#like if someone is pacing at a bus stop I assume that they are energetic. And maybe they are angry or excited or on drugs. but that’s it

[natugood]

Over the last like three months I’ve had so many brain explosion revelations about sense of self and perception, like in November I was suddenly able to see how other people could perceive my physical form and like see myself and imagine myself and what I looked like. now last night I figured out how people perceive my actions and read my emotions and desires through my facial expressions and body language and movements and what I’m doing, like when I look distracted they can see me looking distracted and think I’m distracted, but they can also tell when I’m excited or happy or tired just but how I hold myself and what facial expressions I’m making… If I want to be aware I still have to like consciously and manually think about it/remember it, but it’s so fucking cool and wild. Being able to perceive myself and know how other people are perceiving me, like that opens up a whole other world. It helps me understand myself and understand others like that as well, like being aware of both how they think I am communicating and what they are communicating and feeling is like… it’s wild.

It makes me wonder though, like, do other people know and understand that stuff automatically? Like they just can see and understand themselves and how others perceive them and they can understand others in the same way? And they don’t have to manually remember to turn it on? Or are we all kinda in our own head bubbles and none of us really are aware of each other outside of our minds?

[throwaway-yandere]

ERROR 410: GONE (Yandere Faceless!Kamisato Ayato/Reader)

A/n: thank you for the 5 dollar tip, "anonymous"! I asked them for what they want in exchange and they asked for a fac█le██ ayato fic... Alright then... You did ask for it...

Unreliable synopsis: Your new coworker doesn't seem to be from around here...

It was a cramped night at the bus stop. Except for the elderly, many people had their phones out since it was nearly midnight and nobody had the stamina to engage in conversation. You recently got promoted as a district manager for an international company, and oh, the work is just too exhausting to drone about. However, in this station, it didn't matter if you were an energetic student or an employee. The bus is abnormally later than their usual "lateness", and such a redundant statement elucidates just how shoddy their schedule is. Everyone was simultaneously stressed and drained and each of their war faces screamed that they would selfishly fight for the seat ride home.

All except for one man.

From the moment he arrived, you were peering at him. He had a similar appearance to the character you were "maining" in the video game you were enamored with for approximately two years. Though you seriously doubt he was in cosplay, he and that favorite of yours look eerily identical. His long-sleeved black coat and simple white turtleneck blend in with modern fashion fairly, save for his elaborate light blue hair, which was organically unkempt and not at all synthetic. His keen eyes led you to believe that he is from an Eastern lineage, most likely Japanese, but you didn't want to make any unfounded assumptions. Because it's simply impossible for someone to cosplay at this time, you were left silently marveling at the incredible coincidence.

He muttered something to himself, but you did not hear it.

“11:56 PM.”

You had a smidgen of knowledge regarding the bus schedule enough to give yourself a pep talk in the hopes that it would motivate you to give him directions. But no amount of psyching yourself up could have prepared you for when another person walked up to him. She asked the question you had been meaning to ask for the past three minutes, assuming she was a college student. He grinned at the worried girl. 

He was stunningly gorgeous when he smiled.

Wholly unfair how he exudes an aura of elegance whilst wearing normal clothes while you look like a sloppy burrito wrapped by a beige shawl this dead of night.

“Oh, no, no. I am not at all lost. I’m simply looking for someone.”

Everyone was fairly sure that person would never arrive, but he stayed roving around the room, pacing back and forth as if the person he was looking for will arrive the next minute. Whoever it was, you were starting to get angry on his behalf. Who would leave such an attractive man waiting? It was improper. 

But to be honest, you have already admitted to yourself that your life is quite dull— so you’re aware that this nonsensical drama you had over this imaginary person stemmed from boredom.

Out of the blue, he fixed his gaze on you.

The stranger’s eyes softened. The simmering panic in his expression vanished in an instant the moment he saw your face, and his mouth gaped open for a short while before he sauntered forward, ignoring the student who awkwardly shuffled back to her waiting spot.

You immediately felt small, upright, and astoundingly nervous. Not ready to be accosted by anyone at all.

“There you are…” He gave you that smile again. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Mx. (Y/n).”

You scanned the area before jabbing your finger at your chest. He nodded as if you were being ridiculous to consider that it may be someone else.

Ah, so the lookalike was waiting for you. 

You were mentally fighting yourself.

“I’m ███████ █████,” he said in a gentle tone— not at all reflecting the stressed out look he sported a moment before. “— The new product manager. I’m an incredibly recent hire, so please do not feel bad for not recognizing my face.”

That wasn’t the reason why your eyebrows were knitted, though. It’s because you DO recognize his face, but you doubt he’d take you for a reasonable person should you start pointing out his physical similarities with a fictional character.

███████ █████, huh? His full name is a bit average-sounding. Sounds like something you may have read on an early 2000s Weaboo forum on "What would your Japanese name be?" which lists down dates, birth months, and the first letter of a person's first name. However, it wasn’t entirely unbelievable— you just chalked him up as an unfortunate kid whose parents were eager to give their son the name "John Doe" when given the chance.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mister █████.”

“P-Please,” he shook his head. “Let’s drop the formalities. We shall work alongside together officially tomorrow. I would like for us to talk more casually if you would not mind.”

His vocabulary was painfully filled with constrictive pleasantries for someone who seemed to be eager to have a casually cordial relationship with you. Since a product manager and a district manager have roughly equal levels of authority in your company, his desire for friendship isn't too shocking.

Yet, you can’t help but stare… It’s still so strange how he also has a mole right underneath his lip.

He looks just like Kamisato Ayato from Genshin Impact, but not for long.

At first, you envied █████’s youthful glow and wanted it for yourself, but upon learning that he will replace Mister Blaiddyd, you mentally prayed that he wouldn’t lose his mind from stress like his predecessor. That’s how stressful being a product manager is. Give him two months and he’d probably start ruining his coiffed hair during crunch times.

“Understood,” your eyes darted back to the bus station, which remained regrettably devoid of any vehicle. You were starting to consider taking a taxi to avoid this awkward conversation but there’s not a single one in sight. “Since you’ve mentioned that you were trying to find me, might I ask why that is, exactly?”

“Ah, yes,” he instinctively adjusted his collar. His sharp and sophisticated face never averted away from you. “You see— Miss Goneril had informed me that I should approach you if I had any concerns about work.”

Ahh… Hilda…

His future plight still doesn’t change how annoying this situation is. Can’t believe you’re already assigned to helping a newbie out as soon as you got your promotion. She’s planning to milk your kindness dry this month, isn’t she? Despite being your best work friend, Hilda doesn’t have to be unkind to someone to exploit them. But you suppose you wouldn’t mind too much, given how he doesn’t look half-bad. Call it vain, call it a “coping mechanism”, but there wouldn’t be any shame on your end to teach a new attractive coworker the ropes of your job. 

You'll treat him nicely. As the good Samaritan you are, maybe you'll also ask him to give up while he's ahead for good measure.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind helping you out—”

“I'm most grateful!”

“—but it is VERY late.”

You took a quick look at your phone. 11:53 PM—and there were three messages from Miss Goneril confirming that █████ is the new hire. Since Hilda never filtered her remarks when it came to... aesthetically pleasing people, you instantly pocketed your phone. It was a grave oversight on your end that Hilda found out earlier that you weren't paying attention to her babbling earlier. You wouldn't get such a long message on how "hot" █████'s mole was if you were a better pretender. Her thirst was kind of unsettling.

Ah, whatever. You’ll just delete it later.

You held back a yawn, “where’s your stop?”

“███ ███████.”

“Ah, that’s where I drop off too.”

Additionally, it is the bus's final stop, so you would have to spend a lot more time with him. Great. You hoped he wouldn't try to strike up a conversation with some small talk.

He placed his hand on his chin. Now that he’s up close, you realized just how long his sleeves were. The silhouette nearly reminded you of Kamisato Ayato once more. █████ nodded with a half-teasing smile.

“Oh, not to worry, I know.”

Hilda must have told him right away. You secretly hoped that the main reason she paired you two up was because of your shared destination so you could applaud her wise decision-making skills, but you knew better. Once more, Hilda is attempting to match you with someone.

You cleared your throat, “well then, you better prepare yourself with some sleepless nights because the buses around here don’t come around plenty. You’d have to stand most of the time—”

He muttered something again, “three minutes left.”

“Hmm?”

“Ah, no, it’s nothing. I’ve recently moved here so please do continue explaining.”

“… Right.” You sighed, “do you live in ██████████?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’d go in opposite directions. I live in █████ so this is the only bus we share.”

“Unfortunately.”

That almost made you snort. Unfortunately? It's not at all unfortunate, though. During these hours, you rarely feel socially motivated to communicate, and you just know deep down that once he starts working, you'll find a method to board buses separately from him.

“If it’s alright for me to quickly digress— may I trouble you with something, (Y/n)?”

“Sure.”

“May I take a picture with you?” █████ asked. “I want to upload it in my Instagram Story to show my friends and family that I’m faring well. They’ve been insistent that I should make friends on my first day of work— even when based on technicalities, this doesn’t qualify as my first day.”

He must be the eldest and the breadwinner of the ████████ family. That's admirable. Working with someone like him is not a problem for you. They constantly know how to get the job done.

“I don’t mind,” you said, slightly nervous. “But can you not add any weird stuff?”

“Weird stuff?”

“Like, maybe a “my new coworker is ugly” or something like that.”

“W-What?!” █████ jolted. “I would never do such a thing! Especially towards you, my bel—”

“R-Relax, that was just a joke.” Not really. “Is it okay if I don’t take my face mask off?”

“… Of course, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Great.”

█████ scooted closer to you, placing his phone up and angling it in the direction that mostly showed your face. It’s as if he didn’t want his face to be seen, but with a handsome face like that? You’re highly doubtful that is the case. His hands were trembling. The poor man must’ve been incredibly sleep deprived and running on coffee like you.

