#in my life… I don’t remember ever playing a game series for that long in my life except pokemon but I don’t really go hard on pokemon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

m1ckeyb3rry · 7 months ago

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Synopsis: Despite an initial reluctance, Tabito heads off to a mysterious soccer program by the name of Blue Lock. Luckily, it’s not long before you get to see him again. Continuation of Five Ways to Kill a Crow and How to Drown a Crow!

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 16.1k

Content Warnings: spoilers for the u-20 arc of the manga, otoya slander to an unhealthy degree, reader’s best friend is crazily down bad, the bllk boys have karasu STRESSING, half of them think reader is fine af 💯, did i mention otoya slander because there is a LOT of that, 99% crackfic so don’t expect stunning characterization in this one it’s mostly silly compared to the first two parts, chigiri’s sister is also referred to as chigiri, reader & co. accidentally become famous

A/N: here is the final continuation of fwtkac that you requested karasu anon 💖 incidentally also the longest…w this installment the mini-series is over 30k words LMAOAO i hope you have enjoyed the ride because ik i have!!

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own. now closed!

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that difficult to reveal your relationship with Tabito to the rest of your friends and classmates. There wasn’t an official announcement or anything along those lines — neither of you were that big on social media, so you didn’t bother with launching each other there, and since half of the school already thought you were dating, things settled into an even rhythm quite quickly.

Tabito’s friends and teammates weren’t all-too-shocked, either. Apparently, you were just about the last person to find out about the crush he had had on you since middle school, so to everyone else, him asking you out had been all but foregone conclusion. What your respective circles were surprised about, at least at first, was that you had said yes.

You’re way too hot for him. This was what Tabito’s group said upon finding out about the news, which was met with crabbiness from Tabito and nothing more than a snort from you. They were just messing with him in any way they could, considering how difficult it typically was to find cracks in his flawless demeanor, so it was easy to dismiss. On the other hand, your own friends gave you confused looks — weren’t you just talking about how much you hate him? You could only shrug, because they weren’t wrong, exactly. You had been complaining about him only days previously, but it was funny how quickly things could change. They accepted it without much more questioning, however, congratulating you on finally getting a boyfriend, and after that life continued as it previously had, except now whenever your friend groups decided to hang out together, you would find yourself at Tabito’s side instead of as far as possible from him.

Being his official girlfriend was everything you had expected and more. He got along well with your parents — your father remembered his name and asked you how he was doing constantly, and your mother was always pleased by the steady supply of flowers he provided for your kitchen counter — as well as your friends, managing to strike that elusive balance of showing them kindness without being overly involved in their lives. His family adored you, especially his older sister, who frequently took you out shopping or for coffee, much to Tabito’s chagrin. All in all, things were going well, and though you two still competed over your grades, it was without the fervor of the past, so that you were gladder for one another’s success than you were incensed by them.

“I hate couples,” your best friend announced one day at lunch. You had finished eating early, so you were leaning against Tabito’s arm and playing Subway Surfers on his phone while he talked to one of his teammates about their upcoming match. Ever since you had discovered his penchant for the childish game, it had become a personal goal of yours to beat his high score, though you had not yet even come close.

“Hm,” you said. She scowled.

“I’m serious!” she said.

“You’re just mad because you’re single,” you said. “I told you I’m working on it, didn’t I? It’s not my fault all of Tabito’s friends are losers!”

She sighed. “I know. Actually, you two aren’t the ones that prompted me to say that this time, oddly enough.”

“Oh, then who did?” you said.

“You know how I went to visit my cousins last weekend?” she said. You nodded. “Well, we went to watch a movie while we were there, that new one I was really excited about, but somehow it ended up that we got stuck behind this guy on a date!”

“How’d you know that he was on a date?” you said.

“Because there was a girl sitting next to him, and he sucked her face off for the entire movie, thereby completely blocking the screen. Can you believe it? The worst part is, he was totally stupid looking!” she said.

“That’s annoying,” you said, secure in the knowledge that you and Tabito would never do something like that. Public displays of affection beyond hugging or holding hands weren’t really your vibe, and just the thought of making out in a movie theater caused you to feel nauseous. “How’d you know he was dumb looking, though? Wasn’t the theater dark?”

“I confronted him afterwards,” she said.

“While he was on a date? That’s a bold move,” you said. “What did the girl say?”

“Huh? Oh, she had already left. Guess she wasn’t that into him,” your best friend said.

“Yikes,” you said before pouting as your little Subway Surfers character was hit by a train. “Aw, man, I died. At this rate, I’ll never beat the high score.”

“Hey, can I have my phone for a second?” Tabito said, turning to you and plucking the device out of your hand before you could answer. You frowned, so he patted you on the head. “I’ll give it back. I just need to text our coach and remind him to bring my cooler back during the game tonight.”

“Whatever,” you said before directing your attention towards your best friend again. “Okay, describe this guy. I’m really interested in what could have driven you to judge his appearance so harshly.”

“Listen!” she said. “His hair was green!”

“Green?” you said.

“Yes! Well, mostly it was a grayish white, but there was a green streak, and the undercut part was also green,” she said. You tried to picture it and found you were entirely incapable of imagining anything but the most ridiculous of styles.

“That’s wild,” you said. “Who told him that was a good idea?”

“I just wonder how much bleach he has to use to get it to be that color,” she said. You shuddered.

“I know for a fact that he had the most damaged, dead, crunchy-looking hair ever,” you said. Your best friend shook her head.

“It was actually pretty shiny and luscious,” she said. “If it weren’t for the weird choice of color and his terrible theater etiquette, I could see why someone might consider him attractive.”

“Maybe you can fix him,” you suggested. She immediately scowled in a clear-cut refusal.

“The main thing I’ve learned from your relationship with Karasu is that you can never fix a man’s hair, no matter how much he likes you,” she said.

“Huh? Did you say my name?” Tabito said, handing you his phone back. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you and your best friend said in unison.

“That was suspicious,” he informed you.

“Just know that I’ll break up with you if you ever dye even a strand of your hair green,” you said.

He gave you an odd look. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Anyways, that’s my rant for the day,” your best friend said as Tabito evidently decided it would be for the best to leave you to your own conversation, which he was missing far too much context from to possibly understand.

“That really is awful,” you said. “Don’t worry. Someday soon, we’ll find you someone to date, and then you can be the annoying couple everyone slanders. Trust me on that one.”

“I do,” she said. “I have faith that you’re just being picky because you love me so much that you refuse to let me be with a substandard man.”

“Exactly,” you said.

She made a heart with her hands. “You’re the best.”

“I try!”

Now that autumn was bleeding into winter, it was getting chillier and chillier out during Bambi Osaka’s games. Thankfully, Tabito had draped his large jacket over your shoulders before running off to yell at his coach for once again forgetting to bring his cooler back, so you were mostly protected from the frost in the air. You could not say the same for the Bambi Osaka boys, who all looked miserably cold as they jogged in place, trying to warm up in their shorts and jerseys while Tabito and the coach argued.

“Y/N! I didn’t realize you were coming today!” a familiar voice said, its owner leaning over the fence separating the bleachers from the field. You extended your hand to ruffle his hair.

“I come to all of your games, Hiori, why would this one be any different?” you said. He gave you a sheepish grin.

“I know, but now that’s it not as nice out, I thought you might not,” he said. You pulled on the sleeve of your jacket to draw attention to it; Hiori grunted in approval when he noticed.

“Don’t worry, Tabito’s on top of it. Just between us two, I think he would cry if I had to miss one of his games, so he always makes sure I’m as comfortable as possible when I come,” you said.

“He’s a really considerate guy,” Hiori said. As if on cue, both of you turned to look at where he and their coach were still going at it.

“Holy fucking shit!” Tabito screamed. “Give me my cooler back, dude, you’ve had it for weeks!”

“I need it for the party I’m throwing this Saturday!” their coach shouted back.

“I don’t give a damn about your party! Give me back my cooler!”

“Right,” you said, stifling a laugh. “Super considerate.”

Hiori cringed. “I guess nobody’s perfect.”

Ever since you had started dating Tabito, Hiori had become something of a permanent fixture in your life. He never tried to flirt with you or anything — you didn’t even think he was capable of having those feelings — but he was just so used to trailing after Tabito that, by extension, he began to follow you around as well. It wasn’t really that bad; you both lived close to one another, and frequently he’d ask you to come to the convenience store with him so he could ask you for advice under the guise of buying snacks together. You always went along with it, as you sensed he didn’t have many other sources of reliable help and wisdom.

For his part, Tabito didn’t really mind that Hiori’s attachment to him now included you. The thought of being jealous of the younger boy never even crossed his mind, mostly because he, too, didn’t really believe that the gentle and benign Hiori was capable of anything as underhanded as stealing his girlfriend. Overall, he was more bemused than anything, treating him with the careful fondness of someone who had been given a puppy they had no idea how to care for but found cute anyways.

Soon enough, Tabito joined you and Hiori, dragging his feet and hanging his head as he flopped against the fence. Exhaling, you reached out and stroked the side of his face with the back of your hand.

“Any success?” you said.

“Nope,” he said. “Another week without my cooler.”

“At least it’s getting to be winter,” Hiori said. “You won’t really need it to keep your drinks chilled for a while, right?”

“Tell that to my sister,” Tabito said. “She keeps bugging me about where I put it. I guess she needs it for college or something. Don’t ask me why.”

“I’m sure he’ll bring it to the next game,” Hiori said optimistically. Tabito let out a defeated sigh.

“We can only hope,” he said.

“In the meantime, you two should go over with the rest of your team before you both get yelled at for slacking off and get me banned from coming to anymore games,” you said.

“If he keeps holding my cooler hostage and bans you from games, I’ll fight that dumbass coach!” Tabito said. You pushed him away affectionately.

“Alright, alright, I feel very comforted by that. Thank you for defending my — and your cooler’s — honor,” you said. “Go play soccer.”

With a joking salute, Tabito, and also Hiori, ran off to join the rest of their team, and you settled back to sit with the rest of the attendees of the game, who were mostly parents of the players. All of them knew who you were at this point, though, so you were welcomed with open arms, easily joining in on their discussions about such subjects as how their children were doing in school and what their plans for dinner were.

It was a comfortable existence, and as you pulled Tabito’s jacket tighter around you, you thought that you could get used to it. If only things could stay exactly like this, you would be quite happy. If you could spend every day with Tabito and Hiori and the rest of your friends, you would never complain again.

Unfortunately, life was always changing, as you knew all too well. One day, both Tabito and Hiori received letters summoning them to some soccer training camp far away from your corner of the country, and though Hiori leapt at the chance, Tabito was initially uncertain at the prospect of leaving everything behind for a program that wasn’t even a sure thing.

“What if it doesn’t help me and I give up my schooling for it?” he said, pacing around his bedroom. You raised your eyebrows at him from your seat at his desk, where you were working on a lab report for Chemistry. “Do they really expect me to run there during my last year of high school? What about board exams and college? How am I supposed to get into a good university if I’m playing soccer when I should be studying?”

“Why do you think you won’t succeed in the program?” you said. “You’re amazing at soccer. If you join, you’ll definitely do well, and then you’ll become a professional athlete, so you won’t have to worry about college or anything like that.”

“Of course I’ll do well,” he said. This actually wasn’t anything like his normal self-confidence; when he was in this kind of mood, he didn’t brag, he only evaluated himself and the situation honestly, weighing the costs and benefits until he could come to a conclusion that he was satisfied with. “I just don’t like the thought of not having a fallback option. Even if I become a professional athlete, things like injuries can happen to anyone. It’s not smart to not have a backup plan. That’s why I wasn’t planning on trying out for the U-20 squad until after I got accepted to a university.”

“You can’t give up on your dreams for the sake of a backup plan, though,” you said, finishing up the report and clicking the submit button, shutting your laptop and spinning the chair around so you were looking at him. “I know it’s nerve-wracking, but isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?”

“No,” he said bluntly.

Blue Lock and its outcomes were like the water — entirely out of Tabito’s control, and hence something he was automatically opposed to. But unlike swimming and wading, this was also an opportunity for him to pursue his greatest dreams, so you stood and grabbed him by the shoulders. He halted in his tracks, cocking his head at you as you clasped his hands in between your own and gave him the sternest look you could muster.

“Listen to me,” you said. “You are not going to drown. You’re not because I say you’re not, and have I ever led you astray? You’re going to go to this Blue Lock place with Hiori, and then the two of you are going to come back and be so good at soccer that you immediately join the national team and end up so rich and famous that I can’t help but marry you and become your trophy wife.”

“When you say you, you’re referring to me, not Hiori, right?” he checked with a snicker. You poked him in the chest.

“Obviously,” you said.

“Do you really think it’ll be okay?” he said.

“I think you won’t know if you don’t try. You’re so smart, Tabito; even if you somehow fail as a soccer player, I don’t think you’ll be unable to go to college. In fact, you could probably do this camp, come back and take your exams while on a break, and still get second in our class,” you said.

“Second?” he said.

“Of course, I’ll be the one getting first,” you said. “Second is still respectable, though. Any university of note would kill to have you, but a chance to improve your soccer career like this might not come around again for a while, if ever. Take it. Take it with both hands and don’t regret it a bit, okay?”

“You’re convincing,” he said, embracing you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Thank you.”

“So you’ll do it?” you said.

“I’ll do it.”

A week later, he was gone. Even his phone was taken away, leaving you without any manner of contacting him in the meantime. To be sure, it was lonely, but you were too busy being proud of him to be depressed about it. Besides, you weren’t the type to abandon your friends just because you were in a relationship, so your invitations to events had never stopped coming. Now, you just said yes to them more often, much to everyone’s excitement.

That was what you did while Tabito was busy at Blue Lock: you hung out with your friends, having sleepovers and going for platonic dates with the ones you were particularly close with, and you visited his sister at her college when she was free, so you could hear embarrassing stories about his past, which you carefully filed away for later use. Occasionally, you even met up with Yukimiya’s girlfriend — in a shocking twist, he had also been invited to Blue Lock, much like Tabito — and the two of you would speculate about what your boyfriends might be up to in that strange facility and whether they might’ve met each other yet or not.

It wasn’t horrible. Undeniably, you missed him, but it was bearable, and you knew he would be back as soon as he could be, so for the most part, you didn’t let yourself grow too sad. Your father was probably the worst off out of anyone, actually, always nagging you about when Tabito would return. He had grown used to having a friend to watch sports alongside, and was now entirely forlorn without any company to discuss his beloved games with.

Some weeks after Blue Lock began, you received two emails with nearly identical subject headers. With a confused frown, you opened both of them in turn, but slowly, your expression turned to a smile as you read over their contents.

Congratulations, Y/N L/N! Blue Lock 11 player number 6, Tabito Karasu, has designated you as the recipient of his friends/family ticket to the Blue Lock 11 vs Japan U-20 match! Scan the attached QR code upon your arrival to the stadium in order to make your way to your VIP seat.

Congratulations, Y/N L/N! Blue Lock 11 substitute number 16, Yo Hiori, has designated you as the recipient of his friends/family ticket to the Blue Lock 11 vs Japan U-20 match! Scan the attached QR code upon your arrival to the stadium in order to make your way to your VIP seat.

Both Tabito and Hiori had chosen to give you their seats, which meant you technically had an extra one, so you could bring someone along with you. Your first thought was your father, considering how much he loved soccer, but then you pondered it further and decided that you probably did not want to spend the whole match listening to him explaining the rules. Plus, the game was in Tokyo, so if the two of you went together, you both would have to share a hotel room, and he’d make you spend the entire trip with him instead of exploring and possibly seeing Tabito, if you got the chance.

No, there was really only one choice. With an aunt who lived in the city and a deep-rooted desire to get a boyfriend, your best friend was the clear pick to take along with you to the game, and you knew before you even asked that she would agree to it. After all, what better way was there for you both to spend the two weeks of your last winter break before university?

As you had expected, she agreed enthusiastically and readily, texting you that her aunt was alright with you two staying at her place, as long as you didn’t mind that she’d probably be busy with work most of the time. Of course, this was more of a benefit than a drawback, so you forwarded the email containing Hiori’s invitation to her and immediately began the process of packing for your two week vacation.

Since you would be staying with a responsible adult — meaning your best friend’s aunt, not her herself — your parents didn’t mind that you were going on a mini-trip without them. Your father already knew about the game thanks to his subscription to the JFU’s magazine, and he was so exhilarated at the thought of you getting to attend it in person that you almost felt bad not telling him that he could’ve come, too. Then you imagined having to sleep in a twin bed while he snored in the one across from you and stopped feeling guilty entirely.

“Do you think it would be corny if I wore blue to the game?” you said when the day of the match dawned. You had made a mess of your suitcase trying to decide what you wanted to wear, and when you looked over at your best friend’s side of the room, you noticed that it was in a similar state.

“Maybe a little bit,” she said. “At least, if you went for an all-blue Smurf aesthetic. It would kind of make you look like a mascot or something.”

“I was thinking about that,” you said. “Ugh! This is so hard. Normally, I just wear one of Tabito’s jackets or extra jerseys at his games, so that I look all supportive and whatnot, but it’s kind of hard to do that when I haven’t even spoken to him in weeks and have zero clue what his Blue Lock jersey looks like.”

“That one coat you brought is his, right? You could wear that with a blue shirt underneath it so that it’s subtle but still clear which side you’re on,” she suggested. You closed your eyes, mentally putting the clothes on and deciding that it was a great outfit idea, giving off the exact effect you were aiming for.

“I knew ‘Hiori’ invited you for a reason,” you said. She chucked a pillow at you, fully aware that she was only even going to the game because you had been invited by both Bambi Osaka boys.

“I’ll be sure to thank him when I see him,” she said.

“Do you know what he looks like?” you said.

“No, but won’t his jersey say his name?” she reasoned.

“Touché,” you said. “Anyways, what are you going to wear?”

“It needs to be something casual but also cute, so if any of the players — the single ones, anyways — happen to look up at me, they are instantly smitten and ask me for my number once they win the game, after which we date until I’ve graduated college and they’ve made it in the big leagues, whereupon they will propose to me and we will get married in the most extravagant wedding the world has ever seen,” she said.

“Um,” you said, your mind working overtime to comprehend the run-on. “Sure. In that case, maybe you should go with the sweater dress you brought. It’s not blue, but you look really pretty in it, and if you put on a longer cardigan along with some tights, you should stay warm. Maybe your aunt has a blue scarf you can borrow? If you want to look spirited.”

“You’re a genius!” she said.

“Thanks, I do my best,” you said before a silence lapsed between the two of you, both too busy getting ready to gossip, as you had been non-stop since you had arrived in Tokyo.

The ticket scanner definitely looked suspicious at the fact that both of you claimed to be named Y/N L/N, but there was nothing that she could do about it. After all, you both had unique invitations from two separate members of Blue Lock, so what did it matter what your names were? With a curt nod, she approved your tickets and described which way you had to go to get to your seats, though you were certain she was glaring at you as you walked in the direction she had indicated.

“Are you excited?” your best friend said, rubbing her hands together to warm them up.

“I’m more excited to see Tabito again than anything. No matter how the game goes, I’m happy if he’s there,” you said.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” she said. “Pining has made you a changed woman. The Y/N I once knew would never say anything along those lines.”

“Oh, but you can plan your wedding and it’s perfectly normal?” you said, raising your eyebrows. She gave you a double-thumbs-up.

“That’s all hypothetical, so it’s not an issue,” she said. “On the other hand, you being all sappy about Karasu is reality.”

“You have a point,” you said. “My apologies. Moving on, are you excited?”

“Just to see if the players are good looking,” she said. “I don’t know that much about soccer.”

“It’s okay, I don’t, either,” you said.

“Your boyfriend is literally on the team?” she said.

“Look, as long as someone on our side kicks the ball into the net, I’m happy,” you said. “If someone on the other side kicks the ball into the net, then I’m sad. That’s kind of the gist of it. Tabito and Hiori have tried explaining the finer details of the sport, but to be honest, it’s a bit beyond me.”

“Excuse me, but is anyone sitting with you two?” a bright voice said. You looked up to see a tall girl with cascading red hair and a brilliant grin pointing at the seat on your left with a questioning tilt to her head.

“Nope,” you said. Unfortunately, Yukimiya’s girlfriend’s school break didn’t align with the game, and she had regretfully told you over the phone that she would be unable to make it, so you and your best friend were on your own. “All yours!”

“Thanks!” she said. “My mother went to go sit with the other parents, and I was planning on going with her, but you two look closer to my age, so I was hoping it would be alright if I stayed here instead.”

“Believe me, I get it,” you said. “I’ve had to hang out with way too many parents at Tabito’s games. They’re nice and all, but most of the stuff they talk about is hardly relatable.”

