#just about done with the present day section (at last) and then the past is going to be pretty straight forward

[wutheringmights]

(for the first time in forever, new ctb this weekend)

[shadowtriovibes]

it's a sign of the times

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."

the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?” At once, the three of you freeze. “Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?” “I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.

You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.

Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.

You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.

You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).

It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.

“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”

“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.

“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.

You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”

“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”

“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.

“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”

You scoff. Unbelievable.

“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.

You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.

“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.

“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.

Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.

“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”

“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.

“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”

“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.

Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.

Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.

“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”

“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”

You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.

One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910

We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.

Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.

Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.

Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.

“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.

“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”

Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.

“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”

“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.

“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”

“What is it?” you breathe.

“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”

The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.

“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”

“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.

Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”

“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”

Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.

“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”

“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”

“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”

But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.

That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.

Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.

“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”

“Who?” Ominis asks.

“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”

“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”

You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”

“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.

Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

At once, the three of you freeze.

“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”

“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”

Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.

Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.

Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.

“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”

“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.

“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.

“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”

“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”

You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.

“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”

“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”

“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.

“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”

You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.

“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.

“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”

Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”

“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”

Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”

“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”

Well, that certainly clears things up.

Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.

You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.

“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”

You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.

“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”

“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”

“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”

“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”

“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”

Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.

“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”

Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”

“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”

Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.

“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”

“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”

“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”

You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.

“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”

“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.

“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”

“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”

“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”

Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”

You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.

The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.

You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.

You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.

“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.

“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”

You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”

He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.

“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”

“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”

He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.

Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.

“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”

“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”

You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”

You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”

Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.

“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”

---

[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]

[keto-keyes]

The Slytherins at Valentines

Imagine/preference

In celebration of the day of love, I have taken it upon myself to commit to paper how I imagine the Slytherins would celebrate Valentines with their S/O

Mattheo Riddle:

Mattheo would probably act like he'd forgotten until right at the last minute before it was time to head to sleep for the night

and practically dump a whole-ass pile of presents on his S/O's head.

definitely expects you to cuddle w/ him

he's the little spoon obviously

would constantly whisper things like:

"You thought I forgot, didn't you?"

"...Dumbass thought I'd forget the best day ever"

If you correct him, you lose your gifts

If you don't, smug ass bf forever

Choice is yours

He never really shows how touch-starved he is until Valentines Day, when he can snuggle with you and kick all the others out of your dorm without hearing you complain

not that you ever do

Basically, cuddles and rich-man benefits from the king of puppy eyes.

Tom Riddle:

This man... he is so romantic about how he spoils his S/O

A single rose, or a ring or some other piece of jewellery

Watch out, he'll present it at breakfast with a modest little card and expect you to wear it all day without fail.

might even buy you a crown fitting for the queen of the slytherins

doesn't like PDA, so none of that

Subtle smiles in your direction, maybe even a blown kiss

will love exchanging coded love letters with you like the little nerd he is

if you expected him to be cold like usual, he's not

other kids get time off from being victims, he's moony about you for a change

probably even brings small little things he finds to give you in-between classes

a feather, a dropped quill, some cookies he "borrowed" from some useless gryffindors

Mattheo couldn't stop teasing him after he caught Tom plucking nice-smelling herbs from the potions closet

You might need to stop him killing his brother

he's a gentleman, alright?

Theodore Nott:

Italians know how to Valentines Day

the saint is literally FROM Italy

and theo is rich. So....

Presents. lots of presents

anything you need

kisses also. lots of kisses

mans really loves kissing you. he'll never say no to PDA

staring at you for HOURS

dude has a stare like looking into the ocean - beautiful but somehow also makes you self-conscious

whispering to you in italian

even if you can't understand him, you know he's either complimenting you or whispering blasphemy about whichever first year last crossed his path

he likes to sit you on his lap when he can and rub your thighs or massage your shoulders

shoulder and neck kisses when you do

he doesn't like to be too far away from you, like any good clingy bf

will definitely need you to tell him to stop holding your hand or your waist before he does

maybe needs reminding multiple times. especially with other guys around

double the soft boy on the day of love

Draco Malfoy:

expect this boy to become very clingy

he's attention-starved, remember?

but he will give his S/O lots of gifts and presents to celebrate love

cards, messages via flying paper crane, roses, rings, ripped out passages of books from the forbidden section of the library, all the romantic gifts

he prefers to give little pecks on your cheeks when he can, but if not, definitely hand kisses.

i kid you not, he will get down on one knee with his usual gentlemanly demeanour just to kiss your knuckles

give this poor boy lots of kisses please

he needs them

play with his hair, let him be the little spoon

not that he isn't usually

he just won't let any of the others know that

holding hands

terrorising first-years

sending cutesy love letters to one another without the professor knowing

or zipping them right past mcgonagal's ear, if you live on the wild side

either way, he's so soft and squishy

Blaise Zabini:

i have come to inform you that this man will skip school for you

you're not feeling potions today, rather go out on the town? done

he does not care

you both get good grades anyway

all the sweets

sugar is his love language, and, funnily enough, your pet name

letting you wear his jackets

kisses. give this man some kisses

holding hands whenever you can.

i headcanon his hands are huge.

like giant sized

him smiling to himself whenever he sees you

"How did I manage to score this little sugarcube?"

yep, another sugar-themed pet name

you are like a little flower he needs to preserve (an icing flower, if you catch my drift)

another member of the touch-starved trio

he can do your hair for you (if you have long hair), but ONLY if you sit on his lap

this man knows french. and danish

did you know danish is one of the most beautiful languages on earth? well, you will soon

he likes muttering how pretty you are in danish. and how much he loves you

also, mans is a legit beanpole boy

he will rest his head on yours. he is just that tall

anyway, he loves you in 3 languages fam

Pansy Parkinson:

probably wants to make sure you both have the same number of presents

you'll always have one more than her somehow. like, how does someone forget they bought you the cat (or some other household pet) you always wanted?

isn't happy until she can constantly see a smile adorning your features

like Blaise, she will do your hair for you (if you have hair)

she buys THE NICEST necklaces and bracelets. not even Tom can compare

she can also speak french, but she'll only open up and start speaking it when you tell her you love her in your native language

will find pretty flowers to put in your hair or behind your ear so you can constantly smell of that flower

holding hands. there is no excuse

showing you off to the boys, making them pretend to have never met you before

no-one is allowed to make you smile except her. so, please stay away from Mattheo and Enzo for the day

will contain her anger and short temper for you

she's the little spoon.

you must comfort her. dealing with 6 boys everyday is tough

you're like royalty for a day, deal with it

Lorenzo Berkshire:

cheesy gifts. no cap

small flowers out of decorative bouquets? check

a flower or butterfly pin? yessir

constant hand-holding

teasing you

lip bites, squeezing your thighs, twirling strands of either of your hair

he is a major flirt, contrary to popular belief

he thinks you are the most adorable thing ever

loves to tell you how gorgeous you look

master gentleman in action, ladies and gents

singing cheesy love songs

mans will serenade you

he is the big spoon, for reasons you may never know

perhaps he likes holding his world in his arms

that's right folks, you are his WORLD

and nothing will stop him from telling you that as you nap in his arms instead of going to potions

[mymegrokosmos]

B specifically asked not to be hurt but it's her bday weekend so instead of listening we are writing Yunho smut on this fine Friday evening. Anyway, uh yeah... best friend Yunho. 🔞

content : mentions of drinking, thigh riding, unprotected sex, slightly dubious consent, best friends Yunho and reader fooling around.

The evening started the way Thursdays typically did. You showed up at Yunho's cramped little excuse for an office, shared with the always courteous San and Seonghwa, to find him the only one working late. San was just packing up when you walked in, Wooyoung perched halfway on his desk chattering away as you offered them both a wave. You weaved your way past them, carefully avoiding Seonghwa's little shelf of lego creations, to drop down onto the corner of the desk Yunho typically had half covered in papers and miscellaneous stationary.

"Fancy meeting you here."

He glanced up from his grading, pen tapping against his bottom lip as he sat back with a sigh when he finished the page. "Hello stranger."

You smiled as he ran a hand through his already messy dark hair. It was always in disarray after these classes. His TA position stressing him out more this semester than it usually did. He was better at managing most of the time but his course load was heavy lately and he'd been staying later and later to finish marking and assignments. The balance wasn't exactly work life balancing and you had yet to see him actually sleep once this week.

He ran a hand over his face when you quirked a brow at him, glancing between him and the pile of papers on his desk. "When are these marks due in?"

"Tuesday."

"How many do you have left to get through?"

"Maybe twenty more? I should be able to finish a few more tonight and then run through the rest tomorrow. Then I can sit down and study for that Stats exam Sunday and help you with our presentation Monday."

"And are you planning on sleeping any time between now and then?"

He sighed. "y/n you know I'm doing my best here. I just don't have time."

You shook your head. "Finish that one and I'll borrow Hwa's or Sannie's desk space to sit down and get through more of our presentation. Then we can go back to mine, since Mingi is definitely not going to let you get any sleep tonight, and I'll help you with the rest of these tomorrow."

He blinked up at you. "You've already done like three quarters of the work on this presentation."

"So it won't be much more when I make up 85% and you have a fresh, functioning, brain to look over everything before the final draft Monday. Plus, you're my best bet at actually passing stats and if we're going to be studying all weekend we can at least get some rest in between. And I have plenty of caffeine."

He groaned. "Please do not even talk to me about caffeine right now."

His leg jiggled and you laughed. "On your fifth americano of the day or something are we?"

He shrugged and held up four fingers, biting his lip. You shook your head.

"I'm not even going to ask. Speedrun your marking, I'll be over there and then I'm buying you a drink on the way back to my apartment. If anyone deserves it, it's you. And maybe it'll counteract some of the blood in your caffeine system."

A laugh and then you both turned to set back about your own tasks.

You hummed softly as you worked, only glancing at the time once you'd finished the last section of the powerpoint. Yunho's fresh eyes would catch a ton of small details you'd missed but that was fine. It was why he was always the final run-through on these things. You cracked your back and stretched, pressing save and closing your laptop. You found Yunho pretty much exactly where you had left him.

He sat hunched over his desk, chin resting in one hand as a red pen tapped against one cheek while he poked his tongue into the other. He was so focused or lost in whatever train of thought he was currently jotting down in the margins of the paper he was nearly done that he didn't even start when you came over. You leaned back against the corner of Hwa's desk and watched. He adjusted the glasses on his face as he finished and you bit your lip as he cracked his neck.

"If you keep doing that one of these days you're going to break something important."

It always made you just a little nervous. He grinned, dropping the pen as both arms came up over his head in a stretch you could almost feel. He flopped back into his chair, legs spread, and adjusted the glasses that had begun slipping down over the bridge of his nose. You just sighed and dropped into his lap.

"Done for the night?"

His forehead dropped forward to rest against the back of your shoulder as you cleaned up his desk, hands resting on your thighs as his fingers drew abstract shapes on your jeans.

"Mhm, if I start another one right now I think my head might just explode."

You smiled and started shuffling his things into a pile. "Help me clean up and then we can leave. I have a bottle of soju or seven with your name on them in the fridge."

His little cheer was muffled against the back of your shirt as you both got up.

It didn't take long to walk to your building, your apartment wasn't far from the building all his classes were in this semester and Yunho's long legs forced you to walk a little faster than you would have alone. His presence did make the dark campus feel a little less foreboding so you stuck close as you headed inside and up to your unit.

He followed you in like he always did, at home here since he'd lived part time in your apartment before he and Mingi moved in together last fall. He was more than familiar. You dropped your things in the living room and headed to the kitchen to see what flavours of soju you had available. There was a selection.

It had maybe been a bad idea to suggest alcohol on an empty stomach.

You found yourself half naked, having lost a round of strip poker or two before the takeout arrived, leaning against Yunho's shoulder as you both burst into laughter for what felt like the millionth time in the last hour. The food was great and you shoved another bite into Yunho's mouth before he could launch into another story.

"Please shut up and eat your noodles before I suffocate. I think I broke a rib just now."

He chuckled, taking the chopsticks from you and scarfing down the rest of the container while you wiggled around trying to get your bones to sit right again. Your ribs and face hurt from laughing and you were pretty sure you'd cried off most of your mascara already. You took a deep breath.

"Why do I ever listen to you? You're so ridiculous, you know that?"

He grinned and you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted to his lips, lingering a little as you reached up to brush a bit of sauce from the corner. His breath hitched and you blinked up at your best friend.

"Okay?"

He nodded.

"Sorry, I should have asked first."

He shook his head, hand coming up to capture your wrist. You knew, in theory, that they were large but the ease with which his long fingers circled your wrist had you staring. This was new. Or was it?

You didn't think you were that tipsy.

"Hey Yun?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you pinch me please?"

He smirked. "I can think of something better."

You blinked. His face hovered closer, moving slowly. You didn't stop him. Then his lips were on yours and oh, you were so not dreaming. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, making you squeak into his mouth and he laughed as he pulled away.

"I can't believe we've never done that before."

You reached up to touch your lips, and then to pinch him.

He jumped. "Yah! Hey! You can just tell me if you didn't like it."

You smiled. "I did like it. I was just making sure I didn't black out and accidentally dream this."

He sighed. "No, we're both still awake. Was that really necessary?"

You shrugged and then you were leaning up to kiss him again. He tasted like soju, what was new there, and the strawberry chapstick Hwa had bought him for his birthday last month. His lips were soft and everything but gentle as they worked against yours. You lit up when his tongue parted your lips and plunged into your mouth, sighing against his lips.

He was a good kisser, you'd give him that. Your hands found his wide shoulders and you braced yourself as you climbed into his lap to get closer. Something about Yunho was just addictive and as long as he was good with where this was going, you didn't want to stop.

He was right, why had you never made out before? You'd definitely gotten drunk and tried other things together over the years. It should have been only natural that this was on the list of experimentation, you'd known him since high school after all, but kissing was just one of those things you'd never dared to initiate with Yunho before now.

His hands were everywhere and you found yourself whining into his mouth when they slid down to cup your ass. He squeezed and you rocked forward, gasping as he adjusted you like you weighed nothing. You let Yunho manhandle you, moving you from his lap to straddling one large thigh. You nipped at his jaw when he pressed your hips down, guiding them over his still jeans-clad leg.

"Yunho." You whined.

It was unfair that he was still so clothed while you sat there in just your underwear. It was a matching set at least but neither of you was really paying attention to that particular detail. You tugged on his shirt and he leaned back to watch you unbutton it, hand coming up to fold behind his head. His eyes were dark as they trailed over you and you could feel the heat pooling in your gut.

"Tell me to stop and we can."

You shook your head. "If you stop now I'm disowning you. Hongjoong is going to be my new best friend."

He laughed and leaned in to press kisses down your neck, humming softly against your skin as you finally managed to get him out of his shirt, shoving it off over his shoulders.

He pulled you back in, one hand on your waist guiding you to rock against his flexed thigh as the other came up to cup your breast. "Do you have any idea how pretty you are like this?"

You hummed. "A mess?"

He shrugged, the hand on your breast moving to unclip your bra in one smooth motion. "For me, yeah, that's hot."

"Mm, because you're the one making me desperate?"

He nodded, head dipping down to catch a nipple in his mouth. You gasped, hand tangling in his hair and he groaned as you tugged when his tongue flicked over your skin.

"You have no idea how desperate you make me. It's nice being the one with the upper hand for once."

Before you could ask what, exactly, he meant by that his hands and mouth busied themselves making it impossible to think. You gave in, only getting a minute to breathe when he flipped you around and pulled you back against his chest.

You leaned your head back, tilting your neck to give his lips better access while his fingers moved to trace your wetness over your panties. He bit down on your shoulder when you gasped, fingers trailing under the fabric to ghost over where you needed him the most. He groaned against your skin and you gasped when one finger slid inside you, slowly sinking up to the knuckle.

"Fuck."

"Mm, too much?"

You shook your head, hand grasping his wrist. "No. No, don't stop."

The chuckle against your neck had you shivering. "Oh, greedy tonight are we? My good girl wants another?"

You struggled to force your eyes open. "Please Yun, feels so good. Fill me up. Please."

He didn't ask again, sinking two more fingers knuckle deep as they continued to pump in and out at his pace. He worked you fast and didn't let up until you were shaking, clawing at his thighs and begging. You were pretty sure you'd started crying and you didn't care, the orgasm that swept over you was worth it.

When you caught your breath enough to whimper his name again he was already pulling out his cock, groaning as he adjusted you on his lap again, legs hooking underneath yours to keep you spread open for him.

"Fuck, you sound so pretty when you cum."

He was stroking himself with the hand that, moments ago, had been mostly inside you. You forced your thighs to cooperate a little longer as you turned to straddle him properly again, hips rocking as his tip slid along your slit, now slick with your own release. He moaned and you found yourself smirking.

Oh, so this was what he had been on about. It did feel good, seeing him such a mess for you, especially when you had barely done anything.

"Let me, please, don't need to be inside but can I...?"

His pathetic whines had you biting your lip and nodding. "Yes, yes Yun. Use me however you need."

You swear he almost came at those words, stopping to stare you dead in the eye and then he was guiding his length along your slit like a man possessed. He felt so good you let your eyes slide shut, hands anchored on his shoulders as you felt him slip inside.

"Mm... just the tip. Please y/n."

His begging nearly undid you. You nodded, hips rolling with his and then suddenly he was grasping you by both hips and slamming up into you. The size of him knocked the breath from your lungs and he groaned.

"Fuck, shit, sorry. Just felt so good. Couldn't help it."

You rocked your hips a little, testing the stretch, and his hips stuttered. You'd never seen him like this and fuck if it wasn't more than a little intoxicating. The breathy moans, the whines as he held himself still just long enough for you to adjust to the sheer length of him pressed fully inside you.

You both paused as he pressed a hand to your pelvis and you caught a glimpse of him bulging in your abdomen. You gasped, he groaned, and then you were being pressed down into the couch while he hovered over you.

"Please please let me do that again."

You guided his hand, back arching as he slammed into you. You watched as he traced his fingers over the outline, cursing under his breath, and whimpered when his pace suddenly went from manic to man on a mission. He was rutting into you so hard he had to hold your waist to keep you from sliding all the way up the length of the couch but neither of you noticed the way the sofa creaked beneath you with every snap of his hips.

By the time he pulled out, hand fisting his cock as he painted your stomach, you were already seeing stars again. You arched up against him, whining and moaning his name as your hand slid down to your clit, fingers working you through your climax while he caught his breath.

"Who knew all needed was to get railed?" You teased, when you glanced up and met his eyes.

He laughed, sweat dripping down his forehead as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. That set you off and then you were both shaking with laughter.

"At least let me clean you up before we make another mess."

[typicalopposite]

( read in full on ao3 )

chapter one | chapter two

Pairing: BuckTommy - JonahTommy(past)

Rated: M

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Abusive relationship ; manipulation ; emotional trauma ; dom/sub undertone ; forced heart conditions

(Fair warning this chapter is 13k 🫣 I was going to split it… I changed my mind… i apologize for any inconvenience! To make it easier to follow … italics are flashbacks — present day is Buck POV / flashbacks are Tommy POV … up until the last lil bit!)

It has felt like this shift has gone by in slow motion, and there is still another hour before it ends. 

Buck feels like he is on pins and needles as he mindlessly wanders around the lofted section of the 118… anticipating another long call to drag out the already drawn out morning. He is jumping into action the moment he hears the ring— it takes him a moment to realize it’s just his phone. 

It’s Lucy.

His mind is racing to every worst case scenario and his hands are shaking when he brings the phone to his ear. “H- Hello?”

”Buck! God I hope you picking up means you’re still at the station…” 

“Uh, ye- yeah… I am,” Buck replies, already taking the stairs down two at a time. “Why? What— whats wrong?”

”It’s Tommy—” Nothing more really needs to be said after that; he is leaving now regardless… But he knocks on Bobby’s door and steps inside anyway, putting the phone on speaker so they both can hear Lucy continue. ”He got a weird call… and he started getting really upset about it. He wouldn’t talk to me— next thing I know he is dipping out without an explanation and Cap just said he asked to go home.” There’s a pause, then a sigh. “He seemed really upset, Buck… I— I’ve never seen him like that.”

”Go,” is all Bobby says; it’s all he has to say. Buck turns on his heels and leaves without even changing out of his uniform first.

He pulls his Jeep to a stop behind Tommy’s truck and sees the front door sitting open. Not a good sign since Tommy has learned the hard way about opening his home to the many strays in his neighborhood— one destroyed couch later and he swore he was getting a screen door and no more feeding them inside. He still hasn’t got that screen door and yet now his front door is wide open. 

Buck walks up the steps of the porch about to call out when he is hit with the scent of Lysol and bleach wafting out of the house. It's so strong Buck’s eyes start to water and he holds his breath as he enters the house. The hardwood floors are drenched like the cleaning chemicals have just been poured out and left. 

“Tommy?” Buck finally manages around the hand covering his nose and mouth from the fumes. “Babe…”

There’s mumbling coming from the bedroom and Buck makes his way down the hall— carefully because the floors are slippery— and finds Tommy on his hands and knees next to a bucket with a scrub brush clenched in his hands. Bleach spots are covering his dark jeans and the skin on his hands is red and irritated…. He seems unfazed by both, and everything as he scrubs, all the while saying something Buck can’t quite make out.

“Tommy,” Buck tries again. He reaches out and touches Tommy’s shoulder, causing him to jump in response. “Hey— Hey, it’s just me…”

“Oh,” Tommy looks up at Buck through eyes as red and irritated as his hands. “H- Hi. Sorry… I was just—” He looks down at the floor and starts scrubbing again. “I won’t be long… I just— It needs to be sterile… it’s— it’s im- important that it’s completely s- sterile in here b- before we— we start… I won’t be long. I just— it needs to be sterile…” He is scrubbing back and forth, dipping the scrub brush and repeating, absolutely soaking the floor. 

“Tommy…” Buck tries, again; and again he doesn’t get much by way of a coherent response.

“I’m— I’m almost done, baby… then we can… we can do whatever you want, okay?” 

“I don’t want to do anything, Tommy… Lucy was just worried about you, I’m worried about you.”

“Why? I’m— I’m fine.” 

“You’re clearly not…” Buck sighs. Tommy continues to scrub dip scrub dip and Buck finally grabs his hand. “Tommy stop! What— what are you doing?!”

“Stop it! Let me go! It— It has to be sterile!” Tommy cries out, trying to snatch his hand back. “He’s— He’s going to be so mad if it’s not ready— It has to be ready when he gets home! It has to be—” His breaths are coming in short fast gasps and at some point he reaches up and wipes at his eye, instantly hissing in pain from the bleach water. 

Buck springs into action hooking a hand under Tommy’s arm and hoisting him up and into the bathroom to flush out his eye. “Here, let me,” he says, guiding Tommy to lean over the sink so he can splash water up onto his face. He does it a few times then checks with Tommy on how it feels. 

“Better,” Tommy says. He washes the bleach water off his hands, and leans heavily against the counter. “I’m losing my mind…” he says with a sharp sarcastic laugh. “Which— that’s exactly what he wants.” Buck runs a hand over Tommy’s back, and he thankfully loosens some of h the tension at the touch. He looks at Buck, eyes red and puffy. “Jonah called the station today… He— I don’t even know how he managed it… but he did— he asked for me, and I didn’t— I didn’t know it was him until—”

Buck wants to be angry— he is angry— but he needs to calm Tommy down right now. He pulls him into his arms, and presses kisses to his temple and his cheek. “I got you,” he says when he feels Tommy let out a shaky breath against him. “It’s okay…” 

“It’s not okay,” Tommy says, and Buck’s heart breaks at how small his voice sounds. He reaches into his pocket and grabs his phone, then leads Tommy out of the bathroom, and the bedroom, and the house, into the fresh air, while he calls Athena. 

He hopes the call to Tommy’s station will help them get Tommy out of the trial… but Athena unfortunately says it won’t. Jonah calling Tommy is not against the law because Tommy chose to not report any of the abuse he suffered, and a phone call alone isn’t grounds for a harassment accusation. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy waited outside the restaurant, nerves rattling, chewing on a cuticle until he was sure it was about to start bleeding. It had been almost a year since he’d been on an actual date, and he wouldn’t even be on this one if Howie hadn’t been so annoyingly insistent. 