Unwittingly, you placed your hand above his to steady his phone and you heard him gasp softly. You quickly withdrew your hand away as though you touched a hot kettle when its anything but warm.

His hands were cold, it almost didn’t feel human.

“Oh— sorry!” You shrugged, cringing. “I didn’t mean to—”

“N-No, it’s fine!” He chuckled nervously. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I have been told that I am terrible at using a Kamera.”

Why does he say “camera�� with a hard “K”? You’ve never heard anyone else pronounce it in that way. Possibly a local accent. It was tempting to ask where he’s from but perhaps that topic would be better brought up some other time. Asking that question might just make him miss his family more, and his parents might be wide-awake right now anticipating any form of reassurance that their child is doing fine.

“Then allow me to take the pic for us.”

He smiled eagerly, “I would greatly appreciate that.”

█████ handed you his phone. You set it up at the same angle he had originally intended, although this time his phone's screen displayed both your faces more clearly. Although you made an effort to contain your emotions, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by how much he resembles Kamisato Ayato. You mentally readied yourself for the possibility that you would feel his breath on your neck, but you didn't feel him breathe. That doesn’t make you feel untouched, however, since he rested his hand on your shoulder to pull you close enough for the picture.

Is he holding his breath?

“Stay still,” he commanded.

You clenched your fist, trying hard NOT to think about how close his voice is to Chris Hackney’s.

After you pressed the shutter button at least three times, you opened the pictures you’ve taken.

He really does have a beautiful smile.

“Is there something wrong with my face…?”

“Hmm? N-No,” you sputtered out. “I just thought it was a good pic.”

“I’m glad,” he laughed heartily. “I’m still getting used to this face after all.”

… Huh.

Maybe you lack sleep, but the photos remind you of those AI-generated photos on social media— the stolen ones that artists rightfully plead credit for. Maybe you just find him excessively gorgeous because he reminded you of a fictional character you were familiar with, but his appearance somehow seems otherworldly…

“11:55, one minute left.” He muttered again as he crooned above your neck, gazing at his phone.

“For what?”

█████ laughed heartily. 

“For the bus, of course!”

You raised an eyebrow. The station was incredibly empty. You genuinely can’t tell who would lie to him about that.

“Sorry, █████, I don’t know who told you that but there’s genuinely no pattern as to when the bus arrives here. That’s fake news—”

“██████████!!! ██████████!!!”

You immediately snap your neck at the sound of the bus conductor.

“H-Huh?” Your eyes widened.

█████ wore a smug smile on his face as he watched you stare at his phone in disbelief. He was correct; the time was 11:56 pm. But before he had time to gloat and act “mysterious”, you snatched his cold hand and sprinted for the seats— apologizing to the college student you bumped into along the way.

No way in hell you’re going to wait for the next bus.

“We need to go! Now!!!”

You woke up the next day feeling more tired than the previous morning.

Tuesday means that you will inevitably have to work today. You woke up before your alarm, but instead of being a responsible adult and opening up a parcel of bread with hot coffee on the side, you rolled on your bed to whisk your charged phone from the nightstand. You received notifications from several social media apps and a work email from Mister Gautier, but you'd prefer not to startle yourself by hearing one of your subordinate's absurd justifications for being absent. Instead, you launched the Instagram app that you reluctantly installed because of Hilda.

The picture you took together with █████ is still up on his Story.

The image is just as you recall it. You might even say that your opinion of his appearance significantly increased after a good night's sleep. How did you manage to converse with your new coworker last night without turning into a stammering wreck when he is THIS drop-dead gorgeous? You're confident the picture wasn't edited in any way. After all, you saw him upload it directly to his phone's social media account because you wanted to make sure he wouldn't add any odd captions. Congrats to █████ for being incredibly photogenic. He genuinely looks like an AI-generated person with how flawless he appeared. You would have told Hilda straight away that whatever she was swooning over had to be some kind of catfish if you hadn't met him—

You squinted.

…

“Wait a second.”

You looked closely at his hand which rested on top of your shoulder.

“… Are those six fingers?”

That can’t be right.

Sure, he does look like an AI-generated person in the flesh but six fingers? Absurd. It’s probably due to the horrible lighting.

You can’t zoom in on a story, so you took a screenshot but—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Shit.”

You had no time to spare. Hastily, you rolled out, tossed your phone on the bed, and staggered to the restroom. You had to go as soon as possible since you have a meeting this morning. At this rate, soldiers who lived ration by ration likely had a healthier diet than you– but your boss is the embodiment of evil.

You’ll just have to look at the image later.

“Bad morning?”

“Oh, nice to see you here, █████.”

█████ grinned, pointing at the chair beside you, “would you mind if I sit?”

You smiled politely, “I don’t own this place, you know?”

He chuckled, “fair enough.”

It's 4:07 PM. Even though one of your team members arrived later than expected, you eventually built momentum and finished the presentation on a high note. Working with Mr. Gautier is such a headache. Thankfully, district managers have to go out in the field, so before you know it, you've excused yourself to eat lunch at your preferred café. The barely-melted coffee powder you had at home wasn't going to help you get through the day like your favorite cup here. Your cup was no longer a "morning joe", but better late than never.

█████ sank on the cafe’s chair, inhaling the aroma of the rich coffee you ordered. You assumed yet again that it was Miss Goneril’s atrocious wingman skills that led him to this place. His shoulders relaxed a bit afterward as he eyed your cup.

“I do wonder what real coffee tastes like…” █████ mumbled.

You'd give it to him, but you're stressed out—probably more so than he is, given that your supervisor basically holds his hand around the office like a newborn child. The gravity of the problems you carry as a District Manager is nothing to laugh at, either. It’s just a matter of getting used to it.

“Looking already stressed on your official first day, hmm?” You teased before you sipped your cup, pretending you don’t feel his jealous eyes. “Is being a Project Manager not what you had expected?”

█████ shook his head, scoffing with a lopsided grin.

“Oh no, I used to have bigger workloads. I’m only behaving this way since I’m not used to moving this face often.”

This face, huh? What a unique yet expected phrasing. After all, he is so attractive that it wouldn't surprise you if he thought of his face as a separate entity that must be maintained. █████ must be the type of person who cares an awful lot for skin care and self-love. Good for him, good for him.

“Never worked in retail before?” You tilted your head. “Never practiced your customer service smile?”

“In a way, yes,” he chuckled. “I am more accustomed to working behind the scenes since my younger sister takes most of the spotlight in the commi— our family business.”

█████ sure laughs a lot.

“Ah, is she something of an entertainer?” You teased. Knowing a thing or two about other people’s younger siblings, you anticipated some messy anecdotes which served to amplify your opinions on how chaotic having siblings is.

“No. On the contrary, she’s incredibly reserved and poised.”

“Then I bet there’s just something charismatic about her— is she the artistic type?”

“She is. Our family’s beloved princess is quite skilled in the art of dancing and calligraphy. You ought to watch her perform someday.”

You made an effort not to grin foolishly as humiliating thoughts ran rampant inside your head. His sister sounds like Ayaka already. How surreal would it be if you opened up your phone and did your Daily Commissions in front of him—

Oh, right! Your phone— that screenshot!

You ferreted your phone out of your bag, side-eyeing him each time you failed to find it inside its mini-pockets. █████ kept smiling as you busied yourself in hopes you’d locate your phone sooner. To fill in the dead air (and to avoid getting uncomfortable knowing that a man was keeping a close eye on you), you got right onto the meat of the subject by asking questions.

“Hey— I know this is weird, but can I see your hands?”

█████ didn’t respond for a while, lost in a trance before you lightly waved at his face. His soft gaze broke as he blinked fast multiple times.

“My… hands? Alright.”

He pulled his long sleeves— which iconically trailed longer than any other coat in the company— to smoothly show off his slender fingers. █████ glanced at his wristwatch in the process. 4:09 PM. Just one minute more.

Meanwhile, you flinched. He clearly had five fingers in each hand. The normal amount. You didn’t know what exactly you were expecting.

“Hah, I’m definitely sleep deprived,” you spoke humorously. “When I checked our picture this morning I swear I saw six fingers.”

He didn’t laugh. Slowly, he closed his eyes, unamused.

“You’re wrong.” 

█████’s voice dipped low.

You never realized how warm his servile gazes were until he starts looking at you with a cold glare.

You felt your spine tremble as you took note of how he crossed his arms. What’s with this sudden shift in atmosphere? Shouldn’t he laugh at how strange your question was instead?

Why did he sound so offended?

Due to the nature of his tone, you sputtered out an excuse to bring back the light conversation you had before, “must’ve been because its dark— here hold on I took a screenshot of it.”

You opened your gallery, not bothering to scroll deep into it since it should be a recent photo. Yet, you paused, and frantically swiped up and down. You expected that screenshot to be the first image that greets you upon opening the app, but you only saw an entirely black PNG file. Why on earth did that screenshot turn void? You tried searching but you only found recent scans from the last week’s meetings and some “candid” selfies Hilda most likely snapped for herself. 

This makes no sense whatsoever! You swore you took the screenshot earlier and there was no notification that it failed to save it.

“█████” smirked.

11:56 PM M: (Y/n) waits at the bus station.

02:33 AM T: (Y/n) arrives home.

8:01 AM T: (Y/n) has a meeting.

4:10 PM T: (Y/n) looks at their phone at Cafe █████.

4:10 PM. GONE.

You’re so adorable when you have your phone close to your face with your eyebrows knitted like that… Oh, his dear beloved, you nearly got him…

It’s such a shame that he knows your phone like the back of his palm.

“Is something the matter, (Y/n)?”

Kamisato Ayato chuckled behind his sleeve.