“Exactly!” she said. “I can’t explain how happy I am to have found you two. I’m Hyoma Chigiri’s sister, by the way! According to the email we got, he’s number 4. Which players do you both know?”

“I’m number 6’s girlfriend,” you said, motioning down towards where the players were beginning to enter the field, getting some last-minute practice in before the game. “Tabito Karasu.”

You wished he would look over so you could wave at him, but he was utterly focused on his teammates and their warm up, so you contented yourself with admiring him from afar. It was clear to anyone that he was in his element, and a lump formed in your throat when you remembered that he had almost given this up. He had almost stayed back, and you could not even begin to fathom how much he would have regretted it if he had.

“I see him!” Chigiri said, shading her eyes with her hand so she didn’t have to narrow them against the sun. “My brother’s right over by where he is.”

Her brother was almost identical to her, a lean boy with flowing hair and a pointed face, and even if she hadn’t pointed him out, you would’ve made the connection.

“He looks just like you,” your best friend said, vocalizing what you had been thinking.

“We get that a lot,” Chigiri said. “What about you? Who are you with?”

“Technically, I’m not with anyone,” your best friend said. “The thing is, both Karasu and number 16, Yo Hiori, invited Y/N, so I just took her extra — what the fuck.”

“Is everything okay?” you said. Both you and Chigiri shot her concerned looks, but she was too busy staring at the field with her jaw dropped to pick up on it. “Hello? What’s gotten into you?”

“Y/N L/N,” she said. “Why is your boyfriend talking to that — that — that creature? Why is that thing even on the field in the first place?”

“Number 9?” Chigiri said. “Do you know him?”

True to her word, Tabito was speaking animatedly to player number 9, who according to his jersey was named Otoya. He was a slender and clearly handsome boy, his pale hair streaked through with green and his features distinctly sharp despite the distance. For some reason, there was something familiar about his description, and it was only when you noticed that your best friend was all but seething that the conversation came back to you.

“Are you serious?” you said. “That Otoya dude is the theater guy?”

“Deadly serious,” she snapped. “What is he doing here? Shouldn’t he be off ruining innocent moviegoers’ experiences?”

“Playing soccer, I’d expect,” you said. “It looks like he’s starting for the Blue Lock 11, too. He must be good — I mean, even Hiori is just a substitute, and he’s crazy talented, so their starting lineup must be nothing short of spectacular.”

The two teams got into position as the clock was set up, and a hush fell over the stadium as the ball was brought onto the field for the kickoff. Unexpectedly, Chigiri grabbed your hand, clutching it so tightly that your circulation was impaired, and when you glanced over at her, you saw that her shoulders were tense.

“Hyoma tore his ACL recently,” she murmured. “He never said it aloud, but I think he’s wanted to quit soccer ever since. This is the first time he’s starting in a game since before he was injured. I’m worried it’ll happen again.”

You rubbed soothing circles against her wrist. “He’ll be alright. I don’t think they would put him in if it was a health risk. Plus, they have substitutes, and I’m sure he’s much more in-tune with his body now, so the second he feels something off, he’ll probably ask to be put out.”

Chigiri dabbed at her face. “Thanks. You’re right. This is an exciting game! I shouldn’t bring down the mood. Let’s get ready to cheer our lungs out!”

The referee blew the whistle, and then the match was on. You could hardly keep up with the players’ movements, so fast was it all; this was a level of skill that even you could recognize was far above anything you had ever seen. Every single player on the pitch was at least on Tabito and Hiori’s level, if not above it. Unlike Bambi Osaka, where Tabito was the captain of the team and often had to play doubly as aggressively because of that, he blended right into the mix of talents that was this motley collection of high school forwards. You could tell even from so far away that this thrilled him instead of grating on his nerves; he wasn’t the kind of person who craved the spotlight, after all. If anything, it was something he shied away from, preferring to strike at his opponent’s weak points from the dark, and it was only here, with the rest of the Blue Lock 11, that he could finally play how he preferred.

When the first goal on Blue Lock’s side was scored, by the tall, pale-haired number 7, you, your best friend, and Chigiri shot to your feet, screaming and clapping as loud as you could. Your enthusiasm, which was a stark contrast to everyone else’s quiet confusion, sparked a tidal wave. The entire stadium resounded with a roar of approval as the number 7 — Nagi — crashed to the ground before raising his fist, getting tackled by his teammates directly afterwards in celebration.

“That was amazing!” your best friend said as everyone settled for the restart. “I never realized that soccer could be so exciting to watch.”

“That guy is skilled,” you agreed. “So is everyone else. Including that Otoya—”

“Don’t even mention him!” she said. “Nagi’s the one who scored, so stick to praising him!”

“Hyoma’s doing so well!” Chigiri said, her cheeks pink from the cold and round from her grin. “I can’t believe it. It’s like he was never hurt at all!”

“Honestly, this is way more intense than I expected,” your best friend said, hugging herself tightly. “I really hope they manage to win.”

“They will,” you said. “I’m confident of that.”

Maybe the Blue Lock 11 were the underdogs, but something told you that they were going to win. There was just this fire to them, a heat and a hatred that emanated off of only their side of the field. The docile U-20 boys, who were so dependent on the efforts of defender Aiku and midfielder Sae, could never hope to compete with that overwhelming energy, which was so potent that the bleachers themselves were washed in it.

That was why you weren’t even surprised when number 10, Rin, scored another goal right before half-time, ending the first half with a lead for Blue Lock. You knew for a fact that your voice would be hoarse the next day from how much you were shouting, but based on your best friend’s and Chigiri’s faces, you figured you were in good company and didn’t even take any measures to lessen the severity of the consequence.

As the players began to move towards their respective locker rooms, Chigiri stood up and began to wave her hands frantically.

“Hyoma! Over here!” she called out. Her brother paused in the middle of drinking from his water bottle, whipping around, his face turning the same shade as his hair when he noticed his sister, who pulled out her phone and took a picture of him. “He noticed me! Ah, hello, Hyoma! You’re doing awesome!”

Tabito and Otoya walked past where the younger Chigiri was frozen in place, and before they could vanish into the locker room and out of your sight, you cupped your hands around your mouth.

“Tabito!” you said. He stopped in his tracks before twisting back to face you, his face breaking into such a wide grin when he saw you that it was a wonder his face did not ache from it. He raised his hand in greeting, and you did the same, so relieved to see him again that you thought you might vomit from the giddiness.

Beside you, your best friend stood, drawing herself to her full height. Then, before you could stop her, she jabbed her finger towards Otoya, who had remained at Karasu’s side when he had stopped to greet you. Otoya turned his head this way and that before pointing at himself hesitantly. Your best friend nodded and then stuck up her middle finger at him, causing Tabito to burst into a fit of laughter, his shoulders shaking as he dragged the helpless Otoya away from where he was suddenly rooted to the ground in perplexity.

“That’s what he gets,” she said with satisfaction, sitting back down now that she had accomplished her mission.

“He probably has no idea who you are,” you said, giggling to yourself, finding great entertainment in the one-sided feud she had with Otoya, who appeared to be a great friend of Tabito’s. “Also, you described him horribly back then. He’s really pretty good-looking, and the hair is nowhere near as bad as you made it sound.”

“I’m telling Karasu you said that,” she said. “If I was him, I’d be offended! My beloved girlfriend finds a guy who appears to be fresh out of the swamp attractive? That would really make me insecure.”

“I don’t find him attractive, I just said that he’s good looking. It’s objective,” you said. “And fresh out of the swamp? Aren’t you being a little harsh?”

She glared at you. “No way. He owes me the price of the ticket he made me waste, but since he obviously isn’t going to pay me back, I’m going to make as much fun of him as possible.”

“You do that,” you said, judging that there was no arguing with her. “Chigiri, do you want any snacks? I’m going to head to the concession stands while there’s a break.”

“Could you get me some fries? I’ll send you the money,” she said.

“As long as you save my seat,” you said.

“Of course! Go quickly, I’m sure the lines are going to be long. There’s a lot of people here,” she said.

“Good idea,” you said, racing off and cutting through the crowds swarming the many concession stands so that you could get some fries for her, candy for your best friend, and chips for yourself.

The second half was even more exciting than the first, though you hadn’t previously thought that that was possible. A boy named Shidou, who had something like a current crackling through him, joined the U-20s as their striker, and in quick succession, he managed to not only tie up the score but actually get a lead, thereby undoing all of the work that Nagi and Rin had put in. To make things worse, right after Shidou’s first goal, Hyoma Chigiri collapsed, earning a gasp from his sister as she shoved a fistful of fries in her mouth. Simultaneously, one of their defenders, the number 3, stumbled before slumping over entirely

“It looks like a cramp,” you reassured Chigiri as one of the other players helped her brother stretch out his leg and then stand. “And I think Niko must’ve sprained his ankle during that earlier play. They’re going to have to put in alternates, but it’s not serious. Both of them just need some rest and they’ll be okay.”

“If you say so,” she said, biting her lip.

“No way, is that Reo Mikage?” your best friend said, her eyes wide as a tall, well-built boy took Niko’s place on the field. He had purple hair tied back in a messy ponytail, and a desperate sort of anger simmered beneath his serene exterior. You squinted and found she was right — the name Reo was indeed written above the large number 14 on his back.

“Like the corporate heir?” you said. Everyone who was anyone knew about the Mikages, but what business did the son have playing soccer? Then again, you supposed even the wealthiest people in the world had to have hobbies. Maybe soccer was just what filled the void for him. You supposed you couldn’t really comment either way.

“I’m sure of it!” your best friend said. “Oh, man, Y/N, he’s even more gorgeous in person…do you think Karasu knows him? Can I get an introduction? He’s so dreamy and perfect and amazing and unreal!”

“I can ask. I’m sure they’re at least acquainted, considering they’re playing on the same team — wait! Look, it’s Hiori! Oh my goodness, it’s Hiori! Yay, yay, Hiori! You’ve got this!” you squealed, pointing at him insistently. He was the one going in for Chigiri, and though he seemed solemn, you knew he must be nothing less than agitated at the moment. You willed him to glance up at you, and whether it was divine intervention or just a coincidence, he happened to shift towards your direction and thus made direct eye contact with you.

Immediately, any gloominess dropped from his shoulders, and you showed him your fingers, which were crossed for luck. He mimicked the gesture before running out to the field, where Otoya patted him on the back in greeting.

“Somebody save that poor, innocent boy,” your best friend said as the game began again.

“Hiori? From what?” you said.

“From being corrupted and turned into a bad-mannered asshole by Otoya,” she said.

“Fair enough,” you said before your jaw dropped as Reo Mikage perfectly mimicked Aiku’s signature defensive move, stopping Shidou from scoring yet again. “Woah. Reo’s rich and a soccer genius? I thought you were full of bullshit earlier, but you actually might be onto something.”

“Exactly,” your best friend said with a smitten sigh. “What a man.”

Despite Reo’s prowess and the goalie’s unorthodox methods, they were ultimately unable to stop Shidou from making that second goal. As the U-20 boys celebrated and the referee called for the ball to be retrieved, Blue Lock’s number 11, Isagi, stomped over to the sideline where their coach was sitting.

“They look like they’re arguing,” Chigiri said. “Do you think everything is alright?”

You weren’t sure when or how you had become the designated soccer expert, but for some reason, both Chigiri and your best friend looked at you expectantly, like you knew what the hell Isagi was pressed about.

“Maybe he’s mad about his cooler?” you said.

“Huh?” your best friend said.

“Never mind,” you said. “Uh, if I had to guess, he’s probably either asking the coach to give them a new strategy or calling for their substitute to be put in. Shidou and Sae have backed them into a corner, and if they don’t switch things up soon, they’re going to lose.”

“Looks like Karasu and Hiori taught you more than you realized,” your best friend said as Isagi jogged back to the field and the referee whistled to call for a pause to the game. One of the benched Blue Lock members, their number 13, stood up, and you actually shivered when he did. He made every single other player look like a gentle kitten in comparison to his hulking presence, even those towering monsters like Shidou and Aiku. There was no doubt about it; this was a beast amongst men, his fangs bared as he stormed onto the field, and the only thing you could not understand was why he had not been playing from the start.

“That guy is scary,” you said.

“Scary hot,” my best friend said.

“Moving on from Reo already?” you said. “This is why you’ll never have a boyfriend. Too fickle.”

“Listen, I have to keep my options open! Not everyone is lucky enough to have someone who’s good-looking, talented, and has been obsessed with them for years,” she said, elbowing you in the side with a smirk. You rolled your eyes, though you could not help but look down at Tabito when she said that. “What if I get rejected by Reo? I need to have another option, or else I’m fresh out of luck.”

“Looks like he’s replacing Otoya,” you said. “What’s his name? Barou? I’m interested to see how he does.”

“He’s getting rid of that wannabe bog monster? Even better! He’s quickly shooting up in my rankings,” my best friend said.

“Wannabe — okay, I’ll just be happy for you,” you said. “Though his hair isn’t so green as to deserve this much slander…”

“Thanks,” she said, ignoring the rest of what you had said.

“I hope they can make a comeback,” Chigiri stressed. “It’ll crush Hyoma if they lose.”

“No matter what happens now, he should be proud of how he did in the match,” you said. “Pass that message along when you see him, please. There’s no way he’s not going to get scouted by some seriously great clubs in the future.”

“You’re really kind,” Chigiri said, leaning her head on your shoulder with a sniffle. “I hope that Hyoma and your boyfriend stay on the same team for a while. Watching games is so much more fun with you.”

“Thanks! You as well. But speaking of being on the same team…” You whipped out your phone during the lull of the match, pulling up Yukimiya’s girlfriend’s contact and typing out a quick text.

‘are you watching the game??’

She responded almost immediately. ‘i convinced my parents to let me skip school so i could lol. i’m so stressed out right now!! karasu is playing super well btw.’

‘so is yukimiya!!’

‘thx!! omg also i saw you and your best friend on the screen HAHA.’

The last text was startling, to say the least. Nudging your best friend, you showed her the message, after which she took out her own phone, flipped on the camera, and checked her appearance in it.

‘no way. when??’

‘YES it was right after nagi scored in the first half. you two + the redhead were the ones who started the cheering, so they focused on you guys at first!! dw you all looked rlly pretty. as usual <3’

‘ohhh that makes sense. and tyyyy but you’re the pretty one here!!’

‘STOP you are the sweetest. also look at this LMAO they’re already making edits of you guys!!’

‘WHAT?!?!?!’

She sent you a link, which you opened with trepidation, beckoning Chigiri and your best friend over. Turning up the volume, you held up your phone as an edit of the three of you at various points in the match began to play. You were equally impressed and horrified at the speed with which the editors had gotten to work, but you couldn’t even be upset — whether it was the song or the clips they had chosen, the video made you all look magnificent. You saved it to your folder and then put your phone away, vowing to go through the comments later.

Mere minutes after you all tuned back into the flow of the game, Barou somehow pulled off a near-miraculous sliding shot, slamming the ball into the goal and once again tying back the score. This time, nobody was uncertain about what to do; every single person was on their feet, whooping as Barou tore off his jersey and tossed it in the air, flexing his arms and raising his chin as Tabito wrapped an arm around his neck, Nagi jumped on his back, and Isagi clapped him on the shoulder.

“Wow,” your best friend said.

“Wow is right! That was an incredible play. Barou is in another realm entirely!” you said, your palms stinging from how hard you were slapping them together. Your rudimentary soccer knowledge was apparently sufficient enough for you to keep up with the game, though just barely.

“Oh, I don’t know enough about soccer to be in awe of his goal,” she said. “I’m talking about those wow muscles of his. I bet he could carry me with one arm…”

“Ew, nasty,” you said, smacking her, fully aware of where her thoughts had just gone.

“Come on, you know it’s true!” she protested.

“I have a boyfriend. I’m not allowed to answer that,” you said.

“But you’re allowed to say that Otoya is good-looking?” she said.

“That was just me being nice!” you said.

“I sense favoritism,” she said. “And not even the good kind, because for some reason, you’re favoring the worst guy in the bunch! Since Karasu isn’t around to be disappointed in you, I’ll do it on his behalf.”

“Shut up,” you said half-heartedly. “I liked you better when you were in love with Reo.”

“Believe me, I still am,” she said. “He’s not the kind of person you get over easily.”

“Ah, and remind me of how many times you’ve spoken to him?”

“That’s not the point!”

The match was decided when Sae and Rin — who were supposedly brothers, according to the guys Chigiri had overheard while she was heading to the trash can — got into a fight for dominance over the ball. Somehow, it managed to end up in exactly the spot where Isagi was waiting, and without taking a moment to think, he drew his leg back. At the very last second of the game’s overtime, he sent it streaking into the net.

“They did it!” Chigiri shrieked, tackling you and your best friend in a hug.

“They did!” you shrieked back, equally as overwhelmed.

“I can’t believe it!” your best friend said. “They really pulled it off!”

With that one-goal lead, Blue Lock had managed it. They had won the game against the U-20s, thereby cementing their place in the world of soccer for good. Those whispered hopes that Tabito had shared with you, his dreams of being an athlete and playing the sport he loved…they were as you had always assured him: inevitabilities instead of impossibilities.

After all, you would say to him, over and over until you were sure he believed you. Do you think I would spend so long hating someone if they were mediocre? You can do whatever you turn your mind to. Whether it’s winning a soccer game or managing a company or getting the girl you like, your success is a guarantee.

The Blue Lock boys were ushered back to their facility after the game, so you didn’t get a chance to congratulate Tabito, but even being able to wave at him had lifted your spirits immensely, so you didn’t feel like you had wasted the trip.

In fact, you had a new pastime to occupy yourself with: namely, watching edits of yourself and liking all of the comments hyping you up. There were many of both, and when you weren’t listening to your best friend rambling about her favorite Blue Lock boy of the hour — Barou and Reo were definitely the ones she brought up the most, but Nagi and Isagi were mentioned a fair bit, too — you spent your hours on social media, sending the best edits to the group chat that you and your best friend had created with Yukimiya’s girlfriend and the elder Chigiri.

A couple of days after the game, you and your best friend were lounging in her aunt’s living room when you got a call from a number you had not seen on your phone in ages. Springing to your feet, you answered it immediately.

“Tabito? I thought they took your phone in Blue Lock?” you said.

“Hi, Y/N. Yes, they did, but we just got our stuff back and are on the buses back to the city. We’re on break for the next two weeks! Are you still in Tokyo?” he said.

“Yes! I’m here for about that amount of time — for all of winter break,” you said.

“Perfect. Some of the guys have plans to meet up in Shibuya tomorrow, but I don’t mind canceling—”

“Wait,” you cut him off, an idea formulating in your mind. “Are Barou, Nagi, Isagi, and Reo Mikage included when you say ‘some of the guys?’”

“Uh, I think Reo’s going to be there, but not any of the others. Why?” he said quizzically. Your best friend gave you a puzzled look, obviously wondering why you had just listed off her top Blue Lock crushes while on the phone with your boyfriend.

“Is it okay if we come, too?” you said. Tabito hummed uncertainly.

“Er, I don’t know…it’s not that I don’t want you to or that they’d mind or anything! In fact, they’d probably be delighted if you showed up. Rather, it’s that a few of them are a little bit odd, and you’d probably not enjoy yourself very much if you came,” he said.

“On the contrary, I think we would enjoy ourselves a great deal. Some of us more than others, naturally, but as long as you’re there, I’ll have fun, and as for my plus one…let’s just say that she could probably listen to a speech about the drying of cement, as long as it was Reo giving it,” you said.

“I see what’s happening here,” he said with a snort. “Okay, I got it. I’ll ask them and let you know what they say, alright?”

“If they say no, then tell them you can’t go and come hang out with me,” you instructed him. “I want to be with you tomorrow. I’ve missed you for far too long.”

“Will do. I miss you more.”

The line went abruptly dead, ostensibly from a lack of signal on his part, but now that you knew you were going to see him the next day either way, you just tossed the useless device aside and grinned devilishly at your best friend.

“What was that all about?” she said.

“Just go ahead and tell me you love me,” you said.

“I love you?” she said.

“And I love you,” you said. “So much that I’m making my boyfriend take us along on his group date with his soccer group — where none other than the man himself, Reo Mikage, will be present.”

About an hour or so later, Tabito texted you in the affirmative, sending you the address of the cafe where they were planning on meeting up at and giving you a rough estimate of the time they’d all be there. You and your best friend stayed up late that night, picking out your outfits — well, mostly hers, you were at the point in your relationship where you were positive that Tabito would find you pretty even in a trash bag, so you weren’t anywhere near worried about your own clothing — and planning what she’d say to sweep Reo off of his feet. Once you were done with that, you got in your pajamas and watched romantic comedies to get yourselves in ‘the zone’ and be completely prepared for the day to come, which might have qualified as one of the most important in her life.