He talked him into downloading that silly dating app… talked him into taking his profile seriously… and talked him into taking the date with the seventh guy he matched with. Seventh because a.) the first six he’d quickly declined without even really looking at them, and b.) because Howie is almost comically superstitious. “Sevens a lucky number man! Come on. Give this one a try.” Tommy rolled his eyes, and said he’d look it over when he got home. 

He did.

And reluctantly he agreed to the date.

He was almost certain he’d been stood up— five minutes late isn’t typically cause for concern, but his expectations were very low and his heart was still on the mend from its last break. That made five minutes feel like five hours, and he was starting to contemplate leaving when the guy finally arrived. 

Jonah. 

Still fairly new to California, and a paramedic with the Glendale Fire department… so he was a first responder like Tommy. He understood the job, that was intriguing enough. He held out a hand and Tommy shook it. 

Pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes… he wore a flirtatious, but friendly, grin and a fedora. Tommy thought he shouldn’t have become so easily smitten with his charm… but damn was it hard. Tommy held the door for him, pulled out his chair, and let him order the wine— Jonah leaned in, lips curling up as he asked, “Do you ever just sit back and let yourself be the one taken care of?” 

Tommy was at a loss of words. 

Because he rarely did. 

So he decided to dial it back, and Jonah slid into the role with ease. He paid for the meal, ran his hand down Tommy’s arm and laced their fingers together, and even was the one to pull Tommy into a kiss before the Uber came to take him away. 

Their next date he did much of the same. 

The date after that Tommy let Jonah take him home… take him to bed… take him apart. Jonah quickly became everything Tommy thought he had been missing. 

It made it so easy— too easy for Jonah to become Tommy’s everything. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buck holds the door open for Tommy as they walk inside the Courthouse. He dips his head like he does every time Buck does anything for him— a look always crossing his face, like he is uneasy, or isn’t sure how to react to it— before he finally smiles and thanks him. 

Buck used to take a little offense to it. He loved the pampering Tommy gave him, he’d never gotten that before… but he loved being the one giving, and doing. He loved spoiling and showing off his partner, but Tommy always got that look, so Buck tried to limit it. 

Knowing what he knows now, he thinks he finally gets why it’s so unsettling for Tommy, and Buck is hellbent on reconditioning his boyfriend’s brain. Soon he will be able to shower him with affection and it won’t make him think a request, or some level of abuse is going to follow. He quickly returns to Tommy’s side and wraps an arm around him; Tommy immediately leans into the gesture, and Buck presses a kiss to his temple. 

Tommy has progressively gotten more solemn since Jonah’s call— even more since he told Buck about the significance of the date the trial is on. “This year was going to be different…” he’d said. “I wasn’t going to have to think about it, or him… and now—” He sighed deeply and let his head fall into his hands. “It’s like I can’t escape him… no matter how hard I try.”

They reach the DAs office and Tommy collapses down into one of the chairs after being greeted. The DA is a shorter man, with a serious face. He doesn’t seem unfriendly but he doesn’t seem too approachable either. Talking to the DA would help them prepare for what could be coming, Athena said, and Buck wants nothing more than for them to get through this day as quickly and painlessly as possible. 

Still, he knows to keep his expectations low. 

As Athena had already informed them, Jonah’s call would get them nowhere by means of avoiding the trial. “However…” the DA went on to say. “We can try to prepare you for questions Mr. Greenway’s lawyer might hit you with.” Tommy takes a deep breath and nods, and the DA begins with some routine questions: What is your name? What is your relation to the defendant? Do you know why you were called here today? 

“I’m actually not sure…” Tommy admits. 

“S- Surely this man can’t think you would speak on his behalf… he— he tried to…” Buck stops speaking when Tommy slowly moves his eyes to him. This isn’t his business to tell, so he will let Tommy decide what to share with the DA and he will stay close for support. 

Tommy sighs, and he retells his story. The DA listens, brows pulled tightly together. The story’s hard to hear, Buck can attest to that… but he is on Tommy’s side— this man doesn’t even know Tommy. There’s a pause once Tommy has finished giving the DA the gist. A long pause.

“Why would you allow him to do something like that to you, Mr. Kinard?” 

Buck snaps into protective mode, an arm wrapping around Tommy’s back. “Hey, that— that sounds like you're blaming him—” 

“I can assure you I’m not,” the DA sighs. “But, sir, do you honestly think the defendant's lawyer is going to be any friendlier?” Buck settles back into his seat with that; Tommy squeezes his hand, and he gives him a quick apologetic glance. He doesn’t want to make this any worse or more awkward for him… it’s just— he can’t stand the thought of people putting him down either… This wasn’t his fault, and yet Buck knows Tommy thinks a part of it was. “I know the question is heavy, and hard to answer… but please, if you would; help me to understand.”  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t long before those bright blue eyes turned cold, and that warm inviting smile felt like it was masking something that made Tommy’s instincts scream at him to turn and run. Soon the care he insisted on giving came with a price, and that price grew and grew. 

Favors became demands that soon were expected without question or prompting. The kind voice that had melted Tommy’s insides could so quickly fill with venom it left Tommy reeling from the whiplash and always wondering how he let himself get here. He was a little relieved Jonah wanted to keep their relationship private… Tommy was so embarrassed with himself for how absolutely toxic he let things become. He was so embarrassed with himself for being too weak to walk away. 

So weak in fact when Jonah suggested living together, he didn’t hesitate to say yes. 

“Nice going, stupid…” Jonah spat on their first night in the new apartment. Tommy had taken the day off to unpack, Jonah had a shift until 8pm. He just wanted to have dinner ready… but Jonah came home upset, and Tommy neglected the time trying to tame his temper. This led to that and even with the small fire quickly snuffed out, LAFD was contacted and en route to the apartment. 

Thankfully it wasn’t the 118 who responded…

Instead, when Tommy pulled the door open as far as the chain lock would let him, he was met with 133 on the helmets and faces he only knew in passing. “Uh… hey! It’s— it’s Daryl right?” 

“Hey, Kinard?!” The man seemed shocked to see a fellow firefighter at the scene of an alarm call, Tommy couldn’t really blame him. He was so embarrassed— maybe that was a good thing since the flush of his cheeks hopefully hid the redness Jonah’s hand left behind. He wasn’t always physical, and he always apologized eventually… Besides, it was deserved… It was fine.

“Y- Yeah… sorry w- we— I just moved in, and it’s been a long day... but everything is under control.”

“Mind if I check anyway?” Daryl asked. “Not that I don’t believe you…” he quickly followed it with. “It’s just my captain will be all up my ass if I don’t…”

It’s protocol. Tommy knew that. Jonah knew that. But no one knew Tommy and Jonah were together… “Uh, yeah… of— of course,” Tommy said, then slowly pushed the door shut. Jonah scowled at him and took off to the bedroom. Tommy could keep him in the kitchen— that’s where the fire was, that’s all he needed to see… Tommy hoped. 

Thankfully it was, and Daryl assured him again it was nothing personal. “It's just… you know… the job.” 

“You’re fine,” Tommy said, trying to slowly walk Daryl back to the door. “Rules are rules… Sorry you had to come out here for nothing!” 

“Oh that’s fine; it killed time, and I didn’t even have to do anything since you already had it under control! I’ll see you around Kinard.” 

Tommy pushed the door closed behind him

And waited for Jonah to wander out of the bedroom. He didn’t. He waited for Jonah to call him into the bedroom. He didn’t. He took a deep breath and made his way to the bedroom instead. “Baby…” he said, pushing the door open. “He’s gone, Jonah…” Tommy stopped just inside the room, staring at Jonah standing ominously beside the bed. A black bag sitting on top of the mattress.

“Must be nice to get recognition for what you can do…” Jonah said bitterly. “To have people know you are actually good at your job…” 

“Baby… you’re amazing at your job! You know that.”

“I know that I know that, Tommy,” Jonah hissed. “It's them! My captain, my coworkers…”

“I know it,” Tommy counters. “I know that you are the most skilled paramedic out there. LAFD would be lucky to have you…” 

Words that should have never left his lips! But he hadn’t known— could never have known Jonah would leave his department for Tommy’s… 

“They would be… wouldn’t they?” Jonah said, slowly turning to face him. “Do you feel lucky to have me, baby?” 

“Of course…”

Jonah walked over to him, his hands held out to Tommy and Tommy quickly took them; he quickly latched on to the first hints of affection after Jonah had been so angry earlier. “Would you let me take care of you? Let me repay you for the sweet thoughtful gesture… even though you failed miserably and now we have to order take out.” Tommy didn’t even flinch at the insult laced compliment. He was so embarrassingly used to it… 

Jonah reached up and cupped Tommy’s cheek, still tender from earlier… Tommy leans into the touch— craves the gentle touch. “I’m so sorry…” he whispered.

“I know you are,” Jonah replied. “That’s why you’re going to do what I ask now, right?” 

“Anything.”

“Good boy.” 

He should have said no. He should have walked away.  

Jonah led him to the bed and pushed him down to sit on it. Then he leaned down and began kissing him. It quickly heated up and Jonah eased Tommy’s shirt up and off; he gently eased him back to lie on the bed, climbing on to straddle his hips. He continued kissing him, kissing over him, while Jonah managed to keep Tommy pinned down to the bed like a weight with a simple ‘Don’t move’. Tommy was defenseless against his orders. 

Suddenly Jonah was digging through the bag with one hand, pulling things out and sitting them beside Tommy’s body. He finally broke his lips away from Tommy’s skin and hovered over his face. “I want to try something with you, okay? But I need you to trust me…”

Tommy nodded.

“Use your words, Tommy.”

“I- I trust you.” 

With that Jonah pushed up enough to grab one of the things that were now touching Tommy’s side. A rubber tourniquet… he began to tie it around Tommy’s arm. “You know I would never hurt you, right?” 

Tommy nodded; Jonah glared. “Y- yes. I know that.”

“I’m good at what I do.”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“You’re a- amazing… at what you do baby. The best.” That made Jonah smile. He leaned down and kissed Tommy again, softly this time. Tommy tried to chase after him as he pulled away but he held him in place with one hand. “Jonah…” he practically whined. 

“Patience. I need to get everything ready.” Tommy watches as Jonah pulls on a pair of latex gloves, popping them to his wrist with an almost playful grin. He nervously laughed at it, and tried to steady his breathing. Then Jonah picked up a little glass bottle and a syringe…

“Jo- Jonah… what— what is that?”

“Shhh… you said you trusted me? Right?” Tommy didn't respond. Jonah didn’t seem to mind, too focused on drawing the liquid up into the needle. “I’m going to prove to you how good I am at saving lives.”

He puts the bottle down and flicks the syringe, squeezing the medicine inside up until a drop comes out of the tip. Then he begins to bring it towards Tommy’s arm. “I- I already know how good you are… you— you don’t have to prove anything to m- me.”

“Oh but believing and seeing are two completely different things, baby. I’m giving you the chance to see my skills in action.” 

Tommy could have fought him off. He should have fought him off. He laid there instead frozen out of fear… and obedience. “I- I’m scared… Jonah,” he admitted, partially anticipating it to piss Jonah off. It surprisingly didn’t.

“Here… I’ll hold your hand,” he offered smiling and there wasn’t a single trace of love or compassion… Tommy had never seen a more insincere smile— it was enough, it would have to be. Tommy stared at Jonah’s face, at that smile… and clung to the memories of the very beginning, when things were good, and the made up future he knew he’d nerved have.

It started to work so fast. Tommy gasped and began to hyperventilate. Jonah leaned over him and kissed his cheek. “Jo- Jo- Jonah…” Tommy managed, feeling a tear slip from his eye. “L- Love you…” just in case he never got to say it again.

Jonah didn’t say it back.

Tommy’s eyes closed.

Then he felt a sharp jolt as life rushed back into his body. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was like just talking about Jonah drained every ounce of energy out of Tommy. Not that Buck could be too surprised, every new story was so heavy and intense— he imagined reliving those nightmares would be draining. 

They ran into Athena near the front entrance of the courthouse, and Tommy nudged Buck’s arm when he stopped to talk. “No rush,” he quickly said before Buck could excuse them. “Just gimme the keys.” 

Buck knows Tommy desperately doesn’t want extra attention given to him from all of this, so he doesn’t press to wait, or insist he just go with him and instead just hands him the keys to his Jeep. Tommy thanks him with a soft, tired smile, leaning in for a kiss, and getting a hug from Athena as well. She runs over his back before pulling back so he can go.

“How’s he holding up?” she asks once he’s gone.

“Barely,” Buck sighs. “This is— it’s so much bigger than what we knew… Jonah was— he is a monster. He put him through hell… and now—” Athena gives him a look like she gets it; he knows she gets it after her nightmare with Jeffrey Hudson. “I just don’t know what to do to help him.” 

“Trust me Buck,” Athena says, reaching out to squeeze his arm. “You’re doing more than you think just by being there for him— with him. He knows you have his back, and Jonah is going to prison… He can not hurt him anymore. This is nothing but a hurdle.” 

Buck nods. “You— you think we could have some extra security in the courtroom for the trial? Just— just as extra precaution.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks ‘Thena— what the hell!?” Buck gasps and leans his body over to better see around Athena and out the front doors where Tommy is standing at the foot of the stairs. He glares at the side profile of a woman with long wavy red hair standing in front of him. “Taylor…” Buck hisses and is moving without another word to Athena. “You have got to be kidding me,” he says loudly, taking the courthouse stairs two at a time. 

She turns and flashes him that camera ready smile, and Tommy looks beyond relieved. “Hey Buck,” she says nonchalantly. “How’s it—”

“Save it,” Buck snaps back, and she actually looks surprised by the hostility. “Hey… are— are you okay?” He asks Tommy, who nods despite looking peaked and nauseous. Taylor looks back and forth between them; her curiosity is clearly peaked. “Come on, sweetheart…” Buck says, ignoring the way her eyes widen at the pet name and her grin stretches. “You don’t have to talk to her…” he says, gently nudging him to walk away from Taylor. 

“Wow,” she exclaims, more so under her breath, brows raised, causing Buck to give her an exhaustive, questioning look. “I did not see that coming. But… I’m happy for you.” 

Buck sighs at her friendly demeanor— the obliviousness as if she is doing nothing wrong. He knows she likely doesn’t think she’s doing anything wrong. “What are you doing here? Why are you talking to him?”

“I’m covering the trial,” she says point blank. “It was my story after all.”

“No…” Buck scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “No, Taylor, it was definitely not your story… you just made sure you were the one who got to tell it.”

“Buck—”

Tommy shifts beside him, and Buck sighs. He told Tommy that he and Taylor had dated… how it ended when she went behind not only his, but all of their backs and shared the story after being explicitly asked not to. He knows he didn’t have a leg to stand on with who hurt who more in their relationship; he’d cheated on her. It wasn’t about him, though… had he been the only one hurt by her rushing to get the credit for the story, he could have let that go. She hurt his family. 

He isn’t letting her do that again. 

“Don’t…” he cuts her off, unable to hear her excuses disguised as justifications. “You don’t care about the people who were hurt by him, you only care about your story.” 

“This story is my way to help everyone hurt by Jonah. Telling their story. T- Telling Tommy’s story!”

“You don’t even know Tommy’s story.” 

“I do actually…” she says.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’d only just been released from the hospital, and had nowhere to go. He couldn’t go home— back to the apartment. Too many memories, and pretty much none of them were good. So he sat on a bench outside the hospital and scrolled through his phone, looking for a cheap hotel. 

Footsteps approached and he had half a mind to ignore that they were clearly approaching him. He was so tired, and sore, and— fuck, a million other things… He just wanted to be alone. For once in a long while he craved the loneliness he knew was waiting for him. He can’t be hurt if there’s no one to hurt him. 

“Hey, Kinard— uh, T- Tommy…” 

Tommy sighed and looked up at Daryl. His hands tucked deep into his pockets, face pulled into a deep frown, his expression like he had a million questions and was unsure where or how to start. “Hey,” Tommy replied. 

“I came to check on ya, after— after I heard about everything…” he explained. “Your place was all taped up; I— I thought…” he broke his eyes away and turned them to the floor, as he shuffled from one foot to the other. “I went out to Harbor and they said you were in the hospital…”

“You— you didn’t mention that me and— and Jonah were—”

“Nah, man…” Daryl quickly replied. He almost sounded offended Tommy would ask. “I knew you two were on the low… I wouldn’t— Fuck Jonah, I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

Tommy smiled up at him, trying to retain the facade he was holding himself together… at least until he was alone, so no one felt the need to pick up the pieces he is fully to blame for getting broken. “Thanks…” 

There’s a silence that builds between them until it’s louder than the sirens of the ambulance turning into the ER… and the bustle of commotion all around them. It makes Tommy’s ears ring. Finally Daryl just spits it out. “Did— Did you know?” 

“No…” Tommy answers. A part of him wants to be upset at the question, but how can he… He should have known, he should have stopped him. “Not until… just before he—”’

“You were in the hospital… be- because of him?” Tommy nods. “Did he— Did he do what he did to Han… to you?” Tommy doesn’t respond. Daryl’s eyes are watery; he sniffs and rubs a hand under his nose. “I— I always suspected he was— you just… you had that look, you know? I’ve seen it plenty of times; they— they want out but they don’t know how to leave. I hate that I never asked.” 

“I would have denied it.” Tommy looks up at him. His own eyes are starting to get misty and he shrugs, offering a weak smile. “I loved him too much… I— I would have denied it…” 

Daryl nods. He wishes Tommy well, and walks away. 

A few nights later Tommy sees him talking to Taylor Kelly about working with Jonah. He never mentions Tommy, or his connection to Jonah; no one does. The officers, and detectives working the case promise he will be kept anonymous, and won’t be called in to testify. 

It’s like Tommy is given a clean slate, to start over and forget all about Jonah Greenway. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who told you?” Buck demands, and Taylor sets her jaw, seemingly unfazed by the rise in his voice. “They had no— no right to tell it. You have no right to know it.”

“Like it or not I’m covering this trial, Buck… And in doing so I do have a right to the information surrounding it, and so does the public— including those who were directly subjected to Jonah’s reign of terror. Even if that’s not what he refers to it as…” 

“You— You talked to Jonah?!” Buck practically yelps in disbelief. 

“He asked to talk to me actually…”

Buck steps back, gawking at Taylor. “So I guess he is the one who brought Tommy into it.”

“He did,” she says. “But I didn’t buy it for a second… none of the things he said— I want to hear Tommy’s side of the story. I want to share Tommy’s side of the story with the rest of Jonah’s victims.”

“I’m not a victim,” Tommy— who has been extremely quiet the entire time— finally says. Buck wraps an arm around him, tries to object and Tommy tenses, pulling away. “I’m— I’m not… I’m not. I wasn't forced to— to let him… I let him because— because I’m weak.”

“Tommy,” Buck tries, and Tommy shakes his head.

“I should have— I could have stopped him. I didn’t and someone died, Evan…Howie almost died. Now it’s all coming out and— and I deserve this…” He looks from Buck to Taylor, with red rimmed, teary eyes; his breathing coming in sharp gasps.

Buck recognizes the panic attack immediately; he’s had multiple since getting the summons. He pushes past Taylor to get Tommy the rest of the way to the Jeep. He opens the door and ushers Tommy onto the passenger seat. “Just breathe, Tommy. You’re okay,” he says softly, one hand rubbing over Tommy’s back the other holding his head steady so he keeps his eyes up on Buck’s. 

“I- I should be— be on trial with him… Evan. I- I should be in prison with him,” he cries before clutching at his chest. Buck tries to assure him that’s not true and everyone— Hen and Chimney… even Claudette’s family— would say the same, but Tommy shakes his head. “Ev- Evan it— it hurts…” he gasps, tapping on his chest. 

“I know, sweetheart, you just have to steady your breathing, so you can calm down, okay?” He runs his thumb over Tommy’s cheek, leans in so he can press their foreheads together. “I’m right here, I got you… you’re safe. I’m here. I love you.” 

Tommy finally exhales, shakily. “I love you too…” he replies, sounding exhausted. 

Buck’s heart is breaking for him, then out of the corner of his eye he sees Taylor, notices the recorder still in her hand, the red light still lit. 

“You’re seriously still recording?!” Buck snaps, before stepping away from the Jeep so he can close the door and put something between her and Tommy. “You have no idea what he’s been through, Taylor… You may think you're helping, but— but you’re not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

36 year old male. No known health problems. Suffers from cardiac arrest after being rescued from an oil rig collapse. Dies in the back of an LAFD helicopter during transport to Presbyterian.

Tommy listened as their medics tried time and time again to resuscitate him. He listened to the loud buzzing of the flatline until they called it and turned the machine off. Then came the silence. Respect to the departed, and all that… but Tommy hated it. In the silence his thoughts had freedom to get loud. 

A heart attack… at 36? They’d clip your wings so fast… 

Tommy couldn’t remember another time in his career that a simple transport took so long. When he finally returned to Harbor Station he could feel his pulse in his eyeballs, and he still had fifteen hours to go. It was only his first day back… He got a couple concerned questions throughout the rest of the shift; he brushed them off. Somehow he managed to get through it.

He got back to the airBnB he was staying at (just until the loan he’d taken out for a fixer upper on the outskirts of the city cleared) early the next day and crashed through the front door. His breathing was coming in gasps and his heart was pounding. Jonah’s voice was in his ear telling him everything he’d done wrong, everything the medics had done wrong. I would have saved him, his voice said. Who’s going to save you? 

Tommy made it to the bedroom, got over to the bed and tried to just lay down. He curled up on his side, closed his eyes… It did not help. It felt like there was a weight on his chest, pressing him down into the mattress and pinning him in place. Unable to move, unable to breathe… 

This is going to be how you die, Tommy… All alone.

At the foot of the bed were the few suitcases filled with everything he owned. Somehow he managed to move down the bed to reach them and got the first one open. He dug around the clothes inside until his hand bumped against the bag with the defibrillator he’d used on himself. 

It took him a minute but he got it out, set it up, and attached it to his chest… all the while it felt like his heart was over pumping blood to his head, and it was about to explode. 

He clutched at his chest, trying to suck in a breath. He collapsed back onto the mattress once everything was ready, trying to slow his breathing. The machine whirred as it came to life, scanned his heart, and Tommy waited anxiously. Shock not advised. Tommy exhaled and ripped the pads off… He curled back up on his side and cried. 

Cried because he was apparently okay.

Cried because he really wasn't okay…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a little chilly in LA the morning of the trial. The sun is hidden behind a blockade of thick clouds, casting a dreary kind of lighting over the city. It’s fitting, Buck thinks. 

The first thing he spots as they pull into a parking spot is Taylor’s van parked up by the courthouse. She changed her approach from live coverage to an overview after the trial. Buck wonders if it’s because they didn’t greenlight the live coverage, or if, perhaps, she’d had a minor change of heart. He hurries around his Jeep to Tommy, sliding an arm around his back protectively as they start up towards the courthouse entrance. 

Taylor is on the other side of her van giving what Buck assumes is an intro piece. They walk past her with Buck giving a warning ‘Don’t even think about it’, when she spots them and seems to be about to approach them.

The courtroom is already filling up; families of those Jonah had hurt, come to hopefully see their loved ones receive some kind of justice. Also among them are those who Jonah had attacked— both unknowingly, and knowingly. Hen and Chim wave at them when they step through the double doors. “Can we sit in the back?” Tommy asks, eyes locked on the defendant’s chair— still empty, for now. 

Buck tightens his hold, pulling Tommy closer to his body so he can press a kiss to his temple. “Of course.” Still the distance doesn’t soothe Tommy’s nerves much, and the closer the clock brings them towards the trial, Tommy starts getting more antsy and anxious in his seat, so Buck wraps an arm around his shoulder. “Just focus on this side, your family… me. Ignore him.” Tommy nods and relaxes into Buck’s embrace, and just closes his eyes. “I got you,” Buck assures him.

Almost the entirety of the 118 shows up. The 217 come as well; Lucy stops at Tommy and hugs him before finding a seat. Sal even drove down for support to his old friends. He smiles at Tommy, sitting down in front of him and Buck, cracking a joke about catching Jonah outside the courthouse to Buck that makes him laugh, and Tommy rolls his eyes with a soft smile. 

“So how about that crew that has your back when things get hard?” Buck whispers in Tommy’s ear. 

He smiles. “I’m sure Hen and Howie— and the others—  are very grateful to everyone for being so supportive.”