You wouldn’t meet his eye, “I was pretty certain I took a screenshot of it this morning, this is so strange…”

Quickly, you opened Instagram to check “█████”’s Story, but the image was missing as well. Since Stories only expire after 24 hours, and it has only been a little over half that time since it was posted, it shouldn't have disappeared. Your eyes remained glued to your phone, unbeknownst to the sinister smile your coworker wore amidst your defeated state.

“Say, did you remove your Stor—”

“Here.”

“█████” slid his phone onto the table.

You picked it up. It’s the picture you two had at the station. You zoomed in on his hand.

Five fingers.

“… Yeah, it’s definitely five,” you whimpered almost inaudibly. “Here I thought I could show you something funny. Damn. I’m really sleep-deprived.”

“I know, you sleep at around 2:30 after all.”

“Yeah—”

You took a breath and then shook your head. There is no need to be skeptical about that statement; it's simple arithmetic. He reportedly knows a lot about accounting, thus he most likely estimated the length of your ride home as if it were a no-brainer. You gave him a wary smile. He's a lot more calculating than you first thought; he even picked up that you were looking for the photo you took the night before without your having to tell him.

Doing what needed to be done without being asked…

“█████” swiftly took his phone back.

“Now then, would you care to enlighten me as to what tastes good on this cafe’s menu?”

You smiled.

Yeah. You think you’ll get along with the new Project Manager just fine.

“Why, it’ll be my pleasure! First off, the frappe here is not that bad…”

[estrxlar]

The Ghost Of You

01 - You’re Familiar

This chapters songs:

Daughter Of A Cop; TV Girl

I Hope To Be Around; Men I Trust

Weird Fishes/Arpeggi; Radiohead

—

— Y. L. Perspective

My breath got louder and louder each second I ran. With my bento box hitting my hips, bag tossing around, and my skirt flying up, there was no way things could get any worse.

But luckily just around the corner, I spotted students climbing onto it, which made my feet run even faster.

Near late on my first day? Damn, Y/n, way to start your year.

   Just then, I heard the sharp hiss of the engine, sending me faster towards the vehicle than I had been pacing myself before. But still, the driver was ignorant, obviously not caring how much I needed this. It wasn't like my parents would take me anyways.

"WAIT..! PLEASE WAIT!" I started on the side of the bus, running side to side with the wheels. After a few seconds of loud disruption, it finally stopped. The break was hard, and students inside were heard making remarks of protest.

Sure, I felt bad for the people who had to get a brake check, but I on the other hand was completely out of breath and near dead. Couldn't they spare me?

"I'm, I'm so.. I'm so sorry I.." My breath is short, and loud while I breathe in and out, trying my best to try and explain my tardiness to the driver. He simply sighs, gesturing for me to seat myself already.

While I stumbled down the aisle, I received a few weird glances from fellow students. Some familiar and some new. I couldn't tell if it was because of my reputation, or because I looked like a hot mess. Either way, it was too early in the morning for one to give a damn. And so, I seat myself next to another student, finally resting from the marathon I had just run.

I sighed, rolling my head back, and placed my fingers on my temples. 'I probably look like a mess right now.' I thought, letting out a huge sigh. Once I sat my fingers back down onto my lap, I observed more of the people I was surrounded by.

Some third years I was familiar with, a few that wouldn't dare speak to me, and some that were strangers. Other second and first years I didn't know at all; throughout high school, I thought it'd be best to stay hidden and introverted, especially if I were to become popular in the music industry. Lots of young stars still went to school, and usually got dirt easily thrown onto their title and that's exactly what I would avoid this year.

Bringing me back to reality, I capture a peek coming from the boy I was seated next to. He had fluffy gray hair and seemed just as tired as me. But the bus was so dark, I couldn't completely make out his features.

"Something wrong?" I said to him.

He jumped a little, adjusting his eyes back down to his phone. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to stare. I just- I think I know you from somewhere."

"Lots of people know me, buddy—" I lifted my head, facing him. 'Hey, this guy does pretty familiar. But there's no way I'd forget a face like his. Then again, I have the memory of an 80-year-old woman.' I think to myself, examining his features in an awkward mood.

"Wow, it is you. (Y/n), it's been quite a while!" He smiled widely, reaching a hand out to me. I only froze, too confused to comprehend the situation. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you're doing well!"

"I-Im sorry?" I question, wondering why a stranger would confront me this way. But something was off— I knew him, I just couldn't remember where from. Maybe from previous classes, or from a concert?

He turns slightly, growing a smile on his pale face. "I was trying to figure out if it was you or not, but it is! It's great to see you're better. How are you?"

"Who are you?" I ask back, a bit frightened.

"Uhm, well, I sat next to you in math class during my first year. Remember? I was a little ditzy, kind of annoying, I never shut up about volleyball..?" He asks, hoping to get a hint of nostalgia. "Come on, you've gotta recognize me, right?"

"Wait, Sugawara!" My finger jumps out, pointing to his sitting figure. "I'm sorry I couldn't recognize you! It sure has been quite a while. But I definitely remember you, now! You were one of the people who talked to me during my first year.. thanks for that. Anyways, how've you been?"

"I think that's my line, L/n." Suga pats my shoulder, then places his hand onto his lap. "You've changed so much! I've gotta know how you're doing!"

"I-I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing in your perspective, but thanks anyway. I've been doing just fine." I explain before a yawn escapes my mouth. Sure, this conversation was energetic, but I certainly wasn't.

"Again, so very sorry for being so forgetful. I don't remember much from first year, especially not anything in math, but I sure do recognize you now." I say, hoping my rudeness from before wouldn't have any effect on how he viewed me. Not that I cared, of course.

Luckily, Sugawara was forgiving that day. With a wide grin, he replies, "No need to apologize. People change drastically during high school; we're no exceptions. Although, I would've enjoyed being mutuals with you throughout most of it! I wonder why I haven't seen you around until today... I believe the last time we had talked was around the last day of first year."

"Yeah, we didn't have any classes together. If we had, I'm sure we would have stirred up a discussion. You seem very kind. " I gently smile, rubbing the nape of my neck. I tend to forget any bad memories, and the beginning of high school sure was a fat one.

"What a shame, you too seem wonderful.." He comments, gazing towards me for a split second, before reverting his focus. "A-anyways, it's a bit of a surprise I saw you here. Have you always ridden the bus? I usually take it in the mornings as well."

"I've actually just moved into this neighborhood. My parents work more hours than ever, so they decided it's best if I'm closer to school so that I can get to school and back quickly." I explain, tapping the sage green bento in my lap, before setting it on my side.

Sugawara nods, understanding the circumstances. "That makes sense. I'm sure you'll enjoy it now that you've got a friend in the neighborhood. Although, a girl like you must be quite familiar, right?"

'Is that intended to be disrespectful, or am I just tripping?' I think to myself, asking him to spell out the meaning of that remark. "I'm sorry, what? A girl like me?"

"Oh, crap! I didn't mean that to sound rude— I meant because of your band! I understand you guys are the talk around school, considering you're getting pretty popular in the field."

A sigh of relief leaves my lips, preparatory to my correction. "Oh, my band. I'm not sure I necessarily make friends, more like connections and acquaintances. Only a couple of students know about the band, and usually just the down-low ones. But enough about me, what about you, hm? I assume still volleyball obsessed."

I had obviously steered in the wrong direction with our conversation, for Suga's aura quickly altered at the mention of the sport. "Eh, I'm not as excited about it as I used to be." He says, along with a hint of dissatisfaction in his raspy voice.

"No way. What happened to cheerful Sugawara who asked me, the lamest, to join the girls' team?" I ask, hoping a bit of that childish personality was still inside the older version of Suga. The one which was taller, more masculine, more of a man than before.

"Honestly, can't tell you. 'Teams has been a mess ever since I've joined." He leans back in his seat, stretching his arms out, before placing them around his neck from behind. "We're hanging on my a very thin thread."

"Dang, that really sucks. You never know, things can always turn out better." I say, doing as he did, and resting against the leather seats.

"Yeah, of course. I guess it's pretty hard to keep going after so many fails, haha." A sad chuckle leaves his mouth, as he sighs.

"Anyway, nice talking. I'm outta take a quick power nap; I barely got sleep last night. Mind waking me up when we get to school?"

"Yeah, of course," Sugawara replies. With that, I'm left with laying music in my ears like always, and nodded off to slumber.

—

"Hey, sleepyhead. We're at school," I hear someone say, feeling a tap of a cold finger on my nose. Almost immediately, I shoot up from my position, standing directly above Sugawara while students leave the bus with their bags, having loud discussions of excitement. Was there anything more embarrassing than falling asleep on someone who ghosted you as a friend?

"Dear God, I'm terribly sorry." I panic, brushing down my blue skirt. "That happens on rides, it was a mistake."

"Oh, it's no big deal! Don't worry—" Suga chuckles, standing up from sitting. But before I could let him talk anymore, I started making my way towards the exit of the bus.

"Uhm, I've gotta go! Great talking, though. I'll catch you later, have a good day," I mumble, before frantically leaving the vehicle. 'What a morning.'

— K. S. Perspective

Before I could grant Y/n a polite goodbye, she'd disappeared in just a few seconds. But even so, the measly to,e I'd discussed with her was quite enjoyable. I couldn't believe how much she'd changed.

Long ago, the beginning of high school, Y/n was the type of girl you could barely see, as if she were invisible. I think the only reason I ever even noticed her was because we were seated next to each other in math class, and she immediately caught my attention. But thank goodness I had at least tried making an effort to talk to her, or else we wouldn't have had our conversation this morning. But it wasn't her fault she was so gloomy; supposedly she had lost someone close to her the year before.

Although our talk was brief, it still meant a lot to me. Especially since I was informed that she was finally happy. Looking down at the seat she used, there was a small box with a handle at the top, and a few anime stickers covering it.

'Is this what was making that loud tapping noise on the way here?' I asked myself, examining the box more. Small initials marked 'Y.L.' We're at the bottom, informing me it was Y/n's. At first, I considered handing it to our bus driver, but for the few years I've known him I learned he doesn't return lost things. And so, I leave the bus with it in my hands, ready to start my morning.