You were the first ones at the cafe the next morning, so you took the liberty of choosing the largest table you could find and setting your things down before looking up their menu online. Your best friend, who was the one that had convinced you to be so obsessively punctual for fear of making a bad first impression on Reo, did the same, though she left two seats in between you and herself.

“Tell Karasu to sit next to you, and then have him get Reo to sit in between himself and me,” she said to you.

“Yup, I know the plan,” you said.

“Good,” she said. “Have you picked what you’re ordering? Since no one else is here yet, I can go in and grab stuff for both of us.”

“Yeah, I want this, and this,” you said, pointing at the exact menu items so that there was no room for misinterpretation.

“Mm, looks good,” she said. “Eek, I think there’s a line.”

“It’s peak brunch time,” you said. “We’re lucky to have gotten a table at all, let alone one so big. Just leave your sweater on your chair so no one else takes it. Unless you want me to go in instead?”

“Nope, I don’t want to look like a friendless loser if Reo gets here before you come back or the others show up,” she said.

“You should hurry up and join the queue before it gets any worse, then,” you said. “It would suck if you were stuck waiting and Reo left before you could even meet him.”

“I’m going!” she said, speeding into the cafe, the glass door clanging shut behind her. You laughed softly at how easy she was to rile up, resting your chin in your hands and regarding the bustling scenery of the street with adoration. Tokyo was different from home, but you didn’t mind the change. It was fun, anyways, coming up with backstories for the people who walked past, inquiring into their lives from the snippets you were shown with the curiosity of a squirrel.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” a light, playful voice said, distracting you from your thoughts. The speaker was a boy in a dark jacket, with headphones slung around his neck and a beanie pulled low over his hair, though a few stubborn strands poked out anyways — grayish-white strands, in specific, which were cut through by brilliant green. You swore under your breath. How had you not realized that he would be here as well? You could only hope that Reo would distract your best friend well enough that she would not flip out over Otoya’s presence

“You’re Otoya, right?” you said. At the mention of his name, he grinned and slid into the seat designated for Tabito, leaning his elbow on the table and batting his eyelashes at you.

“That’s me. How did you know? I’m certain we’ve not met before, because I’d remember a lady as pretty as yourself,” he said.

“You played in the match against the U-20s,” you said.

“You watched that?” he said. “I was pretty great, wasn’t I?”

“I don’t seem to remember you ever scoring,” you said thoughtfully. “And weren’t you subbed out? Ah, but yes, I was actually in the audience that day.”

Otoya wilted. “Oh. Were you rooting for the U-20s?”

“No, I was on Blue Lock’s side,” you said.

“Hold on, are you one of the guy’s sisters?” he said, stroking his chin and inspecting you. “Probably not Chigiri’s, but maybe Barou’s? I think he mentioned having younger sisters at one point. But I hope not, he’d definitely kill me for talking to you. Speaking of which, what are you even doing around here? Wanna go somewhere a bit nicer together?”

“I’m waiting for my boyfriend,” you said.

“Boyfriend?” Otoya said, face growing unnaturally pale. He inched his chair away from you. “Who’s your boyfriend?”

Before you could respond, a hand covered your eyes, blacking out your vision. “Guess who?”

“Tabito!” you said, standing up, yanking his hand away from you and kicking your chair out of the way so you could hug him. He was already waiting for you, pulling you to his chest immediately, burying his nose in your hair as he did when he was particularly tense or had been missing you.

“That’s correct. Gold star for Y/N,” he said.

Though it had been a while, now that you were back in his embrace, it felt like no time at all had passed. That was how it was between you and him, a product of the many years you both had known one another before ever dating. Tabito was as much your friend as he was your boyfriend, a confidante and a rival and a companion and a lover all wrapped into one package. There could not be secrets nor distance between the two of you, not when you both had been studying one another’s complexities since before you had even understood what it meant to pay such special attention to another person.

“Sit next to me,” you said, tugging on his coat.

“Sure thing,” he said. “Dude, move over.”

Otoya scrambled to his feet, taking the seat on Tabito’s other side and eyeing you warily, his cheeks flushed a light pink — no doubt due to that brand of humiliation which was borne from trying to get with one’s friend’s girlfriend.

“You’re Y/N?” he said.

“That’s me. Has Tabito mentioned my name or something?” you said. When he realized you weren’t going to rat him out, Otoya relaxed and pretended to gag.

“All of the time. I thought you were his celebrity crush or idol, the way he talked about you! I couldn’t believe you were real when he waved at you during the game. You were sitting a bit too far away for me to get a good look at you, but you waved back, so I had no choice but to believe him,” he said. You recognized that this was his attempt at an apology, and, finding no merit in anything but acceptance, you shrugged.

“I wasn’t that crazy,” Tabito said.

“I don’t know. Otoya doesn’t seem like the lying type,” you said. Otoya let out a sigh of relief, catching your eye and mouthing thank you when Tabito gave you an irritated look.

“He totally is! Don’t believe a word out of this asshole’s mouth, he’s full of shit!” he said.

“So that must be why you’re friends, then?” you said. Otoya let out a choked laugh, and Tabito gave you such a kicked-puppy look that you could not help but lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. “Just joking. Who else is coming?”

“Well, you already know about Reo, but besides him, Tokimitsu said he’d come, Aryu, and Yuki,” Tabito said, counting off each name on his fingers.

“Yuki? Like Yukimiya? You two are friends now?” you said, already planning double dates with Yukimiya and his girlfriend in your head.

“We were in Blue Lock together. That kind of experience can bond anyone,” Tabito said.

“This guy really hated Yuki at first, though,” Otoya said, jabbing his thumb towards Tabito, who scowled. “So fucking funny. Yuki would just be standing there, and he’d go crazy, talking about how ‘one centimeter isn’t a big deal’ and how Yuki was ‘just an average, mediocre guy.’”

“You can stop talking now,” Tabito said.

“But all’s well that ends well, right? Now Yuki and Karasu are great pals. He never did explain what his problem was at the start, however. I’ve always wondered,” Otoya said, in a tone that clearly suggested he was fishing for an elaboration from you.

“I can’t believe you’re telling on me! And to my girlfriend of all people!” Tabito said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why does Tabito not like Yuki? It’s a funny story, really,” you began.

“One we do not need to go over,” Tabito said. Now that the misunderstanding was well beyond cleared up, that fight right before you two had gotten together was a point of great embarrassment for Tabito, who still could not quite believe that he had behaved so irrationally.

“What don’t we need to go over?” It was another newcomer, but one who you knew — Yukimiya himself, who beamed when he saw you. “Oh, Y/N! Karasu mentioned you were going to be here, but to be quite frank with you, I sort of forgot. How have you been?”

“Can’t complain. What about you?” you said. “Great job in the game against the U-20s, by the way.”

“Thanks!” he said, sitting down across from you. “I’m in the same boat. It’s nice to be on a break. I actually slept in for the first time in forever, and I got to use my own skin products instead of the crap Blue Lock gave us.”

“I’m happy for you,” you said. “You all deserve a break. It’s obvious you’ve been working really hard.”

“Pardon, madam!” You hardly had the time to react before a spindly man with flowing black hair and dark, painted fingernails was crouching beside you. “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but I just — I have to acknowledge glam when it’s so obviously in front of me.”

“What?” you said.

“Here he goes,” Otoya said, steepling his fingers in anticipation.

“It’s just…I was aware that Karasu was bringing his girlfriend and her best friend to this little meeting of ours, but I didn’t know that one of you would turn out to be the most glam individual I’ve had the pleasure of seeing in ages! Please, tell me you’re the best friend,” he said.

“She’s the girlfriend, Aryu, so leave her alone,” Tabito said. Aryu pressed the back of his hand against his forehead.

“In another life, my dear,” he said, fluttering his fingers at you.

“No?” Tabito said. “In no other life! She’s mine in every one, so piss off!”

“Uh, thanks for the compliment. It’s nice to meet you, Aryu,” you said awkwardly. Otoya and Yukimiya did nothing to dissipate the tension, both of them exchanging looks and giggling.

“Sorry about him,” a stocky boy with huge, panicked eyes said, taking the chair beside where Aryu was still muttering to himself about a ‘grand love affair’ that would ‘shock the world with its glam potential.’ “You’re the girl from the edits, aren’t you? Y/N L/N? I’m Tokimitsu.”

“How do you know her full, official, government name?” Tabito said, arching his eyebrows. Tokimitsu shook his head so rapidly you thought his neck might snap or something from the speed of it.

“No, no, it’s not like that, Karasu! She’s just famous at the moment!” he said.

Tabito’s eyes flicked towards you for confirmation. You rubbed the back of your neck, beginning to explain for the benefit of the entire table.

“Right when Nagi scored, the three of us — my best friend, Chigiri, and I — were the only ones cheering, so the cameras focused on us,” you said. “After that, they would periodically show us throughout the match, and people have been making edits of those clips. At first, we were just the unnamed Blue Lock fans, but I think I liked one too many comments calling me hot, because now everyone knows who we all are…”

“Some of the edits are really good,” Tokimitsu agreed. “They’re all over my dashboard. People have even started shipping you guys with the players! Right now, the most popular pairings are you with Karasu—”

“Good,” Tabito said, sticking his nose in the air. You pinched him on the bicep, finding his uncharacteristic possessiveness as endearing as it was unnecessary.

“—and your best friend with Otoya,” Tokimitsu continued.

“Huh?” Otoya said.

“The clip of her giving you the middle finger right before halftime is super popular,” Tokimitsu said. “People have actually taken screenshots and made matching profile pictures. It’s a whole movement.”

“Huh?” Otoya said. “How am I supposed to flirt with girls if everyone thinks I’m taken by some psycho who hates me for no reason? Where can I file a complaint? This needs to be stopped at once!”

“It’s not for no reason, exactly,” you said.

“There’s a legitimate explanation?” Tabito said.

“Legitimate is a stretch, but there is an explanation,” you said. “You know her. She wouldn’t hate someone without having at least some kind of logic to it.”

A shiny black limousine pulled up in front of the cafe, and the back doors opened to reveal Reo Mikage, who stepped out and thanked the driver before walking over to join the rest of you. You were about to tell him to take the seat in between Tabito and your best friend, but then you realized that there was a massive problem: somebody was already sitting there. Namely, Otoya, who was busily swiping through his phone and reporting every account that he came across which had either him or your best friend as a profile picture.

“My apologies for the tardiness,” Reo said. His mere voice had a particular cadence to it that spoke to his wealth and upbringing, and down to the slightest, his mannerisms were genteel and refined. “I had to sneak out from a meeting to come here.”

“Sneaking out from a meeting to come to another meeting? You’re a busy guy, Reo!” Aryu said, evidently completely over his earlier heartbreak. “What a glam schedule.”

“That’s not the word I’d use for it,” Reo said, running a hand through his hair, which fell loosely around his face now that he wasn’t playing soccer. “Anyways, I hope I didn’t keep you all waiting for too long.”

“No, we haven’t gotten started yet,” Tabito said.

“We’ve been discussing the edits people made of Y/N and her friends!” Tokimitsu said. Reo looked over at you and smiled politely.

“I’ve seen a few of them. It’s an impressive marketing strategy on the JFU’s part — by sprinkling in clips of you three, they managed to appeal to a broader audience. Now, people who ordinarily never would have watched the game are watching reruns, therefore increasing their revenue tenfold,” he said, offering you his hand to shake. “I’m Reo Mikage.”

“Y/N L/N,” you said, taking it as professionally as you could, all the while wondering what was holding your best friend up. She ought to be here as soon as possible, or else she really might lose her chance.

Like she had read your mind, the glass door of the cafe swung open, and your best friend strolled out, two plastic cups balanced in one hand and two scones in a napkin held in the other.

“Sorry I took so long,” she said, thankfully oblivious to the members of the meeting you were crashing. “The barista got confused and made my drink iced. I told her it wasn’t a big deal, but she insisted on dumping it and remaking it properly, free of charge. Apparently, she’s new or something, so she’s still in that phase where she isn’t entirely jaded by the public yet.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Tabito. Grab my drink before she—!”

“You!” your best friend said, pointing at Otoya, who groaned in defeat and buried his face in his hands. Your drink slipped from her hands and clattered to the ground, spilling out onto the concrete, though she took no notice of it, putting the rest of the goods on the table and glaring at Otoya.

“My drink,” you said mournfully.

“I’ll go get you a new one,” Tabito said, making like he was going to stand. You grabbed onto his arm and shook your head.

“No, don’t leave me here,” you said.

“What? Why not?” he said. You pointed at the infamous duo, both of whom looked about ready to blow up, and then you looped your arms around his neck, peeking over his shoulder at the pair.

“If they get in a fight, I’ll be stuck in the crossfire,” you said. “You have to stay here and defend me if it comes to that. Quick, take the scones while she’s distracted. I’m going to eat them as payback for her dropping my drink.”

He did as you commanded. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” you said.

“You owe me ten dollars!” your best friend said.

“What? No, I don’t. We’ve never even met, so why would I owe you any money at all?” Otoya said. “Wait. We haven’t met, right? Or did we go on a date at some point? If so, I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, but you have to understand that things just end up like that sometimes. I’m not going to compensate you for that.”

“Jeez, Otoya,” Yukimiya said with a chuckle. “You’re kind of horrible, man. How many dates have you been on, if you don’t even remember whether you were with her at some point?”

“Do you really want the answer to that?” Otoya said. Yukimiya made a face.

“You were definitely on a date,” your best friend said. “I wasn’t, though. In fact, I was just innocently trying to watch a movie with my cousins, when somebody decided that they would just go ahead and make out with their date, right in front of my face, for the entire one hour and forty-seven minutes of the film!”

“Who’s somebody?” Tokimitsu whispered.

“Probably Otoya,” Aryu whispered back.

“Oh, I do remember you!” Otoya said, snapping his fingers. “You came and yelled at me after the movie, too, right? That was funny.”

“Okay, guys, how about we all relax and get to the point of this meeting instead of squabbling over past grievances?” Reo interrupted before the argument could grow anymore heated. Satisfied that things were now under control, you ceased your cowering behind Tabito, though you did make sure to shove the last of the scones in your mouth before your best friend could ask where they had disappeared to.

“Fine by me,” Otoya said when your best friend did not respond. “Yo, you gonna sit down or what?”

“You guys can have your meeting without us, since I’m quite sure it’s not anything that we’ll be able to meaningfully contribute to. In the meantime, she and I will go and get a replacement drink for me,” you said.

As soon as the two of you were inside and out of earshot of the boys, she let out a wail. “I completely made an awful first impression on Reo Mikage!”

“I can’t lie, you definitely did,” you said. “But at least it was entertaining for the rest of us. Cheer up! There’s still Barou, Nagi, and Isagi, right? You have an entire list for a reason. Reo might be a wash, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up entirely.”

“You’re right, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. If only that lettuce-headed Otoya weren’t here! Things would’ve gone perfectly, but ruining my life must be a particular hobby of his,” she said.

“You might be better off if you pretend he’s not around,” you said. “How about this? We’ll get Tabito to set you up on a date with one of the others on your roster, and I’ll personally ensure that Otoya stays far, far away.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Here, I’ll pay for your drink, since I spilled it the first time.”

“Yeah, I was going to make you do that even if you didn’t offer.”

Upon your return outside, drinks and additional scones in hand, you were met with a larger group than you had left. Even more of the Blue Lock boys had appeared, and all of them were talking animatedly with one another.

“You’re Hyoma!” you said, taking a sip from your still-hot beverage, waving at your new friend’s little brother. “I sat with your sister at the game.”

“She’s mentioned you a couple of times. Said you thought I did well in the game,” Chigiri said, scratching the bridge of his nose shyly. “I really appreciate it. You’re Karasu’s girlfriend, right?”

“Yes! Thank you for knowing that!” Tabito said, snatching your drink from you and taking a swig, bursting into a coughing fit as it scalded his throat.

“That’s what you get,” you said, taking your drink back, blowing on it to cool it before taking the tiniest sip. “Alright, I know Isagi and Chigiri, but who’s the third one?”

“That’s Bachira,” Tabito said. “He’s a fascinating guy.”

“You know what we should do? Since all of us are together for the first time outside of Blue Lock, we should hang out!” Bachira said, rocking on his heels.

“That’s good with me. Our meeting ended up not being that productive,” Yukimiya said.

“Mostly due to certain individuals,” Reo agreed, looking pointedly at Otoya.

“Me? Blame her!” Otoya said, pointing at your best friend, who was busy exchanging hair care tips with Aryu instead of putting the moves on Isagi, as you thought she might’ve.

“Reo’s too much of a glam gentleman to blame a lady for anything,” Aryu said.

“What he said,” Reo agreed. “Though, again, I wouldn’t put it like that.”

“Where should we go?” Tokimitsu said. “I’m okay with anything.”

“Wait, what about Nagi? Isn’t he with you guys?” Reo said to Isagi, who hummed.

“He was supposed to meet up with us, but he overslept, and then he saw an arcade on the way, so he stopped in there,” Isagi said.

“Reo, I bet you have Nagi’s location on your phone at all times, right?” Bachira said. Reo nodded. “Then I say we use that to go and find him!”

“An arcade day does sound like a blast,” Yukimiya said.

“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’m going to stay back and spend the day with Y/N,” Tabito said.

“She can come, too!” Bachira said. “On one condition: she has to be my partner for rhyming ping-pong.”

“That’s a fair deal in my books,” you said. Ordinarily, you would have agreed with Tabito — a calm date with him was far more appealing than the prospect of going to an arcade with a bunch of soccer players — but above all else, you were a loyal friend, and you could hardly abandon your best friend when Reo, Nagi, and Isagi would all be present at this gathering.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to feel bad for me. I don’t mind missing out on hanging with these idiots. I see enough of them in Blue Lock as it is,” Tabito said.

“I’m offended,” Otoya said dryly. “What happened to bros before hoes?”

“Considering she’s his girlfriend and he’s liked her for going on six years now, I’d say she’s probably a bit more than a ‘hoe,’” Yukimiya said.

“I don’t feel bad for you, Tabito, so you can put that out of your mind. I haven’t gone to an arcade or played rhyming ping-pong in ages. It’ll be fun, I think,” you said, kicking him under the table and angling your chin towards Reo and Isagi ever-so-slightly. His mouth formed an ‘o’ in realization.

“Then I guess we’re off to the arcade,” he said. “Lead the way, Reo.”

“Follow me,” Reo said, holding up his phone, which displayed the elusive Nagi’s location on the screen.

You all must’ve appeared an odd group to any onlookers, but that didn’t stop any of you from enjoying yourselves as you weaved through the streets of Shibuya. You walked with Tabito, your hand intertwined with his like usual, both of you pointing out window displays you found appealing or ridiculous. Chigiri and Bachira hotly debated which arcade games were the best, Isagi doing his best to mediate while Otoya egged both of them on in turn. Reo and Yukimiya continued their discussion on the economics of Blue Lock from the earlier meeting, and Aryu described every single step he took in the shower to your best friend and Tokimitsu, both of whom were enthralled by the topic. All in all, it was a blend which should not have worked but somehow did, and more than simply working, it really excelled.

“There you are, pain-in-the-ass gamer prince!” Tabito cackled as everyone entered the arcade and saw Nagi sitting at one of the booths, controls in his hands and a small frown on his face as he gunned down his virtual enemies. Letting go of you, Tabito wrestled Nagi into a headlock, messing with his hair as Nagi whined in protest. “You’re going to lose all of your friends, you jerk!”

“Caught red-handed,” Reo said with a sigh. “Classic Nagi.”

“Now that we’ve found him, it’s time to party!” Bachira said, pumping his fist in the air. “Tokimitsu, let’s go play darts!”

“Okay!” Tokimitsu said.

“I’m heading over to the claw machine,” your best friend said. “Wanna come, Y/N?”

“Sure, I’ll cheer you on,” you said. “I’m pretty bad at it myself, so I won’t waste my money on my own attempts.”

Everyone dispersed throughout the arcade. Tabito, Otoya, and Aryu followed you and your best friend towards the claw machine, much to your best friend’s disgust — you were certain that she had been hoping Isagi, Nagi, or Reo would come with you, but all three of them were preoccupied with the darts competition Bachira had set up, leaving her to side-eye Otoya and stick to conversing only with Aryu. For his part, Aryu was happy to oblige her, as sticking close to your best friend had the double effect of cooling Tabito’s ire from earlier as well as alleviating the hostility between her and Otoya.

