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twodimecastle · 3 years ago

Text

fifty bucks & six months.

spencer reid x gender neutral reader new relationship, secret keeping nonsense, 4.5k words, ao3 a/n; turns out i love writing texting fic but tumblr destroys the formatting rip

zero months.

You smile conspiratorially, extending a pinkie towards Spencer and he gives you a skeptical look.

“You know the odds of being found out immediately are-” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Astronomical, I know. I know. But don’t you think it’ll be fun to see how long we can push it?” you wheedle, not caring that your voice sounds more like begging than is strictly dignified because seeing the way Spencer’s nose crinkles in amusement at your heavy handed persuasion is too adorable to pass up. You scoot closer on the couch, tapping the end of his nose with your pinkie finger, letting him catch your hand between his as you continue “I think we’ve got a good shot at hiding it for a little while. It would be like a game.”

Spencer draws your captive hand to his lips, brushing them across your knuckles and watching fondly as you forge ahead in your campaign to persuade him, enjoying the show and the attention too much to tell you he’s already on board. Your eyes are shining with the prospect of the caper, and you’ve made no move to take your hand back from him, and Spencer’s pretty sure he’d be more than happy to sit with you in this moment forever. “I mean-” you go on, gesturing animatedly with your free hand, “you’re like-a really good liar when you want to be. And everyone else always forgets how good you are at it.”

He snorts at that and the sound makes you light up, eyes tracking the arch of his brows, the warmth in his soft brown eyes, memorising the way he looks like this; utterly unbothered, completely at ease. It might be your favourite version of him, but that race has always been a tight one with no clear winner in sight. You have lots of favourite versions of Spencer. Twisting your hand in his, you tangle your fingers together, savouring the way you feel his thumb glide delicately along your skin and the unhidden joy in his face at the simple show of affection.

Time to play your trump card.

“$50 says we can hide it from the whole group for at least six months. If everyone figures it out before then, you win. But if not everyone has worked it out by then, I win.”

The mischievous shine in your eyes is irresistible, and Spencer smiles, disentangling one of his hands from yours to extend his own pinky finger.

“You’re on.”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before you’re colliding with him, pressing your lips to his.

two months.

“So, how long has this whole thing been going on?” Derek’s question catches Spencer off guard, and, based on the way he can see you freeze in his peripheral vision, takes you by surprise as well. Sliding into the driver's seat of the SUV, Derek continues “I hope you didn’t think you were gonna be able to keep me in the dark for long, pretty boy. You should know better than that.”

Following mechanically after him, Spencer takes the passenger seat, trying to frame his next statement as carefully as possible as he hears your door close and the car start. “We were-going to tell you guys-” he begins uncomfortably, glancing back to you for support, but you look just as on edge as he feels. “We were just gonna-keep it to ourselves for a while-before telling Hotch and everything-” he tries again, the mounting tension levering his shoulders higher and higher with every passing moment, but then Derek just laughs, shaking his head.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, kid. For both of you.” He spares a look at you in the back seat through the rear view mirror, and you can feel the tension in your jaw relax, the furrows in your brow straightening out at the note of approval in Derek’s voice. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out,” he says, fondly, and you laugh.

“I bet Spence we could keep it from you guys at least six months,” you explain, reaching forwards through the centre console to link your pinky with Spencer’s, and the touch of your hand releases the last of the tension he had been harbouring as he covers your hand with the other one of his own. He knows Derek clocks the motion, filing it away in his mind somewhere, but he doesn’t care about the scrutiny so much right now. Not when your hand is so warm and comfortable in his.

Derek reaches for the dial on the radio and flicks through the channel, thinking about something, and as you watch, a slow mischievous smirk spreads across his face a moment later before he glances first at Spencer and then at you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he says to you, and Spencer can feel a familiar grin tugging at his own lips as he watches a plan take shape in his friend’s eyes. “I’m happy to sit on this information for a while for a cut of the winnings from whichever one of you comes out on top.” He snorts good naturedly as he continues “I have my own bet to win with Prentiss, so if you two help me win that one, I’ll cut you in too.”

“A quid pro quo of sorts,” Spencer says slowly, and he feels your fingers tighten around his, as you snort softly, and he knows instinctually you’re grinning the same way you always do when you’re winning a game. “I think we can do that.”

Derek grins, turning the music up as he nods, eyes on the road. “Then you two love birds have got yourselves a deal.”

two months and two weeks.

PG: youre not as slick as you think you are ;)

YN: ???

PG: ;))))))))) you should invest in some concealer for your work bag sweetness or tell the good doctor to pay more attention to whats visible in your work clothes

YN: oh my fucking god wait how do you even know thats how that happened

PG: im all knowing and all seeing im like the omnipotent goddess of the fbi

YN: derek blabbed

PG: he sang like a canary but also im an omnipotent goddess im also totally clued in on the whole bet situation with em so for the low low price of every single juicy detail about how this adorableness went down you can buy my silence :)

YN: im getting derek decaf coffee on all coffee runs from now on >:( traitors dont get caffeine

PG: darling sweet angel i need deets all of them like immediately

YN: >:( fine ok so. after that case down in georgia a few months ago? the weird one? with the creepy mother son thing?

PG: omg yuck pls dont remind me im here for the CUTENESS not the MURDER

YN: sorryyyyyyy anyway so spence was like being super weird about it all on the plane and whatever but he was doing that super annoying thing where he ignores it and says hes fine so everyone leaves him alone

PG: YEAH why does everyone here do that ALL THE TIME its SO annoyingggg

YN: ikr its insufferable and like super not subtle ANYWAY. spence was being weird and whatever and i just. refused to let him sulk on his own or whatever like i could tell there was something bothering him and so after work i insisted that we were gonna get like shitty diner food or whatever and watch a movie and he knows better than to say no to me

PG: smart boy

YN: so we got fries and milkshakes and then went back to his place to watch a movie and he was still like weird and silent and like brooding yknow? but whatever just figured hed talk about it when he was ready so i put on a movie and offered to make popcorn and then he was just staring at me and he looked so SAD and TIRED and i thought id done something wrong like the poor guy looked like he was gonna cry and i was panicking over fucking popcorn and then he says ‘why are you always so nice to me?’

PG: oh my god hes like if a sad victorian orphan was actually a triplicate phd holder

YN: i was SO thrown off i was like spencer. spencer were best friends. ive been forcing you to hang out with me for years now why do you THINK im being nice to you its bc i care about you asshole and then. like after another million years after letting me sweat it out over whether hes about to cry for like fucking years the asshole grabs my hand and says. i shit you not. ‘you know im in love with you, right?’ !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PG: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YN: anyway hes my boyfriend now :’) dont tell anyone tho gotta win the bet

four months.

Lingering by the elevator, you glance around at the uncharacteristically silent office building, waiting for Spencer to leave the bullpen. The sound of his footfalls drawing nearer makes you smile and you mentally applaud yourself for suggesting the two of you remained behind after disembarking from the plane, taking advantage of the manufactured privacy to take the same car home, back to his apartment.

When he sees you waiting for him, he can’t help the soft fond smile that tugs at his face, as he reaches for your hand, sliding his fingers into yours with a gentle squeeze, the quiet of the building allowing him to indulge in the show of affection. You return the squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder with a yawn and as he presses a fond kiss to your temple he’s rewarded by a sleepy hum of approval from you that sends a rush of quiet joy shooting through him.

“At least we won’t be sleeping in hotel beds again tonight,” you say, voice weary, and Spencer nods as he shuffles you into the elevator. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to move and in the moment of absolute privacy, you steal a kiss, tilting your chin up to catch his lips with yours, revelling in the soft huff of surprise he lets out, even as he smiles against your mouth. Even after months, the simple act of kissing Spencer still feels new and thrilling somehow, like you can’t quite believe it’s something you’re allowed to do.

His nose brushes yours and he breathes “unless something big comes up, we get a sleep in tomorrow too,” and the way you beam at him sends his heart racing in his chest, unable to look away from the fondness shining in your eyes.

As the two of you exit the elevator and make your way through the Bureau car park, you tuck yourself against his side, wedging yourself under his arm with a happy sigh, eager to get yourself horizontal and asleep as fast as possible. Spencer brushes his lips against your temple again as the two of you close in on his car, almost free and clear of the office when a voice behind the two of you brings you up short.

“Reid?”

Spencer is reacting before his mind catches up, turning on his heel towards the sound of Hotch’s voice echoing through the parking lot, conscious of the incriminating way you’re still tucked against his side, even as his brain is rifling frantically through any possible excuses for the current circumstances.

“Hotch-” you step away from Spencer, cheeks flaming, not wanting to chance a look at him. “I-we-thought everyone else had gone home,” you trail off lamely, trying your hardest not to balk under Hotch’s ominously impassive scrutiny. A second passes, then another, and the short silence feels like months, or years even as the three of you stand locked in a stalemate.

“I take it the two of you would prefer to keep this under wraps?” He asks, finally, and it registers with Spencer, somewhat belatedly, that Hotch’s tone isn’t admonishing. It isn’t enough to dissipate the tension coiling in Spencer’s muscles just yet, but he spares a glance at you as he nods, and a moment later, Hotch gives the two of you a curt nod of his own. “I’ll tell you what,” he says, a shade of irony colouring his voice. “If you two fill out the paperwork for in-team relationships for me, I’ll keep it to myself. I understand privacy is hard to come by in our office.”

