#just recently started the fear of falling stars AND???? wow

[beeftendergroin]

psa: please don't directly drink venom from a serpent's mouth

a fanart of @bladesmercy's works! initially inspired by rain in june, but after re-reading the other fics it turned into this🙂‍↕️ again, thanks a lot!!

[gyllenhaalstories]

Hi Laurie! 💛

You know what's coming, hehe 👀

I saw this in another fandom and now I'm sending the same question to a bunch of Jake girlies (gn) because it’s so interesting seeing everybody’s answers!

Who are your Top 3 Jake boys and why? Is there a specific piece of art (fic, gif, fan art, etc.) for them that you like a lot?

hiiiiiiiiii!!! 💖 i do know what's coming teehee! i love his characters so much. even if the movie is not up my alley, his character always stands out. i'll watch everything he's in just because i'm obsessed (except spirit untamed, it is against my principle to support this horrible version of spirit the stallion of the cimarron) i just love them like they're just so neat i love them so much. OKAY TIME TO CHOOSE.

Elwood Dalton

i cannot believe that davis was dethroned as my forever ultimate favorite character but he was. dalton is so special to me. i've been obsessed with him since the very beginning when i was looping videos to get his full name and start writing for him immediately. so he's been living in my mind rent from for a LONG and i hope he never leaves. i lost count of how many times i've watched the movie (especially the scenes with laura!!!), it's so good. i'm already seated for the sequel idc what people say i want it and i will love it! also, i love how dalton ressembles billy and lou! the scene where he punches the guy to death and tell him how he will perish was so hot like like welcome back lou bloom you were missed <3 dalton is funny, and suicidal and caring and violent and what more could i ask? yeah okay i could ask to use his titties as pillows to fall asleep on.

my absolute favourite dalton creations are the wonderful gifs that @stephendorff made! i proclaim myself as their biggest fan when it comes to jake's gifs because oh my god the talent!!! i adore the parallel gifsets, so let me link you to a bunch! omg me when + nice hoodie + so bloody yum + i will cover these men with hello kitty bandaids + need both of them at the same time.

Detective Loki

he's an obvious one! jack twist, donnie darko and detective loki must be the most well loved characters in this fandom FOR ALL THE RIGHT REASONS. i love loki. i'm convinced deep in my soul that he would absolutely despise me. i can't shut up, i'm clingy as fuck and we'd spend most of his rare free time watching barbie movies. but it could be nice! i'd pack him his lunch, i'd learn to iron his shirts, i'd follow him to his barber and beg the man to give me the same haircut... like, we'd have a good life! aside from getting eaten alive by the constant fear that loki is in danger but shh. i love loki so much, i love all of the mysterious details about him, i love that jake played such a big part into building this character.

there are SO many amazing fics for detective loki, and rightfully so! he deserves it! in my opinion, @det-loki is the best writer. star captures loki in such an unique way, her writing feels like deleted scenes & extra footage from the movie. i know i always recommend star when it comes to loki fics but if you've ever read what she's posted, you would do the same! @charliehoennam has also posted some amazing det loki fics recently that i cannot recommend enough!!! here are the links: cat n mouse, dinner date & the dinner party (my personal favourite!).

Tommy Cahill

when i watched brothers, i conveniently just... skipped the military scenes. so the movie was all about tommy and i loved it. wow what a sweet romcom. i just love him. he's fun and sweet and he has had it so rough with his family that treats him like a black sheep. his father is acting like tommy is the failure when the only failure i'm seeing is a parent who failed to love his child like he deserved. AND I WOULD GIVE HIM ALL THE LOVE HE NEEDS! endless unconditional love. all he wants is to have a family of his own and be happy and become a better person. i have no doubt that he has what it takes to achieve his goals. he's my beanie baby and i love him to the moon and back.

controversy alert! but... i'm not mad at tommy and grace for kissing (skipping most of sam scenes helps a lot) but like... he was nice to grace for the most part, he helped her with the kitchen, he was so fun with the kids... he can't do anything wrong you know? i have horrible morals, i'm aware. so i'll just link to the video of the kiss scene because i love it and i love watching it and i wish it was me.

my top 3 usually fluctuates, but i'd say that overall, it's the same five characters that are on rotation. dalton, loki, tommy, davis and right now the 5th position is switching between john kinley & jerry brinson. i do want to say that i was pleasantly surprised with how much i liked anthony swofford and brian taylor when i watched their respective movies, i didn't think i'd enjoy their characters much but it might be time to retire my #1 bald!jake hater title. it was so hard to choose though. i feel bad for the ones i left out. i love you danny! and billy! and donnie! and adam! and holden! and okay fine i'll shut up. i know i've told you already, but this was such a sweet initiative to go around and spread some joy!!! thank you for doing this, and for sending it to me as well! 🥰

[izvmimi]

Part of you believes you should find standing in the middle of the immaculate improved and remodeled church where Asta grew up to be something quaint and below you. Your upbringing was that of perfectly manicured events, days spent in a sun drenched parlor taking tea in delicate gowns, but you aren’t the girl you grew up as anymore.

You’re a woman, blossoming into the most beautiful part of your life, rainbow tinted light shining down over your face, sun shining through the recently finished stained glass panel that covers the back wall of the church. Red over your cheeks and lips, blue over the tip of your nose, gold from the yellow star at the very top of the depiction.

“What do you think?”

Asta breaks you from your reverie, eyes nervously darting between you and the art his wages as a Magic Knight funded. He’s been sending money back home for years and the once dilapidated place where the children slept six to a bed has now become something sprawling, a community hub where the hungry are fed and the needy are provided for.

It wasn’t all his doing, of course, but this was.

The moment he knew he wished to devote his life to adoring you he planned to create something beautiful to give you even if your feelings weren’t the same as his have always been. It benefits the village but most of all, it has always been to see the look of awe on your face

Depictions of love and family; of safety and protection come together piece by piece in front of you. Every shard of glass paints a picture that has unfolded right here in Hage Village, heroes born from tough soil just as those potatoes they’re so fond of do.

You turn to glance at him and reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers. It’s hard to render you speechless yet he manages to do so often and well. He squeezes your palm against his and leans into you, eager to be as close as possible always.

“I think it’s breathtaking,” you marvel, glancing from the top and downward again, smiling when you recognize a tiny spiky haired figure that must be him. “It’s…wow. I fear I may not have the words to describe it.”

He chuckles, looking up at it again himself but quickly dragging his eyes back toward what he’d rather stare at. Rubbing circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, his face warms when he remembers why he brought you here in the first place and you notice the shift in his being, the soft furrow of his brow and the glimmer of uncertainty he’s trying to hide.

“What do you think, Asta?”

Nervously chuckling, he reaches to rub the back of his neck and smiles boyishly. You love that smile and all that you know has made it so bright. Love shines through him just as it does this masterpiece and you’re currently being warmed by both.

Lucky you.

“I know this might be a lot to ask and it’s okay if you want to say no,” he starts and you raise a brow, keeping your gaze fixed on him. “But I’d like to marry you here.”

Red light colors his cheeks rosy, although the flush across the bridge of his nose is likely doing most of that. Green matches his eyes and makes them gleam. Yellow shines further down on his body, a slip of color across the ring finger of his left hand that is joined with your right one.

You’ve never been one to ignore a sign when you’ve seen it.

“I’m not asking you to marry me, not yet anyway,” he rushes to add when your silence lingers a beat longer than he’s comfortable with. “But when we do...”

He trails off and you shift toward him, cupping his cheek and kissing him. Happily kissing you back, his hand falls from the back of his neck to your hip to hold you close. Each of you smile, a curve you can feel against the lips of the other, blissfully in love and happy.

“Yes.” You whisper against his mouth. “I’d love to.”

Asta breaks away from you and searches for any signs you may be changing your mind or only saying yes to be nice but instead he sees his world, honest and life changing as she is, staring at him with affection he could not have dared dreamed of in her eyes.

“I did it for you so I’m really happy you said yes.”

He admits this quietly, perhaps fearful that your humility will rush in and you will let him know that nothing so grand should be done on your behalf.

“For me?” It’s coming and he can feel it, tensing slightly. “You shouldn’t have but I am so grateful that you did.”

Giggling, you lean into him, letting him gently rock the pair of you back and forth in the middle of the aisle.

Someday you’ll be wearing a white dress, dappled with rainbow light, while promising him all of your forevers.

Someday cannot come soon enough.

i think i might turn into seafoam what did you just do to me

[annislife]

We are... together ..! In reality 😯

I still cannot believe it sometimes.. even if its 4 months already !! Yes since the second of October.

I was in Cyprus.. and felt again this very.. familiar jealousy feeling.. when one of our common female friend was asking him some random questions just to talk with him because of boredom.. also asking some relationships-related topics and he was also joking honestly with her, also saying something like he has some “needs” or sth.. 

I went running and felt this.. yes very many times already felt - burning feeling in my stomach.. this heat and pain. Sadness- disappointment-anger all mixed, until I was running and crying alone in desert. Just the whole city where our hotel was, ended suddenly and I was alone next to highway and no trees, no green spot, just yellow sandy ground everywhere I look. I turned back. And then it was clear: I still care 100% about him, even if I had this short “other guy” topic just recently. And it was clear that... my attempts to kill the love.. had failed. My heart and body still loved him. So. I decided, there is no other ways, I should relax and let this all happen. 

The hurt for my kids and husband, for my parents and his parents - this was already done. Now they are healing. Yes this will be hard at the beginning. With him. Yes it will be hard in the future too. Yes when publishing everything- people may tell us.. jokes and.. maybe some really is disappointed. We should just face it and live it through. It is all hard. And maybe it doesn´t work out. Maybe he lies to me. And I will find it out and I will get hurt, maybe this all ends with the huge explosion. But then - I just- cry again, tell about it to my sisters, who say good things to me, I go running and cry again and.. then I will stand up again. Maybe everything this happens, but- I have to do it because.. there is no other way. 

So! Now we enjoy 🥰 ! Yes sometimes the happy feeling is this strong that I again feel the fear that.. it will all end or its is not real or.. But.. I study to - just stay and enjoy in peace 😊😊

And he is... even more beautiful... even more cooler, smarter, funnier than before! He is... wow.. really.. so normal person 😲. Yes I can feel insulted if he criticizes something about me because.. I am... still a bit scared that... if I am bad at something.. but maybe this “other girl” who has been fulgurating all the time between us.. maybe she is better than me.. or.. as she said she is starting to “have some more friendship” with him or sth.. that was scary to hear.. also she has written in the public group like a “joke” that she is not trying something I dont remember “because it will cause their break up immediately” or sth where I understood she is still a danger.. but.. he tells me relax and not to be afraid. Yes I should try to let all controlling free! 

Haha we have a funny thing - well I have had it since I was born- that I wish some wish while blowing out the candle or saying with somebody exactly the same line together accidentally or when you see the star falling. I do it all the time and ... I have always the same 1 wish... And he says he thinks he knows what my wish is 🥰 and.. it is also his wish? But yes.. we will not say that out loud. But yes.. I think we both know 💕. 

[parvulous-writings]

Stars //Sith!Obi-Wan x Pregnant!Reader

Request:   Heya! First of all, I just want to say, wow!!! I loved wvry word of the Vader x Reader you did, and reading your notes, I really don't mind it as an AU! I've never really read anything to do with Sith Obi-Wan before, though to be fair I only just got into Star Wars again 😅 This isn't really a request, but from what I can see from your posts, you seem to really like Obi-Wan, well, Ewan Mcgregor in general 😂I wanted to ask if you could write another x Reader, but this time a Sith Obi-Wan AU?Thanks for reading! -Red ❤ p.s, @rey-is-not-a-skywalker, you're welcome for requesting the sith x reader, I guess you're obsessed as I am 😂 p.s the second, I'm loving the new pfp!

Requested by: ​Red

Summary: The reader has some news for Sith Lord Obi-Wan Kenobi

Warnings: The reader is AFAB, pregnancy

Words: 1.7K

Notes: You would be correct in assuming I love Obi-Wan and Ewan McGregor as a whole. Also I’m glad you like the new pfp! I am also in love with it! :)  Did I self indulge with this oneshot? I think you know the answer. Leave me alone, I am too much of a simp at this point.  I have never been pregnant, so some of this may be inaccurate. 

Not my gif

An old Jedi’s fall from grace was a never a pretty sight to see, it was no glorious tale to tell from any side. It was full of hurt, pain, hatred, suffering. This was more than true for the fallen Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. His downfall was the least expected out of those who turned away from the light, he had always been the most loyal of men, the most faithful of soldiers.  Perhaps, in part at least, this was what drove him away from his original allegiance. He was an exceptional leader of course, the most fantastic of generals, but besides that, in the larger picture, to the Jedi Order as a whole he was nothing more than a faceless defender of the galaxy. Just another of the tens of thousands Jedi.  Another factor that led to the man’s path to the dark side, was you. What you made him feel. The passion, the love. An indescribable feeling, all he could say about it was that it was truly wonderful. He did not mind the fear, or the hatred that came with it, for you made it all worth it. The massive highs compared to the lows outweighed them greatly, and thus he gave it all for and to you. His passion, his loyalty, his love. Everything he had, every fiber of his being, he gave it all to you. If he could turn the worlds on theirs heads, and you gave the word, he’d do it. 

You had initially been shocked at the man’s sudden change of life-plans and of loyalty. Though, the more you thought about it, the more you began to convince yourself, perhaps he had made the right choice. He wasn’t so uptight in regards to public affection now- he’d often smother you with kisses in front of company, or hold your arm or hand as you wander about in cities or halls. Despite the Sith being the darker beings of the Force, the life you now lived was almost... Peaceful. After a while, you very much enjoyed it. There weren’t so many rules now, and you both felt free.  Though, not everything about your new life was free or peaceful. There were times that Obi-Wan was pulled away from you much like in the way he was during the times of the Republic and the Jedi Order. He’d be wrenched from your embrace for weeks or months at a time, and the holocom conversations you shared were not the same as actual conversations. The comforting presence you both gave to one another were missing, and it was painfully obvious to the pair of you. 

One particular night, whilst Obi-Wan had been away, you were staring out at the stars- each of them twinkling from their position on the blanket of the night from their positions thousands of light-years away. They fascinated you every night, though you knew some of the planetary systems by name and had visited a few yourself, you couldn’t help but imagine what could be hiding away on them,  what could be awaiting discovery. They also distracted you from something plaguing your mind on this particular night, something you needed to get off of your chest. It had been bothering you more and more over the last few days, ever since you had made the discovery. 

You are brought from your train of thought by the bleeping of your comm. You move leisurely to answer it, there was only one person who could be calling you at this time of night, but you knew he wouldn’t mind you taking a moment longer than usual. You answer your lover’s call, and a murmur on the other end of the line hushes- he must have been talking to someone as he awaited your answer. “Ah, my beloved.. I thought you had fallen asleep.” He mused quietly, his smug expression clear even through the blue hologram, and you can’t help but chuckle at him.  “No. I was looking out at the stars,” You tell him, plainly. Sunsets and night skies held a special place in both of your hearts; you had spent many nights on Coruscant looking out at them, telling each other the wishes you had made on shooting stars that you rarely saw. You heard Obi-Wan sighed quietly. He knew your habits when he was away, and what they meant. “I should be returning soon, my dear.” He assured you, lowering his voice to nothing more than a whisper. “I am trying to get this done, you know, but it’s not as easy as-”  “I know, I know.” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around yourself, looking down at the floor. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Obi-Wan’s brows furrows, clearly he’s noticed your odd behaviour. 

“Something’s bothering you.” Obi-Wan notes, tucking his hands into the sleeves of his long robe. “Tell me,” He demanded. Though his tone was soft, it was still very much a command. You start to shake your head at him.  “I would rather not... Not over the comm.” You start, looking over to his projection. He looks even more concerned than before- partially because you disobeyed an order from him, and partially because you were willingly withholding information from him. You never did either of those things, not with him. You were both in balance, and trusted each other completely. He knew this had to be incredibly serious for you to say something like this.  “Then I shall return immediately.” He no longer cared for his assignment; he would much prefer that he knew you were safe and out of harm’s way. You start to shake your head more frantically.  “No, Kenobi- you must finish the task the Emperor has given you, he-”  “Can wait.” Obi-Wan finished abruptly. You could tell from the way he stood and held himself- chest out, shoulders back, spine rigid and straight-  that he could not be swayed on this. “He can wait.” He repeated, wanting the words to sink in, for you more than himself. “I will be returning, whether you agree with me or not. I will be back by the morning.” And with that, those final harsh words, he ended the call. You sighed quietly, running your hands over your face in exasperation and stress. You hadn’t wanted to pull your lover away from the mission he had been given, you had wanted to wait just a few more days till he returned as had been planned. You sighed deeply, moving away from the comm, heading towards bed as you strip off your clothes.  You nestle under the covers, wrapping your arms around yourself for some comfort. 

By morning, you were well rested. As your eyes started to crack and flutter open, you became acutely aware of the arm around your waist, and the head buried into the back of your neck. You shuffle slightly to look over your shoulder, smiling slightly at the peaceful expression on the face of the sleeping man behind you. By rights, you didn’t even have to turn over to know that it was Obi-Wan, you knew the feel of his aura and his touch. Still, it provided a sense of comfort, knowing with more certainty that it was him. You shuffle round to face him fully, brushing some of his auburn locks away from his closed eyes. His nose scrunches ever so slightly at the contact; and he too starts to wake up. It’s a slow process for him, and always had been. Even during his time serving the Order; though your mornings together were few and far between, you had noticed this little pattern of his. His eyes crack open like yours had done, and a drowsy smile moves over his lips.  “Good morning, darling...” He yawned softly, before pressing a gentle kiss to your jaw. “You look stunning...” He told you, his lips still pressed against your skin as he gave you the compliment- no doubt the first of many that morning.  “You flatter me, Obi..” You murmur in reply, and presses kiss after feather-light kiss over your jaw and neck.  “I speak only the truth for you, my love...” He trailed off for a moment, as he started to push himself up onto his elbows. “Now... Onto business...” He mused, “You still need to tell me what’s bothering you.” He pointed out, and he was right, as he often was. “So, I would start talking, my dear.” 

Though his demeanour is playful, you know you shouldn’t argue this time around. You sit up, leaning against your pillows as your try to think of how to start talking about your recent discovery- despite it’s wonderful connotations, it was not as easy as one might think. “Obi...” You begin.  “Darling.” He replied, hardly missing a beat.  “I have some... Rather pleasing news.” He nods, prompting you to continue. “You... Are going to be a father.”  It takes him a moment to actually register your words, for their meaning to sink in. He practically tackles you back into the bed when it clicks somewhere in his mind, the widest smile on his face. He’s laughing breathlessly, hardly able to believe the news or contain his excitement because of it.  “Is it so?” He asked, his hand splaying over your stomach as he spoke. “My, my...” He mumbled- and it was moments like this that showed how much he had changed from his old ways. Had you given such news to him whilst he was still a Jedi- he would have panicked at first, asked if you wished to keep the child, and if you had done he would have likely asked you to leave to a slightly more rural planetary system. He had no fear now, and so didn’t need to ask you. He accepts it with ease in these times, and is more than happy to receive such news.  He had no fear in rearing a child now, so long as you wished for it too. He paused as this thought washed over him, then gave you a curious look. “Are we... Keeping the child?” He asked, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.  “I think we could be wonderful parents... If you’re not away so much.” You poke your finger into his chest.  “Alright... I will discuss it...” He mused, resting his head near you abdomen, gazing at it in wonder. He could hardly believe that your child- the fruits of both of you- was growing there, and he was more than just excited to meet his child. He pulled you close again, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances as the morning wound on, till you eventually fell asleep again in his arms, comforted by his presence. 

[aotimagines]

Hey! I love everything you guys write. I’ve been following since like 2016? 2017? Lol, and I never get sick of it. Your character writing is just so on-point! :) I wanted to ask for headcannons or a scenario (whichever you feel more inspired to write!) for Eren and his s/o. What would their relationship look like transitioning from the early Survey Corp years to now? It also breaks my heart seeing how he’s changed, but I’d love to hear your thoughts on this and how it’d play out :,)

Wow, anon! I’m speechless, tbh. Mod Spookzz and I created this blog back in 2016. It was a time when a lot of snk blogs weren’t active with the exception of two or three. To know that you’ve stuck with us for this long really means a lot. Thank-you so much! I’ve...thought about this, a lot. Like, a lot. There may be some projecting in here based on my own OC, but this is genuinely what I think would happen. I hope you enjoy! Happy Valentine’s Day, btw! My gift to everyone is...angst. Again. I’m sorry, lmao. MANGA SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT. Also, fun fact, but this post is our 666th post, lmao.

CANON RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS: 

✩ I know the recent fandom interpretation of Eren is that he’s some charming, charismatic fuckboi, but that is...not him. At all. Not that there’s anything wrong with fanon interpretation, ofc, but Eren is...lmao.

☾ Eren doesn’t know anything about romance, period. He canonically ignores Reiner, Jean, and Armin when they are praising girls and shows zero romantic interest in just about everyone. 

✩ He’s preoccupied with other things, you know? His mind doesn’t really wander to romance often, so his s/o probably started out as his friend. 

☾ Like, it’s hard not to fall for Eren’s idealism. He’s a super passionate speaker and has some really inspiring thoughts and ideas. He’s not stupid--not by a long shot--and this magnetism draws his s/o to him like a moth to a flame. 

✩ His s/o probably realizes that their friendship and admiration for Eren has shifted into something romantic with all the ensuing drama that happens during their first trial expedition in the Survey Corps. The fear of losing Eren again really hits home and they are at a complete loss. 

☾ They wouldn’t want to ruin their friendship, so they would keep the feelings locked away for a long time. 

✩ Truthfully speaking, I can’t see Eren and any s/o getting together until the events between the four-year time skip. 

☾ Yes, Eren is worried about what he saw the day he touched Historia’s hand and often wonders about whether or not the future he peeked into is set-in-stone. 

✩ It changes his disposition. The bright, energetic, blunt boy that his s/o once knew is gone. Eren is quiet and often lost in his own thoughts; it’s not like him. So, they would cling to his side, trying to figure out what was wrong with him and what was bothering him. 

☾ How no one else doesn’t notice the change in Eren is beyond me. I’d imagine that his s/o is so aware of it that it becomes almost painful to see how withdrawn Eren has become. 

✩ Eren almost comes clean to them numerous times, but doesn’t want to put that burden on their shoulders. By the time he’s around eighteen, he realizes that he’s in love with his s/o. They are a constant in his life--always helping him and trying to distract him by taking his mind off things. It’s the only time Eren feels normal and he comes to crave their attention just as much as they do his.

☾ He confesses to his s/o beneath the stars on a night where they half-dragged him out of bed to see a meteor shower. When he finally gets to kiss them, Eren feels alive for the first time in almost three years. Everything seems perfect and he becomes scared to let go of their hand in fear that his happiness he’s found could slip between the cracks of his fingers at any moment. 

✩ Which is what happens. No matter how happy Eren is to simply be by his s/o’s side, the realization that the future he saw would come true no matter what he did makes Eren realize that being with him would only hurt his s/o down the line.

☾ As much as it kills him on the inside, he’d break up with them. They’d be in tears and ask why and the only thing Eren can think to say is that he isn’t in love with them, anymore. They are both broken hearted, but Eren knows this decision would save their life. He would never fathom asking them to go along with the Rumbling idea and loves them too much to be selfish.  

✩ The next few months are painful. It’s obvious to just about everyone, Eren’s s/o included, that he broke up with them for some unknown reason. Despite being broken up, Eren and his s/o still meet up and spend time with one another. Even though he broke up with them, Eren can’t stay away. 

☾ When Eren escapes to Marley, his s/o is crushed and wants answers so bad. Even though they trust Eren, his actions become hard to justify when he kills innocent people just to keep Paradis safe. 

✩ In canon, Eren and his s/o wouldn’t have a happy ending. It makes me so sad to think about, but...maybe in another life, they’d have a chance at happiness. 

[1ddiscourseoftheday]

Thurs 25 Feb ‘21

Well well, look at Eleanor, making her way up out of the tags and all the way into the main post today, by which I mean ELEANORCALDER not ELEANORJ92! That’s right- she changed her insta name, holy shit! Why do I care, you ask? Because it NO LONGER MATCHES WITH LOUIS! It probably only means she’s moving forward with her influencer stuff, something that’s been in the works for a while with her having an increased presence and new(er) contract, and very recently with more presence on various other accounts and connections to brand accounts and a work trip that involved enough backstage changes to her account to result in a brief shadowban- but the fact that she did the very thing people have been clamoring for Louis to do for years AND has literally rebranded her account to be for something other than an adjunct to Louis’ presence is INTERESTING INDEED. I am LOOKING, and don’t think I didn’t see that stuffed bear in people clothes she posted today….