“This has got to be rigged!” your best friend said when her third attempt at trying to nab a panda plushie proved unsuccessful. On each attempt, right before she was able to drop the plushie into the chute, the claw would give out and it would fall back into the pile, leaving her out of money and patience.

“Move out of the way,” Otoya said. “Let me show you how the masters get it done.”

“You call yourself a claw-machine master?” you said. “What, do you practice or something?”

Otoya entered a token into the machine and shouldered past your fuming best friend, grabbing the controls with casual ease. “Girls love it when you win stuffed animals for them. Check out my flow!”

“I never put you down as someone with this type of functional glam,” Aryu said, pressing his face against the glass of the machine. “I sincerely repent for the underestimation!”

“You really are a master,” you breathed, doing the same, watching in astonishment as Otoya expertly maneuvered the plushie towards the chute.

“Stop shaking the machine, idiots, you’ll make him mess up,” Tabito said, pulling you and Aryu away from the glass by the back of your collars and holding you there until Otoya had retrieved his prize.

“Bam,” Otoya said, tossing the panda at your best friend. “Ninja skills.”

It hit her in the face and fell to the ground; with a withering glare, she stooped over and tucked it under her arm before stomping away.

“You better not find yourself anywhere near the dartboards! I’m warning you, I have a bad aim, so look out!” she threatened before disappearing, presumably to join in on Bachira’s tournament.

“Isn’t that just a self-insult?” Otoya said. “Sucking at darts is even worse than sucking at the claw machine, don’t you think?”

“She means she’ll hit you with the dart and you can’t blame her for it because she warned you, you dunce,” Tabito said, face-palming. “Come on, Y/N, let’s go see how the tournament’s going.”

The tournament seemed to have split into two sections. On the right side, Reo, Tokimitsu, Yukimiya, and your best friend were tossing darts at the board with precision and care, tallying up their scores and congratulating one another after each round. On the left, Nagi was standing in front of the board with his arms spread and his back to Bachira, Isagi, and Chigiri, who were gleefully taking turns throwing darts in his direction, talking about how this was his ‘punishment’ for standing them up.

“Who’s winning?” you said, right as Bachira sent a dart shooting towards the back of Nagi’s head. Nagi exhaled heavily.

“Sorry,” he repeated for the thousandth time.

“Do you think it’s even possible for someone to win in a game like that?” Tabito said. “Better to ask those guys.”

“I think Yuki is up right now,” Reo said in response to your unasked question. “Although Tokimitsu’s catching up. It’s super close. Could be anyone’s game.”

“Now that you’re here, Y/N, let’s go play rhyming ping-pong!” Bachira said.

“Who will we play against, though?” you said.

“Nagi, for one,” Bachira said.

“I don’t want to,” Nagi said. Bachira raised another dart, causing Nagi’s sleepy frown to deepen. “Okay, I will.”

“Then Tabito can be your teammate,” you said.

“You’re challenging me?” Tabito said. “You’re going to regret that. Prepare to lose.”

“Bachira and I won’t let you get even a point, right, Bachira?” you said.

“That’s right!” Bachira said, high-fiving you and charging forwards as the entire group headed over to the ping-pong table. Picking out four paddles from the rack, he handed one each to you, Tabito, and Nagi, keeping the last for himself and joining you on your side of the table.

“If we beat you, then you have to take me to the aquarium for our next date!” you said, brandishing your paddle at Tabito.

“Fine, but if we beat you, then you have to join me during my workouts for the rest of the break!” he said, tossing the ball up and down in the air.

“We have to crush them,” you said to Bachira. “If I have to workout with him, I’ll probably die.”

“Got it,” Bachira said, rolling his shoulders. “Ready when you are.”

“Nagi, get your head in the game,” Tabito said to his reluctant partner. “We need to win this. The aquarium is so creepy and unromantic! What kind of first date back from Blue Lock would that be? I need your talents, prodigy.”

“Okay,” Nagi said. “Are we starting?”

“Yeah, you can serve. Do you know how to play?” Tabito said.

“Not really,” he said.

“Whenever you hit the ball, you have to say a word that the other team can rhyme to, and when they return the serve, they have to come up with that rhyme and say it,” Bachira said. “Pretty easy, right?”

“It’ll be a simple win,” you said. “I’m first in the class for Modern Literature, so I know a lot of words.”

“Don’t underestimate Nagi,” Reo said. “He may look like little more than a typical idiot slacker, but he actually came second in our year without studying at all.”

“I’m so torn,” your best friend said. “Who do I root for?”

“Why’s it a question? Wouldn’t you want to root for your best friend?” Chigiri said.

“You wouldn’t get it,” she said.

“Hmph,” Chigiri said. “Whatever.”

“Okay, are both sides ready?” Yukimiya said. He had been chosen to referee, mostly because he was the most impartial. All of you nodded, and he whistled. “Rhyming ping-pong, begin! Your serve, Nagi!”

“Um,” Nagi said, tossing the ball in the air and tapping it with his paddle. “Orange?”

Yukimiya whistled again. “Out! Y/N and Bachira are the winners!”

“What was that?” Tabito screeched.

“He must’ve gotten nervous in the face of Bachira and I’s combined prowess,” you said, tossing your hair.

“Not really. I just didn’t wanna play,” Nagi said. “There’s some good aquariums in Tokyo, Karasu. You can probably have a fun date there.”

“You’re the worst,” Tabito said. “I’m taking Chigiri next time. I bet he wouldn’t have picked orange as his first word!”

“I would’ve gone with bat,” Chigiri said.

“Ooh, and then I would’ve said cat!” you said. Bachira had vanished alongside Isagi and Reo, giving some excuse about karaoke before running out the door after them, leaving you standing alone across from the furious Tabito and lethargic Nagi.

“Maybe we should’ve teamed up,” Chigiri said to you. You winked and gave him a thumbs-up in assent.

“Can we go see what Reo and the others are doing?” Nagi said, limp in another one of Tabito’s headlocks, completely unbothered by the vulnerable position that he was being held in.

“Bachira said they were going for karaoke,” you said. “Maybe we should find Otoya and Aryu before joining them, though.”

“How about just Aryu?” your best friend suggested, though her ideas went unheard.

“I’ll text them,” Yukimiya said.

“No need,” Otoya said, peeking his head into the door. “We’ve been looking for you guys for a while.”

“Such unglam conduct, disappearing like that,” Aryu said in disappointment.

“Sorry!” Tokimitsu yelped.

“Since we’re all here now, we should be good to head to karaoke,” Yukimiya said.

“Karasu and I are going to do a duet,” Otoya informed everyone as you all followed the signs for the karaoke section of the building.

“Hell yeah,” Tabito snickered. “We’ll knock everyone’s socks off. They’re not ready.”

“What song?” Tokimitsu said.

“Something with a lot of belting,” Otoya said.

“Please don’t,” your best friend said. “I didn’t bring ear plugs, and I do value my hearing.”

“Wait a second,” you said. “Hey, Tabito, Yukimiya — isn’t that Aiku from the U-20 squad?”

“Huh?” Tabito said.

“It is!” Yukimiya said. “He’s talking to Reo, Isagi, and Bachira, too. That’s unexpected.”

“Looks like the whole gang’s here, in fact,” Tabito said, cracking his knuckles and motioning towards the rest of the U-20 squad, who were glowering at the boys beside you as they approached.

“A fight?” Nagi said.

“Could be,” Otoya said, striking a ninja-pose that caused your best friend to dissolve into a fit of laughter, which he ignored completely. “I’m stoked.”

“Need backup, Isagi?” Yukimiya said, his hands in his pockets and a genial smile on his face. “We’ve got you.”

“Ah, but don’t expect anything from me!” you said, flashing them all a peace sign. “I’ll cheer for you from the corner, though.”

“A girl? Hello—” Aiku began, though he was immediately interrupted by Tabito.

“Nope, don’t even think about it,” he said.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Aiku said.

“What are you all doing here?” one of the U-20 boys, whose name you couldn’t recall, said.

“Likely the same thing as you,” Chigiri said.

“But in a more glam way, naturally,” Aryu added.

“The fuck? Don’t think I won’t mess you up, freak!” the U-20 player said.

“Freak?” Aryu said. “Say that again, I dare you!”

“How about we settle this over a game of bowling?” Aiku suggested. “That way, none of us get in trouble with our coaches for accidentally injuring ourselves.”

“Fine by us,” Yukimiya said. “We’ll beat you either way.”

“I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to watch you all pummel each other,” you agreed.

“Same,” your best friend said. “Though I wouldn’t mind too much if you roughed Otoya up a bit…”

“Hey!” the boy in question said.

“The ladies have spoken,” Aiku said. “Bowling it is!”

“Are you going to play?” Tabito asked you as you all trekked towards the bowling alley.

“Nah, this is a feud between Blue Lock and the U-20 players. I’m just an onlooker,” you said.

“Aw, but you’re the bowling champion! We’d win for sure if we had you on our side,” he said. Going bowling had been a common event for both of your friend groups all throughout high school, so he had been privy to many a round in which you absolutely annihilated everyone else, demolishing him and his friends and yours alike with a careful, needle-like precision.

“You’re not half-bad yourself. Plus, who knows how good the others are? It’ll be alright. Go beat those U-20 boys again, and then let’s get out of here,” you said.

“Just us? Or do you mean everyone?” he said.

“Just us,” you said. “I’ve been downright helpful all day, so no one can begrudge me for being a little bit selfish and sneaking off with you. I’ll only do it if you win, though.”

That was a lie, but Tabito was the type who performed better under pressure. The thought that he might miss out on a date with you — especially one not at the aquarium — would be more than enough to drive him to bowling success.

“Y/N!” your best friend hissed to you as Tabito and the others went to check in at the counter. “Check it out! It’s Shoei Barou!”

“He’s bowling all by himself? Huh, that’s a little startling. The more you know, I guess,” you said. Privately, you had believed the intimidating Barou would have had similarly intimidating habits, like powerlifting, or beating up thugs in alleyways, or activities more along those lines, but of course, everyone had layers, so maybe you shouldn’t have assumed.

“It’s kind of cute, if I’m being honest,” she said. “Like, oh my gosh, you’re a friendless loner! I need you so badly.”

“There’s a lid for every pot,” you said, not at all seeing the appeal in that kind of person but having decided long ago that you were more glad than anything that you and she didn’t have the same taste in men — you had likely avoided many awkward situations in that way. “Well, what’s your plan? You’ve got Reo, Barou, Nagi, and Isagi all in one room. Who’re you going to go for?”

“Let’s weigh the pros and cons. That should help us come to a proper conclusion,” she said.

“Got it. Cons: Reo finds you super immature for fighting with Otoya, Nagi doesn’t seem to care about you one way or another, Isagi is much more interested in hanging out with Bachira and Chigiri than trying to talk to you, and you haven’t even met Barou yet,” you said. She gulped.

“And, uh, the pros?” she said. You frowned.

“Uh…at least Nagi’s opinion of you isn’t bad?” you said. “And you haven’t had the chance to make a terrible impression on Barou yet.”

“That’s it?” she said.

“Sorry,” you said. “But kind of. It’s not looking good.”

“What do I do, then?” she said. “Is it time for me to give up on my dreams? Am I destined to be single forever? Will the closest I get to a wedding be in the form of attending yours as a bridesmaid?”

“Don’t be pessimistic,” you said. “There’s always Aiku. He seems like he’d take anything on legs for a date or two.”

In unison, you glanced over at Aiku. He, and Otoya for that matter, were talking to a pair of girls, who were hooked on their every word, irises sparkling as they listened to both boys flirt. You and your best friend exchanged looks.

“I’d rather die alone,” she said.

“That kind of relationship wouldn’t last,” you affirmed. “Don’t worry. I’ll ask Tabito if he can introduce you to Barou. He’s likely your best bet at this point.”

“You might be right about that,” she said, following after you as you made your way towards where the ones not actively bowling were hanging out.

This, unfortunately, was a fatal mistake. The route took you past Otoya and Aiku, and, more importantly, the girls they were chatting with. One of them happened to catch a glimpse of you both, and she immediately gasped, shoving past Otoya to tap the two of you on our shoulders.

“You’re the girls from the edits!” she said. You winced at the murderous expressions on Aiku’s and Otoya’s faces.

“Yeah, we are,” you said.

“No way!” the other girl said to your best friend. “You and your boyfriend are my sister and her boyfriend’s profile pictures!”

“Boyfriend?” your best friend said. “I’m single, though?”

“The guy you gave the middle finger to at the Blue Lock vs U-20 match! Aren’t you two dating?” she said.

“No!” your best friend and Otoya said at the same time.

“Wait, I didn’t recognize you because of the hat, but you’re the confused player that she flipped off!” the girl said to Otoya. “Can we get a picture of the two of you together? We’re guaranteed to go viral if we can post something like that!”

“Oh, boy,” you said. “Aiku, you seem like a nice guy, so I’m going to advise you to run right about now.”

“What?” he said.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” you said, darting off before you were caught up in the fallout that would accompany the request, not slowing your pace until you were safely over by Tabito and the rest, far away from the brewing situation.

“I think we’re going to do it!” Tabito said when he saw that you were once again at his side. “As long as Nagi is more motivated to bowl than he was to play rhyming ping-pong.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, that’s great,” you said. “Let’s go.”

“Right now?” he said.

“Right now,” you said.

“Did something happen?” he said.

“This bowling alley is about to turn into a war zone,” you said, gesturing over to where Otoya and your best friend were standing stiffly beside one another, the girl angling her phone to take as many photos of them as possible.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “See you guys later!”

“What? You’re already leaving?” Chigiri said.

“Yup, it was great to meet you all! Good luck in Blue Lock. Hope to see you again!” you said, sprinting towards the doors with Tabito, ducking out right as your best friend went off on a tirade about how Otoya needed to stay a ‘minimum of two bodies’ away from her at all times lest he ‘infect her with the green hair disease.’ “Phew.”

“We made it,” Tabito said. “Now what?”

“Now we do whatever we want,” you said, reaching up and kissing him softly. “No more worrying about everyone else. Let’s do something for just the two of us.”

“Finally,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you left the arcade behind. “I’ve been missing you for so long, and when I finally got you back, I had to share you with all of my dumbass teammates. Not fair.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “It’s like Otoya said — bros before hoes.”

“Otoya’s a jackass,” he said.

“True,” you said. “But enough about him. I want to hear about everything you did in Blue Lock, so that when you have to go back, I can imagine what you might be up to at any given moment and feel a little better.”

“Gross,” he said.

“You act as though you hate it, but I knew deep down you like it,” you said. He wrinkled his nose, though it did little to hide his prominent blush.

“Nah,” he said, drawing you impossibly closer to his side, as much to be affectionate as to prevent you from further exposure to the redness of his face. “I just like you.”

“Oh?” you said. “That’s good, because I like you, too.”

“I already knew that,” he said.

“Never mind,” you said. “If that’s the case, then I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. You smiled, playing with his fingers as the two of you walked around the city with no destination in mind, no end goal but to enjoy each other’s company.

“No, I don’t.”

#karasu x reader #karasu x y/n #karasu x you #karasu tabito #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock #established relationship #reader insert #m1ckeyb3rry milestone #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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aikaterini-drag · 9 months ago

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Past And Present PART 3

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: You think back to how you and Rafe first met and all the memories you’ve shared. You get emotional but Rafe’s always there for you.

Warnings: lots of fluff and sweet moments, soft Rafe, brother’s best friend, memories.

This belongs to the ‘Loving You Series’. Find it here.

It was a lovely morning.

The sun streamed through the windows, warm shafts of light kissing your skin. Rafe had already left for work but since you were feeling a little nauseous you stayed home. You were in your 2nd pregnancy month, feeling lightheaded and nauseous all the time. Rafe made you a light breakfast and refused to go to his company. But you were fine and Rafe had a very important contract to negotiate that day. It took a hell of an effort to convince him to go. He insisted you take your prenatal medicine and lie in bed. You also promised to text him every fifteen minutes to reassure him.

Satisfied that you had the day to lie down and relax, you stretched lazily in bed, a small smile on your face. The nausea was fading and you lovingly rubbed your still-flat stomach. Your life felt good, precious, and joyful. You were about to marry your childhood sweetheart and were expecting your first child.

Rafe Cameron had been in your life since you were a child. He was your brother’s best friend, his presence constant in your family house.

You vividly remembered being 8 years old and Rafe being 10. You smiled at the memory. It had been a sunny afternoon and you were playing tea-time in the backyard with your dolls, completely absorbed in your own little world. Rafe was playing video games with your big brother inside, your parents were at the supermarket.

“What are you doing, little squirt?” Rafe had asked, pulling you from your game.

“Don’t call me that,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Go away.”

Rafe laughed and walked over to you, crouching down to your level. “Having a tea party, huh? That’s for babies.”

Rafe inspected your tea set and your small pink chair and table. He chucked as he held up a tiny plastic teacup. Then he picked up one of your dolls, Miss Sparkles, a new Barbie with silky long hair and a pink dress. He held it up before you could stop him.

“Hey, do you think dolls can fly?” he asked in wonder.

You frowned. “No, dolls can’t fly.”

“Wanna bet?” he grinned, and before you could protest, he tossed the doll into the air. The poor Barbie soared in the sky before landing in a mud ditch with a soft splash.

You gasped. “No! Rafe, you’re the worst!”

You ran to the mud pile and gently grabbed your doll, now covered in mud and filth.

“Hate you, hate you, hate you!” you mumbled, ready to cry.

“Nah, don’t start crying now,” Rafe ran to you, his face tight. “I didn’t mean it!”

“Why do you always ruin my stuff?” You sniffled, tears in your eyes. “You are the worst!”

“Take it back!” he said. “I just thought it would be funny!”

“Miss Sparkles is covered in mud. How is that funny?!”

Rafe sighed. “I didn’t think she’d land in the mud.”

“Well, what’s done is done now. You ruined her.”

You turned to move away, but he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. Eyes on you, he took your doll and rubbed it messily on his hoodie. Your eyes widened. That was his favorite hoodie, a Christmas gift from his dad. Without flinching, Rafe cleaned the face of your doll, ruining his perfectly white clothing.

“Whoa…” you muttered, your mouth going slack.

“There! Your doll’s ruined, my hoodie’s ruined too. Now stop crying.”

“You could just clean her with water, you fool,” you said, your tears stopping. “Not ruin your hoodie.”

“I had to do something! That’s what came to mind. An eye for an eye,” Rafe said, handing the doll back to you.

You dropped the doll to the ground. “Leave me alone.”

And with that, you ran into the house.

Later that day, you found your favorite Miss Sparkles outside your room, sparkling clean and in better condition than you’d ever seen her. Your doll was wet but no longer smudged, her hair untangled. A note was tucked at the bottom of the box, saying “I’m sorry”. You smiled and secretly thought that Rafe Cameron was not such a bad boy after all.

Ever since then, your interactions with Rafe grew less and less animated. When he came to visit, he was polite and discreet. He hung out with your bother a lot and you remembered the sleepovers and the late-night talks you’d overhear about the girls they liked. For some reason, you didn’t like it when Rafe talked about other girls.

Sometimes, Rafe would pick you up from school when your parent;s or brother couldn’t. You would walk together, barely talking. Rafe would buy you ice cream but you watched him warily, fearing he might prank you again. But he never did. He never pranked or teased you ever again.

And then you finally started trusting him again. You were friendly to him and you could swear his eyes lit up whenever he saw you.

It was 4 years ago when your relationship turned intimate, your feelings molding into something deep and intense.

Rafe had been 26, and he had started a small real estate company with the help of his father. And you, at 24, worked at a library and volunteered at a local history museum. The position wasn’t a large one like the prestigious museums you’d dreamed of, but you were patient.

On that sunny afternoon, you were busy setting up a new exhibit on local folklore. You’d been working non-stop and you seriously needed to take a break. As luck would have it, your phone buzzed. It was Rafe.

“Little squirt?” he teased, his voice deep and warm.

“Will you stop calling me that?” You laughed affectionately.

“It depends. What are you doing?”

“I’m at the museum.”

“Are you free for lunch?”

“Sure,” you replied, smiling. “I could use a break.”

“Wait for me. I’ll see you in twenty.”

Rafe arrived five minutes early, sauntering into the museum in his fine linen shirt and dark blue trousers. You stared at him, your heart skipping a beat or two. His blue eyes sparkled, and he looked even better than all the art around him. He’d grown into a handsome man, tall and fit, his once-boyish features now chiseled and mature.

“Rafe,” you said, a smile spreading across your face.

“Hey there, Miss curator,” he greeted, pulling you into a warm hug. You felt the firmness of his body against yours, goosebumps awakening on your while body.

“Hey yourself, Mr. CEO,” you teased back, inhaling his clean masculine scent. You wished he’d hug you more, but he stepped back.