The words take a while to fully sink in, and you’re conscious that you’re standing there blinking and gaping at your boss like a bemused fish for a good few seconds before you’ve composed yourself enough to say “absolutely, sir. Of course. Thank you.”

Hotch nods again, heading towards his own car, and as he passes the two of you, a brief smile flashes across his face.

“Congratulations, you two. Get some sleep.”

four months and three weeks.

Spencer isn’t sure how late it is, but he knows you’re not asleep yet, the faint glow of your phone screen casting faint distorted shadows across his room as your free hand rests lightly on his chest. In the dark blue twilight of his room, the space feels undefined and dream like somehow, the line between his mind and his surroundings blurry or indistinct somehow, and as you huff out a near silent laugh at something on the screen in your hand, a thought rises to the surface of his thoughts like flotsam on an unwanted tide.

The more clinical part of his mind notes the autonomic response in his body, the way his heart lurches unpleasantly in his chest, heart rate rising with an influx of cortisol through his nervous system, automatically rifling through ways to control the anxiety response. Age old instinct surges forwards, starting to push his spiralling anxiety down out of sight so as not to bother you with it, but then your hand shifts infinitesimally on his chest, fingers curling in the soft fabric of his pyjama shirt, and for once his body is miles ahead of his brilliant mind, your name is leaving his lips before he’s really aware of it happening.

Your gaze flashes up from your phone at the sound of his voice, soft and hesitant, and you let the screen go dark as you set it down. You can feel Spencer’s heart hammering against his ribs under your palm, and your brows knit together in concern as you shift closer to his side, tracing gentle circles over his shirt with your fingertips, the repetitive motion intended to soothe, though you’re not sure if it’s for his benefit or yours.

“Yeah, baby?” You ask softly, working hard to keep the rising worry from your voice. After three years of friendship and almost six months of dating, you know him well enough to sense when his propensity for overthinking and catastrophizing is slipping out of his control. You can feel his chest rise as he inhales sharply, whatever he’s about to say cut off by second guessing, doing nothing to pacify your concern. “Spence? Is everything okay?” You ask again.

“This-bet-hiding our relationship-it’s-” he trails off, throat tight as he rolls onto his side, facing away from you, and smushing his face into the pillow, already wishing he hadn’t said anything. You’re the kindest person he’s ever met, but offering up this kind of raw insecurity feels like pulling teeth. Even if it’s you. Especially if it’s you. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to find out if you care about him enough to stay when his racing mind gets the better of him. The pillow muffles his voice as he says “never mind.”

You feel your own heart rate tic up in response to that, matching the wild beat of Spencer’s that you could feel under your palm only a second ago. “Baby, talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head, face still hidden in the pillow. “It’s stupid.”

He can feel the rush of your breath on his back as you sigh, and your voice is almost achingly patient as you say softly “it’s not stupid if it matters to you.” There’s a long pause, and you press yourself against his back, settling close and letting your hand slide over his side to rest on his chest, the heat of his skin sinking into yours even through his thin shirt. In spite of his height, he feels so small as you wrap yourself around him, drawing closer, trying to reassure him without yet knowing what he needs to be reassured of. “Spence?”

“Are you ashamed of-being with me? Is that why you want to hide it?” The words are almost whispered, the sound almost lost against his pillow and your heart sinks, plummeting faster and further than if you’d dropped it off the side of a skyscraper. You should’ve known he might worry about that, should have realised it might have felt that way. Remorse rises hot and bitter in your throat and you swallow it down, trying to steady your voice.

“Spencer. Sweetheart. No. Never. I could never be ashamed. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your arms wrap more tightly around him and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, the tension you can feel in every inch of his body making you feel more cruel and short-sighted than you already do. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it might feel like that. I could never be ashamed of being with you, Spence. You’re my favourite person.” He takes the kind of shaky, shallow breath that comes with trying not to cry and your heart breaks a little more as one of his hands slowly moves to cover yours where it rests against his chest, just over his heart.

As his hand rests over yours, his thumb strokes lightly along your knuckles, and he knows you know him well enough to notice the way his hand trembles, just a little, because then your hand is shifting against his, turning to clumsily tangle your fingers with his, holding tighter to him as he tries to collect himself, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath as his eyes squeeze shut. He can hear the contrition in your voice as you say softly “I’ve never really liked having people know everything about what’s going on in my life. And I love our friends but-something like this, that’s so-special? So new? I wanted to be able to keep it to just us for a while.”

“I’m sorry.” His voice comes out a little shaky, scarcely more than a whisper, and it’s more than you can take as you pull back and gently force him to roll over to face you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glassy and you recognise the fight to keep the tears unshed in the tight set of his jaw and the hard line of his lips. Leaning on your elbow, you lift your free hand to gently smooth out the furrows of his brow, letting your fingers linger along the planes of his face.

“Why are you sorry,” you ask gently. “You don’t need to be sorry, baby. Not for talking to me about things that bother you. We can tell everyone else tomorrow, if you want? We can call off the bet. Derek will live. If he’s got a problem with it I’ll turn all his shirts into crop tops.”

He can tell the joke is a last bid attempt to make him smile, to ease his fear, and it works. In spite of the anxious weight in his chest that feels like it’s pressing him into the mattress, Spencer laughs weakly, meeting your eyes, and he watches as a relieved smile breaks across your face, releasing your lower lip from where you’d trapped it worriedly between your teeth. The unmitigated affection that floods into your eyes renders him momentarily breathless as he takes in the moment. You’re still here, still trying to take care of him. Just as kind and steadfast as ever.

“No,” he says eventually, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you down on top of him like a living weighted blanket, letting your warmth chase the bulk of the tension from his body and luxuriating in the way you curl into him, one hand sliding into his hair. “We shouldn’t call off the bet. We still have to take Emily’s money, remember?”

Your sleepy laugh is the last thing he hears before his eyes close and the feel of your body wound around his lulls him to sleep.

five months.

SR: Can I talk to you about something?

DM: you dying or something? that’s a really fuckin ominous text to recieve out of the blue

SR: I’m not dying, why would that be what you assumed? I just have a question.

DM: just a figure of speech but what’s up?

SR: It’s about your bet with Emily. What’re the terms for it?

DM: wym?

SR: What exactly did you two make the bet about? What needs to happen in order for you to win the bet?

DM: does this count as collusion?

SR: Technically yes, but calling it collusion implies a certain degree of illegality.

DM: whatever anyway the terms i made with em were that you’d make some kind of move before your birthday but she reckoned you were gonna need some kind of near death experience to do anything about your crush why?

SR: I’m just making sure I have all the information.

DM: what’s going on pretty boy? you planning something?

SR: Maybe.

DM: not a helpful answer reid is everything good?

SR: Everything’s fine. We’re just figuring some stuff out. Nothing to worry about.

DM: is there something you’re not telling me?

SR: Don’t worry about it.

five months, three weeks and six days.

In the chaos that was the scramble from the briefing room to the jet, you haven’t yet had the chance to speak to Spencer about the outcome of his most recent thesis defence panel. By the time you’ve got a moment to breathe, the jet is underway, coasting across the country towards Montana, the whole team settled in for the six hour flight. You corner him in the tiny kitchen area of the jet as he’s making a mug of mediocre coffee, fingers tapping out an absent minded rhythm on the countertop as the coffee machine whirs, clearly not paying attention to anything outside of his head.

“Hey, boy genius.” He jumps, whirling around, eyes wide with surprise, and you smile fondly. “So?” You demand, and Spencer raises an eyebrow in confusion. You snort, rolling your eyes as you elaborate. “Your defence panel. Did it go okay?”

You’re shifting your weight and fidgeting restlessly with the belt loops on your pants and as he studies you for a moment, it occurs to Spencer that you’re nervous for him over this outcome. The thought brings an almost giddy smile to his face.

“You know this isn’t my first thesis defence panel, right?” He says mildly, deliberately burying the lede, enjoying the way you scowl in irritation too much to answer your question right away, too enamoured with this display of concern on his behalf.

“Don’t be difficult, Doctor Reid. It’s still a big deal.” He just shrugs noncommittally, and you huff, swatting his arm lightly. “So did it go well?” You ask again, eyes narrowing as you try to dissect his microexpressions, trying to discern the answer he seems determined to keep from you for yourself. A few seconds later, he relents.

“I can now add degree number six to my wall.” He confirms. Getting degrees doesn’t hold the same rush of pride for him now, the accomplishment feeling somewhat less exceptional as he acquires more of them, but the way your face lights up with pride for him reminds him how special the things he’s capable of can be. You’ve always made him feel like more than the sum of his parts somehow, like something infinitely more precious than he always assumed he is.

“I fucking knew it. That’s amazing, Spence,” you say, chest warm and full with pride and love, and his almost shy smile in return is enough to make a decision for you in a split second. Your hand dips into your back pocket, drawing something out, and you carefully hide it from view in your palm as Spencer tracks the motion curiously with his eyes.

Your eyes are shining with affection and something that looks like mischief and the way you’re smiling at him is more than enough to divert his attention as you step closer, just barely noticing as you slip something into his hand. You’re dangerously, distractingly close now, and he’s conscious, if somewhat distantly, that neither of you is concealed from the rest of the team, scant meters away in the seating area of the jet. But you’re smiling and close enough for him to feel your breath on his face and suddenly your lips are on his, and even after nearly seven months of being able to touch you like this, it’s enough to make him forget everything else as he melts into the contact, savouring the warmth of your skin and the faint smell of your shampoo.