New Liam content is up in the form of some Hugo Man fragrance stuff-- the new ad materials ask “I am Hugo… AND WHAT ARE YOU?” like a more confrontational (but less existentially distressing) version of Do You Know Who You Are and suggest that everyone Go Your Own Way (like a less poppy Fleetwood Mac). The (translated) article out today tells us that the perfume “gives you many options, maybe it will close some doors, but open a few others,” okay, getting more existential and weird now but have no fear; the scent “automatically awakens the necessary self-confidence in each man.” ANYWAY there are cute new pictures of Liam in his Hugo collection clothes and a video (filmed quite a while back I believe) of him gamely chatting about the brand collab- there’s nothing like watching a man with anxiety issues trying to convince the interviewer he just loves taking risks but he does a good job of fielding the questions and gives us a classic Liam gem, “I think I embody the idea of living in the moment because I never usually know what the hell is going on until just before it happens,” plus a comment on his solo material I know people will find interesting: “I feel like I’m starting to get a little more freedom in what I do”.

Niall responded to a suggestion that he should be the next James Bond-- “had a missed call earlier, could have been them,” and Ryan Tedder posted a pic of his water bottle (I know it’s his cause it has a sticky note on it that says “NIALL”),  confirming that Niall owns YET ANOTHER different color of hydroflask (or he did, Ryan does caption it “never giving this back”) in addition to his apocalypse bunker stash of canned water cases in his garage like wow. Can people please stop pestering stars about hydrating! Look what you’ve DONE to this man, he’s obsessed!

Well everyone loves lots of water I guess: the Falling music video has been nominated for a production design award (Art Director’s Guild). It’s up against the Cardigan video, you gotta give them props for consistency! I guess they know what they like; pianos with water coming out of them! And Zayn’s NIL comic updated- today’s new panel (set to Unf*ckwitable) doesn’t offer any drastic advancement to the plot, but it does offer the cool sight of the two Zayns confronting one another.

[incorrigible-groupie]

Wow, this analysis of the last episode of Helluva Boss went way further that I wanted…

« Blitzo is in love with Stolas !!! »

What.

Hell no.

No no no no.

Did we watch the same show ?

Even since the pilot we know the « relationship » between them is an arrangement more than a love story. I mean, Blitzo doesn’t swoon about Stolas, doesn’t think about Stolas and only talks about Stolas when he remembers he needs the book, he freaking spent some time with him only because he was paid (you know… when he went to Loo Loo Land ?). He shows more compassion towards Moxxie (while treating him like sh*t) than towards Stolas, for Satan’s sake he went to the Harvest Moon Festival only because Millie’s family was there.

Did you see Blitzo’s face when Striker aimed at Stolas ? And then the F*CKING TERROR ON HIS FACE WHEN STRIKER AIMED AT MOXXIE ??? Blitzo was ready to tear an arm appart with his own teeth. But for Stolas ? Meh.

So no, Blitzo isn’t in love with Stolas.

And episode 6 proved that.

DISCLAIMER : The following post is nothing against Stolitz shippers obviously, especially because both characters are great and badass but I really think their feelings aren't synchronized and therefore their relationship isn't completely healthy. They could have a nice one... but not yet. And most importantly, the hallucination scene isn’t about Stolas. Let me explain why I believe that.

« Did you see the golden feathers that put Blitzo back to himself ? »

Oh you mean the golden feathers that turned into chains and that Stolas took to bring Blitzo to his feet ?

Yeah, I saw them.

Of course I saw them.

This is exactly what I expected how Blitzo sees his « relationship » with Stolas, this is exactly the thing that proves that I was right all along.

Blitzo doesn’t love Stolas, he is only with him because he has to.

And with what happened before the stair scene, I know now why.

Blitzo feels like trash, still feels like trash, maybe because of his older relationships, probably because he is from the lowest of the low (working in a circus, then a little bit higher when dating a pop star…).

Did we watch the same show ?

The show that talks a lot about inequality between castes, the show that talks a lot about how difficult it was for Blitzo to make his own company, made from scratch ???

Striker, IN THE PREVIOUS EPISODE, made an entire statement about how Blitzo is underestimated and Blitzo felt it. He was very close to accept to go with him… but he needed to protect his « easiest lanky ticket to Earth ».

Stolas is just a tool for Blitzo to get what he wants. At first, I thought it was because he is searching for something in Earth (and uses the missions as a distraction). But now, I think it’s about something more important : power. Stolas’ feathers have nothing to do with his « transformation », it just shows that Blitzo wears a mask, a costume, a cleaner suit to pretend he isn’t like trash, that he wasn’t trash, that he will not go back to trash.

Whatever it takes.

« Yeah but the figures that are fanning Stolas in such a caring way… »

You mean more like slaves ?

Again, castes, stairs, chains, fanning ? You see a metaphor of love, I see a metaphor of slavery. That’s really disturbing. This is a representation of how Blitzo feels towards Stolas and gosh I’m so worried about him, and them. This is about power.

« But he is climbing towards him ! He wants him ! »

No. He doesn’t want to go to Stolas. He wants to climb those stairs. He wants to go higher. He wants to stay away from the trash. This is about power.

« But the chains… »

I hate those chains.

This is about power.

This is about power.

THIS IS ABOUT POWER.

« No. I think this is about fear. I think he fears to be rejected, so he bound himself to someone, but he also fears of commitment… »

…

Fears of commitment ?

Blitzo ?

What the hell ?

Are we talking about the boss who is not afraid to show (not say, but SHOW) how deeply he cares about his employees ? Are we talking about the demon who adopted Loona and says to everyone that he loves his daughter ? Are we talking about the Blitzo who shares his passions everywhere even on Instagram ? You think someone who is afraid to be rejected would be afraid to commit ? He knows how to express his feelings, he even lies to make the ones he loves happy (yes, I’m talking about Moxxie’s taste in music, duh).

And he does talk about his relationship with Stolas, but do you remember how he calls it ? A transaction.

The book in exchange of passionate fornication.

Nothing more, nothing less.

When people says that Stolas is his boyfriend, Blitzo denies it because he doesn’t want to be seen as just a lover, just a partner, he doesn’t want to have an image of a demon who had success because he is lucky an higher being felt in love with him.

No.

He planned that.

He organized that. He slept with Stolas to stole the book, he still sleeps with Stolas FOR the book.

That demon has ambition that is not related to love.

« Have you even listened to what Blitzo’s subconscience said ? »

… Actually no, not really.

I’m sorry.

English isn’t my native language so it was harder than usual to understand ‘Moxxie’ gibberish (also, I was tripping balls listening to Brandon Rogers playing everyone voices).

I started this all post while not considering what was said, I only listened to my guts which twisted while watching Blitzo being chained because of Stolas.

I’m sorry. I may be wrong…

… But I never believed Blitzo loved Stolas and I won’t start now.

So how can I explain how what is showed and what is saying are related ?

Maybe because Blitzo is scared to be put on a pedestal in his friends minds whereas what he is doing with Stolas isn’t completely right. But he must do it for a reason. Like I said, that demon has ambition.

This is about power.

I think Blitzo has a goal in mind (which he wasn’t able to obtain alone, like Robot Beetlejuice said), a goal he will gain by sacrificing the respect his friends have for him.

You know… whatever it takes.

I think he knows he will disappoint them so he wants to enjoy his remaining time with them while not getting too close to them so the fall won’t be that hard.

« So you agree ? Blitzo is in love with Stolas but can’t make it real. »

Still no.

For all the reason I said before, Blitzo doesn’t seem attached to Stolas. It’s not that he hates him but he doesn’t really care that much.

« Or he pretends he doesn’t care, after all Moxxie said… »

Yes.

Moxxie.

Wait a second.

It started with Moxxie. 

This entire scene isn’t about Stolas and Blitzo relationship, it’s about Blitzo and Moxxie.

« I’m torturing you in your own hallucination. »

(Yep, I have access to the dialogues, you can’t stop me now.)

You are right, it shows Blitzo’s fear : his fear not be a good friend to Moxxie. How could he ? His past relationships were garbage, even recently he hired someone how wasn’t trustworthy, and he’s currently having an affair with someone he doesn’t really like.

I said earlier that the golden feathers put Blitzo into a clean costume, a disguise no one is supposed to see through.

Except that Moxxie does.

Moxxie knew all along that Blitzo is only pretending, Moxxie is more hurt when Blitzo isn’t honest with him than when Blitzo says awful comments to him. 

Moxxie sees Blitzo with the broken heart on Blitzo’s forehead, exactly like how Blitzo sees himself.

Do they talk to each other while tripping ? Do they listen to each other ? Do they only hear what they want to hear ?

Because their thoughts are way too synchronized (Moxxie talking about how Blitzo pushes everyone away, Blitzo being at the top of some stairs…).

Maybe they do talk to each other and then have their own perception of this conversation in their minds :

Blitzo feeling it like accusations that burn his skin like golden feathers who shut him up and chain him and blind him so he will have to abandon everything he is and loves to obtain his goal, Moxxie believing it like their relationship can go higher and evolve and be fine and equal finally.

OH, AND THERE’S SOMETHING MORE : I know there is a theory about Moxxie being a fallen royalty and I think this episode showed that if it’s true, Blitzo knows, with how in his hallucination Moxxie eloquently talked and then transformed into a princess while climbing the stairs (without needing Stolas’ feathers).

Maybe that’s also why Blitzo doesn’t think he is worthy to be friend with Moxxie. And why he is angry at him : because he is jealous, Moxxie gave up everything Blitzo wanted for unknown reason (but probably for Millie, why annoys Blitzo even more not to mention that while Moxxie gave up power for an healthy relationship, Blitzo is craving for power by using an unhealthy one).

« Okay, let’s say that the hallucinations were about Moxxie and Blitzo. But… But THE KISS ! »

Oh yeah the kiss, let’s talk about that !

When Stolas goes to kiss Blitzo, our favorite demon pulls the king’s hair so it won’t happen and… Gosh he doesn’t want to be kissed by Stolas, does he ? I’m sorry but, no, this doesn’t feel right. I may not be an expert about romance but… what ?

This is about power.

Blitzo doesn’t hate having sex with Stolas, I mean, he thinks the role-plays are weird but he goes with it, and I think that’s because during the role-play he is always the one who dominates the other.

Just like with the kiss. The kiss happened only because Blitzo made it so.

It makes sense, those role-plays : Blitzo wants to forget he isn’t the one with power (which is why he made that sad face when he sees Stolas on his throne or when Stolas saves them because he is so strong and Blitzo maybe feel sad that he isn’t strong enough to protect his group, that he still needs the help of someone he knows will ask for compensation after ?), and Stolas wants to forget he is the one with power (and forget that his favorite imp probably doesn’t love him back so he lets him do whatever he wants to do to him and maybe he will fell in love ?).

Anyway.

I feel… No, I’m sure this all dream sequence is more about the power people have on Blitzo.

And power shouldn’t have something to do with love.

Maybe one day Stolas and Blitzo will put aside their differences, the huge gap between them, maybe they will realize that their ranks have a big impact on their relationship and THEN have a real, romantic, healthy one.

But for now seeing Stolas and Blitzo together is heartbreaking for me because one of them feels forced while the other is completely in love.

[itsthestutterforme]

I Reject You (Ransom Drysdale)

Summary: Ransom has a friends with benefits relationship with Y/N recently learned that she is pregnant with Ransom's pup but rejects him as the father because of how he treated her when they were together.

Notes: GIF is not mine, slight smut, fluff, A/B/O dynamics, mentions of human trafficking, mentions of depression, implied sexual assault (if any of these trigger you, please do not read. Take care of yourselves.)

--

Here you are exactly where you promised yourself you weren't going. As soon as you saw Ransom sitting in your office chair, you knew where this was headed. He picked you up from your job and drove straight to his house.

Your body shakes when he lazily thrusts into your soaked cunt as you both are laying down on your side. Leaning your head against his collarbone, your mouth falls open when he rubs your clit when his thumb.

You follow his hips when he pulls out of you, leaving just the tip in before drilling into you hard and fast. "You are such a slut for my dick aren't you? No matter how many times you say you never want to see me again. You. Are. Mine. Omega." He whispers into you ear and you were starting to see stars.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips as you cum for the fifth time today. His knot pops open and his seed decorated your walls. He pulls out of you and you lay on your back, mustering up the strength to get up but he grabs your chin roughly so you could look at him.

"No one can make you cum like I can. No one." You pull away from his grip and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. You curse at your body for trembling. You needed to get out of there and quick before he notices something is off.

You noticed a different abouf a week ago and went to the doctor. Only to find out that you were pregnant by no other than Ransom Drysdale. The trust fund playboy. There's no way you were going to tell him the baby was his. You needed to end whatever this is and you needed to end it now.

"You smell different," he says, trailing his nose along the curve of your neck. "Is your heat starting?" He asks and you choose not to say anything. What is there to say to a man that calls you a cumslut one second and is worried about your well being, the next?

You stand on wobbly legs and slide on your underwear while in search for the rest of your clothing. "When I talk to you, I expect you to speak." He says, standing from the bed and you jump into your dress pants. When you reach for you blouse, he rips from the your hand and tosses it across the room.

Attempting to get the blouse, a growl emits deep in his chest and you still your movements. You don't meet his eyes but you could feel the anger blossoming in his gaze. He grabs your throat sharply and lowered his head until his blue eyes met yours.

"Speak, Omega." Chills rolls down your spine at his command. "There's nothing to talk to you about." "You could have just said that. You didn't have to ignore me." "I didn't peg you as the sensitive type, Drysdale." You snark, and he allows you to pull his hand away from your throat.

"You're not going to shower before you go like you normally do? What, am I that bad of a person?" "There's nothing normal about this, Ransom. And to answer your question, yes, you are." You walk across the room and button up your blouse.

"What's up with you? You've been acting bitchy all day." "Wow, you talk like you're a ray of sunshine." "You know what, you want me to speak. Fine, I'll speak. Don't talk like you give a shit about me because you and I both know you don't. The only thing you care about is getting your rocks off like a horny little bitch."

Oh your hormones are going to get you in trouble. The omega in you was trembling with fear of what Ransom was going to do to you. He snarls and before you could even think about running, he turns you around and shoves into the nearest wall. His eyes glowing a dreadful crimson as he growled in your face.

"You got a death wish, omega? Who the fuck do you think you're talking to." He snarls and you instinctively expose you neck to him. Your arm maternally drapes over your stomach protectively and he noticed. His eyes lost their glow and he stares down at your stomach with wide eyes.

He takes a few steps back and you could hear his anxious heart pattering in his chest. "Is it mine?" "No," you answer a little too quickly and he raises his eyebrow questionigly. "You're lying," he says, taking a step toward you with his eyes glazing over your mating gland.

"Absolutely not," you snap and he takes another step towards you. "Stop, Ransom. Please don't," you whimper as he blew warm air over your sensitive gland. Something else stirred inside of you that wasn't your omega part of you. It was something more dominant and heavy.

Your hand comes up and in between your neck and his face. Your gripped his face and shoved him as hard as you could with surprising strength. You sent him flying across the room. He initially landed on the bed and bounced off to land in the corner.

A deep, protective roar erupted from your chest and something happened that you dreaded for most of your life. Your eyes were glowing. Your eyes didn't shine a normal golden color. They glowed like a broken mixture between crimson and ogate from an unspeakable past trauma.

"What the hell are you?" He asks as your eyes restore to normal. "Baby," he adds, his features softened. "Stay away from me. And stay away from my pup." You threaten, before sliding on your shoes and walking out the door. You wave down a taxi who drives you back to your house.

"Hey, I stopped by your job and saw you- Y/N, are you okay?" Your mom asks as her eyes settle on your trembling frame. "He found out." You croak, she motions you to sit on the couch and you comply. "He found out about the baby?" She asks. "He found out," you repeat, watching as she realizes what you really meant.

"He saw your eyes?" She asks with disbelief. "He tried to forcefully claim me and I bellowed at him to protect my pup." "What are you going to do? Do you want to leave?" She asks, running a comforting hand down your arm. "I have no idea, Mom. I don't get it. I thought I wasn't able to get pregnant."

"This is a blessing, honey." She says and you shake your head. "It would have been a blessing if the father was a decent human being, but he's not, Mom. He treats me.." you trail off and your mother purrs sadly, resting your face on the sides of hers. "He's a terrible person, Mom. But I need him and I fucking hate it."

"I know, honey. We don't need to figure everything out right now. Take a deep breath." You take a deep breath and a series of sobs escape your lips. You're screwed and everyone knows it.

**

Ransom bounces his leg nervously in his Beemer as he parks outside of Y/N's house. He could smell her, she's in deress and she's feeling an immense amount of sadness. He doesn't even know what he's doing there. It's not like his presence would help anything. She hated him and he doesn't blame her.

He would always call you names and insult your intelligence to keep you rilde up so he wouldn't know how it was to be loved by you. He started to fall for you when you would talk back against his misogynistic tendencies. He loved how your nose crinkled just before you were about to snap on him.

You have guts and you stood your ground, regardless if you were an omega or not. He respected that about you. But now he wanted to show you that he was willing to change for you and that he treated you like shit because he was scared of what your love could to him.

But he knew you. You would tell him to fuck off and leave because that is what he was good at. He had a plan to get you to trust him, but if that doesn't work. He has no idea what to do with himself. With a deep breath, he hops out of his Beemer and stalks towards the front door.

He knocks firmly and he heard footsteps ascending to the door. His heart races in his chest but he swallows it down. The door opens and he meets the gaze of a very angry mother. "How dare you come here?" "I need to see her," "I think you've done enough."

"She's carrying my pup, I can't just leave her." Ransom's explains, desperate to be given the benefit of the doubt. "I've heard terrible stories about you. You trust fund, prick. My daughter made a mistake and I'm sure she'll learn from it without your help." She snaps.

"Did she say that?" "She did," "You're a terrible liar. Just like your daughter." He sighs when she growls defensively at him. "What happened to her? To her eyes?" He asks. "Please, I want to be in her life. She makes my heart tingle and that scares the hell out of me, so I tried to push her away by.."

"By treating her like trash. You have no idea how to deal with women, do you?" She asks and he shakes his with defeat.

"Come in," she says with a sigh. Ransom walks into the house much smaller than he's used to. That's what a family house looks like. The entire living room is the size of his walk in closet. But he understands why Y/N would call it home. "Stay here, I'll be right back." Y/N's mom says before disappearing down the hall.

He sits down on the side of the couch where your scent is the strongest. His eyes fall to the shut door closest to the kitchen. Your scent dripped from the room and it took everything in him not to burst in there and pull you into his arms.

Y/N's mom returns with a thin stack of newspapers. The looked to be a few years old by the font and the faded lettering in some places. The newspaper crinkles in his hands as he read the headline on the first page.

HUMAN TRAFFICKING VICTIM FOUND AFTER 7 YEARS. Below the headline was a picture of a young girl with bruises litering her face as she pulled the blanket close to her.

The most heart wrenching part about the picture was how hollow her eyes looked. It was like looking into a dark tunnel with no light at the end of it. Whatever she experienced ruined whatever childhood she had left. Ransom's eyes scan over the article and flipped through the rest of the pages, growing angrier the more he read.

"How long ago was this?" Ransom asks. "Five years ago. She was twelve when she was taken." Ransom shakes his head with disbelief and sets the newspaper on the table in front of him. "Can I see her, please?" He asks desperately.

"She hasn't moved since she came back from your house a week ago. She barely talks and eats. Hopefully you have better luck than I do." She says, motioning for the door.

Ransom stands up and opens the door within a few strides. Goosebumps littered his skin when he inhales Y/N's miserable musk. Tears threatened his eyes but he wiped them away quickly. She already been through hell and Ransom made it worse by treating her the way he was. She deserved better than him.

"Y/N?" Ransom starts but Y/N doesn't move a muscle. Her bed covers were draped over her entire body, leaving a small opening above her head so she could breathe. Her breathing was barely audible, she could easily be mistaken as dead. The room was dim from the closed curtain and lack of light.

Not knowing what to say, he decides he was going to stay there with her. Maybe.. hopefully.. his prescence is enough to comfort her because he has no idea how to do that as he was never comforted as a child. He was just told to suck it up and stop being a baby. He's a Drysdale. And Drysdale's aren't weak.

He shrugs off his peacoat and pulled off his cable knit sweater. He stepped a little closer to admire her nest but notice the lack of his scent. He drapes his cable knit over the headboard of her bed. Not wanting to push his luck, he walked away from the bed and slid down the wall a distance away from you.

He smiles when he hears you purr softly in your sleep as you notice his scent. "Baby, I'm going to stay here with you, if that's okay." Ransom says and you continued to purr. Guess that wasn't a terrible sign.

Later that night, Ransom left your house to grab a week's worth of clothes plus an assortment of clothes you could add to her you. You still haven't said anything but your vile scent of shame and sadness has lessened.

When Ransom came back, Y/N's mom offered him the guest room but Ransom claimed it was too far from her. So she pumped up an air mattress for him. He's spent every day in the room with Y/N without saying a word. One day, Ransom came back with sushi for lunch to see you out of bed.

You froze when you saw him down the hallway after closing the door to the bathroom. "You came back earlier than I expected," you say and a sigh of relief leaves his lips. You both stay in your spots and stare at each other, waiting for someone to make the first move.

"I'm not good at comforting people. But I am good at telling people what I know. And I know that I feel like absolutely shit for how I treated you. And I know what happened to you when you were younger. Why your eyes are the way they are." He starts. "The fact that you can stand up for other people despite your past makes you strong. A strong mate and a strong mother." He adds.

He sets the sushi on the counter and you shove your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants. "We're not meant to be parents, Ransom. This could be the worst thing that could happen to us." She explains. "Or the best thing. I don't know about you, but I've been looking for a change. And then I met you and that was the change I was looking for." He explains.

You eye him suspiciously, unsure of where this verbal affection came from. "Why are you saying these things? Did my mom put you up to this? I told her I would be fine." You say, walking down the hall and into your room. "She didn't put me up to this. And no, you're not fine." He says, leaning against your door frame.

"Baby, we're in this together." "I don't trust it. I don't trust you. I've seen what you're capable of and the way you treat people. And I will be damned if I let you treat my pup like that."

"Your pup?" "My pup," you repeat, placing a hand on your stomach. His gaze falls on your stomach and he nods to himself like he's making a decision in his mind.

"Mark me," he says, taking off his pea coat, cable knit sweater and tank top underneath that. He sets on the air mattress and nears you slowly. "What? No." "I'll honor the bond. I'll be yours and only yours. I won't mark you unless you want me to. Just please, mark me."

"This is insane," you start and takes your hand to place on his cheek. He inhales the scent of your pulse point on your wrist before placing your hand on his mating gland. You shake your head no and he sits down, pulling you into his lap and burying your face into his neck.

Your inner omega takes over and you wrap your arms around his neck. "Alpha," you whimper. "Oh, omega. I'm so sorry, baby." He whispers. He stares up at the ceiling as he tries to hold back his tears but it was no use. He always thought that he was fucked up because Linda never showed him any affection as a kid.

But to hear about what you experienced as a kid. The fact that you had nothing and you had your will and autonomy stripped from you. Ransom's autonomy was the only thing he felt like he truly had. He rubbed circles on your neck and you sigh into his. He learned that from a Google search he did but you didn't know that.

You pull away from his neck and cupped his cheeks, pressing a warm kiss on his soft lips. You were desperate for each other's touch, but it wasn't in a sexual way.

It was more like a tending to an internal scratch. Your eyes fluttered closed and he lifted your chin to deepen the kiss. Your tear stained cheeks rubbed against his and his tongue swiped against your lip, begging for access.

You glady give him the access he needed and his happy hummed vibrated your chest. He pulled away slowly and held you gaze before exposing his neck to you. You couldn't believe your eyes. The Ransom Drysdale was exposing his neck to you. Submitting to you. Maybe he wasn't bluffing after all.

You ghost your fingers over his mating gland and he sighs at the touch. You look to him and he nods, encouraging you to continue. Your tongue darted out to moisturize your dry lips and press a kiss to the sensitive skin. You purr as you inhale his musk of honey and crackers, his favorite childhood snack.

."Y/N, please." Giving him one last look before sinking your teeth into his neck, his mouth falls open and you bite down harder until you could taste the metallic drops of his blood.

You lick away the droplets of blood escaping the wound before pulling away. You lick away the blood from your lips and expose your neck to him but he gripped your chin and shook his head.

"You have to want it." He says sincerely. You barely recognize the Ransom in front of you. His ogate eyes dilate as they met your Y/E/C eyes. And in that moment you realize that Ransom was just as broken as you were. He truly was yours.

[janghoefett]

Good Vibrations (Din Djarin x Reader)

Rating: Explicit (18+) Pairing: F/M Word count: 1.8k

Summary: You have a good old sexy time with the Mandalorian after breaking in your new lingerie. That's it, that's the plot.

Warnings: Big Meat Mando, rough sex, vaginal sex, fingering, fluff, ok you bleed a bit. All that love shit.

Originally posted on AO3 (and recently reworked)

“Stay in the ship. Turn on all lockdown and safety protocols.” That’s all Din would say before going on the hunt for his next bounty when he felt there was danger.

Under any other circumstances, you would be disappointed that he would expect you to stay home and twiddle your thumbs like his loyal housewife. But you saw the cast of characters he would often deal with, and considering you had little to no experience with combat, it made no sense for you to leave the ship and be a distraction. Din would not be able to focus if he felt you were in danger. Hell, you didn’t want to be in danger either. So you obliged.