“Let’s grab a bite, hm?”

You hummed in agreement.

You settled in your favorite Italian restaurant, sitting in a small table outside. The place was bustling. Rafe sat next to you, the seat and table a little too small for his long legs and tall frame. You secretly laughed as you watched him try to make himself comfortable but once you sat beside him, he went silent. Your thighs brushed gently as you moved. You tried not to be affected as you chatted about work and life while eating.

“How’s the new exhibit going?” Rafe asked, taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s great,” you replied. “I’m focusing on local folklore and I’m honestly amazed at how many stories and traditions are out there. I can’t wait to show it off to everyone.”

Rafe smiled, his arm casually draping over the back of your chair. “You are incredible. You’ve always been.”

“Thanks,” you said, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks. “And how’s the real estate business going?”

“Pretty good so far,” he said. “We’re closing on a big deal next week. It’s been a lot of work, but it’s worth it.”

You grinned. “Remember when we were kids, and you used to tease me without end?”

Rafe chuckled. “Don’t remind me.”

“You are all mature now but back then, you were such a troublemaker.” You smiled. “Yet you always made it right. Like the time you ruined your favorite hoodie to clean my Barbie doll.”

Rafe looked at you, his expression softening. He didn’t reply and you both fell into an emotionally charged silence, watching each other. His blue eyes held yours, occasionally shifting to your mouth.

His hand, the one resting on the back of your chair, moved to cup your neck. Your breathing picked up, your heart rate increasing.

“What have you done to me?” he drawled, his voice dark and silky.

“Rafe?” you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. You’d done nothing.

“Want to kiss you,” he said, his eyes caressing your lips.

You swallowed hard, a little explosion going off in your head.

Rafe wanted to kiss you.

Damn… your heart was somersaulting.

You came out of your high when he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his eyes dilated.

Before you could think rationally, you did the unexpected. You cupped his face and pressed his lips to yours. He froze for exactly one second, then moaned and responded, his moist, firm mouth claiming yours. His lips were warm and tasted faintly of the wine he’d been drinking.

The kiss started slow and thoughtful but soon turned deep, with him crushing you to his chest, the calm shattered with his tongue. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, fast and strong. He possessed your mouth, his tongue tracing the soft fullness of your lips before slipping inside. Shivers of desire raced through you as you gave yourself freely to him.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless. Rafe’s lips were rosy with your lipgloss, deliciously kiss-swollen. You wanted to kiss him again. Your own lips felt mumb from the heady sensation of his lips.

“Wow,” you whispered, wetting your lips.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he drawled, his eyes sparkling.

“Really?”

“Hmm…” His lips brushed against yours as he added, “You’ve ruined me.”

“Likewise,” you muttered in between slow kissed. “I’ve been wanting this… wasn’t sure if… if…”

His mouth covered yours hungrily.

“You’re mine.” He gazed into your eyes.

Your heart warmed. You nodded. “Only if you’ll be mine.”

“Baby, you squeezed my heart the day you cried after I ruined your doll. I thought I was just pitying you, but as I got older, it fucked me, turned into so much more.”

“So you fell first, Rafe Cameron,” you said smugly.

“Hmm… I fell hard for you, little squirt,” he said, kissing the pulsing hollow at the base of your throat.

“My brother’s going to kill you,” you said and felt his smile on your skin.

“I’ll take it. For you, I’d take anything, baby.”

And he kissed you again.

From that day on, everything changed.

He was no longer just Rafe, your brother’s best friend. He was Rafe, the man who shared your passions and dreams.

*Back to the Present*

The sound of your name being called out anxiously brought you back to the present. Wiggling on the bed, you sat up against the headboard and muttered a clear and loud, “I’m here.” Rafe dashed inside and knelt beside the bed, taking your small hands in his big ones. He was completely overwrought; his tie was askew, and he was panting, his face pale with worry.

“Rafe?”

“Hey, baby,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “I was a fool to leave you alone. I can’t focus with you being unwell. How are you, love?”

“Rafe,” tears gathered in your eyes. You struggled to hold them back but the memories of the past and seeing him now, so worried and loving, made you emotional all over again.

“Damn, damn it all,” he said, his expression going even more concerned. “I am an ass. Shouldn’t have left you.” He cupped your face and kissed you softly. “I’m here baby. What’s wrong? Should I call the doctor? We can go right n—”

“I’m fine.” You sniffled, hands clutching the lapels of his shirt. “Just emotional.”

“Emotional?”

“Hmm… I was thinking of how you teased me when we were little. And then of our first kiss at that Italian restaurant.”

“But you’re crying,” he said stubbornly. “I can’t take it, can’t take seeing you like this.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “I know. It’s just… I was thinking of how good you are to me and the memories just came flooding. The tears, too.”

“Truly?” he asked tensely, a big palm spreading protectively over your stomach. “You are not unwell? The baby?”

“We are both alright. I promise. Hold me, please?”

“I’ll hold you all day and night, baby.”

Relief washing over his features, he crawls into the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest. He kissed away your tears and you greedily enjoyed his body’s warmth, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing your frayed nerves.

“I’m here. Always will be,” he murmured into your hair seconds before you fell into a deep, pleasurable sleep.

Reblogs, follows and any other kind of support are greatly appreciated. Sending hugs!

#rafe cameron x female!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe

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gilverrwrites · 6 months ago

Text

Dumping some stagnant WIPs that I’d love to revive in the hopes that some feedback/interaction might reignite my fire for them. Or at least show them the light of day they might never see otherwise.

Ft. (in order) PT!Dick Grayson, Nightwing, The Riddler, Two-Face, Harvey Bullock, Leatherface, and Jason Voorhees.

Colour co-ordinated for ease of navigation. Some of these are really short and sweet, some are whole-ass first chapters to potential series. Comments appreciated!

Untitled, PT!Dick Grayson/civilian reader, undecided

Nobody ever showed to the 2PM class. He’d meant to take it off the schedule since he spent most of them unofficially working on Nightwing business. Then you started showing up.

The first time he’d been in the back, hunched over his computer in nothing but his boots and boxers.

“Hello?” Your melodic voice chimed through the building, and he scrambled to find work out appropriate clothes, hopping his way to the front of house as he tied the laces of his sneakers. “Anyone here?”

As he pushed through the doors, he was mentally juggling how to get rid of you. It would be scammy of him to under or over work you in an attempt to put you off of coming back. Maybe he’d just tell you the class of cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances? But then he saw you.

Blue Bird: Missing, Nightwing/villain reader, multi chapter slow burn

Nightwing had been a part of your life, at least your life of crime, for as long as you could remember. Since you were teens fighting on opposite sides of the law. While he wasn’t your target tonight, he was in the way. He hadn’t been responsible for you latest stint at Blackgate.

It didn’t take a detective to know that the saftest course of action would be to lay low, to hide out until his patrolling took him a safe enough distance away for you to act without his alerting him. The smart part of you knew this, the petty part of you didn’t care.

“Stay still, I promise I wont look.” You instruct, closing your eyes as you paw at his mask until it comes off into your hands. His comms needed to be shut down, ensuring none of his bat or bird friends could come to his rescue and interfere with your plans.

With caution, you turn your back to him and begin to play with the tiny buttons and notches until you’re satisfied that you’ve turned it off. Shutting down his comms. You’re expecting a witty retort, something flirty about you missing out on his good looks, but nothing comes, and you don’t have time to wait.

“See, I kept my promise.” You continue as you turn back to him, eyes shut once more as you secure the mask back to the space over his eyes. When you look at him again, you find yourself struck with more curiosity than expected. You wouldn’t break the unspoken rule, you’d keep to your promise, but being so close to exposing him really has you wondering how he looks uncovered. What colour his eyes are. Blue, dark blue, you bet. He’d be cheesy enough to match his suit to his eyes.

“So, what’s your end game here, sweetheart?” He looks up at you expectantly, smirking in a way that’s far to smug for his position.

“Why? You gonna talk me down? I already told you, power bottom…” A gust of cold wind blows against you, pushing a piece of dark hair against his face and you brush it back, savouring its softness without even thinking. When you realise what you’re doing you tighten your grip and tug his head back against the post, saving face. At least you would be saving face if he didn’t let out an inexplicably lewd moan that made you suck in an audible breath. Theres an awkward pause between you both before you distract by continuing your answer to his question “This isn’t about you, you just got caught in the crosshairs.”

“Crosshairs of what battle?” He asks, and maybe he’s entitled to know, given that he’ll be sat on his ass, and undeniably inconvenienced by all this, but he’d put you in the same situation many times. Yes, his motivations were far more just than yours, but that meant nothing to you.

“It’s need to know bird boy.” You poke his nose, before finally stepping back, reassessing your surroundings, noting your next step before leaving him with a wave and a final shout; “And you don’t need to know.”

That should have been that last time you’d seen him, for that night anyway. But when you’d reached Nygma’s hideout, it was empty. It didn’t make sense. Your sources were reliable, you’d staked it out the night before. He’s been there, his henchmen had been there, boxes full of stupid trophies and half-built robots had been there, and now they were gone. The old mill factory was wiped clean, you were fuming. You’d called your informant to no avail. Reached out to some old contacts, who couldn’t help you. Tracked across the city, checking out his other known safehouses, all of which empty.

Now, just over two hours later you were climbing your way back up to the top the Gotham Bank. Nightwing would probably be gone by now. His radio silence alerting one of his birdbuddies that he’s need a save, and there’d almost certainly be a tracker in his suit. You were just checking in on him. Not because you care. Just because, if he was still where you’d left him, maybe you could set him free and cool him off. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t help with your predicament, but tracking down The Riddler would be a whole lot easier without Nightwing on the war path to put you back behind bars.

Per your suspicions, when you reach the roof, it’s empty. It’s not safe to linger, to return to the crime scene for too long, so you ready yourself to take off again. It’s when you’re stepping onto the ledge that you spot it. Something shiny and green, glinting in the corner of your eye. Upon closer inspection you release it’s a coin, made of some kind of green bottle, with a question mark engraved onto it, sitting right where Nightwing had been just a few hours earlier, and above it, a note, duct tape to the pole which read:

Blue Bird: Missing Want it back? Bring your coins, To the racetrack.

Well fuck.

Patterns, The Riddler/henchman reader, Multi chapter successor to Stockholm Syndrome

Eat, sleep, repeat. Lather, rinse, repeat. You’d be tracking target number 1 for 9 days, and besides a lonely weekend filled with racking up credit card debt at T.J.Maxx, and failed attempts at home cooking, it had been the SAME THING, every, single, day.

Pursing your lips, you lean back against the driver’s seat and let out a long sigh. You glance back up at the targets window before checking the time again. 10:01PM

You tap your fingers against the wheel before pulling out your phone. Ed is notoriously bad at picking up, (also notoriously bitter, if you don’t answer on the first ring) but you didn’t want to call it a night without checking in with him. He's your boss after all.

Dialling his current burner number and hitting loudspeaker, you sink down in your seat, studiying the cars roof as you wait for it to ring out.

“Hello?” You shoot back up. Startled by his answering on the 4th ring. Guess there’s a first time for anything.

“Oh…. Ed, hey, hi.” You stammer, trying to find your bearings again. “Um, so, riddle for you?”

“A riddle for me?” He scoffs, amused. maybe you're delusional but there seems to be a warmth in his tone. “This should be good.”

“Yeah, um, so…. If you're a child, you know me well, and when you're old I'll be your hell. I'm often felt but rarely shown. I'll drive you mad if you're alone.”

“Is the target sleeping now?”

“You didn’t answer the riddle!”

“Because it was an insult.” He scorns you before repeating. “Is the target sleeping?”

“Yeah. She crashes at about this time most nights.” You state factually. Trying not to let his sharpness get to you.

“Well….” He seems to hesitate. You hear what sounds like the click of this tongue, something rustling on his line. “If you’re bored, come see me.”

“At this time of night?” You begin to tease. “Ed, what will people think?”

Your joking might have been more convincing if it wasn’t punctuated by the sound of your engine starting before you proceed to speed down the road.

“I think a better question might be, ‘what are you thinking’?”

It wasn’t fair that you had started this line of conversation, but he was the one making you flushed. Especially since he wasn’t even there. In his presence you can blame it on his proximity, his scene, the intensity of his gaze when he’s focused solely on you for once, but he wasn’t here, and you had nothing to blame but your big fat crush on him. The silver lining at least was that he couldn’t see what he had done to you.

“I’m thinking….” You hesitated, unsure how to get him back. “I’m thinking, I’ll be there in 10.”

You hang up. He's sure to chew you out for that later, but it was worth it. You could just picture the tantrum he was having right now, leg stamping, and arms crossed. Probably muttering to himself, coming up with a sly comeback for then you arrived.

You’d been working for The Riddler for 6 and a half months now, and while he knew exactly how to use your infatuation with him to keep your moral compass spinning, you were slowly learning how to push his buttons right back.

Later

15 minutes later you lean against his desk, watching intently as he scans through your notes.

You watch greedily as his blue eyes bore into each word, deft fingers flipping through the pages, watch the way he stuck out his soft lower lip, still pouting at your earlier antics.

“So, what do you want with her anyway?” You try so spark a conversation.

“You’ve been monitoring her for almost two weeks.” He replies, refusing to look up at you. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

Your brows scrunch together as you think back, racking your brain for anything remotely remarkable about the woman you’d been tailing. She was pretty, sure, but besides that she didn’t really seem to have anything going for her. Dead end job, no real friends, no romantic prospects, just her and her cat.

Not totally unlike yourself 7 months ago.

You briefly study Ed’s fave for any form of a giveaway, but his nose remains buried in your notes. With a shrug you conceded.

“I give up. What is it?”

Almost immediately Ed’s face began to morph. The corners of his lips curving into a coy smile, his eyes sparkle as he finally looks up at you.

“It’s her blood.” He answers, finally closing your notebook and unceremoniously letting it fall onto his desk.

“Her blood?” you quiz, more confused than ever. “What? Is she like a metahuman or something?”

“Oh no.” He says, making no attempt to conceal the amusement in his voice.

His fingers brush against your own as he locks his hands around your wrist. A jolt shoots up your body, but you push it down, steadying yourself to his touch.

You watch as he flips your arm around, baring your wrist to him. Gently he runs his fingers along your veins. “It’s blue. Her blood is blue. A member of the Finnish royal family, attempting to live like common people. Do whatever common people do.”

“Right.” Your voice shakes more than you would have liked. Even the smallest of touches from him are enough to melt your brain. “And what do you want with her? Money? O-“

Your questions were silenced as Ed brings your wrist to his face. Briefly pressing it to his nose and inhaling with a satisfied smile.

“Come now, Dear.” He silences you with the soft brush of his lips against your skin. You suck in a breath, fingers digging into the wood beneath you as you watch. Your concerns were long gone as he looks up at you, his studious gaze locked onto you as he pressed another, firmer kiss inches above the last. “I already gave you my word, did I not?”

In lieu of a response, a breathy moan escape your lips. Ed is clearly pleased with your response to his affection. Standing from his chair, he continued pressing progressively fevered kisses up your arm, over the curve of your shoulder, into the crevice of your collar.

His gloved hands gently cupped the curve of your hips. His fingers traced circles against your body as they dip lower, and lower until they're hooked under your knees. He plants one deep, open-mouthed kiss against your jaw as he pries your legs apart.

“Did I not, give you my word?” He pushes, his breath brushing against your ear. The feel of his lips curving into a smug smile that tickles your skin.

Flustered, but determined not to turn into a total puddle, you stroke your hand up his spine, thread your fingers into his hair, and direct his face to yours. Heads together, noses brushing, you answer; “yes.”

“Yes?” He raises one brow at you. His hands climb back up your thighs until they’re kneading at your asscheeks before pulling you closer. Your legs lock around his waist as you feel the pressure of his tented trousers press against you centre.

“Oh, yes.” Your exclaim again, arching your back to press yourself deeper against him.

You close the gap before he can. You didn’t miss the way his eyes widened before they fluttered closed. You may have initiated but it takes no time at all for Ed to take control. Your jaw grows slack at the pressure building between you legs, and Ed wastes no time taking advantage. His tongue shamelessly diving between your lips, filling your senses with the taste of him.

As soon as it starts, the moment is over. He breaks away to the sound of his phone ringing. Eyes never leaving yours as he brings it to his ear. Trust him to start answering his phone promptly when its least convenient for your.

“Speak.” He orders. His shoulders lean back, one hand resting on his hip as he mindlessly continues grinding against you. Desperate to keep him close you reach out to him, running your fingers up his chest, incidentally untucking his shirt.

“What?!” His outburst makes you jump. Abruptly, he pulls away from you completely. “Are you a complete and utter moron? How could you let this happen?”

With him now out of reach, all you can do is sit and watch patiently. You'd hate to be on the receiving end of it, but you have to admit, Edward can be really sexy when he was angry. Lean muscles taut; jaw clenched. You’d never admit that to him though, his ego is already 3 sizes to large.

So lost in your ill-advised admiration you almost didn’t notice when he gestures to you. Gloved hands waved in you face until you nod to express your attention. He points over at the pitiful stack of junk you call a desk, huddled in the corning of his office.

Hopping off his work bench you make your way over to it, looking over at Edward for further guidance. In response he lifts two fingers. You raise the file for target number 2 and waved it at him. He nods back at you and gives you a thumbs up, before waving you to the door.

“I cannot believe this. I swear if you want a job done….”

Was he dismissing you? What could possibly be going on that he could shrug you off so indifferently?

Some people have all the luck [Part 2], Two-Face, smut CWs: Dubious consent, alcohol

The trip from the bar to wherever this is had been a blur. You vaguely remember complaining about your tired feet getting wet in the dreary Gotham weather. Two-Face laugh at you then, pulled you closer and told you; “Don’t worry about it, Doll.”

Then there had been a car, an old, classy one. The streetlights blurred by the rain on the windows. At some point he’d carried you, bridal style through somewhere old and dusty. You just remember old hanging light fixtures dangling from a high ceiling. There’s been voices, muffled snickering until Harv had barked at them, something loud and authoritative. A little bit sexy.

Now you were here, legs dangling off the edge of a desk. The wallpaper is peeling. Diplomas and newspaper clippings hang on the wall in broken, lopsided frames. Harvey is pouring something amber coloured into a tumbler, whiskey, probably, he seems like a whiskey drinker.

With the imposing thought in mind that this might be your last chance, you ask him for a drink of your own.

“Nah.” He looks smug as he approaches. He downs the two-finger pour in one, faces contorting as it slides down his throat. Then he’s standing before you, guiding your legs open, making space for him to stand between him. You’re not sure which is more unnerving, the ease in which he touches and directs your body, or your willingness to allow it. As he speaks again, you catch a whiff of his breath, definitely whiskey. “You’ve had enough, if you’re gonna pass out tonight, it’s gonna be because of us.”

He probably means torture, but the idea of him fucking you unconscious sends a wave of arousal to your already heated core.

---

Allowing you zero time to get good look at, he sinks the tip between your folds, pumping the wetness along his length before lining himself up with your entrance. You suck in a breath as he penetrates you, bottoming out with one hard thrust, stretching your walls around his noticeably thick girth. The sheer size of him pushing against every inch of your insides stings, makes you throw your head back with an aching moan.

No sooner do you look away before his grabs your face with his scarred hand, nails dig into your skin as he compels you to look into his face. He whistles, short and sweet before ordering; “Eyes on us, hon.”

His scolding has you twitching around him, having allowed you a grace period to adjust to his size.

“Yes.” You nod, not trusting your mouth to coherently say anything else.

“Good girl.”

Untitled, Harvey Bullock, fluff

If you see something, no you didn’t. That’s number one unspoken rule of Gotham.

But after witnessing what happened to the poor boy, you just couldn’t stay quiet. Now the city was punishing you by having your witness statement be taken by the hottest cop the GCPD had to offer. Sure, he was rough around edges, scruffy beard, beer belly and an Irish American accent to die for. He was definitely a drunk, that much was evident from the hint of whisky on his breath but damn if that didn’t add to his bruiser charm.

Untitled, [DBD] Leatherface, Horror & smut – partly inspired by that scene from TCM2 CWs: Mentions of gore

How long would this go on for? Until he was finished? Until he grew bored of you? And then what? He could drive his saw straight into within second, the sound of him revving its engine would serve as your only warning before he mutilated you, before he swung forward and carved your body in two. It's not as if you could just take off right now. He had you completely cornered. Not just geographically, but physically – leather face is 6'3 and jacked. A single flinch in a direction he didn't like and he could have you pinned, sawed, and quartered in second.