You pull back a second later, the kiss over almost as soon as it started, but it’s enough to attract attention, and you can hear a belated ‘oh SHIT’ from Emily in the main cabin of the jet. In your peripheral vision, you can see money changing hands, your friends scrambling to react, but you don’t look at them, choosing to enjoy the bemused, affectionate look on Spencer’s face as his brain catches up to the events unfolding around the two of you.

“I was tired of keeping it a secret,” you say fondly, loud enough only for him to hear. “You win.”

Blinking in confusion, he finally tears his gaze away from yours, fingers uncurling to reveal the fifty dollar bill you had pressed into his palm right before you kissed him. The penny drops and he snorts with laughter, shaking his head in half hearted indignation as his other arm loops around you, pulling you in, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face from the rest of the team as he kisses your temple, revelling in the way you wind yourself around him in response.

“I was gonna do this in like two days. I wanted you to win,” he murmurs against your hairline, and he can feel your faint laughter.

“Too bad, baby. I’m used to getting my way,” you say, pulling back to steal another quick kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms with a wink, turning to face the onslaught of ‘care to fucking explain that’ and ‘I fucking told you so’ from the rest of your friends, tugging him with you by your joined hands.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid/reader #reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid #my writing #spencer reid fluff

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writingsoftheghost · 3 years ago

Text

Oblivious

Analogince get together story

Logan and Roman had been together for awhile, and they loved their relationship. But...when Virgil started joining the group more and more, the pair couldn’t help but let their attention wander.

It’s not that they loved each other any less, they just...both liked Virgil too. Roman felt bad about it, that is until Logan brought it up.

“I’m sorry!” Roman cries, “I didn’t mean to-”

Logan holds up a hand, “I’m not angry, Roman. Quite the opposite, actually, I’ve also found myself”-he coughs slightly, a red tint dusting across his cheeks- “Captivated by Virgil.”

Roman grins, “Really?”

“Yes, I have to say I find him quite endearing. Do you think it’s at all possible for him to engage in a romantic relationship with us?” He cocks his head to the side, a thoughtful scowl on his face.

Roman nods excitedly, “Oh, I think it’s possible.”

***

Virgil was sitting on the couch, when Roman decided to strike first.

“Hey, Hot Topic.” Roman plops down next to Virgil on the couch, closer than he’d ever sat before.

Virgil looks up from his phone for a second rolling his eyes slightly, “Aw, you think I’m hot.”

“Mm-hmm,” Roman nods. Virgil nearly chokes. “What are you up to?” The prince continues smoothly.

“I...um-nothing?” The anxious side answers.

“Well, that doesn’t sound very fun,” Roman purses his lips in a half pout, “What do you say we watch a movie?

Virgil shrugs, beginning to regain his composure, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Roman nods, he looks at Virgil for way too long and the anxious side can feel his face heating up again, “Why don’t you choose a movie?”

Virgil shrugs, “You can pick, we should invite Logan, though.” He’s hoping he doesn’t come across as desperate as he actually is. He knows bringing the prince’s boyfriend into the mix would take most attention away from him.

“That’s a lovely idea, I’m sure he’d love to join us.” Roman disappears for a brief period of time, returning with a smiling Logan.

“Hello, Virgil. How are you?” He smiles at Virgil warmly.

“Good. Do you want to pick the movie?”

Logan hums, “Roman and I would rather have you pick.”

Virgil looks at them both strangely, but he picks out a movie, nonetheless.

Twenty minutes into the movie, Virgil notices both Roman and Logan glancing over at him periodically.

He tugs at his sleeves anxiously, had he done something wrong? They were acting weird.

He wanted to leave the room now, it felt too tense and it was making it hard to focus on the movie.

He makes a small show out of glancing at the clock, “Oh, I should probably get to bed...” He glances at them, hoping he sounds convincing. His heart drops when he sees Logan’s brow furrow.

“You don’t usually go to bed this early, is everything alright?

Virgil tries to mask the massive breath he sucks in, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t sleep great last night. I’m gonna try to make up for it tonight.”

Logan’s frown deepens and Roman’s face falls too, nevertheless they let him go.

“Goodnight, Vee,” Roman calls up the stairs, “See you tomorrow.”

The couple turn to each other as soon as they hear the door to Virgil’s room shut.

Time for plan B.

*****

Logan packs a simple lunch pack, he smiles as he makes Virgil’s favorite finger foods. This plan was much more practical, he told himself.

Roman has left to ask Virgil to “hang out” for the day, Logan hopes he’d be able to convince him, he seemed uneasy the other night during their movie. Roman and Logan spent the last day coming up with this plan, as simple as it was, they thought it would work, Virgil preferred things to be simple after all. He and Logan were alike in that regard.

Logan smiles softly at the thought, however, he was quickly pulled back to reality by the sound of Virgil and Roman approaching.

“Im sure you and Logan would have more fun without me,” Virgil was saying.

“Nonsense, Logan and I both wish for you to join us.”

“Unless you really don’t want to,” Logan interrupts the pair as he steps into the living room.

“I...” Virgil’s eyes fall on the basket of food, “What did you two have planned?”

“We were just gonna go have a quiet lunch in the imagination,” Logan explains.

“And you two,” Virgil looks between the couple, confused, “Want me to come with you?”

Logan nods, “We would greatly appreciate your company.”

Virgil takes a deep breath, “Okay, I guess, as long as you’re both sure.” He glances at both of them, searching for any hint of malice or dislike, he felt bad about ruining their alone time, why would they want him to join them?

Roman smiles at him softly, “It’ll be fun, Virgil. The fresh air will be good for you.”

Virgil shrugs, “I don’t need fresh air, Princey.”

Logan grabs their lunch and Roman’s hand, “Are you both ready to go?”

Roman nods enthusiastically, “Been ready for hours! You take forever to make food!”

Logan rolls his eyes, “I like things to be done well, Roman, sometimes that takes a little extra time.”

Roman huffs, “You need anything before we leave, Virge?”

Virgil shrugs, “I don’t know, do I need to bring anything?”

“I wouldn’t think so, I’ve packed and prepared for just about everything that we’d need,” Logan assures.

“Okay,” Virgil mumbles, “‘Guess Im ready.”

“Wonderful!” Before Logan can stop him Roman reaches out and grabs Virgil’s hand.

Virgil flinches, but doesn’t pull away fully, he tries not to let Roman see the look of shock and confusion on his face.

Roman loosens his grip on Virgil’s hand slightly, worried he may have upset him, but then Virgil gives a soft squeeze and then, just like that, they’re holding hands, and Roman is leading the way to the imagination with the biggest smile he thinks he’s ever had.

Logan and Roman had already scouted the area they were going to eat at, a nice open field, perfect for easing a certain side’s parano-vigilance. The field contained a total of six trees, so it wasn’t like there could be anything lurking in the shadows.

Logan laid out a soft blanket, one with a texture that they knew Virgil liked, under the biggest tree.

Virgil sat himself on the edge of the blanket furthest from Logan and Roman. It was a big enough blanket for the distance to be noticeable, it made Logan worry that Virgil didn’t want to be there with them.

He had expected Virgil to be a little suspicious, even a little distant, at least at first, Logan knew this would be strange to him, he doubted the socially distant trait had ever been courted before.

“Virgil?” He asks in a calm tone, “Would you like some juice?” He’d been careful to avoid caffeine, knowing it could potentially highten Virgil’s anxiety.

Virgil shrugs, “I guess.”

Logan takes out the bottle of grape juice and the glasses he’d packed carefully earlier that day. When he offers Virgil a glass, he realizes that either he will have to move, or Virgil will have to move, go bridge the distance across the blanket.

Virgil makes the decision rather quickly, darting over and taking the glass from Logan, “Thank you.” He starts to shuffle back to his corner when Roman stops him.

“Why don’t you sit in the middle, Vee? That way you can reach the food?”

Virgil looks to the ground, “Didn’t want to invade your space.”

Logan frowns when he notices the hesitancy in the other’s voice, as if he isn’t sure he’s wanted. Which Logan couldn’t help but groan internally at, they’d invited him and he still feels like an intruder, anxiety truly was devoid of any logic.

“Virgil,” he holds out his hand towards the other in invitation, “You know we want you here, don’t you?”

Virgil won’t look at him, Logan sighs, “You’re more than welcome, here. We invited you, why would we invite you if we wanted you to just sit by yourself quietly? Hm?”

Virgil shrugs, “Dunno,” he mumbles.

“Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable, stormcloud?” Roman interjects in a gentle tone, he’s aware of the tension in the way Virgil’s sitting now.

“I’m sorry,” Virgil says shakily, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s alright,” Roman whispers, “You wanna go back? I’m sorry we pressured you to come.”

Virgil shakes his head firmly, “I wanna stay, I just…don’t want to be in the way. It kinda feels like I’m intruding on a date, why was I the only person you invited? You know Patton loves outdoor lunches.”

“We know, Virgil, we just…” Logan looks at Roman, Roman gives a small head shake and Logan sighs, “We just wanted to spend time with you. We didn’t mean to make you feel awkward, we’re sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I don’t know why I’m being so weird about it, but,” and he slowly slides his hand into Logan’s open one on the blanket, “I think I’ll be okay, now.”

“Are you sure? It really isn’t a problem if you want to go home?” Roman assures.

Virgil nods his head, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Logan smiles and squeezes his hand softly, they all know Virgil likes physical reassurance sometimes, and they’re glad he’s started accepting, and even asking for it on occasion. Patton has to remind himself constantly that Virgil has to be the one to initiate it, however.