You worried about him while he was out there. The first time he was away you would sit and sulk, but that gave you too much time to think. The next time you cleaned the entire ship from top to bottom. Eventually, you started having your fun.

On one of your more recent pit stops, you had picked out the most beautiful, sheer black nightgown that was short enough to cover only the bare essentials. You hadn’t worn it yet, and tonight was going to be its big debut. Din was a sucker for seeing you all done up and you wanted him to burst when he saw you.

With nothing better to do, you take your time getting ready. You bathe for while, do your hair, rub a little lotion all over. You even spritz a little of that perfume in all the places you knew he liked, too. And finally, you slip into your new lingerie.

Wow. You admire your own appearance in the tarnished mirror, adjusting everything until it was just right. Din was going to absolutely lose it.

Tonight you wanted something really special with Din. He was your first time, your first and only love, and you had been feeling an incredible amount of trust budding inside of you. In bed, he was only gentle and caring contrary to his Mandalorian persona. While you still couldn't see his face, that didn't matter; the only place you wanted to be was in his arms, in his bed.

You hear Din coming in just as you finish, so you run to his bed, fluffing your hair and spreading out. “Cyar’ika?” he calls in Mando’a. You don’t answer. Instead, you lie out on display for him practically quivering with anticipation. Din calls once more with a hint of concern, his footsteps drawing nearer, until finally he stops at the doorway. His armored body inhales, stiffening as he takes you in.

“Hi,” you smile. Your cheeks flush with excitement as a giddy grin overtakes your face.

His helmet tilts to the side, examining the scene in front of him before approaching you slowly. “What’s this?” rasps the Mandalorian. Your heart stops for a moment in fear that you had done something wrong or that he was disappointed. “You know you can’t play games like this and expect me to go easy on you,” he finally taunts, dragging you towards him gently by the ankles to the edge of the bed and using his hips to keep your knees apart.

You laugh softly, pleased with your success. “I wasn’t hoping for easy this time.”

The Mandalorian begins peeling his gloves off and leans over you to stroke your cheek, smirking at the way your body responds to him. “Are you saying you want me to fuck you?” he asks, his voice low and raspy. You nod with wide eyes. “If I do anything you don’t like, you tell me right away. Understood?”

With your confirmation, Din reaches a hand down to massage what is exposed between your legs. You throw your head back in pleasure against the bed and intuitively spread your legs farther while his free hand rests on your knee, keeping you locked down. His fingertips brush along your slit, before working in two thick fingers.

Your hips move against Din's large working fingers, your mouth agape. The Mandalorian knows what he is doing and you know you can come on his hand if you’re not careful. His thumb remains on your clit, massaging gently, while his index and middle fingers curl upwards into your wall over and over. Stars, this man knew how to make you shake. Your legs start to quiver and your knees buckle inwards in an attempt to ease off on the pressure.

“Don’t you dare close those legs,” he snaps, using his hands to keep them apart. You whimper, clutching his free hand with yours, and continue to ride the sensation.

“Din…” you whine. “I’m… I’m getting close.”

“Come on my hand,” he growls. “Come on.” Your body obeys almost instantly, clenching around his fingers and riding a surprisingly hard orgasm. His fingers continue to fuck you through your high and withdraw only when your body goes limp. “Good girl,” he praises, giving your pussy one last soothing massage.

As you catch your breath, Din’s reaches down to release his throbbing cock from his pants in all its impossibly thick, veiny glory. Damn, it was always hard to take him but you loved it. You bite your lip in anticipation, keeping your legs spread.

You had a thing for Din in his full armor; he was an intimidating figure and the sight of him stroking his cock between your legs made you whimper. Your lover's strong arms link under your legs, and with a push, he sinks into you slowly. Though you were already more than lubricated, your body still presents resistance and you close your eyes in an attempt to relax your muscles. "Din..." you squeak, reaching for his hands on your legs.

“That’s it… relax, cyar'ika,” he whispers. "You're so tight for me."

Keeping you on the edge of the bed, Din begins deep and thorough thrusts. He’s slow, ensuring your comfort, before establishing a quicker rhythm. A wave of satisfaction washes over you at the feeling of having him within you at last. You lie beneath him taking every thrust, whining your unintelligible encouragement and pleas.

The position is different, in a welcome way, though it leaves something to be desired. Your hands reach up to him, clawing at his stomach when suddenly he leans over, running a hand up your nightgown. “I need to feel you, cyar’ika,” he pants. You knew what he meant; he needed to lose his armor.

Reaching within a pocket, he pulls out a long strip of cloth and fastens it behind your head with your permission. You were no stranger to the blindfold. It was the only solution for Din to take off his helmet, and you actually grew accustomed to it. Blinded, you listen for the subsequent clangs of his beskar as it drops to the floor. Din crawls onto the bed and guides you into his lap, using his broad shoulders as support to straddle him, while he lifts your nightgown over your head.

You lower yourself onto his length once more, gasping at the new sensations this position brings. Din brings his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, grabbing a fistful of your hair, cherishing a perfect moment of being truly together. “Fuck me, Din,” you purr against him, biting his lower lip softly. His hands grasp the plump flesh of your bottom as you begin to move up and down on him yourself. His thrusts meet yours and he lays back, letting you take control.

Your hips meet in frantic thrusts as you ride him. You come down on his thick length hard and fast, over and over again, almost in a trance as the pleasure mixes with the pain. He was just so big and you coudn't get enough. Din’s hands dig into the soft flesh at your hips as he thrusts upwards to meet your rhythm. It hurt, you knew it did, but it was also so intensely satisfying to focus on yourself and on using your body to pleasure his. Your moans and cries fill the air in unison, desperately building towards a finish, when suddenly a new pain becomes unbearable.

“Din, stop!” you gasp.

“Are you okay?” he pants with worry. His cock throbs inside of you, almost unbearable not to move. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Something just… it was too much, I don’t know,” you wince.

“Ok. Just relax now,” he soothes, pulling out with care. “You’re... you're bleeding, cyar'ika.”

“I am?!” Din sits up and places his helmet back on before removing your blindfold for you to see. It’s not much, but you hadn’t bled since your first time with him. Din takes your face in his hands to make you look back up at him.

“Baby, it’s okay. You’re not used to this,” he reminds you, brushing a lock of hair out of your face. “That was really rough, and I don't like hurting you. We can slow down.”

You nod, allowing him to refasten the blindfold, and lay beside him on your back. Din removes his helmet and moves over you, planting an earnest kiss on your lips. "Ready to try again, sweet girl?" he asks.

With your permission, Din enters you with utmost caution. "Shh..." he coos, planting sweet kisses on your cheek. “Is this better?”.

“Yeah… this is.” Your arms wrap around him, pulling him close. His new thrusts are tentative, experimental. “Oh, Din,” you sigh.

“I love you,” he breathes between kisses. You smile at the intimacy of the moment and moan softly at the gentle movements of his hips. “Was I too rough?” he asks.

“No, no it felt good,” you respond, stroking his hair. “This feels good too… I miss you when you’re away.”

As if to make his absence up to you, he locks his lips onto yours as his gentle motions continue. Your moans and grunts become louder and more frequent as your orgasms grew nearer. “Come inside of me,” you breathe, grasping Din's face. His thrusts become more erratic, spurring you onto your finish. “Din!” you cry. He follows soon after while your legs shake, spurting hot ropes of his seed deep inside of you.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he whispers, breathing heavily. “That thing looks good on you."

"I hoped you’d like it,” you smile.

Din pulls out slowly and falls to your side, bringing you into his chest.

“Thank you for stopping when I asked,” you whisper. “I’m sorry."

"That is not something you thank me for. I never want to hurt you, cyar’ika.”

You stroke the stubble on his cheek, almost overwhelmed by the emotions he made you feel. “I love you, Din.”

The Mandalorian plants a lingering kiss on your forehead. “I love you more, cyar'ika. ”

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

Because, it's you and me

Prompt- dancing with each other | ANGST | HURT COMFORT ( mostly hurt ) | TW- death | "When the time comes, you have to let go and when you let go, know you're not alone, because it's you and me" | lyrics used- nothing by Bruno Mars

I've written plenty marriage related danced and recently wrote a masquerade dance. I promise this will be the last dance prompt I write for a while. Here's something entirely different. I am slightly proud of this.

" hey love, I've picked up the groceries like you said, let me know if there's something you need. Love you" beep beep....

" uncle harry ?"

Harry aligned on the chair better as he saw teddy walk in with a little bag.

" how are you doing Today ?" He asked cheerfully as he sat down in front of harry on the chair preserves for him

"you ask this everyday and I'm doing fine teddy " harry chuckled huskily

" well as your very beloved godson, I have the right to ask" teddy smiled as he adjusted the radio set and put on the new tape.

" you're more than just my godson teddy and you know that " harry groaned as he picked up his legs and with much effort put them over the little stool

" I know, uncle harry " teddy smiled and he finally pulled out the paperworks

" you know we can do this anyday- I mean there's no rush " teddy awkwardly said as he strange fear settled into his heart

" I know dear. But it's about time I did this " harry smiled. Sadly yet willingly teddy took out his pens and the papers, reading out to harry, taking suggestions and making harry sign the same.

" you'll visit right ?" Harry gauntingly asked

" uncle harry- don't say that " teddy sadly frowned

" will you ?" Harry persisted

Teddy sighed, leaning down to press a kiss on Harry's forehead " of course. And I know Albus and scorpius will too" teddy assured cupping his face

" you remind me a lot of your father teddy. I miss him, even after all this time" harry sighed

" you are like my dad uncle harry, I might've never known my dad but you've been my dad and I wouldn't switch it for the world- well I mean I would've liked to know him but you know what I mean. You were the closest thing to a family for me and I don't regret it "

Harry smiled " we've raised you right"

" without a doubt "

" shall I leave the song on then ?" Teddy finally asked as his time' came to leave

" leave it on " harry rested his head against the arm chair closing his eyes and falling into little world of his memories.

" harry- come on- hey- look at me- look in my eyes and Just let your body flow " draco chuckled

" but if I look at you, then my legs wouldn't work fine. Coordination would be absurd draco. What kind of shit advice is that " harry rolled his eyes, still staring at his feets

" trust me harry. Just look at me and you'll be fine. Everything will be fine harry. It's you and me " draco smiled fondly. Harry sighed as he looked into draco's eyes and let his body flow to the music as they danced away.

" see, it's that easy. It's always easy-"

" because it's you and me " harry completed his sentence. Draco smiled at him, pressing a small kiss over his lips.

" because it's you and me " draco repeated, and he twirled harry around, breaking into little laughter in their own little paradise.

________________________________

" the blood sugar is considerably better, other reports also seem fine of course. Its mostly a fit report. Any problems and you know you have to report me immediately " the doctor smiled

" that's good then " harry struggled shifting backwards into the chair

" how long do you say ?"harry asked

" I- we can't predict that. But if this is how things are going to be, another 6 months maybe " she smiled sadly

Harry nodded, finally standing up, getting hold of his walking stick and letting himself out after bidding goodbye.

Like every other day, harry picked up some fruits from the market, visited Ron and Hermione, laughing at some old memories, going back home, reading the newspaper, cooking for himself, taking a shower, reading for another hour, sleeping for longer duration and finally would arrive evening that he'd spend away listening to old songs, checking his health, watching TV, making dinner for himself, and then go to bed.

Like every night, harry laid on the bed, wide eyed, picking up his phone and scrolling through until he Landed upon just the ones.

" honey, can you bring the monstera plant from the nursery, ours unfortunately died. love you" beep

" hey, love, I've told Albus and scorpius you're running a bit late, but try to reach here faster, if you can, we don't wanna upset them. Love you "

" hey love, I've picked up the groceries like you said, let me know if you need something. Love you "

" is- is this Working- oh it is. Hey, Darling, where the hell even are you ? It's our fucking anniversary and I maybe old but I'd still chop your penis off if- oh never mind, there you are. Wow you look still not a day old, still elegant as ever. Anyways- who you're talking to draco- love you, harry " beep

Beep... Beep..

Harry allowed a little tear to trickle down his face, playing with the ring on his finger as he remembered old days of his life passing away . He wouldn't change it for the world. He'd had everything he needed, and now he was done. He'd lived to see another day everyday, but now he just waited for another day where he won't be.

" Track suits and red wine " harry Sang lowly to himself just like they used to before

"Movies for two"

" We'll take off our phones "

" And we'll turn off our shoes "

He breathed heavily as he wiped off a single tear, still humming

" We're not making out"

"On a boat in the rain"

" Or in a house I've painted blue "

And slowly and slowly it faded until his eyes closed.

" hi harry " he whispered as he appeared in White

" d- draco- what- what are you doing here ?" Harry frowned

" it's time, babe, it has come. I'll be waiting " and he faded into the whites again with his own preserved little smile only for harry and that little dream came to an end, just like a breath.

________________________________

" yo- I can't believe you bought his radio" victoria sobbed as she leaned over his husband's shoulder, teddy.

" I know he'll need it " teddy sobbed lightly, placing it over the little engraved stones.

Scorpius broke into sobs as he hugged Albus, violently" I can't- "

" it's going to be alright " Albus replied heavily

" shall I ?" Teddy asked everyone as he sniffled wiping away his own tears with a handkerchief, getting hold of his wife's hand.

" Who needs stars?

We've got a roof

But there's nothing

Like doing nothing

With you "

The radio faded, the voice slightly branching into little audio of harry and draco of them talking and giggling from the day of their children's weddings.

" I can't believe he bought this " harry whispered, holding draco's hands.

" I can't believe you didn't know he'll bring it " Draco chuckled as they watched their kids, holding hands with each other's and placing flowers.

" we've raised them right, haven't we ?" Harry smiled fondly at draco

" we have " draco smiled

" do you think they'll be alright ?" Harry asked , slightly worried for their kids.

" I think they'll be fine " draco smiled.

They sat their for Long hours watching their kids, sitting their ideally crying In their memories, sometimes even cracking little jokes, sharing memories until the night came in and they all slowly reluctantly started leaving.

" but there's nothing" draco hummed as he danced away on top of stones with harry

" like doing nothing " harry hummed doing the same

" with you "they hummed collectively as the song finally ended and teddy packed the radio up.

" we'll miss you. You're finally with draco. Rest in peace uncle harry. To the moon and back.. " teddy whispered and with a single large tear, he walked away.

" it's finally you and me " draco whispered when everything finally went silent.

" it'll be fine " draco reassured

" because it's you and me "

" because it's you and me " and they cherished in a little kiss.

I really hope you liked this. Thank you for the incredible support In the last few days..

Requests open

Day 47- stupid Teenage crush | Day 49- 5 times Harry was a pain in the ass until he wasn't

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S5 Ep 19: Yugi and the Only Neck Accessory He Didn’t Really Want to Wear

Been busy! Hopefully stuff will open up soon as I’m taking a hiatus on a different quarantine project and will be finishing painting the entire roof of my car this week? One can hope. Sanding the rust off the whole top of a car takes a long time it turns out?

Also, fun Yugioh fact, I recently painted a book cover for an author who is older so she’s never seen the show, and she looked at my tumblr, saw my Duke Devlin fanart and was like “That’s him. That’s my main character. OMG. You captured him perfectly!” and I was like “Ma’am that is Duke Devlin, hence the single dice earring on his lobes there, but we can work with this.” and now a spiritual Duke Devlin is on the cover of a Wuxia-style fantasy trilogy on the Vella. Had to give him a top knot and delete the eyeliner for Wuxia reasons but uh, that’s just Duke.

So long story short, fanart can get you work, don’t even worry about posting that stuff online because most people don’t even know it’s fanart anyway and older ladies freakin love it.

Back in Yugioh, the team was doing their best to navigate a map through the woods and they do about as well as they normally do.

And inside Tristan lifted up the floorboards and was like “I found the only way out, this is it, this is the only way.”

And they ended up in something that has a color scheme I would actually associate with a jungle. Finally. We have finally left California (in order to go to another Hell.)

Youknow, when we went to California, we visited Hell, and when we went to India, we also took a stop at the nearest death destination. There’s just so much death on this show and sometimes I forget because there’s been a ghost in our party for so freakin long it’s been normalized.

(read more death imagery under the cut)

Joey freaks out at a flock of crows and reveals in this episode something I never realized about him before.

Like I’m not always the perfect observer as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I love that this is canon for probably only this episode, but I will never forget it for the entirety of this series.

You go on hating birds, Joey.

Bro was like “Maybe it’s a deep cut about Mai Valentine because she’s a harpy lady” but eh...pretty sure we spent like an entire season of Joey telling us that Mai was a good experience? Would be incredibly funny if immediately after all of S4, Joey was like “You know what? Screw Mai, guys.”

So my thoughts...it’s probably just a literal bird experience. Like I had a friend who hated deer because once she went to a petting zoo, got some pellets to feed the deer, but her finger was sticking up, so when the deer came over to nibble on some pellets her finger went up it’s nose by accident. She was so disgusted by this event that was entirely her fault, that she brought up how much she hated deer basically whenever we saw one.

So like...maybe Joey fed a bird wrong at a petting zoo. I can see him getting bit by a parrot because he was too Joey Wheeler.

But now that we’re in a graveyard neighborhood, Pharaoh decides to hop out because there’s a lot of ghosts here and he needs to practice socializing with his peers.

So that’s just a Yugioh monster doing the ostrich dance, right? Like this is a meme from like 2010 but on Yugioh in 2003(4?)

Good to see the Ostrich dance here in the land before Vine.

So they pull out their Pokemon to do some antics, Tea looked like she was about to do something useful, and Yami does a yump across time and space to get her as far away from playing (not)cards as quickly as possible and y’all...sure was a position these animators animated.

Holy crap.

And I was going off about that scene last season where they woke up in the same bed like...

...have these two been together this entire time? Like together together?

They’re like...way more comfortable than you’d figure they’d be considering Yugi nearly passes out every time he gets a hug. But Yami just like....How long has this been going on? As long as Joey’s fear of birds?

Like obviously this show would never cover what the hell Yugi may be thinking about this overreaching move here, because we’re gonna gloss right over that, and just run away up a flight of stairs. No one mentions this ever again. Which is mind blowing for an anime to do. I think in most anime I watch, the kids would be like “ahh ahhhh I bumped into a booooob!” like it does for I want to say every other episode of My Hero Academia. But in Yugioh, they saw that low hanging fruit and they were like “we expect a higher level of maturity out of our audience. Now here’s a fleet of ostrich dancing tree monsters with faces for crotches.”

They decided to sprint up this flight of stairs, and it enough of a slope to deter the monsters who are only unbalanced weird legs.

I want us to take a moment and admire this background painting. I can’t unsee the rocks that are all the same size, just piled on top of eachother. Did Alexander the Great just plop rocks here--or was the mountain made up of tons of similarly shaped boulders?

Like there’s a lot of nice bg’s in this arc, don’t get me wrong, but this one...I’m just trying to wrap my head around the logic of it.

At the top, they meet a pantheon, that is immediately blocked by this wall, because if this arc had a tagline, it’s “Yugi gets inconvenienced every 4 seconds.”

Bro was like “Clearly they would have pushed it over if Tea wasn’t slacking off” and like...she is actually. Look at her. Only used one hand? Slacker.

Joey was disappointed he couldn’t push over a massive wall, and the team decided not to analyze how much Joey Wheeler thinks of his own strength and instead fixate on these statues.

Usually in anthro characters they kinda look birdlike but act human. But what about an anthro that’s just a bird? Like human torso, but can turn his head 180 degrees? Yugioh made me ask this question.

And then Joey was like “wait, there may be a solution that isn’t just to use brute strength!”

Youknow it is a bummer that Kaiba couldn’t witness Joey own a dragon while he himself only has a robot jet dragon. Although, the jet is probably faster, stronger and overall...better than this baby dragon. It would have been great for Kaiba to witness Joey under-utilize this dragon and forget he has it for like huge swatches of the episode.

And then Grandpa pulled some body horror out of nowhere.

Wow.

I mean that is really gross.

I guess Grandpa can’t use Blue eyes, because Kaiba ripped it up, Grandpa can’t use Exodia because Weevil tossed it off a boat, and grandpa can’t use the card that’s just a building because...it’s a building.

So instead Grandpa has a bunch of meat and bones that look like something out of Doom. It’s probably from a more obscure Konami property, but I forget which.

I’ve seen Tristan hold back Joey in this hold, first time it’s been Tea.

So much shipping in this episode, it’s wild.

It’s also wild how low my standards are for what could possibly be shipping when it comes to Yugioh because of how freakin tepid all of these characters are, which as I’ve brought up before, I really don’t mind.

So Yugi decides that because Grandpa was folding his arms like one monster and it made a gem light up or something, to just do the video game thing and use the giant ass statues as clues.

Why was this arc not a video game? Like parts of it really feel like it was meant to be.

So Yugi falls down a hole, where the walls cave in like it’s that dumpster in Star Wars but like...it barely phases him.

Also...Yugi might be able to see in the dark. It’s never been brought up but like...the more I think about it...has Yugi ever struggled to see without the lights on?

After Joey disappoints everyone, he confronts death.

And Pharaoh and Yugi decide to solve the puzzle of “how do I get out of this trap dungeon room” which, honestly, is probably what they’re doing every time they hang out in the brain pyramid.

So they summon their mascot monster, and surprisingly the show decided its ability to fly cannot help them out here.

Kuriboh manages to become enough of a doormat to push Yami up to the stone and they end up in a set of weird cuts that ended in this?

Like seriously it was like flashes of light and then they were just...up here like this.

Hey like...

Alexander the Great, my man...

Were you planning to put that stone in the middle of a exhaust vent hoping someone would touch it? Because there’s no way anyone would rationally have done that. You would need to fly to do it. This is the world’s worst DM.

Like Yugioh pulls a lot of fantasy nonsense but this arc is a lot more like a “it’s a kid’s show, just go with it.” arc than most of them. It’s not a bad vibe, necessarily, it’s just not the vibe I’m used to.

So once I witnessed maybe the most boring conversation I’ve ever witnessed about corn (this was on a twitch stream, by the way, a guy was playing an interesting game, and then a guest came on and started talking about corn and plants for 2 hours) and they would not shut up about how all taxonomy is wrong because there are no such thing as trees and how all animals are labelled incorrectly, and then they started comparing it to like all sorts of mushrooms and phytoplankton as you would if you clearly got a little bit high before dumping your corn knowledge on a twitch stream.

Anyway, after that bizarre experience I suffered so I could learn how to play an obscure video game, I think I can safely say, that while I know everyone here thinks a bird can’t be a dog. If you’re a high biologist: a bird is absolutely a dog. Apparently you can just do that if you’re the most boring biologist alive and no one will argue with you because to do that would involve talking to you. We’ll just say a bird is a dog and no one can fight me or I will talk about the corn book that this guest on this twitch chat was thinking about renting from the library about the different types of corn mutations inherent in freakin Indiana. Therefore, Joey’s fear of birds and dogs is same.

So they use Dark Magician to save them from the statues, and Yugi busts into the pantheon again because they got to open this casket before a time limit that I kind of forgot about, tbh.

And inside the casket, is...this thing!

(enjoy this line on the bottom of the image I don’t feel like fixing it)

And you may say to yourself...it looks like it’s just floating in mid-air, that’s silly, and so I want to introduce you to the next panel where you can see that it is...quite literally...just floating in the air like a video game.

and it just slurps itself onto Yugi before he can be like “nonono.”

Wasn’t there some horror movie where you were stuck in some sort of body brace that slowly tortures you (was that Saw?) This has that vibes. Like man that looks uncomfortable to wear over a jacket and two belts and a collar that is another belt.

That and I...I gotta appreciate that Yugi popped his collar while wearing body armor and chunky necklace. What 00′s fashion appreciation right there.

Bit like...this isn’t breathable, right? Like Yugi’s gonna finally take this thing off and his jacket will just be completely soaked in sweat?

Anyway, that’s it for this post, next week we’ll see if Yugi can walk through a doorway in that thing.

Also, I can’t bring up the ostrich dance without sharing the vines of my generation

[fandomfiish]

Thominho || End of the World Song recommendation: As the world caves in x cancer by clem turner @its-tea-time-darling @thominho-incorrectquotes @graeae hehe~ ░░▓░░░░▓░░░░▓░░░░▓░░░▓░░ mournful cries for something that was not yet lost had dulled.

minho could still spot crowds below the hill, he imagined the silent wonder as they stare at the sky, waiting, huddling with strangers. striking conversations that would soon not even remain a memory. drinking up everything they could ever take, everything undiscovered. he would've remained somewhere else if it weren't for thomas. he remembers watching it from the news, it didn't even feel real at that time, even when that panic start rising up his throat.

"when it happens,"

thomas static voice mumbled over the phone.

