#like i said so much stupid sappy teenager bullshit

[pearlpool]

🤕❣️❣️ AUGH

[2dmenenthusiast]

Fire's Cool, Revenge is Better

Aizawa x Villain Reader, Dabi x Villain Reader

Listen I know I write for Aizawa a lot but I just love him :( But there's some Dabi in here to add a lil somethin somethin. ALSO I kinda kept this open in case ya'll wanted a part 2? There's no guarantees, but if enough people want it I might consider it

Summary: Meeting Shouta on rooftops was always fun and games until he thinks you're going to set him on fire.

Word count: 2.9K

Warnings/Other Info: Swearing, sexual themes, very small mention of assault, age gap, reader used to be his student but that was years ago and the reader is an adult in this so don't worry lmao, reader is kept gender-neutral, reader's quirk is spontaneous combustion (they can set things on fire just by looking at it)

This fic is intended for adult audiences, so minors DNI

The breeze felt good against your face, eyes gazing at the night sky as you sat on the edge of the roof of some random corporate building you couldn’t remember the name of. You briefly looked down at the street below, watching pedestrians walk along the sidewalk as cars drove by, and you idly swung your feet as you rummaged around in your jacket pocket before pulling out a pack of cigarettes. The sound of traffic at night was always relaxing to you, having lived in the city most of your life. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to sleep without the distant noise of a car honking. The idea was honestly kind of unsettling, and you thought maybe a part of you liked it because the bustling of the city was comparable to the constant racing of your thoughts.

Letting out a huff, you checked the time on your phone as you placed a cigarette between your lips, looking at the end of it and feeling a slight pressure behind your eyes before it suddenly lit up and you took a drag. He’d be here any minute now, having memorized the schedule for his patrol. You’d been thinking about what you should say to him when you finally saw him but realized there was no point. There was no “preparing” when it came to Shouta Aizawa. You knew whatever you wanted to say would be thrown right out the window when you saw his piercing gaze, so you decided you’d just wing it. Not like that was unusual for you. You’ve been winging it most of your adult life, purely acting on impulse.

You heard a soft rustling behind you, smirking as you knew exactly who it was by how quiet they were. If you hadn’t committed his habits to memory, you probably wouldn’t have heard him. You heard him take a few steps towards you before suddenly stopping, and you let out a soft chuckle as you took another drag from the white stick, blowing the smoke into the air and watching it slowly fade.

“Took you long enough. Almost thought you wouldn’t show,” you said, a playful lilt to your voice as you stood and turned to face the erasure hero.

The city lights illuminated his shocked expression, eyes slightly widened as he took you in before his gaze narrowed.

“Y/n… what are you doing here?” he asked, the low timbre of his voice sending a pleasant feeling up your spine.

You shrugged, that familiar mischievous look in your eyes as you swiveled on the heel of your boot and began to pace. “Oh you know, just thought I’d get some fresh air, get a good look at all the pretty lights.” You paused, eyes hooded and a smirk tugging at your lips as you glanced over at Shouta. “Meet up with a certain hero.”

He audibly sighed, clearly not interested in whatever game you were playing, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread over your face. You didn’t meet up like this often, but when you did, it was always fun getting underneath his skin. It had been almost a year since you saw him last, and you swore he always looked different when you would see him. Maybe it was the circles under his eyes getting darker, or the new scar he acquired between visits, but you knew none of it mattered. This was still Shouta, a man you grew close to during your years at UA. Though, it all seemed like a distant memory now.

“So, how’ve you been, Sho? Still catching bad guys and putting ‘em behind bars and all that?”

“I have half the mind to do the same to you.”

“Oh, we both know you wouldn’t. You like me too much to see me locked up,” you said, taking a few steps closer to him as he stared at you with a pointed look. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to smile when you’re around me. You don’t always have to be so stoic and brooding.”

“What reason do I have to smile when being around you always gives me a headache?” he said, voice void of any emotion as you winced and placed a hand on your chest.

“Ouch, Sho. That actually kinda stung. I thought my presence was quite enjoyable.”

“You need to stop this, y/n.”

You raised an eyebrow, only a foot of distance between you now as you reached forward and lightly tugged at his capture weapon, feeling the fabric between your fingers before he swatted your hand away.

“Stop what? My general villain tomfoolery or annoying you?”

“Both. We both know you’re better than this.”

“Am I?”

You looked at him for a moment before letting out a scoff and taking a step back, shifting your gaze from him as you took one last drag from your cigarette. Throwing it on the ground, you stomped on it with the toe of your boot and turned to move back to the edge of the building, arms crossing over your chest.

“Fuck, hate it when you make me think about all this dumb, sappy shit. Can never let me have my fun, huh?” you huffed, tongue poking the inside of your cheek. “‘You’re better than this,’ fucking christ. If I had a damn dime for every time I heard that I’d be fuckin’ rich.”

You heard him sigh again. “Y/n-”

“Don’t ‘y/n’ me!” you yelled, spinning around as you felt your anger flare up, and your eyes landed on a red-eyed Shouta, his black hair floating in the air.

You both just stood there, gazing at each other until his hair eventually floated back down to his shoulders and his eyes stopped glowing, and you let out a humorless chuckle that eventually turned into a full-blown laugh, clapping as you doubled over.

“Oh, Shouta!” you cheered, arms out at your sides as you backed up towards the edge of the roof. “How glad I am to know that you have so little trust in me. What? Thought that I didn’t have my anger under control?” You took another step, heels peeking over the edge. “Thought I was gonna blow something up?”

“Y/n, don’t,” Shouta said, fists clenched as he stepped towards you.

“Don’t what, Sho? Jump?” You looked over your shoulder down at the street below, knowing that a fall from this height would certainly kill you. “Why not, huh? One less villain for you to deal with, right? One less inconvenience for you.”

“You really think that little of yourself? You think I want this?”

“It’s what everyone else believes. What the media spews out daily without any fucking semblance of the truth. The League… those guys are messed up, but they’re still people. People that society abandoned when they gained some gross fetish for heroes. You’re just their pawn, you know? They don’t give a shit about you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Maybe not,” you shrugged. “Maybe I’m still that naive student in your class, dreaming of being a big-time hero one day just like All Might.”

You moved your foot back, feeling nothing but empty space underneath it as you slowly let yourself fall back, your heart jumping up in your throat and your stomach in your chest. Your other foot was almost off the edge until you felt something wrap around you and you were pulled into a sturdy chest, and you looked up to see Shouta staring intently at you. Something between concern and confusion in his eyes, or maybe a combination of both. The corners of your mouth twitched up into a sad smile, reaching up to lightly trace the scar under the hero’s eye with the tips of your fingers.

“You’re not like them, Sho. You’re so much better. You don’t let the bullshit and lies cloud your judgment. You’re just… you. In all of your cynical and stubborn ways.”

Your hand moved to his stubbled cheek, feeling your eyes begin to well up with tears. He looked so tired, constantly burdened with the responsibility of being a hero and a teacher, dealing with rambunctious kids all day. And there then there was you, that same student that ran away all those years ago, just giving him more trouble than he needed. Maybe it was time to end this little “game” once and for all.

“I suppose I’ve never made things easy for you, have I? Always causing trouble in school… guess that attitude carried into my adult life, huh?”

It almost made you cringe calling yourself an adult in front of him. You half expected him to laugh in your face and remind you that you were just a kid, but he remained silent, gaze softening when he noticed the moisture build up under your eyes, and he removed his capture weapon from around you.

“I… I just wish I could run away sometimes,” you whispered, both hands holding Shouta’s face as a tear rolled down your cheek. “There’s nothing here for me. Though, I don’t think I’d be able to when you’re here.”

Despite how confident you were earlier, you felt like crawling into a hole at that moment. Your confession made you sound like a stupid love-struck teenager, which is the last thing you wanted him to see you as. It didn’t really matter what he was thinking, though. The way he was looking at you already made you feel like he was judging you. You sniffled and pulled away, arms wrapping around yourself as Shouta reached out for you, your name on the tip of his tongue. You shook your head.

“Don’t, just… I know I sound dumb. And I know it was stupid of me to think that…”

You sighed, memories of being in his class flooding your mind. You weren’t always so troubled. You had a few friends you got along with, but other than that you usually remained quiet. That excluded your outbursts, though. Something or someone would set you off, making some off-hand comment about how you didn’t belong in UA, and you would just vibrate with so much rage that something nearby would suddenly burst into flames, and it only made them tease you more.

That was until Shouta took you under his wing. He began teaching you how to control your quirk and use defensive techniques that didn’t involve setting anything on fire. It was the first time in your life that you felt like somebody cared about you. You were on your way to becoming a great hero. That all changed when you saw how corrupt hero society really was. Your mother worked at a pro hero’s agency, working her damndest to put food on the table for your family until there was an incident at her work with her boss, and his pro hero friends covered it all up to protect him. You remember how upset you were, blowing up the tv when you saw his smug face on screen talking to the press. It got so bad you almost destroyed a whole city block. You ran away before the police could find you, packing a bag and promising your mother you’d avenge her before setting off on your own, leaving before you could finish the second half of your third year at UA. Then the League eventually found you and took you in. No, you weren’t interested in destroying heroes like Shigaraki and his crew, but you were determined to expose them. Uncover all of the dirty truths they had all kept hidden away from the media so that they could keep their perfect image and have their fans worship the ground they walk on. It all made you sick, getting so angry and upset that you could practically feel the vomit wanting to crawl up into your throat you would get so nauseous just thinking about it.

Despite your different goals and his hate for pretty much everyone, Dabi and you got along quite well, surprisingly. Maybe it was only because of the similarities of your quirks, but regardless, you were glad to have a companion. While UA taught you how to control your quirk, Dabi helped you unleash it, realize the full potential of your powers, and your face would glow with wonder and exhilaration as you set the world ablaze. You ended up kissing him one night, so full of adrenaline and desperate for some sort of outlet for all of it that you found your lips firmly planted on his, and he was more than okay with it, gripping you tightly against him as he pried your lips open with his eager tongue.

You thought that’d be the end of your little transgression, but you were wrong. On more than one occasion, one of you would end up falling into the other’s bed, and you would be nothing more than a pair of tangled limbs and desperate touches as you both tried to feel something. You didn’t really view each other romantically, simply using each other when you needed a release. But despite that, you thought Dabi was beautiful. He would laugh whenever you told him that, saying you were too fucked out to think properly. But you meant it. Every time. Whenever you’d lay your head on his bare chest and lightly trace the edges of his scars, muttering those simple words into the air, and they would weigh heavy on him. You didn’t know, but he’d think about those words well after you’d retreat to your own room, puffing on a cigarette and trying to banish every and any thought of you. Besides, he knew your heart belonged to someone else.

You looked up at the sky, feeling Shouta’s gaze still on you before meeting his eyes with a smile, but there was no joy behind it. “I suppose you think I’m pretty pathetic, huh?”

“I think you’re troubled, y/n,” Shouta said, taking a step towards you. “I think you need help. Guidance.”

“There is no helping me, Shouta,” you muttered. “I don’t think I can believe in being a hero anymore after what happened.”

“I’m not asking you to. But believe in me. Believe that I want the best for you.”

His words made you pause, swallowing the lump in your throat as you shook your head. “I do believe in you… I just don’t believe in the society you represent.”

Shouta sighed, lips pressed tightly together as he regarded you with an almost unreadable expression, but you knew what that look was. It wasn’t disappointment, but regret.

“It wasn’t your fault, Sho. You were the only one who was ever really there for me, and you were the only person who went looking for me when I ran away. You cared about me. And that’s the only thing I could ever ask for. I know you might think that you failed me, but you helped me. You taught me how to control my abilities,” you paused, letting out a short breath. “but someone taught me how to use them. And until people know the truth… I won’t stop.”

Shouta looked like he wanted to say something when you heard a shout from below, walking towards the edge of the roof and seeing the League waiting for you on the sidewalk. Toga waved excitedly when she saw your face, and you smiled and shook your head before going back over to the older man. You reached forward hesitantly, hand brushing over his chest before bracing yourself against him as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth. When you pulled away, you swore you might’ve just given everything up for him at that moment. He looked so vulnerable, so open like you could reach right into his chest and rip his heart out and he wouldn’t care. But with another distant shout of your name, you were snapped out of your reverie and you moved away from him.

“Don’t come looking for me, Sho, and don’t try to stop me either. I don’t wanna hurt you, but if you get in my way, you’ll leave me no choice,” you said, giving the hero one last look as you turned to walk away, but stopped when you heard him call out your name. You glanced back at him, a brow raised in question.

“You’re making a mistake. This won’t change what happened.”

You hummed, slightly nodding as you smiled bitterly. “You’re right. But maybe I can stop it from happening to other people.”

Sparing him one last look, you took a deep breath and jumped from the roof. The ground rushed to meet you as the wind hit your face, and before you could hit the pavement, a pair of arms caught you and gently placed you on the ground. You looked into those electric blue eyes, letting out a small hum as you lightly punched Dabi’s shoulder.

“Thanks, sailor,” you said with a wink, and you playfully bumped your elbow against Shigaraki as you walked between the two men.

“So, how’d it go with lover boy?” Dabi asked, his hands shoved into his pockets, and a bitter taste filled your mouth as you thought about the mentioned hero.

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again anytime soon.”

If Dabi saw the way your jaw clenched or the flash of anguish in your eyes, he didn’t say anything, just simply threw an arm around your shoulders and let you stumble into his side. You didn’t know when or if you’d ever see Shouta again. But if you did, you wanted him to give you everything he got.

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

promise [connor m. x reader] pt.2

because i think this is a fitting end to this story. actual notes at the very end of this post, after the fic.

warnings: general swearing. this is a part 2 to a fic on @pacman-tattoo though.

12:23 AM   connie: you still awake? 

12:26 AM   connie: babe.

12:35 AM   connie: i’ll be home soon, ok?

12:36 AM   connie: traffic is weirdly fucking awful rn and i wish you were here

12:37 AM   [y/n]: sorry, i’m here. i was almost asleep.

12:38 AM   connie: sorry

12:39 AM   [y/n]: make it up to me <3

12:39 AM   connie: i will

With a quiet hum, you left your phone back on the nightstand where it had been charging up until the vibrations against wood had pulled you out of your state of near-slumber. Connor rarely worked late, but sometimes he was roped into cleaning more than just the bar itself. It was temporary, he told you over and over. Eventually, he’d get his stupid book of stupid poetry (his words, never yours) and maybe he could go from there. Write more books, make things work, and one day he’d be staying at home and writing poetry while you continued to be the breadwinner once you were out of school for good (your words, occasionally his). Sure, working in an office when you weren’t swamped with classes and making pretty okay money in the meantime hadn’t been your plan originally, but... things happen. Life changed. Connor was a constant for you, though. True to the promise he made to you almost six years ago at eighteen, he never disappeared again. Not the way that he had used to. Sure, there were fights, and he would leave you alone in the living room while he shut himself up in the bedroom and dealt with the flow of emotions that rammed through him, but things worked out. On the worst nights, he’d come back out to find you asleep on the couch, and he’d end up waking you up and the two of you would fix things. He opened up to you, slowly and surely, and things worked. It was hard, certainly, but... the two of you made it work. 

And now you were lying in bed in the little apartment that you shared, waiting for him to come home from bartending (Connor Murphy, working in customer service? You never could fully believe it, but he managed) and to climb into bed next to you, and maybe the two of you would talk until you fell asleep. 

The sound of jingling keys from the living room caught your attention almost half an hour later, followed by the slamming of a door, and then heavy footsteps. Before you could call out to him, Connor came in through the door, fighting his way out of his shoes, his jacket, his jeans, and soon enough he threw himself directly into the space next to you. For a moment, he was hardened by whatever bullshit he’d faced during the day, but one look at you was enough to soften his gaze.

You sat up, reaching out to brush his hair from his face. “Long day?”

“The fucking worst.”

Despite the aggravation in his voice, you chuckled. “You wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head, hopping back up. “It’s stupid shit,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.” But he paused before he could move away, dipping forward to press a kiss against your lips. “It’s fine,” he said again. “I promise.”

As he walked away, you merely watched as he began to strip out of his clothing before changing into a faded band t-shirt that often was used by one of you as a sleeping shirt. You admired him for a moment. Six years ago, he was... thinner. Bonier. Ever since things had shifted between the two of you, he’d put on a bit of weight (enough to become less of a bean-pole and more... okay) and he generally seemed brighter, if you were honest. Maybe that was what getting out the Murphy house did for him. He’d cut his hair, although it still stayed long enough to hang in his face if he wasn’t careful. As much as you missed the long locks, you were happy. He’d begun taking care of himself. He had his off days, and you knew that, but he seemed to genuinely be trying for you, and he was trying for himself, too. 

“You like the show?”

You couldn’t help but snort. “Maybe I do,” you reached toward him, doing grabby hands. “C’mere,” you whined quietly. “I wanna cuddle.”

He scoffed at the notion, but climbed into bed next to you a moment later nonetheless. Instead of folded into your arms, he pulled you closer, wrapping himself securely around you, cocooning you in his warmth. The faint smell of his cologne still stuck to him, and you happily buried your face in his neck before pressing a soft kiss against his skin.

“Sometimes,” his voice vibrated in his chest, and although you went to move, he kept his hold on you. So you relaxed into him, and he continued, “I think about when we got together.”

“Mmhm?”

“I was dealing with a lot,” he said, lowering his voice. “Fuck, you know how many problems I had, and...” He paused for a moment, nuzzling his face into your hair just for a second. “And I’m glad I got help.” He corrected himself barely a second later, “I’m getting help.” When you didn’t respond, he continued on, “I’m glad it’s working.” 

“I am, too,” you admitted against his skin, and he hummed in acknowledgement. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He ran a hand up and down your back, and the motion soothed you slightly. “I was scared I was depending on you entirely,” he shut his eyes. “I thought that if you weren’t here, I couldn’t be happy. But... I got better,” he said. “I’m better. I have... friends,” he said after a moment of hesitation. “I’m writing. I’m not fucking paranoid all the time. But...” He drew away from you, hands reaching up to cup your face, smushing your face slightly. “I do have you. I’m glad you stayed.”

“Someone’s sappy tonight,” you pulled a hand away. “I’m glad you stayed, too.” 

“Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you,” he said, and the air grew tense for a moment. He... wasn’t being sappy, he was being honest. “But, I think... I think now I’ve learned that even with my bullshit, I... I think I deserve good things, sometimes.”

“You do,” you reached up to trail a thumb along the apple of his cheek. “Just because you fucked up and got angry at people and dealt with a lot doesn’t mean you’re not worth loving.”

He chuckled, and he said your name gently. “No wonder you’re trying to become a therapist.”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his own for a moment. “I wanna help people,” you said. “I wanna help teenagers like you who needed it. I didn’t give up on you then, and I don’t want to give up on my future patients.”

“Even if you’re not what they need?”

“Especially if I’m not what they need,” you said. “I’ll find them someone else. Just because I can’t help them wouldn’t mean that I can’t help them find someone who can.”

There was softness in his eyes as he kissed you gently. No more scent of cigarettes and the taste of smoke (he’d given that up long ago, just so he could have longer with you), but he still held the same warmth he did the first time you kissed. “I love you.”

So you settled into his arms after giving him one last kiss. “I love you, too, Connor.”

-

So... I’d like to take a moment to talk, since, uh, it feels right to. 