Roman pulls out plates and food from the pack, Virgil tries to give Logan back his hand, but he’s quickly stopped, “Please don’t let go until you’re ready, okay?” Logan smiles at him, “My right hand is fully capable of doing this alone, I promise.”

Roman hands him a plate and asks Virgil what he’d like.

They eat comfortably, Virgil relaxes enough to let go of Logan’s hand, but moves closer to him and Roman anyway. Virgil talks about Halloween coming up and Logan tells him that he’s already put horror movies into the schedule for that month.

When they finish their food they continue to sit there and talk quietly. A soft breeze blowing through the field making the place even more peaceful. They were all enjoying a moment of quiet when…

Hic!

Roman sits up and stares at a blushing Virgil in shock.

The emo side ducks his head, “Shut up, Pri-hic!-ncey,” he says in an attempt at a growl.

Roman smirks, “Is there a problem, Virgil? You seem to be having a bit of trouble.”

Logan giggles, “You don’t need to be embarrassed about the hiccups, Virgil. Everyone gets them.”

“I don’t—hic—have the hiccups!” He grumbles.

Roman laughs and Logan laughs, Virgil glares at them both for a moment, but he can’t hold it for very long before he’s laughing too.

“Stop laughing at me!” He shouts between giggles.

“I don’t think,” Roman wheezes, “I’ve ever seen you hiccup before.”

“Shut—hic—up!” Virgil shoves him off the blanket with a laugh.

Roman sits back on the blanket, “Gosh, you’re adorable.”

Virgil and Logan both freeze, Virgil glancing nervously at Logan, Logan and Roman both looking at him, horrified at the thought that they’d just blown it.

“I—uh—”Virgil is still staring at Logan, a look of fear in his voice. Virgil looks at him, the face of logic not giving him any ideas as to what he’s supposed to do. He shakes his head, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Virgil,” Logan says softly.

Roman sucks in a harsh breath, understanding the apology as a gentle rejection.

They sit in awkward silence for an eternity.

“Perhaps it’s…time we head back?” Logan suggests in a quiet tone.

Virgil’s heart drops as he decidedly believes Logan hates him now. “Yeah-Yeah, sure.”

They walk back in silence. Virgil stuffs his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. Roman and Logan keep glancing at him, both taking his silence as a sign of discomfort.

They allow him to go to his room, wincing at the sound of his door shutting softly, not even a slam.

“I ruined it,” Roman whispers sadly.

Logan shakes his head, “We still have a chance, Love.”

Roman shakes his head, “He wouldn’t even look at me.”

“He couldn’t stop looking to me,” Logan whispers back, “I didn’t know what to say, I chose a cowards way out. I fled.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Roman places a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry I messed this up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up,” Logan wraps his arms around Roman’s neck and kisses a tear sliding down his cheek. “We should give him some space, we can check back in tomorrow.”

Roman nods and allows Logan to lead him to bed, not really believing any of the logical side’s attempts to reassure him.

*****

Virgil stays in his room through breakfast. Roman liked him. He should be happy! He likes Roman! But…he likes Logan too, and he’d never wanted to get between them like this.

Logan told him it was alright, Virgil took that to mean that he didn’t really blame him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t upset. He can only imagine the fight he and Roman probably had last night.

Virgil’s heart skips a beat when he thinks about the two of them breaking up.

He didn’t know what he did to ever catch Creativity’s attention but he wished he hadn’t done it. He felt truly awful for doing this to them.

“Kiddo,” there’s a knock at his bedroom door, “You need to eat lunch, it’s almost 1:30.” Patton sounds worried, Virgil hasn’t locked himself in his room like this since he ducked out.

“I’m not hungry, Pat. I’ll eat later.”

Patton frowns, “Virge?” He asks hesitantly. “Is everything okay? You know you can talk to me if you need to?”

“I’m fine, Pops.”

Patton isn’t convinced, “Hey…you don’t have to talk about it, but if you don’t want to be by yourself you can come to my room? Might help to be somewhere else for awhile?”

Virgil sighs, “you sure?”

“Of course.”

Virgil opens the door and Patton gives him a sad smile, “come on, I’ll get you something to eat and some tea.”

Virgil nods, “Thank you.”

Patton sits down on his bed next to Virgil, passing him a sandwich and some chips.

“I messed up,” Virgil whispers as he takes a chip.

Patton looks at him in surprise, “What did you mess up, Virge?”

“Logan and Roman, I messed up their relationship. They’re fighting and it’s all my fault.”

Patton scoots closer, “I didn’t know they were fighting. How is it your fault, honey?”

“I just…I don’t know why, they invited me out to lunch with them, and it…it was weird! But then it wasn’t, and it was nice, but…Roman called me adorable and I…I like him, but he’s Logan’s boyfriend and I never wanted to hurt Logan because I like him too and I just… Logan probably hates me now, and Roman and Logan might break up and it’ll be all my fault and there’s no way I can ever make it up to him!” Virgil’s breathless when he finishes. He doesn’t know when he started crying.

Patton shakes his head, he remembers when Logan and Roman told him they liked Virgil. When Logan had asked him what Virgil’s favorite foods were. How Patton made them both promise they would be patient and gentle with Virgil’s already shot nerves.

He can’t help but be a little upset with them for letting Virgil wallow in this all day. He pushes that feeling aside, and decides to help his three hopeless friends out.

“Virge, I can assure you, Roman and Lo are gonna be just fine. But I think you should go talk to them about this. I think there might’ve been a bit of a mix up.”

Virgil cocks his head, “What do you mean?”

Patton shakes his head again, “They’re not fighting, kiddo. I promise, just go talk to them.”

“But I—”

“Trust me.”

And with that Patton is nudging him towards the door and Virgil’s in the hall.

He glances worriedly back at the father figure.

“They’re in Logan’s room last I saw.” Patton shuts the door.

Virgil feels a slight sting of betrayal at having been abandoned to face the pair alone, but he approaches the door anyway.

He stands there for two and a half minutes before knocking.

“What is it?” Logan calls through the door.

“It’s—um—it’s me, I think maybe I need to—”

The door swings open, “Virgil?”

The logical side looks as if he hasn’t slept well, Roman is standing behind him in a similar state. Virgil can just barely see the whiteboard on the back wall covered in incomprehensible diagrams and cluster graphs.

“Hey…” he gives a weird little half wave for some reason he doesn’t understand.

“Are you…alright?” Roman asks hesitantly.

“Me?” Virgil asks in confusion, “Are you two okay?”

Logan nods, “We’re dreadfully sorry, we didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that, we—”

“I got carried away, Virgil. I’m sorry,” Roman cuts Logan off.

“You couldn’t help yourself, I shouldn’t have chosen such an intimate activity for us,” Logan defends his boyfriend.

“No, this is my fault. I’m the one that put the pressure on him.”

“Love, I should’ve planned for this. I know you can’t help yourself when it comes to your feelings.”

“You can’t plan for everything. I should’ve—”

“Hold on a second!” Virgil interrupts, “Did I miss something? What are you two arguing over?”

“It doesn’t matter, Virgil,” Logan composes himself, “We both apologize for making you uncomfortable. It was not our intention, regardless, we understand if you do not wish to go on anymore dates with us”

Virgil stares at him in complete in total confusion. “Dates?”

Roman’s eyes widen, “Surely you’re aware of what we’ve been doing. We took you to a romantic lunch! We’ve been flirting with you constantly! What did you think was happening?”

Virgil looks at Logan, the logical side gives a small smile and a nod. “I thought,” Virgil starts, “I don’t know, I guess I just thought we were hanging out, and then I guess I thought Roman was hitting on me. I didn’t realize Logan was.”

“So that’s why you acted so upset,” Roman mumbles.

“Ah, I see. My advances are less…direct,” Logan explains sheepishly.

Virgil nods, “Yeah I got that now, but I thought…that I’d ruined your relationship! That I’d broken you up or something! Oh my god I hardly slept at all last night!”

Logan winces sympathetically, “We didn’t either, but we’re very sorry for distressing you.”

“It’s fine,” Virgil shrugs it off. “But you guys…both of you…want to date me?”

“Of course, if you’d allow us,” Logan smiles, “We both find you quite endearing. Would you be willing to let us continue to romance you?”

“Logan, you make it sound so formal,” roman laughs, but he has an excited gleam in his eye, “You wanna date us, Virgil? You can say no, it’s okay, but if the answer is yes we’d both be delighted to have you as our boyfriend.”

Virgil can’t help it, he’s skeptical, this feels too much like something he’d dream up, he looks both of them in the face, hunting for any sign of a joke or a lie. There isn’t any, just encouraging smiles.

“Yeah, I’d…I’d like that a whole lot.”

He’s quickly wrapped in two pairs of arms, happy laughter filling his ears.

—————

@idont-freaking-know @aceawkwardunicorn @cute-and-angsty-princess @emo--nightmaree @a-yeet-bop-bop-boom @me-a-mess-morelikelythanyouthink @katlikethesword @tranquil-space-ninja @book-limerence

#oblivious #sanders sides #Virgil #Roman #Logan #ts roman #fanfic #thomas sanders #ts virgil #ts Logan #analogince #getting together

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missmorosis · 4 years ago

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sleep

pairing: oikawa x reader genre: fluff/comfort :) word count: 600 warnings: none summary: school’s getting you stressed out, you’re working on assignment after assignment, and all oikawa wants is for you to get some rest.