"will you be with me?"

they never knew when it will happen, no time frame was given. just soon. all everyone could hope was that soon was enough to say their goodbyes, that soon enough to be able to be content of their own lives, that soon enough to cope. he watched in the first few minutes, the chaos unraveling right outside his window. his feet planted in his recently cleaned room, resisting the urge to go outside and run, to do something he once loved to do in his final moments, to run and exhaust himself waiting for death itself to envelop him to eternal rest. but he couldn't. there were notations and notes scattered in his head. quiet questions, head-shakes, and I told you so’s. all the things he’d said he would do when the time was right.

he glanced at the unopened box the size of his palm, the what if's surrounding the said item disappearing as the news reached his ears.

all of it morphed into black nothingness. until minho saw him. looking out of a window too from the complex across, watching it all fall to shit right outside, there was a glimpse of hope, of innocence, of endlessness. if only a little. he realized that, even in a dark and inevitable moment like this, he can want. that it’s possible for him to love while everything he once knew crumbled.

minho with a blanket on his arms headed to their meeting place. he had called a few people, the important ones anyway.

"we're heading to the park, said they were holding an event there. newt explained

"who's coming?" the line went silent for a few seconds, as the only thing he heard were footsteps.

"me, gally, ben, frypan, winston, clint, hell even teresa and brenda are here." minho couldn't help the smile appearing his lips as he heard their names.

"how is chuck handling it?" the line went silent again, longer than the first one.

"as great as a bloody kid could handle it, though he was happy that he could join us this time" a cheer sounded from Newts side of the call.

"what about you?"

minho arrived on the top of the hill, surprisingly there we no one else there, the others must've preferred being below the hill.

"i'm meeting with thomas."

"of course you bloody are." newt said, mimicking their normal bickering.

then it was silent, just the sound of footsteps and the wind, many unspoken words treading on them. "this is really it, huh?" newt whispered.

"this is it."

minho could feel something creeping up his throat, it would take his breath if he lets it free. "thank you, minho."

they could pry, open up but ... this was enough.

"thank you."

and the call ended.

minho finally arrived at their meeting place, and he let himself stare at the road below, it was packed although there was no movement. they must've gave up and abandoned their cars and sit on the sidewalks with the rest. what-ifs lingering in the air. it was a beautiful sight, even with the context of why.

"minho, over here!"

the sun was setting, an orange glow radiated from thomas like he was otherwordly. he was crouched next to a lone oak tree, dirt staining his knees as he dragged a finger across a leaf. "surprised you didn't run to get here." thomas said.

"nah, don't wanna run right now"

thomas nodded, his hugging his knees closer. "do you think flowers will grow under this tree?"

every time they meet here, thomas never fails to ask that question.

minho reply was always the same 'who knows, only time will tell.' but right now it's different.

his friend's eyes fluttered on the ground as he shrugged, "i dunno, it's doesn't matter much now, does it?"

thomas forced himself to grin, "maybe, but he might like the company anyway"

"minho?" thomas asked suddenly, "are you alright?"

it felt odd, talking to thomas like this. they were always playful and it was rare for one them to leave an opening for something deeper. the question couldn't be brushed away easily this time. it seemed the tears had come, washed over his eyes and gathered on the soil below. "not really." his voice shook.

thomas patted the ground next to him. minho sat down, ruining his new blue jeans in the process, the blanket in his bag long forgotten. "i guess i thought this wasn't a situation i needed to plan around ... i thought i had time but i wasted it all."

it was silent for a second before thomas spoke up, "you know what i've been thinking? in retrospect, everything i've done is lackluster and once i'm gone, it goes with me. but i think that's the point, the experience. even though compared to others i didn't achieve much, there were people that made it special. something had to lead up to it all, didn't it?"

he turned to minho before continuing, "for example, you ... i know i don't show it often but ... you are a pretty incredible instance in my world." he concluded.

"is that what you were telling the tree?" he joked as thomas slapped his arm.

"you know i'm not good at these things! ... i had to practice."

after the laughter died down, they bathed in the earthly slumber their city below resembled. the seconds before sleep where you let the unknown beckon you into the darkness. no more shouting, no more car horns blaring, just the rise and fall of chests. trees swayed slowly in the breeze as sunlight began to wane till it gave way to the moon.

then there was a hum, it started as weightless as the wind, until it picked up into a chorus of people singing. the corners of thomas’s mouth flicked up. minho couldn't help but follow the action. it was hard to clearly make out the words but it was a melody anyone would recognize. thomas began to sing along, minho let himself have this moment. glancing at him. all of the voices coming as one, it had him thinking, maybe the world wasn't as far apart as he'd once thought. "you should sing too." thomas suggested, beaming.

"you know i can't." minho shook his head.

"wow, you're going to lie even when a black hole is waiting to swallow us up."

minho opened his mouth to respond but thomas was quick to interject, "no excuses, there are no consequences for being prideful now."

that was ... true. but he still didn't do it. stubborn until the end of time, he used to proudly proclaim. thomas rolled his eyes and rose to his feet. "fine, let's do something else then." he said as he held out his hand for the other to take.

he took it, curious as to what he had planned. thomas guided him to the wide path and curled his arms around minho’s neck. minho stared back, not understanding. "put your hands on my waist, you dork."

minho hands fumbled to their place. "dancing? without music?"

thomas’s eyes softened as he tilted his head towards the lights, "we have the whole city singing for us."

"but i don't know what to do."

thomas brushed the hair out of minho’s face, "honestly, do what feels right."

they swayed while minho’s fingers wove through thomas’s hair. it was relaxing. they would occasionally stumble over nothing and blush when they made eye-contact for too long. it felt right. it didn't feel in the least bit juvenile or comical and soon they had become in sync. it was a song that he had on a worn-out record but minho swore he discovered something new to it. "the big finale?" thomas prodded, leading minho to cast him away from his body.

thomas spun out, the wind playing with his brown hair as quiet giggles surrounded him. he was rolled back into minho’s arms who held him tightly. thomas’s back was against his chest, the weight felt grounding in a way. "i think ... i need to tell you this." minho hesitated, letting thomas go.

"what is it?" thomas’s voice was timid, minho was used to hearing that tone from him but this felt different.

the gaze from the boy was disarming, almost as if he was as nervous as minho. the thoughts had crept up on restless evenings and left him tired from envisioning every outcome. it was terrifying and it was the reason minho was just now learning to acknowledge it. he tried to get his head clear, as his lips worked for the right words. "even if it's over, even when we turn to nothing, even if this moment is insignificant in the grand scheme of things, i want you to know that this is exactly where i want to be."

there were worse things than unrequited feelings, he knew that more than ever now. despite this, thomas looked at him with an expression that begged for minho to explain further. three concrete words on the tip of his tongue yet it never left its place. "i'm glad it's with you."

as those words fell into thomas’s ear, minho noticed the briefest flicker of fear and uncertainty. it disappeared though before minho even realized it had come. he felt something settle in his heart when thomas closed the space between them. "can i?"

the answer was simple. "yes."

thomas’s arms laid around minho’s neck, with the determination to never let him go again. his hands falling between a grip and a brush of fingers. when their lips met, euphoria spread out like a venomous bloom in his chest. it hurt like nothing he'd ever experienced before but it was beautiful. that moment could've been his end. the close of another abandoned storybook. thomas would've been every one of his moments if he had the option. in a trance, he'd almost neglected to breathe until the other boy moved, a tear dropping onto minho’s lap before he got away. but he wouldn't bring it up. he knew.

the stars shone brightly that night like they were giving them one last beautiful show. but even if the stars had long disappeared, minho had someone beside him who was much more captivating. his own cosmic mission.

thomas had his head rested on his’s shoulder, fabric softener clouding around him, the lavender scent had become home without even realizing it. he found himself ... content, lost in the peace, forgetting where he was, and what was looming. "if there is an afterlife, how long before i can have a moment like this again?" he thought out loud.

"you can wait. you can wait, my love." minho smiled, softly patting his head.

thomas leaned into the touch, happy to have seen him in this way. gentle, loving. "i like that, can you say it again?"

far off, the forest seemed to grow, the city lights and their glow blurring into thin lines. he felt himself finally relax. "my love."

then time dwindled, split, stretched until all of normality that remained was a silent, wispy breath.

[moral-turpitudes]

Silver Linings: Part 5

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts 

A/N: Don’t mind me I’m just over here hyperventilating bc of this gif. 

Trigger Warnings: Angst, FLUFF.

Word Count: 1,897

Characters: Michael Gray x Alfie’s Adopted Daughter!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | *Part 4* | Part 5

***Almost 1 year later:***

“Dear Y/N,

I hope this finds you well. I’m glad to hear things are still moving along at the shop. I think it’s great you’ve moved up in the business now that you don’t have to hide. A beautiful woman like yourself should never have to. In response to your last letter, I feel it’s important to tell you that I’ll be coming back soon, this week in fact. I know you’ve said you’ve waited for me and I can’t begin to describe how relieved I am to hear that. I’ve waited for this moment as well, and I’m counting down the days until we can meet again. I’m looking forward to whatever surprise you said you’d had.

All my love,

Michael.”

Her eyes scanned the letter as she curled up on her sofa, a tea cup nestled in her hands as her heart fluttered at the letter.

It had been almost a year since Thomas’ standoff with the mafia, leading to Luca and his men’s demise. Officially clearing her of any danger, at least for the time being.

She quickly went to the phone, calling her father who was most likely at the shop, recently raking in the dough so to speak, as his rum-running business was taking off, leading to a collaboration with Michael in New York.

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know he’s coming home.” She said, the sound of the men shouting and working in the background.

“Who? The one you’ve been writing every week for the last year? Oh right what’s his name...Michael summin’ innit?” He asked, jokingly. She chuckled lightly as cries were heard from the other room.

“Yeah. I know it’s going to be tense but I’m going to need you on my side. You’ve helped me enough as it is since you felt bad after him leaving. I just need you to be on my side this time though, please?” She said.

He sighed as he thought about the last time he and Thomas had a nasty fight, knowing the new addition would force an unlikely truce between the family, one that Alfie was as hesitant to make as Tommy was. But it was needed, especially if they needed help in the long run. Each of their families coming too close to death since the standoff.

“Alright, I’ll play nice. But that’s just because I want to see that little one grow up happy you hear? I’ll ring Tommy and let him know if he doesn’t already.” He said.

“Thank you. I have to go, but I’ll come by after I uh...take care of this.” She said, knowing she had a world of explaining to do.

“Good luck, darling. I’ll see you both soon.” He said, the phone lines ending as the cries grew louder.

“Hello....Y/C/N (your child’s name) have a good nap aye? It’s okay. Shh.” She cooed as she bounced the little baby around. They were just a few months shy of their first birthday.

“You’re going to meet your father this week sweetheart. He’ll love you. I promise.” She said, carrying the little bundle into the living room as she listened to them babbling.

As the day drug on she realized the date on the letter read a few days ago, meaning Michael was most likely going to be there today.

“Christ....” she mumbled as she held the baby who looked more like their father each day.

Over the time that their child had been in the world, she’d grown to like Michael’s mother Polly. Becoming ever thankful to have someone who understood her plight at a young age. Polly hated that her nephew and her father tore them apart, but at the time it was the best thing to do. But when she noticed Y/N started getting sick after meeting with her on occasion, Polly had known. She knew just in the way she carried herself, and how her eyes sunk with the newfound exhaustion. She even read her tea leaves which Alfie was skeptical of at first, but she knew and it was true. After she’d found out, Y/N pondered over her weekly letters, wondering if she should tell him the sudden news, but she figured it was best to keep it to herself and the family for the baby’s safety. But now, since the threat from the Changretta’s were gone, and with the news of Michael’s arrival, she figured now was as good of a time as ever.

As the evening drew near, she put Y/C/N down for bed, praying that when we he did come, he didn’t wake them up.

After pouring herself a glass of wine, she heard a knock at the door, her heart racing as she opened it see Michael, holding a small bouquet of flowers.

“Told you I’d be back.” He said with a grin. He’d pretty much looked the same, except his fashion sense improved a bit. His hair more slicked back than usual and his eyes slightly more tired, but not as tired as her own.

She couldn’t say anything at first, just wrapping him into a long hug on her doorstep.

“My god I’m so glad to see you. I um....I have a surprise. I just....I don’t want you to be mad alright?” She said hurriedly as if he’d leave again.

“Aye slow down sweetheart, it’s alright. I’m not leaving anytime soon. Lemme look at you...Wow.” He said twirling her around, noticing the more prominent circles under her eyes and the way her hair was slightly disheveled. She was still as beautiful as he’d remembered.

“You look beautiful. Maybe a little tired, but just as beautiful as when I left.” He said, giving her a kiss that was long over-due.

“That’s why I wanted to show your surprise. I...I have a good explanation besides work picking up and all. Take a seat in the living room and try not to be too loud.” She said rather quietly as he entered the apartment.

He didn’t think much of it as he sat down in the familiar living room, his heart aching at how he’d left the same room so long ago. But his demeanor soon changed though as he saw the sleeping baby in Y/N’s arms, his mind racing with trying to figure out how and when, and unfortunately with whom this could’ve happened with.

“Michael, please don’t be mad. I uh...after you left-“ She began as he cut her off. His voice blank as stared at the wall.

“Is that....is that someone else’s child Y/N?” He asked.

“What? No. Michael...they’re yours. It’s our child, I’ve named them Y/C/N.” She said swallowing hard, her worst fear seemingly coming to life as she knew he may not have taken the news well.

“Really?” He asked as her answer sank in, a small smile forming on his face as he looked at the little one wrapped in a small blanket, clearly still asleep.

“Yeah. I waited...and obviously couldn’t do much in the waiting anyways. I just....didn’t know when to tell you because I didn’t know if it was safe with the mafia and all. I just wanted to keep them safe. I hope you can understand.” She said, tears falling down her cheeks as she quickly wiped them away.

Michael quickly sat near her, holding her to him as he looked down at his child. His world feeling like it was changing with every millisecond.

“I don’t blame you alright love? I’m glad you’re both safe. That’s all I care about. I’m just sad I couldn’t have been there, but we have all the time to make up for it, yeah?” He asked, his heart about to explode as he realized he’s a father. The baby looking like him the more he gazed at them. In that moment wanting to protect them more than anything else in the world.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you and our child alright? I’m here now.” He said, helping her calm down as the baby started fussing about.

“Shhh. It’s okay love.” Y/N said gently, sniffling and wiping away her tears as she handed the baby to Michael.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his hands shaking slightly as he didn’t want to drop them.

“You’re their father. I trust you more than the family.” She said as he cradled the small bundle.

“They’ll be a year old in a few months. I think Y/C/N may have brought our families together. At least somewhat.” She said with a nervous chuckle.

The baby settled down as they fell asleep in the comfort of Michael’s arms. Causing a huge smile to form on his face.

“I can’t see why they couldn’t bring them together. I’m assuming my mum is handling it better than Thomas.” He said, an understandable annoyance in his tone towards his older blinder cousin.

“Yeah...Polly could tell I was pregnant just weeks after you’d left. She gave him a stern talking to though. I’ve come to like your mum after all. She’s a nice woman.” She said.

“How did your father take the news?” He asked.

“He was kind of like Thomas, only he felt more guilt. He knew making you leave would upset me and once he found out, he wanted to get you back once the Changretta drama had been resolved. But Thomas kind of kept him from infringing upon that plan. Him doing the rum business with you was his way of extending an olive branch I think.” She said, taking a deep breath as she laid her head on his shoulder. Taking in his familiar scent that she longed to have back all those months ago.

“I’m glad you came back though. I don’t think we could’ve gone much longer without you knowing. It ate me up inside not telling you but I’m so glad you’re here love. We need you.” She said, glancing at the flowers he’d set on the table.

“I have a feeling I’ll be staying a while now. So don’t worry about me. I’ll figure things out with Tom and the rest.” He said, brushing his hand softly over the baby’s little head, the hair so fine and fragile he pulled his hand away slowly, not wanting to disturb them.

“Y/C/N’s perfect. I....I can’t believe it. I never thought I’d come home to this....Thank you love. You’ve done so much. I’ll repay you, I’ll be sure to once this all gets settled.” He said.

“Just you being here is payment enough. Thank you for waiting. I know I sure did.” She said, yawning then kissing his cheek. A long, yet peaceful silence formed between them as the stars sparkled out the window, filling the room with a lovely blue glow.

“Well love, if you want to, you can stay up with them for a bit. I’d really like the sleep.” She said chuckling lightly.

“Of course. I’ll be there soon.” He said staring at the new little light in his life.

“Alright, goodnight you two. Love you.” She said.

“Love you too.” He said back, glad he was finally able to say it in person.

Never in a million years would he have thought something like that would come out of such a tense situation, but maybe there were silver linings in life after all, they both just had to wait long enough to finally see them.

[star-maiden]

Oracle of November - Healing and Personal Growth

Theme: What is needed for your highest growth and healing?

Hello and welcome! This week we are seeing a bit of a change with my readings! (Don’t worry. I will still do the Tarot Forecast). With everything that has been happening in the world recently, I think many of us are noticing a shift in energy. People are fearful, worried, anxious, angry, and all the shades of feeling that come in between. This week, I was inspired to do this oracle reading focusing on the themes of healing, self care and what we need to focus on to become the best, brightest version of ourselves. I asked Spirit to share messages that we needed to hear at this time to support our highest growth and healing, and in general help us handle everything that is happening in the world in a healthy and supportive way. As with all of my readings for the collective, these messages are meant for a wide range of people, life paths and situations. It is general outlook advice. As such, you may find that not everything resonates with you completely, and that is ok. Please take only what resonates and leave the rest. You will also want to check your sun, moon and rising signs for the message or messages that are meant for you. I sincerely hope that these messages will serve your highest and greatest good, and assist you in making wise, informed decisions. May you be safe and supported at all times!

⭐ Another deviation from my usual modus operandi this week is that instead of my tarot cards, I will be using an oracle deck. This is fairly unusual for me because I tend to only use my oracle deck in private readings for myself or with clients. However, I feel that this particular oracle is best suited to the task of providing us with the messages that will be most supportive at this time. If you guys like the oracle reading, I may start doing a monthly oracle for the collective. Please let me know if you would be interested in seeing that! This deck is the Starseed Oracle by Rebecca Campbell and Danielle Noel.

General Message: The general message for the entire collective at the moment is The Void. Stop. Embrace Winter. The Great Cosmic Womb. The message of this card tells us to surrender to the unknown. Trust that just because we do not have all the answers and cannot see every little thing that is happening beneath the surface, it doesn’t mean that something is not at work. We will all be best served by taking a sacred pause at this time. Rest, replenish and prepare ourselves to move forward in action again when the time is right.

♈ - Aries: The Great Severing. Mars energy. Anger. Conflict. Softening to love. For you this month, Aries, I am sensing that there is a rift that needs to be mended. This may be a conflict with loved ones or acquaintances, or it may be an internal conflict that you have been struggling with. This card is one of shadow work and confronting anything in our lives that make it difficult to feel connected to love, and supported in our work/daily lives. This card is appearing to tell you that it’s ok to feel the way that you do, even if the emotions may seem negative. In order to move away from hurt and anger, we have to go through the experience and process of feeling these things. Whatever is coming up for you, acknowledge it, process your feelings by allowing the experience. It doesn’t make you “weak” or incapable in any capacity, it makes you human. Still, do not feel ashamed of your reaction to difficult emotions. Wanting to hide away, to close your heart off and to protect yourself from further pain is normal. However, when this happens, it’s important for you to acknowledge what is happening and consider the reasons why. Do what you need to do to move through the experience of your emotions. It may be that you need some time for yourself, or that you need to talk to someone you trust, or even that you need to seek professional support. All of this is perfectly ok. Take care of yourself, Aries.

♉ - Taurus: Soul Plan. The Fated Life Vs the Destiny Life. Taurus, right now you need to remember your roots and your strength. What was it about your character, personality or spirit that has carried you so far already?  You have wandered away from yourself, and have not been standing in your power. This card is telling you that you have not lost your strength, but rather you have forgotten. Sometimes, when we find ourselves in unfamiliar situations, or on a path to which the destination is unclear, we experience doubt and fear. This is ok to feel, but don’t let it rob you of your agency. You are being called to remember the strength of your soul and the inspiration of your spirit. What can you accomplish when you lead from a place of love, rather than an illusion created by fear?  

♊ - Gemini: Messenger. Sirius Energy. Bringing Harmony and Balance. The message for you this month, and the way that you can support your highest growth and healing right now rests in the power of your voice. This is the power of your mind and your words to create and communicate. It may even be that you are not the one in need of healing at this time, but that you are being called to act as a mediator for someone else. The message of this card is that there are certain souls on this planet who are here to spend their lifetimes uplifting the collective energy, and to be the guardians of balance and harmony. Their life path or purpose, in this sense, is to help the collective recognize the connections that tie us together. This includes connections between people, people and the planet, with spirit and the divine. It is possible that you are one of these souls tasked with holding this frequency of pure love. There may be a special calling or work that you feel drawn to, or you could simply be meant to live your life with great love and intention, leading by example. This month, consider how you can create balance in your life? Who does this benefit? How does creating balance take care of you? Be sure not to create this balance at the detriment of your own well being, though.

♋ - Cancer: Loosen Your Grip. Coping Mechanisms. Destiny. Addictions. Let God In. This card is appearing to let you know that there is something, a feeling, habit or idea, that you have been holding onto too tightly. It is likely that you have used this thing as a coping mechanism; as a way to distract yourself from the things that are not going well in your life, or to cover a vulnerable aspect of yourself. This is not supportive for you, and has become a hindrance to your growth and happiness. It is time to let go, and to trust yourself and the experience you are having now. You are strong and capable, and can meet any challenge with grace and ease. Do not let fear tell you otherwise. Call in support if you need to. The oracle book says this: “Loosening your grip doesn’t mean that what you are clinging to will go away. It may. Or it might stay. But you can be sure that what is for you will find you.” Take this time to let go of anything that is not serving you, or that is destructive in any way. Letting go is part of the healthing process.

♌ - Leo: Star Bathing. Light Body. Crystal Grid. Transmission. Activation. I’m hearing a question for you, Leo. Spirit is saying “Where do you shine?”. In what ways do you feel most inspired to show up in the world? In what ways do you feel stifled? This card is asking you to consider what has been going on recently in your life. Is there anything that makes you feel especially drained, or reluctant? If so, it could be that it is not meant for you and needs to be let go. It could also mean that you are spending too much time focusing on outward actions, and not enough time doing things that are meaningful and restorative for you. Evaluate your feelings and energy levels. Take things slow. Is there anything that needs to change?

♍ - Virgo: Earth School. Life Lessons. Soul Growth. Study. Higher Learning. There is something that you need to learn, a karmic lesson perhaps. What has been showing up for you again and again? Virgo, pay attention to any patterns that may appear in your life right now. This is a sign that you need to pay special attention to these areas as it is time to mend them. This card also asks you to consider your perspective on any difficulties that show up in your life right now. You may find them easier to handle if you think of them as opportunities for growth, rather than “getting something wrong”. This month, consider: How are you being called to grow and learn?

♎ - Libra: Earth Pulsing. Pulse of the Mother. Slow Down. Time in Nature. Wow, Libra! Spirit’s message for you came through so clear! This month, you need to focus on self care. If you have recently found yourself in a cycle of “go, go, go” and are feeling a bit tired, then it’s time to rest. It’s time for you to reconnect with nature, with yourself, with the earth energy. When you take time for yourself, you allow for stagnant energy to fall away, and open yourself up to receiving more energies of love and inspiration from the universe.

♏ - Scorpio: You’re not for Everyone. Embrace Your Weirdness. Face Your True North. The message of this card tells you that you shouldn’t try to fit in or conform to anyone’s perception of who you are. Rather, you should focus on being true to yourself, and showing up in the world in a way that makes you happy. Sometimes, this is difficult for others to accept. Most often, it is the people who are closest to us that carry the strongest opinions of who we should be, and it can sometimes result in conflicts and disbelief whenever we uncover a side of ourselves that was previously hidden. Others may not agree with our choices or styles, but this is ok. We need to learn to be ok with each other's differences, and if someone cannot accept you for who you are, then it is a waste of your time and energy to try and convince them otherwise. In life, there will always be people who don’t like you because you don’t fit in the box that they have created to categorize and understand the world around them. This isn’t your fault or problem to fix. For every person that dislikes you, there is also someone else who will love you fiercely and stand up for you should you need it. Seek out these people. Don’t waste your time and gifts trying to make someone else see your worth. If they can’t see it already, it’s their loss.

♐ - Sagittarius: You are Not Alone. Isolation. Physical Connection. Community. With this card, Sagittarius, I am hearing that perhaps you have been spending too much time in your head. You may have withdrawn into yourself to deal with something, or to protect yourself from pain or conflict. In fact, many people find it deeply nourishing and healing to pull back from the buzz of the world, go within and rest. It is a great tool of self care, and a wonderful way to take care of ourselves when we feel overwhelmed. However, we can also spend too much time alone. If we stay withdrawn to the point that we are completely isolated from everything and everyone around us, then this can also be draining and damaging. Right now, it may not be safe for you to venture out and you’ll want to consider your personal health and safety when making decisions. One great tool that we have is technology. If you have been feeling isolated and alone, reach out on social media or to your friends via technology. How can you reach out to the people in your life to feel more supported?