I started writing musical reader inserts back in 2017, shortly after my 17th birthday, and the first one I wrote was a Connor Murphy fic titled “Promise.” Which... is why I feel that this is a fitting ending for my writing. I don’t remember the last fic I wrote for this blog, but I never felt completely satisfied in saying “I’m done writing reader fics for musicals” since... nothing felt like an ending. 

Of course, I’ll still sorta be lingering around this blog if anyone wants to DM me or send in an ask, but I’m not gonna write anymore. I sorta stopped once I got to college since I didn’t exactly have the time to do it as often anymore (and I sorta lost interest in writing for musicals, actually, since I do write elsewhere sometimes), but... that’s beside the point.

A... lot has happened since I posted that first fic. I dated someone for the first time, ended things with them, and then I fucked up majorly with some things that happened afterward. I’m still atoning for it, and maybe I never will fully do so, but it’s one of my deepest regrets. Of course, I’ve... learned I’m not the only person at fault in the situation (more like I was manipulated, but I’m not going to deny my own part there), but I think coming to the realization that I wasn’t alone there... helped. I lost a few friends, and I kept everyone else for the most part. For a really, really long time, I always wondered why. I had fucked up so majorly, I couldn’t comprehend why my friends stayed with me.

And... It’s because we love each other. I fucked up, sure, but... they knew who I was as a person. These people didn’t abandon me because they saw me for who I am. I explained what happened, I showed anger and frustration and melancholy for everything that I (and the other person at fault) had done, and... they weren’t going to cast me out in my hour of need. I had made the group chat we all met in, and I tried to take an interest in everyone as best as I could. I became a different person when I was with my ex, and... and I never want to be that person ever again. I was petty, and spiteful, and when I look at who I became, I realize that I’d been changed for the worst. I like to think I’ve gotten better, and maybe that’s because of the stupid fucking trauma making me realize my place. 

But... I love my friends. I love them so, so much. I don’t think I’d still be here if it weren’t for them. It’s been a pretty wild ride, and I’ve written so much for these fandoms (although admittedly not in recent years) but... I’m proud of what I have done. I love writing so, so much, and it’s always going to be a part of who I am, no matter what route I end up taking. While I can look back on some of my writing and laugh because it’s cringe-y and clumsy and I’ve definitely improved, it’s still something I did. 

Even if this post doesn’t get a single note, I’m... still proud of what I’ve done and how far I’ve come, and I thank anyone reading this for coming with me on this journey. Please, take care of yourselves. Be kind. It’s okay to have bad days: even flowers need a little rain to grow. 

But most importantly: love yourself and love the people that want you to be better. 

Thanks, gamers. Feel free to hit me up anytime.

~ Minerva “Minni” @mango-juiiice

[brokutosan]

Title. We Are Your First, Last, & Only Line of Defense Against This World of Scum

Pairing. Seijoh 3rd Years x Platonic!Reader

Summary. In which growing up is hard, but it’s a lot less harder if you’re doing it with the bestest friends you could ever ask for in the world (and Oikawa Toruu). Or; a journey through the friendship of the third years of Seijoh’s volleyball club.

Warnings. Manga spoilers up to chapter 395. Lots of cursings and mentions of anxieties about growing up. Kind of incoherent and mostly ramblings + not much dialogue, but I’ve been enjoying writing these types of things. Full disclosure: this is completely based on that official art of them at a karaoke bar. Title is from Men in Black by Will Smith.

Oikawa Toruu was 6 years old when he was crying about some kid stealing his pudding cup. And Iwaizumi Hajime was 6 years old when he dreamt of becoming a cop once he grew up, so he sought to bring justice for Oikawa’s pudding cup. L/N Y/N, also 6 years old, had declared that she would marry Hajime once she was old enough to, so she thought it was her job as his future bride to be his partner in solving this crime. (Oikawa Toruu could care less, he just wanted his pudding cup back).

Long story short, Iwaizumi Hajime ended up scuffling with said kid after he called him “stupid porcupine head” and Y/N jumped in the fray to save her future groom, while Oikawa jumped in to reclaim his pudding cup. And that was just the start of their long series of getting into trouble together.

When Oikawa Toruu was 14 years old and in his last year of junior high, the ugly green monster had reared its head and caused hostility between him and a certain kouhai. Y/N, always the kind one, had called him out on his bullshit and told him to get his act together. Oikawa fired back and called her out on her “pathetic crush on Iwa-chan,” effectively setting off the cold war between them that lasted all of summer. Iwaizume recalls having to go back and forth between the two because they refused to be in the same room together.

By the time they were 15 years old and entering highschool, the two ended up being in the same class. Oikawa pretended not to know her and hung out with “Makki” from his volleyball team. Y/N tried branching out and making friends with the other girls in her class for once, but she was shunned out for being close to the Oikawa Toruu back in middle school.

Their three months of silent treatment ended on the second week of the new school year, when Oikawa was enraged by the nasty rumors spreading about his childhood friend. Some guy Y/N rejected during the third day of school had spread rumors that she was involved in a reverse harem with Oikawa and Iwaizumi and that he didn’t bother going out with her because she was “too easy.”

Oikawa, 15 years old, threw the first punch. Iwaizumi, also 15 years old, held back his friend until Oikawa shouted out, “This bastard’s running around calling Y/N-chan a whor-” Oikawa didn’t need to finish because by then Iwaizumi had thrown the second punch. Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro, both 15 years old, tried holding back their two new volleyball teammates.

And that’s how Y/N and Oikawa tearfully made up, and the two, “Mattsun” and “Makki”, as Oikawa affectionately named them, joined their little friend group. Y/N ended up joining the volleyball club as a manager per Oikawa’s request (command) and finally everything was back to normal, with everyone forgetting about the “cold war” between Oikawa and Y/N.

It didn’t take long for Hanamaki and Matsukawa to fit into the group because anyone that could tolerate Oikawa deserves a reward (and that reward is the friendship they’ve built over the years, but none of them actually liked to get sappy).

By the time the five friends were 16 year olds in their second year of highschool, Oikawa has made a name for himself as the great setter of the Seijoh volleyball team. The other three were close behind in terms of popularity, but none were quite as open with it as Oikawa was. Y/N, on the other hand, did not get to enjoy the joys of the glory brought by the four players. She made heads turn, but the sight of four glowering boys right behind her made them turn back.

But there were a few exceptions.

Y/N was 16 years old and in second year of highschool when she got her first boyfriend. It wasn’t Oikawa, or Iwaizumi, or Hanamaki, or Matsukawa, no, it was a fellow second year in the same class as her (she was lucky enough not to be put in the same class as any of her idiot friends that year).

All five of them have forgotten his name now, but when they do talk about him every now and then, he was given the affectionate nickname, “Pighead.” Because two months into their relationship, Pighead had the nerve to demand Y/N to completely cut off her four friends.

Because she was young and naive and under the illusion of puppy love, Y/N was thrown into a dilemma. She mulled over it for weeks, lost sleep over whether or not she should comply, until Iwaizumi snapped her out of it and made her spill what was bothering her.

Once the four boys found out they offered to wipe Pighead off the face of Earth, but Y/N just cried and apologized for even just thinking about cutting off her amazing friends. They had a sleepover that night and Y/N still remembers it as one of her best childhood memories.

(Because of that one incident Y/N had decided to completely cut off immature boys from her highschool days).

Come their third year of highschool the five were as close as ever (and Oikawa, regrettably, much more annoying). They’ve built up seemingly unbreakable bonds that would last a lifetime, and Y/N was glad that she was able to take part in it. Having the four boys throughout her teenage years certainly was enjoyable, and she wouldn’t trade the memories and years of friendship they’ve attained for anything in the world. As long as she had the four of them (even Oikawa), she believed she could face off anything and anyone in the world.

When Y/N began worrying about college and growing up, they were there to help cheer her up. When the boys lost to Karasuno in the Prefectural Qualifiers, Y/N was there to cheer them up. She still remembers the tearful afternoon spent in the gym they’d spent three years of their lives in. And despite not being as hurt as the boys were after losing, Y/N had found herself shedding a few tears of her own. As they closed the gym doors one final time, they’ve also closed the doors to their childhood.

Teenage years go by, and as quick as they’ve entered highschool they found themselves graduating. Growing up. Taking the next step into adulthood. The four boys she came to love as her found family were now four men, and they’ve done well growing up.

And just like that tearful goodbye at the Seijoh volleyball club gym, Y/N finds herself preparing for another one. All five of them are adults now. Iwaizumi is going off to California to study in an American university, Oikawa’s going to Argentina to play volleyball, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa are moving to Tokyo together to study in a university. For once in her life, Y/N finds that she’ll be all alone in Miyagi, while her friends take the next few steps to growing up.

The five of them find themselves in Hanamaki’s childhood bedroom, for one last weekend sleepover before everything changes. They’ve strewn out blankets and pillow on the floor, and are laying down in a circular formation. They’ve been in this bedroom hundreds of times, in this same exact position, but now it’s completely different.

All his posters of celebrities are taken down and wrapped neatly on a pile sitting on his desk. His clutter of figurines and plushies collected over the years are in boxes, ready to move with their owner. His closet is empty, the clothes inside stuffed into their own labeled boxes. And his volleyball jersey that’s usually hung by the door is no longer there, no doubt already packed somewhere safe. Y/N tries not to dwell on the somberness of it all, and instead forces a laugh when Matsukawa makes a joke.

Y/N realizes she messed up when four pairs of eyes turn to look at her. “I know I’m a riot, but that joke wasn’t even that funny. I’ll admit to that.” Matsukawa speaks up.

“What’s on your mind?” Iwaizumi finally asks. His arms are behind his head and he’s staring up at the ceiling, no doubt lost in his own train of thoughts.

Y/N contemplates if she should ruin the peaceful vibes surrounding their group. They’ve already cried tons after losing to Karasuno, so do they even have any tears left for a goodbye? Y/N looks to her left and realizes all their attention focused on her, waiting for her to answer Iwaizumi’s question.

“Nothing. Just that maybe this’ll be our last weekend together.” She sighs, letting her emotions get the best of her. “We’re all going our own separate ways, who knows what could happen, y’know?”

It’s Oikawa that reacts first, but that’s no surprise since he’s Oikawa. “Y/N-chan! Are you trying to say you’re gonna miss me?” He asks with comical tears in his eyes. Y/N immediately regrets speaking up.

“I think I might miss you the least.” Oikawa feigns hurt at the comment, but he knows his friend better than anybody. ‘I’ll miss you more than you could even imagine.’ Is what she’s trying to say.

“Oi. No more crying.” Hanamaki finally says something. He can see the tears forming at Oikawa’s eyes, and a few that already shed from Y/N’s, before he feels the familiar burning sensation in his throat. “Damn it.”

“Nothing’s gonna change. We’ll all keep in touch, plain and simple.” Matsukawa announces, almost as if he was sure of it. “And if anyone,” Iwaizumi adds, looking directly at Oikawa, “decides to be a dick and try to cut us off, we’ll all personally fly out to South America to kick his ass.” A chorus of ‘yes’ sounded out as Oikawa gasps at his friends’ reactions.

“Why does it always get violent with you, Iwa-chan?!” He whines like a child, causing an outburst of laughter from the other four.

Hanamaki notices Y/N staring off into space again before he sighs, placing an affectationate hand on her head. “Relax, loser. It’s not like we’re gonna totally forget Miyagi. If anything me and Issei are gonna come back home more than you think. You’ll get tired of us eventually.”

Y/N wipes a few stray tears and nods, finally showing a genuine smile. “I’ll kill all of you if you even try to forget about Miyagi.”

“Impossible.” Iwaizumi says with a gentle smile on his lips.

-

The next morning the five friends make their way to Narita Airport, where Oikawa’s flying off to Argentina to become a better player. Their eyes are bloodshot red from staying up all night crying and reminiscing old memories together.

The walk from the parking lot to the boarding gate is quiet, until Oikawa breaks the awkward air between them. “When I get back, I’ll wipe the court with Tobio-chan.”

“You’re still not over that? Grow up.” Y/N glares, suddenly remembering their childish fight during their last year of junior high. Hanamaki laughs first, followed by Matsukawa, and finally Iwaizumi. The people around them stare strangely as five teens laugh with tears streaming down their eyes.

“Try not to miss me too much, ‘k, Y/N-chan?” Oikawa winks, just barely dodging the fist swung at him. A boarding call for Oikawa’s flight fills the airport, and they finally remember why they’re there in the first place.

“I’ll miss you guys.” He finally says seriously, tears freely falling down his face. Y/N cracks first, flinging herself to his awaiting arms and cries as she realizes this is his goodbye. Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi follow, forming a group hug in the middle of Narita Airport.

Oikawa pulls away, dragging a sleeve to wipe away his tears. He opens his mouth to say one final goodbye, but is interrupted by a plethora of voices overlapping each other,

“Try not to make your teammates hate you too much. Make some friends.”

“Don’t even think about calling me at midnight about your stupid problems.”

“If you come crying to me about your knee, I’m just gonna say I told you so.”

“Once you get back, I’ll be sure to give you hell.”

“Oi, what kind of curse are you all placing on me?!” Oikawa whines, the somber atmosphere replaced by their usual energetic one.

With one last ‘goodbye,’ Oikawa strides towards the airport gates, and away from the ones he’s grown to love over the years. He looks over his shoulders, taking a mental picture of all four of his closest friends waving and giving him nods of encouragement so that he’d never forget what he’ll always have back home.

The world can throw anything it wants at them, but as long as they had each other, nothing’s ever too scary or too tough.

A/N. Thank you for reading this totally self-indulgent fic with my fav third years! A Miya twins version of this fic is in the works! Also, I’m thinking of making a mini series off of this oneshot where you chose a route with one of the boys (romantically). Let me know if you guys would also be interested in that. - chuu

[zankivich]

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 10

*y/n’s point of view*

The VMAs are important. Important because it’s the launching pad for the rest of awards season. Important because, despite the lack of legitimacy of the show anymore, the general public still tuned in. It was a valuable opportunity to get your artist where they wanted to go. And the VMAs was Normani’s night to make it or break it, which meant it was your night to make it or break it. Everyone was tuning in to see what would happen. Which meant it was a stressful time in your life, one that needed care and precision. So you thought that maybe...maybe there was a way you could take the edge off a little bit.

It’s a Saturday, the week before the show, and Shawn and you had somehow managed to not leave the bed all day. Not even just for sex, though there had been that too, but really just to cuddle and enjoy each other’s company. And so in the time when your head is on his chest and his fingers are drawing shapes in the small of your back, you figure now is as good a time as any.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” you mumble interrupting whatever movie you were watching at the time.

He hummed in agreement. “‘Course.”

“Do you wanna go to the VMAs together?”

“Who, me?”

He leaned up in bed enough to nearly dislodge you from his chest while he went to reach for the remote to pause your movie. Rude.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a big deal. Just figured, we’d both be going anyway. Might as well save the planet a little gas.”

He peered down at you with gentle eyes that had you feeling much softer than you should in that moment. Damn him.

“Yea, you just asked me to be your date to a televised award show. Where everyone would see, but no big deal.”

“Well...it’s not like people don’t know right?” You mumbled not making eye contact.

Shawn reached for your chin, tugging your face close so that your eye met again.

“Who, sweetheart? Tiana knows. Brian knows. But we spend most of our time in your apartment or mine. When we do go out, we’re not exactly going where the industry folks go now are we? I don’t mind. There’s nothing I’d love more than to be with you in the public eye, but I--I gotta admit this is a little surprising coming from you.”

“How come?” You asked stubbornly.

“Well...maybe because you seem to think about my dad more than I do?” He admitted softly. “And maybe because--and I’m just guessing here--I think you might be a bit afraid to be seen with me in public.”

That locks you up.

Shawn had a way of knowing you that didn’t quite seem fair. All of your life you had very specific, intentional relationships with people. They knew what you wanted them to know. Nothing more, nothing less. It had never worked that way with him. He seemed to find meaning in every silence that you shared. And that was good! It was good that he could see you and that he cared enough to want to see you. But, it was also incredibly scary. Because it meant you no longer got to hide.

“I...I--I’m not afraid to be seen with you in public, Shawn.”

He smiled sheepishly and tapped your cheek.

“Hey, it’s okay. I--I get it. I understand. You’re important, y/n. Your career is everything to you. I know what it would like to be paired with me.”

It was like reverse psychology or something. Every time he voiced the very things that you had thought before, they sounded ridiculous. What kind of a grown woman wouldn’t be caught in public with her significant other. What kind of bullshit was that? Goddammit.

“This is stupid! We can go to the other fucking awards in the same car, Shawn. It’s no big deal. Why are you making it something bigger than it is?”

Shawn could tell that you were getting annoyed and fidgety so he reached for your hands and placed them against his chest. It seemed to calm you when you could feel his heartbeat beneath your palms. So sappy.

“I’m not. If you want me to be your date, I’m happy to. You just tell me what you need and I’ll do it. Okay?”

He’s so soft and so kind that the anger just leaves you immediately. It’s incredible. And annoying.

You poke at his cheek. “You annoy me when you’re kind.”

“I annoy you?” He chuckled. “How come?”

“Cause I can’t be angry at you with your dumb doe eyes and this chin and your big ass head. I’m gonna be stressed out of my ass that night. And I--I want to be able to find you when I need you. And I’m gonna need you.” You admitted.

His eyes somehow get even softer. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you even closer than before.

“Then I’ll be there.” He said. “It’s that simple.”

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

She’s beautiful even when she’s scary. Sometimes because she’s scary. That night is the night where the two come together at their strongest points. They’ve got her in a dress that makes his heart skip a beat. It’s a black, skin-tight, velvet number and her braids are in again. Jesus. But she’s also been screaming into her phone for the past twenty minutes, and she’s definitely threatened to take some really important body parts at least three times now. He grips his dick in his slacks a little bit just in sympathy alone.

It was just him and Tiana waiting with her, so when she got off the phone and started rubbing at her temples, someone had to make a move. At this point it was second nature to him. To support her. To be there for her. To ease her mind a little bit. So, when he marches over and cups her face in his hands, holds her close, and kisses her, it doesn’t even register that it’s the quietest the room has been all day. He just waits to feel her shoulders unlock, and waits for that sigh that lets her mouth open enough for his tongue to slip inside. It’s when her body is soft and pliant in his hands, that he knows she’ll be okay. And that’s all that matters to him.

“Okay?” He whispered after pulling away, his thumb still easing at the tension in her neck.

She nodded softly. “O--Okay.”

“Good. We ready to go?” He smiled.

There was a moment when Tiana and y/n make eye contact, and it must be a sort of mind reading of best friends, because he certainly had no idea what either of them was talking about. Or not talking about for that matter. But that didn’t stop Tiana from laughing and it didn’t stop y/n from throwing her hands up and swatting at her best friend.

“Leave me alone, Ti!” She muttered marching for the door.

What a night it was sure to be.

They drove to the awards together. Tiana was in the front seat managing all of the artists that were meant to be on the carpet. Y/n was in the back beside him making sure that every performance was set and ready to go. And unfortunately there he was, also on the phone, making sure that his father’s latest PR stunt went off without a hitch. It meant there was no time to kiss her, or whisper in her ear how pretty she looked in that dress, or all the things he planned to do when he got her out of it later. What he did get? Was to hold her hand. And honestly having her squeeze around his fingers every time she was anxious or stressed or pissed? Was the best part of the ride.