Buck feels his brows pull together. “They’re here for you too, Tommy.” That gets him a look of distress more than relief. Buck is sure he hears him  mumble ‘I doubt that…’ but he doesn’t question it. 

The side doors open, getting everyone’s attention, and Jonah is led into the courtroom handcuffed and shackled, bearing a maniacal grin that makes Buck’s stomach turn; how could he look so smug— so happy. His eyes scan the courtroom and eventually find them tucked away in the back corner, and the grin widens. He does his best to lift his hand, and waves. 

Jonah looks between Buck and Tommy, laughing when it seems to click that they are together. Tommy eventually lifts his eyes, meeting Jonah’s and as soon as he does Jonah blows a kiss in their direction. Buck tightens his arm around Tommy. “Just don’t look at him,” he whispers, and Tommy nods, turning his eyes back down to his hands. He picks at the dark blue polish on his thumb nails; he had let Jee paint them the day before… It helps stop him from biting them.

The judge enters, they rise for her and sit back down… and the trial begins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He should have died that night.

Tommy sat on the porch swing he just finished installing. Tested that it would hold his weight then kicked off with his feet. He looked out at his little section of the quiet neighborhood and wished it felt more like home. 

He’d wanted this with Jonah. He’d suggested buying a house when Jonah brought up living together… but Jonah never wanted permanence with Tommy. He sees that now. He didn’t want anyone to know they were together, so when he inevitably wasn’t able to resuscitate him one day— or he just didn’t want to— he could leave and it would look like Tommy’d had a heart attack. 

Except when that day actually came… Tommy survived. 

He should have done something…

When Hen was telling him what they found, he should have taken that information and stopped Jonah before he ever had a chance to go attack them. He knew where Jonah kept his bag of supplies. He could have hidden it. He could have refused to go get it. 

He’d known what Jonah was capable of… he’d seen it first hand.

“You have no idea how much you help me, baby.” Jonah had said one time as they prepared for their little game of life and death. Tommy always said the last time would be the last time… and yet he always ended up back in that chair… “You’re helping me keep my skill set sharp… if I didn’t have you, who would I have to practice on? It’s not like I can just… use an unsuspecting person on a call…” 

“You— you wouldn’t—” Tommy countered quickly, but Jonah leaned in and kissed him, before sticking the needle into his vein. 

“You are so special to me. You help me so much…” he said.

That shut down every alarm he’d set off. Now, instead, Tommy felt important— he felt like he was vital to Jonah.  

He should not be free…

The letter in his hands felt heavy as he continued to ignore it in lieu of focusing on his surroundings. The cool breeze, the neighbors out talking, the kids riding bikes.

Numerous calls from the prison to his cell, until he changed his number, and then the letters started coming in. First they were addressed to the apartment, and came mixed in with his other redirected mail. The one he was holding, however… was made out to his new address. 

That made Tommy feel sick. 

He didn’t open it. Instead he ripped it up and tossed it in the outside trash can.

A few days later a man showed up at Harbor. 

Wiry shoulder length hair, and wide bloodshot eyes. He walked right up to Tommy and said he’d been chosen by the Angel of Death. He said that he defied him by not dying that night. He said one day the Angel would be back for him. 

His captain said the man sounded crazy and called the police to come take him away. 

Tommy slept with his defibrillator that night… He attached it and randomly checked just to hear the ’shock not advised’ message. Then he would settle enough to just about fall asleep, before his heart rate would pick back up— memories would flood back in… and he’d have to check again. 

Shock Not Advised. 

Shock Not Advised.

Shock Not Advised. 

Shock Not Advised.

Shock… Advised…

“Huh…” Tommy mumbled, half asleep. He turned the machine off then back on and waited. 

Shooock… Adviiiised…

The words were not the machine's usual mechanical voice. This voice was garbled and distorted. This voice… sounded like Jonah

Shhooock- ck- ck… AAAAd- Adviiis- sed… Advi- viseeed…

Shock… Advised… Advised… Advised…

Shock…

Shock…

SHOCK!

It was yelled right in his ear and his eyes shot open. His thumb over the button, tense and ready to press it. He snatched it away and ripped the pads off his chest… grabbing the machine and carrying it to his closet. With tears in his eyes, and his heart pounding perhaps the hardest it ever had before… he shoved the defibrillator to the back of the top shelf. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chimney is the first to be called up.

“Please state your name for the jury,” the DA says, stepping around the table and towards the stand.

“Howard Han,” Chimney replies, his friendly smile on full display despite the situation at hand. It stays put through the DA’s list of questions, through his retelling of his version of the night he and Hen were attacked, then how he saved them by fighting back. “Well I had already been killed and brought back upteen times, upteen and one might have been the real deal… I had to do something,” Chimney jokes. 

Buck watches Maddie sigh and run a hand over her small bump; Karen pulls her into a hug. The details of that night hang heavy over everyone’s head. It causes him to cringe as Chimney continues to light heartedly crack jokes with the DA, making light of it… It causes Tommy to tense and shift uncomfortably next to him. At some point he just leans forward as if he’s resting his head in his hands… but is really covering his ears. 

“Hey… I’m alive,” Chimney says after the DA apologizes for his questions and for bringing up difficult memories. “I get to leave here and go home to my beautiful wife and daughter, about to be two daughters— so save your condolences for my sanity, I’m tripley outnumbered here—” the courtroom erupts into laughter. “Those memories mean nothing to me anymore.” 

Buck looks to see Jonah’s reaction… or lack of more like. He’s not even donning his crazy grin anymore. 

The DA takes a seat. 

The defense attorney stands up. 

“You never worked with my client, is that correct Mr. Han?”

“That is correct,” Chimney replies. “He was at the 118 in my absence; he was transferred very close to my return. I hardly knew the guy…”

“You were familiar with his partner at the time, though…”

Chimney looks at the man confused, and thinks for a moment. “His partner? I— I mean I know of him… Daryl Richards, I believe.”

“No,” the defense attorney laughs. “I’m talking about his romantic partner.” 

“Like I said, sir… I hardly knew the guy,” Chimney says, and the defense attorney smirks, opening his mouth like he’s about to dive into an explanation. “However, yes. I do know that he was with Tommy at the time of all this,” Chimney says first.

“Did you know this at the time?” 

Chimney sighs, looks over towards Buck and Tommy sympathetically— though Tommy is still hunched over and doesn’t see it. “I did not,” he finally admits.

”Is it correct that you used to work with Thomas Kinard, on the 118? You even stayed in touch with him once he left.” 

“That’s correct.”

“Would you call your relationship that of friends?” 

“We are friends. Tommy is a very good friend.”

the defense attorney nods along, twirling a pen around on one hand as he pauses before the next question. “Then why didn’t you know about his relationship with Jonah… until now?”

Buck tightens his arm around Tommy. “What the hell is he going for here…” he mumbles under his breath.

Chimney quickly deflects the somewhat accusatory question with a shrug. “I’m not owed insight into his love life, I don’t care if we were the absolute best of friends.” The teasing tone of his voice is gone, and he’s having quite the staring competition with not only the defense attorney, but Jonah too. Buck watches him go from glaring at one to the other.

“I knew he was in a relationship at the time, and the person wanted to keep it quiet. Tommy respected him enough to do so, and I respected Tommy enough to not pry. That's all there was to it.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, man! You can’t keep this from me, we're buddies!” Howie practically whined. Tommy smiled around the opening of his beer bottle and rolled his eyes. Tommy was quite a few dates into his and Jonah’s relationship and Howie was curious about… ‘who it was that had him smiling like that.’ 

“He’s, uh— he’s very private, and he’s not fully out yet.” 

Howie threw his hands up, quickly defeated. “You know what, I don’t even care…” he said. “All I care about is that you’re happy, and as far as I can see mopey Tommy is no longer reeling from his heartbreak and this new cheesy Tommy is absolutely adorable.” Another eyeroll, except this one, is accompanied by a deep blush spreading across Tommy’s cheeks. “Speaking of adorable,” Chimney continues. “Look at her,” he breaks out a picture of Maddie, deeply sleeping on the couch— her mouth hanging open, her hair a mess. “Morning sickness is really kicking her butt.”

“She’s gonna be kicking your butt if you keep taking pictures of her without her knowing, then showing them off… and I’ll hold you down so she can!” 

“Hey now, you’re supposed to be my friend here, traitor!” 

Howie laughed; Tommy laughed. Both were so happy with their lives at that moment… both would lose that happiness so very soon... At least Howie got his back…

*

Tommy knocked on the door to Howie’s hospital room. He’d just been discharged moments earlier, but Howie would probably be here another day or so. “Hey…” he said, pushing the door open, and walking inside. 

“Hey Tommy!” Howie said brightly, despite the peakedness in his eyes. Jonah had really done a number on him, it made Tommy sick to his stomach. “What brings you in?” 

Tommy could never tell when Howie was just fucking with him, or is serious. So if Hen had told him everything, Tommy wasn’t sure. The facade never let up, though. Howie never mentioned Jonah more than a remark about the incident, then in true Howie fashion he was on to other— much happier— topics. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once Chimney leaves the stand, and is walking back to his seat, Tommy finally lifts his head back up. He quickly averts his eyes from Chimney, looking back down at his hands, at the window… at the jurors. Chimney bypasses his seat and comes right over to Tommy’s, pulling him into a hug. “I love ya, man.”

Buck hears Tommy suck in a sharp shaky breath. He nods into the embrace and mumbles something inaudible, but Chimney smiles at it and returns to his seat. 

The next person called up is Hen. 

Again the DA sticks to the source material. Asks about her time working with Jonah, his transfer, and Claudette’s untimely death. He has her explain her suspicions, and her findings… and finally, once again, the court is hearing her own recount of that night. 

Again… the defense comes for Hen’s friendship with Tommy. “So Mrs. Wilson… tell me about the call you received the day of the attack.”

Hen sighs, likely since she already talked about the call with the DA. “Jonah called me—”

“So sorry to interrupt you, Mrs. Wilson… but not that call.” Hen stares at him confused. “The one before that. Is it true you received a call from Mr. Kinard before you spoke with my client. He was upset with you… for digging into my client's past.”

“I’m sorry, I’m confused how you even know about that…” Hen says without answering. 

“The cameras…” Tommy whispers, then laughs sarcastically. “I- I always… suspected…” he continues, looking at Buck. “He would know things: things I’d done while he was gone, people who came over, things that were said. I knew he had cameras on me… I just never found them.” 

The defense requests Hen just answer the question, and the judge presses that she does as well. “Yes. I spoke to Tommy that day, and— and he was upset I was digging. Yes.” 

“He asked you to drop it, correct?”

“Yes.”

The attorney gives another drawn out pause. He walks over to his table and takes a sip of water, and Buck catches him locking eyes momentarily with Jonah. “Were you aware Mr. Kinard encouraged my client to get to know you, Mrs. Wilson?” 

“I was not,” Hen says. 

“How does that information make you feel?” 

Hen narrows her eyes at the attorney. “I don’t understand… Am I supposed to feel a certain way from that?” She doesn’t give the man a moment to counter her statement with more questions before saying, “Tommy is a friend. Jonah was my partner. It makes sense he would like for us to get along.”

“But you didn’t even know they were together.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

The defense attorney scoffs. “Did it not matter when you were being attacked? When you were watching your best friend have his heart stopped and restarted, over and over and over.”

“That had nothing to do with Tommy,” Hen snaps back. “I- I don’t understand these questions. Jonah is the one on trial, not Tommy. Why is this suddenly about him?”

“I’m just trying to see the full picture here, Mrs. Wilson,” the man says, calmly. “That perhaps— at the very least— my client isn’t the only one at fault…” 

Buck nearly leaps out of his seat at that, and Tommy holds on to him tightly to stop it.

“Jonah is the only one at fault here,” Hen says. “I almost lost two friends that night, because of him,” she looks directly at Tommy as she says that. “He deserves to rot in jail.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hen pulled up out front of Tommy’s house. 

He walked out of the garage where he’d just finished setting up his Muay Thai mats and a workout bench, and waved at her. “Sorry for my rugged appearance,” he teased, gesturing to his haggard appearance: a stretched out and holey shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and some tattered gym shorts. “Wasn’t expecting visitors…” He never expected visitors. 

“Chim said your new place was niceee…” Hen laughed. “I needed to see for myself.”

They navigated to the kitchen island, sitting on the barstools with glasses of sweet tea, catching up. “How’s Howie doing?” Tommy asked. 

“He’s better,” she replied, resting her head on one hand. “How are you doing?”

Tommy shrugged, and sighed. “I’ve been through worse,” he said… and he had… but at the same time, this hurt was so different. It was deep rooted, and he wondered if he’d ever be truly free from it.

*

It didn’t take long for Evan to almost have him free from it. He worked tirelessly— and in the beginning… he didn’t even realize he was doing it— chopping away at the bigger roots, breaking them up and killing them.

“Still managing to keep up?” Hen asked approaching him after Evan announced, at one of Bobby’s summer barbecues, that he and Tommy were going on a vacation away together. Just a few months in and dropping an insane amount of money to have Evan all to himself for four days and three nights… yeah, he would find a way to manage for that. “He’s a lot to handle… I’m sure,” Hen laughed, looking over to where Evan was playing with all the kids. 

“Yeah, well… He’s worth every bit of it. Besides, I’ve handled way worse.” 

The two were silent for a while, then Hen smiled and nudged him with her elbow. “I’m happy for you, Tommy,” she said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buck paces back and forth in the hall. 

They were dismissed for lunch and Bobby offered to go grab everyone some food; Buck doubts he’ll be able to eat anything. He is too pissed. “What is he— is he trying to pin this all on Tommy?! Is that even legal? Can he do that?! Jonah is the one on trial here!”

Maddie has taken Buck’s place beside Tommy, and is currently trying to distract him from the meltdown Buck can’t seem to stop himself from having by talking to him about the pregnancy. He smiles sympathetically— appreciatively. 

“Jonah is facing life without the possibility of parole…” Athena says. “His lawyer is probably hoping if he can deviate some of the blame to someone else, the jury won’t be able to agree on that.” Buck sees Tommy flinch at that, knowing he is the ‘someone else’. 

Suddenly the doors pull open and the DA hurries out. “Great! I was hoping you all hadn’t gone far,” he says. “So change of plans. Tommy… I’m calling you up before Bobby.” 

“What?!” nearly the entire group says unanimously.

“B- But I thought I wasn’t going up until the defense had the floor,” Tommy adds.

“You weren’t,” the DA replies. “But I don’t like how his attorney keeps bringing you into the narrative. If I don’t get you on that stand to tell your side of the story… before he labels you as an accomplice… your side might not matter to the jury.” 

Not surprisingly after that, no one has much of an appetite once Bobby returns with the food. Everyone just sits and stares at their meals, solemnly waiting to return to the courtroom. 

The DA calls on Tommy as a surprise witness when the trial starts back up. The defense doesn’t seem to care, and the judge allows it. Buck wishes he could walk him to the stand, but the only comfort he can offer is a quick kiss before he goes. 

Just like in his office, the DA asks Tommy a series of common questions; the same ones he asked Hen and Chimney. Then he explains that the defense is making it seem like Tommy was an accomplice in the defendants reign of terror, when in fact he was not; he, too, was subject to it. He turns to Tommy and apologizes for asking him to share what was surely such a difficult time in his life, but he feels it is only fair given how the defense keeps implying Tommy played a part. “If you would, share with the jury exactly what your role in Mr. Greenway’s life was.” 

“A mistake.” Jonah suddenly blurts out, earning him a gavel strike from the judge and his lawyer hissing for him to be quiet. But the word seemed to have an effect on Tommy. 

“Please, Mr, Kinard…” the DA urges him to share his story, and once again— in front of his friends and family, and a bunch of strangers— he does. The courtroom falls into an eerie silence as he tells how they met, how they connected… how they quickly went from a normal couple to the toxic mess they were in the end. “I am so sorry for all you went through, Mr. Kinard. Just… one more question. Did you have any idea Jonah was going to attack Mr. Han, and Mrs. Wilson.” 

Tommy shook his head, a tear falling from his eye. “Not until it was too late.” 

The DA thanks him, and offers a smile… before passing the baton to the defense. The man pushes up to his feet and greets Tommy. “I thought we’d be having this conversation much later, but… no time like the present when it comes to justice being served, am I right?” He doesn’t wait for Tommy to respond before he is walking around the table and towards the stand. “You had been dating my client for quite some time at the time of the incident, isn’t that correct, Mr. Kinard?” Tommy swallows and nods. “I need you to verbally answer the question, sir.”

“Y- yes… almost two years.” 

“And how long had these… games— or, role plays, as you called them— been going on for?” 

“A- A while…” 

“Please elaborate on how long a while is,” the attorney says, crossing his arms.

“It— It started about seven months after we got together. Right after we moved into our apartment.” 

The attorney nods along with the information, walking towards the jury as he says, “That’s more than a year you allowed this man to enact these— would you say, experiments on you.” Again Tommy only nodded. “Out loud, Mr. Kinard.”

“Y- Yes…” Tommy replies, bringing a shaking hand up to wipe his eyes. Bobby has moved to Tommy’s spot, and has a hand resting on Buck's arm, ready to grab him if he moves. 

“So for more than a year, you were aware of what Mr. Greenway was capable of.” Tommy looks up at him, opening his mouth to speak, but no words come out. “For more than a year you were aware he had access to propofol. You were aware because you allowed him to use it on you. You allowed him to stop your heart, so he could then revive you… as part of some pretty dark game between the two of you,  and yet you never suspected he might do it to someone else.” 

“I- I didn’t…”

“What about when you called Mrs. Wilson, and she told you what she’d found.”

“I didn’t believe her at first.”

“At first?” 

Tommy tries to steady his breathing, wiping furiously at his eyes. “No. Not until Jonah said what he was going to do.”

“And you just… didn’t try to stop him.” 

“I- I called the cops on him.”

“You did…” The lawyer agrees, but is looking at Tommy like he’s got two heads. “Why didn’t you just stop him from leaving.”

“I couldn’t,” Tommy gasps out. 

“Why wouldn’t you just stop him from doing this things— playing these games— these role plays, if you weren’t actually enjoying them.” 

“I— I couldn’t!!” 

“You couldn’t… or you chose not to.”

“I wanted to stop him!” Tommy cries out. 

Buck wants to leap across the courtroom, scoop Tommy up and run out with him. He’d expected it to get ugly… this is almost too much to bear. 

The attorney steps close to Tommy and leans himself against the stand by his arms. “You have a very troubled past, so I’ve heard, Mr. Kinard… perhaps you got off on power finally being in your hand, just the same as Mr. Greenway did.”

“That— that’s not true…”

“Then why didn’t you stop him,” the attorney repeats. “He was going to attack two of your so-called friends… and you did nothing to stop him.”

“I wanted to…” 

“But you didn’t. You let him leave. You let him attack them. He almost killed Mr. Han, after the man saved your life… Perhaps that’s what you wanted him to do.” Tommy looks at him with tears in his eyes and shakes his head. “Use your words, Mr. Kinard.” 

“He told me not to move,” Tommy snaps loudly. “I s- swear I didn’t know he was going to do this… but I couldn’t have stopped him regardless.” He breaks his eyes away from the attorney and looks towards Chimney and Hen. “I’m so- so sorry…” he cries then keeps repeating I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry… until his eyes lock on Buck’s, and he finally seems to be able to take a deep breath. 

“Someone needs to stop these questions…” Buck says softly. 

“He told you not to move,” the attorney repeats, ignoring how Tommy only nods at that. “Let the jury note that Mr. Kinard is more than twice my client’s size…” he says with clear humor laced through this voice. The DA objects, the judge allows it. Buck is getting more pissed by the second. He watches the defense attorney turn and look at Jonah. He watches Jonah’s smile widen, and he nods approvingly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The control Jonah had over Tommy was… embarrassingly strong. 

Tommy was so eager to just make him happy— keep him happy— so when he wasn’t, Tommy was upset by it. Jonah targeted that reaction and played with it. He built on it and poked at it… until before long, all he had to do was yell at Tommy for long enough and his heart would give out. 

It took time… and Jonah still needed to administer a little propofol at the end to fully seal the deal. But it was like a fun pastime for him. He would go from sweet and attentive to screaming in Tommy’s face and calling him every name under the sun— until Tommy was crying and gasping for air, overwhelmed and on the verge of passing out. 

Sometimes he would pass out, only to wake up from Jonah shocking his heart back. 

After Jonah… Tommy didn’t think his heart could handle much of anything anymore… much less falling in love. 

There was one time with a guy who approached him during Karaoke Trivia Night. He was bold… brave, but not in a good way. He pushed boundaries the moment Tommy tried to set them, and took with no intention of giving anything in return… It boiled to a head by the third date when the guy started going off about some minor mishap with their meal and began screaming at their waitress. 

Tommy tried to de-escalate the situation but only it caused him to turn his annoyance and anger on Tommy; calling him too soft and a pushover. Tommy felt like there was a vice around his lungs and he couldn’t draw in enough air to give proper oxygen to his brain. He ended up in the ER, and single that night. 

No more… he told himself after such a disaster. 

Sal, at some point, tried to set him up with one of his cousins. Lucy offered to introduce him to a former colleague she thought was his type. He thanked them and declined. Howie teased the idea of getting back on the dating apps… but instead he introduced him to Evan— unintentionally, of course… But he set him up with the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Not that it was always smooth sailing. 

He only just managed to stop a panic attack from happening during their first date. He told himself he’d read Evan wrong— he was good at that it seemed— and he tried to cut him loose before he got too entangled in the idea of the sweet, big hearted, impulsiveness that was Evan Buckley. 

Then he got the text. Meet me for coffee? And just a moment later it was followed by a pls :) He was so adorable,Tommy couldn’t help but humor whatever he had in mind for the meeting— even if it was just closure. 

Of course, it was so he could apologize… and then immediately invite him to Howie’s wedding— which he was already invited to, but he definitely didn’t mind being Evan’s date at all. 

Evan was kind… in a way Tommy had never known before. He was patient and attentive. He was clingy— holy fuck, he was so clingy… but not in a bad way. In a way that made Tommy feel special, and wanted… and loved.  

Tommy felt loved by Evan…

And it made it so easy to love Evan in return. 

Throughout the six months Tommy was so wrapped up in all things Evan… he was completely blindsided when his past came back to haunt him. He should have expected his little bubble to burst eventually…

He opened his door to his mailman handing him the certified letter calling him in as a witness in Jonah’s trial. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey! That— That’s enough!” Buck yells, jumping up to his feet regardless of Bobby’s hold on his arm. 

“Buck sit down,” Bobby hisses, tugging on him. 

“No… he— he is getting off on this. Look at him!” Buck gesture wildly at Jonah, who laughs— he actually fucking laughs. Buck clenches his jaw and starts out into the aisle as the judge bangs her gavel down in protest. 

“Sir, do I need to have you removed from this courtroom?” 

Athena beats him out and stops him before he can start towards Jonah. “Outside… now.” 

“B- But Athen—”

“Now, Buck!” 

She gently grabs his arm, and leads him out into the hall… Buck turns to see Tommy watching, panickedly, as the doors close. He sighs and plops down on a bench waiting for her scolding… it surprisingly doesn’t come. “Athena… he— he is trying to— I don’t know what he’s trying to do. But he’s acting like Tommy is—”

“We all knew this was going to be hard, Buck. For everyone… but mostly for Tommy.” 

“I can’t stand seeing him upset like this,” Buck replies. “Knowing I can’t— I can’t do anything to help him.” 

“Keeping yourself calm is helping him… not winding up in jail… is helping him.” She raises her brows and smirks. “Remember what Chim said… at the end of the day we all get to walk away… Jonah doesn’t.”

Buck wants to agree, though he doubts it will be that simple— the door cracks open before he can pick one. “Buck…” Taylor says and her voice is carrying a concerned tone that has Buck instantly back up on his feet. “Your man’s not looking too good up there…” She steps aside and lets Buck back into the courtroom only for him to see Tommy gripping the arm of his chair with one hand and his chest with the other. He’s Gasping for air, and both Hen and Chim have been allowed up to try to check on him.

Jonah, leaning forward like he’s trying to see better, looks thrilled. 

Suddenly Tommy's eyes pop open, so wide they look like they might fall out of his head and he looks at Jonah. “Please… please please please… Jonah. H- Help…”

Buck looks at Jonah who dons an innocent smile as he holds his hands up as high as the cuffs will allow him and shrugs. “No can do, baby…” he says. Tommy gasps and tries to stand up from the chair. His eyes are still locked on Jonah as he continues to plead for help from him. 