You sighed and tried to rub the sleepiness out of your eyes. You brought your mug of coffee to your lips, the caffeine almost addicting, and got back to work.

A quick glance at your phone told you it was almost 3 am. The stress was really coming strong at this point, and you wanted to just give up and go to bed, but of course you couldn't. Not with the half-dozen assignments you still had left to do...

While you were typing, strong arms wrapped around your back, and you turned to see Oikawa's chin resting on your right shoulder.

"Hey," you mumbled, leaning your head onto his with a soft giggle. "Whatcha doing?"

"You've been working on your assignments all day," he pouted. You sighed, and nodded in agreement. You hadn’t had the chance to rest since the morning, because you were so busy with all of the schoolwork you needed to do.

"There’s just a lot of stuff I need to get done..." you said, apologetically. With that, your attention shifted back to your laptop, and you started to type again, but Oikawa pulled your face towards him, making you face him.

"You need to get some rest, you're gonna get sick," he said, seriously. "Did you even eat dinner?" You waved him off, but his grip on your waist tightened. "C'mon, at least get some sleep." He poked your shoulder, and you rolled your eyes. You loved how caring your boyfriend was, but you needed to get this done.

"I can't, at least until I'm finished- ahh!" You yelped as he lifted you out of your chair, pulling you towards his chest. He lay on your bed behind you, forcing you to come down with him

"Tooru-" you started, but he placed one finger on your lips, signaling for you to be quiet.

"Shh, Y/N. Sleep." His arms wrapped around you, but you tried to pull them off.

"Tooru, you know I can't."

"Sure you can." He pulled you closer, nuzzling against you. The warmth was comforting, and all you wanted to do was close your eyes and forget about the mountain of work you needed to complete. If only you had done the assignments earlier; they wouldn't have piled up.

"Now all you have to do is fall asleep. You can finish your stuff in the morning," he mumbled quietly, him slowly falling asleep himself. Oh, how you were tempted to do so as well, but you knew better.

"Please let me go." Tears pricked your eyes, and you tried to blink them away. Why were you crying? You huffed and turned away, so your boyfriend wouldn’t be able to see your new tears falling down your face.

"No can do." He shook his head, and you sighed. There's no way you could finish the assignments tomorrow; the only way was to do them now. There was just so much you needed to do...

"Are- are you crying?" he whispered. How did he know...? It was almost like he had a sixth sense. His eyes opened immediately; his restful look quickly morphing into one of concern. He turned your body so you faced him, and his concern only made you cry more.

"Sorry- sorry... I know it's stupid... I’m just so overwhelmed- There's just... too many things to do, Tooru. I can't sleep now, even though I want to. There'll be way too much to do tomorrow, and on top of that, I agreed to help with the bake sale our school is organizing-" You were cut off with a kiss.

"Baby, don't stress!" His finger wiped away the stray tear that fell down your cheek. "We can finish it together, alright? I'll handle the bake sale for you, but in return, I need you to sleep."

"Tooru-"

"Do you want my help or not? Don't worry about the assignments. I'll take care of it."

"O- okay. Fine."

"Awesome." He brought you close to his chest, and you slowly relaxed, your eyes closing, knowing that you could trust Oikawa to take care of you.

A/N: PFFT SO I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IM DOING. am i writing for haikyuu now? i guess so.

like n reblog for me babes :D

#oikawa torū #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x you #haikyuu comfort #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu fluff

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nanorift · 3 years ago

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[2:42 am]

nanorift (killjoy x yoru) one shot.

okay but hear me out, picture killjoy sitting in her lab, tinkering away with her stuff. she gets frustrated after a while and starts throwing her stuff at the walls. it has been five days since she started reworking her turret, trying to see if she could make it more accurate.

"why is nothing working? i could have sworn i did the calculations right! it just doesnt make any sense..." she mutters, tossing and turning all while trying to be quiet so that the other agents dont wake up.

sighing, she gets up to clean up her stuff, grunting at the fact that she hasnt even thought of making a bot that could clean up her room. not long after, she hears a knock on her door.

"who is it?" she says, slightly annoyed before she sees yoru at the door, crossing his arms with a stern look.

"why are you still up?" he says, looking around at the mess.

"i could ask you the same question, its 2 am, yoru. you should head to bed," killjoy replies, picking up her mangled turret and setting it on the table.

"i could if it werent for you throwing your science shit all over the place. what are you working on anyway?" he says, walking in, not even bothering to spare her a glance.

"nothing, im just trying to make chickie here more accurate when he spots enemies."

"chickie?"

"my turret, i mean," she rolls her eyes at yoru finishing up what was left on the floor. "nothing just seems to be working."

yoru smirks, scoffing a little "looks like youre not that smart after all," he says, before earning a punch on the arm from the little scientist.

killjoy walked over to her bed before stopping. "you know what? maybe i just need some fresh air. maybe im just stressed," she says to herself. "yes yes thats probably it."

"youre going out at this hour? on your own?" yoru asked, slight concern in his eyes, not that killjoy noticed it. she was too busy putting her hoodie on.

"well- yeah? i mean, i would wake raze up but she has a mission tomorrow," the brunette says picking up her small yellow purse that raze gifted to her on her birthday. "its not like anyone would wake up if i tried anyways."

killjoy heads over to her door, but before she could reach the handle, yoru exhales a sigh, ruffling his hair. he takes killjoy's arm and drags her down the hall and out of HQ.

"hEY HEY- what are you doing??" she whisper-shouts, earning a shush from the japanese boy, to which she obliged. he takes out some keys from his pocket before picking up his helmet from a rack near the entrance.

"if youre gonna head out at this hour, at least let me escort you. those mirror idiots have spies too you know," he says, buckling the slightly-too-big helmet on the girl.

"Awww, you do care!" she exclaims. "but what about you? you dont have a spare helmet, do you?"

"i dont need a helmet, you on the other hand, need to take care of yourself more," he says, getting on his motorbike while addressing killjoy's wounds on her hands- which were mostly from experimenting too much on her swarm grenades.

she reluctantly sits behind him, holding his waist tightly. she can feel him tense up but brushes it off, too tired to think of anything. she just wanted to watch the night sky and feel the breeze on her face. maybe yoru was right, she does need to take care of herself more. she never gets enough sleep, lives on caffeine and sometimes fall asleep during missions (which was quite concerning, since she's usually watching out for flanks). maybe she was too hard on herself, she keeps offering to fix up the other agents' stuff, never did she ever thought to think that maybe she's the one that needs fixing up.

yoru, well, he noticed of course. his room was just across from hers and he could hear her tinkering going on till dawn, not that he ever thought to tell her of course. he didnt think killjoy would stop even if he did tell her to.

but of course, he still cares.

—

AAAAA i need more nanorift content ;-;

#nanorift #killjoy #yoru #valorant #yoru x killjoy #valorant fanfiction

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reckzieblogs · 3 years ago

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hey! today im starting a 5 day fast omg it’s gonna be so hard but over the last few weeks i’ve had exams and needed the energy so i haven’t been restricting as much ans my weight has been between 137-140 so i just wanna get that down and get back on track.

i’ve heard you can lose 5-10 lbs doing this i know it’s gonna be soooo hard but i’m gonna post a daily update including weigh ins and just document it to keep going

generally what i’ve heard is day 1,2 are the hardest but after day 3 your body just adjusts to it so today i’m going to the movies during what would usually be dinner so i physically cant eat dinner and tomorrow i have school so i’ll be pretty distracted for most of the day

during the fast i am going to drink water and black coffee maybe some green tea because when i do fast i get really fatigued and i need the caffeine but yeah anyway i’ll let you all know how it’s going if you’re interested! 💙

#ana #thinspø #anadiet #anorecsick #anorektyczki #bulimik #ed restriction #mia #notprojustusehashtags #edtips #skinnnny #ed #thinspi #bulimxa #ana ed

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walkerrenee · 3 years ago

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‼️‼️‼️

Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World SPOILERS under the cut:

hello, this is just a random post to document my reactions as i read the Ari and Dante sequel, it's not going to be interesting just me screaming mostly but i might spoil something so beware.

start time: 1:55pm (pacific time) 10/13/21

1:56 pm - i've read the first page and am already crying, this is going fantastic

1:57pm - "i'm already home. i'm with you"

no🤍

1:59 pm - "i love the rain more than anything." "i know. i want to be the rain." "you are the rain, Dante."

CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP

2:29pm - i have a feeling i'm going to be crying everytime a character is crying

2:34pm - hahahhahaha not religion i haven't worked through my religious trauma yet help

3:02pm - sometimes i relate so much to Ari it feels like someone crawled into my brain to extract my deepest thoughts

4:02pm - they way they have to pretend to kiss makes me want to fling myself off a cliff (:

4:14pm - A POEM SHUT UP

5:40 pm - I WANT TO KEEP READING BUT IM FALLING ASLEEP

6:07pm - UPDATE i've obtained caffeine and ordered Dominoes we're back in business I WILL FINISH THIS BOOK ASAP

6:21 pm - someone be my very own dante quintana please im emo

6:39pm - they just met emma and i'm bawling so of course my dominoes driver pulls up at this exact moment

8:11pm - ok i'm really slacking on reading, i keep crying and i feel like something not very great is gonna happen and i'm scared i'm not mentally stable enough for all this

8:18pm - idk if dante calling ari "aristotle quintana" was just a typo or not but i loved it lmao (also if it is a typo it's the 2nd one i've noticed smh they should have hired me to proofread)

8:21pm - "i used to think that she wanted me to be someone else. but it wasn't her who wanted me to be someone else—it was me"

OKAY NO NEED TO CALL ME OUT WTF

8:25pm - NO I DONT LIKE HOW THEYRE TALKING ABOUT ARI'S DAD AND FUNERALS NOPE THIS BETTER NOT BE SOME SICK TWISTED FORESHADOWING I SWEAR TO GOD

8:43pm - "if we're lucky. if we're very lucky, the universe will send us the people we need to survive"

riGHT i had to take a break to sob my eyes out at this part <3

9:57pm - i have only just officially made it halfway through the book, too much crying not enough reading

10:49pm - ok i took a break to paint my nails but i'm officially back on my bullshit pt.2 let's go

10:55pm - "to imagine a future for ari and dante was a fantasy. i did't want to live my life in a fantasy. the world i wanted to live in didn't exist. and i was struggling to love the world i did live in. i wondered if i was strong enough or good enough to love a world that hates me."