The car pulled to a final stop in front of the venue, and Tiana was already out of the car. Y/n finally stopped to put her phone away and turned to him. For a moment, it was just the two of them. Nothing else. No one else.

“So uh...I’ll go with Normani and my people and you’ll go with your people but we’ll sit together. Both Normani and Sarah will be in the front row anyway so it shouldn’t be weird that we’re near each other. We--We obviously can’t…”

He reached for her palm, threading their fingers together so that she might relax for just a moment.

“Hey. You don’t need to explain to me okay? I understand. I’ll be on my best behavior. I know I might not look like it, but I can be professional.” He smiled playfully. “What I do backstage might just be a different story.”

It gets her to smile and to breathe, and thus it’s worth it immediately. She leans her forehead against his and sighs.

“I just wanna be with you. I don’t wanna do anything else.” She mumbled.

“Same.”

“I hate that it matters. That us being together would upset people.”

“I know, honey.” He sighed and tucked a loose braid behind her ear. “If is makes you feel any better, I think it would give my dad a heart attack. It might actually put him in the grave.”

“Hmmm...good to know. Guess we should get going then huh?”

“Hey, hey. Not quite. Gotta get my goodbye kiss first, right?”

The taste of her smile is enough to get him through the red carpet.

Sarah Leone and Ty Summers have a staged run in on the red carpet. Someone had decided that them arriving separately would only heighten excitement. So, here he was following a teenager around while she got a crack at the dream he’d never know. It was really like his own personal hell on earth.

They meet up and don’t kiss. But they do hug and they do whisper in each other’s ear. It’s word for word from the write up sitting in a binder on his office desk. They’re the most talked about couple there that night, and they’re not even confirmed yet. Jesus.

He’s on the cusp of gagging when his phone vibrates in his pocket.

y/n: try to smile tonight.I know it hurts more than you let on, but you’ll get through it. And I’ll be there too.

He paused in the middle of the carpet, no longer following the herd of people trying to keep his father’s new artist relevant. He read it again. And then again. And then one more time. He could imagine that she was somewhere running around like a chicken with its head cut off. He knew that there had to be a million things on her mind that night, and surely he shouldn’t be at the top of the list. That was natural and understandable. Yet, somehow she found a way to make him feel like he mattered. That the bullshit in front of him was indeed that, even if the public was eating it up, even if it was making everyone around him more money by the second. It did hurt. But he never had to say it, or even allude to it, because she already knew. Of course she already knew. And he loved that about her. He loved her...

Shawn: Thank you. That means more than you could know.

Shawn: I need to see you. When can I see you?

Y/n: I’m backstage already. Not until showtime. Are you okay?

Shawn: Yes. Just miss you. I’ll see you soon.

He was a bit of an impulsive person. It usually worked out for him in the end. When he saw something that he wanted, he never stopped to let himself get in his own head. Instead, he went after it, whatever it was. It was usually the best for song writing too. When he felt something, he felt it so much. And with her? Everything felt like the most important thing. Especially the realization that he was in love with her. Especially that. So once he knew, he wanted her to know; it only seemed right.

And so he floated through the rest of the carpet. Nothing mattered when she was on his mind. He might as well have been back at her apartment playing guitar while she cooked some incredible thing that he couldn’t even dream of creating. It was his happy place and there he stayed until he got to see her again.

***

*Y/n’s point of view*

“You’re fucking stunning. You are incredible. You are an icon. You are Black and beautiful and bold. Let them know okay? And I’ll be out there repping regardless!”

Normani nodded, eyes wet but not willing to let any tears fall that might fuck up her makeup. This was her moment more than it was yours. You’d done all the work in the world to let this moment matter for her. And now she just had to go out there and do it. There was nothing else you could do. You hugged her and let Tiana lead you from the back and towards the crowd. The lights are hot and there’s cameras everywhere and everyone looks like they’re uncomfortable in whatever outfits they’re in. You stop to kiss Lady Gaga on the cheek, shake hands with one of the Migos, and give little Nas X a kiss cause that was your baby.

At the row where your seat was located, he was sitting there. His suit that night was a deep green and it looked so good on him that you couldn't wait to get him out of it. His thighs were spread wide with no one sitting around him and he was jittering his knees up and down. He went to run his fingers through his hair causing him to finally look up and see you, and he was out of his seat before you could even blink.

“Hi.” He murmured reaching for you without thought.

His eyes widened and he went to pull away as he realized how public it was, but you couldn’t handle another second of being away from him, so you reached to pull him closer in the hopes that a huge might not be too much.

“Hi.” You leaned up on your heels to whisper in his ear. “Missed you.”

“Yea. Same. Look I uh--I need to tell you something.”

“Are y’all gone stand here all night blocking the way, or can I sit down sometime soon?” Tiana interrupted.

You rolled your eyes at her but moved to let her slip into her seat. Shawn and you quickly took your seats, his arm coming to rest naturally behind your chair as he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“I’ve got something I need to say.”

You turned to him.

“Well, okay. What is it? Is everything alright?”

“Yea. Yea, everything’s fine I just… I think that I--”

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, COMMERCIAL BREAK IS OVER IN TEN PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO YOUR SEATS!”  

“Oh shit, babe Normani is up next!” You squealed turning to face the stage again.

“Y/n I have to--”

“After the performance okay? I promise!”

She fucking KILLS. She locks in and she leaves it all out on the floor. Her early 2000 era pop/r&b vibe connects with the crowd immediately. And it’s your job to make sure as much. You notice the way they engage. The clapping. The dancing. The way the cameras follow her, but also the way that they follow the crowd. It’s everything you had expected. It’s flawless.

And at the end of the performance the banner goes up on the screen announcing her solo album dropping that night. It’s the only album drop of the evening, you’d made sure of that as well. It’s perfect. Tiana is already beside you watching engagement. Normani shoots to the top of the twitter trend list. Before the camera even moves to capture the next award, Normani is the most talked about thing of the VMAs. It was all worth it. Just like that. The win for best R&B is simply the icing on top.

You hug Tiana and let her wipe at the tears that had begun to rim at your eyes, so that it didn’t fuck up your makeup. Each of you know that it means something different. She wasn’t just performing for herself that night. She was performing for the world to “get it” in a way that Black women often have to fight for. Normani and her music and her hue and her femininity and her sexuality. All of it would always require a justification that her counterparts, even her former bandmates, would never be asked to give. This was the reason you had fought to sign her after all. Who better to navigate the racist bullshit of the world and the industry, then another black woman? Only you could have given her that.

When you turn back to Shawn his arms are already open for you to step into. He wraps himself around you and you, him. Maybe another tear finds its way into the fabric of his suit, but who’s to say?

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispered in your ear squeezing at your hips.

“It was her. Did you see her?! That was all her.”

He shook his head. “It was you too. You’re just amazing.”

“Thank you. Shit. Wow. Oh my god, what was it you were gonna say to me earlier?”

“It can wait. Don’t even worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

He reached and gripped your chin softly before pressing a kiss to your cheek. It was so soft you nearly died.

“Positive. Go celebrate.”

***

The afterparty was in full swing when he tugged you towards the dance floor. Daniel Cesar was performing and Shawn’s hands were on your hips. You were high on life and on the feeling of his touch and Blackness. Always Blackness. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head on his chest, cheek soaking up the heat of his body. It was less public then the award show and more intimate, so you didn’t mind when his fingers dipped down to your ass a little bit, don’t mind when his nose skims your neck and his fingers dig life into you.

“How are you feeling?” He asked twirling you gently.

“I’m feeling happy. Like the happiest I’ve ever felt I think? Is that weird?”

He smiled and ran his hands soothingly up and down your back.

“I don’t think so. I love that you’re happy. I’m happy too.”

“You are?” You asked leaning off of his chest to peer up at him. “That whole pr thing didn’t get you down?”

“It was starting to and then this really beautiful woman texted me that I should calm the hell down. And so I did.” He grinned.

“Beautiful? I heard stunning was more like it.” You laughed

“You’re right. Stunning is much more accurate.”

His eyes followed you intensely with every move that you made. Intense wasn’t the right word. Maybe it was fondness. Like looking at you was enough to make him happy. How wild was that?

“I wanna tell you something.” He murmured. “I’ve been meaning to tell you all night actually.”

“Yea? What’s that?”

He sent your body around for another spin and then pulled you close so that your chests touched.

“I love you.” He whispered in your ear.

Your heels froze pulling your body to a grinding halt. He peered down at you inquisitively again, hands still holding you close.

“Is that okay? Can I...Can I say that? Shit should I not have said that? I shouldn’t have said that.”

He pulled his hands from around you and swept nervously through his curls. His eyes were still kind even when they were frantic. For a second you couldn’t believe that this was the same person you’d met that night all those months ago. You couldn’t believe he, of all people, was standing here telling you that he loves you. But he was. And he did. And somehow, somehow you did too.

“Y/n, I--I’m so sorry. I’ve just never done this before and I thought that--that I should tell you how I feel about you. That you deserve to know that you know? You don’t have to say it back at all I just...I wanted you to know. Cause I felt it, and that means something ya know?” He rambled.

“I love you too.”

His eyes widened. “You do?”

“Well don’t sound so fucking shocked about it. What’s not to love?”

He burst out into a grin and reached for you again, lifting your toes just barely off of the ground as he swept you around the room again. His lips found yours and he smiled even there. How dare he be so sweet.

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day you know that?” He sighed.

You kissed gently at his cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“That makes me so happy.I love you.”

“I love you!”

You dance for the rest of the night and you kiss and you make each other laugh and you get way too drunk at the open bar. But it’s good. You’re not thinking about the next thing on your plate. He’s not thinking about his job, or his dad. It’s just the two of you against the world. And you were really starting to like those odds.

***

“What did they fucking super glue you into this thing?!”

After three minutes of hot and heavy kissing, you’d finally begun to notice that Shawn was not making as quick work of your dress as he usually did. He flipped you over onto his bed and begun to work on your zipper in hopes of sometime that night actually having sex with you.

“I believe in you, sweetheart. You can get it.” You encouraged.

It was in the middle of Shawn fingers trying to undo said dress that you spotted the book on his bedside table. You didn’t think anything of it at first, just let your eyes skim the spine of the book in interest. When it clicked, it clicked, and your heart sort of stopped just as he accidently ripped your givenchy dress.

“Holy shit I’m sorry. I’ll buy you a new dress. Like tomorrow. First thing, I promise!”

Your mind; however, was focused on other things.

“Are you...Are you reading White Fragility?” You mumbled.

“Yea. I did some digging on white people for black live matters? They have like a book club or something, and this one was at the top of the list along with The New Jim Crow by uh Michelle Alexander I think her name was?”

You rolled over onto your back to see your curly hair doe-eyed boyfriend who had somehow found the time to start reading about white supremacy behind your back.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I’m sorry, you thought you would just mention white people for black lives matter, and we would, what? Continue with the night? I would let you cum in me or something?”

Shawn shrugged. “Well...I don’t necessarily need to cum inside you, though it’s kind of my favorite way to end the night. But...Yes? No? I’m not sure what answer you’re looking for.”

“You’re learning.” You mumbled in confusion. “W--Why?”

He leaned up so that his body was no longer poised over yours, hands dipping awkwardly into his pockets.

“Because it matters to you. So, it matters to me. Also I’m learning that it’s supposed to matter to everyone. White people just suck”

You followed him unconsciously body leaning up off the bed to reach for him. Your hands skim his thighs and settle around his waist. You’re at a loss for words, and that is completely and utterly new. The softness in his eyes tells you that he’s nervous, that he’s so much more concerned with  making you happy than you even thought imaginable.

He cups your cheek gently peering down at you from above.

“Is that okay? Did I--did I fuck it up somehow?” He whispered.

You smiled. You beamed. You practically cried.

“No. Not at all. You did good.” You assured him.

He reached down gently to taste the smile on your lips. Your broken zipper left the thin straps of your dress falling off your shoulders as he led you gently back against the sheets. It’s a lot long of just kissing. Of just touching. Of just loving. It’s perhaps the first time in your life where you don’t feel the need to give so much, because he’s right there to take care of you already. You’re not alone anymore. He wouldn’t dream of having you be alone.

“Wanna take care of you.” He hummed against your throat, lips gentle and soft.

You sighed softly, thighs bracketing his hips as he pushed down searchingly against your heat.

“Please.” You begged. “Take care of me.”

“Always.”

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

She invited him to the studio. Something about working late, and if he wanted to “maybe spend some time together” he was welcome to come. But even he wasn’t that naive. She’s inviting him to the studio where Khalid is recording, and it’s definitely going to blow his mind. But, he packs up from work and nearly bolts his way to her. It’s a super famous studio in the heart of the city. Everyone from Gaga to Elton John to Prince had recorded there at some point. It’s a beautiful place of beautiful, rich history. He’d been there once before with his dad, but never had he gotten the chance to sit on an actual session before. When she meets him outside so that security doesn’t turn him away, he’s perhaps a little too excited if her eyes are anything to go off.

“Hi!” He exclaimed, wrapping her up in his arms immediately.

She chuckled. “Someone is happy to see me. Or is the studio you’re happy to see?”

He rolled his eyes and tugged playfully at one of her curls which were down for once in a blue moon.

“It’s you. Always you...I’m just happy to see you in the studio.” He grinned.

“Yea, yea, yea. Just be cool white boy, we do things a little differently then Mendes industries.”

She surely wasn’t fucking joking.

The room is completely dark except for blue lights and candles. It’s not full to the brim of people, like some other sessions he’d sat it on in the past. In fact it seems like it’s just the producer and Khalid. When she pulls him into the room there’s a thin veil of weed smoke that gets thicker where Khalid and the producer were passing a blunt back and forth. When y/n walks into the room the affection and the respect is clear. He wraps his arms around her waist from where he’s sitting in the chair and smiles up at her and she pats lovingly at his hair. They look more like siblings then they do client and manager. It’s unlike anything he’d ever seen at his dad’s company.

“Stop smoking and come say hi to Shawn, big head.” She smirked hugging him back.

Needless to say he felt a bit out of his element, until he met him of course.

Khalid was kind of like a teddy bear. A big, soft, shy teddy bear. His voice was just as soothing when he spoke as when he sang and he didn’t seem to care about how you viewed him at all. He’d never met anyone that was just so effortlessly cool, immediately.

“You must be something special. She never brings nobody to the studio.” Khalid smirked at y/n who immediately flicked him upside the head.

“And I never will again if you don’t behave. I thought you wanted to get the track finished today? The only thing finished around here is that blunt and my patience. Come on.”

He laughed and made a quick bowing motion with his hands towards her before making his way back into the booth. She lead him to the couch and the producer set him up to record the next verse. One second he’s just sitting there holding his girlfriend’s hand watching her do her job, and the next he’s immediately transfixed. Khalid sang with his eyes closed and you could just feel the way that he felt the music. Every note was this beautiful little soundwave and it drove him absolutely crazy to watch the perfection happen.

The verse ends and his heart just sort of deflates the second no more singing is happening. His fingers immediately began to tingle and his feet wouldn’t sit still. He was just aching to create.

“You like?” She hummed running her fingers through the curls at the back of his head.

He just sort of beamed at her softly and cuddled himself deeper against her side.

“So much. This is my favorite part of it all, ya know?” He sighed. “The making something out of nothing. I love it.”

“Yea? You wanna get in the booth?”

His eyebrows shot up on his forehead as he froze in front of her.

“What? Like in front of Khalid? No! Are you kidding?”

She snickered. “Shawn look at you blushing like a school girl!”

“It’s not funny, y/n. Stop.” He hissed.

“I’ve never seen you like this.” She giggled. “This is comical.”

“Stop it.” He whined. “I’m delicate.”

“You sure are, my love.”

Khalid comes back out again to listen to the playback. There’s a note in the second half of the verse that doesn’t fit right. The producer recommends that Khalid does some falsetto work. He squirms in his seat at the suggestion.  It’s not that it’s the worst idea in the world. It’s just that it’s the worst idea in the world. His girlfriend watches him for a few more seconds before pressing a kiss to his cheek and standing up.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom. You try not to explode there, big guy.” She giggled.

*15 minutes later*

*y/n’s point of view*

You open the door and it is almost comical how much weed smoke pours out in front of you. It only takes one look toward the mixing console to see that your plan had worked ridiculously well. Your boyfriend was leaning with his long ass legs crossed over one another with a blunt in one hand and the other making wild gestures in the air as he spoke to Khalid and the producer, Mike, like some hippie professor in the classroom.

“I’m serious. The whole thing is a build right? You’ve got these beautiful ebbs and flows that are sitting in the soundwaves. If you look at the actual wave of the vocal and the instrumental you’ll see what I’m talking about.” He pauses to take another hit of the blunt and then points to the screen. “See. Do you see that? If you put a falsetto there? It ruins all of that magic you just spent two minutes creating. If you really want to follow this pattern that you already created, which is already beautiful, sing it down the octave. Jus trust me, bro.”

Bro. Your boyfriend had turned into a pot smoking vocal production expert bro in the time it took you to walk a block around the studio and pretend to pee. Who the fuck would’ve thought.

“Fuck it. Let’s see if the white boy’s right.” Khalid murmured already heading back for the booth.

You paused just inside the door and watched closely just to see what would happen. Before Mike hit playback, Khalid sang randomly a couple of times. He tried it on various notes to get a feel for what it might sound like. He lands on one and pauses to look towards Shawn.

“What about that one?”

Shawn nodded but looked up into the air like he was visualizing the notes or something.

“Try…”

And it happens. He sings is this effortless sort of way, but with the breath support of someone who knew what the hell they were doing. If you would have sat in a meeting, as you had hundreds of times, and he sang even that note, your spine would have straightened. It’s something immediate about him. It’s that thing you look for in every artist, and you’re lucky as hell if you ever find it. No wonder Manny wouldn’t let his work see the light of day. He’d be huge. Bigger than anything Mendes Industries had yet to accomplish. And Manny would have to live the rest of his life knowing that the best thing that ever happened to him, the best thing to ever come from him, had nothing to do with him at all. It was all Shawn.

Khalid stares at him. Mike stares at him. He takes another hit of the blunt and coughs his way through it, like he couldn’t sing his ass off. It’s rude for sure.

“Try now.” Shawn suggested.

Khalid looked around him to finally land his eyes on you. You’d never mentioned Shawn sang, or did anything beyond the scope of his job at his dad’s company. You knew that you didn’t need to. It was effortless for him. The pieces were all there, and they fit together seamlessly. When Shawn turns to look at you his cheeks get red, and he has the audacity to hide the blunt behind his back like you might not be able to see the smoke wafting up from behind him. But the light and the happiness in his eyes isn’t drug related in the slightest. He just loves to create music. And you kind of love to watch him do it.

You finally closed the door and walked delicately up to your boyfriend. You reached your arms around him until your fingers touched the blunt and you happily took it from him to set between your own lips.

“You heard the man.” You breathed on an exhale. “Try it now.”

*later that night*

You push him onto the bed face down in the hopes it’ll keep him quiet long enough for you to change. He was a chatty one when he was high, which knowing him you probably could have guessed. Less philosophical though, and more happy big ass puppy. By the time you got into bed he was already forcing himself into your space, head on your chest and arms around you. He liked to be held and he liked to hold. Physical touch was a big thing for him. So you gave it to him as much as you could.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into your shirt. “I didn’t mean to intervene in the session. The producer was just...so wrong.”

You chuckled and squeezed at his shoulders.