“We need some help in here,” Chimney yells towards the cops standing guard by the door. A couple ran out to get paramedics, but haven’t returned. Those left try calling them on the radio. Hen tries to guide Tommy out of the chair… he doesn’t budge, his eyes don’t move from Jonah’s. 

“Fascinating isn’t it…” Buck hears Jonah say to his lawyer, who looks equally as upset at the sudden turn of events as everyone else does. “After all this time he still knows who has control of him.” 

“J- Jonah…” Tommy whimpers from the stand. His lips are starting to turn blue and Buck hears a mayday call from one of the cops walkies that there  is a disturbance in the lobby. Paramedics are being held up by a group of “crazy people saying the Angel Of Death will have his revenge”. 

“Let him help…” Buck blurts out, thinking it just might be the only way. Hen and Chimney look at him in shock. His attention is only on Tommy, who looks about ready to pass out. “He— he needs Jonah…” he says, and tries to pretend the thought doesn’t hurt. “Let Jonah help him.”

The judge rolls her eyes, but allows Jonah to be led to the stand. His handcuffs are undone so he can reach up and cup Tommy’s cheek. “Oh, baby…” he says and Tommy leans into the touch. “You’ve been so good for me,” he coos. “So predictable. So weak.” Tommy doesn’t even flinch, but his breathing doesn’t steady either. “Just like all the other mistakes.” 

“W- What…” he gasps.

“Except your mistake was staying alive… when you were meant to die.” Tommy’s brow furrows as he tries to pull away from Jonah. “At least I actually get to watch it happen now.” 

Buck feels like all the air sucks out of the room as Tommy’s eyes widen, then flutter closed, and he stops breathing. “Get him away,” Hen screams, and the deputies re-cuff Jonah and pull him to the side of the courtroom. Hen and Chimney get Tommy out of the chair and onto the floor, and Chimney starts CPR. 

“W- where are those paramedics?” Buck screams at the cops. 

“No pulse…” Hen says at the same time, and then Buck is moving to the front of the courtroom. off to the side Jonah is laughing… and Buck just wants to rip his head off. A hand grabs his shoulder before he can march over to him; Bobby is there telling him Jonah’s not worth it… he needs to get to Tommy.

Buck listens, and goes instead to where they have Tommy laid out on the floor. He takes his hand and brings it to his lips. “H- Hey sweetheart,” he says. 

Hen checks for a pulse, looks at Chimney and shakes her head. 

“You- You’re safe now, we— we got you. You're gonna be okay, okay… you have to be” Buck says to him. 

No pulse. 

“You know what I— I had planned for that date, for our anniversary? I was going to tell you my lease is up in a month… I was hoping you would consider living together… be- because I want that, so bad. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sweetheart. I need you to wake up so I can tell you that, okay? 

“Let us through,” the paramedics yell, finally getting to the courtroom. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You are nothing,” Jonah used to say when he’d get mad at Tommy. “Without me you will forever be alone.”

Tommy had truly believed that. Until Evan.

Until Evan he pictured a life of loneliness and a broken heart. 

With Evan, Tommy imagined the most beautiful life. A home finally full of happiness, and love, and laughter. A man who might someday be his husband. Who looked at him like he hung the moon. Who treated him like he was worthy of good things. 

He saw a future. He saw children. He saw them growing old together, and turning gray. He saw the things he’d only ever dared to dream, finally becoming a possibility… For the first time in his life he was truly happy with no strings attached, and he deserved that… right?

“You are nothing…” Jonah used to tell him.

“You’re my everything,” Evan says instead, and he sounds like he’s crying. Tommy can feel Evan’s hand in his, and his hand is trembling… 

The cool metal of shears slide up his skin as his shirt is cut open. Nodes are placed on his chest and he is checked for a pulse. “No pulse…” he hears. “Clear…” he hears. 

“I love you…” he hears. It’s all he needs to hear…

He opens his eyes, and he takes a breath. 

*

At the hospital, after he is thoroughly checked and Evan is given the green light to go full cling mode… he does just that. Hen gives him hell about laying on top of Tommy. “It’s okay he’s like a weighted blanket,” Tommy laughs, willing to argue with anyone who seriously tried to pry Evan off of him. 

“I was so scared,” Evan says… again, peppering his cheeks and eyes and nose and forehead with kisses, before coming back to his lips. 

Tommy smiles, and holds Evan to his chest. He lets  him rest his head there and listen to his heart, so he knows it’s really beating. 

The hospital wants him to start seeing a cardiologist. Eddie is quick to chime in with a suggestion; Dr. Salazar… Evan laughs against Tommy’s chest saying that Eddie is only saying that because he has a crush on her; but he recommends her as well, from his own experience, as does Howie, and Bobby. “It’s kind of sad that you all have a designated heart doctor if you think about it,” Tommy deadpans. 

Athena slides into the room, and makes her way over to Bobby, letting everyone know Jonah’s lawyer quit. He said he was told grilling Tommy would make him confess to being a part of Jonah’s work… he didn’t know it would cause him to nearly die. She also says Tommy has done his part, and will not have to reappear when the trial picks back up to conclude… although she’s sure Jonah’s little power stunt won’t sit well with the jurors when it comes to lessening his sentence from life without parole. 

“What about me…” Tommy asks. “Will I be charged? Or— Or lose my job?” 

“Why would you,” Evan rebuts, lifting his head to look at Tommy. “You— you didn’t do anything.” 

“I doubt everyone feels that way…” Tommy sighs.

“Then they can keep their very wrong opinions to themselves,” Hen says. “I don’t hold anything against you.”

“Neither do I,” Howie says, with that bright smile. 

“The ones who matter, have your back…” Evan says, pressing a kiss to Tommy's jaw. “We all love you.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One month later

“Do we have to do this right now,” Evan pouts, dragging his feet behind Tommy as he enters the closet. He comes right up behind Tommy and wraps his arms around his body. “There are so many things I would rather be doing to you— I mean with you— on our day off.” Tommy feels Evan’s lips curl into a smile against the back of his neck.

“You… are a menace,” Tommy laughs, turning in the embrace to face Evan. He leans in and kisses him, slow and passionately, until Evan is sighing into it. “Soon as we’re done, I’m all yours.” 

That gets him a deep pout, and he nips at the jutted out lip before turning and moving clothes over to make room for Evan’s, and pulling out things to get rid of. He reaches up to the top shelf, all the way to the back… and pulls out the defibrillator. 

Evan stares at it, running a hand across Tommy’s shoulder. “Here,” Tommy says after a long pause. He hands the machine to Evan who looks at it confused. “Donation pile.”

“Are— are you sure? Wh- What if—”

“I don’t need it anymore,” Tommy says, feeling the tug in his cheeks from the smile that’s spreading across his face. “I know my heart is in good hands.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@sunnywithachanceofbi @weewookinard @xtarmanderx @racerchix21 @sad-girl-hours23

@laundryandtaxesworld @swagmaster9k @iphyslitterator @adian-ua @littlepaws9

@exhaustedpirate @unhingedangstaddict @quintessenceofdust88 @mrhappyjavaman @bibibievansbuckley

@owlgirl495 @babygirltommykinard

[krashlite]

Again, if you found this before the Start Post or TIES’ post, go back and read! I’m going through and analyzing the matching wounds for each LimL alliance

Continuing off of TIES’ section; they all had a shaky past with Bdubs, so it’s really no surprise they ended up in conflict with the Clockers

But speaking of the Clockers, let’s look at them next. For the Clockers, all three of them have issues with day 1 crews, on how they focus on this randomized group above all else. Except they have different issues regarding it

There was a lot of Bdubs slander in the TIES section so let’s start with him. I’ve already mentioned that he’s very headstrong, but he Is well meaning. For the Crastle, he was acting in defense of Cleo and everyone who sought shelter in their walls. For the snow fort, he was acting in defense of Etho, seeing team BEST as a conduit for this. In DL he poured his heart and soul into his alliance with Impulse. The connection with these three is also shown symbolically- remember, it’s canon that he was married to all three in their respective seasons! His loyalties lay with them above all else, and everything he did was always done For Them

(And yes, the marriage thing makes it Hella Weird with LimL introducing family dynamics. Personally, I go chronologically with things. If the marriage was introduced Before the family dynamics, the marriage is what I go with. If the family dynamics were introduced Before the marriage, the family dynamics are what I go with. It’s not perfect, especially with SL calling back to LimL, but moving on)

But with him pouring everything into defending his One Person, he has a bad habit of either disregarding or outright hurting other allies. In his mind, once they’ve become a threat, they will always Be a threat to him and his One Person.

In 3L, I would argue the firing squad wasn’t about the helmet, but about Dare to Flare, the deadly minigame Tango had set up as a loophole for murder. Bdubs thought the lesson would be learned and Tango would just. Go back to being their ally, but he didn’t see that he’d just pushed Tango away. Bdubs was also quick to catch that Impulse was playing all sides, losing his trust in him even as Cleo wanted to keep Impulse as a double agent.

Bdubs went along with it for her, the same way he went along with other alliances that Cleo had decided to negotiate. But when Cleo was gone before him, he was completely lost! The moments after Cleo’s death are honestly HARROWING from Bdubs’s point of view. One moment they’re talking, the next Cleo is attacking Ren and is struck down. Bdubs is surrounded, he is alone, and is made to understand that nobody is coming to save him, not even Impulse, who was present for this! I think a part of him blames Impulse specifically for Cleo’s death, with Impulse failing to act against Dogwarts in that moment. It’s irrational as hell but that’s where he’s at. Impulse was playing all sides and, in Bdubs’ mind, had just cost him the One Person Bdubs truly cared about

So again, OF COURSE he turned on Impulse!! He had zero reason to trust him!!

In LL things got oh so much more complicated. I don’t think Bdubs ever intended to be a part of a larger group, he only intended to be with Etho. So he was Mainly tolerating Tango and Skizz so long as 1) they helped the overall group and 2) Etho wanted to stay. Except Tango and Skizz were clumsy on missions and had issues communicating with him and Etho, who were very close and had an easier time planning and communicating. Etho’s lighthearted jabs at this turned sharper through Bdubs’ comments and actions. I think Bdubs was frustrated with being put in the same situation he was in last season- having to stay with an alliance he Did Not Want for the sake of his One Person, and his comments/actions reflect that

He was willing to see them die and use them for Lives for the overall group, but he wasn’t willing to let Etho go down- which is again seen in the Wither fight. It’s also seen in his final death, with him turning on his fellow Reds since he thought it meant he could make it back to Etho’s side

Then in DL, he doesn’t learn his lesson! He only doubles down, making it clear to Impulse where his loyalties lie. Bdubs Only Cares About Impulse, and they’re more than willing to watch the world burn as a unit. Bdubs wanting them to be home wreckers also serves as him putting his foot down- refusing to be a part of alliances he doesn’t like. I don’t think they had any allies this season aside from one another, which honestly worked perfectly for them in DL!! Bdubs was able to fulfill a role that came naturally to him and Impulse didn’t have to worry about the stress of maintaining a larger group

And it’s because they worked so well together that Bdubs can’t wrap his head around the idea that He Killed Impulse. Bdubs knows that he would never, EVER, do something like that to his One Person, so Impulse asking for an apology in LimL comes as a complete shock to him.

And I think it’s something that affects LimL for him as a whole, but also ties back to the setting. Again, it’s made clear that Nobody is surviving this, so it would be pointless for Bdubs to act in defense of his One Person. With him being unable to focus on this as his motivation, he’s forced to focus on a group, on the Clockers (HOWEVER he still has his devastating connection to Etho and that’s not going away anytime soon). This also forces him to confront the issues that caused previous teams to fail

And I’d argue Cleo’s in a very similar spot as him

Cleo’s loyalties had always been her day 1 crew, with her standing by them regardless of what happened. They belonged to the group and the group belonged to them as equals. If the ship was going down, then goddamnit Cleo would go down with it, which is especially seen in 3L with her attacking Ren. Cleo wanted to be done with this war and this entire conflict and thought that if they just struck now, if they just killed Ren, their issues would be over. Remember, the Crastle’s main conflict was regarding Dogwarts! Cleo didn’t know who to trust because Impulse was always acting all buddy-buddy with the red banners and Tango was off doing his own thing.

I think this is also why Cleo ran off to Scott as a backup alliance before then- Scott presents himself as being a safe person, someone who stays out of conflict but defends himself when needed. Cleo needed that backup alliance for reassurance, since it was clear that Bdubs was likely going to die before her. Not only that but the aforementioned trust issues with the rest of her party. (And yes! This is a contradiction of them “going down with the ship,” we call that a Character Flaw)

Except that plan falls through when Scott dies, by Ren’s hand no less, and Cleo’s right back in the scenario they’d been in before. They’re right back to wondering when the other shoe was going to drop

So them attacking Ren was a moment of frustration, wanting clarity and lashing out against the source of her problems; Ren

Except this act is what did Cleo in, and she never really got to see where any of them stood. Well, except for Bdubs but I already discussed him At Length

LL was again, an ENTIRE mess for Cleo. The whole gimmick in LL was there to make people distrust the people around them, and BOY HOWDY did Cleo distrust people! She was never fully sold on the Fairy Fort but thought that if they just stayed together, then they’d be able to defend each other- strength in numbers! Really, BigB was the only person that Cleo fully trusted, with them having their own separate base together and Cleo going to BigB when she didn’t trust the rest of the group.

Again, she values her day 1 ally above all else, and in this season that was BigB. They stood together as equals, even with Lizzie and Ren at their side.

Which makes it all the more heartbreaking when BigB turned on her, because she would never, EVER do the same to him. They were equals, it was them against the world and BigB had just gone against that bond. Cleo also refuses to emphasize with his perspective because of the fact that BigB had AMPLE opportunity to tell Cleo he was cursed, but he just Didn’t. She trusted him, she trusted the fort, and she would never make that same mistake twice

Cleo once again retreated to Scott. He and Pearl welcomed her with open arms and provided what stability they could for her, considering Cleo was flirting with death every other episode. They also helped Cleo get her revenge, making it abundantly clear that they stood With Her. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, both of them told her when they were the boogeyman. There were Zero secrets between the three of them and Cleo was never given a reason to question their loyalty. Communication is key!

And here’s where things flip. Cleo goes from supporting her day 1 crew above all else, to the understanding that a day 1 crew isn’t a guarantee. Said crew has only ever caused her problems, and Cleo only ever found stability with her second option

So when DL rolls around, Cleo’s left in a weird spot. Their day 1 ally is the one person who was ever stable for them, Scott, with her designated ally, Martyn, causing problems right off the bat. Except Martyn isn’t the only one that brings trouble for them, with Pearl being a near constant threat to her and Scott. Both her first option, And her backup are causing problems. So now it’s not a question of who’s loyal to her, but who she wants to align herself with.

And Cleo Doesn’t Know. She stays with Scott for the most part, but is also willing to hear Martyn out as he makes a fool of himself trying to get her back. But I think the main thing that draws Cleo back to Martyn is the fact that they’re linked- that if Martyn hurts her, he hurts himself. That’s a reassurance Cleo doesn’t get with Scott as an ally, and ultimately what drives their decision to turn against Scott in the finale

So in case you didn’t catch it- the similarity for Bdubs and Cleo is specific to their tie to their One Person/day 1 alliance. They’re willing to do Everything for this person/group but are consistently either harmed or causing harm through that connection. For Cleo it causes her to be paranoid but for Bdubs it makes him double down on that loyalty. They end up balancing each other out in LimL, but what about Scar?

For Scar, he ONLY has his day 1 ally and no one else. This was quickly established for him in 3L, with Grian being the only person to consistently stand by him. Scar didn’t see this as a part of their agreement, he saw this as a decision Grian made over and over again. This is even expressed in his speech at the end of 3L, with Scar offering his life to Grian in return for everything he’d done to keep Scar alive. They started out together, and they would ultimately die together. And, most importantly, Scar didn’t have anyone else to turn to. It was made abundantly clear that nobody else would take him in, both with Grian being the only person to attempt an alliance at the start and with Scar being put on his red name so early on. Scar ultimately decides that if people aren’t with him through fate, they will never stand by him, and he’s fine with it! At first

Scar goes into LL with the same expectation, that his team would stay together until the bitter end and everyone else is against him. Except Joel is extremely quick to go down to red, an alliance that Scar is never really able to salvage. This leaves Scar alone, and he accepts this as an immediate Fact. He doesn’t see the point in reaching out to anyone, opting instead for scams and empty threats, the same tactic that worked so well for him last time.

And that sort of becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, with him turning away potential allies through his actions. He thought he’d end up alone and created a scenario where he Was Alone. Really, this only serves to reinforce the idea that he will always end up on his own

Enter; DL

This season HEAVILY reinforced his previous mindset, but it also gave him a reason to fight against it. Scar didn’t Have a day 1 alliance, he was fully willing to base alone and to be without a soulmate. Except Grian comes along to drag him into an alliance

And this mirrors 3L to a T but it ALSO flips their dynamic. Grian wasn’t following Scar’s lead, Scar was following his. From his perspective, Scar was the one doing whatever he could to maintain them, and Grian was the one endangering himself. Again, this is opposed to 3L when Scar was endangering himself and Grian was doing everything he could to maintain them

Except Grian does nothing but sabotage their relationship. I think the flipped roles here kind of forces Scar to realize “oh, I’m not destined to be alone, I push people away.” But there’s also an added layer on top of that- Grian doesn’t respect him.

I’ve mentioned that little tidbit in other posts, but Scar really isn’t respected this season! 3L he was respected as a threat, LL he lost that respect through the travelling salesman bit, and DL puts him in a weird spot. He’s respected as a Loose Cannon but isn’t respected as his own person- as in people have a reason to be wary of him but don’t consider his opinions on plans and other things

So going into LimL, Scar’s fully expecting the same treatment and is more or less blindsided by how supportive the Clockers were. His day 1 crew stuck with him!! Not day 1 Ally, day 1 CREW. He finally had a group that stood with him

Somewhat unrelated but I think it’s also important to note that Scar doesn’t expect to survive in Any season. He’s operating under the assumption that death is imminent, wanting to live a life of fun and luxury in what time he still has. In other words, he’s staring with the worldview that’s taught in LimL!! It’s challenged repeatedly but keeps getting reinforced

But to recap; the three of them value their day 1 ally above all else, and are lost without said ally. Bdubs doesn’t know what to do with himself if he doesn’t have his One Person, Cleo becomes paranoid if their day 1 ally is distrustful, and Scar typically doesn’t form connections with Anyone if he doesn’t have a day 1 ally.

But on top of that, Bdubs and Scar are usually following in their teams. Bdubs is headstrong, but ultimately lives to support his One Person. Scar comes up with plans, but doesn’t necessarily want to be in a leadership position. Cleo, on the other hand, does very well in leadership positions because it gives her more control over what’s going on around her. Leading takes away the unpredictability that would come with following

Bdubs and Scar need direction and Cleo’s able to give that to them. While at the same time, Cleo’s learning to be more comfortable with unpredictability. They have! Two loose cannons! But Cleo knows they’re unpredictable and is better equipped to manage that “threat”

Really, together the three of them are able to confront how closed off they are, allowing themselves to trust one another. And this trust is tested!! Especially with Bdubs maintaining a connection with Etho, who’s on another team entirely. AND THAT IS!! SO IMPORTANT FOR BDUBS because he’s forced into a position where he has to realize the harm he’s caused

Looping back around to TIES, basically that entire team had previous issues with him!! They stay at odds with one another because Bdubs refuses to acknowledge he did anything wrong. No he never reconciled with them, but he did start to confront his own issues. He doesn’t single anyone out as a danger, he spends so much time proving he’s loyal to the Clockers that he never falls back on paranoia

Then in Scar’s case, he’s both allowed to be dangerous and respected as a part of the group. NOT ONLY THAT but other alliances respect him! He isn’t constantly running around trying to prove he’s worth people’s respect, it’s just automatically granted to him

I don’t have a neat way to close this off, but something something accepting danger and learning to trust regardless of that danger

Start Post | TIES | Bad Boys

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 7: Bury/Unearth

Summary: Three young kids bury a time capsule together. Years later they dig it back up as teens.

AO3 link

(Bury: Years in the past with an eight year old and two six year olds)

"Jazzy! Jazzy Jazzy Jazzy Jazzy!"

A young child with fluffy black hair and the brightest blue eyes excitedly pulls his sister to their backyard, where his best friend is waiting.

"Danny, what do you want? I'm trying to read my big kid books."

"But Jazzy, me and Tucker saw some older kids do something cool and you say to make sure you know what we're doing if we need tools!"

Taking a bit to respond, the big sister goes "Why do you even need tools? Cause I'm not giving you the stuff mom and dad use in the lab."

"Nuh uh! Some big kids had a box full of cool stuff and buried it, they were talking about coming back for it in the future! We only wanted a shovel because our plastic ones weren't working!"

Tucker quickly nods his head, equally excited to do this with his best friend and needing Jazz's approval.

"Of course you don't know what a time capsule is," Jazz acts annoyed with them but the boys could see her starting to smile, "Only if I can put stuff in it, too."

"YES!"

"Permission acquired!"

The three kids quickly found an unused small box, Jazz made sure it was plastic and could seal so it could last, and grabbed some things they don't mind parting with for the time being that still hold meaning.

"OK, the last step probably isn't required but we should leave a message to our future selves!" Jazz proclaimed, as excited as the two younger kids now that they are almost done. Having a blast alongside them.

Messages written and placed in individual envelopes, all promising not to read each other's, everything was set to encase their capsule in the earth until further notice. They hoped maybe ten years but none of them ever put a year on it, just a promise that it will happen when they are grown.

It took all day and a bit past dinner, after Tucker called his parents to stay over, and the deed had been completed. It was the closest they have ever felt until now.

---------

(Unearth: Present day: ten years later. Parents are gone for the day and the kids goof off as Jazz enjoys a rare day to relax.)

A rare day with no parents and a light amount of ghost attacks finds Team Phantom a chance to chill together. Cujo runs around the Fenton backyard in puppy form, adorable as ever.

Suddenly, Cujo comes to a dead stop. As if possessed, ironic right, and starts to dig up one small section of the yard. Only stopping once he reached his goal.

"What do you have there, buddy?" Sam, asked the currently small dog. He had a dirty, plastic container in his mouth. Or at least the corner of it. The thing was as big as his small body as a whole box.

Covered by ghostly dog slobber. Ewww.

Sam may not have recognized the box, but three others did. They forgot about all of that but now, seeing their time capsule, has it all come rushing back.

"Is that our time capsule?!" Jazz broke the stunned silence.

"Totally forgot about that thing!" Danny laughed in disbelief.

"Dude, we need to see what we put in there!" Was shouted by Tucker in childlike glee.

All three voices overlapped in shouts but each were understood. Not helping with the noise level was Cujo, yapping alongside them to be included.

Sam, now frustrated and annoyed at being out of the loop, interrupts the noise.

"Alright, already! C'mon, just open the thing up if you're this excited over a piece of nostalgia."

She acts like she doesn't care but they can see her smile and the way her eyes zero in on the box, curious to what was put inside.

"Yeah, Sam's right. That and we don't want to summon you know who just by holding a cubic container." Danny says with an eye roll.

Danny makes the move to take the box from Sam and be the first to unseal it. A plastic container with the word 'Fenton' on it, made to contain even the most wryly of ectoplasmic movement inside. He is now grateful they did not get in trouble, or noticed, for taking an easy to reach one. Their parents always stored things all over the house and not just in the lab, after all.

Reaching in, he felt the trinkets and pulled them out one at a time. Showing them for the whole group to see.

First thing he touched was a book of some kind, must have been Jazz's contribution.

'Dragonology'.

"Forgot you were once into dragons..."

Face beat red, Jazz snatches the book from his hands. "Don't you start, Danny. I was eight! If dinosaurs could exist, why couldn't dragons?!"

"Y'know, she has a point," Sam piped in," We now know ghosts exist and we can't forget that Dora and Aragon have those amulets that turn anyone who wears them into dragons. There were several historical sources of them alive wearing those amulets. It even transformed me to a dragon before, too!"

"Fair enough," the boys both get it and there isn't really a point in arguing when she backs it up like that."