(Re-)Learning to swim, Jason Voorhees, Fluff CWs: Captivity, mentions of violence

Taking a deep breath, you creep deeper into the lake, submerging yourself up to your waist. The water looks so peaceful and calm. Before Jason, water had been your one true love. Swimming had given you an escape from the trials of everyday life.

Jason was the opposite, and you completely understood why. You're heart clenched at the thought of it. Even before you'd come to know and love him, you'd felt compassion for his story. Jason didn't deserve what happened to him. Blood hadn't been spilt that day but it stained the hands of the incompetent counsellor that night. Water it seemed had always been his foe. He drowned here in one life, was chained and trapped beneath its waves in another.

You understood why he avoided it. He was always vigilant of it, he had traps and weapons to take down anyone who tried swim to sail away from him without having to venture to deep, but walking beside the Lake, taking a boat out, or simply swimming in it, was never something you could get him to agree to during the small times the two of you had the area to yourselves.

So, you were going to do it alone. You were reclaiming a part of yourself, doing something just for you.

It was late May, a few weeks before police did their final searches, ticking the last few boxes before they let counsellors in to start setting up camp. You waited until Jason left to do his own rounds before slipping out into the darkness. He wouldn't have let you go if you'd told him your plan. He'd have crossed his arms and shaken his head at you. If that failed he's have held you, crushing you in his loving embrace as a way of begging you not to go, not to the Lake, to dangerous, and you would have caved. Listening to his sad hums, looking into his pleading eyes would have swayed you to stay home.

You had to wait until he left. No doubt he'd know, he seems to have some kind of connection to the camp and its goings on. He'll know where you've been and what you've been doing and he'll watch you even closer, but it needed to be done.

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reloha · 1 year ago

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Jacobi and McKellen as grand marshals of New York City's 2015 pride march.

All Good Omens (show) fans will know Derek Jacobi as the Metatron. His brief role on Doctor Who is also getting a lot of mention in recent posts, but I'm not going to talk about any of that.

Like his Vicious co-star Ian McKellen, Jacobi has had a long and illustrious career in theatre, television, and film. McKellen and Jacobi met when they were at Cambridge.

I'm not a huge fan of the Daily Mail, but this article, an interview with the two actors, is quite interesting. I'll just quote this part:

Jacobi says he came out to his mother when he was at university. ‘She said, “All young men, go through this phase, don’t worry.” I remember saying, “Don’t tell Dad.”’ He doesn’t know to this day if she did. ‘I think she did, but I don’t know. But they were wonderful, my parents, not much was said but they kind of knew, they got it.’

McKellen hasn’t heard his friend talk of this before. ‘That’s the first time I’ve heard that,’ he says, genuinely moved. ‘I never came out to my family. Biggest regret of my life.’ It turns out he didn’t even come out to Derek at university, even though it’s always been reported that he had something of a crush on him.

‘Yes, I did fancy Derek, but I didn’t act on it, God, no. It was illegal, remember. I do get on my high horse about it, because it was so difficult. There were no gay clubs you could go to. No gay bars, no gay newspaper, nothing. What there was was a bit sleazy, I suspect. One of the reasons I became an actor was that you could meet gay people. Even then everything was difficult. When you went to America they asked, “Are you now, or have you ever been, homosexual?” I lied on the form. It was a different world.’

I want to talk about Vicious for a bit, the ITV britcom in which Derek Jacobi and Ian McKellen play an aging gay couple, (respectively) a homemaker, Stuart Bixby, and an actor, Freddie Thornhill, for fourteen episodes.

Freddie (McKellen) tells Stuart (Jacobi) about a part he's hoping to get.

I had to add these for the Broadchurch reference.

It's a law that British actors of a certain age play this part.

I couldn't find one with Michael Sheen and the skull, but here he is in the role.

McKellen did the part again at 81 in an age-blind production.

Jacobi's big breakout was the titular role in I, Claudius on the BBC in 1976.

In the '90s, Jacobi played amateur sleuth and 12th century monk, Brother Cadfael on the ITV series.

I had watched some of Vicious before, but, spurred on by Jacobi's reappearance on Good Omens, looked for it again and watched both seasons a couple of weeks ago. Because I love a good fancast and Jacobi and Sheen (at least as Aziraphale) remind me a little of each other, I couldn't help but think that Jacobi and McKellen in their youth could have played a version of Aziraphale and Crowley. (There have been a couple of posts noting this about Jacobi, and that he might have been up for the part if it had been done soon after the book came out.)

Jacobi, left, and McKellen, right (obviously).

I also think that Tennant and Sheen could have pulled off playing Freddie and Stuart in a flashback.

An even younger version of Freddie and Stuart does appear in the series, however, played by Luke Treadaway and Samuel Barnett.

Also good casting! They do a great job playing McKellen and Jacobi playing Freddie and Stuart.

Shoutout to this post by @ember-knights, that suggested Good Omens fans should check out Vicious for a glimpse of what life in the South Downs cottage might be. And also to other posts mentioning Vicious and Good Omens in the same breath, as well as comparing Sheen and Tennant to Jacobi and McKellen (which I probably reblogged but can't find right now).

Cast of Vicious: Frances de la Tour, Iwan Rheon, Philip Voss, Ian McKellen, Derek Jacobi, Marcia Warren (Wikipedia). (Yes, the upstairs neighbor (Rheon) does go on to play Ramsay Bolton on Game of Thrones. He's a sweetheart in this, though.)

Now, I don't think Crowley and Aziraphale are the same as Freddie and Stuart, by any means. Freddie and Stuart say quite cruel things to each other. The characters become deeper in the second season; it’s a little sweeter than the first. I enjoy the bitterness of the first season too, though. It is funny, and Good Omens fans may enjoy watching it if only to see Derek Jacobi (who plays the Metatron) in a comedy role and a role that's sympathetic, especially if they are not familiar with his large and impressive body of work.

I don't think Aziraphale and Crowley's life in the bookshop as a couple, not just a group of two, or life on the South Downs, would be exactly like this, but there are somehow some similarities that I don't even know how to begin to pinpoint or explicate.

Crowley and Aziraphale’s affection is always so palpable and that’s not always clear with Freddie and Stuart. Crowley and Aziraphale are so loving that, even when they're bickering, it's joyful, even when they're arguing, even when they're coming apart (temporarily) at the seams, their love is undeniable. I don’t even think their breakup was toxic; although they were desperate at that point and hurt each other badly, it wasn't what they wanted. Sometimes it's that way.

And, lest I'm putting you off Vicious here, the Ineffable Husbands are a high bar as love stories go, but you will get to see some love and affection between Freddie and Stuart too, and I'd really love to see these actors work together more. (I am happy with how the show ends up, by the way.)

Toodle-loo! Hope everything is tickety-boo with you.

#Good Omens spoilers #Good Omens #Good Omens viewpoints #Derek Jacobi #Ian McKellen #Vicious #Derek Jacobi appreciation post #***Good Omens #tickety boo

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kikyoupdates · 1 month ago

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Infatuated ⭑˚💌⭑ 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑛𝑑

yandere!bnha x reader

yandere, reverse harem, bnha x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you can’t help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister?

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If someone had asked you a few hours ago how you would be spending your day, you could never have predicted it would be like this.

There's a man in front of you, so incredibly gaunt that you might’ve mistaken him for a skeleton. His cheeks are completely sunken in, practically hollow, and nearly every time he speaks, blood spews out of his mouth.

This man is the greatest hero in the world, All Might.

Honestly, you're still struggling to make sense of it. Today has been one big series of misadventures. Starting with Katsuki’s merciless bullying of Izuku at school, then being attacked by some slime villain that attempted to take Izuku’s body hostage, to finally being rescued by All Might—only to discover that there's far more to him than meets the eye.

Izuku is especially horrified, since he’s idolized All Might for as long as you can remember.

“But... how?” he gapes. “Are you really All Might? No... it can’t be real. I just don’t understand how this could possibly be true...”

You can't really believe it either, at least not until All Might lets out a weary sigh and lifts up his shirt, revealing a gruesome wound that has you wondering how he's even still alive right now. Apparently, he got that injury from a villain several years ago, and the aftereffects are so severe that it has permanently weakened him. You're used to seeing the All Might that everyone else knows—that blindingly-bright, impressively muscular man who never stops smiling, no matter what. But the All Might standing in front of you right now couldn't be any more different. He isn't smiling, nor does he give off the impression of someone you can entrust with your life.

He isn't superhuman. He is flawed and weak, just like the average person.

“I can’t work as a hero for more than three hours per day,” All Might explains grimly. “That’s my limit. I was trying so hard to get away from you kids... but I guess the secret’s out now. This is my true form. My body just isn’t what it used to be. I’ve kept this hidden from the public, because I can only imagine how frightened people would be if they found out about my current state. No matter what, the Symbol of Peace cannot succumb to the forces of evil.”

Izuku splutters hopelessly. “But... but... whenever you save people, you’re always smiling and laughing. You always look so sure of yourself, and—”

“The reason I laugh isn’t because I’m not scared. I do it to distract myself from the constant fear and pressure weighing me down. Pro heroes must always put their lives on the line. It’s an incredibly dangerous job, and I doubt you’d ever find a hero who doesn’t get scared.” All Might pauses, then flashes Izuku a sympathetic look. “Earlier, you asked me if someone who is Quirkless can still become a hero. Knowing what I know about the hero profession, and all the dangers that come with it... I just can’t in good conscience bring myself to tell you that it’s possible.”

The second All Might utters those words, all the color drains from Izuku’s cheeks. You can see that he’s broken out into a cold sweat, and he's struggling to breathe evenly, veering dangerously close to a state of hyperventilation.

“I... see,” is all he manages to respond, staring blankly at the ground.

All Might tries to force a smile, but it isn't very reassuring. “If you care about saving people, you can always go into police work. The police don’t often receive the acknowledgment they deserve, but it is nonetheless an admirable profession. I can’t possibly condemn someone that has a dream. It’s a good thing to push yourself and try to reach your goals. But at the same time... you have to see reality for what it is, kid.”

Just like that, he leaves, and you can tell that Izuku’s entire world has just shattered.

Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him and squeeze tight. “Don’t listen to him,” you try to encourage. “Just because there aren’t any Quirkless heroes yet doesn’t mean there can’t be. It’s okay, Izuku. You can still try. Nothing is set in stone.”

Under ordinary circumstances, this might've worked. Granted, it isn't as if you can just snap your fingers and make everything okay all of a sudden, but you normally succeed in pacifying Izuku whenever he's going through a particularly rough patch. After hugging him and consoling him for a while, he usually calms down.

Unfortunately, this situation is far from ordinary, and thus, your attempts fall flat.

“Thanks, [Name].” Izuku’s eyes are already bloodshot and brimming with tears. He is thanking you, but you aren't even sure what for, considering how utterly broken he looks. “I’ll... be alright. All Might isn’t wrong. I need to see reality for what it is. I’ve been such an idiot, all this time.”

After staring into his vacant, tear-filled gaze, you feel like crying. But you don't , because that's the last thing Izuku needs right now. What use would you be if he ends up having to console you instead? For his sake, you have to stay positive.

Or at the very least, look it.

For a brief moment, you even consider using your Quirk to try and cheer him up. To put him under your control and make his mind dissociate, so that he won't have to feel the full intensity of his emotions right now. But doing that feels wrong, somehow. Especially if you don't have his explicit permission. In this moment, the most you can possibly do is keep on hugging him and make it abundantly clear just how much you believe in him, until he finally believes in himself.

Still. It just isn't fair. What has Izuku done to deserve any of this? Is it really not enough that people like Katsuki keep tormenting him? Why is he now forced to watch his biggest role model turn his back on him?

You are only fourteen years old, but you're realizing just how incredibly shitty life can be for some people.

“I’m okay,” Izuku insists, although his expression is practically blank by now. “I’m really okay, [Name]. You don’t need to worry.”

You smile weakly. “I know you are. Because you will become a hero. Today’s just been rough. Tomorrow will be better. I promise.”

You refuse to let go of his hand while you walk. Part of you is worried that once you do, you might lose him forever. You fear that he might finally succumb to all the pressure and give up on his dream. Give up on everything.

As it just so happens, though, life presents you with an opportunity. You hear loud chatter and spot a crowd of people gathered together. It doesn't take long for you to realize that all those people are probably watching heroes go head-to-head with a villain, and so, you pull Izuku in their direction, hoping that it will reignite the flame inside him that is on the verge of being snuffed.

“Look, Izuku,” you beam. “I wonder who’s fighting today? Let’s watch the heroes kick some villain butt!”

He's dragging his feet and looks visibly unenthusiastic, but old habits are hard to quit. Even as dejected as he is right now, he still can't stop himself from following you. It makes you hopeful that despite everything All Might said to him, he's still determined to do what he always dreamed of.

It was your intention to lift his spirits, but in the process of pulling him along, you end up doing the exact opposite.

There he is again—the slime villain that attacked the two of you earlier. But it just doesn't make any sense. You know for a fact that All Might captured him. Does that mean that he must have escaped at some point?

“It’s my fault,” Izuku gasps, hurrying to clamp his palms over his mouth. “Oh god,” he breathes shakily, voice muffled. “All Might must have dropped him or something! If only I hadn’t been so selfish and just stayed out of his business!”

You don't know what to say. Of course, you don't believe Izuku is to blame, but you are too petrified to say a damn word.

Because the slime villain’s latest victim isn't just anyone—it's someone you know very, very well.

Katsuki!

He's struggling with all his might, desperately fighting to stay conscious and resist succumbing to the villain. Katsuki is strong. He has always been strong. Even so, that doesn't make him indestructible. And right now, as he struggles to get enough air to even breathe, you can tell that he's terrified beyond words.

You want to help. You really, really do, but your previous experience with the slime villain already proved that you're helpless to do a damn thing.

More than anything, you're afraid of what might happen to you if you even try.

Izuku, however, is different. Which is why, while you stand there, frozen stiff from fear, Izuku has already started running.

You cry out to him, try to tell him that it's too dangerous, but he isn't listening. Despite being Quirkless, you know that Izuku is already more of a hero than most people could ever hope to be. That's why he doesn't hesitate for a moment to try and save someone, even when all the odds are stacked against him.

His bravery and selfless nature are what manage to finally spur you onwards, but when you try to run after him, one of the heroes on site pulls you back.

“Don’t!” he insists. “What that kid just did was incredibly reckless! You’re not going anywhere! You could get seriously hurt!”

The hero holds you in place, and you thrash and try to break free, even though you aren't a match for his strength. All the while, Izuku is doing everything he can possibly think of to try and free Katsuki from the slime villain. He throws his backpack at him, frantically pulls and claws at the slime to try and give Katsuki enough room to breathe—just anything.

He must be scared. So scared that he probably can't even think straight, but even so, he doesn't give up.

As a result, he manages to move the heart of a man who was convinced he’d already reached his limit for the day.

All Might appears out of nowhere, back in the broad, muscular state you're used to seeing him in. Blood is spewing out of his mouth, so you can tell that he's pushing himself beyond measure, but that's because he and Izuku are one and the same. When faced with someone who is in dire need of help, they both have a tendency to act first, and think later.

With All Might on the scene, the slime villain doesn't last much longer. You look on with tears in your eyes, shoulders sagging from relief when Izuku and Katsuki are finally both rescued. The villain’s amorphous body has splattered all over the place from the pressure of All Might’s punch, and it's safe to say that he’s been immobilized for good.

It's over. This hellish day has finally come to an end.

“Oh, Izuku,” you whimper, rushing straight over and wrapping him in a hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack! I was so scared of what might happen to you...”

He chuckles weakly, blushing while he leans into your touch. “I-I’m okay. I know what I did was reckless, but... seeing Kacchan like that, I couldn’t possibly ignore him. His eyes looked they were pleading for help.”

“No, you did the right thing,” you insist. “You bought Katsuki enough time for All Might to act. You might’ve even been the one that inspired him to do so. I wish I could’ve run to help right away, like you did... but I was too scared. I’ve clearly still got a long way to go.”

“That’s giving me too much credit. I really couldn’t accomplish anything on my own...”

You expect that Izuku will be praised for his bravery, but instead, he is met with nothing but reprimands from some of the other heroes who reacted to the crisis. They berate him for charging headfirst into danger, without any concern for his own well-being. You try to point out that if not for Izuku, Katsuki might have already been done in by the time All Might showed up, but they aren't having it.

On the other hand, from what you can tell, Katsuki is being showered with praise. His explosion Quirk is incredibly powerful, and that, paired with his resilience and tough nature, has clearly made a strong impression on the pros. They're all amazed that he held out for so long against the slime villain, when most people would hardly have lasted a few minutes.

Katsuki is amazing, no doubt about it, but there's no mistaking how afraid he looked back there. No matter how headstrong and fearless he tries to act, at heart, he's still only a fourteen-year-old boy.

For that reason, you figure that what he needs most of all right now is not to be praised incessantly, but for someone to show him some genuine concern.

You hug Izuku one last time, stand up, then begin walking in Katsuki’s direction.

Unfortunately, you don't make it very far.

“Stay back,” Katsuki grits out, the veins in his forehead threatening to burst. “I know what’s going on in that stupid head of yours. I can tell based on that goddamn pitying expression you have. Stay back before I get really fucking mad.”

You want to show him that you care. Even if he is horrible to Izuku at times, especially earlier today, he's still your long-time friend. You doubt you'll ever lose the soft spot you have for him. Is it really too much to ask that he lets his guard down and accepts your consideration, for crying out loud?

“Katsuki—”

“No,” he spits. “Shut the fuck and march back to shitty Deku’s side. He’s the one you’re so obssesed with anyways.”

You shamefully look down at your feet. It seems like it's pointless to even try. No matter what you do , no matter what Izuku does, Katsuki keeps interpreting it as an insult. Izuku just tried to save his life, and yet Katsuki is still glaring at him as though he’s somehow been wronged.

None of it makes any sense, and it hurts to feel like things will never go back to the way they used to be.

Heeding Katsuki’s words, you trudge back over to Izuku. It's time to leave. It's been a long, incredibly tiring day, for you too, but Izuku especially. He needs to get some rest and put all of this behind him.

Right before you leave the scene, Katsuki makes sure to glare viciously in your direction one last time.

“I never asked you to help me, piece of trash Deku,” he grits out. “I didn’t need your help. Got it? In fact, I saved myself. You didn’t do a goddamn thing! So, don’t expect me to owe you or some shit. You seriously piss me the hell off. Stay out of my life from now on and mind your fucking business.”

Neither you nor Izuku say anything in response. A rational-minded person would have said ‘thanks’, or even, ‘I really appreciated what you tried to do.’ But Katsuki is just too stuck in his ways. He's determined to always make things out to be negative. He refuses to ever acknowledge that even he needs help sometimes.

Katsuki’s lack of gratitude just makes Izuku’s sacrifice that much more noble, because you know for a fact he didn't expect anything in return.

“You really are amazing, Izuku.” You smile gently, reaching down to grab his hand again. “I mean, the fact that you tried to save Katsuki without even thinking twice about it, even after he hurt you earlier today and said all those horrible things. That’s exactly why I know you’ll become a hero. Most people wouldn’t have been able to save someone who’d bullied them for so many years.”

Izuku stares down at your hand and admires the way your fingers are interlocked with his. Unless you're imagining it, he looks like he's feeling a bit better now. At the very least, his expression isn't hollow and lifeless anymore. Perhaps he's just relieved that Katsuki is safe, or maybe he feels a small sense of pride over his heroic feat earlier. You have no way of knowing for sure.

The two of you walk in silence, and neither of you seems willing to let go of the other’s hand. Izuku still can't forget All Might’s words from earlier, and even though he tried to help his former friend, he knows that still isn't enough for him to become a hero. He realizes now that without a Quirk, it's nothing but a baseless dream.

Still, he's comforted by the fact that you think he's amazing. Maybe he can strive to become a police officer, like All Might suggested. He can still save people that way, and as long as you are by his side, then...

Perhaps that alone is enough.

Of course, you are none the wiser as to what thoughts are going through Izuku’s head. You don't know just how much he's fixating on you and placing you on a pedestal, unintentionally relying on you as his sole source of motivation and happiness. It's never a good thing for any one person to depend wholly on another, and if not for All Might’s sudden appearance, Izuku might have fallen further into his obsessive thoughts.

“All Might?!” Izuku cries out. “But... what are you doing here? I could’ve sworn you were surrounded by reporters back there...”

“I gave them the slip,” All Might chuckles. “I’m still the Number One hero, you know. More importantly, I had some things I wanted to say. Or rather, some corrections regarding what I said earlier.”

You cock a brow, and Izuku can't help but do the same. Well, he’s come all this way for a reason, so you suppose you have no choice but to hear him out. You just hope he won't say more depressing stuff that would completely crush Izuku’s soul.