“Don’t apologize. I’m glad you and Khalid hit it off. He’s young and still relatively untainted by the industry. I’d like to keep him that way if I could. It’s good for him to be around people without ulterior motives.”

“Okay.” He whispered. “It was also just so much fun.”

“Yea? You’re a very talented little thing aren’t you?”

“I don’t know about all that. I just know I love it. More than anything. Besides you of course. I love you a whole lot. The things you do to me, woman? Sheesh. It’s too much to handle.”

This made you laugh beyond belief. His eyes were closed and his lips frowned rumpled against your shirt. But he was just as chatty as could be.

“Is that so? And just what do I do to you?”

You expected vulgarity, something about your ass or your tits or the sounds that you made. Honestly that would have been more than fine. You loved the way he seemed to find endless sensuality in everything that you were. But the answer he offers instead is different.

“You just make me feel warm. All the time. When you hold me and when you kiss me and when you take my hand when we’re walking down the street. Everything about you is the sun. I can’t even tell that it’s cold outside cause when I’m with you it might as well be summer. I’ve never felt anything like it before. God, I love you.” He sighed. “Shit. We like just said that shit to each other. I said too much didn’t I? I shouldn’t have said all that. I’m sorry. I’m really baked right now.”

You bit your lip peering down at this man with the ability to make you feel everything, and with the heart and the emotional intelligence to share just how you did the same for him. And it felt really good. It felt like love and warmth and home. All wrapped up in a person. It was perfect.

“Don’t apologize. That’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to me. I love you. Go to sleep.” You whispered.

“Okay.”

He nuzzled deeper into your tummy and definitely pressed a kissed against your belly button the adorable bastard.

“Y/n?”

“Yes?”

“I love you too. You’re my sun, babe.”

You hold him extra tight that night.

****

@simpledomain @liliane106 @thecurlsofgod @xeuphorically-moonstruck @euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven @justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi @september-lace @valedictorian65 @dimestorebieber22 @MixerMani @lifeoftheparty74 @sinplisticshawn @kamahriii @disaster-rose @justbeingoceana

Arrangement Taglist: 

@moonlightmendes22  @cottoncandyshawn @iloveshawnieboi @shawnsblue

@claredolphinbear24 @peterbrokenparker @blackharry @shawnwyr @speakingofmari @moniehp @softmendesss @ydolansss  @MixerMani @kitykatnumber @chonmnds 

[theunmappedstar]

might i add! sophie has a 4k t.v. (don't ask how) and whenever her boys are sick, she finds new netflix shows to binge. keefe and fitz l o v e it. some of their favorites are stranger things, i am not okay with this, and love is blind. don't ask me why those shows. i don't know.

yes!! this is important!!

sophie would love being able to keep up with an aspect of human culture and everyday life – and fitz and keefe would love getting involved, too! human media and entertainment is drastly different from any elvin productions they’ve seen – by far. humans are a lot more… dark? and violent? but…. it’s intriguing. fitz isn’t keen on r-rated movies, though, because the violence gets Very graphic. keefe can only stomach a few. sophie’s kinda just Used to it

i feel like fitz would be into (some) documentaries and movies based on true events. he’s a knowledge sponge, guys! an adorable little nerd! he loves to learn about prominent figures in human culture and pieces of their history. it intrigues him. (and sometimes terrifies him. seriously, how are humans so violent?)

still, even if it gives him a bit of a stomach-ache sometimes, he always appreciates the effort put into the film.

think The Act, Won’t You Be My Neighbor, Miss Americana (Netflix), Gaga: Five Foot Two (Netflix), RBG, Apollo 11, Bohemian Rhapsody… 

also fitz watches Animal Planet and other series similar to it because he loves animals don’t @ me.

okay but fitz is also a sucker for rom-coms and coming-of-age stories

he loves the movies where teenagers find their way in life. he loves the movies where the characters find their soulmate. he loves the tropes and the cliches and the coffee shops. he loves the sweet and sappy movies. and honestly? the cheesier the better.

a few of those get on keefe’s nerves, but for the most part keefe also likes them. (yet, he won’t admit it).

think 16 Wishes, Mean Girls (keefe really likes that one, too), Eighth Grade, To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before (Netflix), Love, Simon, I Am Not Okay With This (Netflix)….

mystery/thrillers are also hella rad!! fitz loves picking out one and playing a game with sophie and keefe. they want to see who can guess the plot twist or killer first – and whoever can wins a favor (sound familiar ;) )

think Get Out, Black Mirror (Netflix), Gone Girl, Knives Out, Misery, Black Swan…

while fitz is into more psychological thrillers, keefe likes anything and everything generically dubbed ‘freaky’. (he thinks pennywise is pretty cool. he draws him once and sophie is both amazed and off-put by how realistic it looks)

sophie’s pretty into the horror category herself, so her and keefe can empathize on the interest. fitz is downright confused as to how they could enjoy something like that. (if it’s movie time and keefe or sophie picks one of those, fitz claims the Middle Cuddle Spot so that he’s cushioned between the two of them and can easily hide under the covers or their arms.)

keefe also likes comedy, action, chick-flicks, drama, (some) musicals… you know, this boy can basically roll with anything. does he have his favourites? yes. but can he settle down and watch something with sophie and fitz that he wouldn’t normally choose? also yes

think Megamind, Lost In Space (Netflix), Good Girls (Netflix), The Dragon Prince (Netflix), Into The Spiderverse, Pitch Perfect, Mamma Mia!, Easy A, Dirty Dancing, Us….

let’s state the obvious – keefe and fitz are both into disney. especially disney princess movies. 

and i’m serious about that!!! not as a joke, like, “oh, haha, they like the princess movies?”

yes bitch they like the princess movies

keefe’s favourite is probably Tangled. 

flynn rider is suave and has keefe’s charm/humor! maximus is tough and snarky when you meet, but he can soften up, and keefe relates to that! pascal knows how to put up a fight! and rapunzel herself is brave and adventurous and there for the people she cares about; and that’s all keefe has ever wanted to do. (also wielding a frying pan as a weapon is badass)

also, as much as it might hurt to say it, keefe relates to rapunzel, the abuse she suffered, and the trap she was in. the strong storyline and accurate depiction hits home.

fitz’s is probably Frozen. he loves the sisterly action they have going there, okay?? like how badass is anna? how badass is elsa? how badass are these women together?

sophie’s is Mulan. she’s such a strong and powerful role model to look up to! and the humor is PEAK.Mulan is also from sophie’s childhood, so that makes it even more special. the fact that she gets to share it with keefe and fitz…. magical.

also sophie lowkey wants to follow in mulan’s footsteps and slice her hair into a bi bob with a sword. see this post of mine ; )

sci-fi gets all of them. they like the adventure and the morals in the stories, the warnings for the future. they like the undiscovered planets, the tricky tech, and the general imagination that went into producing it. 

think The Matrix, Star Wars, Alien, Guardians of the Galaxy, Avatar, Tau (Netflix), Wall-E, I Am Mother (Netflix), Ready Player One…

they all have some shared favourite movies and shows, though, where their tastes align.

 think Stranger Things (Netflix) (they find it seriously freaky and amusing how similar it is to them/their situation), Once Upon a Time (these are the fairytales sophie grew up learning about?), Dark (Netflix) (does it get much better than time travel??), She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (Netflix) (again!! badass women galore!! it’s awesome!!), the OA (Netflix) (it’s shrouded with mystery), the Rain (Netflix) (this one is a big adventure!!), the Umbrella Academy (Netflix) (i mean, c’mon, they have to save the world from the apocalypse, isn’t that pretty rad in and of itself?), A Quiet Place (this one… fucking brilliant. they’re all dead silent as they watch it and it’s such a powerful movie that they feel weird making sound when it finishes… they watch it again and again and again.), Onward (it’s adorable as FUCK and keefe may cry a little everytime they watch it)…

so, yeah! keefe and fitz really appreciate human media (and it especially comes in handy when they’re sick)

but let’s all admit it…. sometimes human productions are extremely Stupid and low-budget/general low-quality. 

so, there’s always fun in picking out a movie or show to laugh/cringe at because it’s just that bad.

take this one chinese television series on netflix

it seriously looked good. it did.

but then they watched it.

it went well at the start but then?? the main love interest?? was just an asshole??

and why did the protag continue to put up with his bullshit?? he punched the wall next to her face until his knuckles were bleeding?? she was crying?? oh and he kissed her repeatedly when she said stop??? oh and now he threw food at her that she spent time making for him???? sophie??? what the absolute fuck are humans on????

the show’s called Meteor Garden (Netflix)

[dahvangogh]

I’m getting so tired of all this bullshit i’m reading here on Tumblr that I decided to write this post. It was much needed on my part to bent about this because it’s been bothering me for days, and because this is my account, I will do it now.

1. Marti and Nico are a couple and very much in love with each other. Yes. But obviously they don’t go around making out and being all lovey-dovey. Why? First of all, because they are with their friends, hanging out, and when you are with your group it’s pretty uncomfortable watching someone making out and being all sappy. Secondly, they are on a public café and there is always the fear that by holding your lovers hand, or kissing him/her, an homophobic piece of shit or anyone will react badly to your actions. Sadly, most gays have that fear! It’s nothing new! It doesn’t mean they love each other less just because they are sitting apart or not doing that much physical intimacy as other couples.

2. This season is about Eleonora, not only her love life but her life as a whole. Her hardships, her happiness, everything. We all know that. But some doesn’t seem to think like that. Like the tag is 85% about “Where is the Boy Squad?”, “Where is Nicotino?”, “Where is Marti?” or “When is Elippo going to happen?” every time a clip drops. This is fucking sad, for real. It’s like people don’t care about Ele. People need to realize that Eleonora, while being good friends with the Boy Squad and close to her older brother, is the main character and obviously some others will appear much more due to being super close and very important in Ele’s life. Like the Girl Squad, her group of best friends, or Filippo alone, her older brother and the only family member who seems to care about her (*cough* not like her mother *cough*). Obviously Edoardo will appear a lot. We all know that. So stop asking about others all the damn time. Or at least, don’t tag Eleonora on the post. Not everyone does this but some do! Just saying.

3. The fucking hate with some relationships. Yes, everyone is entitled to like, love or hate whatever they please. But c’mon, some go too far or try to be super woke. Almost every relationship in the Skam Universe has a few problematic aspects on it. Accept it. That’s it. 

Isak used Emma to cover his sexuality and kept leading her on while being in love with Even. Even cheated on Sonja with Isak; then cheated on Isak with Sonja. | William made a deal with Noora (she made that deal, btw. some of you forget that it was her who made it, not him) and used Vilde. Noora lied to Vilde several times (to protect her, but still she did it at behind her friend’s back. sorry but that’s not nice). | Jonas cheated on Ingrid with Eva, who was the best friend of said girl. Eva then cheated on Jonas with PChris (yes, she thought Jonas was cheating on her but still, she did it). 

See? Every relationship has its problematic aspects. Just because you hate some characters or relationship doesn’t mean you have to be every fucking day throwing shit and bothering others who are enjoying their ship, or the character their stan, while watching a remake.

4. The hate people have on some characters. I will be quick with this one because it’s like talking with a wall and people will ignore this and go back to whatever they were doing. Every character in Skam started in a certain way and changed until the last season. 

William was an asshole, did many shitty things, but changed. His love for Noora was bigger than his stupidity and his loneliness. Eva was a shell of what she had been in the past. She meet her best friends, moved on from a toxic relationship and found herself. Isak came out and found the love of his life, leaving behind all that hatred and shame of whom he was. Vilde bloomed. For real, she found love, a group of supporting and loving friends, started loving herself for who she was and learned about life. The Vilde from s1 is completely different from the s4 one. Noora thought that being independent and strong didn’t go along with having a relationship. William didn’t change her. She didn’t change. Her relationship with William makes her happy, he challenges her to think beyond what she considers right or wrong. They compliment each other. PEOPLE CHANGE. WE EVOLVE WITH THE WORLD AND ITS CHANGES. IT’S COMPLETELY NORMAL AND NATURAL. And moreover, this are supposed to be teenagers and i don’t know about you, but i fucked up and done shit i’m not proud of when i was a teenager a few years ago. teenagers, and even grown ups, make mistakes and are entitled to amend them and change for the better.

5. Lastly, we are seeing every character through the main’s eyes. What Noora, Isak, Sana or anyone looked like in s1 will be different in another season. For example: Noora in s1, Eva’s, looked so strong, independent and amazing, but in s2 we see the real Noora. A teenager who is not only all of that but also sweet, funny, soft and vulnerable. Sana? Sana always looked so strong and in control, but in her season we see the real Sana. A sweet, strong and loving girl. A softie who loves so fiercely that she prays for every loved one in her life. A teenager that adores her parents, who falls in love and can be insecure about shit.

And that’s is all. Sorry about this long essay but this past days since some remakes started I’ve seen so much hate or people friking out about things on the tags that it has ended up bothering me a lot. 

So I had to bent. 

If you want to talk about this or discuss what I said, I am always open to talk about it.

Much love! 

[zxanthe]

Maka and Soul are best friends and have been since they were infants, but they both have huge crushes on each other and have for a while. Neither one of them knows, but senior prom is coming around and both are looking for dates. More like each other

another late prompt! kinda flubbed it on the “best friends” bit and turned it into more of a “best hatefriends” type of thing - in any case, this is a bit experimental - hope yall enjoy lmao

(also available on ao3)

–

“Broooo,” Starleers, and his teeth glitter too brightly under the lights, “you got a date tothe prom yet?”

Jealousy, irrational and sudden, starts buzzing in ahigh-pitched whine by his ear before he squashes it flat with a snort. “Spend afuckload of money to get trapped in some hotel ballroom with a bunch of peopleI hate for three hours? C’mon, dude, there are way better ways to spend yourtime.”

“Okay, but, consider: Tsubaki Nakatsukasa.” He shoots a grinand a wink over Soul’s shoulder. The girl in question smiles and waves backsheepishly. She’s standing a ways down the hall with Liz Thompson and – oh God.Soul’s heart skips a beat. He swivels his head back frontways, cool as can be.

“She actually said yes?”

“Of course! It’s not like I thought she wouldn’t or anything,I mean have you seen these guns?”

Throbbing, gently glistening muscles are thrust under hisnose. “Should make you a sandwich with all that jelly you got there,” Star sayswith a smirk.

Soul makes a show of rolling his eyes and shoves him away.“Bro, c’mon.”

“No bro, you c’mon.It’s our senior year. Think of all the people we can make fun of!”

“Like we don’t do that every day.”

“But they’ll be thinking they’re even hotter shit thanthey’re usually not so it’ll be twice as funny.”

“Still no.”

“Brah. Whatever, let’s hit the gym. Not much time left tofit in those gains, ya dig?”

“Unbelievable,” Soul grumbles. He grabs his bag and slamshis locker shut.

Across the hall, Maka grabs her bag and slams her lockershut. “Who, Evans?”

“Yeah!” says Liz, smacking her gum. “Tsu’s already goingwith Blockhead over there, might as well go along for moral support. ‘Sides,didn’t you two used to be like BFFs up till like middle school?”

She very determinedly doesn’t look back. She can feel herears heating up. “Okay, one, that was a long time ago and we don’t really talkanymore because he turned into a jerk, and two, Tsu, really?!”

“Black Star has such nice deltoids, Maka,” Tsubaki saysmournfully. “They’re sculpted. Andhe’s actually not all that bad, once you get to know him.”

“You’re too nice for your own good.”

“Maybe so. But you know, he’s kind of charming, in his ownspecial way.”

“Oh my God.”

Liz cackles. “Look, I’d ask Evans myself cause mmm, grungerocker boy with a sexy-ass glare? I’d be all over that, baby, but Kid alreadyasked me, so my hands are kinda tied.”

Maka huffs. Her ears must be totally red by now, ugh, shereally hopes Liz isn’t in an observant mood. It’s not like she expressly needsa date to go to the prom; going stag is very much a thing. Having one wouldn’tnecessarily make the undoubtedly agonizing experience any better, much lessSoul Evans of all people. She imagines, though, for a brief, blinding instant,what he’d look like in a suit – oh no, Liz is looking at her and she doesn’t likethe glint in her eye. Maka clears her throat and fumbles at the threads ofconversation. “That rich boy transfer student? No way.”

“Yes way,” Liz says, smugness creeping into her voice, “andif – “

“ – you don’t go I will be fuckin’ hurt.”

Soul rolls his eyes. “Would you quit it already, it’s beenlike a week now. Th’ fuck you even need me there for anyway, dumbass, you’vefinally got a date with the chick you’ve been talking about nonstop for likethis entire semester.”

“Uh, yeah, and I need my most loyal follower and favoritewingman there to bask in the combined force of our blinding hotness.”

“Jesus, you’re so weird,why do I even talk to you?”

“The words I speaketh are ambrosia on thine ears, my goodbro. Hey, why don’t you ask out Tsubaki’s friend? That short flat-chested onewith the pigtails, I forgot her name. That way you don’t have to worry aboutthird-wheeling us.”

Soul chokes on his protein shake. Black Star pounds himvigorously on the back. “Breathe, brother. I know, I know. But take one for theteam, yeah?”

“Fuck you,” Soul gasps. “You’re the worst.”

“Shh. No tears, only dreams now.”

“Maka Albarn,” Soul begins, “is the nerdiest, most uptight –“

“ – idiotic slacker in the entire school!” Her ears aresteaming, she’s sure of it. “I can’t be seenwith a guy like that, the act alone will drop my GPA by a full lettergrade!”

“GPA-shmeePA,” Liz says with a dismissive wave of herfreshly-painted nails. “Listen, you won’t flunk out of college or whatever justbecause you go party for one night. Besides, what if things go south withBlockhead and Tsu needs backup? Who’ll look after our girl?”

“I know taekwondo, you know,” Tsu says from on top of herbed.

“Not the point. C’mon, Maka!”

“A triangle has three sides,” Tsu says. “Senior prom wouldn’tbe right without you. You don’t even have to ask anyone if you don’t want to.”

I do, though, mumblesa little voice in the back of her head, and an image of Soul surfaces in herbrain. She bites her lip. “Well…”

“Uh,” says Soul.

In front of him, Maka puts a hand on her hip. “Uhhh,” she mimics. “Are you just goingto stare at me like an idiot all day or was there something you had to say?”

His stomach’s doing backflips and it’s making it very hardto concentrate. The bell just rang, they’re huddled awkwardly against the walljust outside the classroom to avoid getting swept up in the crowd, and herealizes, belatedly, that he doesn’t have to do this. He could just go byhimself, and be the awkward third wheel, but. Ugh. This is stupid – why’s he sonervous? (He knows exactly why.) He plays it off as lofty annoyance. “Do you,”he begins.

“Do I.”

“Do you. Wanna go to prom?”

Maka gapes. She was thinking he’d be asking to copy hercalculus homework for the billionth time, or maybe help on a biology problem –they have entirely too many classes together and it’s bullshit, it really is –but not this. She’d been agonizing ona dignified way to ask him for the past three days, and then this just dropsinto her lap –

“Hello in there,” Soul says. “Wow, am I really thatoffensive? I’m hurt.”

Her heart’s beating too fast, ugh, God, she can’t think – wait,he asked her, does this mean – could it be that –

“Yes,” she blurts.

Disappointment skewers his stomach mid-somersault. “Well,that settles that, I guess.”