"Forgot that you were able to research Dora and that amulet the night of the dance. A lot has happened since then. Had to keep you from killing Paulina as a dragon for one." Danny recalls.

"Can I borrow this, later?" Sam asked Jazz after giving Danny a nod for that, heard and understood.

"Sure Sam," Jazz allows and passes the book to her, a bit fond and glad they can bond over something.

Sam, currently holding the book noticed something white and rectangular peaking out from behind the cover. "What's this?"

"Oh yeah, we wrote letters to our future selves! This one is clearly mine. Hand it over, please."

"Read it?"

"Yeah! Read it Jazz!" The boys both echo Sam's request.

"Ok, ok! I will," she looks at the trio in fond exasperation as she opens the letter. "Let's see..."

"Dear Future Jazz,

How are you? Do you get to accomplish our dreams? We are still super smart and helpful, right? Do I get any close friends like Danny has Tucker? Maybe when I'm your age, mom and dad will find spending time with us more interesting than ghosts and playing with their loud invenshuns that scare me and Danny!

P.S.

I hope you still take good care of bearburt!"

"Hey, what else is in there?" Jazz redirects the focus to the time capsule from her teary gaze, making a move to see for herself before Danny's hand went back in. He's the one holding it so she cant just take it!

"Up next is...." Danny pauses for dramatic effect as he grasps an object blindly, "Oh wow! Look at this blast from the past! Does it still work?"

An original game boy in all its glory.

"So that's where i put it! It was my dad's and i used to play that thing all the time before this. I forgot about it completely when my parents got me that game boy color when it was new." Tucker informs everyone as he remembers it all while inspecting it for its condition. "Good thing Jazz convinced me to take the batteries out! Hehe!"

Another envelope taped to the game boy containing another message from the past. This one went unnoticed until Danny was already reaching for what past Danny left for him, Tucker taking it and putting it in his pocket.

For once he doesn't mind not being noticed. But alas, none of them forgot that 'we' and that it wasn't just Jazz who wrote one.

Sighing and preparing for future embarrassment that he's sure something he wrote when he was little would bring him, he begins.

"Hey future me,

I guess if you're getting this, we remembered to dig this up. HA HA! How much has technology advanced since this great year of 1996? Bet me an' Danny are still super close, right? Can't wait to see what kind of empire we create together. Best of luck future me, your past self."

None of them were surprised to hear that message.

'Huh, that was actually pretty sweet.'

Tucker fears were not met at all and he was greatly relieved.

"Maybe I should show my dad I found it when I get home. He was pretty heartbroken when he found out I lost it. We could even pop some batteries back in this bad boy and see how it plays!"

The group laughs at his statement, having fun reminiscing.

The last thing was unsurprisingly a toy rocket, paint still crisp while in the box. Like it literally blasted off to meet him again. Danny's breath caught seeing it here.

"This was my special rocket, I used to play with this all the time. I even slept with it." Danny was able to identify his childhood toy he forgot about in an instant. A hidden pang of sadness hit him over the memories, hidden from the rest, as he recalls his favorite toy. A small, sad smile playing on his lips.

"If it was your favorite, why did you bury that one?"

To him it didn't matter who asked, he can tell they were all thinking it.

"To be honest, I don't fully remember the reason why." He begins, "I think it was a combination of dad's penchant for careless destruction around the house where anything could be a victim of it as well as our continuously reanimated dinners. I was scared it would get broken and when we came to Jazz for help with the project, this was the most special thing i could think of to seal away for my future I guess."

His words hang for a minute before Cujo starts to yap up a storm. Trying to get Danny's attention and praise for finding his toy like he once did for the pup, Cujo runs around and through everyone's feet. It even still smelled a little like him somewhat and he is a good boy, he found the box he couldn't phase through and now Danny has his toy back!

The perfect distraction from his own letter. Danny picks Cujo up as the group heads inside to watch some movies, everyone wanting to chill after these memories were shared.

Danny glanced at his own letter while everyone heads inside, sucking in a deep breath, and shouts.

"First one in gets to choose!"

And all four teens book it, lauhghing.

Intangibility forgotten.

Or more accurately, ignored.

Danny lagged behind, opting to read his letter sent from the past. Bittersweet and full of innocence.

Dear Future Danny,

Will you take this rocket with you when you are an astronaut? I'll miss it, but it will be safer with you. So please take good care of it.

Are mommy and daddy right about ghosts? Are they evil like they say or can they be nice? They say they are evil and that if the ghosties say otherwise then they are trying to hurt me. That doesn't make much sense but mommy and daddy just want to protect me, right? Even if they get loud and yell-y when they think a ghost is here. Or during Christmas please tell me they stopped

Are you still friends with Tucker? Is he still our bestest friend? Do we get lots and lots of friends? Other kids like to be mean to me because their parents want to be mean about mommy and daddy. At least that's what Jazzy said.

Do we ever get a pet? Maybe other kids will like me more if I had a dog or something? That and I just like dogs. Maybe it could even be friendly and cuddly and protective and never is too busy for me.

Please think of me when you reach the stars as an astronaut. Maybe one day we could even live up there! Wouldn't that be cool? I'd never want to come back down from space. Earth has bullies and mean kids and attacking dinner.

P.S.

Jazzy helped me write this. She an' Tucker finished fast but I had a lot to say to you. I love you future me!

Movie sounds and laughing ahead as he is stuck, standing there reading these innocently hopeful words while his friends start without him. For all his past self's hopes, not many came true. He technically did get a dog but not many can know about it. Tucker is still his closest and truest bro. But the things that didn't change for the better hurt, reminding him how cruel fate feels sometimes for circumstances not theirs to control.

Fresh tear stains hit a blank part under the paragraphs of things his younger self wanted him to know and possibly answer next to dried, years old water stains that look identical.

Wiping his eyes and hiding the letter, he rejoins the group with an excuse of sorts and the kids continue to enjoy their day.

[hailucy]

MANIFESTATION THINK PIECE

omg this week was such a good week when it came to manifesting and in such small ways but they made such an impact on my day/week!! This made me start to think about how we(at least some people) view manifesting/loa.

i feel like people think that small manifestations aren’t different to what people classify as big ones(df, db, shifting) because they’re just as easy as one other. All you have to do is believe, persist and it would come true.

HOWEVER

I want you to look at manifesting through the perspective as someone who has never had this big manifestation but obviously wants it badly(which i think was all of us at least at one point past or present).

To me at least, and others i believe, those big manifestations are something we have been wanting to have for a while and as time goes on it seems like it’s less achievable because if we could have anything we want wouldn’t we already have what we want?

so as time goes there’s less belief in either loa or are own abilities in achieving our manifestations.

But those small manifestations that happen on a random day solidify the belief in loa and our abilities.

For example, just this week i manifested for my exams to be easy and for me to have good grades and in small ways this became true. i didn’t know we had exams till the day before, i came into class and the same test(different paper) last time was so hard but this time i did it with near ease.

Another really important exam was done by another class therefore i was able to get the questions and study those specifically, doing well on the exam compared to if i didn’t have it which would mean i would have to study a whole year and a half of content in one afternoon. I also had a really important exam that same day as the other one and was given a formula sheet i didn’t know we would get and without it i would have nearly failed a whole section.

(i want to make it clear that although i view these as small manifestations others may not and that’s absolutely fine. when i mean big manifestations i mean life changing ones, these exams are important but im not suddenly a millionaire)

ANYWAYS

carrying on as to what i’m saying. these daily small manifestations that you do to alter your day reinforces your belief in your abilities and loa meaning that those desires that you think are ‘not possible’ become more in reach. you can do these tiny things so those big ones aren’t impossible.

YOU CAN DO IT EVERYONE

YOU’RE IN CONTROL AS TO HOW YOU LIVE YOUR LIFE

i have all that i desire

i have all that i want

my ko-fi

divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

[dollysilena]

TRAINING WHEELS

CHAPTER FOUR | THE START OF SOMETHING NEW

ao3 I series masterlist | previous chapter I next chapter

five years ago, you stupidly had a fling with inarizaki athlete, miya atsumu- now, present day- he had a son he knew nothing about. you made sure it was going to stay that way, but as fate would have it, he unexpectedly stumbled back into your lives, now as volleyball's biggest star.

wc & notes: 9.5k words (i am FRIED) — they said it couldn’t be done, but consider the “doesn’t update anymore” allegations BEAT. longer writers note on ao3 LMAO. pls enjoy and ignore any errors i am dying guys

“I can’t believe you never told me!”

You tossed a bag of apples into the grocery cart.

“You knew I had a crush on Miya Atsumu ever since I saw him shirtless on last year’s Vogue Japan cover! How could you not say anything?!”

You pretended to inspect a carrot thoroughly. Naomi wasn’t convinced. She knew you didn’t even like carrots.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

You started pushing the cart faster.

“Well, if you’re not going to answer, can you at least tell me if he was good in bed?”

The grocery cart came to a screeching halt as your eyes widened like saucers. The piercing sound made both of you wince as the supermarket stocker dropped a handful of vegetables from shock. You hurriedly scurried away to another section of the grocery store while Naomi trailed after you.

“I take that as a yes?” Naomi chuckled nervously. You stared daggers at her before your friend took the silent hint to shut up.

“Naomi,” you sighed, continuing through the snacks aisle. “It’s not exactly easy telling people the father of your son is Japan’s biggest athlete. Don’t take it the wrong way, I never meant for anyone to find out,” 

“But you can see how that played out,” you continued trying to avoid making a grimace, but your face couldn’t help it.

Naomi nodded quietly. “I’m sorry for prying.”

“It’s alright,” you rolled your eyes. “And yes, he was good. Though, it was in a bathroom.”

Naomi let out a shriek that sounded vaguely like your name as you continued through the grocery store. 

It’s odd, you thought, your world was flipped upside down and nobody would be none the wiser. The past twenty four hours was whiplashing. Not only had your past fling turned volleyball superstar, not to mention the father of your child, reappeared in your life, he was here to stay. You had always assumed if your dirty little secret were to get out, the floodgates would wash your carefully constructed life away and that nothing would be the same. And in a way, it was, but there you were, grocery shopping with Naomi on a quiet Tuesday morning like nothing had happened.

You could still hardly believe it, honestly. The moment you realized you were going to be a mother five years ago, you imagined that the rest of your life after you looked at that positive pregnancy test would be without him. You assumed that he would prioritize his budding career, his passion for volleyball, above you. You were just some girl he had a fling with after all. Why would he throw away the promising life he had for you? But, for reasons you couldn’t fathom, he ended up choosing to stay. And willingly. He could’ve walked out the moment he stepped foot into Onigiri Miya, but he didn’t.

It made you wonder, would he have made the same decision five years ago? To stay? Would things have been different now if you had him by your side then? 

Did you make a mistake not telling him all those years ago?

Naomi’s voice broke your thoughts. “How’s your baby daddy doing with the whole ‘new parent’ thing anyway?”

You instinctively cringed. “Please never call him that again.”

“Well, what else would I call him?”

You rolled your eyes as you tossed a bag of Haru’s favorite chips into the cart.

“Well, all things considered, he’s doing okay. I think.” 

You weren’t really sure, typically, one doesn’t have a secret family pop up from nowhere.

“And how are you doing with your baby daddy?” Naomi continued.

You ignored the nickname, much to your dismay, you guessed it wasn’t going anywhere soon. You thought back to the question for several moments, but there just wasn’t anything that could begin to describe what on earth was going on in your mind.

“I don’t know,” you stated simply. “It’s weird knowing he’s going to be around, I guess.”

“Weird?” Naomi repeated, tilting her head. “I thought it was a good thing?”

“It definitely is,” you replied, before sighing. “I just… don’t know how to be around Atsumu.”

You never meant for him to be in your life in the first place, so you weren’t sure where he was going to fit now that he was in it, for better or for worse.

“Well, I’m sure he’s feeling the same way too,” Naomi reassured. “Maybe you should bring up spending more time with one another. Get to know each other, y’know?”

You paused, maybe that wasn’t a half bad idea. You pushed your cart to the checkout lane.

Despite Atsumu having an early morning the next day, he didn’t sleep the entire night after returning home from your apartment. And who could blame him? He had too much to think about. On the bright side, he had an early start to his morning unlike the day before. He thought that maybe by being earlier for practice he would get out of his coach’s scolding, but Coach Foster was already waiting for him at the gymnasium despite him arriving a whole hour early.

“You better have a good explanation for running out on practice yesterday, especially with the start of the season so close!” Coach Foster scowled with his arms crossed the moment Atsumu sheepishly walked into the gymnasium.

Atsumu sucked in his teeth and hoped he would believe the events of the prior night. Guess he would just have to find out…

Five minutes later, inside one of the secluded offices inside the gymnasium and away from prying ears, Coach Foster’s jaw was hanging open in a mixture of shock, horror, and disbelief. Truthfully, he considered filing for early retirement right then and there.

“You’re telling me you have a son?” Coach Foster asked in a hushed whisper. Atsumu nodded and the man gave a heavy sigh as he rubbed his temples.

“Honestly, Atsumu…” 

Coach Foster sighed deeply as he rubbed his temples. In his time as a professional sports coach, he had seen his fair share of scandals amongst his athletes, but this one might’ve taken the cake. Initially, he hadn’t believed him, chalking it up to one of his usual pranks, but Atsumu’s conviction was deathly serious. Not to mention the picture he handed him was jarring. The boy looked just like him. 

“I hope that you know what a massive responsibility this is,” Coach Foster said, beginning his lecture. He was honestly still in disbelief over the news his setter broke to him. And honestly, he was debating if what he was hearing was even true, picture or not. 

“I didn’t have my first child until I was in my thirties, you’re still only twenty-three, and not to mention still a little immature–”

“I’m gonna be a part of his life no matter what,” Atsumu stated firmly, cutting him off. 

Usually he knew better than speaking against his senior, but he quickly came to his own defense. 

“I wasn’t there in the beginnin’, so I’m gonna make up for lost time and be there for Haru.”

The Coach was taken aback by Atsumu’s tone, before shaking his head with a chuckle. He had known the setter for some quite some time, being there to see the progression of his career from when he started the league until now. He had never quite taken the young setter seriously when it came to real life experiences, he was still so young after all, but he would almost say he was proud of Atsumu for stepping up. But time would tell if he could fill in the shoes of a father.

“I believe in you,” Foster simply said. “But this does raise a few issues though.”

“Like what?”

“Well, we are going to have to talk to the PR team about this. You’re one of Japan’s most famous athletes right now, and you have paparazzi hounding your every move. It would probably be in the best interest of your son and the mother to stay under the radar until you find a way to announce this publicly without sparking controversy, which is already difficult enough considering the circumstances.”

Atsumu thought silently. In the midst of all the chaos, he hadn’t thought yet how his career could negatively affect you and Haru. He wasn’t sure how he would handle it yet, but he could feel a protective surge in his chest.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure this is handled discreetly,” Coach Foster said.

Atsumu thanked the man, before being instructed to return to practice. As the door closed, Coach Foster sighed deeply, he sure had his work cut out for him.

As Atsumu entered the gym, he was almost immediately bombarded by his teammates. Bokuto and Hinata practically tackled him down the moment he stepped into practice.

“”Tsumu! Where’d you go last night?” Bokuto exclaimed, appearing at his side. “I wanted to practice my spikes with you!”

“Coach was mad,” Hinata shivered beside him. “He said he’d make you run triple the amount of laps today–” Atsumu gulped at the thought of the coach’s training being even more intensive than it already was.

“”Samu had a problem at the restaurant and needed some help,” Atsumu replied as nonchalantly he could. It wasn’t entirely false but it sure as hell wasn’t a good lie either. But before Hinata and Bokuto could press more, Coach Foster bounded out of his office.

“Enough small talk! We need to start our warm ups.” Coach Foster announced. Atsumu nearly sighed in relief, until he realized he was probably going to be worked to the bone.

The rest of practice went on as usual, except for Coach Foster making the session more grueling for Atsumu in particular. He bit back his complaints, already knowing this wouldn’t be the last of his coach’s discipline for him. He probably deserved it, anyway. 

Later, after a practice what Atsumu could only call torturous, Coach Foster blew his whistle and beckoned the team over.

“It seems I have an unexpected meeting with the PR representatives,” Coach Foster announced, “so we’re going to call off practice early today!”

Atsumu caught a glare from Coach Foster that could unmistakably only be meant for him. He hoped nobody else caught it or the fact his face was mortified, but thankfully everybody else on the team seemed too busy celebrating the abrupt end to practice. 

“Take the rest of the day to recover, that’s all!”

Atsumu practically felt the weight on his shoulders dissipate as he headed for the lockerroom. His bones were aching at that point, and the only thing he wanted to do was collapse onto one of the benches. He went into his locker and dug his phone out of his practice bag. Going through his notifications, he was surprised to see his first message was from you.

You (12:35pm):

hey, how do you feel about spending more time together?

You (12:35pm):

to get used to being around each other i mean

You (12:36pm):

sorry, i don’t really know how to go about this

You (12:37pm):

my bad, you’re busy at practice probably

You (12:37pm):

sorry, just ignore this

He quickly wrote back.

Atsumu (12:45pm):

nono, don’t worry, i just got out of practice actually

Atsumu (12:45pm):

i don’t how to go about this either, but i would love to spend more time with ya and haru

Exhaustion long forgotten, Atsumu grabbed his bag and headed out of the gym with a noticeable smile on his face.

You groaned as you slumped down on the staircase of your apartment complex. Of course the elevator decided to go out of service when you had an entire weeks worth of groceries to bring up. You barely had made it up to floor three before you decided to give up. Now, you were collapsed onto the step of the stairs surrounded by what seemed to be an endless sea of bags. How were you going to make it up another seven flights?

You heard footsteps behind you, presumably from someone who was also inconvenienced by the lack of elevators. 

“Sorry,” you groaned as you got to your feet as you collected up one of the bags. “I was just taking a break from taking up these damn groceries–”

“Do ya need help?” You perked up, you certainly weren’t in a position to say no.

You looked up to thank the stranger for their offer and are met with Atsumu instead. Miya Atsumu, who definitely doesn’t live in your building.

What on earth?-- Oh no. Oh no. He thought your message about spending more time together meant today. You were so caught up in bringing up your groceries that you hadn’t bothered to check your phone to see his response.

You were suddenly all too aware of the sweatpants you haphazardly threw on and the shirt you’re pretty sure Haru stained with paint from his fingerpainting phase last month. You won’t even begin on whatever hairstyle you haphazardly did this moring. You were under the impression that all you were doing was going to the supermarket with Naomi so you didn’t bother getting properly dressed. Now you were standing infront of him a sweaty mess as he looks as if he just walked off a magazine shoot with his fresh-out-of-a-workout glow, designer tracksuit, and practice bag swung effortlessly over his shoulder. 

“Hey!” You quickly said, not prepared to greet him as you clutched tightly onto the bag full of produce in your hands. “I didn’t– uh– expect you to come today.”

Atsumu’s eyebrows creased in confusion before the realization flashed on his face.

“Oh! Ya meant for that message to be in general.” Atsumu exclaimed, and he looked noticeably embarrassed. “Sorry, I just thought–”

“Nono!” You stammered, trying to collect yourself. “It’s okay, I’m off today anyways. Besides, I need help with these bags.” Atsumu cracked a smile at you before reaching down to grab a handful of bags, which was alot more than you could carry by yourself. 

“Here, let me take these too,” he offered, extending his hands out to take the bag in your hands.

“You don’t have to take them all, y’know,” you replied. The poor man already had about four in his arms already. Though, he was carrying the heavy bags without even straining himself, unlike yourself. A rigorous workout schedule would do that, you suppose

“Consider this the first of many repayments,” he chuckled as he took a bag out of your hands. You felt yourself tense when you felt his fingers skim over your hand, and you had to clutch onto the bag tighter for it not to tumble out of your hands. 

You forgot about how stupidly charming he was. It’s what got you into this mess in the first place.

Once you both situated yourselves, you lugged up the stairs and finally reached your apartment. You were noticeably more out of breath than Atsumu was, who didn’t seem to break a sweat despite carrying up twice the amount of bags you did. 

“I guess all that professional athlete training came in handy,” you snorted as you went to unlock the door.

“Coach made sure to put me through it this mornin’ for the stunt I pulled yesterday,” he chuckled. “Guess it was good trainin’ for carryin’ up all these bags.”

“I guess I’ll have to keep you around for my next grocery trip,” you snickered as you placed your bags in the kitchen as Atsumu followed.

“I’ll be here for as many trips as ya need.”

The comment was meant to be innocent, but it nearly made you stop in your tracks. You knew he was here to stay from your conversation the night before, but hearing him affirm it was unexpected. It still hadn’t sunk in yet. A day ago, Miya Atsumu was a distant memory, and today he was standing in your kitchen helping you bring in groceries. Would you ever get used to this? 

“Where’s Haru?” Atsumu asked, looking around to see no trace of the small boy. 

“School,” you answered as you began to unpack the bags onto your counter. “I have a few hours until I have to go pick him up if you wanna join me.”

“Of course,” he replied with a quick eagerness, “what do ya wanna do until then?”

Shit, you didn’t think about the fact you would be with Atsumu alone for the time being. 

Alone. With your ex-fling. 

Who you refused to admit is starting to make your heart beat a little faster.

Suppressing any of the silly leftover schoolgirl feelings you still harbored, you reminded yourself that Atsumu was kind out of courtesy of the situation between you two. You two are still strangers, fling aside. 

Before you could open your mouth to answer, your stomach decided to interrupt the conversation with a undeniable grumble. You immediately grabbed your stomach in attempt to silence it, but there was no way Atsumu didn’t hear it. Your face flushed, and you regretted sleeping in and deciding to skip breakfast that morning.

“I think that means ya want lunch.” You wanted the earth to swallow you whole.

“I’m mortified, but that sounds great right about now,” you nervously laughed. “I can cook us something–”

“I can’t let ya cook, it’s yer day off!” Atsumu interjected as if he were offended you would suggest such an idea. “C’mon, let me take ya out.”

“Atsumu, I look like a mess right now,” you chuckled, looking down at your clothes. “I don’t think–”

“Ya look great so that’s not an excuse,” he interjected and you’re taken aback from the sudden compliment. Surely you couldn’t look that great with your old college t-shirt decorated in paint splatters. But Atsumu looked adamant in his statement with the way he was staring you down. 

“C’mon, it doesn’t have to be anythin’ fancy,” he insisted. “We could just go to Osamu’s, on me.”

Your stomach was practically begging for attention at that point and you groaned, knowing it was too good an offer to pass down. Not to mention, you couldn’t keep holding eye contact with him without melting onto the floor. It’s almost intimidating, the way he won’t back down. 

“Alright, alright, but let me change at least.”

“Good,” Atsumu grinned as you scurried off into your bedroom.

You quickly got changed into a pair of jeans and the first decent shirt you spotted in your closet. It’s simple, but a pretty shade of green with a flattering neckline. You knew the lunch wasn’t going to be anything fancy, but it didn’t stop you from putting on the jewelry you had sitting on your dresser and swiping on some lip gloss. You gave yourself a quick look in the mirror, not bad in ten minutes.

You headed back to the kitchen where you left Atsumu, who was sitting at the counter as he absentmindedly scrolled on his phone. 

“C’mon Miya, you owe me lunch,” you chimed as you grabbed your keys off the table.

Atsumu looked up and you swore he opened up his mouth to say something, but immediately clammed up.

“What is it?” You asked, tilting your head. He suddenly seemed nervous, which was a stark difference from his calm demeanor not even a second ago.

“Ya– uh– just look nice, let’s go.”

Before you could react, Atsumu was already heading for the door. 

Stupidly and annoyingly charming. 

You hoped this meal wouldn’t be the death of you.

The elevators seemed to be back in service as Atsumu had already called it up by the time you locked the door and made your way to him down the hall.

It’s just lunch, you had to tell yourself as you both got inside quietly. Don’t be so nervous. But it didn’t stop your hands from fidgeting as you watched the elevator floor level slowly descend down before dinging at the first floor. 

You both exited and you barely made it a few steps out the front door before you heard the beep of a car. You turned beside you to spot arguably the flashiest sports car you’ve ever seen parked next to your quaint apartment building. It seemed as though it came right from the dealership with it’s perfect white paint job and bright gleam. It couldn’t belong to anyone but the professional athlete himself beside you. That V-League paycheck must be cushy.

“Wow.” It was pretty much all you could say. 