However, much to your surprise, All Might doubles back and basically retracts his previous words. He admits to being inspired by Izuku’s courage and willingness to help save his friend, despite being Quirkless. Unlike before, All Might has nothing but praise for him. He apologizes for having dismissed him so quickly and recognizes that Quirk or not, Izuku has the heart of a hero.

“You can become a hero.”

They're the same words you've repeated to Izuku for the past ten years, but hearing them from a hero like All Might is understandably more impactful. Izuku is so moved that he can't help but crumple to his knees, and even though he was already crying, this time, they are happy tears.

You wrap your arms around him. Overwhelmed by emotion, it doesn't take long for you to start crying too.

You would be lying if you said you expected to hear from him again today. After all, you didn't exactly leave things off on a good note. But you are a forgiving person by nature, and again, you can't find it in you to completely resent Katsuki, even after all the scummy things he’s already done.

Perhaps you shouldn’t keep giving him more chances, but you do it anyways.

It's very much like him not explain anything and stick to his stubbornness. Honestly, though, in light of recent news, you're in a really good mood. You thought for sure that today would suck all the way until the end, but it had actually been rather incredible.

All Might has chosen Izuku as his successor, and he is going to pass his Quirk onto him.

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you heard him utter those words. You thought he was making things up just to screw with the both of you. But no, apparently All Might’s Quirk—One for All—is the type of Quirk that can be passed down from one person to the next. Izuku is going to have to train his butt off to get stronger, but if he succeeds, then he'll have a Quirk waiting for him.

He isn't going to be Quirkless anymore, and the thought makes you so happy that you can hardly stop grinning.

“What’s with that stupid look on your face?” Katsuki snaps. He's obviously peeved by how chipper you are, but unfortunately, you can't tell him why. All Might has sworn both you and Izuku to secrecy. One for All is purely confidential, and you aren't allowed to tell anyone, not even your own parents.

Still, you physically can't wipe your smile off your face. Things are finally looking up for Izuku, and it's impossible to contain your excitement.

“I watched a funny show earlier,” you brush off. “I can’t stop thinking about it. Anyways, what’s up? Why’d you call me out here?”

For some reason, Katsuki glances away, unwilling to look you in the eye.

“Deku didn’t save me,” he finally mutters. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t get any stupid ideas.”

“Huh? Are you still on about that?”

You blink repeatedly. He really is ridiculous. When is he going to realize that he's way too fixated on Izuku? It isn't healthy. Izuku is perfectly content to just do his own thing and be nice to everyone. Katsuki's the one who keeps going out of his way to harass him for no reason. Back when he was younger, he always used to say that Izuku was obsessed with him, but it's so clearly the other way around.

Still, you're in a really good mood right now, and you refuse to let Katsuki put a damper on it.

“Okay, Katsuki.” You nod patiently and smile. “Izuku didn’t save you, it’s true. All Might was the one who saved you. Izuku was worried about you, because you know that’s just how he is. He worries about everyone. But I know he isn’t the one who defeated the slime villain or anything, so can we please just put this past us?”

Katsuki clenches his fists. “And I’m saying that he had no reason to worry about me, because I was just fucking fine! All he ever does is look down on me. It’s like he thinks I’m this weak-ass bitch, and he’s so much better than I am.”

“No,” you frown. “Like I said, he worries about everyone, not just you. You’re not the exception, Katsuki. Some people tend to worry more than others. That’s just the kind of person he is. Just because you’re strong doesn’t mean people can’t worry about you. I don’t get why you think it’s such a bad thing. It shows that they care. It means that they value you. It doesn’t mean they think you’re below them.”

“I don’t need anyone to worry about me—least of all a Quirkless weakling like him,” he spits.

You really don't know what else to say. You're always running in circles with this guy. He's just too tied up in his flawed way of thinking. He believes that any sort of concern directed his way is automatically some form of mockery. You wish you could help him think more clearly, but you just don't know how.

“I care about you, Katsuki. I care about you, and that means I worry too. Even though I know you’re so much stronger than I am. Don’t you see that it’s not about being strong or weak? I care about you because you’re important to me. It’s just that simple.”

For just a moment, Katsuki’s eyes widen, and he looks like he's finally starting to understand.

He raises your hopes, only to immediately dash them.

“I’m important to you,” he swallows. He's thankful for the dark of night, otherwise you would’ve noticed that he's blushing right now. “You mean that, right?”

“Of course I do,” you nod. “I’ve known you for so long. You’re still my friend.”

Katsuki just stares at you, and there's something weirdly ominous about the way he does it, without so much as blinking once.

“If I’m so important to you, then tell Deku you never want to see him again.”

“What?”

You can't help the gasp that leaves your lips. Seriously, what in the world is he on about now? There's no way you're ever going to do something like that. He's acting crazy.

“You know that’s never going to happen,” you grimace. “Just stop it, Katsuki. If that’s your idea of a joke, it really isn’t funny.”

Katsuki’s eyes are completely wide. “Who said I was joking? You’re the one who started running your mouth about how important I am to you and all that shit. So, I’m calling your bluff. If I was actually important to you, then you would cut that shitty nerd out of your life, because you know just how much he gets under my skin. Unless you’re saying he’s more important to you than I am.”

Before you can even muster up a response, Katsuki has already stepped closer to you. He grabs you by the hand, except unlike whenever you hold Izuku’s hand, this sensation is far from pleasant. Actually, it even borders on painful, because of how hard he keeps squeezing your fingers.

It hurts, and quite frankly, he's freaking you out.

“There’s no way you think that fucking loser is better than me... right?” Katsuki insists. He refuses to let go of your hand, despite the fact that you keep trying to shake him off. Everything about him right now, from the tone of his voice to that unsettling look in his eyes, just reeks of desperation. He only ever seems to get this desperate whenever Izuku is involved.

That's what you believe, however, the reality is slightly different.

You and Izuku together—that is what makes Katsuki’s blood boil like no other.

“Katsuki, I don’t think either of you is better or worse,” you try to explain. By now, you’ve given up on trying to push him away or make him let go of your hand. You just hope that you can get him to calm down. “Please, can you just stop this? I really want all three of us to be friends again. I hate how things turned out.”

Perhaps one day, in the distant future, the situation would improve. But if you asked Katsuki right now, he would rather die than ever make amends with that shitty freckled nerd. He hates Izuku with every fiber of his being, and not only because he's Quirkless.

Because he's stolen you from him.

“You don’t give a fuck about me,” Katsuki chuckles dryly. “I doubt you ever did. Deku was the one you always made googly eyes at. Stop pretending like you want anything to do with me. That kind of fake shit makes me sick to my goddamn stomach.”

You try to protest, but he's already walking away. He steps inside his house and slams the door shut, not even bothering to glance back in your direction.

Katsuki is gone, and you are left outside in the cold, completely alone. You raise your head and look up at the sky. It's so endlessly vast and dark. Not a single star is in sight. You know that they're out there, somewhere, hidden behind a black veil, but since you can't actually see them, it does little to comfort you.

Whatever happiness you felt earlier was clearly destined to be short-lived. The day has ended on an awful note after all.

Enjoying the story so far? Read more on Quotev and Ao3!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

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felassan · 8 days ago

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hi! first of all, love your blog, everything is so organized and there's so much info out there about everything and you having this blog makes it easier to find.

so there's something that idk if i saw on this blog or if i made up in my head and maybe you could help? I remember seeing something somewhere about how the devs or at least david gaider didn't understand why so many sided with the mages. do you know anything about that or did I made that up completely in my head?

hello! ◕‿◕ tysm for the nice comment about my blog. I'm happy that it can be helpful!!

rest of post under cut for length.

if you think you may have read it here, could you be thinking of one or some of these quotes from [this] post series? those posts are some notes I made of things which David Gaider said (pls keep that context in mind when reading the below) during some Twitch streams some years ago. as far as I know the original streamed videos are no longer available.

"The experience of a mage in the world isn’t represented or conveyed very well to the player when the player is a mage. The experience of the player when they’re playing a mage or have a mage in their party doesn’t really match up with how the world lore tells them how dangerous mages can be - for example, how they can lose control and so on, we never really have an example of a PC mage struggling with being taken over by a demon. This was originally supposed to be a subplot in DA2 for mage Hawkes, in one of the last cuts. In Act 2, mage Hawke was originally slowly being tricked by a demon in their head that they thought was real, only to realize at the last minute. Mouse the Pride demon in the mage Origin is the only time in the entire series that they really ever properly demonstrated how demons can fuck with [PC] mages. Also, PC templars were originally supposed to have a permanent lyrium addiction that they needed to ‘feed’, but this was scrapped as the system designers weren’t keen on it and felt that it was essentially handicapping the player."

"They managed to keep the Tranquil in. There was a while there where they were going to be cut. At the same time, DG regrets that they couldn’t solve the making of the player more aware of how mages are dangerous, thing. Players could make a cogent argument like “they’re not that dangerous, look at me [mage PC]” and the writers were like “well… yeah, that is fair”. It was a case of showing one thing and the player experience of it being another. DG feels that this made the templars come off worse than they are. DG feels that they are being massively unfair and too extreme in their approach to the problem, but the problem itself is a real thing. He feels that there’s some merit/truth in the argument that mages are oppressed, but he looks at it more like an issue like gun control rather than as treatment of oppressed people, saying that we don’t have an example in real life of oppressed people who can explode into demons and cast fireballs and so on."

"Going into DA2, the team had a long discussion of the themes of the game, the whole ‘security versus freedom’ argument. “Let’s try to understand the motivations of people who do things wrong. Is it possible to feel sympathy for somebody who might otherwise be labelled a terrorist? Is it possible to understand why templars might view the mages with fear?” As a whole, DA tries to encompass villains that have motives we can understand a little better. DG feels that Corypheus isn’t one of these. He’s less a villain and more an antagonist or plot device. There are certain things that they did wrong with the implementation of Cory in the game. Originally in DAI he attacked Skyhold as well as Haven. Cutting the Skyhold attack for example made him seem like less of a threat."

"There are certain spells/abilities in D&D that can make a GM’s life frustrating, such as teleportation, telling the future, resurrection. The fact that death is not permanent, for instance, should be a huge thing that affects society and how the people in it view death. This is why they were thinking stuff like “If every low-level mage in the setting had a skill like ‘Charm Person’, what would non-mages make of that?”"

or maybe something from [here], or an [old post] [random example] David Gaider made on the original official BioWare Forum? 🤔 [the forum was archived by fans on Fextralife] or could you be thinking of something that he said on his old Tumblr? [this] and [this] are links to some Tumblr blogs which archived some of the original Tumblr. it might be worth browsing through those/searching them for "mages" and suchlike in case it turns anything up. :>

apologies if nothing here is pinging as familiar. :<

#dragon age #bioware #mjs mailbag #thewardenisonthecase #video games #long post #longpost

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e-dubbc11 · 3 months ago

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Ericca...pssst...pssssst....i just read the new tattoo artist!billy fic aaaand:

Dylan's first heartbreak 👀👀👀👀

I never get tired of your asks my sweet, sweet friend but i definitely will never ever get tired of your asks for this wonderful little family. I hope you enjoy what I did here. Thank you again! ♥️

Heartbreaker

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo Artist Billy Russo x F! Reader Wife, and their son, Dylan William

Warnings: Fluff, getting dumped, couple of swear words I think?

Word Count: 2.1K-ish

Summary: Dylan experiences his first broken heart and needs a little help getting through it. His parents are there to help him.

A/N: Part of The Sweetest Pain Series

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“I didn’t know what to say to him, sweet girl. I never dated any woman long enough to have them break my heart. I always broke theirs.” Billy said with concern in his voice for his son and raised eyebrows.

“Oh I know you’re a heartbreaker from way back, Casanova.” You said and your voice dripping with sass.

Billy narrowed his eyes at you and tried to stop himself from smiling but he couldn’t. He always loved when you were a little bit spicy with him which is why he referred to you as his “little firecracker.”

But this wasn’t about Billy’s past or yours, for that matter. It was about trying to get your son to talk to you.

**********

When Billy was just your tattoo artist, you were well aware of his reputation with the ladies although Frank would let little things slip here and there about how much Billy loved tattooing you or that he cleared his schedule to make room for an appointment for you.

But you had to be protective of your heart. Billy had quite the womanizing reputation and the last thing you needed was to get hurt again like all the other past relationships in your life that had gone wrong. But he was hard to stay away from and it was difficult to not have a crush on him.

In the end, you had never been so happy to finally learn that he had deeper feelings for you other than friendship because you were now married to the man of your dreams, had two great kids, and Billy still only had eyes for you.

But right now you had a bit of a problem. Well, maybe not really a problem but a little situation that you weren’t expecting so soon from Dylan. He just had his heart broken for the first time.

One of Billy’s latest talks with his son was to tell Dylan to ease up on the playboy attitude that he clearly got from his father and even at 16, he knew full well how handsome he was. You didn’t want Dylan having the reputation in school as the class heartbreaker and he actually listened and took his father’s advice but he wasn’t expecting to be on the receiving end of a broken heart.

You remember when he came home to tell you he asked out the prettiest girl in his class, Lila, and he was really excited to take her out on a date. She was the first girl that Dylan had actually told you and Billy about, you knew there had been others but this one was different.

He seemed to really like her and after a few weeks of dating, Dylan started referring to Lila as his “girlfriend.” She had been over for dinner, was very polite, and even met and hung out with Anna Raven on a weekend she was home from college.

They were inseparable, always texting, and spending all of their spare time together. You had never seen Dylan smile so much but unfortunately, it didn’t last.

About four months after Dylan started dating Lila, you came home from work and started to cook dinner as usual. You just assumed Dylan was upstairs doing his homework or playing video games so when dinner was ready, you called him down to come eat.

Dylan replied in somewhat of an angry tone, “I’m not hungry, mom!”

Your son was always hungry, the kid had snacks upon snacks before dinner was even ready most nights and would still clean his plate.

With a narrowed expression, Billy said, “That’s strange…kid is always hungry. He eats like he has hollow legs.”

“Go check on him, baby…please?” You asked, nervously.

Billy went upstairs, was up there for a few minutes, then came back down, only to tell you that Dylan said he wasn’t hungry, he was just tired, and he had a long day between school, homework and practicing his guitar.

“It’s just not like him, Billy.” You said.

Billy shrugged.

“I can’t force it out of him, sweet girl. You know it’s not easy for Dylan to talk about things.” He said.

“Yeah, I wonder where he gets that from.” You said, sarcastically.

Your husband playfully rolled his eyes at you.

“I know, I know but let’s just let it go for now and if it keeps up, we’ll try and talk to him about whatever is bothering him, ok?” Said Billy.

“Are you trying to brush this off because you’re hungry and you wanna eat dinner?” You asked with your arms folded protectively across your chest.

“Damn, you really do know me better than anyone, don’t you, beautiful.” Billy said with a wide smile. “We’ll get to the bottom of it, I promise and Dylan’s a tough kid. He’ll be alright for tonight.”

Billy touched his forehead to yours then gave you a gentle kiss, the scent of green soap was potent on his clothes and you could feel the heat coming off of his body, through his shirt.

He always knew how to ease your tension. When his lips touched yours, you felt your shoulders relax and your stress melt away.

You just hoped your son was alright.

**********

The next two nights were the same as the previous one. Dylan told you he wasn’t hungry, Billy tried to talk to him but didn’t want to tell his father what was bothering him until the third night of skipping dinner. That was when he told Billy that Lila broke up with him.

Billy didn’t know how to respond.

“Ah buddy, I’m…sorry.” Said Billy.

Dylan raised his voice.

“I did what you and mom said I should do! I found a girl that I really liked, told her how I felt and she dumped me for it, Dad!” He yelled. “I shouldn’t have let her get to me. You’re lucky. You never let anyone get close to you except Mom and you turned out fine!”

“I don’t want you to make the same mistakes as I did, Dylan. It took me six years to even admit that I had feelings for your mother! And it was all on the account of me being a stubborn asshole.” Billy said, tensely.

Dylan continued, “Well, it’s not gonna happen to me again. Can you please just leave me alone, Dad? I wanna be alone.”

Billy did as his son asked, left his room and came back downstairs where you were anxiously waiting for him to tell you what happened.

**********

“Casanova, huh? Very funny, sweet girl.” Billy stated.

“I just want him to be ok, Billy.” You said with a slight smile.

“I tried to tell him, baby. I tried to tell him that I didn’t want him making the same mistakes I did with a womanizing attitude but he didn’t wanna listen to me. He is right though; I don’t know what it’s like to have my heart broken.” Said Billy.

You pondered for a brief minute before responding.

“Well, maybe not in that particular sense but you do know what unrequited love feels like.” You said, softly.

Billy knew you were talking about his mother.

“That’s different, sweet girl.” He said through clenched teeth.

No matter how many times it scars over, that wound left by his mother will never ever be fully healed but you would always be there to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding when he needed you to.

“You told me all about having your heart broken a few times, baby. I remember you talking about your first boyfriend and how badly you took that one. Maybe you could share that story with Dylan. It could help him feel better.” Said Billy.

“I guess it couldn’t hurt. I’ll give it a try.” You said, fixating your eyes to the top of the stairs.

Billy kissed your forehead, flashed his million-dollar smile at you, and wished you good luck.

You were going to need it.

**********

Three light knocks rapped against Dylan’s bedroom door.

“Dylan honey? Can I come in?” You asked, softly.

From behind the door, he sadly replied, “Whatever.”

“Dylan, I know what it’s like to have your heart broken.” You said, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

Mumbling into his pillow, he replied, “Dad never broke your heart, Mom.”

“You’re right but if he even thinks about it, he’s a dead man.” You replied, hoping to get a chuckle.

His shoulders moved slightly up and down. You could tell that made him laugh.

You tried to tell him how sorry you are but he wasn’t responding so you decided to tell him about how your first boyfriend dumped you. It was senior year of high school, you were 17 years old, and you had never been in a relationship before. A cute blond haired, blue eyed boy from your class kept showing up at your soccer practices as well as your games. He was also your physics lab partner.

He seemed to really like you so you started seeing each other. The two of you went to the movies, went to shoot pool, grabbed dinner, and he even picked you up for school every morning.

Things were going really well until you told him how you were feeling and said those three little words, to which he replied with absolutely nothing.

“He called me the next day to break up with me over the phone, probably so he wouldn’t have to look at me, see the tears in my eyes, or watch my bottom lip tremble as he broke my heart into a thousand pieces.” You said in barely more than a whisper.

Dylan sat up on his bed, his shoulders were hunched and his eyes were glued to the floor as he replied, “I asked Lila if she wanted to go to junior prom with me. She said that prom wasn’t for another few months and that she wasn’t sure she liked me enough to go to the prom with me.”

Even though he was 16, the thought of some girl breaking Dylan’s heart made your blood boil.

“Why that little bit—“ You had started to say before Billy burst through the door.

“AH, AH, sweet girl!” He yelled, shaking his head. “Not helpful, baby.”

You knew he was right so you composed yourself and said, “Dylan, it will get easier. If you’re meant to be, she’ll come back and if not, it just means there’s someone else out there especially for you. I was meant to be with your Dad and I just had to get through a few broken hearts first, that’s all. Going through this kind of stuff makes you stronger and sometimes life isn’t all a bunch of fluffy bunnies and unicorns. The strong always survive, just ask your Dad.”

You glanced at Billy as a wide smile stretched across your lips.

Even as a little boy, Dylan had always wanted to be just like his father, he looked up to Billy, and for not having one or a role model of what a father should be, Billy was a really great dad.

“You’re gonna be alright, buddy. Your mother is tough too, she didn’t tell you the part of the story where the next time she saw the kid who dumped her, she walked right over to him and kicked him square in the balls.” Billy said with a devilish smirk.

“Hey now! I still maintain that he kicked himself in the beans.” You said, biting back your laughter.

Dylan started to laugh as he replied, “Well Mom, now I know where Anna gets her feistiness from. She kicked that first boyfriend, Jake, in the nuts too.”

Billy said, “My two firecrackers…regular and mini.”

Dylan looked at the two of you and with a slight smile on his face, said, “Thanks Mom, thanks Dad. I think I’m starting to feel a little better.”

Time will tell if Dylan will go back to his heartbreaking ways although you hoped he wouldn’t. Setbacks are bound to happen especially after experiencing his first broken heart and it would take some time before he could give his heart away again.

You didn’t want him to completely shut himself down like Billy had done numerous times with you and sometimes still does but you didn’t want him to be completely naïve to all the Lila’s of the world either.

No matter how old he gets, Dylan will always be your baby boy and you’ll always want to protect him, Anna Raven also. But both of your children were learning to navigate their own lives with, of course, some stumbling and falling along the way but they were problem solvers, determined, tough around the edges but had kind hearts.