♑ - Capricorn: Forge. Don’t Follow. Be the leader you wish you had. This month, Capricorn, you are being called to heal and mend something that happened in the past. This may be something that happened to you or to someone around you. Pave a new path forward by leading by example. Is there something that occurred in the past that you feel was handled poorly? This could also be in reference to social justice and equity. How can you be a leader in this situation? The book says “the most courageous and needed leaders are the ones who don’t wait for permission, or until they wake up feeling ready. They take a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other, and figure it out as they go.” This is a powerful message. Like Gemini’s message, I’m sensing that it may not be you who needs healing at this time. It may be that you are being called to light the way for someone else. If no one is stepping up to the plate on topics that you are passionate about, then forge your own way. If this is something that you feel very strongly about, then no one else would be able to meet your goal with the same level of skill, passion, experience and unique perspective as you can. How are you being called to lead right now?

♒ - Aquarius: Big Picture Thinking. Pleiades Energy. Visionary. Inspired Ideas. You are being called to bring healing and renewed energy into your life through your creativity and inspiration. Is there an area of your life that feels stagnant and watered down? If so, then it is time to breathe some life back into it; to rekindle your passionate spirit. It is never too late to make changes and to learn new things. Aquarius, you may be the sign that knows this lesson best. What new ideas or creations are you being called to pursue? These ideas may be revolutionary in the sense that they turn the status quo upside down, or they may be of a “big-picture” perspective; designed to create change on a large scale. This card is asking you to dream a new world into being for yourself. To do so, you will need to envision what sort of future you’d like to have, hold this vision and follow it with daily action. Walking this path may take great courage, but it will be worth it in the end.

♓ - Pisces: Child of the Cosmos. The intelligence of the universe lies within you. This month, you are being called to trust yourself. Trust your inner knowing and all the work you have done thus far.The intelligence of Spirit; of the universe and the Divine is within you, just as it is in all living things. It is the part of you that knows the way forward no matter how unclear and uncertain your logical mind becomes. However, because we all live our lives with free will, it can sometimes be hard to recognize the deeper wisdom of our higher selves. We may become disconnected from our intuition, and forget to trust our own sense of knowing. If you have felt lost lately, then this card is a reminder to look within. Trust the voice of your intuition, and let it guide you forward. You are always connected to the source of inner strength, wisdom, flow and power. You just need to remember.

[cno-inbminor]

immergo

a/n: i recently watched haikyuu and i’m absolutely hooked. to help get it out of my system in time for final papers and assignments, i’m procrastinating by writing this out. hope you enjoy!

featuring: oikawa tooru x fem!reader & some OC’s + iwaizumi

genre: best friends to lovers!au, angst, fluff, slooow burn, some cliches to make people suffer

summary: tooru is as constant as the stars and as real as the earth beneath your feet, yet even for you, he still manages to slip away. and when it’s all too late, only then does he attempt to come back.

word count: 21.9k (this is a monster)

playlist: i wanted to try making one so here's a playlist on spotify: immergo

edit: now crossposted onto AO3 here!

-

You are five years old when you first meet him.

He’s got a terrible bowl cut and sand particles smudged on his cheek. A plastic, ocean blue shovel is dug deep into the sand before being lifted up with a load, then precariously dumped into a matching bucket. A teetering sandcastle threatens to fully collapse, yet somehow still sporting a little plastic yellow umbrella that some other kids might’ve left behind. You’re clutching your mother’s hand, a clenched fist brought up to your mouth to hide the trembling of your lips from the nervousness of approaching new people. The sandbox is a part of the playground, but you want to be there alone. You want to be in your own little world, too terrified to face the unknowns, but after the last two weeks of coming by, this boy is always in the sandbox.

Your mother somehow convinces you that you can make new friends. ‘But don’t boys have cooties?’ you ponder. There’s only a week left until kindergarten starts, and your mother thinks it would be nice to try to meet someone so you’ll at least have some semblance of familiarity. Just when you think you’re brave enough, you almost yelp in renewed fear when another boy comes into the scene and plops down next to the other boy, his own pair of a bucket and shovel dyed a bright, firetruck red, and is ready to start digging up sand. You watch him eye the falling castle, grumbling something to the other boy before attempting to patch it and stand it back up. The other boy stares at him with wide eyes and an open mouth before morphing his face into a childish, happy grin. And immediately, you think, ‘Oh wow, I like his smile.’

Not only is it bright and wide, but there’s a certain feeling of gentleness. None of this is eloquently elaborated in your brain, but there’s a comfort that settles into your mind. That smile is what causes you to (though still hesitantly) let go of your mother’s hand and slowly wobble to the sand box, pause, before you step up and over the wooden border. The two boys have ceased their castle-building duties to stare at you, who’s now sitting in the sand and looking towards anything but them. Your head scrambles to remind yourself on how to say hello, and it must’ve done something correctly because before they can ask questions, you quietly ask, “Can I play with you guys?”

Both boys look toward each other, giving a look, before the boy with the red bucket shrugs and says, “Okay. As long as you don’t mess up my castle.”

Bowl-cut tyke flicks sand at him, causing him to splutter and yell in protest. “Don’t be so mean, Hajime!” Bowl-cut scolds before turning back to you with that earlier grin. “I’m Oikawa Tooru and he’s Iwaizumi Hajime. Wanna help me with my castle?”

And ever since you moved to this new city until now, your mother has never seen your eyes so bright.

-

You are ten years old when Oikawa, with a better hairstyle, receives his first love confession of sorts (because you’re ten).

It takes until fifth grade for you to be finally in a class with both him and Iwaizumi. Other years either had one or neither of them, but you were still able to reconvene during recess. The three of you are attached at the hips during those 30 minutes, either running around in a game of tag, swinging as fast as you could across the monkey bars, or seeing who could swing the highest.

On days when the swings are particularly busy, the three of you would take turns pushing each other, trading off once one of you had your fill. “Higher!” Oikawa would always yell happily, his voice blending in with the rest of the screams and laughs in the playground. With your own laughs leaving your lips as you attempt to push the swing, Iwaizumi would instead yell back at him, “Use your own legs, idiot! That’s what they’re for!” To which Oikawa would whine, but eyes would still crinkle in childish delight as he approached the sky.

But Oikawa notices a lot of things, more than the average fifth grader does. Then again, it isn’t hard to spot the group of giggling girls under a tree’s shade nearby, evidently gazing at him in wonder and affection. He feels his heart soar at the attention and in turn, pumps his legs even harder, almost reaching perpendicular height to the ground. Oikawa admits that he is a bit of a show-off, he wants to be the best, and without warning, releases his hands from the chains and jumps off from the swing.

Both you and Iwaizumi gape at him with a mixture of horror and awe. If you could put this moment in slow motion, you would see Oikawa suspended in mid-air, yet somehow seeming to soar like a bird. His jacket flows behind him as his arms lift up to give a sense of balance, legs stretching out to get ready to meet the ground. You wonder what the expression on his face is like, yet the terror manifests itself into your shriek of his name, pitch and tone overpowering a similar call from Iwaizumi. But Oikawa is Oikawa and he lands on both feet, knees bent and almost touching the ground before straightening back up. You’re about to start running towards him, feet already moving, until you stop because he’s twisting himself towards you and Iwaizumi, V-sign held up and that same, big grin he always has. The sun casts a halo around him and you can’t bring yourself to look away. Your feet stay rooted on the mulch and you watch as Iwaizumi stomps over to punch Oikawa in the arm, yelling about how he could’ve broken his legs and who would he play volleyball with then, leaving you to spot the aforementioned fangirls huddled like they’re coming up with a grand plan.

At first, you think nothing of it. It isn’t until after school as the three of you are walking towards the entrance when you wish you were more perceptive like Oikawa. One of the girls from under the tree has gone up to him, quickly bowing while introducing herself, grabs one of his hands to slap a folded piece of paper into it, and almost sprints away. Oikawa doesn’t have a chance to say anything, but he can only give himself a few seconds to register what just happened and unfold the ripped notebook paper. Inside in pretty cursive is an email address (because none of you have cellphones yet), which causes Oikawa to put on a shit-eating grin. He just basically received a love note, a confession, and his ego has just been fed a meal fit for a king.

He brags and boasts the whole way home, causing a permanent frown to settle on Iwaizumi’s face from pure irritation, and you find yourself only able to stay quiet, pondering and contemplating what this small nasty feeling inside your chest could be.

-

Oikawa and Iwaizumi are fourteen years old, nearly fifteen, when you receive your first love confession, which ends up being a little more refined than a hastily torn piece of notebook paper possessing an email address.

Their afternoons and early evenings are occupied by volleyball. While you had been at Lil Tykes from the ages of 6 to 10, mainly due to a massive fear of missing out and wanting to spend more time with your new best friends then, you didn’t have as much talent as those two and decided to pursue other interests. Iwaizumi and Oikawa had protested vehemently when you broke the news to them one evening over dinner at the setter's house, their mouths full of rice and chicken curry yet somehow still managing to speak over the food. Oikawa’s mother had seen you shrink further and further into your chair before slamming her hand on the table, causing the two boys to startle and cease their yelling.

“Respect (y/n)’s interests! I did not raise you,” she spoke pointedly, directing a finger at her now ashamed son, “to be so rude. If she doesn’t want to play volleyball anymore, then she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t need to keep doing something she doesn’t want to do just because you two said so. Now, both of you apologize to (y/n) and finish your dinner.”

“Yes, mother,” and “Yes, auntie,” both quietly left their lips. You wanted to hug the woman right then and there, tears nearly forming and spilling over at the fact that she was on your side. The two boys had put their spoons down and waited for a few seconds before Iwaizumi finally spoke.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you. We’re just gonna miss you a lot,” he apologized, tone sad and soft. Oikawa was still chewing on his bottom lip when Iwaizumi elbowed him to say something. “Apologize, you idiot,” he hissed.

“Ow! I know, geez. I’m sorry, too. Mom’s right, I should respect what you want to do. We’re gonna miss seeing you, like this meanie said,” Oikawa jabbing a thumb in the direction of his male best friend. Their eyes are still downcast until you let out a small giggle.

“Apologies accepted, you dummies.”

You still found time after your new art classes to go watch them play volleyball with either Iwazumi’s or Oikawa’s mother picking you all up and heading home. The three of you still lived near each other, and the two boys were happy that they could still see you somehow. Lil Tykes after school evolved into official middle school volleyball practice, yet you were still commonly found in the bleachers finishing homework or doodling in a sketchbook, patiently waiting for your two best friends to go home with you.

A teammate by the name of Wakeda had taken notice of you, had seen your interactions with the best players on their team. He had seen how nice you were with your classmates, yet still unafraid to give Oikawa and Iwaizumi shit for the smallest things. Your aura is pleasant and raw in a genuine sense, only fueling his budding, burning crush on you. He decided he wanted to be confident and bold, hoping that you would give him a chance.

The Friday afternoon starts off like any other -- Iwaizumi and Oikawa head off to volleyball practice with a greeting and a wave, receiving one from you in return as you make your way towards the math club. The art classes from late elementary school only served to show that you only possessed some mild talent for drawing and painting, but not enough for you to continue paying money for classes. The passion and drive didn’t exist for you there, not like it does with Iwaizumi and Oikawa in volleyball, and it only became something that you enjoyed in your leisure time. Instead, you eventually find yourself balancing math club and chess club -- math is on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons while chess is on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, but they never run as late as volleyball practice.

As tiring as math club can be sometimes, you usually somehow still find the energy to finish the bulk of your homework before heading home. When you walk through the bleachers and settle into your normal seat, the team spots you and gives you a casual wave. You smile and wave back, setting your stuff down before you clamber towards the edge of the rail and look down to spot the manager. On time, she looks up and greets you with a matching smile, ones that you return. The team is coincidentally taking a quick water break, giving Oikawa and Iwaizumi enough time to quickly chat with you from below (and escape their coach for a hot second).

“How was math club?” Iwaizumi calls out. Oikawa subtly observes you as you shrug. To both him and Hajime, the mental exhaustion is evident on your face and figure, yet they always find themselves asking, waiting, watching.

“It was okay,” you respond, fighting back a yawn. “Practice competition round was a bit brutal. How’s practice?” You quickly digress, noticing Oikawa was about to jump in and ask for some details.

“This crappy guy over here keeps pushing himself too much. You know, the usual,” Iwaizumi speaks before, once again, Oikawa can say anything. The latter turns to him and lets out an indignant “Hey!” before quickly attempting to defend himself.

“Iwa-chan is being mean, I’m not--”

“All right, let’s get back to work! Everybody back on the court!” The coach yells and Oikawa can only drop his shoulders and sigh, slightly trudging back into the bounds of the court outline. You stare after him worriedly -- both he (mainly out of stubbornness) and Iwaizumi (mainly out of friendship and loyalty) had been pulling late extra practice sessions and the dark eye circles were starting to become more and more noticeable. As if he could tell what you were probably thinking, he turns back and gives a thumbs up with a grin, tongue slightly poking out. You can only roll your eyes at his antics, returning to your seat in the bleachers and pulling out your science homework.

The minutes tick by as the sun slowly begins to set, rays streaming through the windows of the gym in a harsh blood orange. The coach takes a look at his watch before blowing his whistle, signalling the end of practice. The sound of volleyballs hitting skin abruptly stops, except for one last jump-serve that Oikawa sneaks in. The coach berates him loudly, only causing Oikawa to sheepishly smile and rub the back of his neck. All the players bow and announce their thanks before moving to complete their respective clean-up duties. By this time, you gather your stuff and make your way towards the ground floor. Even if your best friends were going to do some extra practice, it’s better for you to sit at their level against the wall.

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor increases in volume as you approach the court. But before you can make your way towards Iwaizumi and Oikawa on the other side of the net, Wakeda calls out your name. You turn towards the left to see him pick up a volleyball not far from you, and Wakeda is counting his lucky stars that he was provided with an excuse to be near you.

“Aoki-san,” you greet him by his last name. “How was practice?”

“It was good, but Coach really worked us to the bone today,” he nervously replies, hands subtly clenching the volleyball in his hands. “I was wondering if I could speak with you for a second? In private?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You’ve never really had much interaction with him outside of volleyball practice, and even then it was very limited to pleasantries. Perhaps it’s about Iwaizumi and Oikawa running themselves to the ground, and nothing to do with you. “Sure,” you agree, looking around before gesturing towards the door of the gym. “We can talk out here, if you’d like.” Wakeda quickly nods and follows you. At this time, the other boys have retreated towards the locker room except for one. One who narrows his eyes at the retreating backs of two people making their way out of the gym.

He puts the last ball in the ball cart, ignoring his friend’s confused look as he jogs towards the entrance of the gym and leans against the wall out of sight. He knows it's wrong to eavesdrop, but he just has to know about what could be unfolding.

The two of you are only a few feet away from the open door and you can only look perplexed as Wakeda begins to look more and more bashful, stumbling over words and anxiously tossing the ball side to side between his hands.

“Is everything okay?” You ask worriedly, trying to maintain eye contact until you can because he’s looking straight down towards the ground. Your heart pounds in your chest as you start to fathom what might be happening.

“I’m sorry, I just -- I like you. I think you’re really nice and cool, and I would like it if I could take you out on a date.”

You’re stunned into silence. Never has anyone expressed any semblance of romantic interest in you, nor has anyone confessed. You’ve never been in this position and the first thing your brain starts to unravel is the puzzle of how to turn someone down. It’s not that going on a date with Wakeda would be terrible -- you just don’t know enough about him. You don’t want to bring his hopes up, but you don’t want to bring him down either.

On the other side of the wood, the boy’s eyebrows are furrowed. His arms are crossed and a foot is perched against the wall, legs making the shape of the number four. His eyes are burning holes into the window across from him and he can’t figure out why a feeling of protectiveness is washing over him. But what he can’t figure out even more is why his mind is instantly screaming, “Please say no please say no please say no don’t say yes don’t leave us don’t leave me--”

“I’m sorry,” he hears, ears straining to catch your voice as you softly apologize. You watch as Wakeda’s shoulders slump and the volleyball is finally kept still between his hands. You gently put a hand on his upper arm. “I can tell you’re a nice guy, but I don’t feel that way about you. I’m sorry.”

Wakeda lets out a long breath before mustering up his best smile for you. “It’s okay, I was kind of expecting it." A hand reaches up to run a hand through his hair in embarrassment and he’s trying to think of what to say next. Be bold, be confident, his inner self reminds him as he stands tall again. Wakeda puts up the cheekiest smile you’ve seen on him so far. “But I’ll be waiting, if you ever change your mind.”

The statement only makes you smile first and then chuckle. Wakeda basks in the sound for as long as he can before he shyly joins you. The laughter isn’t meant to demean him in any way, but it’s the only reaction you can feel yourself make. It’s all so foreign to you, but you’re glad that your first interaction like this is with someone as kind as him. You trust Oikawa’s teammates.

“Thank you though, it must’ve taken a lot of courage to do this. To be honest, this has never happened to me before and I just don’t know what to say,” you ramble a little, now wondering if you’ve said too much. Wakeda begins to look a little more comfortable before making his way back to the gym with you following.

“Would it be cheesy to say I’m glad I was the first?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I know now that I’m never changing my mind.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Wakeda exclaims, only causing you to laugh. “You gotta leave some room for chance so--”

“Oi, Wakeda,” you hear a familiar voice call out. Your eyes spot Oikawa slowly making his way from the other side of the gym, walking towards you two with a hand in a pocket and another hand in the air, waving. But it’s perplexing because his chest is heaving like he just sprinted his fastest around the court. “Is that the last ball?”

“Ah, yes, sorry senpai!” Wakeda apologizes before tossing the ball into Oikawa’s awaiting hand. It quickly gets thrown into the ball cart. When you two are standing right in front of him, your friend pats Wakeda on the shoulder. “Go ahead and clean up, you deserve a break,” he says before smiling. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes or even match his eyes. His chestnut orbs have another emotion burning in them, far from the light they would usually glint when paired with a genuine grin. Wakeda quickly lets out a “see you around” and you wave back at him. Once the boy has disappeared into the locker room, you direct your attention back to Oikawa. That earlier fire in his eyes has dimmed a little, but you want to know what it is and why it’s there.

A word barely leaves your tongue when strong arms hug you to a sturdy chest. They intertwine around your shoulders, the squeeze becoming more and more constricting. Your chest tightens and you’re not sure if it’s your heartbeat or his that you’re feeling beat against your chest. In a movement of instinct, you hesitantly wrap your own arms around Oikawa, hand linking to hold onto your own wrist behind his back. Your face is pressed into his shoulder, your nose catching the lingering scent of his deodorant mixed with his sweat. His chin is perched over your shoulder momentarily before he buries his face in the crook of your neck, causing you to stiffen.

It’s not that Oikawa has never hugged you before. There have been plenty of hugs with the two boys over the last nine years, but something is different about this one. There’s an underlying intention hidden in the muscles of Oikawa’s arms, hidden in the way that he breathes in your scent. Something heavy is unspoken as a sense of intimacy falls over the two of you like a soft blanket. You can only gently grasp the back of his jersey, his grip somehow tightening even more, and finally find your voice to speak.

“Tooru,” you murmur, fighting the sensation of your heart caught in your throat. Very rarely do you ever say his name in that tone, one so gentle and full of friendly affection (but did he want it to be just friendly?), so caring and drowned in empathy. “Is everything okay?” You continue and ask. He’s trying to tell you something. He’s trying to scream it through his mind, hoping it’ll somehow miraculously meet yours. But even he doesn’t understand what’s drawing him to do this. All he knows is that as soon as Wakeda was out of sight, he needed you here in his arms. The non-verbal pleas of worry and want from earlier have substantially settled, now morphing into thoughts of “It’s okay, she’s here, she isn’t leaving us, she isn’t leaving me--”. It must be the stress from wanting to become the best, from the stress of Kageyama Tobio’s looming ascent to the top, from the general stress of classes. It must be those. It couldn’t be anything else.

“Everything’s fine,” he replies into your neck, sound muffled but just as quiet as yours had been. You can only feel your heart sink at how strained those words came out. Everything was clearly not fine. Your hands unlink and move to his waist, putting some force into your palms to try to separate from him so you can see his face. But Oikawa quickly protests a soft “no”, once again pulling you as close to him as possible with an arm around your waist and the other soon joining. He can’t handle distance from you right now, some budding anxiety from your attempts at separation quickly subdued as you’re pressed fully against his chest again. “Just give me this moment,” he thinks and pleads to some unknown force.

“I’m just...stressed,” he says before letting out a long breath and disentangling himself from you. But he doesn’t move far, the tips of both of your sneakers just centimeters apart from touching. He straightens his back and lifts his head to momentarily look into your eyes, your own face slightly tilted upwards to meet his gaze. But before you can decipher the emotions in his eyes, his head tilts down to lean his forehead against yours. Though his eyes are closed, yours are still open in muted astonishment. If the hug wasn’t very new, then this action was definitely new. The tip of his nose barely grazes yours, causing your breath to hitch, once again feeling your heart stuck in your throat. You struggle to breathe, especially when his lips are so close to yours. Somehow your thoughts drift to thinking of what would happen if you elevated your feet just a little bit, what would it feel like if your lips softly met his--

“There’s a lot going on,” he interrupts your (silly, silly) thoughts. “I keep getting reminded of how I’m not good enough, and maybe I never will be. But I want to be the best, you know?” For how tall Oikawa is, you’ve never heard him sound so small before. Your eyes can’t help but flutter closed as you relish in the sound of his voice. You try to understand what he’s feeling, the frustration, the stress, the insecurity.

“I hate knowing there’s someone better out there. I hate that there’s someone out there, right here, who’s got the pure talent and prodigal level that I don’t have because I keep getting reminded of how I’m not the one who has it. It’s just not fair, (y/n), do you understand?”

“But I know you’re here for me. And Iwaizumi. I know you believe in me and in us. You're right here with us. You always are,” he continues before you can affirm and acknowledge him. His fingers ghost over your skin, up from your wrists, to your elbows, then your shoulders, lastly lingering at the sides of your neck. Goosebumps break out in the wake of his tender trail and you fight the urge to shiver. You so badly want to open your eyes and drink in this moment of vulnerability from Oikawa, but you’re afraid that you’ll do something rash, something you’ll regret. You’re then given all the more reason to keep your eyes shut when his hands gently cradle your face, his thumbs on your cheeks, the other fingers softly splayed down your neck. He inhales sharply, then daring to slant his head down just the slightest distance, your noses firmly touching now. Your heart is now thrashing wildly against your ribcage -- you have no grasp on what is happening.

“Promise me you’ll never leave us, (y/n),” he implores, raw desperation laced and building in his voice. You can’t help but recognize the tears uncontrollably forming behind your eyelids. Nothing else around you matters -- it’s only you and Oikawa in this impenetrable bubble that you two have created. You’re too far in now, sinking and drowning into this body of water that is him, entangled and rooted in this web that he’s so quickly and craftily woven. He could ask anything of you and you would do it in the blink of an eye. How he made you feel this way in just a few minutes, from the door of the gym to the embrace of his arms, is completely beyond you, but you can’t seem to find the complaints within you. ‘How cruel of him,’ you despondently think, still unable to find it in yourself to be mad. ‘How wicked of him.’

But then Oikawa deals the final blow with a shaky breath. He lays out his last trap, one that you can’t escape. It’s the final straw, the last pull into a heartbreaking world that you will never be able to escape from for as far into the future as you can see; desperation, yearning, beseeching.

“Promise that you’ll never leave me.”

Nothing, nothing, can stop you from whispering what he so deeply desires to hear, fall delicately off your tongue.

“I promise.”

And his lips crash onto yours.

-

You and Iwaizumi are fifteen years old when Oikawa falls to his lowest.

The kiss was a one-time thing. It had lasted no more than a few seconds when the sound of the locker room door swinging open had you two jumping apart and turning away from each other. Oikawa found it easier than you did to compose himself, though internally he was berating his actions. What was it that made him do such a thing? What was it that pushed him to cross the line he never thought he’d cross? What was it that made him want to spin back around and continue what he had started?

“Iwa-chan!” He had hollered across the building, waving over said male who had smartly refrained from changing his clothes. “Help with some tosses? Serves?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Iwaizumi had muttered under his breath, grunting his affirmation loud enough. But in his peripheral, he had spotted your figure hunched over your things on the bench, had squinted at the way you seemed to be shaking, shivering. He had noticed the look, almost a glare, that Oikawa had directed towards Wakeda before imperceptibly shaking his head to focus on the extra task.

And it wasn’t until weeks later that Oikawa breached the subject during a walk home, sans you because you had late night practice with the math club to prepare for some upcoming Olympiad competition. You were insistent through text that they didn't wait for you and that one of your teammates would help walk you home. Oikawa argued quite relentlessly against it until you threatened to block him from the group chat (though it wasn’t the first time you threatened such a thing) and Iwaizumi decided to take his phone away.

While much wasn’t being said, mainly both preoccupied with their popsicles that they had stopped at a convenience store for, Oikawa broke the silence.

“I kissed (y/n).”

Iwaizumi nearly choked on his popsicle, spluttering and struggling to find the right words to say. Yet the best he could come up with was, “So are you two...dating?”