“I got it when I first went pro,” he chuckled as he brought you to the passenger side. “Kind of an impulsive decision.”

You snorted as he opened the door for you and let you inside. “I thought this lunch was supposed to be casual.”

“As casual as it can be, considerin’ the circumstances,” he said as he got into the drivers seat and you rolled your eyes. Right, nothing about this was casual. 

“I probably gotta get somethin’ different soon though,” he noted as he turned on the engine and the car revved to life.

“Why’s that?”

“Not enough room for a carseat in the back,” he responded simply as he pulled the car out. “Or would it be a booster seat? I’m not really sure.”

You were taken aback. “You already thought of that?--”

“‘Course I did,” Atsumu replied like it was the simplest thing in the world. “Thought ‘bout it on my way over here.”

You knew Atsumu was serious when he said he wanted to make a commitment, but you just didn’t think he’d be ready for change so quickly. If he was already thinking about getting a whole new car just for the sake of a booster seat, what else was he ready to change? Co-parenting wasn’t something you ever considered, much less planned for. You shook it off, knowing you were getting ahead of yourself. Right now was just lunch, and that was all. You busied yourself with looking out the window as you watched the streets go by.

“How long have ya been in Osaka?” He asked, eyes focused on the road.

“A little before Haru was born,” you answered. “Before that I lived with my grandmother in Kagawa before she passed, and after that I moved to Osaka because I knew their university had a babysitting service for parents getting their degrees.”

“So about five years?”

“Just about, why do you ask?”

“I’ve been in Osaka since I went pro after high school…” Atsumu mumbled and there’s a noticeable regret in his tone. “I just can’t believe I never knew ya were here.”

“Atsumu, don’t beat yourself up,” you sighed, looking away from the window and back at him. “It’s an enormous city and I was purposefully avoiding you the entire time.”

Though you tried to reassure him, his demeanor was still crestfallen as he drove.

“Y’know, I even avoided sports stores because I was scared I’d run into you there. Haru’s gym teacher hates me because I never get his uniforms on time.”

The last line made Atsumu snort and you’re glad he didn’t seem as dejected. “And what if I was there?”

“I actually had to go last month to pick up sneakers for Haru,” you rolled your eyes. “They had a lifesize cardboard display of you and I thought it was actually you. I ran away so quickly the cashier thought I was a thief.”

You manage to get a smile to crack through Atsumu after all. You realize you eventually made it to Osamu’s restaurant as Atsumu parked beside it. Before you could even manage to open your door, Atsumu had already made it to the passenger door outside and opened it for you.

“You know you don’t need to do that,” you chuckled as you climbed out.

“Nah, but I wanna.”

Your heart needed to stop doing whatever the hell it was doing in your chest.

It seemed like you weren’t going to win as Atsumu made sure to open the restaurant door for you as well. You walked inside as the bell chimed on the door as you spotted Osamu behind the front counter.

“Could ya please stop coming in here durin’ my breaktime?!” Osamu barked as he tossed the towel strewn over his shoulder directly at his brother’s head. “I need to start lockin’ the damn doors because of ya!”

“How else can I eat in privacy?” Atsumu whined, grabbing the towel off his face. “I haven’t recovered from the time the tabloids posted all those pictures of me eatin’ your onigiri!”

“It’s because ya ate eight in one sittin’!” Osamu exclaimed, before noticing you standing behind Atsumu. He immediately composed himself from his previous hostility. “Oh, I didn’t realize ya were here.”

“Hi,” you waved meekly. “Sorry for coming in, I had no idea you were on break.”

Osamu scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. “No worries, I’m used to this moron bargin’ in here anyways. Take a seat and I’ll fix ya somethin’.”

You both got sat in one of the nearby booths as Osamu got you settled before heading into the back kitchen to get started on cooking. The restaurant was empty, and you realized Atsumu’s habit of coming in during Osamu’s breaktime was probably so he could eat in privacy.

“Oi, ‘Samu!” Atsumu called into the nearby kitchen. “Make some extra gyoza!”

“Oh, that’s my favorite!” You exclaimed. You were practically starving at this point, so the mention of the food made your mouth water.

“Ya always packed some for lunch back in high school, right?” Atsumu noted. It was true, if you didn’t pack any from home, you would sneak out to the convenience store to buy some instead.

“How on earth do you remember that?” You snorted. His memory was spot-on, especially since high school felt like eons ago.

Atsumu shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Is your favorite food still tuna?”

“How’d ya know that?” Atsumu asked, noticeably surprised, as if he didn’t remember the detail about you moments ago.

“Haru eats it all the time, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree apparently,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “He’s like a mini you.”

Atsumu smiled softly and looked at his hands placed onto the table. He was fiddling with his fingers, roughed up probably from all the time he played volleyball. He seemed nervous.

“He is?” He said, almost shyly. Not like the typically confident guy he was.

“Yup,” you answered, resting your hand on your face. “Earlier when you were bickering with Osamu, it reminds me of when Haru starts to whine.”

“Really?” He asked excitedly, before his face flashed with realization. “Wait, hey!--”

You laughed as Atsumu scoffed but it seemed more like a pout with the way he jutted out his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. It made you think about how uncanny the two looked. You couldn’t help but smile as Atsumu turned back to you, his face still a bit peeved at your earlier jab. 

“I still feel like I don’t know enough about ya still,” Atsumu noted.

You paused. Five years of avoidance would do that… But now it was different. You didn’t have to force the distance anymore unlike before.

“That doesn’t matter, does it? We aren’t in a rush to.”

Atsumu smiled at you again and you felt your heart still. “No, we’re not.”

Whenever he looked at you, you became acutely aware just how present Atsumu was. It almost didn’t seem real. He wasn’t just some image you saw from afar, like interviews on TV or in magazines you saw at the convenience store. And somehow, he wasn’t leaving or running away like you thought he would be. Nothing was separating you, he was infront of you and here with you. 

And as happy as it made you, it scared you just as much.

“You haven’t told me anything about yourself,” you noted, wanting to change the topic. “I feel like I’m doing all the talking here.”

Atsumu shrugged. “My life’s pretty much an open book, what do ya wanna know?”

Atsumu was right, he was in the limelight even before he went pro. Anything you wanted to know about him was probably written somewhere online by fans or reporters. You remembered that back in high school, he was already getting recognized by national recruiters, not to mention having an army of fangirls. You vaguely remembered them giving you– and any other girl– shit for even breathing in his general direction, you couldn’t imagine what they would have done to you had they known you both were secretly hooking up. You weren’t sure how Atsumu always kept his composure despite majority of his life being constantly under a microscope. 

You, for one, wouldn’t know how to handle it, and it was partially the reason you hid from him for so long. You wondered how long you could hide from the watchful eyes on Atsumu. At some point, they would be on you.

“Is it hard?” You blurted out.

Atsumu paused at your sudden statement. “What is?”

Maybe it wasn’t appropriate for you to be asking something personal for what was supposed to be a casual luncheon, but it the question already came out of your mouth.

“Being famous. Doesn’t it get tiring having to be watched all the time?”

You half expected Atsumu to crack some wise joke about how he was meant to be famous, his boisterous confidence was undoubtedly star-material after all, but he paused again. You noticed him looking at the wall behind you, and you turned over your shoulder to spot a picture frame hung up. It was a picture of his high school team, with Atsumu front and center with his usual plastered grin.

“Yeah, I think it does sometimes.”

You wanted to ask more, but you didn’t think you should. You didn’t think it was a line you should cross. At least, not yet. You were reminded of the fact you two were still practically strangers.

You had nearly forgotten you were there to eat had it not been for Osamu coming around the corner with a steaming tray of food. You barely were able to stop your mouth from salivating once Osamu placed the plates onto the table.

“This is for ya,” Osamu stated harshly, shoving what could only be a receipt into Atsumu’s face.

“What the hell are ya talkin’ about?!” Atsumu barked, snatching the paper from his brother’s hand. “What happened to my family discount?”

“She eats free, but after what ya put me through, ya pay double now.”

Atsumu couldn’t think of anything to retort as he shamefully shoved the receipt into his pocket, muttering something about his ‘good for nothin’ brother’. You couldn’t help but giggle.

Osamu turned back to you. “‘Least I can do is make ya food, so stop in anytime.”

You quickly thanked Osamu for his generous offer before he left the two of you alone in the booth.

“I should’ve bombarded into here sooner if I knew it would have gotten me free food,” you chuckled, immediately going to grab one of the various riceballs infront of you. The taste didn’t disappoint either. Osamu must’ve been a magician, because the food could’ve only been this good with the help of magic. No wonder he had rows of culinary awards plastered on his walls.

“Speakin’ of which, how on earth didn’t ya realize ‘Samu was my twin brother?” Atsumu asked, laughing. “His face didn’t ring any bells?”*

You groaned through your bite of rice. “Listen…”

The rest of your lunch carried on with less stress than you had originally imagined. You thought that underlying tension would weigh down the majority of your meeting and the rest to come, but the two of you got on so… easily. As if Atsumu wasn’t the last person you wanted to see, not even a day ago. You guessed it was from Atsumu’s obnoxiously pleasant personality, one that got you into trouble all those years ago, that made you feel so relaxed. It was a wonder how he was so easygoing in the first place, while you were still a jumbled ball of nerves.

“Should we go pick up Haru now?” Atsumu asked, nodding towards the time on the clock. It was nearing the time you were supposed to go pick him up from school.

“Yeah, but…”

You turned to look out the window of the flashy car parked outside and you grimaced. You couldn’t imagine the faces– not to mention the salacious gossip that would ensue– of the other preschool moms if you suddenly pulled up in a car worth more than your monthly rent, with a man in tow nonetheless. You already got enough shit for being a single parent, and you didn’t want to give those haughty women the idea you were somehow some sort of sugar baby too. 

You looked back to Atsumu, bright-eyed and grinning a magazine-selling smile, and you realized his celebrity face was probably more conspicuous than his car. 

Maybe you should’ve felt bad for making Atsumu wear a face mask and park two streets away, and probably should have felt worse for having him steal the baseball cap right off of Osamu’s head before heading out, but you imagined it would have been worse if Japan’s favorite athlete was suddenly sitting beside you in a lobby full of Osaka’s most talkative housewives. While it seemed nobody had caught onto his identity since majority of his features were covered, you still caught a few of the parents glancing in your direction. Their curiosity was understandable, it was common knowledge you were on your own, so bringing a man with you was surely an eyebrow-raiser.

“That lady with the scary makeup keeps staring at me and it’s making me nervous,” Atsumu whispered in the seat beside you. 

You looked in the direction he was referring to and caught one of the moms, Hitomi, staring directly at Atsumu. Her stark plum-red lipstick paired with spidery false lashes was daunting to look at. Not to mention, she had a personality to match. Her stuck-up personality had already grinded your nerves to a tipping point and the school year had barely began. Even Haru had a disdain for her daughter, Yuki, claiming she constantly hogged all the toys to herself during recess. 

“Y/N, you have company today!” She chirped happily. 

Translation: Who’s this man with you?

It was obvious she wanted to know who Atsumu was. Hitomi apparently didn’t have much shame as her eyes didn’t even bother to meet yours as she raked her eyes up and down Atsumu’s body. While his face wasn’t discernible though his mask, his well-built body had most of the women in the room stealing glances at him. It was obvious, even with the mask, he was definitely handsome. 

You realized there were other onlookers in the room silently listening in. Hitomi was putting on a show. However, you were expecting as much.

“Ah, yes, this is my colleague from work,” you responded, hoping your lie wasn’t transparent. “We were out nearby for a meeting and he accompanied me today to come get Haru.”

“How kind of him!” She grinned. “Will we be seeing more of him?”

Translation: Is this a man in your life? A boyfriend, perhaps?

“Just for today,” you lied through an insincere smile. The entire exchange was already proving to be a headache. You were hoping that Hitomi would just give up and believe your fib that today was just an appearance from a kind coworker. 

“Actually! I’m tryin’ to come more often.” Atsumu replied cheerfully beside you, breaking his silence.  

You cracked your neck to him at lightning speeds and hoped nobody noticed your eyes bulging out of your head. Why on earth was he not playing along?! Forget being civil with Atsumu, you were about to strangle him infront of the entire PTA committee. All the while, he was cheerful as always.

“That’s great to hear!” Hitomi exclaimed. “Since we’ll be seeing you more often, what’s your name?”

Oh, absolutely not. If the rumor mill caught ahold of any information about Atsumu, they would be done for. Atsumu opened his mouth to respond but the door to the classrooms opened.

“Oh, the kids are done class!” You interjected loudly.

Thankfully, Haru and the rest of his class were released from their classroom and into the lobby to be picked up. Haru immediately beelined into your waiting arms and Hitomi was approached by her own daughter, interrupting the conversation. 

“We’re actually in a rush now, so we’ll have to be going,” you apologized, and didn’t even wait for Hitomi to respond as you grabbed onto Haru’s hand, and grabbed onto Atsumu’s sleeve to drag them away to the front desk to sign out Haru as quickly as possible. You practically ran out of the building with both of them in tow, ignoring the many confused stares.

You collected yourselves outside on a secluded part of the street, and you almost collapsed in relief. God knows what would have happened if word got out that Miya Atsumu, of all people, was suddenly picking up your toddler.

“Mama, what’s Mister ‘Tsumu doing here?” Haru asked beside you. You were surprised Haru could recognize him with half his face and hair covered.

“How’d ya know it was me?” Atsumu chuckled, leaning down to Haru’s height and pulling down his mask to his chin.

“Only you have that weird colored hair, mister.”

Your hand immediately flew up to your face to hide your mouth as Atsumu’s face fell. A few tufts of blonde hair stuck out from the hat, seemingly giving him away.

“And mama’s only friends are you and Aunt Naomi, so–”

Now, it was Atsumu’s turn to snort as you pinched your son’s cheek softly. He whined in protest.

“Okay, that’s enough out of you,” you scolded him before turning to Atsumu. “And you, were you trying to give yourself away to the entire lobby? Hitomi’s probably gone off and told the entire neighborhood about my new coworker by now.” 

You remembered the time one of the preschool moms caught you at a work dinner and assumed you were out on a date. By the next morning, the entire lobby was telling you how happy they were to ‘finally see you with a man.’

“Well, I am goin’ to be here more often now.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “So may as well tell ‘em.”

“And were you planning on telling them who you were?” You questioned raising an eyebrow, remembering how he almost answered Hitomi when she asked for his name. “What would you have done if they found out who you really were?”

Haru held onto your leg beside you as he quietly observed your conversation, probably confused on what you two could be bickering about.

He thought for a moment before his shoulders slumped. “I guess ya have a point… My coach did tell me to keep quiet for now.” So he did end up telling his coaches.

“I get that it’s important to keep my identity and all, but I guess I was just got excited about being able to be there for Haru,” he murmured. You sighed, while it was a stupid move, he did seemingly have good intentions. You probably shouldn’t have been so hard on him.

“Mama, you still haven’t told me why Mister Atsumu is here,” Haru frowned in confusion from beside you. You looked down, realizing you still hadn’t answered him. You looked back at Atsumu, still looking dejected.

“He’s here to hang out with us today,” you answered, patting his head. “And he’ll actually be coming to pick you up more often too.”

“Really?” Haru exclaimed excitedly. Atsumu looked back up, suddenly cheering up with a grin. Atsumu almost reminded you of a puppy with how quickly he could perk up after being discouraged.

“C’mon, we’re even going to go home in Mr. Atsumu’s car,” you said, leaning down beside him. “Atsumu, do you wanna show Haru the way?”

“Yeah!” He replied, almost too excitedly as he offered Haru his hand to take, his glumness now forgotten. You smiled warmly as you watched Haru accept his hand, before Atsumu led him to the car.

“Haru, take off your shoes first!” You scolded the young boy as you entered your apartment. Haru, still clad in his school uniform, hurriedly tugged off his small sneakers, and immediately bounded off to the living room to catch the afternoon airing of his favorite cartoon he frequently watched after a long day of school.

“What do ya do now that Haru’s back from school?” Atsumu asked from behind you as you took off your own shoes. 

“Well,” you tapped your chin. You figured it was a good start for Atsumu to know what Haru’s schedule was like. “Usually after school, I make him some lunch and he gets to have some TV time, and he usually likes watching either cartoons or volleyball.” Atsumu grinned at the second option.

“Then he does his homework, gets some free-time before dinner, then he’ll get ready for bed.”

“Since he needs to eat lunch, can I help ya?” Atsumu offered. 

“Sure, I think I have the ingredients for some of his favorite noodles.”

Truthfully, Atsumu probably shouldn’t have offered. He didn’t have the heart to tell you he was an absolute shit cook, but he was desperate to help in any way he could. But how hard could it be?

Apparently, very hard.

He had cut his finger about five times now cutting a single carrot, had oil pop onto said cut, and burnt the noodles the second you handed him the pan. 

Damn Osamu for taking all the cooking genetics in the womb! He cursed silently. He recalled all of his mother’s and Osamu’s fruitless cooking lessons, which all ended in failure. When he had moved out by himself to Osaka and had to feed himself, he solely relied on Osamu, takeout, or instant ramen. He was just thankful you were able to salvage the meal so that Haru miraculously had something to eat that wasn’t burnt to a crisp. 

He moped quietly in the corner of the kitchen, holding onto his injured finger that was throbbing from pain, and his hands were already sore from the exhaustive setting practice he did earlier. If he was alone, he’d be waving around his battered hand and cursing up a storm.

“Let me see,” you beckoned him over. He surrendered his hand over to you in shame as you inspected his cuts and burn.

“Haru!” You called out to the boy in the living room. “Go grab the first aid kit from the bathroom, please!”

His cheeks burned in pure embarrassment. He felt like the toddler in this situation, much less a parent.

Haru, ever the responsible child, immediately got out the first aid kit upon your request. You went to grab a few bandaids and burn treatment for Atsumu to put on, but Haru tugged at Atsumu’s pants leg.

“I wanna do it!” Haru exclaimed. Atsumu realized he was referring to the bandage you were about to hand Atsumu. He looked over to you for permission before you nodded, agreeing that it was okay.

Atsumu chuckled. “‘Course, bud.”

“C’mere, I’ll show you what to do,” you told Haru, before carefully instructing him what to do with the bandaid and ointment. Now, a four year old was taking care of him by bandaging his hand. It’s laughable really, a kid, his own child at that, was able to take care of Atsumu before he could take care of him.

“All better!” Haru chirped, showing Atsumu the zoo-themed bandaids now clad on his fingers and palm.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Haru,” Atsumu sighed, rubbing over the plaster on his fingertips. “It seems I’m not a very good cook.”

“‘Tis okay,” Haru responded with a cheery smile that Atsumu thought was all too similar to yours. “I’ll still eat it!”

You ushered Haru to take his food and eat lunch, while Atsumu was still sulking in the kitchen. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit at Atsumu, he was really like a whimpering puppy.

“Don’t worry, he thinks the food is delicious.”

“Yeah, but that’s because ya fixed it,” Atsumu frowned.

You noticed he was still rubbing a hand over his burnt one, so you clasped onto his to still his anxious fidgeting.

“Haru’s not your Michelin-star brother, his taste palette is composed of dinosaur nuggets and jello. He’ll eat just about anything.” You chuckled, rubbing your hand reassuringly over his. He laughed, more so at himself than anything.

Something about being near you made him feel clumsy and nervous. While you were composed and self-assured, he was suddenly back to being the thick-headed teenager that he has desperately tried to outgrow. He wasn’t sure what happened to the polished and confident Miya Atsumu everyone knew, the one that he was so sure he’s been all this time. The star setter, the positive teammate, the Atsumu who knew what he was doing. 

But he wasn’t. And it was now of all times that he needed to be that Atsumu. 

The last time he felt like the shoes he were wearing were suddenly too big was when Osamu told him he wouldn’t be following him after graduation. Like then, the role he needed to fill was gaping, and it was eating him alive how he didn’t know how to be that. The guy everyone expected him to be, the Miya Atsumu everyone needed him to be, that he wanted to be.

“Y’know, one time I burnt all the cookies I made for his school bake sale,” you suddenly said.

“Huh?” He realized he had strayed too long in his thoughts.

“Haru had a big class bake sale that all the school moms were involved in,” you explained. “It was the first school event I had to work in, and I got assigned cookies. I thought it’d be a slice of cake. How hard could it be, y’know? But I was such a klutz and took a nap while they were baking. Guess I was exhausted from work. The smoke detector woke me up and our landlady was about to call the fire department.”

“Really?” Atsumu replied, a meak laugh escaping from him.

“Yup, and I didn’t have time to bake new ones so I thought I could pass off store-bought ones as homemade, but the other moms saw through my bullshit. Hitomi, the mom you met earlier, gave me an earful about it,” you snickered before looking back at him, still rubbing the pad of your thumb over the bandage across his palm.

“It’s all a learning curve, you get better at it with time. So don’t beat yourself up just because you messed up the first time, alright?”

Atsumu let out a faint chuckle before nodding. The thought of you in the same position as him reassured him somewhat. Of course he didn’t enjoy the thought of you with bandaids all over your hands like himself, but the thought that you could struggle as much as him, while still having the experience of parenthood makes him feel a little better about his lack of cooking skill. He would get it next time.

He looked back down and realized your hand was still on top of his and the blood rushed to his face embarrassingly fast. You noticed his obviously flustered expression, and jerked your hand away.

“Sorry about that–” You stammered quickly. 

A string of curses slung through Atsumu’s head. He should’ve been the embarrassed one here.

“No, no, it’s alright!--” Idiot, idiot. The lingering feeling of your hand resting on his made him absentmindedly clench his hand. He tried to fight back the heat still remaining his cheeks. Why on earth was he acting like it was the first time a girl touched his hand? Maybe he was still like a stupid teenager in more ways than one.

Suddenly, your phone was buzzing on the countertop. You turned over to grab it as Atsumu caught his breath.

“Ah, it’s my boss, I should probably take this.”

Atsumu nodded. “I’ll let ya have some quiet.”

Atsumu left the kitchen so you could take your phone call in private, and noticed Haru was just about done with his food at the dining table. His head perked up noticing Atsumu come in.

“Hey mister, why are you hanging out with me and mama today?” Haru suddenly asked through a mouthful of food. “You bored with volleyball or something?”

You and Atsumu hadn’t had the chance to properly explain why he was suddenly spending more time with you both, probably because you weren’t sure how to properly explain it in the first place. Haru’s curiosity was understandable though, it wasn’t exactly ordinary that the athlete he watched on television was suddenly meandering in their apartment.

Atsumu took a seat at the table. “I guess ya could say I’m yer mom’s friend.”

That explanation would do for now, he hoped. Thankfully, it seemed like it sufficed enough for Haru as he nodded. For a four year old, he didn’t need to question the logic behind the situation.

“Okay, then do you wanna watch TV with me?” Haru asked, suddenly changing the topic.

“Sure, what do ya wanna watch?”

Haru hummed in thought, before a lightbulb went off in Atsumu’s head. You had mentioned before that Haru enjoyed volleyball, this could be a perfect bonding opportunity for him. He imagined all the cool facts and conversations they could have about the sport, maybe even Haru and him could play the sport together–

“Haru, do ya wanna watch volleyball?” Atsumu asked the child, sitting beside him at the kitchen table.

Haru took a final bite of his food.

“Nah,” Haru replied. “I wanna watch basketball.”

It was as if the blood in Atsumu’s body ran ice cold and a crack racketed through his heart. Surely what he was hearing wasn’t true. 

Atsumu clutched his chest in offense before almost shrieking. “Basketball?!”

“Yeah,” Haru nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“B-But,” Atsumu stammered, feeling a bit of his soul trinkle out of his body. “What’s so good about basketball?! Volleyball’s  so much cooler!”

“I started playing it during recess, and it’s so much fun!” Haru grinned, finishing the food on his plate. Before Atsumu could protest, he hopped out of his seat and headed off for the living room. Atsumu knew parenting was going to be hard, but nothing could have prepared him for this. 

Atsumu followed Haru to the couch, verbally protesting the idea, but it didn’t stop Haru from grabbing the remote and turning it on to a sports channel playing the dreaded sport. Atsumu sat stiffly on the couch, accepting that he would just have to come to terms with the fact that his son hated him. Okay, he was being a little dramatic, but still! This was the utmost betrayal in his book.

“Slam dunks are so cool,” Haru cooed at the screen. 

“Yeah, but service aces are alot cooler.”