IM 3 PAGES INTO THE SECOND HALF AND ONCE AGAIN SOBBING

11:11pm - "but, for me, to love was one thing. to let yourself be loved, well, that was the most difficult thing of all."

HAHAskfsjutdbgsardzrizurzufxbigstk

11:58 pm - "i wondered why people felt they could speak for god."

i have no words tbh

12:07am - he's really going to kill Jaime off isn't he? I CANT STAND THIS FUCK OFF HASNT THIS FAMILY BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH I DONT CARE IF THIS IS HOW REAL LIFE IS IT SUCKS AND IM GOING TO CRY AND I HATE CRYING

12:18am - i mean i already knew bernardo was a piece of shit but god (also i'm glad the topic of the victim being transgender was handled better in this book, by ari mostly obviously. i hated how it was addressed and brushed aside in the first book.)

12:31am - alright i have work in the morning so i should probably sleep, i ended on dante saying the new year was going to be their best one ever so obviously in book language that means shit's about to hit the fan so i'll let future me suffer with that tomorrow (:

DAY 2

12:25pm - i am currently at work waiting for laundry to dry so i am ready for round 2

12:29pm - NO WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK YOU CANT JUST START THE CHAPTER ABOUT HOW HAPPY ARI IS AND HOW HIS MOM AND DAD LOVE NEW YEARS AND THEN FUCKING KILL HIS DAD IN THE SAME CHAPTER FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF

12:43pm - i hate it here i hate everything i haven't cried this hard in years whyyyyyyyg

2:30pm - WAIT A SECOND did he change ari's sisters names in the sequel? i literally just realized, i'm pretty sure he did, i dont have the first book by me atm but i'm almost positive. who tf let this get published like that im screaming

4:35pm - FUCK YOU DANTE I'LL KICK YOUR ASS I SWEAR TO GOD

4:43 pm- "he's not just some boy, mom. he's dante quintana."

SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE I'VE BEEN WOUNDED

5:02 pm - "i was going to ask you to marry me. but they won't let us do that. so i thought maybe it was best just to skip the wedding and get straight to the honeymoon." "have you decided where you'd take me?" "yes, i thought i'd take you to paris. we'll spend our time writing our names on the map of the city of love."

that's it. IVE FINISHED IT. and i'm crying and i loved it and i hated it and ari and dante grow old together in love and no one will convince me otherwise or take that away from me thank you very much. now i will live in a purgatory of numbness for the next week while i try and process this

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livesincerely · 4 years ago

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it’s so easy (too easy) to love you, ch. 1

Also on Ao3

00000

Davey’s just gotten out of class—literally just walked out the door—when his phone starts ringing.

“Davey,” Tony says the moment he answers, not even giving Davey time to say hello, “can you swing by the apartment real quick?”

Davey sighs. “Are you locked out of the house again?”

There’s a guilty silence. Then, “Or maybe I just wanna see you, huh? You don’t know.”

“Tony.”

“Charlie’s the one that lost the spare,” Tony capitulates immediately, there’s an indignant “Hey!” somewhere in the background, “and I left my keys in my locker ‘cause I thought Charlie had his—”

There’s a scuffle of noise, then Charlie’s voice breaks in, “—don’t listen to him Davey, I asked him before we even got on the subway if he had his keys and he said he did but he didn’t even check—”

“—well, I thought you had yours, didn’t I?—”

“—and he was twenty minutes late picking me up from band practice because he was too busy making out with Spot Conlon to come help me carry my stuff—”

“—that was supposed to be a secret you little shit!”

“—you started it!”

Davey pulls the phone away from his ear as the other side of the line descends into a mess of indistinct yelling. He thinks about trying to get their attention, but he decides to just start heading towards the apartment, muting his side of the call while he waits them out—they’ll remember him eventually.

In the meantime, Davey sends a quick text:

Tony and Charlie locked themselves out of the house again

He’s not expecting a response, but Jack must be in-between projects because he gets one almost immediately.

jc again?

And you’re going to have to get a new spare made

fuck okay i’ll take care of it. are you heading over?

I’m walking there now

ur the light of my life dave

Davey can’t help but smile at this, a soft feeling fluttering in his chest. Before he can write back, Jack sends another text:

how did ur midterm go?

I feel good about it! Def did better than I thought it would!

duh youve been living in the library all week ofc ur gonna do great. ill swing by the grocery omw home and pick up some ice cream to celebrate. do we need anything else while im there?

Get a bell pepper and some tomato paste, I’m going to make spaghetti for dinner. And we need more laundry detergent.

fuck yes im starving! can we do garlic bread too?

Come home on time and we’ll see.

u drive a hard bargain. kerian owes me a favor so he can stay late tonight lol

“Davey?” The sound of Charlie’s voice, tinny and muffled, prompts Davey to lift his phone back to his ear; it seems like he might’ve been calling Davey’s name for a while. “Are you still there?”

“I’m still here,” Davey confirms.

“So are ya comin’ or what?” Tony cuts in, ever impatient. “I’m roasting out here!”

“Well, I was thinking about leaving you to ruminate on your poor life choices,” Davey responds dryly, “but I guess I can come let you in, since you asked so nicely.”

“Thanks, Davey,” Charlie says.

“I’ll be there soon,” Davey confirms.

“Hurry, will ya? Much longer and I’m gonna get heatstroke and die,” Tony declares.

Davey rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Tony.”

00000

When he arrives at Jack’s building some twenty minutes later, Davey finds Tony and Charlie right where he expects them: crowded together in the little bit of shade the roof’s overhang offers, wearing identical grumpy expressions that brighten immediately when they spot him approaching.

"Finally!" Tony exclaims, shooting to his feet. "What took you so long?"

“Stop losing your keys and you won’t have to wait for me,” Davey counters, slotting his key into the deadbolt and hefting open the heavy exterior door. He props it open with his hip and lets Tony and Charlie scurry past him into the AC. “You couldn’t get anyone to buzz you in?”

“Old Man Davis hasn’t gotten his hearing aid replaced yet,” Charlie explains as they climb the stairs up to the second floor, “and Mrs. Ikeda isn’t home.”

“She joined a new book club,” Tony adds. “She won’t be back till late.”

“Oh, I’ll have to ask her about it when I see her next,” Davey muses.

He gets the apartment door unlocked and the boys pile inside, tossing their backpacks down with dramatic groans of relief. Charlie makes a beeline for his bedroom; Davey expects Tony to do the same but he takes a seat at the kitchen table instead, booting up his laptop with a couple of keystrokes.

“I’ve got a paper due in English tomorrow,” Tony explains. “Can you look it over once it’s finished? Maybe later this evening”

“Of course,” Davey replies. “What’s it on?”

“Lord of the Flies.”

Davey’s nose wrinkles up. “Oh, I hated that one. What’s the essay prompt?”

“Identify Golding’s argument about human nature as proposed in Lord of the Flies,” Tony reads off the top of the assignment outline. “Then make an argument agreeing or disagreeing with his assessment, using evidence from the text.”

Davey rolls his eyes. “Good to see that high school literature classes haven’t changed much in the last few years,” he says with a sigh. “How much have you written so far?”

“Oh, I haven’t even started it yet,” Tony casually rebuts.

“Is everything going okay?” Davey asks, frowning slightly. “If things are getting worse we can make an appointment—”

But Tony waives his concerns aside. “Nah, this is regular old procrastination, not ADHD procrastination. Like ya said, Lord of the Flies sucks ass, so I just didn’t want to write it.”

“Well, let one of us know if you start having trouble,” Davey says.

"Okay, mom,” Tony agrees, somewhat distracted. He’s already got a blank document pulled up on his laptop, a battered and thoroughly dog-eared copy of the book laying open beside him.

Davey looks at him for another moment, then he shrugs and continues making his way into the kitchen—he figures there’s no need to worry unless Racer starts actually missing assignments. And he’s right: Lord of the Flies does suck ass.

By the time Jack gets home they’re each fully entrenched in different activities: Davey’s washed a sink full of dishes and is working on drying the last few pieces of silverware, Tony is still posted up at the kitchen table, carefully hammering out a draft of his paper, and there are the familiar sounds of Charlie working through different musical scales on his oboe in the back bedroom.

“Honey, I’m home!” Jack calls jokingly as he enters. There’s a rustle of plastic and soft thunk of the front door closing behind him, then he comes around the corner into the dining room with an armful of groceries.

“Hey, Jack,” Davey greets absently. He starts rifling through the bags almost before Jack can finish putting them down. “Did you get the tomato—?”