Mortification consumes her as she realizes what she justsaid. “No!” she cries, too passionately. Soul turns around and quirks aneyebrow. Her ears are flaming. “Imean, yes! I mean, you’re – palatable! I’ll go to prom with you!”

“Oh. Oh. Hella.Rad. Guess I’ll uh. See you then. You have my number already, right?”

“Y-yeah!”

Fuck me, Soulthinks as he escapes, hoping she didn’t catch him blushing like a motherfucker,hella rad –

- you’re palatable – Maka wants to die –

REALLY?!

“Really?” Maka asks.

They made it intact to the dance floor. Some sappy countrysong is playing. The floor is packed with sweaty, inept teenage dancers; itreeks accordingly. He’s wearing a rental and she’s got on this knee-lengthpurple number that really highlights her lack of any womanly curves whatsoever.Her hair’s half-down half bizarre corkscrew pigtails. Liz and Tsubaki must havedone her makeup, there’s no way she could get it to look that polished on herown. She looks gawky. She looks ridiculous. There’s something funny happeningin his chest at the sight of her.

She feels the light, hesitant pressure of his hand in hersand on her hip like nothing she’s ever felt. His palm’s a little clammy. He’sso tall. When did he get so tall? Her heart’s beating a million miles an hour.She wants – she wants – she takes a deep breath. “Do you even know how todance?”

“Nope.”

“Ugh, figures.”

“Hey, you were theone who wanted to get out here, not me. Don’t you dare complain.”

She steps on his toe and feels gratified at the little yelpof pain he gives. “Ugh, you’re so…it’s a freaking dance, dummy, not a sit-at-the-table-like-a-weirdo!” Her heartleaps into her throat as a terrible thought occurs to her. “If you didn’t wannacome,” she says, a shade quieter, “why’d you even ask me?”

Soul swallows. “I, uh. Star, he.”

Oh no. Oh no, she’s a world-class idiot. “Don’t,” she says thickly,beginning to pull away. “Ha ha, very funny, ask the ugly one out for shits and giggles – “

“No!” Soul’s grip tightens. “It wasn’t – I wouldn’t – do youactually think I’d – “

“Yes!” she says,trying to escape in earnest now, and Soul flinches, stung. He doesn’t let go,though.

“Listen to me, itwasn’t a dare, okay, I – “

“Then why!”

“Because – it’s uncool to go to prom without a date and – “

“Oh, so it’s about your image, is it! God, men, you’re all so – “

“Let me finish!” hegrowls, and tries to pull her back to him, but he pulls too hard and of courseshe fucking trips and suddenly it is taking all of Soul’s considerablebalancing skills, honed from years spent studying the ways of the skateboard,to keep them from eating shit like a couple of goddamn morons. They performseveral very silly and energetic twirls instead, earning them some dirty looksfrom neighboring couples.

“Holy shit,” says Black Star from their table, elbowingTsubaki. “This is going way better than we thought.”

“It’s beautiful,” she sighs, smiling a little.

“Jesus,” Soulsays. He’s dipped her. This final move was necessary to prevent them fromfalling, and also to make everything look totally awesome and intentional.Their faces are very close together. She’s got really, really pretty eyes, henotes, a little dazedly. “Because I wantedto,” he blurts out.

Her throat bobs as she swallows. Her mouth is suddenly verydry. “You…what?”

“I mean, like, Star was like, ask Maka, because she’s Tsu’sfriend and all and it would just make sense and I wouldn’t go otherwise but I actuallywanted to, also, I mean, ask you.”

“Oh,” she says. She’s dizzy from all the spinning they justdid and kinda breathless. This close she can smell his cologne. The lights aretoo dim to properly tell but – her heart stops – is that a blush on his face? Oh. Oh.

Oh. She’s looking at him with something very much likedisgust, or shock, or something – fucking hell, he blew it, this is it, shereally does hate him now. He straights back up. The song is still fuckingplaying. He knew this was a bad idea, the entire night, all of it – this danceis just the rotten cherry on the shit sundae of the entire liquid fart of hisentire high school career. He swallows hard, and wonders how much more she’dhate him if he bolted right here and now –

Her brain has short-circuited, as it tends to do around thisstupid, stupid boy. “Are you even going to college?” she blurts nonsensically.

He looks visibly startled. “What? No. No. Fuck the police,”he mumbles.

One beat. Two. Then she busts out laughing. Okay, now he’sdefinitely blushing, she can see it, it’s confirmed. Silly, silly coolguys.

“Fuck you,” he mumbles. “I hate you.”

She’s feeling very brave, or maybe very stupid. Maybethey’re the same thing. She tightens her grip on his shoulder and steps incloser. “Do you?” she asks him. “Well I hate you more. I’ve always hated you.”

“Oh, sick. Even when we were kids?”

“Especially then.”

His eyes get a strange, blazing look. It makes butterfliesexplode in the pit of her stomach. He jerks her through a turn round thecorner. “Well I’ve hated you since I first saw your stupid face,” he growls.“Every time you smile I get so fuckin’ pissed, I wanna just, just kiss it right off you.”

“Holy shit,” Maka blurts, and now her whole face is probablythe color of a fire engine, “son of a,” and she goes for it, loops her armsround his neck and presses close like she’s wanted to all night.

“You’re awful,” Soul rumbles, and hugs her tighter, “fuckingterrible – “

“Uncouth, moronic – “

“Why don’t we cut the crap,” he says suddenly, “and blowthis joint. Let’s go to The Creek and stargaze, like we used to.”

“The Creek?”

“Oh yeah. Our one. Bet our fort’s still there andeverything.”

“Bet.”

“You’re on. Loser’s gotta pay up with – ” and she feels hisbreathing hitch “ –  a kiss.”

She pulls away and looks at him. There are spots of color inhis cheeks, and when he meets her eyes they deepen and he looks away. Ice cold,yeah right. She takes a deep breath. They have a lot of catching up to do.

“Deal,” she says, and smiles.

[cosmic-hearts]

fortune cookie | kim seungmin

kim seungmin x reader - best friends to lovers! au genres; fluff, romance, slight angst warnings; mentions of drinking and alcohol

You will find love soon.

You blink at the small slip of paper in your hands, thinking that out of all the fortune cookie messages you could have received, this had to be the most ironic one.

There was no way you’d be finding love anytime soon.

Not after your boyfriend having just recently mysteriously dumped you with no explanation through a crummy text, no less.

Snorting, you crush the paper into your pocket.

“What did you get?” Your long-suffering best friend, Seungmin, asks.

“Absolute bullshit,” you reply, grabbing the bucket of popcorn from him and stuffing a large fistful into your mouth.

He screeches. “Give that back! I made it myself—,”

“Fortune cookies are so stupid. They’re literally never accurate,” you continue ranting, and Seungmin knows that deep down you’re just bitter about the unfortunate chain of events that led to you lying on his couch, sobbing over sappy romcoms and stealing homemade popcorn from him. He’d bought the packet of darned cookies from a bakery, hoping to cheer you up with a good prediction about your fortune, but it seems like it’s got you even more sulky.

“It’s been a week of lying around and doing literally nothing. It’s time to get back on your feet, find a new boyfriend. Or just stay single. Simple as that.”

You glare at him and he raises his hands in defeat. “Fine. Continue to wallow in self-pity. Rot on my couch. Waste away into oblivion.” Seungmin had never been a very comforting friend—  he was more of the kind who just forced you to get on with life. When you first showed up crying on his doorstep after your breakup, he unsympathetically responded with a “Hmm. Okay. And?”, completely unimpressed. But he did proceed to let you snuggle with him on his couch, hugging you close to him and rewatching Frozen with you, occasionally telling you to just ‘let it go’. You were grateful, since on a normal day Seungmin would literally kick you if you tried to hug him. Definitely not one for skinship, he wasn’t. Though he looked all cute and cuddly on the outside, which was the reason why you wanted to befriend him in the first place when you two first met, he was nothing like it once you got to know him. He was more like the spawn of satan. You felt cheated for sure.

But apart from him continually refusing to respond to your constant advances of affection and mocking your inability to function without at least two coffees a day, he’s been a steadfast, reliable friend who hauls your drunk ass home after parties, tucks you in bed and even comes early the next morning to make hangover soup for you.

If you were being completely honest with yourself, you did wonder, more than once, whether Seungmin had feelings for you. But then he makes some stupid remark about your hair looking like a bird’s nest and you brush aside any possibility of him having more-than-platonic feelings for you. Anyway, he often declared that his ideal type was someone who ‘had their shit together and ain’t a hot mess like you’, so you could confirm that he definitely didn’t see you in a romantic light.

“Anyway, you’re gonna need to clear off tonight,” Seungmin says while clearing his throat awkwardly, looking away from you, as though he was hoping you wouldn’t hear him.

“Why? The guys coming over?”

“Um, no, actually. My chem lab partner Eunji’s coming over tonight to work on a project.”

“Shin Eunji?” Your eyebrows furrow slightly. You had never really interacted with her, but you did catch her glaring at you on more than one occasion when she thought you weren’t looking. What you ever did to offend her, you had no idea.

“Um. Yeah. That’s her,” Seungmin confirms, disposition reeking with discomfort, and that’s when you notice the tips of his ears glowing bright red.

“Why do you look like a five-year-old with a kindergarten crush? Do you like her or something?”

Seungmin doesn’t reply with his usual snarky retort, which simply confirms your suspicions.

“No way, my little Seungminie has a crush on someone! You haven’t had a crush on someone for like, ever. Now I can tell Hyunjin that you’re taken so he’ll stop asking me to set you up with him.”

“I’m not taken. I don’t even know if she likes me,” Seungmin murmurs unconfidently, staring down at his palms.

You roll your eyes, grab his face and squish his cheeks in your palms. “Kim Seungmin, you’re smart, you get good grades, you’re not a thirsty hormonal wreck like most of the other guys on campus, and when you’re not being a rude annoying jackass to me, you can be what some girls like to call ‘cute’. What girl wouldn’t want to date you? If she doesn’t like you she must be blind.”

“Would you want to date me then?” He asks suddenly, countenance serious.

You almost choke on a popcorn kernel. “The heck dude?”

“You said that all girls would want to date me. That includes you.”

You blink at him, taken aback by how forward he’s being. “T-That’s different. I’m not… well, the day I decide to date you would be the day I’ve gone off my rocker for real. I mean, can you imagine us dating? Absolutely ridiculous,” you say, finishing off with an awkward chuckle, wondering why Seungmin’s being so serious. He’s staring straight at you intensely, clearly not joking.

“Okay, then get off my couch,” he says, and you feel relieved that he’s back to being his savage self, but at the same time a teeny bit peeved that he dropped the subject so quickly.  “And get your sports bra off my floor before you leave. I don’t want Eunji to get any ideas.”

Back at home, you wonder if Seungmin really likes Eunji.

Seungmin wasn’t the type to have crushes easily. In fact, it had been so long since he’d last liked someone that you were beginning to think perhaps he was asexual.

You wonder what’s so special about her. Sure, she was pretty, but so were a ton of other girls on campus. As Seungmin likes to say, “Not everyone had bad luck on the genetic lottery like you.” He was affectionate like that.

Though you hated to admit it, you wanted only the best for Seungmin.

And though you hated to admit it, you were scared.

It’d been so long since he’d expressed interest in someone that you were so used to having him around all the time. You were so used to having him all to yourself, as he didn’t have a girlfriend to commit to, and his friends liked you just as much as they liked him (perhaps even more so) so they didn’t mind you joining their hangouts.

But now, perhaps you’d have to start sharing him with someone else who didn’t seem to like you at all.

Your fears come true.

Seungmin starts hanging out with you less and less, and even cancels plans with you. When you ask him if he’s really dating Eunji, he won’t give you a straight answer.

It gets so bad to the point that he takes several hours to reply to your texts, and sometimes he doesn’t even reply.

At school when you gravitate towards him for your usual lunch dates he says that he’s busy working on some lab project and won’t be able to eat lunch with you anymore. You know it’s bull. Seungmin can’t lie to save his life.

He’s surprisingly good at avoiding you. You tried several times to confront him and ask him what the hell is going on but you either can’t find him or he slips away before you can even approach him. A game of chase would seem rather unsightly and inappropriate in the school compound full of watchful, judgemental teenage eyes, and would do nothing for your dignity. So you give up.

His friends aren’t any help either. When you ask Felix what is up with Seungmin, he has the audacity to say that Seungmin’s hamster died. Like Seungmin had a hamster. Jisung bolts every time you try to approach him, and Hyunjin makes up some slippery excuse about Seungmin maybe being a wolf who’s going into heat. You wonder why you bothered asking them in the first place. Though they’ve nothing but nice to you, they were still Seungmin’s friends and ultimately loyal to him.

Sighing, you walk back home in darkness of the night. Usually Seungmin would be there to accompany you, chiding you all the way for staying out so late, and warning you never to walk back home alone without him. You’d thought him annoying then, but the sweetness of the gesture begins to sink in and you realize just how much you miss your best friend.

“Hey!”

You turn around, hoping that it’s Seungmin. Maybe he had come to walk you home after all.

But then you catch sight of the person’s face in the darkness.

“Wooyoung?”

You stand frozen as your ex-boyfriend makes his way towards you, a sheepish yet slightly hopeful smile on his face. You hadn’t forgotten the ruthless way in which he broke up with you, and you give him the most piercing look you can muster. “What. Do. You. Want.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve been thinking about it, and… I realized it’s not fair to you to just suddenly end things with no explanation. I need to tell you why I broke up with you.”

“Go on,” you say, trying not to let your curiosity show.

“I was cheating on you.”

A week ago, this sentence would have turned you into a sobbing wreck. But now it comes more of a surprise than a nasty shock, and you simply lift your eyebrows. “Well, isn’t that nice to hear.”

“I-I… I’m really sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was so stupid-- I wasn’t thinking straight. It was only after your friend Seungmin gave me a piece of his mind that I came to my senses--,” You cut him off. “Wait, Seungmin? What does Seungmin have to do with this?”

“He told me— well, more like demanded me— to give you a proper explanation as to why I broke up with you. No offence, but I never expected a guy as… scrawny as him to be able to pack such a punch.”

Your eyes widen. “He punched you?”

“Yeah. Right smack in the jaw, no less.”

You can’t believe this new tidbit of information. Seungmin was never the violent type, preferring to solve conflicts through calm reasoning and logical argumentation. He certainly isn’t the type to act on impulse either. You tried to imagine level-headed, mild-mannered Seungmin punching Wooyoung. It just doesn’t click.

A new question pops up in your head. “Who were you cheating on me with?”

Wooyoung takes a deep breath and averts his gaze from yours. “Again, I’m really sorry, it was a mistake, does it really matter who she was?”

“Yes, it does. The least you can do is tell me who the lucky girl was,” you fire back, rolling your eyes.

“Fine, fine. It’s Shin Eunji.”

Right at that moment you catch sight of a couple coming to sit on a nearby park bench. The boy’s arm is slung over the girl’s shoulder, and she leans in to peck him on the cheek. Wooyoung suddenly gasps and grabs you by the hand to duck behind a nearby branch.

“What are you doing?” You angrily demand.

“It’s Eunji! Who is she with?” Wooyoung urgently asks.

“Wow, it seems like you care about her a lot—,”

“No, I don’t care about her, but look. Isn’t that Seungmin?” His voice has dropped to a low whisper.

You squint, cursing your myopia. Yet his silhouette is unmistakable.

A jolt shocks through your heart. It is Seungmin. That familiar crown of chocolate brown hair, the watch on his wrist that you gave him for his seventeenth birthday. He never went anywhere without it.

Feeling your vision go blurry with tears, you stand up and Wooyoung grabs your hand roughly, jerking you back down. The rustle of the bushes causes Seungmin to turn his head to check what all the commotion is about.

He sees you standing right there, Wooyoung next to you. He sees your cloudy eyes, the way your shoulders begin to shake every time you’re about to cry.

He sees you run off into the night, Wooyoung calling after you.

He sees it all, and it crushes him.

Unfortunately, you do turn into a sobbing wreck after all.

You can’t figure out which is worse; discovering that your ex cheated on you with the girl your best friend is currently dating, or your best friend acting all heroic by punching your ex and then proceeding to hit it up with the very girl your ex cheated with. Maybe it’s a little bit of everything.

If Seungmin saw the mess you were in now, he would shake his head, call you a lazy slob, and set to work cooking you a decent meal.

Except that Seungmin isn’t here anymore. He’s not here to nag you, chide you, force you back on your feet. He has someone else to do all that for now.

As if the universe thinks that these blows aren’t enough, the doorbell rings, the harsh, jarring sound startling you from your hazy daze of confusion and self-pity. You curse whoever’s at the door, grab a baseball bat just in case it’s Wooyoung, and drag yourself out of bed.

You open the door, revealing a distressed-looking Hyunjin. But he isn’t alone.

Your heart contracts when you see Seungmin under his arm, eyes half-lidded, clearly unable to stand, reeking badly of alcohol.

“What the— is he drunk?” You almost laugh at the sight of an inebriated Seungmin— studious, diligent Seungmin who prided himself on the fact that he doesn’t drink at gatherings and goes to bed at exactly 10pm— drunk. Knocked out completely.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin says. “Sorry about this. We would have dropped him off at home but he wouldn’t stop calling for you. He threatened to throw up in Chan’s car if we drove him home. Naturally, Chan had a fit and detoured right back here. Says that if you’ll be a dear and take him in for the night he’ll do whatever you ask. Sorry. You know how anal Chan gets about his car.” Then Hyunjin lifts his eyebrows, shrugs and looks at Seungmin in a way that seems to say, And anyway Seungmin’s your best friend. So you get full responsibility of taking care of his drunk ass.

You sigh in resignation and Hyunjin takes that a his cue to hand Seungmin over to you. You grab Seungmin by the arms and gently sit him down on the ground while saying goodbye to Hyunjin.

After all, Seungmin did take care of you while you were drunk, when you two were still best friends. You owe it to him to do the same for him at least once, even if he hasn’t been a good best friend lately.

You drag him to the couch, taking off his socks and helping him lie down. There’s no way you’d help him wash up or whatever, so you just grab a nearby blanket and place it over him. Then you get up, ready to retire to your room.

But then you hear a sleepy voice calling your name.

“Don’t go,” Seungmin says with a drunken slur, his hand creeping up to tug at the bottom of your shirt. He looks like he’s having a lot of trouble staying awake.

“You should sleep,” you say flatly, yet making no move to leave. This was the first time Seungmin had called for you in weeks. Not to mention that the way he’s clinging onto you, lips pouty and eyes half-opened like a downcast puppy, makes you want to gather him up in your arms and shower him with cuddles.

“Sleep with me,” he says, holding out his arms like a child begging for a hug. Your heart melts, relishing the sight of a drunk, clingy Seungmin. If you weren’t aching with the prospect of his betrayal, you would have given in immediately.

“No. Go to sleep, Seungmin,” you say firmly.

He pouts. “Are you angry with me?”

You sigh, having neither the mood nor the energy for confrontation now. “We can talk tomorrow morning, Seungmin. Just go to sleep.”

Suddenly, Seungmin grabs your wrist and yanks you down so that you’re lying on top of him on the sofa. He then moves so that you’re nestled by his side, before proceeding to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his face in your hair.

“Hmm… I missed you so much,” Seungmin says, and you can’t help but note that the lazy slur is gone from his voice. You mumble into his chest, “Are you really drunk?”