For the duration of the game on television, whenever Haru would comment on the game, Atsumu was sure to follow with his own rebuttal about how volleyball was clearly the superior sport. Though, Haru didn’t pay him much mind. Atsumu was relieved when Haru finally decided to turn off the TV, finally putting an end to his impromptu torture (once again, being dramatic). He wondered how you managed to do this everyday and not be at your wits end.

Haru hopped off the couch and went to collect his backpack off the nearby table. Damn, Atsumu thought, he didn’t have to be told to do his homework. Haru must have picked that up from you, because it definitely wasn’t from him. He vaguely remembered almost having to repeat kindergarten had his mother not convinced his teachers otherwise. Mrs. Takahashi did not hold a special place in his heart. She definitely liked Osamu more than him.

“What’s yer homework, bud?” Atsumu asked, looking over the boy’s shoulder as he sat down at the coffee table with his work.

“I have an art project,” Haru explained as he unpacked his crayons. “I have to draw my family.”

Haru suddenly stuck a piece of paper infront of him, and Atsumu blinked in surprise.

“Draw with me!” He requested with a toothy smile. Why not? Atsumu shrugged before accepting the paper. Anything was better than having to watch basketball.

Atsumu was reminded that he was certainly not an artist. But he was surely better at drawing than he was at cooking. He drew something vaguely similar to a tiger– reminiscent of the stuffed toy sitting across from him on the couch, but it came out something more like a balloon animal. Next to Haru’s paper, they both were similar in children-like quality.

“Done!” Haru announced before presenting his paper to Atsumu. It was a typical kindergartener’s drawing, with colorful squiggly lines and a smiley faced sun adorned in the corner.

“This is me and mama,” Haru explained, pointing to two stick figures with bright big smiley faces. “This is Aunt Mimi, and I put you mister!”

“What? How come?” Haru considered him a part of his family? Already?

“You said you’re mama’s friend,” he stated simply. For a four year old, it was all the reason he needed. Atsumu looked down at the photo, a smile creeping on his mouth, even if Haru chose to color his hair with a too-bright yellow crayon.

“Sorry, sorry!” You exclaimed, returning to the living room to find Haru and Atsumu sitting cross-legged at the coffee table. “My boss never knows when to stop talking, I swear.”

“That’s alright, look at what Haru drew!” Atsumu beamed, gesturing to the drawing on the table.

You walked over to inspect the colorful drawing and snorted. “Is that supposed to be you there?”

“Yup,” Atsumu grinned bashfully. He was practically giddy with excitement.

“Your hair is the same color as the sun,” you giggled pointing at the neon yellow sun in the corner of the page.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You couldn’t help but grin at how gleefully Atsumu was beaming at the drawing. 

“Could I have this?” Atsumu asked, looking at Haru.

“No, it’s my homework!” Haru retorted, frowning. “I’ll get in trouble.”

You could tell Atsumu was about to give one of his infamous pouting faces that you were starting to grow accustomed to.

“But I could draw you another one,” Haru replied, going to grab another piece of paper.

“I’d like that very much.”

As Haru got to work on another drawing for Atsumu, you both went back to sit at the dining table together.

“How would you say your first day of parenting went?” You asked, across from Atsumu.

“I don’t think I’ll ever recover from Haru asking me to watch basketball over volleyball,” Atsumu scoffed. “Do you think he’s already goin’ through his rebellious phase?”

“It’s not the end of the world,” you snorted. Atsumu seemed practically miserable at the idea that Haru preferred the rival sport. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Haru declared he wanted to pursue any other activity other than volleyball at school. Knowing Atsumu, he would probably collapse at the idea.

“Ah, I didn’t realize how late it was gettin’,” Atsumu said, looking at the time on the clock on the wall.

“Yeah, I’ll have to get dinner started and Haru to bed soon,” you nodded, the day having flown by before you could even realize.

“I’ll get goin’ then,” Atsumu said, getting up from the table. “But I hope we can do this again soon?”

“Of course, I’d love it if you came around more often.” you replied and Atsumu’s eyes widened.

“Really?” He replied.

“Haru would too! I can already tell he likes being around you–” You quickly added, realizing that you probably seemed too eager for Atsumu to visit again. But it didn’t seem like he minded at all.

“I hope so,” Atsumu chuckled, going to collect his things. “Even if it seems like he doesn’t like my job.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you called over Haru to say goodbye, and the toddler came to the door with a paper scrunched in his hands.

“I drew you!” He announced proudly, presenting Atsumu the picture he had drawn for him. Once again, you noticed he had used the brightest yellow crayon he had in his box to color his hair.

“Thanks, Haru,” Atsumu grinned, going to ruffle his hair and take the picture from him. “I’ll put it on my fridge as soon as I get home.”

He turned back to you, the picture held carefully in his zoo-bandaged hands. It’s adorable, really.

“I’ll see ya around soon, alright?” Atsumu said with a toothy grin.

“Alright,” you replied, your tone softer than you intended.

Haru and you waved goodbye as you watched Atsumu head out of the apartment and down the hallway. Once he was in the privacy of the elevator, he pressed the drawing against his chest, where his heart was busy welling. 

“I’d love it if you came around more often, huh?” He chuckled to himself. He didn't admit to himself he thought about the comment all the way home.

* a little joke at how y/n didn't recognize osamu somehow LMAO, excuse the little logic behind it, it was for plot convenience :)

reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciates! :)

taglist (closed): @cloud-lyy @gabicalicota @lilith412426 @luvkaku @bbaegirl @allainaemm @fashionloverr846 @slut444spencer @tsumus-babydoll @1-800-peakyblinders @lellokitty @blinkingsuns @polish-cereal @lilolpotato @yogkurts @awkwardaardvarkforever @swan-chan @bngtnsecret @themoonreflectsthesun @mazdoe @marvel-ing-at-it-all @botphobiaa @kyomihann @koutarostiddies @katsunarii @coconut-soup @ibby-miyoshi-nerd @nicerthanu @invyou @ti-mame @ushygushybaby @hanahanasstuff @drageonix24 @bokuatsubro @littlemochi @softtashoney @curiouslilbeasty @rukia-uchiha-98 @pinkwhiskers @urmomondeez @unstaaableaf

[wuahae]

✶ seventeen, after it all ends.

post-breakup hcs, ft. vocal team (special track: dust)

-> hip hop | performance

the spring air rests cool on jeonghan’s skin. reserved for late nights when the weather suits him perfectly, he likes to think walking helps clear his mind, but it seems even a small thing like this has become harder to fit into his busy schedule as of late. tonight, though, he indulges himself a little, falling into a ritual he practically knows by heart. the last time he'd done this, he had done it with you, a few weeks before you had—ah. (after the breakup, jeonghan had tried to cut off the frayed ends of the thread. deleting old photos he had saved of you, throwing away the small things in his wallet that you had given him.) he likes to think that he's moved past it by now, letting go of a past he can never come back to. and yet, jeonghan finds himself led to the corner of the street you would stop him at, the lamplight you would always kiss him under. (he doesn't think he could forget any of it. your twinkle in your eye every time you pulled him in for the kiss, as if it could never get old. the light still flickers twice every three minutes, only you're no longer there to count the seconds with him.) jeonghan briefly wonders if he should break the habit while he still can, change to a different route that isn't so entrenched in memories. but for now, he walks past the lamplight without pause; you may still linger in the flickering, but he'll be just fine counting the seconds by himself.

joshua runs into your mom on a drizzly tuesday afternoon in the leafy greens section of the veggie aisle. he matches her warmth with an easily, falling back into exchanging cheerful pleasantries, and for a moment, it's like nothing has changed. your mom still tells him he gets more handsome every time she sees him, and she absorbs his polite compliments shamelessly with a hint of socially acceptable bashfulness. ("how are they?" he asks, eventually. the question isn't solely out of obligation either; you'd both ended things on good terms, even if the only texts exchanged lately were happy birthdays and holiday wishes.) you're doing well, from what your mom tells him. a new job in a new city, a nice apartment to go along with it, and—("it seems serious, they might be getting married soon!") his following congratulations are genuine, but for a moment, joshua imagines what it would have been like if you'd never broken up. would you have still moved to a new city and gotten that new job? (now that he thinks about it, he would have proposed by now, right?) tomorrow, joshua will go back to his normal life, passing through the what-ifs like a light mist. but today, when the grocery store feels more like a bubble waiting to be popped and the distance between him and you resembles the past more than the present, he allows the ache of an old wound on a rainy day.

jihoon deletes his fiftieth unfinished draft in his song files, crumples yet another scribbled sheet of paper and throws it onto the floor. none of the chords sound right, his lyrics all come stilted and awkward and fuck, he can’t think of anything except for the things he wants to forget the most. (everything jihoon tries to put on paper ends up permeated by you. the way you had gently reminded him to take care of himself, the way there was still so much love in your eyes even as you said goodbye. you, you, youyouyou—) and for all his insistence that he just doesn’t have time for this, some part of jihoon knows that he can’t keep doing this forever. that inevitably, everything he’s been pushing down and stifling will come back up twice as volatile, flames catching onto stray threads of cloth the more he tries to smother it; it’s a disaster waiting to implode on itself, but it’s a choice he wants to make for himself. (now that he thinks about it, his stubborness was always the thing you hated most about him.) a fire will still burn even if you cast your eyes away, but jihoon chooses to bury the flames under work and projects and anything else, even if it will eventually swallow him whole from the inside out.

seokmin’s world still spins tilted off its axis. he brings it upon himself, really, each memory he refuses to let go crashing into him like ocean waves, the tide dragging him under. and just when he pulls himself up to the surface and blinks the salt out of his eyes, another wave crashes into him again, doomed to repeat itself. (the shore is within close distance. seokmin could walk back, if he wanted to—break the cycle of crash-drown-breathe-repeat. but his feet sink in the sand, the weight of his body heavy in the water. crash, drown, breathe.) it’s stupid, he knows, to be holding onto something that can’t be held onto anymore, but seokmin doesn’t know what else to do. you were his first; at least, the first that really mattered. (he doesn’t want to say it, but a part of him is still holding out hope. that his phone will ring and you’re calling to ask him to pick you up and to bring your favorite hoodie of his because you’re cold and it will return to how it once was. stupid.) everything is still the same. your hairties laying precariously on the bathroom counter, his shampoo bottles organized the same way you’d insisted on rearranging long ago, the potted plants you’d brought home one day sitting by the windowsill to soak up sunlight. his home is still yours as much as it is his—the only difference is that you aren’t there anymore.

it finally hits seungkwan a week after, on a sunny saturday morning. he starts his day as normal—washes his face, brushes his teeth, goes into his kitchen to make his breakfast. his leaky faucet drips, a single drop falling every few seconds; it's been leaky for a long time, he's aware, since even before the breakup. and admittedly, the breakup itself is a blur—all he remembers is the feeling, really. the defensiveness that swelled up and burst from inside his chest, the way he had said some things he’d meant and other things he didn’t. (seungkwan will be the first to admit to himself that it was petty, the way he had egged you both onto the path of no return. the ending comes neat and clean, seungkwan makes sure of it.) another drop plops to the bottom of the sink, and he suddenly remembers the note you had stuck on the refrigerator door weeks ago, make sure to call the plumber! scrawled onto it. the weakening adhesive is already starting to peel off, softly, slowly, and seungkwan swallows hard. there’s only one toothbrush in the bathroom now, the hook next to where he hangs his keys stays empty. seungkwan looks down to cups on the table, the americano he had habitually made for two. gently, he peels the note off the fridge, what little stickiness is left on it. (drip, drip, drop.) seungkwan dials the number, finally, when there’s nothing left but the ripples of what once was. it’s best to still the water himself, rather than wait for the end; it’s best to let go.

[queeniecook]

January 26

Motivated by her talk with her Mom and Vera yesterday, Jillian approached Dakota after laying Slade down for a nap. Dakota has the day off from work and she figures it's the best time to talk to him. It should have been done sooner but she and Dakota both have been worried about talking things out. Things had gotten extremely heated the last time they discussed James' visit.

"I'm sorry." Jillian starts with. Dakota gazes at her, a little surprised by her words. "I messed up by keeping James' visit from you. I guess stupidly,  I was worried you'd insist I give the book back and now I realize that's such a stupid thing to worry about." Jillian has always been attached to books. One could almost call it an addiction. It never caused any problems until she reached adulthood. "I should have told you and I'm sorry about how I reacted too. I thought you were going to accuse me of going to bed with James or something like that. I love you Dakota and you're the only one I want to be with." Jillian did her best to not let her emotions get away from her. It's been easier since she had Slade but when she thinks of all that could have happened that night, she can't help but get a little choked up.

Dakota is touched by Jillian's apology. He knows it's heartfelt and that helps him feel better about the night their son was born. "I'll admit, I could have gone into the conversation more calmly. I'm supposed to count to ten when I feel my temper flare and I didn't do that. But I hope you get why I was so upset about it. I don't trust James. I'm grateful he helped you and got you to the Hospital. I even thanked him for it while we were waiting to find out news about you and Slade." Dakota admits. That was an awkward conversation and it ended with James of all people scolding him for his temper. 

Jillian nods slowly, a bit surprised James stuck around at all after that. "I understand now why it upset you. If I had just told you after the visit happened...."

"The past can't be changed. The only thing you can do anything about is the present and the future." Dakota quotes, thinking of his Mom. "Mom always told Joey and I that when we were growing up." Dakota scoots over to Jillian and carefully wraps his arms around her. She's still recovering from her C-Section.

"I love you." Dakota whispers softly. He feels Jillian lean into him slowly and place a hand on his leg. "Let's just move forward and agree to not keep things from each other, okay?"

"Okay." Jillian agrees with a grateful sigh. It feels good to have things between her and Dakota at peace again. 

[bishie-haven]

After-party, Day 1, Part 2!

Alright, so part 2 of that list, HERE WE GO!

#7: The Avatar of Lust (Initial UR)

This blasted card…another NB-exclusive, they’re really able to lean into the “we’re in the past” element of the story and bring it out into the open. Being brought to Lamentation on account of hearing ghost-like noises, it turns out to be Asmo literally wailing like a banshee because of Satan’s remarks on him putting on airs. This leads to a point of backstory that I absolutely adore. We all know about how Asmo was nicknamed “the jewel of the heavens” by Luci himself and how the two were effectively a pair, but we never knew his true intentions behind it. Well, thanks to a flashback, we find out it’s because Luci saw all the effort Asmo put into things, whether successful or not, and that’s what truly made him shine like a gem to him. It really puts into perspective his abundance of drive and self-confidence and how it shines in every other situation he’s in. I hate that it takes over two sections of the story just to even start TALKING to him, but you take what you can get. 

And the ART…I have merch of this card art, and whatever side you look at, you can TELL the artists went all out for the release, whether demon OR angel form. (And also, WHY has no one said anything about how the demon form’s pose is the gold-standard yandere pose?!)

#6: Treat for a Job Well Done (Water Panic UR)

Oh, the equivalent of my birthday present last year~ While the event that was attached was…a bit less than desired (it felt like I was ACTUALLY working that temp job pushing through it…and you couldn’t even kiss him ON THE FERRIS WHEEL!), the story we got for that grind was SUCH a treat. Even with a concept as simple as “beach episode”, so many cute elements were added in, like the floater keychains and the drink customization. And overall the tone was just so playful, like it truly was a reward for the work you did to get this card. And you ACTUALLY get that kiss (if you want it!)!

While the card art doesn’t have many bells and whistles, the composition is what sold it for me. Both the initial and DF unlock are framed like you’re both under the warm rays of the sun (a rarity in this world), and each show Asmo with the biggest smile on his face…it warms my heart just as much!

#5: Gifts for My Valentine (Valentine’s ‘24 UR+)

Now THIS is a direction I haven't seen the Valentine's Day surprise take before. Casually dropping that he and other students have been cursed, we get full access to Asmo's thoughts for the day, and instead of stuff you shouldn't really be posting on the internet, the thoughts are actually pretty wholesome. However, it seems to wreck every surprise he tries to give you. Between a secret that romantic feeding makes a chocolate ten times sweeter (attacking me with my favorite romantic trope, no less) to wanting to share a gift so that they could be connected, you end up knowing it all. And what does he do to combat this? Pulls the “I'm your present, unwrap me” card to shroud his brain in mystery and have a decorated demon as your gift. Absolutely. Freaking. Adorable.

And the art? Oh COME ON, not only attacking me AGAIN with the initial art, but the suit in the DF unlock? The freaking RIBBON?! We're getting spoiled here!

#4: Lovable Me (Initial SSR)

The last of the NB-exclusive cards I can rank, this one I feel gets the most right when it comes to what they're trying to do. They show the start of a character's personality trait (in this case, the fifth deciding he's going to pursue being famous on social media), showing how it can be in a negative sense (bringing his twin younger brothers along primarily as pack mules on a shopping spree), and how it can be turned on its head. Within this story, Asmo gets a huge break when a scouting agent asks him to be an in-house model, but only if he immediately signs a contract at their HQ. He could have done this, nothing was stopping him…but he promised his brothers lunch and rest, and he knew that while he would have plenty more opportunities, he only had these brothers. It really reveals that under the glitz and glamor he likes to portray, he is loyal and dedicated to those he cares about. I've said it before and I'll say it again: to those of you thinking Asmo only cares about himself READ THIS NOW. Also, the fact that Mammon ends up getting the spot in his place and the lusty boy ends up going ballistic on him is hilarious. XD

AND the art also portrays multiple sides of him too. A big reason I love this character is because he is very much GNC and is ready and willing to wear things that aren't necessarily coded as masculine, whether that be lipstick (initial) or even a gorgeous ball gown (DF unlock). And this was one of the INITIAL cards??

#3: A Taste of Stan Culture (Hobby UR+)

While I adore our demon of desire, he is not the only one in this game I like. For example, my 2nd favorite amongst the brothers is our lovable little nerd, Leviathan. And if there’s one thing I and the envy demon have in common, it’s the passion we share for our faves. And my #1 gets to understand the mindset of the #2 in this story, where a spat between the two leads him to try and apologize by trying to get into his head about anime, idols and overall stan culture as a whole. Although from Asmo’s perspective, the faves he has in mind? Himself and you. On his end, wearing homemade merch of your love (in this case personalizing shirts with his face on it which, fun fact, show the art from his Return My Glow card from the OG game!). On your end, a fashion show with him laying on the praise as thick as he can: penlights, fans, hearts in his eyes and all! It highlights a lot of little things about him, too: he and Levi share a skill of sewing, and because Asmo has a hoard of fans himself, this little experiment allows him to understand them just a bit more. Development just for going the way of the otaku for a couple of days!

While I’ll admit the initial art for this card is just okay (unless you’re a huge fan of embroidering), the DF unlock is where it really shines. This is where we get him waving the fan and the penlight, but also where he’s wearing this GORGEOUS outfit that I will pay SO much money for in order for it to be a model in-game, PLEASE SOLMARE!!

#2: Li’l Asmo’s Big Journey (Fairytale UR+)

This. This freaking story. How many ways can I say I love this story?? Since I was a kid, I loved movies like “Honey I Shrunk the Kids” and many an episode of a TV show where characters either grew or shrank and had to get used to the new perspective of the world around them. In this case, thanks to context from another unlockable chat, nibbling on a few cookies off-screen caused Asmo to go down to mere inches in height, leading to a slew of shenanigans as he wants to do multiple things just trying to get back home. From playing around and fighting dolls in a cursed dollhouse to ordering a sweet dish that’s quadruple his size (and another attack on my fave romantic trope depending on the dialogue choice) to getting KIDNAPPED BY A BIRD, it has all the trappings for a stupidly fun time with one of my favorite subjects. And the irony is, he asks you multiple times near the end if you would like to shrink as well sometime for a cute photoshoot amongst the flowers…and I currently have an OC dating him whose magic specialty is altering size, whether of objects or herself…

When it comes to the art, they really leaned on the Thumbelina inspiration for each image, and whether you want him resting pretty with a wand or relaxing with a pair of butterfly wings, if you like fairies, this is the card for you!

#1: Every Version of You (Learning UR+)

So this card from the Learning-themed Nightmare is my favorite. And while I will admit right now the art isn’t my favorite (I don’t hate it, but it’s more on the plain side with the collapsing books or the Demonus pong) and that some aspects feel a bit forced (specifically with the ending in the club), it’s honestly easy to ignore for me. I say this because the story that occurs is absolute perfection if you want character development for someone as perfection-obsessed as Asmodeus. The whole story revolves around a video of him studying going viral online, and because it doesn’t fit what he usually portrays as his image, he starts to worry that no one likes his personality anymore, and tries multiple avenues to try and give a new image to himself (and not like a CERTAIN #14). He tries, fails, and it’s only when a photo is snapped of him collapsing over a pile of tea reference books that he starts to realize that not only does he not need to change any aspect about himself, but that he needs to start showing the realm that he’s NOT always perfect. No matter whether he succeeds or fails at something, the fact that he’s doing his best is what’s most important at the end of the day. It revolves back around to the first UR he receives in this game. He isn’t a jewel of the heavens or even of all three realms just because he’s seen as perfect. It is because he’s determined, he’s passionate, he puts in the time to get the results he wants.

And that? That is one of the countless reasons why so many, including myself, see him as more dazzling than any gem a jeweler could offer. 

Alright, Day 3's contents are on the way! And this time? We'll be going into a bit into my head for our next wave~

[the-ginger-is-loose-again]

Ive been thinking about this for a couple of days now, but I made the mistake of looking in the comments section of one of my favorite podcasts's episodes in spotify (Last Podcast on the Left)

The episode in question (Side Stories: Squirrel Stories) was recorded the day before election day and posted the day after, so they discussed the election and it was rather heartbreaking that they were pretty unconcerned because they were so confident that Kamala was going to win. At one point, they spend some time shit talking trump and right wingers, which is pretty par for the course for them

The comments were about 50/50. On one hand, right wingers crying that everyone was so mean to them and how lptol needed to stay out of politics and the other was normal people going "have you ever heard an episode of lpotl before? It's always been political, and always anti nazis" (I'll admit the earliest episodes are a little meh because they are three dudes living in New York in 2011 and like fresh off of 4-chan, but they, for the most, part learn and grow and are really good with the sensitive topics nowadays, not making fun of victums, knowing where in an episode is the time for jokes and where is the time for seriousness, while still being dudes fucking around and having fun doing their podcast together)

My comment is probably not going to pass review, but basically, it was so insane to me that all these guys were just openly showing how little they cared for the show or paid attention to it at all and obviously just liked the edgy impolite aesthetic and they got their wittle fascist fweewings hurt that the show that famously takes pleasure in shit talking right wing criminal dickbags is shit talking their right wing criminal dickbag leader

They literally dropped their The Manhatten Project series over 4th of July in which they talked about how the american people were dragged kicking and screaming into rationing (it wasnt as easy and selfless as it is portrayed now, it wasnt done volunterrily) and every horrific thing that the atomic bombs and later scientists did to the people of Japan and how unnecessary it all was and about the riots and mass rapes that happened IN SAN FRANCISCO on VJ Day (basically all the soldiers who found out they didn't have to go to war because Japan had surrendered went on a massive bender and the police were told not to stop them the first day or so because it was all in good fun, yea it's why they don't talk about vj day a lot and only show us the kissing in NYC photo from V day). Like, if these maga dudes in the comments were correct that lptol was apolitical that series would have been like every other history channel circle jerk about America's Greatness in the war

A handful also called for the return of the host Ben, who had worked on Fox News and had always been the most right leaning of them, but he was removed from the whole network he helped found because it came out he had been abusive to girlfriends for years (a terrifying thing considering he is 6'7") and his alcoholism was so bad he couldn't even function in the last few episodes he was in. It is amazing listening to say the John Wayne Gacy episode then skipping to the Manhattan project, the difference is insane, Henry keeps joking about long pauses and him bringing up stuff theyve already passed and you can tell he is just trying so hard to keep the episode flowing well and bolstering Ben where he can. He always presented as mild mannered and a funny drunk and a gentle giant, until he didn't, and past girlfriends started coming out with the shit he said to them, and you're just like "oh wow, where have I heard this before? Oh, every other right leaning asshole ever?" And don't get me wrong, he was honestly my favorite host at some points, but I am also an adult capable of critical thinking and realizing what he has done doesn't diminish the joy the show has brought me in the past and that his removal was the best thing they could have done so that we can continue enjoying the show going forward. (I also don't need to know every sordid detail of it all, he did what he did, they did what they did, I don't need specifics or more information because I don't actually know any of these people personally, it's not my business if it's not part of their actual business and shows, which a lot of people don't seem to get)

I have always liked that the show goes out of its way to show that serial killers and murderers and cults and all of that come from every political ideology there is, but they also acknowledge how dangerous right wing and conservative ideology is, which has only gotten stronger as a sentiment since Ben left (either as a reaction or because he isnt there to refute it or necause they dont have to be nice as noone in the room is right leaning anymore idk), and anyone who says they need to "stay out of politics" should know they are either advertising how stupid they are or should learn that they aren't going to be able to bully the network into catering to them.

