, feeling on top on the world on his night. He caught Callum’s eye, and shouted something over to Lola before walking over to Callum, stumbling on every other step he took. He soon caught up to him and he drunkenly latched his arms around Callum’s shoulders, swinging on him slightly. “Thank you for this, Cal, it’s the best!” he slurred, before looking at Jay. “Aren’t I lucky?” he asked.

“The luckiest.” Jay smiled, taking a sip of his drink before nodding his head down to Callum’s hands which were resting on Ben’s waist, fingers rubbing in circles, almost cradling him.

three

The wedding day came around quicker than anyone could’ve expected. The sun beamed outside, a rare warm spring day. The whole square was decorated with banners and bunting, everyone being up since the crack of dawn to make it look perfect.

Ben had stayed at Callum’s the night before, his suit hung up on the wardrobe as he slept. It was an hour and a half before the wedding, and true to his nature, Ben was running late. Music played from the television, old songs he remembered from his childhood, having heard Kathy play them on repeat. He smiled to himself, watching in the mirror as he attempted to put his tie on, his fingers shaking with nerves.

“Struggling?” Callum asked, walking over to Ben, wearing a similar suit.

“Just a bit.” Ben laughed, untying the poorly executed knot in his tie, letting it rest against his chest.

“Come here.” Callum whispered, picking the tie up and starting the knot again, wrapping it around twice before tucking it under, pulling at it until the knot appeared in the perfect position. “What would you do without me, eh?”

And it was like the stars and moon aligned and everything just seemed right in the world. Callum was there, with Ben, helping him yet again, and Ben was overcome with emotions, the feelings he had spent years suppressing suddenly bubbling up to the surface once again. Without thinking, he leaned forward and soon his lips were pressed to Callum’s, who was unable to move with the shock of what was happening. “Please.” Ben pleaded, his lips still on Callum’s, and that was all it took to bring Callum out of a state of complete and utter shock, pulling onto the tie that was still in his hands, dragging Ben closer and closer to him until they were moving backwards, Ben’s hands coming underneath Callum’s suit blazer and eventually pushing him down on the bed, lips still interlocked, neither of them willing enough to come up for air.

And if Ben called off the wedding an hour later, in the arms of Callum, nobody really needed to know the ins and out of its – just that he was happy, and in love, and with the man he proudly called his best friend.