He simply pulls you closer in response, as if afraid that you’ll leave if he says that he isn’t drunk. “I don’t know, am I?”

“Well, I mean, you’re hugging me right now. I’d say that’s a definite sign of intoxication, considering how you always threaten to kick me if I hug you. But you’re not slurring anymore, which is weird—,”

“Stop rambling. It’s cute, but stop.”

“If it’s cute, then why should I stop? And who are you tell me what—,”

“If you keep on being so cute I might kiss you.”

You stop talking then, as the weight of his words dawn on you.

Kim Seungmin just threatened to kiss you.

“Do you not want me to kiss you that badly?” Seungmin asks quietly.

You look up at him then, only to see him staring down at you with a ferocity that wouldn’t have been possible with inebriation. Kim Seungmin, the cunning trickster. He never was drunk.

“Seungmin… what is going on?”

Seungmin sighs and runs a hand through your hair, his other hand caressing your cheek softly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?”

“Fallen in love with you.”

You don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to feel. His confession doesn’t fill you with the heart-fluttering excitement you’d anticipated, but instead dark moths of confusion flit around in the pit of your stomach.

“But you’re dating Shin Eunji. The same girl my ex cheated on me with. You can’t just betray me like that and then say you’ve fallen in love with me, Kim Seungmin. It’s not fair. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I broke up with her. I never liked her,” Seungmin says softly, “I only dated her to try and get her off Wooyoung’s back. Then maybe… maybe he’d go back to you and you’d be happy again,” Seungmin says uncertainly, as if finally realizing the stupidity of his actions.

You can’t believe your ears. You don’t know whether you should chastise Seungmin for his idiocy or feel touched that he’d sacrificed his happiness for yours. You sit up on the couch and he does the same.

“I know you wouldn’t be happy with me. So what if I liked you? You’d never like me back.”

“How would you know?”

“Would you want to date me then?” He asks suddenly, countenance serious.

You almost choke on a popcorn kernel. “The heck dude?”

“You said that all girls would want to date me. That includes you.”

You blink at him, taken aback by how forward he’s being. “T-That’s different. I’m not… well, the day I decide to date you would be the day I’ve gone off my rocker for real. I mean, can you imagine us dating? Absolutely ridiculous,” you say, finishing off with an awkward chuckle, wondering why Seungmin’s being so serious. He’s staring straight at you intensely, clearly not joking.

“God, Seungmin, how was I supposed to know that you liked me? You kept saying I was miles away from your ideal type!”

“So you like me then?”

“I don’t know, all I know is that I never thought you could be so incredibly stupid— for god’s sake, Seungmin, if you liked me you could have just said it and saved us all of this bullshit—,”

That is when Seungmin kisses you, and he tastes of beer and hesitance, he tastes bittersweet. He pulls away quickly, and it shuts you up completely.

“I said I’d kiss you if you continued rambling.”

But when he sees how stunned you are, the flush in your cheeks and the shock in your eyes, guilt settles within him. “Shit, that was a mistake, I’m so sorry—,”

“K-Kiss me again.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t a mistake. Kiss me again.”

Something changes in Seungmin’s eyes. Swallowing the rest of his inhibitions down his throat, he places a careful hand on the back of your neck, drawing you closer to him. Angling his head slightly, he gently presses his lips to yours for only a few seconds, yet those few seconds stretch out into what feels like an eternity to you. This time, the only thing you notice are that his lips are soft and warm, and you feel a certain sweetness erupting within your taste buds.

Then he pulls away, his hot breath hitting your lips.

“So I heard you punched Wooyoung.” Seungmin groans. “Why did you have to ruin the moment?”

“Thank you. For standing up for me,” you say sincerely, leaning forward to give him a peck on the lips, before continuing, “Maybe fortune cookies aren’t absolute bullshit after all.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I said you’re an idiot. And I’ve finally gone off my rocker. Now go to sleep.”

Seungmin happily hugs you close to him, his eyes fluttering shut, relishing the feeling of having you by his side. He’d tried to reject skinship from you for the longest time, thinking that maybe it would help him forget his feelings for you, but it merely fuelled his longing to hold you in his arms. You snuggle closer to him, burying your face in his chest as you bask in his tender warmth.

It’s the fortune cookie, you think to yourself, drifting off to sleep as he holds you tightly in his arms, heart full with the knowledge that his feelings are finally being reciprocated.

a/n; hi there! i managed to upload the full story in one post so there you go! i’ll delete the first two parts soon :)

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

okay, y’all, i’ve gotta back on my tl;dr bullshit soapbox about something:

so, the other day, i was just mindlessly scrolling through my corporate & capitalist hellscape facebook™️ (i.e. LinkedIn) and came across this totally trite mostly bullshit meme that was shared by some corporate executive search man (whose name i decided to crop out bc eh):

so i obviously agree with the last three points on this list, bc god yes my life would’ve been a bit better if I didn’t get all my dialogue about mental health only from teen mags and horrible portrayals in teen tv shows (and also this hellsite). and hell yeah everyone, and I mean EVERYONE needs to learn that failure is okay many situations (like failing a class in uni or school) bc everyone fails at something sometimes. and dealing with failure is HARD. and time management is something that I’m pretty sure everyone lies to fuckin hell about on their resume, bc lots of people really suck at it, myself included. so yeah. that needs to be taught. and i also agree with the “how to manage your health” point. bc thats becoming ever more prevalent and important with career burn out etc.

but entrepreneurship? people management? conflict resolution? creativity? how to manage money? public speaking? like y’all. three of those ARE taught/learned in school, who the fuck wrote this meme? 

for anyone who actually paid attention in maths class, (which is probably very few people outside of the top performing classes), there WAS A WHOLE FUCKING UNIT that focuses on financial maths (in australia anyway). I ignored this unit as well as maths in general at school, bc I generally hated maths and was convinced that I was somehow never going to get a job. but i remember the gist of the overall topic and its subtopics. one subtopic teaches you how to calculate your wages in various contexts (overtime, double-time and a half, holiday payments, im pretty sure maternity leave pay was jammed in somewhere? idk if other countries would have double time & a 1/2 like australia though). another subtopic teaches you how to calculate interest on bank loans and credit rates on credit cards. a third subtopic teaches you how to calculate savings (obvs in terms of discounts in shops)....im sure there was a bit about budgeting in there somewhere? im pretty sure there were some questions were about tax payments somewhere as a subtopic enrichment exercise? but you get my gist. are these not money management skills? in some sense? like if i could find one of my old maths textbooks or old maths books i’d give an example of a question, to make my point stronger. but the problem, like i said before, is that a load of people (myself included) just zone out in maths in high school and stop trying with it. they forget what they’ve learnt, and just remember how much they hated algebra and how they’ll never use it again. maths was one hell of a fucking strong bitch, guys. but maybe i’m wrong.

creativity? excuse me? have people forgotten about art classes? drama classes? english classes? music classes? need i go on? okay don’t get me wrong, most of these classes did focus a lot on memorising quotes or facts about people (artists/writers/poets/composers/dramatists etc) or specific  periods/movements in art or theatre or literature for example.... but the amazing sculptures/paintings etc people created in art for their final projects in year 12, or even in year 10 were works of their imagination. the scripts people write in drama or maybe english (if you had a fun teacher who did a screenwriting unit, for example) are creative asf. especially in year 12 when they do their major projects, where they may produce a monologue or a short movie, and then there’s a group piece. drama students might even make their own costumes for these performances. LIKE AIN’T THAT A LOT OF CREATIVITY RIGHT THERE Y’ALL????? and english. lowly old english. THEY HAVE A WHOLE FUCKING TOPIC ON CREATIVE WRITING FOR FUCKS SAKE. the original music people might create for their final projects too in year 12? does that not count as creativity? like yes, i know a lot of these things do still have to meet bs assessment criteria (especially in catholic schools, where the main things are you don’t offend the catholic education office and jesus/god lmao) to be considered worthy of a mark for your year 12 exams. but FUCK. HOW THE FUCK AREN’T ANY OF THESE SUBJECTS COUNTED TOWARDS BEING CREATIVE???????? like fuck your corporate creative ideation or w/e bullshit, Callum. drama and english even lend themselves to improvisation in some instances, like public speaking, which is examined further, below.

next, we move on to public speaking. this shit is basically taught from the first goddamn day of “show & tell” in kindy/kindergarten, and this fucker has the gall to say that it’s not fucking taught in schools? someone call in miley cyrus/hannah montana to throw the fuck down in this motherfucking hoedown BC THIS STUPID-ASS MEME-FUCKER HAS NERVE. i hated public speaking. absolutely hated it. even though it was ironically one of the places i ended up excelling in in english classes. even when i fucked up in my english speeches with like “oh, fuck.... said nelson mandela,  i’ve seem to’ve lost my palm card. wait, shit! there it is... excuse me while i pull it out of my ass. whoops, sorry miss” *bats eyes and finger guns at my year 9 english teacher who has her head in her hands and is done with my shit, while the class laughs at my gaffe* i’d still end up with like 73% or like 26/30. it was baffling. but for people who weren’t the class clown/smart alec like i was from years 7-10 (and like i actually wasn’t once i moved schools).... public speaking is like the leading cause of anxiety, right? like by the time i got to doing speeches/presentations at uni i was having panic attacks... the thought of presenting to my classes made me fucking sick with fear and anxiety. nearly every subject i did at uni (even when i tried to avoid subs with public speaking assessments) and throughout school had some type of presentation/speech whatever you want to call it project/activity in it. even fucking SPORT/PDHPE at school and even philosophy at uni. and these fuckers are saying its not taught in schools. FUCK  OFF. like yeah, i get that they actually mean it in the professional sense.... where people can give the sappy bs motivational speeches or an insightful ted-talk worthy 20-minute presentation... or a great sales pitch. but like??? save that for mike “my dad phoned in to EY and i have a job waiting for me after uni” mcfuck in a business major or law degree? or for clubs like toastmasters? fuck. ok enough of the skills we learn in school. let’s move onto the businesslike-sounding ones of “people management”, “conflict management” and fucking “entrepreneurship”. like. what the fuck? okay in some sense people management and conflict management could potentially be used in managing friendships and relationships in your personal life. but like. i can feel the business underpinnings and i dont like it lmao. like why do you want fully functioning adults straight out of school, franklin? and there’s extra credit conflict management subjects at uni??? or at least my home uni had it... and i never did them bc they were intensive courses during summer break lol. but the one that pissed me off the most was entrepreneurship. LIKE ARE KIDS NOT FUCKING ALLOWED TO BE KIDS NOW????? well  apparently: “NO! YOU MUST ALWAYS THINK OF MONEY MAKING WAYS TO BE RICH! YOU MUST BE ENTREPRENEURIAL!!!!!! YOU MUST GENERATE BUSINESS IDEAS FROM THE TIME YOU CAN FUCKIN’ WALK!!!!! AND SPEAK!!! CHILDHOOD AND BEING A TEENAGER DON’T EXIST WORKER BEE!!!! CAPITALISM FOR ALL!!!! WORKER BEES!!! CAPITALISM IS YOUR FRIEND!!! OWN A BUSINESS BY THE TIME YOU’RE 8 YEARS OLD!” like it’s insidious asf. and it doesn’t acknowledge that most entrepreneurs are already privileged people anyway, who usually have some type of money to start off their venture (or that’s what it feels like anyway). and yeah throw all the “THIS BOY IS AN ENTREPRENEUR AT 18!!! 18!!!???? BY STARTING HIS OWN BUSINESS AT 12!!!! WHAT A CHAMP! 😁🙃” clickbait news stories at me, but i don’t fucking care. the concept and perceived over-importance and almost preaching mindset of entrepreneurship is slowly becoming insidious and toxic asf. call me paranoid. but that’s what it feels like.

but with those last three topics, i want to make a point that school curriculum’s (in australia at least, and probably worldwide) are so jam-packed already with sport (which is pointless and shitty), geography (ok how to read maps is important, but i never bothered to learned to do it properly), history, science, english etc etc etc..... that like.... where the actual fuck are the gonna jam the above bs (people management”, “conflict management” and entrepreneurship) into the curriculum???? and also teachers are already over-worked enough as it is, they don’t need another load of shitty subjects pushed onto them. and they sure asf don’t earn enough (especially in the states) to have this bs pushed into their subject schedules either. keep them at uni, where they should be. or just in the workplace/in the general public where they belong. and if people suggest that you could probably push these subjects into the year 11/12 business studies programs or elective commerce courses in years 9/10, save your goddamn breath. like i remember looking at business studies hsc papers in years 11/12 to see what they did.... and it was pretty chock-a-block anyway. and my experience of my year 9 commerce was horrible, to say the least. let kids be kids, for fucks sake. they shouldn’t have to be fully functioning adults in the workplace, by the end of high school, for fucks sake. AND ENTREPRENEURSHIP IS NOT AN ESSENTIAL SKILL????!!!! FUCK OFF WITH THAT SHIT, WILHELM. anyway. that’s my rant over about how i hate how corporate people are trying to be #relatablewiththeyouth🙃 with their shitty versions of “10 things i wish we learned in school” memes.... and failing.... without realising that this is why millennials are suspicious and cynical about meme usage by corporate people/corporations.

[reddie-to-go]

It Was Always You

So this was written by a friend of mine @princesschelliebelle and she asked if I could post it on my blog because hers isn’t IT or Reddie based, and I said of course because I absolutely love it and I think you all will to! Enjoy!

Eddie could only admit it to himself. He was a coward. Sure, he has the capacity to be more than brave when the time called for it. Hell, if that horrendous experience they all had 4 years ago in the sewers wasn't proof enough, he didn't know what was.

They had all stepped up to the plate, and although Eddie was small and more "fragile" than the rest, he had put in more than enough of his fair share of swings and attacks when they damned that thing back to hell where it belonged. Then why was he so afraid to admit such a huge part of him out loud?

He had just turned 17, and all of the losers were as tightly woven as they ever were, all seniors now at Derry High.

They all seemed to know and be comfortable with who they were.

Beverly and Ben have been dating since sophomore year, going strong and sappy, and certainly a shoe-in to be voted "cutest couple" in the yearbook superlatives this year.

Stan is seeing a nice Jewish girl who attends his father’s synagogue for a couple months now, and though he doesn't speak much about her, he seems fairly happy with her so far.

Mike is too busy for a romantic relationship, between school, helping his family on the farm, and a part-time job, no one blames him for not having the energy to hop into the dating scene.

Bill is happily single, and goes on dates with girls fairly often, but doesn't make anything more serious out of them, and seems quite content to keep things that way.

Richie on the other hand, was different.

Towards the tail-end of freshman year, Richie came out to the losers as bisexual. He had stated it as casually and simply as if he were discussing the weather or a school assignment.

All 6 were supportive of course, but had a few questions for him, of which Richie was incredibly comfortable answering.

"When did you know, Rich?" Bev piped up first. Richie didn't skip a beat before replying

"Part of me has always known. But when puberty rolled around, well, mother nature has a big way of letting you know what you're into...and when I say big, I do mean BIG-".

Richie and his suggestive hand gestures were cut short when Stan thumped a pillow in his face, with an accompanying

"Beep Beep, Dumbass."

Everyone cycled through some more questions, like "are you going to come out to anyone else?" and "have you ever kissed a boy before?".

The only one who sat stark silent was Eddie.

His jaw was clamped shut so hard, his teeth began to ache. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his burning face on his kneecaps. Was it hot in here? Does anyone else feel perilously close to passing out?

No, just Eddie?

Richie went on to explain that he was going to live his life authentically, and if he got shit about it from people at school? Fuck it, he already got tons of bullshit from his parents and Bowers and his gang, he is more than used to it.

Eddie felt himself flush all the way up to his ears when Richie spoke again.

He said he never kissed a boy OR girl, and how he wants to kiss someone he can see himself being with, falling in love with.

Eddie released a breath he didn't know he was holding, feeling embarrassingly relieved.

He was also a little surprised at Richie’s oddly romantic statement, which made Eddie's stomach twist in pleasure, despite himself.

Eddie Kaspbrak is gay.

He has known it for as long as he can remember, and he has been denying, suppressing, and suffocating those feelings for almost just as long.

That fateful summer when they were 13, was when he decided to stop lying to himself, albeit keeping it to himself, and himself alone. That was also the summer he realized he had feelings for his best friend in the whole world.

The same one who just happened to admit he was bisexual, with confidence and ease. Something brave that Eddie couldn't bring himself to do.

He hated himself for it.

That horrific day at the Neibolt house, ironically enough, is the day his feelings for Richie were realized.

That evil, fucking clown, leering over him, pinning him down, mocking him, as Eddie cried out in pain and fear, desperately trying to slap the monster with his unbroken arm

Bill and Richie came rushing in, and so did the others in the nick of time. But then, as the clown loomed towards them, claws ripping from his gloves and drool dripping from his rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth, Richie ran to his side.

As Pennywise ominously closed the distance between them, Richie crouched down and forced Eddie's face in his direction.

"Eddie! EDDIE, look at me! LOOK AT ME!" he shouted, keeping Eddie's gaze on him. For all they all knew, they were going to die that day, and Richie's biggest concern was keeping Eddie calm, helping him to be less afraid.

And in those frenzied, panicked moments, Eddie realized that if he was about to go, he was so grateful the last thing he got to see was Richie.

If he died looking at his crazy dark curls, those high cheekbones sprinkled with freckles, those chestnut eyes magnified behind those dorky, thick glasses, and a warm fuzzy feeling in his chest, he figured he had it better than most.

Ever since then, Eddie had it bad.

And god help him, did he have to fall for the most handsy, in your face, crazy person. Every hug, tickle, cheek kiss, tackle, suggestive joke, touch, and flirt was, well...just Richie.

Its how he had been for as long as they all had known each other, which at this point, was a decade at least. He was the quintessential class clown, the "trash mouth", the touchy-grabby, insane goofball who lived to make people laugh, at any cost.

He was this way with all of the losers, it wasn't anything new. Richie couldn't know how it gave Eddie butterflies, how it made his heart stutter, his head go fuzzy...and at times, make his body react in ways he would have to stealthily hide with a pillow, or a jacket, or a book, until Eddie willed it the hell away.

But then again, Richie was more touchy with Eddie than any of the other losers...but that's just because they were closer, right?

Eddie and Richie were walking home from school, the usual ridiculous banter bouncing between them. It was late November, and the air was crisp and a bit biting when the wind blew.

Eddie shuttered at a gust of wind, and turned to his right to see Richie with a large, teasing grin.

"Ahre you chilly, dahling? My, my, where ARE my manners? I can't have my handsome gentleman callah freezing his tits off!" Richie crooned in a god awful southern belle accent.

"Shut up, dick face, Im f-f-fine" Eddie said with a shiver. Richie laughed out loud and shrugged his leather jacket off his shoulders and placed it on Eddie in one swift motion.

"You're gonna freeze stupid, take it back! I appreciate it, but its too cold for you to have no jacket" Eddie said while Richie stomped on some fallen, crunchy leaves.

"Na, Eds, how could I possibly be cold when you keep me so hot and bothered all the time?" Richie replied, swinging an arm around Eddie's shoulder and squeezing him to his side.

Eddie looked down at the pavement to hide his blush and a small grin.

They decided to go to Richie's house. They often alternated, but more often than not, they ended up here. Sonia Kaspbrak was never fond of Richie, and would always make a fuss when he was around too often, so this was typically just easier.