“No.”

“What the fuck? Why are you telling me this?”

“Because we’re best friends, Iwa-chan. I didn’t know when to tell you though, thought you’d get mad at me,” Oikawa said, pouting childishly.

“So...well, you can tell me what happened before it later. But what happened after? And when did this even happen?”

“Everything just went back to normal. We never spoke about it. And it happened a few weeks ago in the gym after practice.”

“But why?”

“Hmm…” Oikawa had pondered for a few seconds and then shrugged. “Not sure. I was just really stressed, and I was scared that she’d leave us.”

“Us? How am I included in this? And where’d you even come up with that thought?”

“Because it’s always been us three, and it’s always gonna be us. We can’t be apart.”

“We’re eventually going to be apart, you know. It’s not likely that we’re all going to end up in the same city.”

“No,” Oikawa spoke obstinately, hands harshly crushing the wrapper around the now empty popsicle stick. “That’s not going to happen. We’re going to stick together wherever we go. We’ll play for the national team and (y/n) will find a job in Tokyo. We’re always going to be near each other. That’s how it’ll be. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Iwaizumi had nothing to say about that, except for, “We’ll see.”

In the month or so to the blossoming age of fifteen, things don’t change very much. Oikawa becomes more physically affectionate with you and Iwaizumi. You try not to notice how often and how casually Oikawa tends to sling an arm over your shoulders. He does the same with Iwaizumi, though the latter is more likely to shrug it off in mock annoyance and causes Oikawa to lament about lost friendships. But even if physical distance has shortened, Oikawa begins to dig a mental wall between you two. His face becomes more hardened during practice, rarely ever putting up an earnest smile with his teammates. The late-night practices run even later, each serve hitting harder, each toss against the wall getting stronger. The nights when you leave him on his own slowly increase in frequency, going back home with only Iwaizumi. The third leg of the triangle missing feels so adulterated, so wrong. Oikawa is digging himself towards a hell that he won’t be able to return from, but how can you lift him back up? How can you dig your heels into the earth and pull him back out?

“I’m trying my best,” Iwaizumi attempts to comfort you one night. He sees how often you turn back to look at Oikawa as the two of you reluctantly move to leave the gym. Practice had been rough on him, getting switched out with Kageyama Tobio. You had watched his defeated body collapse onto the bench, and there was nothing more that you wanted to do than to run down and snap him out of whatever mental spiral he had created. One serve after another slams into the ground, his figure hunched and panting yet pushing itself to the limits.

“He’s going to kill himself at this rate,” you whisper morosely, turning back to peer at the dark sky. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“You know there’s no one more stubborn than that idiot. He’d have to pass out for you to drag him out of here.”

“Please teach me how to serve!” A young male voice calls out. Both of you pivot on your feet to see the source, eyes focusing on the scene of Kageyama Tobio requesting a seemingly simple task from a senpai.

But you can only watch as Oikawa’s eyes lose any semblance of emotion, instead only darkening with what seems like rage entering his body. He begins to tremble, and Iwaizumi must’ve seen something shift because no sooner than that does he bolt at top speed towards the unsuspecting pair. You can only watch in horror, shell-shocked, as Oikawa begins to forcibly swing his right arm, the back of his hand aiming straight for Tobio’s right cheek.

A horrible screech unearths from your throat in the form of a piercing “NO!” and slices through the air, just as Iwaizumi is able to stop Oikawa’s assault on the poor unsuspecting underclassman. You’ve never seen him so uncontrolled, so ready to intentionally commit an act of violence against an innocent person. Your ears pulse with your heartbeat, barely registering Iwaizumi apologizing to Tobio and giving Oikawa the lecture of his life.

The latter is reminded of the purpose of having a team, is scolded for having been so selfish in his pursuit for excellence. You start sprinting over when Iwaizumi headbutts Oikawa in the nose for his insolence, tossing your bag down as it only decreases your speed. You don’t care for the trouble of cleaning out blood stains from towels when you begin to clean his face, his eyes still furious and full of anguish but somewhat softened when he sees your tears. He continues to let Iwaizumi teach him a lesson while you pinch the bridge of his nose and tilt his head back. Like handling a doll, you have to lift his arm so he can keep the towel in place himself. You then scurry off to find the first-aid kit, leaving Oikawa to fend for himself. Only a couple of minutes later, the three of you are sitting on the ground and you’re dabbing ointment on the emerging bruise right in the middle of Iwaizumi’s forehead. Iwaizumi is a little calmer now, though he’s still verbally punishing Oikawa for even thinking of purposefully hurting a teammate.

Oikawa thinks the three of you are all fine and okay. He’d be ridiculously thickheaded if he wasn’t able to catch onto how quiet you are on the walk home, how instead of walking between him and Iwaizumi, you’re now on the opposite end. There’s a tug at his heartstrings when he plays with the idea that you’re attempting to put distance between you and him, but he refuses to believe it. His actions were a momentary lapse in terrible, awful judgment, and you had forgiven him. Why else would you have tried to help with his nosebleed? There’s no way you’d let something like this drive a rift in the trio.

There’s just no way.

-

“You’ve been avoiding him, haven’t you?”

There are times when you forget that Iwaizumi can be just as perceptive as Oikawa. For the last two weeks, you would, more often than not, avoid them during lunch. You attempt to show up at their volleyball practice as late as possible, saying that your club activities went longer than usual to prepare for upcoming competitions. You still walk on the opposite side from Oikawa on the way home and only give the bare minimum answers to any of his questions, leaving very little room to continue conversation. The atmosphere is heavy and awkward, tension so thick that Iwaizumi would need a chainsaw to cut through it.

This time you’re on the roof of the school. It’s cliché, so cliché, but the weather was too hard to ignore. Mostly cloudy with a slight wind, the perfect temperature without feeling too hot or too cold. You loved being outside during these days, and you had weaved as fast as possible through the emerging crowd of third years, up the stairs, and onto your personal sanctuary. Your bento is half-eaten when Iwaizumi makes his presence known. You should’ve seen this coming.

“He’s worried about you, y’know?”

“I know.”

“He misses you.”

“I know.”

“...he wants to know if you’re avoiding him because of that incident.”

“...which one?”

“The kiss.”

You whip your head in his direction, giving Iwaizumi an incredulous and affronted look. Instinctively, Iwaizumi throws his hands up, signaling that you shouldn’t shoot the messenger. God, Oikawa could be such a clueless buffoon sometimes. You scoff and nearly snort. Iwaizumi looks about ready to tear his hair out.

“So the great king thinks that I’m avoiding him over something that we haven’t talked about that happened a few months ago?”

Iwaizumi can’t find the words when you slam your bento box down on the ground, chopsticks thrown haphazardly on top and almost rolling off the edges. Iwaizumi catches them as you stand up in anger and begin to pace in front of him.

“Who does he think he is? He’s got a decent following of fangirls to help stroke his ego, and I’m sure some of them are more than willing to worship the ground he walks on. His teammates practically idolize him -- sans you -- but he thinks I’m losing sleep over some kiss we had months ago? It would make much more sense if this had been a couple of weeks after that, but we’re talking months right now! How is it," you stop in your stride, bottom lip beginning to tremble as you look down at Iwaizumi. "How is it that he’s one of my best friends who’s known me for almost 10 years, a genius in his own way, but still can’t tell that I’m avoiding him because I’m scared of him?”

This time, Iwaizumi is confused.

“You’re scared of Oikawa?” He asks, trying to confirm what he just heard.

You let out a long breath, forcing yourself to simmer down and keep a cool head. Part of you feels guilty, yet another part feels justified for your actions. You were only protecting yourself; it was only natural.

“I’ve never seen him like that,” you begin, gingerly sitting back down next to him. The comfort of your best friend that you’ve been denying yourself of is granted as you rest your head on his shoulder. You link an arm around his as well as you begin to curl into a familiar position. Iwaizumi only naturally rests his head on top of yours, hands folded in his lap and legs stretched out.

“I’ve never seen him look so angry, even when that one kid in second grade tried to make fun of you. Or even when someone took the shit talking too far at an official game last year. But he was ready, Iwa-kun. He was ready to displace Tobio out of sheer anger and spite. I know he knows better now. I’ve seen how much better he meshes with you all on the court and attempts to bring the best out of everyone. But it’s hard to look at him sometimes and forget what he was then. What if he gets mad like that at us one day? What if he tries to hit you?”

What if he tries to hit me? is left unsaid, but they ring loud and clear in both of your heads.

“The idiot knows that I could take him down in a fight if it ever came to it. And since it’s apparently not obvious, I’m just letting you know that Shittykawa would rather throw himself off a cliff before ever laying a finger on you like that.”

“But how can you guarantee that?” You argue back, lifting your head up to look him square in the eyes. You want to see if the same hesitancy is reflected in his orbs, the same uncertainty that had been slowly building up in you as an ugly beast. Instead, his eyes are steady and full of promise, never straying from yours as he ends the debate.

“You can trust me. And if I’m wrong, I promise I’ll do anything to make up for it, though the chances are very, very low. They’re practically non-existent.”

And if Iwaizumi says so, well…then it probably is so.

“...I trust you then,” you comply, your head leaning down to rest on his shoulder again. “You better be right.”

“I know I am.”

Silence.

“If you’re not going to eat the rest of your bento, you should give it to him. He’d be happy to see you.”

A few sighs later, a couple of stretches, some steps down the stairs, you find yourself stuck at the door of their classroom. You can see him with his jacket on, head buried in his arms on his desk and turned towards the windows. Iwaizumi gives you an encouraging pat on the shoulder and you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Somehow you find yourself demurely sitting in the empty desk chair in front of him, hands clutching your bento box and chopsticks. Iwaizumi stands by you and watches as you quietly gulp.

“Tooru, wake up.”

Oikawa thinks he’s dreaming. More often than not, you had plagued his visions in sleep, often ending with you attempting to wake him up, but it had been spoken by his mother. He would be disappointed that it wasn’t you by his bedside trying to goad him out from under the sheets.

“Tooru, wake up. I have food.”

This is different. His eyes are bleary and caked with exhaustion, vision catching the light that peaks from under his elbows. Her voice is so close -- he has to give in and just look. Oikawa lifts his head and stares in front of him. He blinks once, then twice, then multiple times, and you’re still there. This is not a dream, he concludes. This is too good to be a dream.

You watch him warily as he attempts to gather his bearings. In the meantime, you open your bento and grab the last onigiri. When Oikawa begins to form the sounds for your name, you quickly stuff the rice ball into his mouth, causing him to give a muffled protest and use one hand to prevent the food from dropping. You watch with muted delight as everything begins to hit him all at once: the food in his mouth, you in front of him with a close-lipped smile, Iwaizumi leaning on the desk next to you two, the sunlight beaming through the windows.

His eyes slightly water, choosing wisely to not say anything for now. Oikawa dutily finishes the rice ball before you place the bento in front of him with chopsticks neatly arranged to the right of it. His hands shoot out to cover yours before they leave the bento, squeezing gently as he looks at you with apologetic puppy eyes. You can’t stop your smile from widening, and only then does Oikawa happily let go, thank the food, and begin to chow down with a gusto that had been missing for the last week.

Things are going to be okay. Unless that group of fangirls seething at you over in the corner is an indication of something otherwise.

-

You turn sixteen when Oikawa gets his first, real girlfriend.

It’s your first year at Aoba Johsai and Oikawa has captured the hearts of many people from around the area, be it still from middle school, or even some of the upperclassmen. Those who are engrossed in school volleyball were surprised to hear that he didn’t matriculate into Shiratorizawa. And because Oikawa keeps most everyone at arm’s length, only very few people know the reason why. It wasn’t that he was good enough to get in, that’s for sure -- it had mainly been him refusing to “serve” Ushijima. The Herculean boy can criticize his choices all he wants, but Oikawa will never step down from his pedestal willingly.

What no one knows besides Oikawa himself is that Ushijima was only 70% of the reason. The other 30%? He was not going to be the one that separates the trio. What a hypocrite he would be if he had left after having so passionately convinced Iwaizumi that the three of you would always be with each other.

Little do the two boys know that you had seriously considered going to Shiratorizawa. They knew how smart you were as you consistently placed in the top 5 of your class throughout middle school. What they didn’t catch onto was also how well you did in math club and chess club -- to be fair, they knew you excelled, they just weren’t sure of the details. Inquiries about your competitions were always answered in team format: we did well or we placed pretty high. The same existed for chess competitions -- you weren’t a national champion by any means, but you were still somewhat recognized. But again, the same answers were given: we all did well. Math club and chess club never had the public presence that other clubs did. Very few cared, and much less was said.

Before Oikawa pointed out how disgusted he was by the idea of going to Shiratorizawa, you had studied for their entrance exams in your spare time. You didn’t play any sports, so those scholarships were out of the question. It’d all have to be based on merit and you were ready to prove yourself. You had gotten past the first two rounds of exams without them knowing, and your nights only became longer and longer as the material increased in difficulty. But then the two boys talked about going to Aoba Johsai together since they were invited anyways, and not long after, you found yourself at the entrance of the testing center with Oikawa and Iwaizumi on either side, putting Shiratorizawa to the back of your mind.

Things are more brutal in high school. Subjects are more difficult, classes take more time, after-school activities often extend past the sunset. There are physically not enough hours in a day to spend nearly the amount of time you used to have with Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The fangirls increase, Iwaizumi’s irritation becomes more exaggerated, and Oikawa becomes too nice on the fan-service.

He’s the triple threat: smart, kind, an amazing volleyball player. You and Iwaizumi can only roll your eyes as he plasters on his fakest grin for the crowd of girls huddling around him, demanding his attention. A part of him is thankful that so many seem to admire him. As much as he won’t return the affection, he welcomes the non-stop stroking of his ego. It does wonders at keeping his insecurities at bay, even if he knows that everything is superficial and surface level. They think they know him, but only a handful of people truly understand his personality.

So when Oikawa announces on the train home that he’s taking a girl out on a date, you and Iwaizumi can only passively nod, thinking that nothing will come of it. Then the second date happens, the third, the fourth, and then the stamp of the label between the two.

“I have a girlfriend now, guys!”

“Like actually? Sounds fake to me,” Iwaizumi scoffs, Oikawa taking offense.

“You wound me, Iwa-chan! What do you take me for, a heartless player?”

“Somewhat,” you jokingly supply, eyes still trained on your notes from your biology class. You don’t need to physically see him to know that he’s pouting and threatening to stick his tongue out at you. “Who’s the poor girl?” You ask, not really expecting much.

“She’s in your class, actually. Tachi Misaki?”

Your eyes stop registering any of the text that you’ve written. How did you miss that? How did you miss the fact that the girl he’d been dating was sitting only two rows away from you?

“Well,” you reply, clearing your throat. “All I can say is that you’re shooting above your level.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad, plus she’s really smart and pretty. She seems kinda low maintenance, pretty chill. Makes pretty good cookies. You think I could get her to learn how to make milk bread? But only if she has time.”

A heavy sigh leaves you as you stick a pencil between the pages and snap the notebook shut. Iwaizumi looks deep in thought before asking, “You think you’ll be able to handle her?”

“I mean, I’ve been going out on dates with her up ‘til now. She seemed fine and said she knew how busy my training schedule was. Like I said, she’s chill. Doubt she’s ever going to be super clingy or anything like that.”

By this time, you’ve all arrived at Oikawa’s house. He waves goodbye as he enters the front door, leaving Iwaizumi to walk you home.

“I give it three months, max,” you tell him. It’s mean, but you know Oikawa. He’ll be the most caring boyfriend in the beginning, but then he’ll get too comfortable, too complacent. He’ll unknowingly rely on the other person to comply with his needs rather than continuing to compromise to meet theirs. It’s only a matter of time before Misaki realizes that.

“I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt...maybe he’ll finally wake up, y’know. He’ll have an excuse to stop putting in extra practice or do something other than watching Shiratorizawa matches ‘til 2AM.”

At that, you cast a disbelieving look at him, his eyes catching yours. It isn’t long until you’re both failing to keep your laughter in. Oikawa Tooru? Ditching the opportunity for extra practice? Over his dead body.

Your estimation comes to fruition when Oikawa lightly dunks his forehead to lay on top of yours during the train ride home. The three of you had been standing near a pole, your own arm linked around it for some balance as you review and scribble some extra things into your notes from class. Oikawa is hanging on by a handle while Iwaizumi is grasping the part of the pole above your head.

“Misaki-chan broke up with me,” he spoke, loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear as well.

“Did she say why?” You ask, unable to move your head as you stare at the flap of his jacket.

“Becauseimtooobsessedwithvolleyball,” he mutters quickly.

“Say that again? And louder?” Iwaizumi teases.

Sigh. Straighten. “Because I’m too obsessed with volleyball,” he repeats a little bit louder, looking slightly ashamed and embarrassed that he, the great king of the court, the sole subject of so many girls’ affection, was ultimately dumped. The other part of the embarrassment masked the guilt he felt inside, having taken advantage of Misaki’s affections for him. Your eyes meet Iwaizumi’s, knowing that the conversation from months ago wasn’t said for naught. The sad, inevitable truth was there, and someone had to say it.

“It’s okay, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi nagged, patting the bachelor’s back. “You gotta make compromises, too.”

“But she knew! And we went on dates. That’s compromises, right?” Oikawa bemoaned, stubborn and petulant as ever. “It’s not like she wasn’t warned…”

“How many times did you guys go on a date?” You ask, attempting to get him to see reason. You know that the truth is there. He’s just fighting against full acceptance.

“Mmm, three times. No, four.”

“Three times in three months? Jesus Christ,” you mutter under your breath. “Okay okay, um, what’d you guys do on the dates?”

“(Y/n)-chan, are you jealous? You wanna go on a date with me?” He teases, a pointer finger poking your cheek. You squint at him before (gently) slapping the back of his head, causing him to rub the area out of mock pain.

“Ya, do you want to die?” You threaten. “I will throw you off this train if I have to.”

“Can I help?”

“Iwa-chan! Why are you on her side?? Shit, I need new friends.”

“Good riddance.”

“Stoooppp!”

From then on, Oikawa swears off girlfriends in high school. Everyone is too busy, and no one is going to understand him and be okay with what he does. Volleyball is his passion and dream, why is that so hard to get through people’s heads?

(But he knows that as much as he protests, he couldn’t give Misaki what she wanted. He wanted to make it work, he really did.)

The horde of fangirls only grows over the years. He’d rather hold a torch for no one than to try again. Nothing mattered more than a victory against Shiratorizawa and moving on to nationals. The fangirls’ affection would make up for any lack of a love life and Iwaizumi can only shake his head as a trail of hopeful hearts are left in the setter’s wake.

There are times when Oikawa is incredibly thankful for you, that at least he has some sort of close female companion that’s not his sister or mother. Even if you’re busier than ever, you still make time for him and Iwaizumi, whether it be attending their late practices or making sure that they finish their homework over the weekends. They can’t play if they’re failing classes.

(Y/n)’s personality is what he wants in a girlfriend, Oikawa realizes one night. Someone chill, someone understanding of his lifestyle, someone who goes out of their way to spend time with him. Someone he feels a connection with no matter the distance, someone he wouldn’t hesitate to go to if they needed him, someone who would always, always be there--

But he can’t possibly date you. Why risk losing you when he already has you within his grasp? There’s no need to worry about making time or planning for dates, no need to worry about coming up with a gift for White Day (as if he already doesn’t). There’s no need to worry about you leaving him now when his ugly, petty side manifests from time to time because you’ve seen it all. You would never leave him, he reaffirms to himself. You will always be by his side no matter where he is. He can always count on you to be in the bleachers during games, front and center, with the rest of the school cheer crowd. He can always count on you to lend him a shoulder, to pick up the phone at 4AM when he’s woken up anxious with thoughts going at a million a mile, to hand him two slices of milk bread on the weekends from their favorite bakery, to keep him in line with Iwaizumi.

Why risk voiding himself of all that, of so many memories, just to pursue the chance for some more intimacy?

And as Oikawa’s fingers hover over his lips, his mind reeling with flashbacks on how that kiss with you felt even two years later, the last thing he registers before succumbing to the nothingness of sleep is the painful tightening of his chest.

-

Oikawa is seventeen when he is reminded of how easy it is for him to lose you.

The three of you are sitting on a checkered blanket on top of a hill that overlooks the nearby area. A plastic bag holds a mix of canned beers and hard ciders, some empty and others waiting to be consumed. You’re taking it a little farther than you usually do, typically sipping one through the night. Yet you’re on your third and the two boys can only look at you with slight concern.

Your finals were particularly difficult -- part of you had still been recovering from the vicarious loss against Shiratorizawa, knowing how hard your two friends had taken it. It had only caused Oikawa and Iwaizumi to spend even more time in the gym after practice, a ferocity and drive in their muscles that you had never observed before. The amount of time and energy it took from you to forcibly change and drag them away from the court was substantial. Sleepless nights were dedicated to thinking of ways on how to lift them back up from whatever mental hell they created for themselves. In a sense, those nights paid off, but not without a price.

The alcohol tingles through your bloodstream and seems to slow everything down. You’re not drunk, but you don’t think you could appreciate the scenery before you as much as you are now if you were completely sober. Oikawa is going on about the constellations in the night sky, Iwaizumi teasing him relentlessly, and you can’t bother to fight the lazy smile that stretches across your face. Would you still have these nights with them if you had gone to Shiratorizawa?

“Did you know,” you softly interrupt them, unable to keep the secret any longer. It’s been two years, surely it couldn’t hurt. “Did you know...that I would’ve gone to Shiratorizawa if it hadn’t been for you two?”

The sound of cicadas has nothing on the sudden pounding of Oikawa’s heartbeat. Iwaizumi has an equally flabbergasted look on his face, searching your own as you pull up your knees and rest your chin on top of them. The lack of a verbal response only makes you chuckle, reaching down to grab your can and take another sip.

“Evidently it didn’t happen,” you drawl and then giggle. “Be-because I’m obviously at Seijou--”

“That’s not funny,” Oikawa interjects, voice hard and stern. “That’s not funny, you don’t get to say that and expect us to laugh it off. Why the fuck didn’t you tell us?”

“Why does it matter so much?” You mumble, suddenly desiring for the earth to open up and swallow you whole. “I clearly didn’t go, okay? Jesus--”

“No!” The setter yells, his face morphed by rage. “You were going to leave us? Why would that ever get into your brain, I mean, did we do something? Did we do something to push you to do something like that?”

“Hey, dude, calm down--”

“Don’t you get it, Iwa-chan? She was going to leave us and go to fucking Shiratorizawa of all places! She--”

“I thought you guys were going to accept their invite, okay?!” You interject, exasperated and frustrated. Evidently, you made a mistake in bringing this up now. “I didn’t realize how much you guys hated Ushijima’s guts and immediately changed plans once Aoba Johsai was on your agenda. So just stop, alright? It was two years ago and nothing’s gonna change.”

Oikawa pauses and attempts to reign in his anger. Why hadn’t you talked about it with them at the time? Why can’t he stop thinking about you donned in their maroon and white uniform, sitting casually in the bleachers of the gym, and instead of waiting for him and Iwaizumi, you’re waiting for Ushijima? Why can’t he stop thinking about how wrong that image looks, how much he’d like to be there and snatch you away because you’re his, you can’t abandon him--

“I’m sorry,” you apologize so mousily. Oikawa glances and sees the glisten of unshed tears, immediately relaxing and feeling guilty for being so hot-headed. It was the alcohol, for sure, he rationalizes before he turns to face you, scooching as close as possible to you. You’re still sitting in a fetal position as he slides one arm behind your waist and another wedges between your stomach and thighs. He buries his head into the crook of your neck. Your body welcomes the familiar heat and continues to relax as Iwaizumi lays his head on your shoulder. Instead of tears of sadness, you can only bask in the realization of how lucky you are two have these two doofuses in your life. The tears spill over as you sniffle, overcome with emotions that could only be so pronounced under the influence of alcohol.

“I’m so fucking lucky to have you guys,” you blubber. Oikawa’s grip tightens for a second as a tacit return of affection. “And I promised, didn’t I? I promised that I’d never leave you two, so you’re stuck with me. I wouldn’t wanna leave, even if you made me try.”

That’s right, Oikawa remembers. You promised -- and you would never go back on your word.

-

Oikawa is eighteen years old when he begins to truly understand the extent of your selflessness and how much of a selfish monster he can be when it comes to you.

It’s the night of their loss against Karasuno High, their last chance at defeating Shiratorizawa now gone and irreversible. Though tears had been shed towards his teammates, an overwhelming amount of gratitude and pride to have gone down fighting their hardest, the regret was eating at the two boys like nothing else.

Oikawa’s mother is working late -- you met them at the doorstep when they returned from the team dinner, saying nothing but holding up a bag of their favorite desserts. Minutes later, the three of you are a tangled and cuddled mess with the television quietly airing some old rerun of a child’s cartoon. It’s only when the boys’ cries have dwindled down into occasional sniffling do you dare to speak.