Anyways I'm going to the show in Atlanta in January as a happy birthday to myself, I'm so glad they finally have another southern show, I haven't gotten to see them since they did Charelston in 2021 and it was already the highlight of my decade, so fucking ready, hail gein, hail Satan, love you fuckers

[enterpris]

An Education in Attraction, Chapter 12

Pairing: Reader x Gojo

Summary: It's spring when you start your Master's degree. As the flowers and leaves unfold, so too do your feeling for Gojo

Warnings: public speaking, mild-mid anxiety

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Ao3: PlaidSparrow

You wake the morning of the conference, the last thing you have to deal with before you get the fresh start of a new term. 

You’re a cocktail of feelings as you dress and get ready- pride at the work you’ve done, anxiety at the prospect of speaking in front of a crowd of people, uneasiness about seeing Gojo, the joy of finishing your first term. 

But you know your feelings will settle, all that’s left to do is give the presentation. You pay special attention to your clothes today- opting for professional wear that exudes confidence. You’ll need it. 

After one last check in the mirror, you head out the door and down to the cafeteria for breakfast. Your stomach is in knots and the thought of breakfast is nauseating, even though you need the energy. You settle for a cup of miso soup you can sip on to ease your nerves. As you drink the broth, you run through the prepared speech in your head, hitting each beat as the cafeteria fills with returning students. 

You meet Saito and Kuzume at the metro stop, and your heart is already beating fast as you board the train. The three of you make some light conversation, but it’s clear that you’re all feeling nervous. 

The metro speeds away from campus, towards the outskirts of the city- the event is being held at an upscale hotel a few kilometers from the university. The presentation is all you’ve been able to think about for the past week, and the underground route as you travel doesn't offer much distraction. You still have no idea how many attendees will be present, and this will be a critical opportunity to make new connections in the educational world. 

The biggest pit in your stomach isn’t from the presentation though. The first time you’ll see Gojo in over a month will be on a stage in front of hundreds of people, and you have no idea what to expect. You only hope that he won’t be as cold to you in front of an audience as he was when you last talked. 

When you exit the metro and find the hotel, the venue seems even more grand than you had imagined. The auditorium is large enough to hold several hundred people, and is nearly full of professionals mingling. Large windows near the ceiling let in natural light, which makes the beige interior feel more lived in. Butterflies dance in your stomach- you’ve never spoken in front of a crowd even a fraction of this size. 

You take in the enormous space, and your heart stutters as you see Gojo across the room. 

He’s talking with someone you don't recognize, but the other man is dressed nicely and wearing a lanyard. He must be one of the attendees then. Gojo towers above his companion, lean and impeccably dressed as always- wearing tailored slacks and a fitted button down. What catches your attention most, though, is that he’s not wearing his sunglasses today. You glance at the bright artificial lights and sunlight bathing the room. His eyes must already be sore. 

That’s not your concern though. 

Gojo’s silence over text had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in continuing your friendship or anything more outside the confines of this project. You can work civilly with him for this presentation, and hopefully keep contact at a minimum for the remainder of your degree. 

You walk with Kuzume and Saito deeper into the event space. A section of chairs has been roped off for your class of presenters, and the three of you head towards the rest of your class in the audience. Nerves have made some of your classmates chatty, and you let the wave of noise wash over you without really listening. 

You give Kuzume a wan smile as you sit next to her. She follows your eyes to where Gojo is standing and smiles sympathetically.

"Just this last day."

You nod, but your throat feels tight when you look down. 

A classmate passes around a schedule of the events for the day and how to access the stage for your presentation. Your class will speak in the morning, there will be a break for refreshments, and then an optional series of speakers in the afternoon. You and Gojo are fortunate- you've been slotted as the third group to speak. There won't be the pressure of speaking first or the dreadful anticipation of being the last group. 

Many of the other attendees have found their seats by now, and the lights dim to indicate the impending opening. An older gentleman steps onto the stage, introduces himself, and welcomes the speakers and attendees. 

“We are thrilled to be joined by students from the University of Tokyo's teaching program. Today they will share the results of their cutting edge curriculum research.”

He introduces the first pair and the crowd of academics gives a warm welcome to the group.  Their presentation goes smoothly, quickly discussing their examples. The second group is announced and your anxiety spikes as they take the stage. 

You head to the side door, where you can watch their speech from the wings of the stage. The second group's explanation flies by and you fidget as you wait for them to conclude. If it’s possible, the crowd looks even larger from this angle than it did when you were walking amongst them. 

Then your name is announced with Gojo's and you're walking into the bright lights of the stage. It might be biased, but you swear the applause is louder and longer than it had been for your prior classmates. 

You are supposed to kick off the presentation, and for a moment as the cheers from the crowd wane, your heart in your throat, you think you might choke. There’s too much riding on this moment, there’s been too much leading up to the event. The emotion crashes down on you. 

But when the applause completely tapers and it's time to introduce yourself, you look specifically at your classmates. Through the bright lights, Saito and Kuzume are smiling at you, and the anxiety subsides. You picture your class at the Eikaiwa school and just like you’ve done a thousand times, you’re going to present a lesson. You take a deep breath and begin the presentation.

With your nerves gone, you are really an excellent speaker. This is information you care about, and presenting today could open the door of a teaching job when you graduate. You speak easily to the crowd, allowing your passion and care to shine through your words as you describe the research you did and how you chose your example problems. All the preparation pays off too- your tone and pacing are natural and you hit each beat you'd rehearsed.

Your smile is genuine when you pass the presentation back to Gojo. He seamlessly picks up where you left off, but his eyes linger on your face for a moment when he begins speaking. 

Of course, Gojo is an excellent orator. He expands on your points and grins easily at the crowd as he describes his research studies and example problems. He's truly in his element, alight with charisma and passion as he effortlessly reconnects his research and details with your own. The extra discussion of how your data works together elevates the presentation and truly shows the combined care you each put into this project. 

He’s so different than you’ve seen him in class or even when working together, and you find your heart aches with how much you can see his love for his future students. You can’t help it, you’re awash with admiration for the man beside you. 

The lights of the stage make his hair flash, and his eyes sparkle. In what feels like a moment, Gojo finishes the presentation with a flourish. 

Applause fills the hall as you bow and return to your seat. Saito and Kuzume give you thumbs up and whisper compliments as you sit. Without the fear of the presentation gripping your stomach, a wave of pride engulfs you. The paper, the presentation, so much work culminated in this one moment, and warmth fills your body. Hearing the affirmations from your friends and peers and the approval of other figures in academia certainly boosts your confidence too. 

You peer out into the sea of people, looking for Gojo’s distinctive hair. You’d lost him as you returned to your seat after speaking, which is probably for the best. And although you wish that you could appreciate the moment with Gojo, worrying about him will just distract from the rest of the accolades. 

Saito and Kuzume both deliver wonderful presentations, and you clap loudly for each. Your friends are passionate and smart, and their expertise in their subject areas truly shines when they speak. Once the last groups have finished their accounts, the host of the conference re-joins the stage and dismisses the crowd. It’s time for the networking and socializing of the after ceremony.

Watching your peers present their semester’s work was a good distraction, but as the seated participants disperse and begin to mingle, your earlier emotions catch up with you and the thought of speaking to strangers and making good impressions is almost too much to bear.

Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you take a moment to reconstruct the poise you’ll need for the next few hours. If it didn’t break every social nicety, you would head back to campus now. But to actually succeed in Japan, to stay and build your life and professional career here, connections are vital. If there’s an administrator in the audience who liked your presentation or another teacher in the same field with a job opening in the future, making a good impression today could make all the difference down the line. 

Besides, what are the chances you’ll run back into Gojo? Given how quickly he left after class and his reputation, he wouldn’t stay and socialize.

You’ve got to pull yourself together. The muffled bubble of conversation leaks through the thin walls as you turn the faucet on. The water is bracingly cold on the skin of your hands and it forces you out of the anxiety that has followed you all day. 

With a final look at your reflection, you dry your hands and settle your resolve. 

Striding back into the event space, your mask is firmly in place. The group hosting the event spared no expense for catering and drinks- there are dozens of tables lined with appetizers, and the conversation of hundreds of people resounds off the high ceilings. You lift your chin and enter the line for the nearest table.  

As you grab an appetizer, you feel the attention of someone by your side. You look up, and Gojo is standing next to you.

He gives you an easy smile, peeking over the rims of the glasses. 

“Hey.”

“Hi, Gojo.”

“It went pretty well, I told you we didn’t have to worry.” His voice is light as he reaches over you to grab a small plate.

You're not sure what to say, you hadn't prepared to talk to him beyond the presentation itself, and even after pulling yourself together in the bathroom you'd rather not have to speak to him. After his silence and frigidity, it's strange that he's acting chummy now. 

“Yea, well, I’m glad that we still prepared.” You swallow. “Not all of us are used to speaking at events.” 

You avoid looking directly at him, keeping your attention on the limitless trays of food in front of you. Without the pressure of delivering a speech to a crowd, it’s still painful to be this close to him. 

“Hey, they’d never know! Maybe you’ve got more of these in your future.” You can hear the smile in his voice now. “Or maybe it’s all that practice from teaching already.”

You’re not sure what to say. While being hosted by the symposium is an incredible occasion, you’re thankful it’s over now. 

“Our cohort was lucky to have the opportunity. All of our classmates did well.” You respond.

He lowers his voice and leans closer to you. “Our speech was a standout. You don’t have to be modest, I really think you did well.”

The sudden friendliness after freezing you out is more painful than not interacting at all, you’re left feeling confused and overwhelmed by his closeness. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“Maybe I’ve even got some competition now? You know, there’s more of these year round and-”

You turn to face him and cut him off. “Hey sorry, I don't have much time to talk, I told Saito I’d meet her. I’ll see you around, Gojo.”

Excusing yourself is the politest thing you can do right now. Some of your other classmates have gathered around one of the tables near the middle of the space. It’s safe to bet that Gojo won’t follow- even surrounded by peers and academics, he hardly bothers to converse with anyone. 

After the emotional highs and lows of the day, you're not in the mood to politic or network. You stand in the vicinity of your peers for appearances sake with a bland smile and plate in your hand. After a half hour that feels like an eternity, you decide you've been there long enough and say a couple quick goodbyes.

The air outside the building is as sweet as you've ever tasted, and the natural light of the afternoon warms your skin when you've made it out of the hotel.

You decide to walk home instead of taking the train the couple stops back to campus. Your chest feels heavy. Some parts of you are glowing with pride after the successful presentation- the compliments from attendees were flattering, and also helped to reassure you of your success. A deeper, more raw part of you feels jilted by Gojo’s behavior. 

After being silent all summer and barely working with you on the presentation flow, it was absurdly bold of him to act so friendly during the after ceremony. You could accept if he didn’t want to be close or if he did, but his hot and cold behavior is driving you absolutely crazy. You can only pray that he’ll be absent from your classes this term- perhaps he’s tested out of them again. 

You resign yourself to a mix of feelings when you walk into your dorm, but try to focus on the positives in your own space. The window lets in the golden light, and you light a candle before sitting at your desk. You breathe deeply and the pressure of the day melts away. You pull up your computer and prepare to review the syllabi for your upcoming classes- sinking into the familiar rhythm of studying and your academic schedule. 

[jamesv-t]

Gig survey

As ever, previous years can be read at #gig-survey, and this year’s one can be found below the cut.

Normally this begins with a list of my top five gigs of the year, but as every single show has been great this year, it would be unfair to the ones which get left off, so instead of ranking them I'm just going to present them chronologically.

21st February - Zara Larsson (Roundhouse, London)

27th April - The Warning (Kentish Town Forum, London)

18th May - Olivia Rodrigo (The O2, London)

21st June - Taylor Swift (Wembley Stadium, London)

3rd July - Against The Current/Dead Pony (Lafayette, London)

18th July - Taylor Swift (Veltins Arena, Gelsenkirchen)

22nd July - The Warning (Crate Brewery, London)

25th July - Bruce Springsteen (Wembley Stadium, London)

3rd August - Girls Aloud (Preston Park, Brighton)

20th August - Taylor Swift (Wembley Stadium, London)

6th December - Dead Pony (The Garage, London)

Total number of shows?

Eleven.

Most surprising show?

The Warning at Crate Brewery, but only because I wasn't 100% sure it was going to be them until about an hour before doors!

Most disappointing?

Olivia Rodrigo, but that's unfair on her - she was great, but not and never having been a teenage girl, I still had trouble connecting with her.

Farthest travelled?

Veltins Area in Gelsenkirchen, Germany - 575km/350 miles from my front door.

States attended shows in?

Cheerful, grateful, euphoric, terrified, bored, knackered and achy. 

Venue most visited?

Wembley Stadium, three times.

Worst injury?

Backache after sitting on the floor for The Warning at Crate. Several bruises after moshing too much at Dead Pony.

Most expensive ticket?

Standing tickets for Taylor Swift at Wembley.

Band seen the most?

Taylor Swift, three times.

Best new discovery?

Girls Aloud, which is an odd section to put them in, considering I remember burning their debut single onto CD when it came out in 2002, but I realised watching them that I really had underappreciated them!

Bands seen this year that also broke up this year?

None!

Friends made at shows?

None at shows, but a special shoutout to some of the DPA Cult (particularly @pleasegetoutofmywalls and @tuesdayinhell) as friends I've made through music.

Band members met?

Anna from Dead Pony after their set supporting Against The Current.

Best souvenir from a show?

I have added to my wardrobe this year. Two new Warning t-shirts, two Taylor Swift tees (and a free tote bag), a wonderful Springsteen shirt that's my ideal design/colour scheme, and a really comfy ATC t-shirt!

Longest time in line?

Two hours before the first Taylor show - we were standing for this one.

Shows seen from the barricade [front row]?

Got to the barrier for Girls Aloud and stayed there all day. Weaseled my way to the front row for Against The Current, which I'm proud of considering several people who paid for M&G/early entry ended up behind me - the confidence of a man who had several stouts in the queue knows no bounds! Was second row for The Warning at Crate but still ended up in their aftermovie.

Most shows in one month?

July had three.

Most shows in one week?

July had three in the space of a week - two stadia shows sandwiching a tiny one!

Biggest crowd?

Probably Taylor at Wembley. Either time.

Any drunk encounters?

Not really - I was drinking but never drunk.

Top 5 best 2024 concert moments:

1. I know the best concert moment last year was The Warning, and this remains the same 12 months on. As well as getting to see them in their largest UK headline gig to date, at Kentish Town Forum, a few months later there were whisperings of a small secret gig in London in July. I paid £20 for it, on the off-chance, and wandered up to enjoy a nice summer's evening in the capital. If nothing else I'd get plenty of book reading done on the train there and back. Sitting in the sun outside having a pre-gig beer, I figured they would be playing when the band walked past me less than a metre away! I was lucky enough to see a stripped back, acoustic set from a band who are going to be huge, in a tiny venue, and every time I corrected my posture and sat up straight I ended up right in Dany's eyeline, so ended up getting half the set sung to me!

2. Against The Current/Dead Pony. I'd seen both bands live a couple of times in previous years so knew they'd put on a great show, and when they announced a few joint dates on mainland Europe I was very nearly booking a trip until I was gently reminded of prior commitments. When they announced a London date I was there, and there early enough to get to the front of the queue. Entering the venue security divided the queue into two lines, one upstairs and one down, and I ended at the front of the downstairs line - making a beeline for the front of the crowd as soon as doors opened. I ended up wangling myself into the second row, behind two women who were shorter than me - not that that mattered much, as there was no barrier between the crowd and the stage. I ended up not just close enough to see that ATC's singer had the label hanging out of the back of her top, but close enough to read the text on it. Both artists were as fantastic as my high expectations, but the cherry on the cake came during Dead Pony's performance of 23, Never Me. Anna got into the crowd and quickly spotted me as one of the few who was singing along, so we ended up singing the chorus to each other!

3. Around the turn of the year, in that dead zone between Christmas and New Year where time has no meaning, I used my Christmas money to get myself a book. Reach For The Stars (Reach for the Stars by Michael Cragg review – bubblegum pop’s finest hour | Music books | The Guardian) is an oral history focusing on British millennium pop – from the Spice Girls until X-Factor via Steps, S Club 7, Billie Piper, B*Witched, etc. One of the bands given the most focus, along with interviews with all 27 Sugababes, was Girls Aloud. After finishing their substantial chapter (and bemoaning the sheer extra information cut out) I remarked that it was a shame that their heyday coincided with that annoying period in my life when I foolishly thought I was too cool for pop music, so I never saw them live.

Two days later they were announced as headliners for Brighton Pride festival, which we already had tickets for, and so that took care of that. We got there in enough time to get a spot on the (plebeian) barrier and rotated positions, with Dana and Sophie in front of me when the Girls took the stage. I was transfixed, absolutely blown away. They had finished a substantial arena tour but shook up the set for Pride, rolling out some old favourites (including Watch Me Go, which featured Nicola singing about someone “thinkin’ bout her butt” and made me feel extremely seen). Sophie swapped places with me and I ended up on the barrier, a literal human version of the heart eyes emoji as this ginger goddess strutted her stuff in front of me. I am struggling to put into words just how good they were.

Subsequently I’ve had several deep dives into their back catalogue, to the point that they are my most listened to artist since August! The arena tour was filmed and shown on one of the TV channels over here in mid November which sent us both down the GA rabbit hole again, watching old interviews and live performances, none of which compare to them at their current heights. While I’m annoyed I missed out on seeing them as a five piece, I would not have been this entranced by them if I hadn’t gone into the Pride set relatively cold.

Top 3 worst 2024 concert moments:

1. With fees, I paid around £100 for my ticket to Bruce Springsteen, up in the gods but facing the stage. The first half an hour of his set was soundtracked by three guys in their 40s/50s shouting over the music to catch each other up on what had been happening in their lives recently. After a piano ballad was drowned out by these dickheads a couple in front of us asked them politely to be quiet, only to be confronted by an aggressive expletive filled rant about how they'd paid their money and were entitled to have a chat.

Fortunately I was on my own and had been keeping an eye on an empty seat a few rows down as they were doing my nut in, so I moved there and had a great time, but the sheer entitled arrogance of these wankers still irks me now.

2. We had tickets to two more Olivia Rodrigo gigs in Manchester, earlier in May. Fair enough, the venue wasn't ready in time and the gigs were postponed due to bits falling off the roof. But no update was provided as to when the gigs would be rescheduled for, for another six months, leaving us in limbo if they actually would get rescheduled at all or just quietly cancelled.

3. This is a very personal one. My favourite era of Taylor's is Speak Now. That album was the first of hers I listened to; the first gig of hers I went to was on the Speak Now tour. I didn't really appreciate it as much as I should've done and was looking forward to getting to hear some of the songs from that album live again on her Eras Tour. I managed to stay largely unspoiled for the tour ahead of my first gig on the tour, the first Wembley show. (I knew that the set was broken down into each album; I knew that she'd play Shake It Off because of a lookback piece on the song that I read about a week before the gig which had the spoiler in there; and I knew that there was something involving a hat and the song 22. That was it.) When she came out to sing Enchanted I was excited to see what songs we'd get - the previous three eras in the set had had between 3 and 5 songs played.

Speak Now got one.

When she turned around and went off stage at the end of the song I was confused. When the video screens started showing that f**king snake - Reputation has never been my favourite album - I was fuming. Genuinely, the only thing stopping me from remonstrating with her over her choices was the video at the end of Enchanted referencing the advert for her Wonderstruck perfume which contained that era's defining scent.

I had just about calmed down and managed to enjoy the rest of the show (eventually) when I was informed that she used to play Long Live - my favourite track from the album - as well, cutting it to shoehorn in a set for The Tortured Poets Department (an album with which I also have issues). This set me off all over again.

It gets worse.

As well as the 43 songs which comprised the regular set - I'll say this for her, she gives value for money - she also took to playing two secret songs towards the end of the night. These two would frequently morph into three or four songs as she would mash up pairs of songs together. One which I was hoping for was Fearless deep-cut Change, which she wrote for the US coverage of the 2012 Olympics. This remained unplayed, for over 100 dates before our final gig of the tour (which was the final European date as well).

It remained unplayed until the night before our final gig, when she mashed up Change with Long Live. It was very hard not to feel attacked by her in that moment, even though the rational part of my brain tried to tell me not to take it personally.

The day before. This has got me so annoyed in reliving it for this write-up that I need to spend an hour in the angry dome again.

[kuriboo]

Hey i hope you don't mind or find this weird/rude. I just wanted to reach out here because i saw you have this blog linked on another account and i also saw you was the one running that ygo server promo'd in tags awhile back? ( a year or so ago. ) i wanted to check in with you if you're doing well? I know you are probably busy with IRL stuff so please don't feel you have to reply to this at all. before realizing i think i know you from somewhere else i wanted to ask if the server still active and chill? i'm shy in big groups so i wanted to check before considering. I hope you had a wonderful christmas/holiday!

i'll be honest anon i have not been doing so hot.

which is why, i'm not entirely sure what other blog you found this blog on (which is totally fine!) (i have an inkling it might be my rp account but i may be wrong), but there is a good chance i have been dead silent there for months.

to put it mildly, i've been overwhelmed with life. i keep having house issues, there are so many health issues going on between myself and family (i may be looking at gallbladder surgery in the near future, and if not that, i need wisdom teeth removed and i have to find a surgeon that takes my insurance for that still. and that's just me.), house issues, car issues, and work. i love my job. i feel fulfilled at my job. my job is genuinely fun sometimes. however things keep happening (client actions) that genuinely fuck with me. like the guy who keeps getting drunk and harassing my coworkers [but not me? but that puts me in a VERY awkaward situation being hte only staff he'll talk to.]

the amount of stress this has put on me is LARGE. which is why i've basically been silent everywhere besides this account (kuriboo) and the yugioh server. and the yugioh server, i love the people that are there greatly, but if i was not running that server my anxiety might keep me from being active there too.

holiday's been good, though! i took about a week and a half off bc i had pto to use up before losing it at the end of the year (i did work a couple hours on christmas but it was the kind of work that renewed my faith in humanity and gave me christmas cheer), i'm out at my brother's place for a couple more days, i've been spending time with family and things have overall been good this past week and a half, house issues be damned.

all of this to say, i'm positive the account you came to kuriboo from has been basically ghosted by me and i feel so bad and i'm very sorry. i've been so overwhelmed that my anxiety won't let me do a lot of things.

The yugioh server is still active! Honestly, more active than ever. Which is crazy to me, haha. It's chill most of the time. I host poll tournaments on there (we're currently running a yugioh villain tournament) and sometimes we get a little over the top about the proproganda of who we want to sway votes towards (i think a powerpoint presentation is being created) (the last match [pegasus vs spectre] devolved into bribes and ended as a draw anyway), but that's like, not the usual vibe.

most everyone currently active is very nice and chill though from what i've witnessed. lots of writers in the server, and we have an rp section in the server that's fairly active but extremely casual [currently there is a huge rp thread going on named simple rescue. it's not nearly as simple as the name implies.] i do rp in this server, and we all encourage each other with writing projects and do sprints together and stuff. that's not to say there's no artists. we've gotten more artists recently! and i love seeing everyone's art <3 it's a fun creative place and this server is the only reason i've done any writing in the past six months or so honestly.

but i mean like, you don't gotta be a writer or an artist or an rper to join either. it's perfectly fine not to. genuinely, i think it's a cool place to see some art and fics. or just talk about your favorite yugioh series, or to get into some yugioh analysis or whatever. there's a whole squad of us watching go rush (not simultaneously) and we just talk about how much of a roller coaster it is.

it's a good vibe for me, and i hope it's a good vibe for everyone else!

if you wanna join we'd be happy to have you!