It was a Friday, and it meant they didn't have to bother with homework or worry about how late they stayed up, and they could just have a sleepover, like usual.

As they walked into Richie's room, Eddie found himself softly sighing. He always felt this overwhelming feeling as if he had come home.

Sure, the dirty socks on the floor and the empty soda cans and candy wrappers made his skin crawl, but his room was so comforting in its familiarity. The music posters, the comic books, the bed strewn with his clothes.

Eddie sat down on the edge of his double sized bed. The room smelled like him. It smelt like his warm, spicy cologne, the sweet jolly ranchers that he seemed to have everywhere.

It smelt like fresh air, cigarettes, and something masculine, something that was just him. He felt like he could get high on the scent. And for a moment, Eddie felt like he was losing his damn mind.

Richie waltzed in holding a bag of chips and two bottles of water and jumped on the bed so hard that the springs groaned.

"Jesus, asshole, you aren't a feather, you know!" Eddie laughed and scolded him at the same time. Richie just responded by shoving a handful of chips in his mouth and chewing obnoxiously near Eddie's ear.

Richie certainly had changed in those 4 years since that summer. For one thing, he was tall. Very tall. He sprouted up to 6'2 and was lean, with wirey muscle covering his long, gangly limbs.

His face had matured and lost all that soft innocence of youth, and he had a defined, sharp jawline with cheekbones to match.

Eddie could only wish his changes through the years were as profound.

Eddie was only 5'8 and of average build and weight, very disappointingly ordinary if you asked him. Although he had lost some of the round innocence in his face from childhood, he still had a softness about him, and big round, doe-like eyes.

Eddie often solemnly thought that Richie wouldn't ever consider him in that way, for his plain appearance alone.                

Eddie absentmindedly flipped through a random comic he grabbed from Richie’s desk, while Richie appeared to be watching some dopey teenage drama on his small, grainy TV.

The 2 main characters, after enduring sexual tension you could cut with a knife, finally kissed in dramatic fashion.

Richie tossed a potato chip at the screen and scoffed as it bounced to the floor.

"You'd think with me playing for both teams Id have someone by now. After all, I am irresistible" Richie said as he stretched out his legs across Eddies.

Eddie snorted back a laugh and said "Rich, as 'irresistible' as you might be, you actually have to put in an effort. I don't think I've ever seen you on a date, or kiss anyone...". As Eddie trailed off, Richie bit his lip, looking thoughtful.

Eddie could almost feel the shift in the room. For once, Richie was actually being serious. A few moments of silence passed before Richie asked

"have you ever been on a date or kissed anyone, Eds?"

Eddie shifted uncomfortably before telling what was actually the truth.

"Yes, I have actually. I have been on 4 dates, and I kissed each of those girls. It didn't work out, but hey, that's my luck."

And the funny thing was, that wasn't a lie.

Eddie did go on those dates and kiss those girls, but it was his last pathetic efforts to try to be straight. To stop thinking about Richie like that. But at the end of every awkward kiss, he felt weird and detached. It felt like a poorly rehearsed chore.

After the last girl in junior year, he decided to stop this pointless endeavour.

Richie cast his eyes down and shook his head before he spoke

"I’ve actually never kissed anyone at all...I’m 17 and I have never done it..." Richie had said it so quietly, it was almost a whisper. Eddie had so much nervous energy coursing through him he felt like he might jump out of his skin. Suddenly, Eddie felt a surge of courage, something in his gut that said 'now or never'.

"I’m gay, Rich" Eddie murmured, fidgeting with a loose thread on Richie’s shirt.

He felt as though his whole body had pins and needles, and he felt his chest tighten with anxiety.

Eddie tried to laugh off the serious admission by following it with,

"And hey, don't feel like you're missing out too much. Kissing isn't all its made out to be. I never felt any fireworks, and those poor girls probably thought they were kissing a dead fish". He half-heartedly chuckled.

He couldn't meet Richie’s gaze. The unusual silence made Eddie want to scream. You could hear a pin drop.

The one-time "trashmouth" Tozier had nothing to say, and it was killing Eddie with every moment that passed.

 Suddenly, Eddie felt sick. A wave of nausea, sadness, pent-up emotion that felt like a sucker punch to the gut. He also felt like a fool. He told his best friend, the only person he has ever told, that he was gay, and all he could do was sit there and stare.

When a man of many words suddenly is at a loss for them, Eddie could only assume the worst. Tears pricked at his eyes and stung. One lonely tear trickled down his hot cheek. Richie finally spoke.

"I never kissed anybody because I never found anyone available who I felt a special connection with. Someone to be vulnerable with. Someone who understands me." He paused, and then continued

"And I think that you're wrong." Eddie sniffled pathetically and looked up at Richie at last.

Richie’s cheeks were blazing red, and he looked so beautiful.

"What was I wrong about, Rich?" Eddie asked as Richie shifted closer on the bed.

"Well, I may not have kissed anyone, but I think it is worth the hype, Eds." Richie said quietly, as his eyes dropped to Eddies soft, parted lips. Eddie felt his heart start to race, as he dared himself to say

"Well, how can you prove that?"

Richie’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he let out a shuttering breath. Eddie felt paralyzed to his spot on the bed.

Before Eddie could have another thought, Richie leaned forward and pressed his lips to Eddies. Eddie didn't have the vocabulary to explain how good it felt.

It was a brief kiss, close-mouthed, and soft, 4 or 5 seconds at most. But in all of his life, he hadn't felt anything like he had in those brief moments.

A spark isn't enough to explain it. It was a like an electrical circuit was finally connected, completed, and a powerful and euphoric energy passed back and forth between them. It took his breath away.

Richie pulled away and laid his head back on the pillow. Richie’s heart was beating so fast that he was shaking ever so slightly. Richie said, in a shaky voice

"Well....at least for me, I think I proved my poi-"

But he was cut off by Eddie's lips on his once more. But this time, Eddie wasn't holding back. He had wanted this for so long, that he had not one more ounce of restraint.

He kissed him firmly, over and over, leaning his chest against his, barely allowing either of them to breathe.

He had a taste, and now he was addicted.

He moved his mouth down Richie’s jaw and kissed underneath it and all down his neck. Richie moaned softly, and Eddie felt himself grow hard at the sound.

Suddenly, Richie flipped Eddie over and crawled between his legs, one knee on either side of his leg. He leaned down and ran his tongue along the edge of Eddies lower lip. Eddie had to suppress a shiver as he opened his mouth to give him access.

Eddie could hardly believe that Richie had never done this before. His kisses were soft but passionate, wet but not sloppy, and it drove Eddie absolutely fucking wild.

Apparently, Eddie wasn't the only one being driven crazy though. Richie came closer and pushed his body against his, and Eddie could immediately feel how hard Richie was against his thigh.

It made Eddie moan out loud. Heat coiled tight in his stomach, and he felt almost drunk. He reached up a wove his fingers in his thick curls, and gently tugged.

Richie sat up and pulled Eddie with him so he was seated on his lap, and then roughly ran his fingertips up and down his back.

Somewhere, in a teeny tiny part of his mind, Eddie thought 'This is amazing, but its new. Slow down'.

To say this was like a drug would be an understatement, but he knew they had to stop, for the moment anyway.

After what felt like an eternity of arguing with his better sense, Eddie pulled away. Richie adorably whimpered at the loss of contact. It took all of Eddie's strength to put this moment on pause, but he had something to say, before they got carried away.  

They sat there catching their breath, before they were consumed with a fit of giggles. They couldn't explain why or contain it, but they kept laughing until their sides hurt.

Once he regained composure, Eddie began to speak.

"After the worlds best make-out session and the biggest confession I’ve ever made, I’m having trouble processing my thoughts. So please forgive me if this is a crazy ramble, ok?" Richie leaned against the headboard and nodded.

"Dude, you are loud, crude, a total and complete slob, and you have no concept of personal space. You tell the most stupid jokes and at least half of your accents are crap, and you drive the other losers insane like you have a quota to meet."

Richie furrowed his brow, looking almost embarrassed. Eddie continued before Richie could speak,

"But...one thing remains consistent. When I’m with you, I feel like I can overcome anything, like I can conquer the world. You don't make my weaknesses feel like a flaw, just another piece of me. No one I've ever known cares more, protects more, or makes me laugh the way that you do. At the end of the day, you have so much love to give. How could I not fall for you?"

Eddie gulped and stared at the pattern on the bedspread.

"You don't have to feel the same way, Rich...I get it, I really do. I mean, you've waited this long to find that special person...and I’m just me. We can pretend this never happened, if you want. I just want you to be happy...."

Eddie was frantic, tears blurring his vision. Richie sat up, leaning forward quickly, grabbing Eddie's hands in his enormous ones, and spoke.

"Hey dipshit, its always been you."

Eddie whipped his head back up, and looked at him incredulously.

"But...but..." Eddie began, but Richie piped up again,

"I never thought you were an option available to me. And god fucking knows its difficult to be with someone else when everything you want is around you almost every single day. It has always been you, it will always be you, Spaghetti." Richie smirked broadly at him, and Eddie lunged forward and squeezed him so hard to him that Richie let out a little squeak. Eddie leaned in to whisper in his ear

"Don't call me that. Way to taint the best moment of my life, fuckface"

Eddie began to laugh at the familiar joking between them. From now on, so many things wouldn't be the same. It was a kind of scary feeling. Richie cupped Eddie's face and gently kissed his forehead, sighing happily.

Eddies heart swelled inside his ribcage, and Eddie found himself thinking that he actually hoped nothing would ever be the same again.

[anterocash]

Seattle, 2020

“Happy Halloween!” Larry looks jovial, probably already started drinking and Cash sighs, rolling his neck around to get prepared for the onslaught of bullshit heading his way. 

Cash sits down in front of him and surveys the menu, “isn’t your girlfriend super religious? Are you allowed to celebrate such a holiday?” He teases never taking his eyes off of the menu. He’s not paying so he’s going to order the most expensive thing on the menu for Larry to pay for. Larry types away rapidly on his phone, the cigar next to him burning away. 

That’s why he always picks places with outdoor seating, fond of food trucks as well. He’s been smoking most of his life and he doubts he will stop any time soon. The ash retains its shape and its oddly satisfying to Cash despite how disgusting the scent is, he was nose blind to it at one point, felt like Larry was by his side every second he wasn’t in surgery or rehab, it doesn’t even feel like it really happened and something twists in Cash’s gut. 

“Are you going to wait until I’m stuffed to drop the bomb on me?” He says once the waiter is out of earshot, having given his order, “I don’t have a girlfriend,” Larry finally says putting his phone down only to replace it with his glass, taking a sip of his whiskey. “She wasn’t a girlfriend she was just a friend.” The pained look on his face freaks Cash out and he takes a sip of his own drink, “tell me so I can get my appetite back ... dad — “ 

“I found him,” Larry cuts in, finally ruining his ash formation to pick up his cigar, taking a hit he sighs. “Both of ‘em actually, kid. I found your parents.” 

This is good. Right? This is what Cash wanted, his recovery process was going in its own way and then it suddenly hit a brick wall and he’s felt weird ever since. Everyone has a family whether it’s biological or hand picked they exist, Cash loves his makeshift family and wouldn’t trade it for the world but that doesn’t mean he can’t yearn for his mother’s love. 

Sometimes it hits him out of nowhere, this urge to be held and told everything is going to be already — not even that. She held him for nine months, he just wants nine seconds if that’s not too much to ask for. He wants to remember more of his past and no one in his life can give him that but his mother and father. So why does Larry look like they’ve died or something? 

“No — no, Cash they aren’t dead.” Larry rushes to say, Cash must have said it out loud, the food comes out faster than he could have anticipated and the older man couldn’t be more grateful, digging into his salmon with gusto, it gives him some time to figure out how to tell Cash this. They aren’t the sappy type and he’s loved and equally hated how much he’s seen himself in the writer and Larry knows Cash deserves a better man for a father figure but that man is not his real father either, sadly.  “Eat,” he motions to Cash’s untouched plate after he swallows. 

“I’m not hungry.” Cash mutters and crosses his arms against his chest and he doesn’t look any bit of the oversized 26 year old he is. And he’s Larry’s petulant teenage son, he was essentially a baby all over when he found him in that hospital bed connected to tubes and wires, Larry never figured out what he felt while he stood in that doorway, Cash’s manuscript in his fist, he knew he got into a car accident but he wasn’t expecting this when he got to the hospital, lying to the receptionist to get access to his room. 

“Dammit, Cash —“ he sounds so paternal it startles them both and Cash has a scowl on his face as he eats and he looks very much the bigger man he’s become since laying frail in his hospital bed that fast. 

“Well?” Cash says impatiently, wiping his mouth, crumbling his napkin with his fist, would he hit Larry? No, never, Larry feels stupid for even considering it. He’s terrified of how this will change their relationship. 

“They don’t want to see you.” 

He lets the words hang in the air as he relights his cigar, the smoke hurting his lungs, the perfect salve for this conversation. 

He’s not going to speak until Cash says something.

[jj-ktae]

질투 (Jiltu) (2/2)

Title : 질투 (Jiltu) - Jealousy

Author : Myself

Genre : Drama, fluff, Angst

Words : 2351

Summary : Jinyoung can’t help it. He knows you, he knows your heart, but he can’t help it. 

PART I / Part II / Epilogue 

Part II

When Jinyoung opened his eyes, he found himself alone. The bed was not even warm, and he panicked for a moment, remembering the previous night’s events. His naked body jerked out of the bed and he took the now cold sheets right on time to cover his body. He walked fast and opened the door, finding the apartment empty. He explored every room, the sheet sweeping the floor and circling his body messily. His gripped the material tighter when he didn’t find you, a trembling hand going to his hair to mess his locks more than they already were.

Phone.

He ran back into your room and started searching for the device left in his jean’s back-pocket. He needed to call you, now. Not finding you when he woke up wasn’t the most surprising stuff. Today was different though, because he was scared. He knew you, and how you could be.

Maybe you had enough of him. Maybe this night was your last together.

He almost teared his phone out of his pocket and unlocked the screen, but at the same time, the sound of the door opening made him snap his head up and he ran out of the room, breath short and sheet still around his lower part, showing his toned chest.

You closed the door behind you and took off your shoes, jumping in fear when you found him, looking at you, the phone in his hand, and his face pale.

“What’s...wrong?” You tried, the grocery bag over your shoulder.

Jinyoung opened his mouth and closed it again, before sighing, relieved.

“I just...I thought...” He felt stupid all of a sudden, but even more happy to see you here.

“Yes? Just woke up?” You walked to the kitchen and didn’t notice his pitiful state following you while clinging on the sheet.

“Yes. You were not here.” Jinyoung breathed and you nodded from the sink, taking out bottles and vegetable.

“You were sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you up.” Your answer wasn’t enough for him it seemed, because you felt him wrap his hand around your body from behind.

“I’m so stupid...I thought you left.” You felt his face brush between your shoulder blades.

You slowly turned around, and his pained face met yours. His hair was dishevelled, his eyes a bit puffy and most importantly, he was half naked and the sheet was slowly going down.

“What’s wrong? You’re acting weird. It’s not the first time I���m going out while you sleep.” Your arms went around his neck. He barely had the time to reach for the sheet before he ended naked like a small worm.

A very worried worm.

“It’s because of yesterday. I’m worried.” His free hand pulled you close to him and he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“I told you we needed to talk, I never said I was going to escape. It’s still my flat, you know.” You chuckled but he wasn’t having it.

“What do you want to talk about, then?” Jinyoung raised his head and blinked at you, not understanding why you still needed to talk after the amazing night of love he had given you.

“You know it...we have to sort this out.” You explained and he sighed, parting from you and walking toward the living room, still holding the sheet. You could see his butt moving under it.

Damn you, Jinyoung.

“I’ll be waiting in the living-room, if you want to talk.” He said from the other room and you let the groceries where they were.

Jinyoung was sitting on the sofa, beddind still around his body and looking into space. You sat next to him and crossed your legs on the fluffy couch.

“So....about yesterday...” You started. Jinyoung was nodding, lips pursed.

He hated these moments. He knew where this was going. You were going to break up with him.

“Look, I’m sorry I said all these things. I didn’t respect you and I could never forgive myself for that. Just...please don’t tell me things like ‘let’s take a break’ or anything.” He pleaded and you raised a brow at him.

“What? No! Why do you want me to say that? I just want you not to freak out every time I meet with my best friend.” He looked at you and said nothing.

“I won’t, I’ll never mention it, I swear.” He answered rapidly, chest heavy with apprehension.

“Jinyoung...you need to explain it to me. Is it because you don’t trust me? I get that you’re away a lot and feel insecure about us, but is it because you think I can...do things...”

Jinyoung shook his head. “Never. You’d never do that, I know it. I’m away a lot and it’s putting a lot of pressure on you. I’m exhausted whenever I have a break, and you end up doing all these amazing things with him whenever you two meet. I feel like I’m not good enough, and I feel like you don’t deserve this misery. It hurts, it really does.”

You didn’t know what to say. Most of the time, Jinyoung was the stable one, the robust guy with scientific explanations to everything. Now he looked helpless, like a small lamb scared of being abandoned.

“But I’m telling you I’m okay with it. You said it, I knew what your job was when I started dating you.”

“Well that’s bullshit. This doesn’t mean you’ll always be okay with it. You know it.” He looked so sad.

“Then what, do you want to break up?” You asked and he snapped his head toward you, shocked.

“NO! no! Wh-why? Do yo-you want to?” He stuttered and you laughed at him.

“I don’t. I’m just trying to find a way to make you feel better.” You said.

He pulled on the sheet to cover a bit more of his body and inched closer to you. “I don’t want to feel like I’m losing you.” He admitted, and you understood how insecure he was about your relationship.

“You won’t lose me... We won’t stay in this situation for forever, and maybe we need more communication? I mean, if there are things you want me to do with you, let’s promise each other we will do it together! Also, I thought about it, and I should be available whenever you come back. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, and we need more dedication toward each other. Don’t you think so...?” You trailed off and stopped talking when he looked away from you, silent.

“...Jinyoung?” You tried, reaching for his hand clinging on the sheet.

“I just...” He whispered and you stopped moving. After what felt like an eternity, he looked at you again, and something in his eyes made you blink softly at him.

He was moved. He was moved and he was having a damn hard time trying not show it to you.

“Are you okay? I’ve been thinking about us ever since yesterday-“

He took your hand “You’re perfect.”

“What?”

“You’re just. I can’t. Damn it, I can’t make a simple sentence now.” He let his head fall on the couch and looked at you before smiling “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You answered and he reached for your face, bringing you closer to him.

“Right now, you can’t possibly love me as much as I love you. Believe me.”

“So you agree with me?”

“Of course. We’ve been drifting from each other, and I think I need to feel that I’m still loved even if my life is crazy. I’ll do my best too, I’ll show you I can be a perfect boyfriend just like you’re are. God, you’re doing this while I was the worst jerk to you yesterday. You should be slapping my face right now. Why are you so nice?” He pecked your lips a couple of times, making you giggle.

“I just want you to be happy with me.”

“Stop, stop stop stop. We’re being too sappy. I love it way too much.” His mouth found yours again and he smiled, leaning to create more contact and totally forgetting about this annoying sheet softly revealing more of him.

“Have you been working out?” You asked between kisses.

“Yeah. I was done with this teenager body of mine.”

“You have a great butt.”

“Yours is not so bad either.”

“Oh and one last thing,” You started, adjusting your legs and letting them rest on him. “work on that impulsivity of yours.”