“I’m so proud of you two,” you begin but already feel yourself choke up again. “You did nothing but your best. I know how much this meant to you guys, but this isn’t the end. Time doesn’t stop here and you’re gonna go on to be even better players in uni. So don’t give up, okay?” You ask, hands squeezing whoever’s arm or arms you might be holding on to.

“Don’t give up when there’s so much left to fight for.”

They know you’re right. You’re always right in times like these.

Iwaizumi leaves about an hour later, eyes brighter and a small shit-eating grin on his face after about 13 brutal rounds of Uno. He won the majority of them, thankful that there was something to distract him for now. Oikawa promises to walk you home soon since it’s so late, earning a glare that could only mean “You fucking better, you shithead” and waving him off. Such a worry-wart. But when the front door clicks closed, the silence takes over once again.

Oikawa stands from the couch and stretches, gives a few twists before turning to look back at you. You’re curled up with your phone in hand, probably scrolling through social media or catching up on the news. “Hey,” he calls for you attention and holds out a hand. Don’t do this, he tells himself. “There’s something in my room that I need to return to you. Come with me?” Only delight fills his veins when you nod and set your phone down on the couch before sliding your hand into his. They stay linked as he leads you to his room, only separating when he lets go and you take refuge on this edge of his neatly-made bed.

As childish as he can be, you forget how tidy Oikawa is with his room. The books on his shelf are meticulously arranged by last name, photo frames strategically and aesthetically placed in empty spaces. His writing utensils are carefully arranged in a row on the side of his desk, and his drawer looks much of the same. Stapler, tape, sticky notes and tabs are all methodically placed, somehow speaking true to his leadership abilities.

Your observations are cut short when Oikawa sits down next to you with a book in hand, one that you had lent him months ago. To be honest, you completely forgot that he had it and you make it known to him.

“But did you like it?”

He nods with a small smile, yet his eyes are staring at the wall with a faraway look. He’s contemplating something, drawing plans in his brain, and after a couple of glances towards you, Oikawa gives in.

Much like that Friday afternoon four years ago, he leans his forehead on yours. A wave of deja-vu crashes over you as you’re once again plummeted into the dark ocean of his eyes. He keeps his gaze steady, searching for any kind of resistance. He needs something that only you can give him.

“You don’t have to say yes,” he whispers. You can feel a shiver crawl up your spine at the heaviness in his voice. “But I don’t know who else to ask. I don’t know why I can’t think of anyone but you.

“So can I please kiss you?”

What?

“But why?” You ask, the confusion so obvious in two words. Oikawa can only sigh to himself before carefully maneuvering you to straddle him, facing no objection from you. It’s just a kiss, he thinks to himself. It’s just a kiss that he wants with no strings attached to help with the emotional turmoil that only you could begin to understand. Your heartbeat feels like you’ve been swimming against the current for hours, your body betraying you as you let him bring one of your hands to his cheek. His eyes flutter closed and he languidly nuzzles into your palm, lips placing the softest, most intimate kiss there.

“I don’t know,” he breathes. Your heart aches and aches. “I swear that all I do know is that it can only be you. Please, please let me have this.”

And you can’t help but nod.

Unlike last time, Oikawa doesn’t surge forward. He instead bides his time, lips only barely ghosting over yours as he holds onto your waist. The contact becomes progressively fuller, more purposeful, as he completely slants his mouth over yours. In response, your fingers tangle themselves in the strands at the base of his neck and he finds himself drawing you closer to him, arms now completely wound around your waist.

This is a sin, he has to remind himself. This is a sin that only benefits him -- he is taking, he is stealing, he is feeding on an elixir at the cost of your soul. But his desires only overpower his guilt because as devilish as he may be, the sin feels like heaven. A paradise made by you created solely for him.

He catches your bottom lip between his teeth before gently sucking, eliciting the most delicate moan from your throat. The sound only flips a switch in his head as he applies more pressure, desperate to hear it again. Mine, he thinks as he begins to litter kisses down your neck, teeth catching skin to leave marks on you. Mine, he screams to himself as his hands peek under the edge of your shirt, skin on skin.

“Tooru--” you pant, trying to lean back and gather your thoughts. This is too much to handle. If you’re not careful, you’ll unlock the only thing that you swore you’d take to your grave, the three words that could ruin everything.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps before diving in for another quick kiss. “I’m not asking for sex. I just need you,” he confesses, pecks littered between his words. Oh, how you wish this were under different circumstances. How you wish that you could utter those three words without a care in the world and know that they’ll be reciprocated. Your lips meet his again and it feels like the earth has stopped on its axis.

Both of you are unaware of the amount of time that passes. Fervent kisses slowly diminish to a languid pace until it comes to a complete stop. Oikawa can only lean his forehead against yours, eyes hooded and chest heaving with you in a similar state. Neither of you have enough energy to find the right words. His arms only draw you into his chest and he can’t help but marvel at how perfect of a fit you are for him.

“I should probably head home,” you whisper. Being the man-child that he is, he shakes his head vehemently and momentarily refuses to let you escape his embrace.

“Do you have to?” He tiredly grumbles, reluctantly loosening his grip with a sigh as you slide off his lap. You nod and bend forward to give him one last kiss, the separation causing him to whine. You make your way towards his body-length mirror, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles and fix your hair. Oikawa hugs you from behind, his limbs wrapping around your shoulders.

“We’re okay, right?”

You nod. Don’t we have to be?

-

And that’s when Oikawa Tooru begins to slip through your fingers.

It’s a combined effort, really. Everybody’s trying to wrap things up, all the big competitions are jam packed into the last remaining weekends, and making room for last-minute college entrance exams. If people weren’t already at their wit’s end, then you can barely fathom the amount of anxiety and stress coursing through the halls of the school.

You use this to your advantage, finding yourself unable to go home with the boys, unable to visit them on the weekends, unable to respond to text messages frequently. You begin to learn to look past Oikawa rather than at him, not bothering to spare a second glance when he’s caught in the hallways by a group of infatuated admirers. You fail to see the way his eyes follow your passing figure or how he slows his pace when walking by your classroom, hoping to get a glimpse of you. You fail to see the disappointment on his face when your spot in the bleachers is empty. So he falters, redirects, and lets the distance increase.

The only time you reconvene with the two is after the graduation ceremony. Your mother would kill you if you left without a picture of you and your best friends, and clearly their mothers are thinking the same thing. Outside in the courtyard, the women spot each other, your mother almost dragging you behind her. They’re trying to find their respective sons, though it doesn’t take long because the sudden clambering and screaming of girls can only serve a few purposes. Oikawa and Iwaizumi are craning their heads before they’re able to finally spot the frantic waving from their mothers.

Soon, they’re in front of you, both individually giving a hug. “Congratulations,” you tell them with as much happiness as possible. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see them -- you’re all attending the same university. They thank you and return the festivities. It’s hard to miss how your hug with Oikawa lasts a little bit longer than normal, even more so when his hands trail down your arms before slyly slipping a small object into your hand. As you unfurl your fist, a shiny circular object is gleaning back at you. You spot a stray thread from his jacket and it hits you -- the devilish fox has given you his second button. You’d like to pretend to be unaffected, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“And if I don’t accept?” You challenge. For a second, Oikawa is genuinely taken aback. It’s obvious he didn’t expect you to consider rejecting the button and stumbles over his attempts to come up with a comeback. When he spots you fighting to contain your laughter, his embarrassment only pushes him to lightly shove your shoulder.

“For being my best female friend,” he elaborates. You deserve an award for containing the pain and bearing through it, pretending that his words don’t faze you in any ways. Iwaizumi only shakes his head at his friend’s idiocy -- what is he thinking?

“Oh I’m sorry,” you apologize in a mocking tone, pretending to bow. “Should I be groveling at your feet now like the other girls back there? Oh great king?”

“Why yes, I am indeed the great king--”

Smack. “You’re such an idiot,” Iwaizumi reprimands. The recipient of the hit pretends to bawl, resuming his childish antics once again.

That’s how high school ends, with two aching hearts and three families of laughter, all making way for the start of university.

-

Oikawa somehow makes it possible to balance his love life, volleyball, and his business major. Both he and Iwaizumi blend in nicely with the university team as your words from before ring in their brains. They could and are becoming better players -- high school suddenly seems so casual compared to the stakes at the university level. Teammates are constantly being scouted and the two begin to strive for the national team. Despite the fact that they barely see you anymore, Oikawa still dreams of his ideal future: he and Iwaizumi playing for Japan in Tokyo, with you having a job there and supporting them in the stands.

Sometimes he’s able to spot you on campus -- the building for the pharmacy program that you’re enrolled in is relatively far from the business building. Most times you’re walking with your classmates, giggling at something or engaged in a heated discussion. He thinks about how beautiful you look in your white coat with your hair tied back, your face donned with some makeup for the natural look and a pair of dainty earrings. Part of him boils in jealousy whenever there’s a male acting particularly close with you, but he knows he has no right to think that way. The thoughts only fuel him during volleyball practice, which seems to satisfy his coach.

It’s easy for him to like someone, he figures out two years in. It’s easy for him to get to know someone and pick up on their quirks. As a social butterfly, it’s not difficult for him to get along with his partner, but when it comes to developing deeper feelings...it just doesn’t happen. He wants so badly to reciprocate, especially considering how much effort some of his past partners have put in. But something stops him every time -- unwillingly, he’s become a master at letting people down easy, that he’s truly sorry he can’t reciprocate their love. On the other hand, Iwaizumi is pretty successful in his current relationship, going strong for the last year and a half. Oikawa seeks his advice at the club one night, keeping an eye out to see if there’s anyone he'd be willing to take home (not that he ever does).

At this point, Iwaizumi wonders how he’s still friends with him. Yes, he’s fiercely loyal and has been by Oikawa’s side since the beginning, but if the guy was going to do nothing but continue his descent into idiocy, there was very little he could do for him. (Y/n) had the same problem as Oikawa except you figured it out much, much faster.

“You idiot, you’re in love with another person.”

“...say what now?”

“That’s all it is. You’re in love with someone else. That’s why you feel like you can’t say it back when a different person tells you they love you.”

“If I was in love with someone else, wouldn’t I know?”

Yeah. Oikawa Tooru is a big, bumbling, messy pile of denial.

“You know what,” Iwaizumi sighs, setting his drink down before paying the tab. “You’re right. You’re in love with yourself.” Oikawa knows that he’s joking. Nothing could be farther from the truth -- he’s always dedicated himself to the happiness of others. That’s the role of him as a setter and captain: to bring out the best of his teammates’ abilities, but he can only do that if he’s at his best as well. His eyes cast another look into the dancing crowd. He downs his drink as someone catches his attention, also moving to pay his tab.

“Tell your girlfriend I said hi!”

Iwaizumi only gives him a lazy wave as he makes his way to the entrance. Oikawa is sliding his way onto the dance floor and when Iwaizumi spots who he’s wormed next to, he hopes that one day, Oikawa will really open his eyes.

Because he’s always going for girls who look wildly similar to you.

-

It’s hard to have an undefeated season. Some losses are harder than others and during the first two years, you, sweet, sweet (y/n), always managed to find him.

He needed you most on those rare days. Even after weeks of limited texting and quick passings on campus, there was a level of comfort that solely existed by being with you. He would attempt to joke and tease with you to put up a facade, but when you would lead him to his couch and leave your arms open, the veil would drop as he cried into your shoulder. He would then pick up his terrible, terrible habit of giving into sin (as long as he wasn’t dating anyone), selfishly knowing that you would never say no. He’ll ask you if this is okay, and you always say yes. The two of you never cross the line of anything more than making out, yet the kisses become less lust-ridden and more tender over time, laced with something much more meaningful.

(And with each time, it becomes harder and harder to refrain yourself from confessing.)

Oikawa reveled in being able to sigh against your lips, stealing your breaths from your lungs and even convincing you to stay the night. There were mornings when he truly felt that there was nothing better than waking up with his arm around your waist. He could squeeze you to his chest and wish for this all day. Sometimes, you woke up earlier than him and silently admired how peaceful he looked compared to the haggardness just hours before. With his hair so delicately splayed across his forehead, the ends curling up to defy gravity, a tiny scar dusting his right cheek, you would be painfully reminded of just how much you love him.

The last time you woke up next to him, you thought to yourself, “I can’t do this anymore.”

In the beginning of the third year, you fight every cell in your body to not go to him. Instead, you call him up and ask how he’s doing -- he doesn’t question it, doesn’t demand that you come see him. If there’s something preventing you from visiting him, he won’t ask about it. Even only a call brings him the warmth that he usually craved from you, though he knows nothing can satisfy him like your physical presence. The routine continues, volleyball practice becomes longer, and Oikawa thinks he’s finally getting used to this. This is the farthest you’ll distance yourself from him. There’s no way that you’d ever be more than a train ride away.

“are you guys free for coffee this weekend?” The text reads in the group chat. (Y/n) knows they don’t have a game, one of the rare breaks they get. Oikawa and Iwaizumi have the same schedules, so when Iwaizumi texts back “yh, where at?”, it’s for both of them.

“our favorite cafe restaurant by the bookstore okay? 1pm? my treat?”

“sounds good. see you then.”

“see you guys xx”

They think nothing of it -- it’s just a rare moment that everyone is free and able to catch up. Both dress up in their best casual streetwear, Oikawa even donning the glasses that you like so much. He’s nearly buzzing with excitement at finally being able to talk with you and have you within arm’s distance. Everything is normal when they walk into the cafe, spotting you in the corner booth. You’re quick to match their grins and give them both hugs, watching in delight as their eyes take in the milk bread, agedashi tofu, and a few other shareable dishes. They’re starting to think this is a bit of an apology meal for not having seen them in forever. It’s nice that whenever the three of you are together, there’s no awkwardness and everything seems to be back to normal.

Like how it’s supposed to be. But all good things must come to an end, right?

“It’s so nice being here with you two,” you laugh as you lean back against the vinyl leather. “I’m glad we could do this.”

“We need to do this more often,” Iwaizumi agrees. “We don’t have as many classes since we’re juniors now. Practice is still always the same so we should have more time to meet up. What about you?”

“Same here. Actually,” you pause, hesitant and scrambling for words. You’ve even rehearsed what you’re about to tell them, yet everything has been forgotten.

“I’m...I’m applying to doctoral programs in America.”

The boys look like two deer caught in the headlights. Oikawa is immediately filled with a sense of dread and fear -- his worst nightmare is slowly transforming into reality, unearthing its ugly head. A train ride is one thing, but a 13 hour plane ride? Time differences? A whole different country on the other side of the world?

“That’s...wow. That’s um,” Iwaizumi clears his throat. “That’s a big move. Why did you decide on America? I thought you wanted to start working after?”

“I’m enjoying pharmaceutical research more than I ever thought I would. We just actually got back from an international conference a few weeks ago -- there were so many interesting topics and studies being done. And...I thought it’d be nice to travel somewhere, you know. Have a change of pace.”

And you’re not completely lying. You’ve never really been outside of Japan before. Part of you wants to travel and see more of the world, especially after the conference in Berlin. Famous structures and streets that had been mere images on your computer or phone screen were suddenly physically before your eyes. You wanted to gain a better grasp of what it could offer and what you’ve been missing out on.

The other part of you felt stuck here. You needed an excuse to end the never-ending cycle that was Oikawa. It was an infinite loop of running to him, falling into his arms, attempting to put an obstacle on the bridge between you two, but then crossing over it to fall back into his arms again. You were never close to being free of him, not that you wanted to, but you wanted to know who you could be almost nearly without him. You wouldn’t be you if you were completely void of Oikawa Tooru. He would always have a part of your heart and be a part of your soul, no matter what.

“When would you leave?” Oikawa timidly asks, his gaze directed towards the crumbs on his plate.

“I’m actually on track to graduate by the end of this academic year. If I find a research group that wants me and is willing to provide me with adequate funding...I’d probably leave pretty soon after graduation. Y’know, get settled, meet my group, and...yeah.”

Silence ensues as the two boys figure out what to say. Your leg is bouncing restlessly beneath the table, fingers quietly tapping the side of your cup. Iwaizumi seems to be taking it pretty well, but Oikawa...you can’t tell.

All emotion is wiped from his face. He’s choosing to pierce holes in the wall by your head and his arms are crossed in front of his chest. He’s trying so hard to be mature about this and be happy for you, yet all he can register is the fact that you’re leaving. You’re leaving them, you’re leaving him, you’ll be gone forever and you’ll never come back, you’re going to find new friends, a new partner, a new bed that belongs to someone else to fall asleep in, oh how wretched--

“We’re gonna miss you,” Oikawa says, voice barely any louder than the tranquil music playing over the speakers. You feel like you’ve been transported back to when you were ten and breaking the news of quitting volleyball, hearing the same four words spoken in a very similar manner. Your heart settles and softens, you relax and reach over the table to grab one of their hands in each of yours. Iwaizumi doesn’t hesitate to give a friendly squeeze while Oikawa’s grip is only limp at best. But after a few seconds, it tightens and tightens until you understand the message: please don’t go.

“We’ve spent our whole lives together. I’ve told you two this before and I’ll say it again -- I’m so lucky that I have you guys. Part of me is able to do this because I know you’ve always got my back and I know that’s not going to change, even when I’m halfway across the world. So keep in touch? Please?”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi reaffirms and Oikawa nods. You express your thanks and retract your hands, trying to ignore the way that Oikawa’s fingers linger for as long as they can without being too obvious. The three of you eventually leave, bidding goodbye to your waitress and cashier, and continue to amble down the streets. Time always flies when you’re with them, conversation never truly ending. Eventually Iwaizumi has to leave to meet his girlfriend for dinner and Oikawa, being the gentleman that he always is, ensures that he’ll bring you home safe and sound. As the two of you wave goodbye and watch him disappear into the crowd, Oikawa offers his arm to you. He sees the pleasant surprise on your face and can’t help the smile on his own as you wrap your hand around the crook of his elbow.

The two of you continue to chat -- you fill him in on all the little details of your life that he had missed. In return, he does the same, eliciting so many different emotions from you. The pain in your heart increases when you realize just exactly how far away you’ve been from him. You choose to ignore that he’s taking the long way to your apartment, relishing in this rare time you have with him. Oikawa is the only person to make you feel like there truly wasn’t enough time in the world to spend with the one you love.

This must be what it’s like to date you, he realizes. Your hand is still wrapped around his arm, even when the limb became tired and settled for tucking his hand into his jacket pockets. He drinks in every laugh, every scoff, every grin, every gasp of surprise. Very few things bring him greater satisfaction than the way your eyes sparkle when he buys one of your favorite snacks off a food cart or when he points out something that reminds him of you. He never wants you to let go -- all he wants now is to collapse into your bed and wake up with his arm around your waist once again.

Before he knows it, they’re in front of your door, fiddling with your keys. He leans against the wall by your door as you locate the right one, but you hesitate.

“This was really fun. Thanks for basically spending your whole day with me.”

“I wouldn’t trade it for the world,” he replies, unable to stop the words from flowing out of his mouth. “It’s been a while since we’ve hung out like this.”

“Yeah, it has been.”

Silence.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks with eyes full of hope. You’d have to be blind to not notice them, yet you would still be able to tell by the tone of his voice.

“Of course,” you reply with a small smile. “Until you get sick of me.”

Oikawa scoffs, but puts on a sincere face as he quips back, “Never.”

In all the years that you’ve been friends with him, nothing has ever sent blood rushing to your cheeks so fast. Your heartbeat quickens at an alarming rate and it doesn’t help as he begins to lean down, getting closer and closer to your face.

At the last second, he dips his head to the right and places a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek. Before you can blink twice, he’s already walking backwards with the cheekiest grin on his face, a cute little wave towards you. He then turns on his heels and makes his way to the elevator with a bit of a skip in his step.

You don’t even remember unlocking your door and toeing off your shoes. Your entire body feels like lead, yet also buzzing with excitement. And as you’re collapsed on your bed, staring at the ceiling, all your brain can comprehend and tell you is that Oikawa Tooru is truly the bane of your existence.

-

Oikawa does his best to stay true to his word.

Even with fewer classes, there’s always something that he needs to finish: that project, this homework assignment, extra practice -- sometimes, he wishes he hadn’t been in uni. Or at least picked a different major. When he can, he tries to visit you on nights, sometimes sheepishly empty-handed, other times holding a bag of your favorite pastries. “Are you trying to fatten me up?” You joke one night before biting into your favorite flavor of macaron. “More to hold and hug,” he teases back, causing you to give him a light whack on his arm.

He’s there when you nervously submit all your applications. He’s there when you receive offers to interview. He’s there when you get your first official acceptance. And of course, he’s there when you make your final decision. There’s no hesitation when you jump into his arms after submitting your confirmation of acceptance to University of California – San Francisco, though he wishes you could be there forever. Weeks begin to roll by, much quicker than he’d like. The usual cheery and joyful chattiness of when he usually visits evolves into comfortable silence, both of you settling for watching some space documentary on Netflix most nights. Oikawa hates how the inevitable is slowly creeping up his spine and more often than not, he’s torn between wanting to either just rip the Bandaid off or try to stop time.

The approaching reality of you physically leaving him starts to take its true form when you ask him to tag along on the hunt for suitcases. You want to get at least one of those large suitcases that have to be checked in to try to bring as much stuff as possible. The whole time, Oikawa is half numb, though he tries his best to give his honest opinions on the suitcases you consider. He knows what a big step this is as he watches you eagerly pay for your final selection. However, nothing hits him harder than when he comes into your apartment a week before your graduation and there’s a wide array of empty, mismatched cardboard boxes in every room.

To drive the stake in even further, the recently purchased suitcase lies wide open in your bedroom with some stray objects already neatly tucked in. Yet the one that catches his eye is a picture frame placed in a bubble wrap sleeve. It holds the physical memory of you, him, and Iwaizumi at your high school graduation, each person with their own bouquet of congratulatory flowers. There’s a reason you have this specific shot framed out of all the ones between the parents combined; reason being the fact that Oikawa isn’t looking at the camera lens, but rather looking at you.

His eyes glinted with pride and care in that picture, a certain softness in his posture. The picture has always sat demurely in a back corner of your desk. However, some friends or recent classmates that have been in your room have taken note of it, excitedly asking you, “Is this your boyfriend??” It’s more painful when you have to tell them he’s not, only just a very close childhood friend. A very close childhood friend that you’ve kissed multiple times and will always give your heart to, but you leave that part unsaid. .  

Oikawa spends the night with you, taking much longer than usual to fall asleep. You’ve already passed out next to him, mouth slightly agape and hands curled up near your face. Quietly, he adjusts his weight onto his elbow, leaning his cheek into his hand. His other hand gently tucks the strands of hair that have fallen over your face behind your ear. To him, you look nothing short of angelic. He hates that he’s only able to spend time like this with you as the clock is ticking -- he wishes that he made more of an effort to meet and see you during your first two years. Perhaps he wouldn’t feel so anxious at the thought of you leaving. Perhaps the two of you would’ve established something that would guarantee your return.

At this thought, Iwaizumi’s words ring in his head.

You’re in love with someone else, that’s why you feel like you can’t say it back when a different person tells you they love you.

They continue to ring as he finally falls asleep. They ring as he only wakes up hours later, settling on trying to quickly whip up breakfast for you. They’re loudest when you quietly pad up to him and rest your chin over his shoulder, nearly scaring the shit out of him. Even then, his body can’t help but relax from the feeling of your body pressed against his back.

Even as he prepares for his finals, you’re in love with someone else.

Even in the midst of presenting a final project for class, you’re in love with someone else.

All the way up until he’s parked in a seat, arms cradling a bouquet of your favorite flowers, tucked between Iwaizumi and your mother at your graduation ceremony, you’re in love with someone else.

And when he’s cheering his loudest for you as you cross the stage, pausing to shake the university’s president’s hand and receive your diploma, his heart finally settles on the unshakeable truth that he probably knew all along.

I’m so fucking in love with (y/n).

“I’m so fucked,” he mutters to himself, but not quiet enough because Iwaizumi catches it.

“What’d you do, shithead?” He leans in to ask so your mother doesn’t hear. Oikawa only shakes his head, his leg subconsciously beginning to bounce anxiously. Iwaizumi takes a look at the leg, then a look at his face, and when he catches how Oikawa’s eyes follow you happily ambling off the stage, the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. After years and years of living in pure oblivion, Oikawa has finally understood just how much he loves you.

“God, you have such shit timing, you dickhead,” Iwaizumi groans, fingers pinching and massaging the bridge of his nose.

“What did he do?” His girlfriend on his other side asks. He leans over to briefly kiss her cheek, murmuring a “I’ll tell you later,” in her ear before turning back to his best friend.

Oikawa feels like a nervous schoolboy with the way his face is construed, his hands grasping the flower stems like it’s his lifeline. He begins to think about how he should confess to you – should it be during a candlelit dinner? On the roof of your apartment under the stars? Should he take you to a park or by the beach? A million more scenarios run through his head as the rest of the graduation ceremony proceeds. He stands in a daze as the students begin to file out, the families in the stands soon following suit. His body stiffly stands to follow your family and creaks like a rusty robot, absolutely unprepared to face you with his new revelation. The only thing that brings him out of his head is when Iwaizumi yanks him back by the collar of his shirt, practically choking him in the process. His throat coughs and fights for oxygen as he rubs at his neck, watching your mother disappear into the crows before turning to Iwaizumi with a pitiful and defeated look.