"Suga!" I hear a familiar voice call out to me. Looking up, I see my friend, Daichi, and another fellow behind him, Tanaka. The two of them jog towards me, with their scarfs unfolding in the wind. Both I had met in volleyball, and they've been my buddies ever since.

"Hey, Sugawara!" Tanaka exclaims, roughly slapping my back. The bento tosses in my hands, thankfully not spilling onto the floor. Unfortunately, he notices the box and snatches it right out of my hold. "Wow, feeling a bit girly, are we?"

I laugh in response, quickly taking it back. "It's not mine, it belongs to the person who sat next to me today. Hopefully, if I see her again I can give return it."

"Hopefully?" Daichi teases, as we all begin our walk towards the school doors. "Do you know her name?"

"Yeah, her name's Y/n. Know her?"

He lights up at the mention of their name, replying "Oh, I know her! That girl you never shut up about I in first year, correct?"

"Ha, yeah."

Tanaka doesn't understand, digging deeper into the situation. "What?! I've never known good ole' Suga to genuinely have feelings for a girl, unless it was some fling."

"I don't! I used to. There's a difference." I say, as we enter the building.

"If she rides your bus, then why don't you just give it to the driver? She'll probably go looking for it later at the end of the day. That is unless you wanna see her again.." Daichi teases me.

"You see, I would. But the bus driver is sort of a thief, and this girl has had a rough morning as it is. I just wanna be nice." I explain to him. Though a part of me did want to see her again and hope that we could talk longer than we did before.

"Sure you do," Tanaka says, patting our backs. "Listen, this is my stop. I'll catch you guys at practice?"

"Sure thing, bye." We say our farewells, and make our way towards the third-year halls. "What about you, Daichi? Got anything exciting happening this hour?"

"If stressing about volleyball counts, then yes! Most definitely.." He says, clearing his throat. "Watch, like, two people show up."

"Actually, Kiyoko informed us in the group chat that we've got at least four! That's better than last year, right?" I try my best to cheer him up, but it only made him even more nervous. I couldn't blame him. Too much was even more of a burden, but too little was a disappointment and would leave us exactly where we left off.

"It's okay, Suga. I have a lot of faith in our team. I know it's been rough lately, but as long as we try our best, we'll work this out." Daichi smiles, turning towards a separate hallway than mine. "I'm off to homeroom. See you later!"

"Yeah, see ya!" I'm left by myself, giving me more time to focus on what should happen today. - 1st, I have to go through each class and say hi to a couple of familiars, and hopefully not see anyone I've had a conflict with.

- 2nd, I had to give Y/ns bento back to them, but that could only happen if we happened to have a class with each other before, or if we had the same lunch.

- 3rd, volleyball tryouts were this afternoon. I had to make sure and represent myself as a role model, and make it clear I was vice-captain. I wanted nothing more than for the new players to feel safe.

But internally, I knew none of those plans would work out. Especially if I wasn't focused on them. Currently, all I could think about was Y/n, and how refreshing it felt to be around her again. When I was first around her was at the same time when things in my life started to fall apart, and my little crush on her made me feel better about it all. I guess you could say she was my comfort corner, even if she talked to me only once or twice during the week. And sometimes on her bad days, I would be able to at least get a laugh out of her, even if it meant making a complete fool out of myself.

All I wanted was for her not to harm herself or feel lonely, which took a quick turn towards me once the year had ended. Not only had my thing for her end, but my family soon fell apart after my mother had passed away. Of course, I still had my responsibilities like volleyball club and helping my younger sister and my father get through it. But it seemed that everyone would do their own thing, so I did the same. And for a while, I was lonely and didn't cope with the loss very well. Just like Y/n, I distanced myself.

This went on throughout my entire second year of high school, while she on the other hand started to get her life together. She started her band, made and covered a couple of songs, and finally healed from her hard year. Honestly, I didn't even really believe that she was in such a good state, but I was proven wrong today. Ultimately, she truly inspired me to pick myself up and start fresh. And now that she popped up so suddenly, I was back to square one.

'It's been a while, Y/n'

—

HEYYY SHAWTYYYS.

Give me notes.

SO, I've finally rewritten the first chapter of my fanfiction!! It took a while, but I did it. If you didn't know, I started this story about eight months ago, and I had no writing experience. Now that I'm reaching the climax of this story, I decided I should edit the chapter, especially since they sucked ass! Nothing much was changed, just far more detailing and extra feelings.

Overall, thanks so much for reading the first chapter. Please vote if you enjoyed it!! It helps others know that it's worth reading. And if not, no worries. Thanks anyways. I love you all so much!

- your friendly Suga simp

[sweetbitterpdf]

8 and 14 for cliche prompts ❤️

( 50 cliché tropes and prompts !!! )

8. Hands brushing unexpectedly;

& 14. We’re roommates but we’re falling for each other

ahhh these ones are so soft!! this was a lovely prompt to write. also i ended up subconsciously basing the confession off of the webcomic heartstopper by alice oseman, which i re-read and re-fell in love with a couple days ago. i would recommend it with the highest praise, it’s so soft and it’s still ongoing!!

hope you enjoy, anon! ✨

—

Lucas tries to be sympathetic when Eliott breaks up with his girlfriend, but it’s difficult.

It’s difficult because he never really liked her, anyway. She’s loud and blunt wherever Eliott is soft and sweet. She demands all of Eliott’s attention whenever she’s around— as if there’s no one else in his life worth interacting with. Plus— from what Lucas has heard from Eliott— she’s manipulative with a capital M.

“She got in a mood the other day.”

“In a mood?”

“She got it in her head that I was cheating on her and demanded to go through my phone.”

“What the fuck, and you let her?”

“It’s easier than fighting it.”

That seems to be Eliott’s philosophy when it comes to Lucille— and to life, really. Some of the things he’s told Lucas have made him angry out of sheer sympathy, and he can’t help but think why would you settle, why would you settle when you’re you? You deserve the world.

But then, a couple of weeks ago, Eliott came back to their dorm room and flopped down on his bed, across the small room from Lucas.

And he was grinning like a maniac.

“She broke up with me.” No greeting, no hello, how was class today, none of their usual daily small talk.

“She broke up with me,” he says again, and then— “thank god.”

“You’re happy about it?” Lucas asks, and Eliott’s smile is contagious, it always is.

“Yes,” Eliott says, sitting up to look at Lucas. He’s never seen Eliott smile like this before, and he tries his best to keep his cheeks from flushing. “I’ve wanted to break up with her for weeks now, but I didn’t know how. And I didn’t have to do anything, because she did it first.” Eliott shakes his head, in something like disbelief. “Fuck, what a weight off my shoulders.”

“What was her reasoning?” Lucas asks, because he’s curious, and nosy, and kind of wants to know everything about Eliott.

“She said I wasn’t ‘motivated enough’ in the relationship.” Eliott reaches up his hands to make air quotes. “I wasn’t ‘pulling my weight’ or whatever. I said that I’m sorry she felt that way, but that I understand, and I hope she finds someone who pulls their weight.”

“Ah,” Lucas says, to affirm that he’s paying attention.

“But I had to keep from grinning the whole time. God, it’s just… It’s finally over.”

“Well, I’m happy you’re happy.” Lucas looks at Eliott, and Eliott looks at Lucas. Lucas’ mind wanders, as it always does when he thinks of Eliott— and wonders if he’s seeing things, or if there’s something in Eliott’s gaze that wasn’t there before.

“Fuck, I haven’t been single in years.” Eliott’s face falls into his hands, but Lucas can still see his grin. Then he shoots up, looking Lucas in the eye.

“Can we celebrate?” Eliott asks with the excitement of a little kid.

Lucas is in no position to deny him celebration— or anything, really.

—

When Eliott proposed going out to a club as his chosen form of celebration, Lucas was hesitant. He’s been clubbing before and it was never really for him, far too many sweaty bodies in far too close quarters for his liking.

But here, in a different club, with Eliott by his side, Lucas isn’t having the worst time, admittedly.

The song playing is Norwegian, Eliott insists, and Lucas is just a little too drunk to question how he knows such a thing. Everything feels a bit loose, pleasantly fuzzy around the edges, and Lucas dances around without worrying what other people think of him.

Well, except for maybe Eliott.

Lucas is kind of hyperaware of where Eliott is, at all times. He figured what Eliott meant when he asked Lucas to come with him was for them to come together and Lucas would fuck off when he found someone worth taking home, or he would play wingman. 

But Eliott hasn’t gone anywhere.

They arrived together, they drank together, and now they’re dancing together. They’re orbiting around each other, and Lucas wants so badly to give in to the pull that he feels. But he stays strong, and he stays at a safe distance.

Time ticks along, and it’s after midnight when they finally leave. Lucas is still a tad tipsy, and Eliott seems to be slightly further gone, still. His pace is a bit slow, ever so slightly wobbly, and he’s still bubblier and gigglier than he usually is.

They’re chatting idly, and as they walk to the short route back to campus, Eliott’s hand brushes against Lucas’, and he has to keep a gasp from escaping him, has to keep from jerking his hand away, has to act natural, Lallemant. 

It happens a couple of times again after that, and Lucas keeps telling himself not to freak out, that it’s an accident, a chant that repeats over and over in his head.

—

It’s the day before their study break ends, and Lucas’ face breaks out into a smile when he opens the door, smiling over at Eliott as he sits on his bed.

“Hey,” he says, but all of a sudden Eliott’s bounding over and wrapping Lucas into a hug, and he’s pretty sure that he’s about to explode.

“Hey!” Eliott’s voice is far too energetic for so early in the morning. Lucas had taken the early bus to save money, and it’s barely 9am as he stands in Eliott’s embrace.