“I’ll try to.” Jinyoung answered, and his body shifted even closer to yours. He felt so warm against you.

It was peaceful. You both liked peace, and the moment felt suddenly so perfect. All this sadness and hard feelings were fading away, replaced with good intents. Jinyoung was nuzzling every part of your body his face could meet, breathing in your familiar and heart-warming scent. His arms were tight against you, like a silent proof of your importance. He didn’t want you to go away.

“Come to think of it, I didn’t know you were this jealous...” You asked again, hand grazing over the smooth skin of his shoulder.

“I’m not jealous.” He grunted, head dipping further into your neck. “You being close to another man makes me go crazy. I can’t help it.” He explained, careful to keep a neutral tone.

“Yeah right, you’re not.” You cooed, your other hand going to his chest and he sighed against your skin.

“Go ahead, tease me. I deserve it.” His defeated tone make you chuckle but you stopped when you felt his hand over your stomach, slowly going up to your chest. You shivered and it gave him the courage to pull you closer to him, and you were suddenly both laying down on the couch.

“You’re pretty much totally naked, now.” Your eyes travelled up his body and you felt so small under his shiny orbs.

“Well somebody escaped this morning and made me freak out.” His face drew closer and you closed your eyes when his plum lips met with your jaw, pecking it. He lifted the sheet and trapped your body against his, and the feeling of his heated skin was too much to handle. It was electrifying.

“I love you.” Jinyoung whispered, and you could only nod while his hand went to your black jean and pushed it down, slowly. Your hands were groping everywhere, the feeling of his hardening muscles driving you crazy. Your phone rang a couple of times, and you tried ignoring it, but Jinyoung stopped moving after the fifth ring. You grunted but your hand slowly went to the table, searching for the noisy device.

Jinyoung recognised the voice instantly when it spoke and you blinked at him, worried.

Hey! Need advices, can you help? I can provide ice-cream, in exchange!

Your best-friend’s voice worked like a spell on Jinyoung, whose hands detached themselves slowly from around you. He laid down and rubbed his eyes, and you could see he was doing his best to control the uncomfortable feeling.

“What kind of help do you need?” You tried, eyes scanning for Jinyoung’s face but he was quiet, eyes looking at the ceiling.

Need to pick an outfit, I’m hopeless. Shall I come and pick you up?

Jinyoung scoffed and you smiled weakly at his annoyed state, your free hand cupping his cheek. He looked at you and instead of looking mad like you thought he would, you found something else.

Sadness.

“I’ll have to pass on this one. I’m not alone.” You explained and heard a squeak on the other end of the line.

He is back? You should have told me earlier! God, I’m so sorry. I thought you had no plans for today. Oh and tell him about the wedding invitation, dumbass! The line went dead and you laughed a bit before letting the phone fall back on the table.

“Wedding invitation?” Jinyoung asked, but you could see how his face had changed.

“Yes. I told you he had a fiancé. He’s been preparing for the wedding, and he invited you, but since we’re not officially dating, I thought...” Also, it’s not like Jinyoung had been hating on your best-friend every time you mentioned him, but you decided not to talk about this.

“Would you like me to go?” Your boyfriend asked, and you nodded before you could think, eyes expectant.

“Then I guess I need a suit...” he said playfully before turning his body toward you again.

“Really? You’ll come? Can you promise this?” You beamed, hand softly tapping his chest.

“Yes, I promise. Also, I need to be good-looking so you won’t be ashamed of dating me.” You hit his chest and he laughed.

“Stop saying nonsense...Anyways, shall I tell him you’ll officially go as one of his friends?”

Jinyoung scoffed “I’ll officially go as your boyfriend, that’s what I am, right?”

“But there are going to be pictures...” As much as you wanted this, you knew it was a risky situation.

“I know. I’ve been thinking about this, and I think we need to burst our bubble. I need to be able to officially claim you as mine. I really think I’ll get less insecure when I’ll be able show everyone how wonderful you are. Are you okay with this? Also, a wedding is a perfect place to officialise a relationship.” He took your hand and looked down, smiling shyly.

“I..I thought...” You started, but stopped. You had no problems with secretly dating Jinyoung, but it made sense.

Maybe you both needed this.

“Do you want to wait?” The poor Jinyoung asked, but you shook your head. You were too happy to jump around.

“No. No. I just, I’m so happy.” You sighed and closed your eyes.

“I’ve seen you happier.” He teased but you slapped his chest and hugged him, inwardly marvelling at the softness of his creamy skin.

“I’m just living the moment. Let a girl enjoy her jealous boyfriend’s warm and naked body.”

“I’m not jealous!” He protested, offended.

“Sure thing, baby.” You mocked and kissed him.

AN : Let me know if I should do an Epilogue :) 

[brillsfaniverse]

Coping Mechanisms

Cas had been brought back, Sam never had any doubt in his mind that this would happen. The angel had died before, he always returned. He'd been returned human, but he'd been a human before, and this time Dean wasn't going to kick him out of the bunker. If anything, Dean was going to keep him in the bunker as long as he possibly could, for his safety. Sam smiled at his brother as he helped Cas out of the Impala and into the bunker. He looked at Jack sitting in the back seat, his eyes wide, worried, confused. He didn't have a mother, a father. The angel who had been looking after him was suddenly human; and the two guys who had wanted to take away his grace were now protecting him. It was going to be a long year. He could feel it in his bones. They were going to have to raise this child, who was already a man, and they were going to have to do it the Winchester way. If they could instill in him their values, then maybe, just maybe, Jack could be good. Sam shivered when their eyes met. There was some part of him that reminded the younger Winchester of Lucifer. He supposed it was the eyes. Sam walked to Jack's door and opened it, leaning down, he adopted a calm and pleasant face, hoping it was soothing. "Hey, uh, Buddy," The word sounded foreign on his tongue, he wondered why Dean used it for Cas so often, "Come on in, we can set you up with a room. You should get some rest." Jack nodded and got out of the car, his hand was clasped around a flash drive that he'd clearly found in his room. Sam didn't want to pry, so they walked in silence through the bunker. There were many things that seemed to catch the newborn's attention, most of them were shiny, and Sam had to suppress his laugh. He was sort of like Dean. They stopped at Mary's room, and Sam felt bad, but it was the only other made up room in the bunker. He couldn't put Jack in a room without blankets or a sense of warmth. It would only serve to push the Nephilim toward a path of darkness. No, he needed the feeling of home, and right, and acceptance. Mary had done a good job of making her room feel just like that. "Watch?" He asked, suddenly holding out the flash drive. Sam nodded. "One second, I'll go get my computer for you, just have a seat." He led Jack to the bed and gave him a robe. The clothes they'd given him hadn't fit properly, and he seemed to enjoy the soft fabric of the robe. He held it to his face, rubbing his cheek along it. Sam quickly left the room and grabbed his laptop out of his own, he passed by Castiel's room to find it empty. They must have gone to Dean's. Sam smiled slightly at the realization, but brushed it off, heading back to where Jack was staring at the flash drive, and it looked like he was crying. His eyes flashed yellow when Sam reentered and Sam held his hands up in surrender, the laptop was housed in one and Jack seemed to relax. "Just gonna set this here," He said, walking to the bed, he opened the computer, scoffing at the porn, he quickly closed it and muttered a sorry and forgive his brother. Jack didn't reply and Sam pointed to the USB slot, "Just put it in here." Jack slid the drive in and a video popped up, it was Kelly, she was smiling. "Mom." Jack said, a small smile on his face. Sam sighed and backed out of the room, Jack nodded at him in thanks and Sam shut the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment. Reviewing the events of the day. Kelly was dead, Crowley was dead, Cas had died and come back. His mother was stuck in an alternate apocalypse universe with Lucifer. So many people had died over the past few weeks. Mick was dead, and they hadn't had a clue. He died because they'd changed his ideologies. It was a sobering thought, how many people had died because of their connection to the Winchesters? Sam walked along the corridors to Dean's room and found his brother sitting at his own bedside, staring at a sleeping Cas like he might disappear any moment. He knocked softly and Dean looked up, Sam beckoned him. Dean nodded and looked back to Cas, though it seemed like a personal moment, Sam couldn't look away as Dean ran a hand through Castiel's hair and then brushed his fingers down the sleeping man's cheek. Dean smiled and sighed, scrubbing away a tear that betrayed him; he stood and glared at Sam before walking straight past his younger brother and out into the situation room. He had somehow managed to quickly grab a bottle of whisky along the way and was taking a swig straight from the bottle when Sam joined him. Sam sighed at his brother. Though he had Cas back, he still had to watch him die. Sam could still see the white flash of light when he closed his eyes. It made him flinch, it made his heart rate increase, and his stomach twist in an awful sort of way. He could only imagine how it made Dean feel. "We lost him." Dean's voice was broken, only slightly, only as much as he would let it be. But broken as it was, it was also filled with some sense of hope, "He was gone, Sam. Cold, lifeless, his wings were burned into the ground at my feet. And there was nothing I could do." "Dean-" "I know, I know we have him back. But Sam, he still, right there-" Sam reached out and squeezed his brothers shoulder. Dean covered his hand and seemed to appreciate the touch, the sentiment. "Did you tell him?" Sam wasted no time getting to the point. He wasn't going to sugar coat it anymore, and if he had any say in the matter, he wasn't going to let his brother hide it anymore. "Tell him what?" The hand was gone, the brokenness was gone. His voice was back to its stoic, closed off normality, and Sam wasn't having any of it "Cut the shit, Dean," Sam said, dropping into the seat across from his brother, trying to get him to look him in the eyes, "Look, not to bring down the mood, but I have a pretty good idea what it feels like to lose someone you care about before you get to tell them that you care about them. The only difference is, you're getting a second chance to do it." Dean's eyes went wide as he looked at his brother. It was obvious that Eileen hadn't been on his mind, it was obvious that he hadn't even considered the fact that Sam had a connection with her, had feelings that he'd never been able to act on. The timing had been off, she hadn't been around, he didn't want to push it. He wasn't sure if she'd felt the same. "Dammit, Sammy. I'm sorry, Eileen, I didn't even-" "No, you didn't. But you were sort of busy losing the man you love, so I get that. But seriously, take it from me. I'd give anything to have Eileen walk through that door right now. And you know what I would do? What's the first thing I would do if she did?" Dean shrugged and took another swig. "I'd walk straight up to her and take her face in my hands, I'd look her in the eyes, and I'd tell her that I think she's incredible, one of a kind. And then I'd kiss her, I'd ask her to stay, and then I would never let her go." "You sappy son of a bitch." Dean huffed a small laugh around the mouth of the bottle and took a longer drink than normal. "You might be saying that, but you're thinking about it now. And if you want my advice, if I were you, I'd go into that room, wake Cas up, and tell him that I love him." "What if it's not what he wants?" Dean sighed as he set the bottle down, his fingers played with the label, picking at it. "Bullshit, last time he was dying, he told you that he loved you." "He told all of us-" "Shut up, he said 'I love you' while looking directly at you. At you, Dean. Not me, not Mom. His eyes never left you as he said it. He specified you, and then said it to all of us. If you don't think that Cas loves the hell out of you, then you're dumber than I ever imagined. You're not stupid Dean, stop acting like an insecure teenage girl." "I'm an insecure adult male, there's a difference." "The difference is, you will get up, you will take this chance, and you'll do it before it's too late. Again." Dean nodded and stood abruptly, he picked up the bottle and took too long of a drink before slamming it down and running the back of his hand across his mouth. He turned to walk away before he stopped and looked back at Sam. "I'm sorry about Eileen." "I'm used to it. Hey, maybe Chuck will take pity on me and bring her back, he did it for you with Cas so many times." "That's the spirit, Sammy." Dean half smiled a sad thing before he turned again and walked away with a renewed sense of purpose. Sam smiled, he reached across the table and grabbed the bottle Dean relied on so much and brought it to his lips. The brown liquid was bitter and it burned as it traveled down his throat. The warmth in his chest almost eased the ache and emptiness he felt there. He got up and followed Dean. He knew he shouldn't listen in to such an important conversation, but honestly he just wanted to make sure Dean would actually do it. "Dean?" He heard Castiel say through the crack in the door, "Is everything alright?" The man's voice was heavy with sleep, he was groggy and obviously confused. "Everything's awesome, Cas. I just," Dean stopped short and Sam could imagine that he was reaching you to take Castiel's face in his hands. "Dean?" His voice was slightly muffled, Sam suppressed a laugh at the idea that Dean had squeezed Cas's cheeks too much. "Sorry, I know this is probably weird, but I just, I wanted you to know how amazing you are. How much I appreciate you, and need you." Dean sighed as Sam did the same. He hoped his brother would be able to get the words out. "Thank you, Dean." There was a small crack in Castiel's voice and Sam swallowed the lump in his throat, "I think that you-" He was cut off, there were no words for a while; until there were. "I love you, Cas. And not like a brother, not in the same way I love Sam, or mom. Hell, I don't think I've ever loved anyone the way I love you. And I've been an idiot, and I've been scared, and angry, and I don't even know what else. But I just need you to know-" Dean was cut off this time and Sam smiled in the silence. His brother had finally been able to tell Castiel everything, and Sam liked to think that it was his words that finally pushed him over that threshold. "I love you, Dean." Castiel's voice was quiet and Sam nodded, taking another swig to calm his swirling thoughts of Eileen, all the what if's that we're beginning to plague him. How he had wished that one day he could have said those words to her, how he had been brushing up on his sign language so that they might one day have been able to communicate without words, without reading lips. Without Dean understanding what they were saying. He'd wanted everything with her in a way he'd never imagined. And now that hope, that dream was shattered. He found his way back to his room and picked up his tablet, the least he could do was research a way to find Mary. Or maybe he'd find a case. Yeah, a case to keep his mind off of things. He took another drink, and let the burn wash away his broken heart.

[grimbo-the-gemlin]

Warning this is a long and personal post

You can ignore this, I just found something while cleaning up tonight and I want to reminisce. (I also don't know how to get that keep reading shit on mobile so SUFFER)

So, I've only been in one relationship in my life so far which seems fair since I just finished High School. It lasted for three years and for being a high school relationship and for being my first I can say I was very lucky. Our relationship ended well like it was a mutual understanding that we weren't happy and weren't moving forward. We were really stuck in a routine and I think he was bored of me. I was way too anxious around his family and going past my comfort zone and I just constantly let him down. Overall I look back on a lot of it and it makes me happy. I was very lucky to have had that storybook crush start to a relationship, but it's so hard for me to look back on a lot of it now because the aftermath of our break-up is where shit went down hill and in all honesty that's my fault.

He was talking to another girl before we broke up, and it was one of his friends ex's. Long story short I was suspicious for months and literally was on some conspiracy theorist shit. When really it was none of my business. I was too weak and afraid to approach my ex about it, but when I finally did he never even responded. So me and his friend didn't find out until prom that they were dating and the two of us were fucking DEVASTATED. I still wasn't quite over him and I imagined us going to prom for way too long (it's stupid and cliche I know but we were gonna go to laser tag ok) I was so fucking bitter for the wrong reasons for so long. Me and my ex tried to be friends but I just couldn't do it. It really just hurt me how he wouldn't tell me the truth and how he acted like everything was hunky dory when I was hurting. That's just not what friends do. In the past we had a good relationship and I still hope for the best for him, but I swear all I am to him now is a stranger and a fucking joke. We didn't talk at all our senior year... And he was a huge part of my life for three years. It was just really hard and I felt like no one really understood or took me seriously cause it was like "TEENAGE BULLSHIT" and it totally is.

Anyways I never was really mad at him though. I did the worst thing ever and it's like a built up thing in society idk but I was bitter towards his new girlfriend. I never said anything to her or did anything to her but there was just so much fucking anger and resentment that I directed towards her. When really we didn't know a fucking thing about each other. But I really regret this (I'll never talk to her and personally I do think she was a little over the top for me to ever get along with her but still) because during my senior year I was put into her position.

I had a backstage romance OOhhoooooooOOHHH sooo uuhh this is so terrible to admit and it'd probably be good to say I regret this, but I had a good time and it felt very good to feel wanted again. Maybe that's selfish idk. Sooo anyway I did stage crew for our musical something I originally started doing with my ex but I went for it again. Nothing really picked up between me and this guy (yeah ok I'm bi but I am too friendly with all the girls I know and there's something built in me that makes me feel regret if I'm attracted to girls I'm friends with. Probably some built in societal shit) until closer to show week. When we were all stuck backstage together. It just started with him kind of getting in my space and flirting with me and then it fucking escalated from there. I was very afraid 1. He was like scaring me at first 2. It was like a thrill kind of thing so don't be worried he wasn't threatening 3. This is where it goes bad.... He had a girlfriend and I was afraid if he got to close I'd kiss him as a form of self defense :)))))))) (idk what the fuck I'm thinking). Fast forward through ups and downs of us flirting and then getting really depressed. Finally I'm like pouting at fucking pizza place after a show cause I'm a selfish bitch who needs attention.

No alright that wasn't it. He was reminding me of my ex boyfriend. He was dragging his girlfriend through the mud cause he didn't want to hurt her feelings and I fucking knew how that felt. It makes you feel like your partner thinks your stupid. I was not the first person he had flirted with behind her back which hurts me as well cause she's a super nice and sweet girl. I felt really guilty cause I knew her position. Neither side feels good is what I was starting to learn. The entire night this guy didn't talk to me until his girlfriend left and I was like uh no fuck that and continued to be a pouty bitch. Eventually I got a text from him.... He said that he liked me and that he wanted to continue to talk, but of course. Right now ain't good. Skip forward him and his girlfriend break up, but she thinks he's leaving her for me which wasn't the case. Me and him eventually make out. I slept over at his house. In his bed. We were holding hands some really sappy shit cuddled. It was like what I needed. And I don't regret any of it and I fucking cherish that Monday on spring break so much. Sorry not sorry. But me and him try to keep flirting and all ready I realize he's not in a good place. This is all too fresh and he tries to please her at prom and kisses her one last time but she gets confused. Then that's kind of the end of it for me and him. We actually knew each other when we were kids. Apparently he chased me around church and would try to kiss me. (God the straights amiright)

But in all honesty I still really like him. And I still think and hope that there's a possibility we can have another moment like that midnight to Monday morning. He had me torn a lot this spring but he also gave a lot of excitement to my life and I guess I still want that thrill. Is that a bad thing. We had a playlist but I deleted it.... He hadn't talked a lot this summer, but he came to my grad party and after all my friends and his family had left.... He stayed for hours. Him and I just walked around and talked like minutes literally turned to hours. We chased each other around it was really some BULLSHIT. Even my sister's caught on and said he obviously likes me but I'm really not sure. I've been really forward and honest about how I feel, but I know him and his ex still hang out like all the time. And I'm leaving so what's the point. I think it may be one sided but he did tell me before that he's always been attracted to me and there are still feelings there. He just doesn't want a relationship which I don't really want either.... I kind of just wanna Smack Lips Ya Know. Anyway this was some BULLSHIT. Bye. Also to all my irl friends who know who I'm talking about. I'm so sorry I'm a terrible person... I didn't get happiness from someone else's misery. But I did find a lot of happiness and sadness through these times and I don't think I'm a bad person for liking someone. I don't think the girl that dated my ex is a bad person for liking him when she did either. Of course I felt that way at the time.... Maybe that makes me a bad person.

To sum up. I like guys but at what cost.