And you knew that whatever happened, they would pick themselves up and persevere because Russo’s never quit, they never give up, and they will always fight for what they want.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf @sweetserendipity65

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If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #billy russo x female reader #the sweetest pain series #tattoo artist billy russo #dylan william #ericca answers #ericca’s 500 follower celebration

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lilacmingi · 10 months ago

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OPPOSITES ATTRACT

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with ne ir any of my works.

Pairing: Gryffindor!Jongho x Slytherin!fem reader

Word count: 4,408

Note: Final installment in the Hogwarts AU series! If you don’t know, the Hogwarts imagines for the other members are linked at the end! Reminder that this is an imagine from my Wattpad from 2023 so there will not be extra parts or continuations

Jongho wizzed through the air, holding the Quaffle close to him as he zoomed towards the opposing team's hoops, successfully tossing the ball through the goal, scoring yet again for Gryffindor.

"Yes!" You cheered only to quickly clamp your hand over your mouth afterwards, your outburst earning you some glances from your fellow housemates.

Maybe next time you should sit with the Gryffindors—then again, you'd stand out like a sore thumb. It was hard not to cheer for Jongho. He's the best quidditch player on the whole team, watching him is enough to put you on the edge of your seat. Yes, you two are from opposing houses, but you're the best of friends and you don't let old rivalries stop you from hanging out together.

The game came to a close and Gryffindor took the victory as expected. You had to keep your excitement at bay as you exited the stands to meet with your friend on the ground, holding it in long enough to part ways with the rest of your house.

Jongho approached you looking oh-so-handsome as usual, a thin layer of sweat on his face giving him a post-victory glow.

"That was awesome!" You squeaked.

"It was nothing." He huffed.

"Nothing? Every time I watch you play I'm on the edge of my seat. Honestly, there was a couple times I wasn't sure you'd score, but you pulled through every time."

His warm laughter filled the air as his cheeks turned pink, though that could have just been from all the activity out on the field.

"You act like I'm the best player on the team."

"You are!" You said enthusiastically, giving him a light punch on the arm. "We should celebrate your victory."

"By doing what?"

"We could go to Hogsmeade and grab a butterbeer." You suggested. "My treat."

Jongho's eyes lit up.

He loved butterbeer. You could remember the first time he tried it, the fond memory replaying in your head.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

That heart-melting gummy smile of his broke out on his face as he nodded.

"Sounds good."

You and Jongho had been friends from day one, literally. You met on the train to Hogwarts and he was nervous as ever. He had only just recently found out there was magic in his family lineage and wasn't sure what to expect at Hogwarts as he had only found out it's existence a few weeks prior to the start of he school year.

"I don't know anything about this place and I'm nervous to be away from home for so long."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. You'll have fun, trust me." You told him. "I've been looking forward to this for a whole year. My older cousin told me they have entire feasts at Hogwarts. There's all sorts of food lined up on these really long tables that stretch across almost the entirety of the room."

"Wow. That sounds much better than instant ramen."

"Instant? Muggles have instant ramen?" You asked with wide eyes.

"Oh. It's not instant, it's just made in a shorter amount of time. We don't have magic so we have meals that can be made easily."

"Ooh. How long does it take?"

"Usually about three minutes unless you want to add extra stuff or cook your noodles longer."

"Three minutes is still really quick." You responded. "That's amazing."

"I guess it is." He chuckled.

Jongho thought so-called "muggle" things weren't special. After all, it's just how he goes about daily life, but seeing your reaction was amusing to him.

The both of you became friends very quickly during the duration of the train ride. You even sat together at the sorting hat ceremony, where you briefly explained what would occur.

"I hope we get into the same house together." You remember Jongho saying.

Unfortunately, you got sorted into different houses, you in Slytherin and him in Gryffindor, but that didn't bother you, nor did it stop the both of you from spending time together.

You and Jongho signed up to take a muggle appreciation class together where you paired up with each other since the professor wanted muggles or half-bloods to pair with purebloods. That was one of your favorite classes. You enjoyed learning about how muggles got through everyday life without magic as well as some of the things they had that you didn't, like pens, you found those to be quite fascinating. Your professor had a few and allowed everyone to try them out to see what they thought. You loved the pen and wondered why the school never used them instead of quills.

"You did so good at the game yesterday." You told Jongho.

He smiled, looking down bashfully. "Thanks."

"You're the best quidditch player at Hogwarts." You continued praising him.

Jongho was visibly holding back a bright grin, doing his best to keep it concealed as he fiddled with the packaging of his chocolate frog he purchased from the candy trolley.

"I get so caught up in the game. I'm sure my housemates want to kick me out." You chuckled.

He had seen you cheering him on many times before, even when Slytherin was against Gryffindor. It warmed his heart that you always cheered for him despite being in opposing houses and seeing you in the stands always gave him an energy boost during quidditch games, but he would never say it aloud.

Once you arrived at Hogsmeade, you couldn't contain your excitement, rushing Jongho off the train. He was fairly excited as well, but he wanted to keep his cool, putting on a calm exterior as he followed behind you through the metal archway with the town name on it.

Jongho's eyes glimmered in wonderment as he gazed at all the shops like it was his first time seeing them.

"Here we are." You announced, looking up at the sign for The Three Broomsticks.

Jongho was quick to step ahead of you and hold the door open. It was a small gesture but it made your heart flutter. Stepping inside the tavern, the both of you made your way to the bar, seating yourselves on the wooden stools that lined it. Someone came around shortly and took your orders before grabbing a couple glass steins, filling them with the sweet amber liquid you and Jongho came for.

"Two butterbeers." The barkeep said, setting the glasses down.

You rummaged in your bag and placed enough coins on the tabletop to pay for the beverages.

"Hey." Jongho frowned in disappointment, his hand halfway shoved in his pocket from trying to dig out money to pay himself.

"It's my treat." You smiled, lifting your stein up. "We're celebrating your big win, after all."

Jongho raised his large mug as well, clinking it with yours before taking a few large gulps of the butterscotch-flavored beverage.

Jongho let out an ahh sound, setting his glass down on the bar top. You chuckled softly at the foam that clung to his upper lip which made him look even more adorable than usual.

"What?" He inquired.

"You've got a little something here." You gestured on your own face.

"Oh." He laughed, his ears turning a light shade of pink as he grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.

"You got hit pretty hard by that one chaser on Slytherin. I thought you were going to get knocked off your broom. Are you alright?"

Jongho instinctively rubbed his shoulder while thinking back on the moment he got rammed in the side by one of Slytherin's chasers the day before.

"Yeah I'm fine. A little sore, but he didn't hit me that hard. It's nothing I can't handle."

You shook your head and stifled a laugh.

Jongho was a tough cookie and a strong person both mentally and physically, but that didn't stop you from checking up on him.

"So, should we shop while we're here?" You inquired before taking another drink of your butterbeer.

You could see the faintest hint of a smile playing at Jongho's lips. He loved Hogsmeade and always seemed so entranced by what it had to offer. Even after all these years you can still see how mesmerized he is by everything.

"We could... you know since we're in town." He responded.

"Alright. We can go wherever you want."

His face lit up at your offer.

Once your glasses had been emptied and your craving for butterbeer had been satiated, you and Jongho set off into Hogsmeade to browse the shops and see what grabbed your attention.

"Could we go into Spintwitches?" He asked you in an almost unsure manner, but you could tell by the gleam in his eye that he really wanted to go.

"Of course. Like I said, we'll go wherever you want."

As soon as you stepped foot in the sporting goods shop, you could see Jongho's face brighten, his eyes darting to all the different displays inside.

"Check it out." He marveled, scurrying over to one of the brooms on display.

Your eyes moved to the card set up with the name written across it.

"Hogwarts House Broom." You read aloud.

"It's enchanted to display the house colors of the owner." Jongho informed.

"Woah."

"Yeah. It's pretty awesome, isn't it?"

You nodded.

Though you were a pureblood wizard and Jongho was muggle-born, he seemed to have much more knowledge on quidditch than you. He knew anything and everything about types of brooms and what they do, whereas you didn't.

"This one can go up to seventy miles per hour." He pointed. "It's called the Silver Arrow. You see how the broom itself is made to look like an arrow?"

You nodded.

Honestly, you could listen to Jongho talk about brooms all day just to be able to see the enthusiastic expression on his face. Often times you find yourself thinking back on the day you first met him and how nervous he was to be attending Hogwarts. Now, he fits right in.

Jongho continued spouting off facts about each broom while you both perused the store for a few more minutes before deciding to move on.

"Where to next?" He inquired.

"How about Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop?"

He nodded and you both made your way in that direction.

Upon entering the quaint shop, the scent of parchment and ink reached your senses, a content smile settling onto your features. Displayed on the shelves were different quills that ranged in appearance. Some had fluffy, white feathers while others were flat with patterns on them. Your attention was drawn to a stunning peacock quill, the vibrant array of colors piquing your interest.

You had always been drawn to the captivating quill ever since you enrolled at Hogwarts years ago. Though with its flamboyant appearance, you had passed on buying one, not wanting to cause a distraction during class.

"I never really cared for quills." Jongho commented. "They're difficult to use and you have to keep dipping it in ink."

"Yeah, I can't understand why the school would still want to use them when there are things like pens."

"Ah." He chuckled, thinking back on when your professor for muggle appreciation class allowed everyone to try one out. "You were mesmerized by those things."

"How could I not be? They're much more convenient than a quill. You don't have to constantly dip it in ink."

"Stopping to dip your quill in ink seems like a waste of time if you think about how many times you have to do it during one class period." Jongho mentioned.

"Exactly!" You pointed. "I didn't even think about that."

A small laugh of amusement slipped out of Jongho as he shook his head. Seeing you getting fired up about pens versus quills was entertaining to him.

Moving right along, you started browsing the parchment and notebooks stacked on a shelf. One in particular had caught your eye and had you walking over to it, picking it up from the stack. You ran the pads of your fingers over the intricate embossed design in the leather of the notebook, tracing the swirls and curls on the cover. You enjoyed journaling and writing down good and exciting things that have happened to you, even sometimes writing down bad things just to vent your emotions. The pages in the current notebook you owned were only halfway filled, so there was no need to purchase the one you held in your hands, but it sure was pretty. Maybe you'd come back for it later when you needed a new journal.

You proceeded to the next display, perusing the items for a few moments before noticing Jongho's absence. He was standing with you when you first entered the store, but now you weren't sure where he had wandered off to.

After searching the shop for about a minute, you found Jongho looking at an inkwell filled with rainbow ink, turning the small glass jar around in his hand with a confused pout on his pretty lips that had your heart doing front flips.

"Do people actually use this?" He asked once you were close enough to hear him.

"Only for fun or pranks. It's not really suitable for classwork."

"Ah." He placed it back on the shelf. "People here seem to love their jokes. Prank quills, prank socks, a prank shop."

"Yeah." You chuckled. "Some people do. You'd be surprised how good business is at Zonko's."

"Are you ready to go?" Jongho asked, looking to see that you didn't have anything in your hands.

"Yeah. I didn't find anything."

"Alright. Moving on, then."

Your day at Hogsmeade was a lot of fun. You had stayed in town so long that you decided to grab lunch. Unfortunately, you weren't quick enough and Jongho had paid for your meal, which you shyly thanked him for. At the end of the day, you each left town with a bag of sweet treats from Honeydukes and a new piece of clothing from Gladrags. Jongho found a nice jacket and you managed to snag a pair of pants you had your eye on for a while.

"Thanks for taking me out today." Jongho told you on your walk back to the school.

"It was nothing. I wanted to celebrate your big win, plus I needed a day out. Can't be focused on studies all the time."

"Right." He chuckled.

Once inside the castle, the both of you parted ways to head to your respective dormitories, Jongho standing in the hallway for a moment, watching you walk away.

I should have said something. He thought to himself. It would have been the perfect opportunity. He let out a short huff of disappointment.

Maybe next time.

Jongho took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his racing heart. He had gone over everything at least a hundred times.

"Just say what you need to say. It's no big deal."

Gryffindors were supposed to be courageous and brave, but Jongho was currently lacking that trait. He wanted so badly to confess his feelings to you, but all he could think about was the many ways you'd reject him:

"I only see you as a friend."

"I like someone else."

"I'm sorry. I don't feel the same."

"I don't date muggles."

He groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. It shouldn't be this big of a deal.

If only he had something that could help him out, give him that little boost of courage he needed.

Then, suddenly, a lightbulb went off in his head. A bravery potion. That's it! He knew how to make that. He just learned it a few weeks ago in potions class. Pulling out his cauldron, he went through the ingredients he remembered were used in the concoction, pulling them out and lining them along the desk.

Less than an hour later, he held a glass bottle in his hands, swirling the liquid around inside while examining it. He had never taken a potion before and was a little nervous, but he needed this. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to confess properly unless he had just a little bit of courage.

"I hope this works." He murmured before downing the potion.

You were walking down the hallway when Jongho came around the corner with a little pep in his step. It was evening and classes were over for the day, so you assumed that's why he appeared so chipper.

"There you are, pretty."

Your body stiffened, your heart leaping at the unexpected nickname.

"Pretty?" You whispered under your breath.

As soon as you were within reach, Jongho took hold of your hand and rubbed his thumb affectionately across your knuckles.

"I'm glad I found you. We need to talk."

"We do?" You questioned. "About what?"

"Follow me."

Jongho led you down the stone corridors of the castle until you arrived at a somewhat secluded area of the school that was, for the moment, free of any students or teachers.

"Is everything alright?" You asked, mildly concerned that he needed to discuss something serious with you.

"You're so beautiful." He sighed out, ignoring your question. "Have I ever told you that?"

Your eyes widened as a faint warmth touched your cheeks. "No."

"You are. Y/n, you are so stunning."

What's with the sudden compliments?

Jongho gazed at you dreamily. "You make my heart race every time I'm near you and when I see you in the crowd at quidditch games cheering for me, it makes me feel so giddy I can't even explain it. Sometimes I wish I could run up to you after a successful game and kiss you. I'd lift you off your feet and spin you around just like in the movies."

"Jongho." You uttered in disbelief.

"I love you so much, Y/n."

You could see the look in his eyes and tell by the way he was sputtering all of these confessions that something wasn't right.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

"I'm fine." He giggled. "Better than ever."

You pressed your lips together in concern, cupping his cheeks to examine him.

"Please kiss me, Y/n."

You gasped softly at the request, your cheeks set ablaze. Oh how you wanted to give in. You wanted so badly to lock lips with him right then and there, but this wasn't right.

"What did you do, Jongho?" You asked.

"My name sounds so nice coming from your mouth, pretty." He sighed out.

"Jongho."

He giggled in response.

"What did you take?"

He reached into his bag and pulled out an empty bottle, handing it to you. You brought it to your nose, sniffing it, the scent of bubblegum reaching your senses.

Babbling Beverage.

"Jongho." You groaned. "What have you done?"

"It's a bravery potion, Y/n. No need to worry." He smiled almost drunkenly.

"This isn't a bravery potion, this is a Babbling Beverage. It makes you speak nonsense."

He scoffed in offense. "I'm not speaking nonsense."

"Come here." You brought him over to the corner of the secluded hallway, so you'd have a little more privacy.

"Are you mad at me?" Jongho asked.

"No, but why did you do it?"

"I wanted to confess to you but I was too scared. Isn't that silly? You told me Gryffindors are brave, and I usually am, but not today." He rested his head against the wall. "I needed something to help me so I brewed a bravery potion—or at least I thought it was."

"You... wanted to confess to me?"

"Yes. I like you so much, Y/n. You're so beautiful and funny and kind and you made me feel so welcomed on that very first train ride to Hogwarts. You were the first friend I ever made."

Your heart swelled with adoration at his words. Though he was under the influence of a potion, his words seemed genuine.

Jongho took his bag off, letting it fall to the ground as he stepped closer to you.

"I want to kiss you so badly." He murmured.

"I'm not sure that's a good ide-" Your sentence went unfinished as he gently took your chin between his thumb and index finger.

Staring into his captivating eyes, you found yourself wanting to give in, your gaze darting down to his pouty lips and imagining how soft they probably felt. Having his face so dangerously close to yours had you wanting to throw caution to the wind.

"Can I?" He asked.

The tone of his voice was so soft yet temping at the same time. Without mulling it over any further, you nodded.

Jongho didn't let another second pass before his lips landed on yours—and yes, they were soft. Right away, you reciprocated his actions, kissing him back with just as much fervor.

His fingers released your chin, moving to the back of your neck to pull you even closer, the action also causing your lips to press further into his. You could feel every dip and curve of his mouth, the sensation making your closed eyelids flutter. Your hands, which had been balled into fists at your sides, latched onto his shoulders, staying there for only a few moments before your fingers slid into his hair. Jongho's arm snaked its way around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You gasped at his action, noting how strong he was and how tightly he was holding you against him with just one arm.

It was clear Jongho was starting to get comfortable as his kisses got more heated and somewhat sloppy. He began nipping lightly at your bottom lip, letting out quiet sighs when your nails grazed the nape of his neck.

"Keep doing that, pretty." He exhaled against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine and a rush of butterflies to your abdomen.

You boldly grabbed a handful of his hair and gave it an experimental tug, a quiet groan from him vibrating against your lips immediately after. His hand that was cupping the back of your neck dropped to your waist, squeezing your hip tightly. He then took a step forward, backing you against the stone wall behind you.

"You have no idea how long I've dreamt of this." He murmured, placing a kiss on your jawline

Heavy breaths escaped your lips, your chest heaving up and down while attempting to catch your breath. You had no idea Jongho could kiss so passionately... or boldly, and you were pleasantly surprised by this discovery.

"You're not the only one." You confessed.

He lifted his head to meet your gaze.

"I'm not?"

"No."

Jongho knew when you kissed back that it more than likely meant you felt the same about him as he does you, but hearing you practically confess had him reeling. He wanted to hear more.

"It's probably obvious at this point, but I'm head over heels for you, Jongho."

Still under the influence of the potion, Jongho blurted the first thought in his head.

"I love the way you say my name."

His lips were on yours again, hot and heavy. His kisses were desperate and fast-paced, making you weak in the knees. The Babbling Beverage made one speak nonsense and didn't have an effect on how they kissed, so this was all Jongho.

Your fingers curled around the collar of his robes, fisting the fabric in desperation while he practically devoured you.

It was at that moment, your foot bumped something on the floor which caused you to part ways. Glancing down, you found Jongho's bag that had been discarded only a few moments earlier lying on its side with something sticking out of it.

"What's this?" You asked, reaching for the object that had fallen out of his bag. It was wrapped in brown paper with twine tied around the it, a sprig of lavender tucked into the bow knotted neatly in the middle.

"Oh." The look on his face told you that it was something you weren't supposed to see.

The effects of the potion seemed to be wearing off as he dropped his head into his hands, letting out a groan of frustration.

"I was supposed to give that to you first, before I confessed." He grumbled, his voice muffled by his palms.

When he lifted his head, he saw that you were smiling.

"You got me something?"

"Yeah, but I messed it all up. I had a plan. Give you the gift, then confess. That stupid potion." He muttered the last part.

He only wanted something to give him a tiny boost of courage and instead he made the wrong thing and made himself babble like a fool. Then again, he did have an incredible makeout session with you, so did everything really go wrong?

"Here." He picked up the item and handed it to you.

You carefully took the gift from him, running your fingertips over the lavender.

"You wrapped it yourself?"

He nodded, holding his hands behind his back and rocking back on his heels.

Plucking the sprig of lavender out of the twine, you undid the knot and pulled back the wrapping. Inside was the leather-bound journal you were admiring at Scrivenshaft's just a day ago.

A quiet gasp left your lips. "How did you know?"

As far as you were aware, Jongho had been looking at inkwells when you were perusing the journals.

"I saw you eyeing it in the shop." He responded, holding back a grin, clearly proud of himself.

"You didn't have to."

"I know."

"Thank you." You embraced him in a one-armed hug. "Also, don't worry about how things went today. I think everything turned out perfect. And if I'm being honest, I really enjoyed that little kiss we shared."

"Little?" He raised a brow.

"Okay, not so little."

"I'd be happy to do it again." He grinned, leaning forward only for you to press your finger to his lips, halting his actions.

"Maybe later. I heard some voices down the hall a few seconds ago. Don't wanna get caught."

He pouted, his pillowy lips pressing against your index finger. Unable to resist his puffed out cheeks and pleading eyes, you let out a short sigh, caving immediately.

"We can go to the library. We're less likely to get caught there."

Jongho nodded vigorously in agreement, taking your hand and pulling you down the corridors towards the library, eager to lock lips with you once again.

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung

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