Though he thinks he could become a morning person, if he got a greeting like this every day. 

“I missed you.” Eliott says, simple, his voice clear and soft. Lucas stands there as Eliott pulls away from him, a bit shocked.

“Me too,” he says quietly, after a pause that feels far too long. As Eliott turns away, Lucas swear he can see the beginnings of a blush on Eliott’s face.

—

The past few days have felt like he and Eliott have been inching toward… something. Something that Lucas has never let himself thin about before now. But now he’s thinking, and thinking, and he can’t stop. The floodgates have been opened, and he feels like he’ll drown if he doesn’t ask, if he doesn’t figure out where Eliott stands.

“Eliott,” Lucas asks, in the quiet, dimly lit room. They’re sat together on the floor, their thighs touching, and it makes Lucas feel brave, somehow. “Do you… like anyone, right now?” He’s looking at Eliott, and Eliott’s looking at him, a wordless request, an is there anything under the surface of that question? and Lucas wordlessly saying yes, yes.

“I think so.” Eliott says, with his trademark noncommittal shrug. Lucas’ stomach lurches in an intoxicatingly pleasant way.

“What’s she like?” Lucas asks, because he doesn’t want to assume. But also, a small part of his brain keeps repeating but maybe—? What if—?

“She’s…” Eliott’s eyebrows furrow, thinking, and then— “They’re not necessarily a girl.” 

“Oh.” Lucas’ heart is thudding against his chest now, and if he didn’t know better he would ask Eliott if he could hear it, if he were a little bolder he would ask Eliott if he knew that he was the cause. “So you would you kiss a boy?”

“Yes.” Eliott is less hesitant this time, and now they’re looking at each other, staring at each other. Lucas knows he could leave it at that, say a quick goodnight and throw himself into his bed across the room. But Eliott is too beautiful in the low light, and if he doesn’t know, if he doesn’t get a yes or a no right now, he thinks he’ll wonder for the rest of his life.

So he swallows, takes a breath, leans in ever so slightly.

And then—

“Would you kiss me?”

And it’s so quiet in the room, Eliott must be able to hear his heartbeat, he thinks. Eliott isn’t moving away, not at all, and Lucas’ mind is short-circuiting, is begging, a mantra of please, please, please—

And then Eliott, nods, barely there. But Lucas notices.

And then—

“Yes.” Eliott whispers, and Lucas can feel the word fan out over his bottom lip in the moment before Eliott closes the gap between them.

[preface2adreamplay]

Under Your Spell (Part 10) - Ashes On My Shoes

Summary: A Jared Padalecki/OFC fiction.

Stef is a musician, recently gone solo. Happy with her life as a forever single person until Jared makes it his mission to get close to her. (For the purpose of this fiction, I have liberated some lyrics from various artists and their videos. This is fiction, with real people mentioned.)

Chapter warnings: Flirting, swearing. 

Chapter WC: 2,458

The night of the Texas show was here. Stef was always nervous for every gig, why wouldn’t she be? There were a hundred and one ways that things could go sideways. Most of them had already happened during her career. But Jared would be at this show. He had text her to say he was incoming, ’With the boys.’ She assumed Jensen would be joining him. 

The bus was parked up next to the venue, the first of bands that were playing with them had started their set. Stef was already dressed for the stage, usually she kept it simple enough but tonight she made a special effort to be a little more flamboyant. Claire had helped her put together this flowing ensemble. A dress with a plunging neckline that just about reached to her navel, long sleeves and a train of black and silver material that followed her around as she walked. It was a flirty, Morticia Addams inspired dress with a slit up the front that came up to her knees. When she moved it dragged behind her, showing off her long legs. 

The legs that Jared had kissed and ran his fingers up and down teasingly the last time they were together. He said he loved her legs. She loved them when they were wrapped around his waist.

‘Focus, Stef.’ she scolded herself in the hand held mirror she used to put on her make up. 

Just then her tour manager pulled open the door, shouting ‘you decent?’

‘Yeah, come on in,’ Stef had one more coat of mascara to do and she was done.

‘Wow, you look great. You going on a date afterwards?’ Jeff was cool, he was a friend from years back, from the beginning. Always a good guy to have with you on tour. You needed a snack at 3am, he got it. You needed a replacement guitar string before you ran on stage, he had it ready. 

‘Maybe.’

Jeff carried on with his checklist, talking to himself more than to her.

‘Your stuff is on stage, the band are hanging in the waiting room. You staying on the bus?’ 

‘Nah, I’m going to go in now.’

‘Just so you know there are some fans at the gate, waiting for you.’

There were always a few people hanging around the venue before her shows. The first time she got off a bus with people shouting her name was definitely one of the highlights of the business for her. They were the reason why she still did shows. Her fans were always hungry for more music.

Recognising a few of the faces in the crowd, Stef hung with them for a few minutes.

They were complimentary about her ‘new style,’ asking if it was for the new album.

She agreed, butterflies nesting in her stomach again at the thought that she had made this effort just for Jared. What had become of her?

Smiling and doing her best poses with the fans, she waved them goodbye. Promising to give them a shoutout from the stage.

The venue was packed. Though she put that down to the most excellent support acts that were with her. Slipping into the backstage area through the rear entrance, she noticed her band mates were rowdy. 

‘What is it about the Texas crowds that get you guys so wound up?’ She laughed, watching the empty mini bottles of Jager tumble down from their ludicrous game of dominoes. 

‘What is it about Texas that’s got you looking like that?’ Evan queried, the boys wolf whistled. 

‘Settle down.’ She scolded. Forever the mother. These guys had been around nearly as long as Jeff. She found them all adorable and annoying, referring to them as her ‘hairy ass babies.’

Curing her nerves with two glasses of whiskey, she saw the second support act coming backstage, sweaty and loud. 

They’d be up next. 

Jeff appeared again, ‘Hey Stef, c’mere.’ 

‘Your friends just arrived,’ he said in a hushed tone, nodding his head towards Jared and Jensen. Misha stepped out from behind the two taller men and waved energetically. ‘Hey!’ he called across the corridor at her.

Stef ushered them into the room. Giving Jensen and Jared a hug and a kiss on both cheeks. Jared was smiling from ear to ear, but said nothing.

‘Hey hot momma,’ Jensen tried to keep a straight face, glancing at Jared. ‘Can’t wait for the show. We brought this idiot, he loves your music too.’

‘I’m a new fan.’ Misha pulled her into a tight hug. ‘Not as big a fan as Jared, but I still love your stuff.’ 

Misha seemed to be a guy you could instantly like. Stef patted him on the back, letting him know that the hug was done. 

’Sorry, I’m excited to meet you. Jared talks about you non stop.’

‘Do I?’ Jared was looking at Stef, taking her in, his eyes pausing on all the right places of the dress. 

‘You do, actually.’ Jensen clapped his friend on the back. ‘Come on, let’s get ready for this show then.’ He gave Misha a playful push out the door and threw Jared a look that said ‘hurry up.’

When they had disappeared, Jeff pointing the way up to the box Stef had booked for them, Jared was still standing over her. ‘You look beautiful.’

She could feel herself getting a little bashful. ‘Thank you,’ she replied, deciding it was best to just say it rather than pass it off as ‘this old thing?’

‘Good luck, I can’t wait to see you play.’ He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the lips. That surprised her, she didn’t think he wanted to advertise that they were somewhat ‘together.’ 

‘I can’t wait to play for you.’ Stef smiled, giving his chin a little tug. 

‘You got about five minutes,’ Jeff came back and took Jared by the arm, leading him out of the door. 

With the lights glaring into her face, she could never see the crowd. That often helped with her nerves. Being up there made her feel so vulnerable, that was why she loved doing it so much. It was like therapy, pouring her heart out into the songs and letting them take over. The crowd were waiting impatiently when the lights went down. It was her cue to walk on stage. The guys were at their instruments, playing the intro to the new single. Stef reached the mic as the beat kicked in, her words flowing easily. Everything sounded right. In the moment, she forgot everyone around her. Forgot about Jared sitting forward in his seat taking in the show, watching her move with the music, doubled over when the high notes required it. 

There was little time to chat between songs, Stef preferred it that way. It was easier to just get on with it. 

She hated the ‘hey there..*insert city* you’re the best.’

Halfway through the set, she thanked the crowd for coming out, introduced the band and pulled out her acoustic guitar. 

‘This isn’t usual for me, I like to kick it full steam ahead for you guys. But, someone recently sang this song to me and it revived some old feelings. Despair and lost love. Sounds good, right?’ The crowd whooped and cheered.

‘Ok, cool.’ Stef started right into the song, keeping the pace that Jared had set when he sang it to her on the floor of Jensen’s cabin the night they first made love. 

Burning soft skin of two

Trying hard to let go of you

Hoping it will do

Pulled right out from underneath you

She heard the crowd singing it along with her, her breath caught in her throat when she finished the song, pushing her guitar aside and holding up her hands in thanks to the fans. 

‘You know what, I don’t usually say this, but y’all ARE the fuckin’ best.’ 

Backstage, everyone was in high spirits. The whiskey was flowing and Stef was so buzzed. Misha was taking pictures of the band, wanting her to strike some ridiculous poses with Jensen and Jared.

Several of the shots made it on to instagram. Jared and ‘the boys,’ each posted a picture with Stef, exclaiming about how great the show had been and how excited they were to be invited backstage.

Stef even posted one with Misha, Jensen and Jared holding her up as she lay across them. There were so many comments on it, she just didn’t have the energy to read them.

Back on the bus, the guys were continuing their little party in the ‘living area’ behind the driver. Jared had come back with Stef to have a chat before they had to go.

Checking that no one was watching, Stef pulled him halfway into her tiny bunk, there was no way the both of them would fit in there but they managed to squeeze in, legs dangling out from behind the curtain. Giggling like teenagers, they made out for a while. Jared punctuating each kiss with how much he enjoyed the show. Eventually, after several phone calls from an increasingly pissed Jensen, Jared took his leave. Kissing her wrist to her shoulder and then giving her several kisses that made her head spin, he left. 