“I got the tomato paste,” Jack says, kicking off his shoes and leaving them in the entryway with all the others, “and I picked up some more of that fancy coffee you like from the place around the corner, even though it’s expensive as all hell.”

“Don’t judge me,” Davey replies, gathering up an armful of vegetables and carrying them further into the kitchen. “You spend a semester grading 'Intro to Shakespeare' homework and tell me how much caffeine you consume.”

“I’m just saying, the rest of us schmucks drink regular coffee and do just fine,” Jack continues. “You can feed your crippling caffeine addiction just as well with Folgers and it’ll cut down on the grocery bill.”

“Watch it, Kelly,” Davey says, pointing a finger teasingly in Jack’s direction. “Smartasses don’t get dinner.”

“‘s that so?” Jack asks with a grin. “Then why the hell are we still feeding Tony?”

“I heard that,” Tony grumbles from the kitchen table.

“Yeah, you were supposed to,” Jack says, moving over to Tony and slinging an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a side hug. Tony bats at Jack’s hand but makes no real attempt to get away. Then Jack says, “So, I hear you and your brother lost another set of keys.”

Tony throws Davey a look of the deepest betrayal. “You told Jack?”

“Of course he did,” Jack says. “Someone’s gonna have to get new ones made, and it sure ain’t gonna be either half of the dynamic duo.”

“Charlie lost the spare,” Tony says, mercilessly throwing Charlie under the bus while he’s not in the room to defend himself. “And I didn’t lose my keys, I just left them in my locker.”

“Uh huh, save it for the judge,” Jack responds, ruffling Tony’s hair. “Just know if I end up having to change the deadbolt, it’s coming outta your subway money.”

“Jackie, leave Tony alone,” Davey comments mildly over Tony’s spluttering protests. “He needs to work on that paper and you’re distracting him.”

“Yeah, Jack,” Tony repeats, a little smug. “You’re distracting me.”

Davey turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised. Tony quickly busies himself with his homework.

Davey makes quick work of washing a green pepper and peeling an onion, then starts dicing both into small, neat pieces. He feels more than hears Jack sidle up behind him: the familiar weight of his gaze, the solid presence at his back. He stands there quietly, leaning against the counter-top and just watching Davey cook; unbothered, Davey leaves him be for the moment and moves to the stove, scraping the chopped vegetables off the cutting board and into a pan to start softening.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Davey glances over his shoulder at Jack and says, “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me with this? You know there’s no loitering in my kitchen.”

“Well, I’m nothin’ if not a law abidin’ citizen,” Jack drawls in answer, the corner of his mouth quirking up. He rolls up his shirt sleeves, exposing the long, muscular line of his forearms, and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. “Where do you want me?”

Davey licks his lips. “Think you can handle browning the hamburger?”

“I’m sure I can manage,” Jack responds with a smirk.

Davey steps out of the way, letting Jack take his place in front of the sauce pan while he gets a pot of water set up on a different burner, salting it so it boils faster. They settle into their familiar dinner-routine, moving around and past each other with ease as they work on getting everything ready, chattering idly all the while.

“I’ve gotta head back out this evening,” Jack says at one point, as he sets the tray of garlic bread in the oven to toast. “Johnson’s got me working a night shoot and I have to be downtown by 9.”

“How long is the session?” Davey asks. “Here, will you open this?”

“We’re scheduled for five hours, but we might get to wrap it up early if everything goes well.” Jack’s hand brushes against the small of Davey’s back and they trade places again, Davey stepping back up to the stove-top and Jack rifling around in one of the drawers for a can opener.

“Are ya spendin’ the night or are ya headin’ back to campus?”

“Depends on how much help Tony needs with his paper,” Davey replies, shaking his head. He takes the can when Jack hands it back to him and empties it into the saucepan, then gives the whole thing a good stir. “We might be at it a while.”

Jack huffs out a laugh. “Well, if you do spend the night, go ahead and take the bed. The extra blankets are in the usual place.”

Davey sets down the spoon he’s holding, crossing his arms across his chest. “Jack,” he says warningly.

“Davey,” Jack echoes back in the exact same tone of voice. In the background there’s the faint sound of Tony muttering, “Jesus, not this again.”

“Jack, I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed,” Davey says, rehashing the same old argument for what feels like the millionth time. “I’m perfectly fine taking the couch.”

“Or you could do the smart thing and just take the bed,” Jack counters as he always does. “I’m not even gonna be here to use it.”

“You’ll want an actual mattress when you get home, especially if you’re out late.” Davey argues. “I don’t even have class tomorrow, it’ll be fine.”

“If you don’t take the bed I’ll just carry you in there once I get back,” Jack says, as if that's a perfectly reasonable course of action. “So you might as well save me the trouble.”

Davey sputters. “That’s not— You can’t just— That only happened a couple of times!” he finally gets out.

"Well, actually, it's been more like four or five times," Jack says with a smirk. "But hey, who's counting?"

"That trick won't keep working," Davey grumbles, feeling the back of his neck start to heat up.

“You sleep like a fucking rock, Dave,” Jack says, rolling his eyes. “Why wouldn’t it keep working?”

“No, see, that’s exactly why I should take the couch,” Davey insists. “It’s not like the sound of you coming in will wake me up—”

Jack turns to face him. Davey cuts off, slightly startled—he hadn’t realized they were standing so close to each other.

“Just take the bed, Davey,” Jack all but orders, and those dark eyes with that low voice are a heady combination. “Please?”

Davey bites at his lower lip, suddenly flustered. “Fine,” he reluctantly concedes, hoping Jack will attribute his flushed face to the heat of the kitchen. “Just this once.”

"Thank you," Jack says with a dramatic heave of his chest, looking much too pleased with himself. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You're letting the garlic bread burn," Davey answers tartly.

"Oh shit—!"

00000

Later that evening, after they’ve all finished eating and have cleaned up, Davey, Tony, and Charlie are still gathered around the table, working on various assignments.

Davey is finishing the readings for his Monday lecture in between helping Tony finalize the exact wording of his essay. Charlie sits opposite him, working through his geometry homework and every so often there’s a huff of breath and the rubbery scratch of an eraser—Davey makes a mental note to swipe some more pencils and notebook paper from the grad lounge when he’s there next.

Davey notices the time and frowns. “Jack,” he calls out, “it’s already 7:30. If you don’t leave soon you’re gonna be late for work.”

There’s a clamor of noise from down the hall, then Jack appears, freshly showered and fumbling to put on his socks and button up a clean shirt at the same time.

“Fuck, Johnson is gonna kill me,” Jack grumbles. He pats down his pockets, then groans. “Christ, has anyone seen my—”

“Your wallet and keys are on the counter by the microwave,” Davey says, pointing. “And take a jacket, it’s supposed to rain later.”

“Great, I’m sure the models will love that,” Jack says with a groan. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get through everything without getting rained out.”

He meanders his way over to the table, peering at Charlie’s homework from over his shoulder. “If Tony is still busy and ya get stuck, text me,” Jack tells him. “I probably won't be able to answer right away, but if ya send me a picture of the problem I can probably talk ya through it between shots.”

Charlie hums his acknowledgment, still scribbling furiously. Jack turns to Tony.

“Listen to whatever Davey tells you about your paper,” he advises. “The only reason I got through undergraduate writing was ‘cause Davey proofread all my shit before I turned it in.”

“I thought I was s’pposed to always listen to Davey,” Tony says distractedly, tongue poking out between his teeth as he types.

Jack pauses, considering. “Yeah, just do that.”

“Jack—”

“Oh, and Dave cooked, so you shitheads better do the dishes, get me?”

“Jack, you’re gonna be late,” Davey cuts in firmly, holding out Jack’s jacket for him.

“Alright, I’m going,” Jack says, shrugging it on, and he finally starts making moves towards the door.

He gives Charlie one last pat on the shoulder and cuffs Tony lightly across the back of the head in a slightly rougher, but no less affectionate goodbye, which is per usual. Then he turns to Davey, tips his chin up, and kisses him right on the mouth, short and sweet.

“Lock the door behind me and don’t forget to—” Jack stops mid-sentence, then turns bright red.

“Um,” says Charlie.

“Holy shit,” says Tony.

Jack’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly. Finally, he stammers out, “I u-uh— I-I d-didn’t mean—“

Davey doesn’t respond. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to—he’s frozen in place, his mind a sudden wash of static. For a moment, they just stare at each other. Then Jack blurts, “gottagoseeyoulaterbye,” and bolts out the front door.

Davey’s not sure how long he stands there, staring blankly into space, utterly dumbfounded.

“Davey?” Charlie asks hesitantly. “Are you okay?”

There’s a strangled, choking noise. A split second later, Davey realizes it’s coming from him.

"...What just happened?"

#newsies #javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs #*final cut #*the writing desk #*editor's note #the one where it's domestic #oof this was a long time coming #this au might become its own series #the javid coparenting vibes are REAL and i NEED them #btw there will be a couple more chapters of this so stay tuned

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xianglingslesbian · 4 years ago

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oh I'll give u a character alright: Izuki, Kiyoshi, Riko and Aomine <333 technically that's four, but what goes around comes around (I'll keep this circle of love goin forever buddy)

VICCCC ily my man <33 thank u!!! aight putting this under a cut bc it got long

Izuki

Why I like them: izuki’s just overall so amazing! he inspires me to give my best in the stuff i do, and although it sounds a bit silly i try to be a person that he’d be proud of. his puns are hilarious and well-thought-out (as a person who loves words and word jokes, i’m naturally drawn to him lol). they’re also a way to take the heat off the team, he’s so hardworking and never views obstacles as obstacles, rather as hills he must climb to find newer skies. he’s also rather clever and employs his brains to great effect when his body fails him! izuki embodies the meaning of ‘eagle’ in the truest sense - waiting to strike when the time is right and not failing when it is.