“What the hell was that for, Iwa-chan? Why—”

“You are not telling her right now, you hear me?” Iwaizumi threatens in a hushed voice.

“But—”

“She’s leaving. In a week. To America. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Can’t that be for her to decide? She can turn me down, but I need to tell her!” Oikawa cries out as the three of them do their best to stay out of other people’s way, pressing themselves to their seats as much as possible. People are casting them either curious or nasty looks for being obstacles in an increasingly heated argument, but they could also care less.

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes at him, then stabs a finger to his chest. “What you want, what you need…it’s always been that way for you when it comes to her. Have you ever stopped to consider what she wants?”

“Of course I have, what do you take me for?!”

“What do I take you for?! I take you for an idiot who spent years taking advantage of her!” Iwaizumi drives his point by jabbing the finger on his chest again. “I take you for an idiot who knew that she could never say no to you and you still used her whenever it was convenient! You think you’ve been such a martyr—”  

“I didn’t do that! I—”

“Then prove it,” Iwaizumi hisses. “Prove to us that you genuinely care about what she needs. You know what she needs right now? She needs us, her friends, to go out there, find her, and congratulate her with flowers. Then, we’re gonna go to our favorite place with her family and celebrate her. Today’s about her and her achievements. We’re gonna be happy for her because that’s what she needs today. That’s what she deserves.”

Most of the crowd have trickled towards the lobby by now, leaving the three of them with a few student workers running around to pick up trash and stray programs in preparation for the next ceremony. Iwaizumi sighs, seeking comfort in the way that his girlfriend slides her hand into his. Everything that he had been holding in is now out in the open.

“You think you can do that, Tooru?” He asks in a calmer voice.

“…yeah.”

Oikawa tries his best to keep his feelings at bay. They threaten to spill when your eyes drink in the bouquet he’s brought for you, a pure smile of delight as you lean in to catch a whiff of your favorite flowers. It’s even harder when you give him a friendly peck on the cheek, quickly moving to give Iwaizumi and his girlfriend hugs. He can’t stop sneaking glances your way during lunch, watching how happy you seem to be as you verbally recall the last three years. His mind does its best to stay involved in the conversation, yet it doesn’t cease to drift towards Iwaizumi’s words. It’s heart-wrenching because everything he said was true – he had knowingly taken advantage of your lack of resistance, had knowingly acknowledged that he was committing a certain sin in life, driven by greed and desire. He knew years ago that he could never get enough of you and would never be able to.

“…your plans after this?” He hears your mother ask you, her voice reminding him to be an active participant in this chat.

“I kind of just want to go home and get out of this dress, probably start up my packing again. I had to put that on hold with finals and everything.”

“We can come help you if you want.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I might even take a nap first.”

“You can take a nap while I help you pack,” Oikawa interjects without a thought. He just wants more time with you. You look skeptical and he puts on an affronted expression. “I’m a really neat and organized packer, thank you very much. You think I’m some poor slob who can’t properly fold a shirt?”

“It’s exactly what I think.”

“Hey, don’t be so mean! I’ll prove it.”

“Fine,” you say with a smirk widening. “But I’m kicking you out if it isn’t up to my standards.”

“Yes ma’am!” He replies like a soldier, comically saluting with two fingers. Iwaizumi shoots him his best warning glare as the table resumes chatting.

About an hour later, the two of you are walking side-by-side in the direction of your apartment. The pace is slow with your heels on, especially as they become more and more painful. Eventually, you let out a big huff and stop in your path to slip off your heels, picking them up by the straps and letting them hang off your fingers. Your gown, stole, and chords are draped over your other arm, the other hand holding onto the cap and flowers. Oikawa watches as you sigh happily and wiggle your toes before you continue the trek barefoot. He’s terrified that you’ll get a staph infection and stops you.

Without saying anything, he takes the graduation gown from your arm and fits it over you, thankful that the bottom of it nearly reaches your ankles. Your arms have a mind of their own as they slip into the sleeves. He crouches for bit and fiddles a little bit before pulling your zipper up, then takes your cap and fits it onto your head. Before you can question his actions, he sweeps around to lift you up in his arms bridal style, causing you to yelp at the sudden motion. One of your arms is already swung around his neck, the other just trying to make sure your heels, chords, and stole don’t drop. Oikawa adjusts his grip a little, then looks down at you.

“You okay?”

You’re incredibly flustered, saying nothing but giving a few nods. He gently smiles before bringing you closer to his chest. Eventually, you place everything into your lap, leaving your other arm free to lie over the flowers on your stomach. You have an internal battle with yourself on whether you should link your free limb around his neck or not – do you want to come off as clingy? Would Oikawa mind? Would it make him uncomfortable? You soon decide, fuck it. You just graduated, you deserve to be pampered a little bit, even if it means treating yourself to indulging in one of your longtime fantasies with the man you secretly love.

Even though your face is already pretty close to his, by wrapping both arms around him, you’re practically nuzzling into the side of his neck. He smells faintly of the cologne that you gifted him last year for his birthday. It brings you fond memories of your life with him so far, how even through all the pain of unrequited love, every second has been absolutely worth it.

“Thank you,” you murmur and tighten your grasp. “For everything. For being my best friend, for always being there for me.”

“You don’t need to thank me, silly,” he replies affectionately. “You know we love you, right?”

“I know. I just wanted to make sure that you knew how much I appreciate it, that’s all.”

“…I’m so proud of you, (y/n). Look at you, finishing in 3 years and going to California for your PhD. Maybe I should’ve tried harder to convince you to stay in Japan, but I know you wouldn’t have been as happy. Is it too late to still try to persuade you?”

You unwind an arm to smack his chest lightly, playfully scolding him as you fully hold onto him again.

“Don’t even think about it. Of course it’s too late.”

“Well, then there’s no harm in still trying, right?”

“Tooru!”

“Okay, okay, fine~.”

-

Once you’re home, you grab random articles of clothing from your closet before heading into the bathroom to change. Oikawa offers to find a vase for the bouquet during this time, your ears hearing the clinking of glass and the snipping of stems. You didn’t realize you had grabbed Oikawa’s spare jersey he had given you the summer before your first year of university, only noticing after you begin to fit it over your head. The flush in your cheeks is subtle as you slip on a pair of pajama shorts, a giddy feeling filling your chest.

When you step out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen, Oikawa’s back is facing you as he continues to arrange the flowers. Something about the scene feels comfortably domestic, as if Oikawa just returned home from work and decided to surprise you with a little gift, insisting that he put it together for you. You’re almost expecting him to give you a kiss on the cheek before saying, “I’m home, dear.”

In the midst of your thoughts, Oikawa is satisfied with his work, grabbing the vase and turning with the intent to let you see his work. He startles when he sees you leaning against the wall and staring at him, yet his heart fails to calm once he realizes you’re in his jersey. Part of you suddenly feels shy with the way he can’t stop admiring you, yet another part is filled with newfound confidence. Your feet softly pad towards him, relishing in the fact that you can render the great Oikawa Tooru speechless. He lets you take the vase from him, still frozen in his spot as you gently place a kiss on the corner of his lips. If he were more composed and more cognizant of his actions, he would have taken you up in his arms and kissed you for real. You take the vase from his fingers and place it on your dining table, appreciating the delicate hue of the petals. It’s a shame that you’ll have to get rid of them soon since you’re leaving in a week.

“Come on, Tooru. Time for you to show me how good your shirt-folding skills are!”

Progress in packing is slow as the two of you talk and laugh, the sound of The Good Place quietly playing on Netflix from the small TV in your room softly filling the room. Eventually, Oikawa refuses any of your help, practically ordering you to stay in your bed and leave it to him. In the familiar warmth of your comforter, you fight to stay awake as exhaustion from the morning events creeps through your body. Before long, you’re taking a last look at Oikawa’s side profile sitting on your floor next to a pile of unfolded clothes and falling asleep soon after. It takes a few minutes for him to realize that you haven’t said anything in a while, only chuckling to himself when he sees you slipped away to the dreamworld.

For the next hour or so, he folds and packs your clothes in silence. The pile dwindles and shrinks until there’s none left, though there’s still some in your closet that you’ll be wearing over the next week. You’re still asleep on your side – he can’t find it in himself to wake you, instead doing his best to climb over you and sit on the empty side of the bed without jostling you. Just as he finds a comfortable half-lying, half-sitting position against a pillow and the headboard, you unconsciously do a full 180-degree turn and snuggle closer to him. One of your legs twists around his, your arm slinging over his waist.

Oikawa’s heart almost wants to fly out of his chest. Had it really been over a little more than a year since you last slept next to him? Was this going to be the last time that he’d experience this?

Was this going to be his last chance?

He must’ve nodded off in the end. Your voice speaks to him in his subconscious, softly calling out his name. His body is curled up on the side where you were sleeping, arms stretched out as he finally wills his eyes to open. His vision is blurry and heavily veiled with sleep, needing a few blinks to register that you’re bent over with your face very close to his. He wants to be wakened like this every day, to the sound of your voice rather than an obnoxious alarm tone from his phone. With all the strength he can muster, his arm reaches out to grab one of your wrists and gingerly pulls you towards him. You giggle as you snuggle into the little space you have, his arms hugging you tightly to ensure you don’t fall over the edge.

“Five more minutes,” he pleads, nuzzling into your hair. “Or we can go back to sleep, I don’t mind…”

“Tooru, we need to eat dinner though.”

“But I have you,” he mumbles without thought, clearly saying whatever first comes to his mind.

“That doesn’t make any sense though.”

“It makes all the sense in the world, silly (y/n)…come on, let’s sleep some more…”

“Even if there’s fresh omurice waiting to be eaten?”

“Mmm…did you make it?”

“Yes, I did.”

Oikawa sighs again before moving his hand from your back to rub his eyes. “Well, we can’t let your hard work go to waste then, right?”

“Not at all.”

You disentangle yourself and ignore how your body aches to lay with him again. Your hands take one of his own in your grasp, pulling him from the bed and towards the dining table where a fresh plate of omurice awaits them. Oikawa doesn’t forget his manners, pulling out a chair and indicating for you to sit in it. Like a true gentleman, he’s cognizant of how he pushes the chair back in to meet your sitting position, ensuring that you’re comfortable before moving to his own seat. The two of you say your thanks quickly before digging in.

Dinner is a quiet ordeal besides the occasional laughter. He tries to play footsies with you underneath the table, having full advantage with his longer legs. You threaten to flick rice at him if he keeps at it, but as time passes by, it’s clear your words hold no weight. Light banter continues when you bring the plates to the sink, refusing any offers of help from him. He settles for having an arm around your shoulders, leaning some of his body weight onto you. His eyes watch you with love and fascination as he berates himself for not figuring it out earlier. Things would have been different, and life would have been much better.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he murmurs, tone solemn and heavy as you begin to dry off the dishes.

“I know. But I’ll be back in a few years, you know?”

“A few years sounds like forever though.”

“It’ll be over before you know it, Tooru.”

“I know, but…”

“But what?”

He’s still searching for words when you’ve put the last plate in the drying rack, folding the towel neatly on the counter. You turn to face him directly, causing his arm to slide off your shoulders. He delicately grasps your hands with his and plays with your fingers, eyes focused on them and unable to meet your own. Iwaizumi’s warning voice blares through his head – why, why did he always have to be so selfish when it comes to you? Why did he always give in?

“Tooru, what—”

“I love you, (y/n).”

He’s gone and done it now. His eyes are ablaze with passion as they attempt to convey the depth of his feelings, boring straight into your own shocked gaze. He means it more than anything right now. You have to understand that he’s serious, that he doesn’t mean this in a platonic sense. Without a doubt, he would do anything for you. Could you see that in him?

He begins to panic when you slowly detach your hands, your expression hardening before you turn to occupy yourself with something else. You search for something before heading towards your living room and start packing the decorations into a cardboard box that’s cradled against your hip.

“(Y/n), please—”

“You don’t mean it,” you bite out and somewhat harshly smack a book into the box. “You’re only saying it because—”

“I’m not saying it just because you’re leaving, I swear,” he vows, following you as you pack away more things. “Just look at me—”

“How could you?!” You say accusingly, slamming your box onto the floor and whipping around to look at him. Oikawa isn’t entirely surprised by the tears streaming down your face, yet his heart still breaks at the sight.

“(Y/n), I—”

“What were you expecting?” You ask hoarsely, throat choked with tears. “Did you expect me to just accept it and run into your arms?! We’re going to be on opposite sides of the world for at least four years, and you wanted to start something with me a week before I leave?”

“I can’t lose you!” Oikawa cries out. He watches you collapse into your couch, head buried in your hands to control your sobs. He follows and sits as close as possible in front of you on the floor, reaching up to remove your hands from your face. “I can’t lose you more than I already have,” he whispers dismally, thumbs wiping tears from your cheeks. Out of fatigue, he places his cheek on your knees, eyes closing as you lay your hand on top of his head.

“Tooru, you—”

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he interrupts, striving to get you to see how much this is for him. “I never knew what it was until recently, but you have to know by now that I would do anything for you. You can call me up at 4 in the morning, ask me for my umbrella even when I’m 20 minutes away. You could even ask me to drop volleyball, and I’d do it. Just to make you happy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you depressingly chastise as your fingers give in and demurely run through his hair. “I would never ask you to give up volleyball, and even if I did, you’d resent me til the day we die. Hell, you’d resent me in your grave for all I know.”

“You’d still be my everything.”

At his words, you choke out another sob. This had been everything you were dreaming of, except Oikawa’s timing was just so off. You would have to spend the first four years of your relationship without him, and long distance wouldn’t be easy. Even though he would do everything to make it work, you’d worry about burdening him when he has so much he wants to live for. Wouldn’t it affect his playing? His studies? Would he eventually get tired of waiting for you and leave?

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” You sniffle.

“The chance of a lifetime, that’s what I’m getting into,” he quickly replies. He turns to rest his chin where his cheek originally on, facing you with eyes of zero hesitation. His expression softens when he senses the doubt in your face and reaches up to remove your hands from his hair, grasping them softly and placing them on your thighs. “I’ve already wasted years not being with you, and I don’t intend to lose another second. So please, please give me this chance.”

Your head is dizzy with all this information. You need time, you need clarity. You need to think this out before diving in, no matter how much you want to comply right now.

“Let me think about it, ok?” You weakly propose. “This has happened all so fast and I just need some time to think it over. This is really big for us, and I just wanna make sure we’re doing the right thing.”

“I’ll wait forever if I have to,” he agrees, then ghosting his lips over your knuckles.

“You can’t see me until we’re at the airport though,” you add in, causing him to whine in objection. “I’ll give you my answer then. It’s just a week.”

“Can I still call you?”

“Of course, you big wuss,” you tease.

“Hey, I just confessed my feelings here, cut me some slack!” He cries, pouting afterwards. You somehow still have the energy to giggle at his antics, happy that some things never change.

“You need to leave soon, Tooru.”

“No,” he objects and wraps his arms around your legs. “I don’t wanna.”

“Tooru—”

“Only if you kiss me before I leave.”

You let out a sigh, yet still smiling. “Deal.”

He removes himself and gets out of the way, stretching as he stands when you push yourself off the couch. Even for the short distance from the living room to the door, Oikawa insists on holding your hand. He grabs every second he can with you, still holding on when he’s slipping his shoes on.

“I’m waiting for my kiss,” he says with a lilt in his voice. His eyes are shining and expectant, causing you to roll your own playfully. For the first time in 21 years, you’ll be kissing Oikawa with no feelings hidden, no motives unsaid.

He meets you halfway, softly cradling your cheek with his free hand. His lips against yours bring a wave of nostalgia – god, how you both missed this, the feeling of being able to lose yourself in another person. How you both missed forming that bubble again where nothing mattered but the two of you being there together. You can’t help but think about how much you’re going to miss this in America, how it’ll be months, years, before you can ever fall into Oikawa’s arms again.

Oikawa wants nothing more than to toe his shoes off and have you jump into his arms. He wants nothing more than to carry you to your room and show exactly how much he loves you, but it’s not in your wishes. Don’t be selfish, he reminds himself. You asked for time and space to think about your future with him – if he wants to make this work, thinking of solely his own desires needs to stop here. He must prove to you that it’ll be worth it, that there’s no reason to lose any more time than you’ve already lost.

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” he apologizes quietly.

“It’s okay. But consider this week as punishment, if you’d like.”

He pouts. “I really can’t come see you?”

You give a small grin, a pointer finger moving to tap his nose. “Nope.”

With that, he sighs begins to walk out the door, but not before stealing another peck. The action only makes you laugh and playfully push him over the door threshold, waving as he walks backwards with a pout. You don’t close the door until he’s turned the corner, nearly collapsing against it once the deadbolt is locked in place. Everything hits you all at once again, leaving you reeling and almost gasping for air. Your heart won’t cease its rapid pace, though it seems to come to a full halt when your phone chimes with a text message from him.

“Good night, (y/n). I love you.”

Yes, it’s amazing how lucky you are.

-

Without fail, Oikawa texts and calls you every day. He never fails to remind you that he loves you. Twice, he orders delivery to your door because he knows you need to pack your kitchen. A man who buys you food as a surprise and seems to always know what you’re in the mood for? It’s as if the universe is telling you to hurry up and marry this guy.

And Oikawa, trying to be the responsible person that he is, doesn’t see you until they’re sending you off at the airport. Your parents had offered to pick him and Iwaizumi up from his place, especially since it was a little early in the morning. A taxi drops you and your suitcases off at the gate. You hadn’t spotted them when you got in and made a move to go ahead and check your bags in. After you had finished dropping them off, you had turned around to wait outside of the check-in area and spotted the four of them chatting while waiting for you. Even with it being so early in the morning, you can’t help but break out into a smile at seeing them, speeding up your pace as much as you can with the carry-on suitcase lugging behind you.

“Thank you, guys, for coming all this way,” you express your gratitude while embracing Iwaizumi and Oikawa.

“What kind of shitty friends would we be if we didn’t?” Iwaizumi asks as you move to hug your parents. Your mother keeps an arm around you at the end, already fighting her tears.

“Mom…”

“Do you have everything you need?” She interjects, voice choking up. “Phone? Wallet? Passport? Boarding pass? New SIM card? Emergency cash?”

“They’re all here,” you say, pointing to the locations of each item. “I’m gonna be okay, mom.”

“Don’t hesitate to call us if you need anything, ok?” Your father reminds you. “We’re only a call or text away.”

“I know. I’ll try to make it home on the holidays or something, but if not, I’ll be back in a few years at least.”

“What if you end up meeting someone and want to stay in America with them?” Your mother sniffles, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

“Well,” you hesitate, casting a quick look towards Oikawa. When his gaze meets yours, you begin to feel more confident about the answer that you settled on yesterday. You know he’s anxious to find out what you’ve decided. “I’m sure that’s not going to happen. Can I have a minute with Tooru please? Alone?”

Your mother’s eyes widen in realization before she’s quick to shoo off your father and Iwaizumi. Once they’re out of earshot, Oikawa looks at you expectantly.

“Do I get my answer today?” He inquires, removing his hand from his jacket pocket to hold one of yours. You take the initiative to interlace your fingers with his, giving a tight squeeze.

“Mmm,” you hum while fishing out your phone with your free hand. Oikawa watches anxiously as you tap and scroll through something, breath baited as your eyes seem to light up at finding what you need. You turn the screen to him and ask, “Does that answer your question?”

At first, he’s confused. Oikawa sees a contact page open and automatically notices it’s his number. It’s not until his vision drifts back to the top of the page where his name usually was. In the past, it had been “crappykawa” with a smiling emoji, but to his delight, it now reads “the boyfriend­TM”.

His excitement prompts him to lift you from the waist and spin you around in a few circles. You shriek and shake with laughter as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck to hold on, your eyes closed tightly until he puts you down. Even then, he doesn’t detach himself from you and leans down to kiss you sweetly, never wanting to let up. It doesn’t matter that you’re leaving him in the next few minutes – he’d rather have this than nothing at all.

Minutes later and after more teary goodbyes, you walk through the line towards security. The four of them watch as you exchange pleasantries and answer questions by the guard checking your boarding pass and passport. Once you’ve been cleared, you turn around once more to give a final wave, before disappearing behind the gray walls. After you pass security and find somewhere to eat a quick breakfast, you check your phone. There’s a Snapchat from Oikawa that you immediately move to open. It’s a selfie taken at an angle where his phone would’ve been in his lap. He has his characteristic pout on his face and the caption reads, “i already miss you, my love.”

And at that moment, you know, you can feel it with every ounce of your being, that everything is going to be okay.

-

(epilogue)

Months after you moved to California, Oikawa received his invite to play for a professional volleyball team in Argentina. He consulted his closest friend, you, his coaches, and they all agreed on one thing: he’d be stupid to turn it down.

It wasn’t the Japan national team, but it was definitely an opportunity of a lifetime. He greatly admired the national Argentine team as a child, and that admiration never wavered. On the plus side, it would make the long-distance relationship easier with you, as the time difference would be cut significantly.

The relationship experienced its ups and downs. Some main recurring themes of contention involved his tendency to overwork himself and your frequent late nights in the lab, as well as your disregard for your physical and mental health during times of high stress. They were issues born out of love and care, and they were worked on to help each other improve. You’d always livestream his volleyball matches and he would attempt to stay up with you on a video call if you were in the lab or up late studying, reminding you to drink water and eat something nutritious.

Oikawa found time to visit you during rare extended breaks in the off-season. He’d always make sure that you two would video call Iwaizumi together, wearing a shit-eating grin when Iwaizumi would pick up the call and roll his eyes. In return, you saved up and visited him in Argentina, though only able to stay up to a week at most. The new life was a little difficult and strange, but he made it work. He loved his teammates, he loved you, he loved volleyball, and he couldn’t ask for more.

You finished your doctorate in four years, just as you had predicted. You already had a job lined up before graduation at an academic hospital in Tokyo, allowing you to practice pharmacy and continue research. Not only that, Iwaizumi also earned a position in the top volleyball team in Japan, leaving Oikawa to be ecstatic. His personal dream from so many years ago was finally coming together – the three of you together in the same city, and him and Iwaizumi on the same superior team, even if it meant playing with Kageyama Tobio and Ushijima Wakatoshi. But he’d get used to it eventually.  

When you first returned to Tokyo, you were happy to see that not much had changed. Oikawa had another couple of years in Argentina before he would return to Japan and join Iwaizumi on the team. A few weeks in, you were already enjoying your job immensely – the only thing missing was your boyfriend.

A year has passed, and you are currently sitting at home in front of the TV with a mug in your hands. You’re dressed down in your comfiest sweatpants and Tooru’s jersey from university days. A white gold chain holding a simple silver ring hangs daintily around your neck as a token and symbol of a promise. You check your phone and frown a little – Tooru hadn’t texted or called you all day, though he did mention he would be busy with preparing for an upcoming practice match. You’re now worried that Tooru’s overworking himself again, holding the device now to send a quick text reminder to take breaks and stretch afterwards.

You toss your phone to the side and try to focus on the humorous game show, picking up on how ridiculous some of the antics were. American game shows had nothing on the ones here in Japan.

Someone rings your doorbell. At first, you think it’s the postman dropping off a package you had been expecting and make no move towards the door. But the doorbell is rung once again, leaving you to hesitantly approach the entrance. You peek through the spyhole and spot a young man outside, hat slipped on backwards, glasses perched on his nose, and hands stuffed into his pants pockets. He’s looking away from you and has suitcases around him, but you can recognize that side profile from anywhere. Could it be?

You fumble with the lock and throw open the door as your heart threatens to beat out of its chest. The young man finally looks up at you and you gasp as tears spring forward to your eyes.

Oikawa Tooru is standing right in front of you with the most beautiful smile on his face that you have ever seen.

He’s ready to catch you when you squeal and run into his arms, dissolving into laughter as you blubber into his neck and attempt to make sense of what’s happening. Tooru spins you around a few times for good measure, relishing in the comfort of your body against his. It had been too long since he last held you, and luckily, he’d never have to wait that long ever again.

His invite came as a phone call not too long ago, personally from the coach of the team that Iwaizumi had joined. They were willing to wait for him if he wanted another year in Argentina as he had originally planned, but Tooru decided that it was time to come back. He had buzzed with excitement as he planned out his great return, wanting so badly to surprise you. It’d go down in the book as one of the best reveals of a major life change for the two of you, and he wanted it to be perfect.

“How—what—when—I have so many questions!” You stammer, hands reaching for his face to make sure that this is real. Tooru leans into your palm, eyes catching the glisten of the promise ring that he had gifted you two years ago. He was a little worried that it wouldn’t be noticeable enough (“I need people out there to understand that you’re spoken for!” “What are you, a prince of the medieval days?”), but he did appreciate how beautiful it looked when you wore it as such. The happiness he feels right now is more than he could have ever imagined, especially now when he can finally look into your eyes and say the words that he’s been yearning to speak for years to you —

”I’m home, (y/n).”

-

fin.