‘Stefanie’s got a boyfriend!’ One of the guys stuck his head out through the sliding door of the living area, he was so drunk he could barely stand. 

‘Shut the fuck up,’ Stef threw a pair of his balled up socks at him. ‘And clean up after your-damn-selves.’ 

The next day they were playing a much smaller venue, but the crowds were still coming out, thankfully.

Stef had taken a moment to look at her tagged posts on social media. There were a few great shots taken the night before, she was incredibly grateful her tits didn’t pop out of her dress. 

‘Wow, you know J2?’ ‘OMG Jensen’ ‘OMG Jared’. Was how most of the comments were going. Several were suggesting she was fucking one of them, or all three.

‘She sucks, her music sucks and she’s ugly.’ Charming. Stef often deleted the nasty ones, coz who wants to see them, right? 

There were more followers on all platforms, that was nice. More people to hear the music, she supposed.

Her heart skipped a beat on seeing a post on insta from Jared. It was a picture of them striking a ridiculous pose, his arm around her waist. They were doing their best blue steel. The second was a shot of him, Jensen and Misha heads together at the show and the third was Stef on stage, she couldn’t recall what part of the night it was. 

‘If anyone gets a chance to see this girl live, go see her. You rocked us last night, Stef. So proud of you.’ Several love hearts.

Misha commented, ‘get your hands off my girl, Jared.’

Jared: ‘And how long do you know her that you think you can lay claim?’

Jensen posted several laughing emojis, ‘as MJ said boys, ‘the girl is mine.’

Stef liked each of the comments. Adding her own ‘I’d take all three of you, no problem.’ To which Jared added a sad face and a broken heart. 

Her phone began vibrating, the long stream of comments disappearing. Oscar’s name was flashing on screen.

‘Hello, Oscar.’ Her voice was a little husky from the night before.

‘There she is. I see your show was well received last night.’

‘Oh?’ She feigned ignorance. 

‘There is a write up about it already, some fans of Supernatural are getting quite excited about it. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone from the show would you?’

‘Maybe.’

She heard Oscar sighing down the phone where there would usually be laughter.

‘You better not be messing around with a married man, Effie.’

‘Why would that be any of your fucking business, Oscar?’

‘I thought as much, you won’t deny it either. I noticed something about you when you came down for Dar’s party.’

‘You noticed what?’

‘Well, don’t get me wrong you are always lovely but you were simply glowing when you arrived at the airport.’

‘Oh shut up, you’re so full of crap.’

‘Am I?’

She supposed he wasn’t. But again, she didn’t want to tell him he was right. 

‘Yeah, your silence speaks volumes.’

‘I’m a big girl, Oscar. I look out for myself. Always have.’

The last two words stung him and she knew it. He shifted in his chair, she heard him clear his throat the way he always did, before he wanted to launch into a speech about how she was getting herself into trouble.

’Before you start, because I know what you’re going to say!’ She warned, hearing him start to tell her to watch herself.

‘I appreciate your concern, but I’m not getting myself into anything I haven’t thought about for many sleepless nights. We have...an agreement.’

Oscar scoffed, ‘so you’re fucking a married man. That’s fine is it?’

‘It is for us, Oscar. Please don’t judge me.’

‘I can’t not judge you. What’s with you lately? You’re not really acting like yourself.’

‘Hey, you told me I needed to loosen up a bit.’

‘Loosening up a little means go out with your friends more and have some fun. Not start a relationship with a married guy. A famous married one at that. Jesus, Stef, you have to be more careful.’

‘Oscar, I appreciate the concern.’

‘That’s it? No fighting back?’

‘I don’t want to fight, not with you. I can’t fight with you anymore.’

Oscar was sighing again. ‘Promise me, you’ll be sensible. I can’t stand seeing you broken hearted.’

‘Oh don’t start that shit again, please.’ Stef buried her face in the crook of her arm, laying across her bunk. 

‘I mean it, Stefanie. Don’t do that to yourself, you’re worth more than that. You’re more than a mistress.’

‘I know that. And as I said, it works for both of us right now.’

‘Yeah, yeah sure. You frustrate me so much, you know that?’

‘I do. It’s why you love me though.’ 

Perhaps she had chosen the wrong words, his voice which had been pleading was now just sad.

‘Fuck sakes. I’m shaking my head right now, but you can’t see me.’

Stef bit her nails, ‘yeah but I can imagine it, vividly. You still got that nice head of hair?’

‘Yep, I’m shaving it off as soon as this movie is done.’

‘I hate your bald head.’ Stef complained.

‘I am doing it just to annoy you, and I will be sending pictures.’

‘Ugh, delete me from your life please.’

‘Never,’ he smiled a little, ‘I gotta go.’

‘Later Oscar.’

‘Goodbye, love.’

CHAPTER 11

[nyctolovian]

Trust

Merry christmas, Sincere! So hi im ur secret santa hahahaha! I know it’s kind of weird to have a sickfic for christmas but I rly tried to write something christmassy and ummmm yeh as u can see it didnt work out hahaha! Hope u still enjoy it with its fluff!! 

Summary: Trucy is running a fever while Mr Wright's at a trial so Apollo takes on the nursing duty. But health issues aren't the only issues Apollo will help with today.

AO3 Link

“Trucy has a fever?”

Upon hearing that, Apollo and Athena turned away from the client to look at their boss concernedly.

“Mm. ... Yes. … Oh... But I’m in the middle of a trial...” Mr Wright glanced at the clock. They only had five more minutes before the trial began again.

Eyes wide with worry, the client stared at him, wordlessly begging him not to leave. At that, Mr Wright flashed her a smile that assured her that he will be staying.

“I’ll ask someone to head over to fetch Trucy on my behalf,” Mr Wright spoke into his phone. “I’ll text you that person’s number. ... Yes. Thanks.” He pressed the “End Call” button before pulling his two protégés aside. “Well, you guys heard it. Trucy’s school called and she’s running a fever. And I can’t exactly leave halfway. Could one of you help me out?” he said with a sheepish grin. “I’d usually ask Edgeworth but he’s in Germany now...”

“I’ll go,” Apollo said, raising a hand. “Our client seems to need some help managing her fear, doesn’t she?”

“She does,” Athena affirmed. “It’s making her mess up a lot of her statements.”

“Then, it’s decided. I’ll go.”

Mr Wright wrote down something on a notepad and tore the page out. “This is the school’s address.” He handed Apollo the note and patted his shoulder. “Thanks for your help, Apollo. I’m counting on you to take care of her till the trial is over. I trust you’ll be fine though.”

The bailiff called the defense back to the courtroom and the defendant jolted in fear. Calmly, Mr Wright turned to her and comforted her. Athena held the defendant’s hand and squeezed it comfortingly.

Apollo glanced back as the three of them headed back into the courtroom before heading out. He took a look at the note Mr Wright had passed to him. The school wasn’t far from here. He quickly reached there by bus and got a visitor’s pass from the security guard before heading to the reception area.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up Trucy. Trucy Wright?” he told the receptionist.

“Ah, she is in the sickbay. I’ll wake her up,” the receptionist said.

Apollo pursed his lips. Was Trucy asleep? This fever seemed to be doing a number on the usually energetic magician. And he was right. As Trucy walked out of the sickbay, she looked incredibly exhausted, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Oh! Polly?” Her hand flew to her mouth. “You’re here?”

“Uh, yeah. Your dad’s in the middle of the trial so I’m here instead,” Apollo explained. He glanced over her quickly before gently tugging at her bag. “I’ll carry that for you. You look terrible.” For a moment, Trucy stubbornly tightened her grip around the strap. But Apollo was just as stubborn and she was feeling tired after all so she let go and sat at one of the benches.

The receptionist took out a form and told Apollo to fill it up so Trucy could sign out. He nodded and quickly filled it up. When he gave it back to the receptionist, her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re her coworker?”

“Um... Yes?” Well, technically I’m her employee but that’d be harder to explain. Apollo thought, cringing internally.

The receptionist laughed good-naturedly. “You two look so alike. I almost thought you were her brother! So you are a magician as well?”

“No, I’m not her brother,” he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “And I’m not a magician either. I’m a defense attorney. See?” He lifted his lapel.

“Polly, are you flashing your badge again?” Trucy asked from behind him.

“... No.”

The receptionist giggled as she filed the form away. “You two really get along well. Thank you for picking her up.” She craned her neck to look at the sick girl. “Rest well, Trucy!”

Seeing how tired Trucy was, Apollo got an Uber to take them back to the Wright Anything Agency.

As soon as they got in, Trucy started to nod off. However, when her head began to droop, she would suddenly straighten up again and the cycle would repeat.

“Just close your eyes,” Apollo said, leaning towards her. “You’re tired, right?”

“Ey, lass, y’ sick?” the Uber driver boomed, peered behind.

“Please look in front while driving,” Apollo reminded.

“Yep,” Trucy replied. “Fever.”

The driver nodded and turned his body slightly to look at her. “Thought so. Take forty winks, lil’ lady.” (“Oh god! Please look where you’re driving! Car! Car!”) Yer brother there can wake y’ up when we reach.”

“He’s not my brother,” Trucy said with a slight pout. “He’s just Polly.”

“Ey! Sorry ‘bout that! Y’ two got the same face!” the driver guffawed so loudly the car seemed to be shaking. Apollo clung to the roof handle for his dear life.

“Why do so many people say that?” Trucy mused aloud. “My friends in school say that too. Remember that time when I forgot my umbrella, Polly?”

Gulping, Apollo nodded. He won’t be remembering that any longer if the driver kept turning around to talk to them. “Alright, nice. Can you please nap now? No talking while napping,” Apollo said, patting her head. At least then Trucy won’t goad the driver into talking again.