Why I don’t: *sweats* can’t really think of a reason i don’t like izuki, at all??? i guess he can overwork himself a lot and tends to keep his true emotions hidden which could lead to misunderstandings between friends (although this is totally headcanon territory lol)... i also didn’t like the ableist comment he passed on hayama (“i’m just glad you weren’t smarter than me”). but i think he can (and will!) grow from that kind of stuff, he is that kind of person so yeah no particular reason for me to dislike him at all

Favorite episode (scene if movie): how dare you make me pick s3 e8 izuki vs kasamatsu, hands down. i know its like cliche or whatever but that moment just told me so much about izuki as a character? he’s willing to do what it takes to win, he’s adaptable and dependable and he doesn’t let shit get him down ever. it’s gorgeous

Favorite season/movie: s3, he got some fantastic moments in there!! although i will say i loved the spotlighting he got in s1 in the seihō match

Favorite line: “Fear isn't a bad thing. There are some things that can only be done by cowards.” this is first of all such a nice thing to say. ‘fear is not bad’ is just... so fucking wise? keep in mind that this boy is 17, i’ve met 30 year olds who are less mature. secondly it feels like izu’s speaking from experience?? like he has a lot to be scared of, i’m sure. particularly of falling behind and being a burden to his teammates. but it’s that ‘cowardice’ that drives him to practice so so hard. that visceral terror of weighing on seirin is what pushes izuki beyond his limits - which is why here he can empathise with furi’s fear, and knows how best to employ it.

Favorite outfit: look i hate last game w/ a passion but that lil tie/shirt/hoodie thing he had going? that was literally so cute. izuki in general has a p great fashion sense but his last game outfit takes the cake <3

OTP: hyuuizu oh my god i could talk for years about them but since this post is gonna be very long i’ll refrain. just. they are perfect they are fucking perfect

Brotp: kiyoizu!! kiyoshi is izuki’s biggest enabler and i love that for him <3

Head Canon: izuki can be very very passive aggressive when he’s angry at someone/sad and gets cold and withdrawn. it’s not fun to experience but tbh if you upset him you probably deserve it

Unpopular opinion: izuki should’ve been naturally better in canon. it’s not fair to shaft him and give the ‘trier’ thing off to himuro. that being said i am p happy with who he is as a person

A wish: i want to know how izuki felt after middle school! izuki’s and riko’s backstory focuses so much on hyuuga its dumb >:( he also would’ve been demoralised but he didn’t quit bball and i would like to know his thought process!

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: i. uh. i guess izu quitting basketball. because i genuinely cannot see that happening. it brings him so much joy, he should never stop cold turkey. i can imagine old man izuki hobbling about a court giving little kids pointers and making them laugh T-T

5 words to best describe them: “big brain caffeine-powered clown baby”

My nickname for them: babyzuki/izu/shunshun

Kiyoshi

Why I like them: lots of reasons! kiyoshi is an admirable person. he’s strong, yet friendly and gentle, and he loves his team above all else, which i just find beautiful. i find his manipulative side also pretty cool, bc it shows off how multifaceted he is.

Why I don’t: this is more of a fandom reason but i really dislike how kiyoshi is always said to have had the greatest impact in hyuuga’s story. he badgered and manipulated hyuuga, and while some may argue hyuuga needed that push, it only worked bc hyuuga had had time to think about shit. he’d also been given space by riko and izuki (two integral parts of his life whom the fandom looooves to sideline for uwu kiyo//hyuu).

Favorite episode (scene if movie): yousen match (can’t pick the episodes)! i loved the backstory we got for kiyo vs mura and i loved how kiyoshi was willing to smile and play but also refused to lose. he truly stole the show despite kagami being the one to finally take down murasakibara, it was gorgeous <3

Favorite season/movie: s2 for sure. kiyoshi wasn’t allowed to shine much after yousen imo - all the focus was on hyuuga kagami and kuroko, and to a lesser extent izuki. not complaining, but yeah

Favorite line: “Let’s go have some fun.” i know it’s kinda cliche but i do love how kiyoshi’s always thinking about playing a good game and enjoying basketball. he wants to play because he loves it and as someone who loves a sport as much as kiyoshi loves b-ball, that love is so poignant and tender

Favorite outfit: practice clothes! kiyoshi looks great in pink <3

OTP: kiyohana. hateshipping amirite ;)

Brotp: kiyohyuu! i love them as friends so so much <3

Head Canon: kiyoshi is half-iranian on his mother’s side and is muslim. i won’t say too much because i am not muslim myself, i need to do more research into this but i’ve had this headcanon for quite a while now!

Unpopular opinion: he should be bullied more for the fact that his canon power is having yaoi hands

A wish: kiyo finds something he loves as much as b-ball. he can’t canonically play at this level again, so if he found another sport/competition/anything, it’d be amazing

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: he should never become demoralised. kiyoshi at heart is a dreamer, so let him dream, let him look towards tomorrow with a smile always

5 words to best describe them: “useless dreamy dumbass cheerleader clown”

My nickname for them: kiyoyo, bc my feelings about him have yo-yoed a lot lmao

Riko

Why I like them: im a lesbian, next. /j i love her because she’s so tenacious and driven. yet she’s also kind and gentle, and never loses her humanity. she cares, and she cares hard. she’s so fucking smart too like... coaching a hs basketball team at 17 against players of NBA calibre and making them win? i could never. seirin without riko is nothing.

Why I don’t: i dont like the constant slapstick of her beating up her boys. also, i dislike how the narrative forces her to act ‘feminine’ and then has the boys think of it as nothing. like first of all if someone like her offered me a kiss i would so take 100, and secondly... why is a girl’s worth so tied to her femininity? it’s awful

Favorite episode (scene if movie): her sending in furi vs kaijō, early in s3. it was an exceedingly smart move that could have only come from her knowing her players’ strengths and weaknesses intimately, and being a brilliant coach. just amazing <3

Favorite season/movie: all of them! riko has some amazing moments each season, so i can’t really pick

Favorite line: “Humans grow. Don't act like you understand when you don't even realize that!” here, riko knows and knows well that she is in her element. momoi might have the data, but riko understands adaptability and knows how to predict stuff. in that way, one can draw parallels between takao vs izuki and momoi vs riko: takao and momoi are recon experts, whereas riko and izuki are strategists. momoi uses raw data; riko manipulates the data to her advantage

Favorite outfit: idk if this is exactly an outfit but her glasses are so cute oh my gosh. (i’d kill to see her in a leather jacket tho)

OTP: rikomomo!!! i’m 100% sure that momoi’s fixation w/riko’s boobs is just... repressed lesbian sentiments. also sports girlfriends gimme

Brotp: hyuuizuriko. i hc that hyuuizu were tgt since elementary school and riko joined them in middle school so... childhood friends feels!

Head Canon: riko knows how to shoot a gun. her father owns one so it makes sense

Unpopular opinion: riko does not need to have bigger boobs in fanart. please stop sexualising a 17 year old girl

A wish: white suit riko please

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: her ever leaving behind sports in any way shape or form. it’s her thing. in the same vein, she should never have to change herself or become more traditionally feminine to be ‘appealing’

5 words to best describe them: perfect perfect perfect perfect perfect

My nickname for them: ai/riri

Aomine

Why I like them: aomine is just a pure, hurting young man that deserves help. he’s passionate, and his fire died down out of no fault of his own. that fire’s reignition through kagami is one of my favorite scenes <3

Why I don’t: he’s perverted as hell and i dislike that. it plays into the ‘brutish dark-skinned pervert’ stereotype which is yikes. also i thought we were done with pervs in anime

Favorite episode (scene if movie): s2 seirin v touou when kagami enters the zone!! aomine’s finally happy and it’s so amazing to watch <3

Favorite season/movie: s2, he finally got happiness and peace of mind

Favorite line: “You’re the best!” there’s just so much of pure joy in this line. he’s so so beside himself that he finally has someone he won’t destroy. kagami sees aomine the person, and that person is so happy, it’s beautiful

Favorite outfit: the leather jacket from the finale lmaooo he looked so cute

OTP: AOKAGA BABY i could write an essay tbh

Brotp: aomomo!! theyre such good friends and bi/lesbian solidarity too!

Head Canon: aomine cannot dance. he has stepped on kagami’s feet multiple times. he has also attempted to twerk when drunk. kuroko recorded the whole thing and uses it as blackmail in case the puppy eyes and “but aomine-kun you didn’t fist bump me back” don’t work

Unpopular opinion: more a fandom thing, but you all need to stop making aomine the aggressive/possessive top/‘seme’. it’s racist as fuck

A wish: aomine goes pro. it’ll be amazing for him, a huge challenge and kagami will be there too so its a win-win ;)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: he quits again/b-ball loses its allure. aomine at heart is someone who needs passion to drive him so i just want that passion to always burn bright within him

5 words to best describe them: “bastard baby needs a hug”

My nickname for them: dai-chan, momoi rubbed off on me

#izuki #kiyoshi #riko #aomine #vee #knb #ceru babbles #answered #omg i went OFF

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