“Good night,” Trucy muttered absently as she curled up in her bed.

“Good night,” Apollo replied even though he knew that was a weird thing to say at 10am. As he sat at the living room, he texted Mr Wright.

You: Trucy’s home now. She’s running a fever of 38.5 degrees. [10:34 AM]

Tentatively, he peered into Trucy’s room. Apollo felt pretty useless as he watched her tossing and turning uncomfortably. Never had he been needed to take care of someone else with a fever. And usually when he was sick, he’d just sleep it off.

Surely, he shouldn’t just be telling Trucy to sleep and leaving it at that. He frowned in thought for a while and paced around. Then, he picked up his phone again.

You: im taking care of trucy cos shes got a fever. 38.5 but wth do ppl usually do for fevers??? [10:39 AM]

The reply was almost instantaneous.

spaceman: Oof [10:39 AM]

spaceman: Give her water [10:40 AM]

spaceman: And paracetamol or watever [10:40 AM]

spaceman: Put a wet towel on her forehead [10:40 AM]

You: im not sure where mr wright keeps his medication stuff though. i asked trucy and she doesnt know either [10:40 AM]

You: shld i ask mr wright??? [10:40 AM]

spaceman: Yeah. Do that. [10:41 AM]

You: not sure when he can reply. hes at a trial now [10:41 AM]

spaceman: Ohhhhhhh [10:41 AM]

spaceman: No wonder ure the one taking care of her [10:41 AM]

spaceman: Good luck bro!! Dont die!!! [10:41 AM]

You: ok tks i wont [10:41 AM]

spaceman: Btw for the towel, get a basin so u dun need to run abt [10:41 AM]

You: k [10:42 AM]

After sending a message asking Mr Wright where he kept his medications, Apollo placed a cup and a jar of water on Trucy’s bedside table. With a bit of nudging, she finally sat upright to down an entire glass of water before sinking back into her bed with a flop. Then, he followed what Clay said and got a basin of water and a towel. Apollo soaked the towel and wrung it before placing it on Trucy’s forehead.

Apollo noticed the minute relaxation of her facial muscles so he supposed he was doing this right at least. Thank god for Clay. What would he ever do without him?

Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, Apollo picked it up again.

spaceman: AND SOUP OR PORRIDGE [10:53 AM]

spaceman: FOR LUNCH [10:53 AM]

spaceman: Im kinda assuming mr wright wont be back before lunch cos ure usually MIA for almost an entire day when uve got a trial [10:54 AM]

You: good idea [10:54 AM]

spaceman: Careful not to drop the entire bottle of pepper in the pot again. Itll kill the poor girl. Her dads a lawyer, apollo. Dont risk it ;-;[10:54 AM]

You: THAT WAS ONE TIME [10:55 AM]

spaceman: Tell that to my poor tongue :( [10:55 AM]

You: I GET IT STOP [10:55 AM]

spaceman: RIP Clay Terran’s tongue. 2004-2024 Death by pepper poisoning. [10:55 AM]

You: ITS TIME TO S T O P [10:55 AM]

spaceman: Dont. Stop me nOOOOWWW [10:55 AM]

You: why r u quoting queen in 2027 [10:56 AM]

spaceman: Why r YOU quoting filthy frank in 2027 [10:56 AM]

You: why r we even friends [10:56 AM]

spaceman: What do u mean?? This is precisely why we r friends [10:56 AM]

spaceman: IVE BEEN CAUGHT MY PHONE NOOOOOOOO [10:56 AM]

You: wow. a murder right before my eyes. ngl i feel nothing for ur death. [10:57 AM]

spaceman: Aura speaking, apollo, stop texting clay while hes at work. [10:57 AM]

You: Noted. Sorry. [10:57 AM]

“Trucy, please get back in bed,” Apollo said. “You’re still sick.”

“My fever’s gone, isn’t it?” Trucy said, puffing her cheek, as she continued to carry things out of the fridge to be defrosted.

“Well, yeah,” Apollo said. “But you’re not completely well yet. The sick should stay in bed to rest.”

“Do you even follow your own advice?” Trucy said, arms akimbo.

“Yes?” Apollo tried, rubbing his bracelet.

The piercing look Trucy gave him made him shrink back. Lying was futile. She could perceive lies too after all. Was this what it felt like at the other end of courtroom scrutiny?

“Okay, fine. I don’t,” he admitted. “But you’re a kid! A growing kid! I’ll do the cooking, alright?”

“The guest shouldn’t be doing the cooking.”

“I’m not guest, Trucy! I’m supposed to take care of you!”

“Look, Dad’s coming back for lunch. I can’t leave him hungry,” she said.

Apollo drooped with a sigh. “I’m sure what he means is that he’s coming back to settle lunch for you. Look, I could even ask him right now!

“I highly doubt he can cook,” Trucy stated, pouting.

“Mr Wright’s an adult. I’m sure he can settle his own meals. But if you really think that, I can just do the cooking. Your germs are going to get in the food anyway.”

“I can wear a mask,” Trucy rebutted.

Apollo waved his arms wildly before dropping them in exhaustion. “Rest. Please? Trucy?”

Trucy frowned at her feet. “It’s just a meal. I can do a meal.”

“Exactly! So can your dad. It’s just a meal. He can handle that by himself,” he said.

“I’m cooking,” Trucy insisted, stomping her foot.

“Why are you so stubborn about this?” Apollo sighed. Then, he noticed her fists shaking with emotion. “Trucy…” He watched her closely. “Is this really just about cooking?”

Her sharp blue eyes shot up to glare at Apollo. “Polly! You’re perceiving me?!”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Apollo muttered, “Sorry. Habit. But answer me truthfully, Trucy.” He looked at her again, his brown orbs warm and gentle now. “This isn’t just about cooking lunch, is this?”

“I’m supposed to be the one who cooks lunch every day,” Trucy replied.

“So you see it as a- um… a duty?”

A silent nod.

“So skipping out makes you feel bad?” Apollo asked as he pulled a chair out and sat on it. “Like you’re not doing your part?”

Another nod. This time, she tentatively added, “It’s like a contract.”

He hummed in understanding. Then, he dragged another chair out and patted the seat.

Gingerly, Trucy sat down beside him. Her hands gripped the sides of the chair, tense.

“I kind of get it,” Apollo began. “I mean, being a foster kid, most of my relationships with my guardians feel like contracts too. ‘If you don’t do this and that, you won’t get, um, whatever.’ So I kind of get it. That kind of spread to my other relationships to be honest. So I always get this guilt when I’m not — I don’t know — performing?”

Trucy huffed in amusement.

“Have I ever told you about my best friend?”

“Clay?”

“Yeah, him. I used to always set rules for myself on what I should do for and with Clay,” Apollo continued. “I’d, um, not go for things, like parties or school projects, if he wasn’t going with me because I felt bad enjoying myself without him and stuff like that. When he found out, he got so mad at me and said it was dumb.”

Trucy snickered. “That is dumb.”

“Yeah, because, you know, he really hated that I wasn’t doing things for myself because I had set my own rules for our friendship. Well, the point I’m making is this,” Apollo said. “People who care about you wouldn’t want your relationship with them to restrict or hurt you, you know? People who really care would want the best for you, I think.” He looked up at Trucy. “And I think your father cares about you. A lot.”

Trucy was silent. She wasn’t meeting his eyes.

“I-I hope the things I said made sense,” Apollo stuttered. “I was just saying what I thought. I’m really not that good with words- URNGH!”

Trucy had slammed her face into his chest. Stiffly, Apollo’s arms hovered at his shoulder level as the teenager tightened her embrace. A fond smile spread across his face. Slowly, he lowered his arms over her shoulders and pat between her shoulder blades.

“Thanks, Polly,” Trucy said as she pulled back. She shot him a cheeky grin. “You make a pretty decent older brother.”

Apollo rolled his eyes. “Quit teasing me. Now, go sleep. I have a meal to make.”

[hqimaginess]

Heeeeeey!!! I'm your fan & your writing is awesome💫 May I request a scenario or headcanons with 3th year Lev who's in a long distance relationship with Karasuno's manager and she's also a halfie and just cute re-encounter and banter during bthe training camp. Maybe a bit of angst because of a misunderstanding with Nekoma's manager who has a crush on Lev and starts some drama? Also, can I request a chubby reader? Anyways thanks so much and feel free to twist the prompt ♥️

It’s crazy how long this took for me to get out. It literally deleted itself four times so this scenario has caused me to pull all my hair out. Also,,,,I’m sorry anon, you said I could twist the prompt so I took quite some liberty with this one. And another thing, may not be the best of quality but it’s long as all hell, and I hope that somehow makes up for it

You checked your phone one last time before putting it back into your pocket, your eyes shortly after returning to the window you sat next to. Your mind was completely elsewhere as you stared at the cars and buildings that passed by in a blur. The pace of your heart picked itself up a few levels as you thought of what was to come, an excited and childlike smile gracing your features. ‘Two more hours.’  Only two more hours, and you were going to see Haiba Lev, your boyfriend of three years, again.

As it had uncountable times, Karasuno was on their way to another summer training camp held with Nekoma. And you were, of course, happy for your team members and the fact that they would have more time to practice against a strong team. However, that couldn’t concern you one bit, in all honesty. You were beyond happy for them. But much bigger, much more important things filled your mind. You were going to see your boyfriend again after three whole months of his absence in your life. Sure, there was texting and FaceTime. But it wasn’t nearly enough for you, not anymore. You wanted to hold him like you always did during these reunions, you wanted to feel him after so long of being apart, you wanted to see him. Not through the screen of your phone, but with your very own eyes. And because of just that, nothing else in that moment could matter too much to you, in honesty. You could only think about seeing him once again; the things you two would do, the things you would say, all of it. ‘Two more hours.’

Time flew by with surprising speed, because before you knew it, you were forcibly swung back to reality by the loud, screeching halt of the bus. You should have waited for the players to get off the bus before you even made an inch to move, as all of the other managers did. But you just couldn’t control yourself. Your legs moved entirely on their own as you ran up ahead, your feet hitting the hard cement before the electric doors could even think to open properly. At once, your eyes were scanning through the crowd of the crowd of volleyball players. It never was all that difficult for you to find Lev, considering just how large he was, even with there being as many people as there were. But still, despite that, you couldn’t see him anywhere, which did add a small layer of disappointment to settle in the pit of your stomach. You made your way through the crowd, pushing past the many very large volleyball players in search for your boyfriend. Despite all your efforts, you still couldn’t find. You did, however, find someone else familiar to you that, for the moment, would do just as good.“Inuoka!” the call of his name lead to the boy the quickly turning his head in the direction of your voice, smiling energetically while he watched your figure jog towards him. The very moment you stopped in front of him, he grabbed you in a large hug, lifting you off the ground. You gave a loud laugh as you hugged him back, your worried mood from earlier fading out instantly from the sight and embrace of your old friend. “How are you?” you asked once he let go, a little breathless from the sheer tightness of the embrace. He grinned, his hand now resting on your shoulder, “I’m good. Even better now, you?”

“Oh right! I’m good, I’m looking for Lev, though. Have you seen him?” you asked, much calmer now as the question reminded you of what you originally came to ask him for. And from what you assumed was thought, his hand removed itself from its place on your shoulder, and his smile faltered just the slightest bit. But said once more, you assumed it was from thought more than anything else, so you chose it to be fine. “Yeah, the last place I saw him was at the entrance to the main building over there,” he pointed to where he was talking about, and with that, you were gone, continuing on with your original task after giving your friend a tight, slightly lingering goodbye hug.

It didn’t take you long to reach the door, just a few instances of weaving through several of  those ridiculously tall athletes. After that was over, you pushed your way through the doors and were straightaway introduced to the sound of giggles emitting from two people. Your eyes flickered to where the laughter was from, and with seeing who you stood there, your smile broadened greatly while your heart skipped a minor beat, sunshine practically radiating off of you.  Leaning against the back wall of the very large entrance room, stood the silver haired boy who you had been looking for this entire time, as well as a girl who you didn’t know. You didn’t know her, yet she looked oddly familiar. But then you remembered, ‘Ah, wait. I think she’s that new manager for Nekoma.’  The two of them laughed together quietly, over what you assumed to be a joke he had told earlier. You couldn’t concern yourself with that matter very long, however. You were too focused on your current happiness over just the mere fact you had found him to notice any signs. Signs of what was here, and what was to come.

“Lev!” His head snapped towards your direction and his eyes widened. The male wasn’t offered much time to reply, however, as you already had started your way over to the pair of them. The second you reached him, you were immediately on Lev, hugging him with enough warmth and tenderness to melt a glacier. “Oh! I’m sorry. I was on my way outside to look for you, but I just got a little sidetracked for a second,” he tried to explain while his arms draped themselves over your figure, a nervous laugh playing at his tone. With your head buried into his chest, you shrugged it off and gave a hum, attempting to voice to him your lack of concern without using words. But after a few seconds, you had to pull your face away from his chest to look up and meet Lev’s eyes, your giddy and excited smile melting to turn into something a thousand times more adoring towards him. “That’s fine. I get to see you again, that’s all I care about,” your voice practically quivered and your eyes practically sparkled with each word from the absolute excitement of it all. The other girl was on her way to leave by now. In the very back of your mind, you couldn’t help but to find it strange that the girl had not left earlier than this, but again, you chose to ignore it. You’ve always been a perceptive girl, noticing many things, no matter how small. But somehow, by some means, you managed to miss the way your boyfriend’s eyes briefly flickered to the girl’s leaving form, his gaze following her movements just a moment before hurriedly returning back to you, a small, unsure smile stretching across his face. You, somehow, managed to not notice this. Or again, maybe you just chose to ignore it.Two days of the training camp had gone by with a breeze, with everything going as it should. Everything had gone as it should, aside from the fact that you had been given barely a moment to spend with your boyfriend, just the two of you on your own. Being the leading manager to a team of energetic, rowdy teenage boys was already difficult enough for its own reasons. But with this added onto it, one would describe you as more than irritable. However, as it often did, that irritation soon erased itself, while it was then replaced your usual eagerness and enthusiasm. Because in between one of the matches, Lev managed to break away from the rest of his team as he walked up to you. The ace leaned down quite some amount and quietly spoke in your ear, tone low enough to where no one else would hear clearly, as he simply said, “Meet me by the entrance at nine.” After finished speaking, he flashed you a look, one that in truth, you couldn’t completely define at the moment, before he promptly returned to his place with the rest of the Nekoma team.The scenery that surrounded you that night was nothing far from beautiful, it was absolutely stunning. It would have been completely pitch black if it hadn’t been for the thousands of stars that laid painted across the sky, providing just the right amount of illumination for you to be able to see the every defined detail of the trees that stood tall and proud, enclosing your vision to their masses. And it was gorgeous, taking the breath straight from your very lungs.It was strange, even a little ironic, maybe. It was strange just how little the beauty you saw matched the words you heard just moments ago.“I’ve met someone else.”

It was a very simple sentence that didn’t explain very much. It was quite a bit vague, in fact. It could have meant so many things, and yet, you could say that in that moment, you knew exactly what those words meant. It was a gut feeling, but still, you knew. But still, even while having the strongest gut feeling of the meaning behind these simple words, you still asked with a shaky voice, “What do you mean?”

“I met a girl. And, well, I really like her,” he didn’t really finish his explanation all that well, but he didn’t really need to. Your hunch only strengthened as to what he was trying to get at, you guessed Lev just couldn’t find the words to break the news to you in a way that seemed at all genuine. A harsh swallow travelled down your throat while your hands balled into fists, the grip alone on yourself so tight that you could feel your nails tempting to break through the skin of your palm. Your heart was beating so wildly that it almost stopped you from hearing all other noise, as it filled your eardrums to the absolute brim, which in turn added a headache to all the other symptoms you were currently feeling. You wanted to say something so desperately, but you couldn’t. What could you have said? How does one respond to hearing things like this? You didn’t know, and so you settled for standing in silence, eyes still not yet leaving his uneasy figure.

As it seemed you were unable to speak, you instead used the time to rack your brain, search for memories. There had to be signs, there had to be things that you hadn’t noticed or things that you simply had chosen not to notice. It didn’t take barely any time for it to hit you, almost all of it at once; The secretive giggles, the quick side glances, all of it. ‘How could I have been so dumb.’

“The new manager.”

Lev merely nodded at your observation. You must have been a masochist, because after seeing his confirmation, you had one question left, “Have you two…done anything together?” 

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

‘Oh.’ You didn’t need to hear any more to know what exactly that meant. You didn’t think your heart could feel more pain than it already had, but in that moment, you were proven dead wrong.

It felt as if your stomach were twisting itself in a knot and your blood was running cold. Tears threatened to leak from your eyes, as they so desperately wanted to. But you didn’t want to give him that. You didn’t want to give Lev the power in seeing you cry because of what he’d done, and so, because of that, you held them down, using all of your strength to do. Instead of letting those tears fall, you forced your eyes to search the boy’s face, trying to find something, anything that resembled some form of remorse. It only ended with you turning up empty handed. Lev looked guilty, but he didn’t look sorry.

Another realization hit you then. Somewhere down the line, somewhere during those three years of you knowing this man, something, which was very fundamental, had changed. This was not the boy you had originally met and grown to fall in love with. This was not the energetic boy who had sometimes been too honest for his own wellbeing.

As you continued to stare at his expression, the more you were sure of it; something had changed during these years, this was not the man you once knew, this was not the man you once loved. And with the more you thought about this, you could feel the gut wrenching sadness that had once settled in the pit of stomach fade ease and have its place taken by anger. Rage, even.You took a couple steps towards him so that there was only just a foot between you and Lev. One would guess that the new emotion you were beginning to was as clear as the sky on that face of yours, because as you took those steps, Lev’s own face contorted into surprise, his eyes growing slightly alarmed. Once the gap between you was for the most part closed, you jabbed the tip of your index finger into his chest, earning a good huff from him. “You cheated on me? You’ve been leading me on for three months as I waited patiently for you. I turned down people that have wanted to hang out so many times whenever they asked me to hang out, just so I could make time to call you. And for what? For you to not only sneak off with some first year, but for you to break it to me in this half assed way? Well, fuck you,” your heated words obviously surprised Lev, as it was now his turn to stare at you, his face basically covered by the mere size of his widened eyes and his gaping mouth, an expression that reminded you very much of a large eyed fish out of water. He couldn’t find the words to say in response to your outburst, which ended up only irritating you further.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, which in reality may have been only just a few moments, you stepped back, giving him one more chance to say something, anything. And yet, still, he gave you nothing. You turned to walk away, thinking yourself finally done with the entire situation, but you were only able to take a few steps towards the doors of the main building before you suddenly stopped and looked back at him. Seeing his face seemed to only fan your flaming mood. Neither of you had expected what happened next, as it had happened within just the blink of an eye. It was purely out of instinct, you only realized what you’d done after the damage had been laid down.

Without you even being offered the chance to think over it, your hand reached out with all its force and striked Lev right across the cheek, the action producing a sharp sound that vibrated through your very core, then settled heavily in the depth of your stomach, heavy as if it were cement. He had almost a clear foot of height on you, and he was beyond stronger than you. Physically, there was not much impact aside from the glowing red mark that began to spread across his cheek, leaving a small stinging twinge in its wake. But the shock factor made up for all of that, and it was good enough for you. For a handful of seconds, he stared at you, and you stared right back at him. But you couldn’t bear to look at his face for much longer than this. And so, before Lev could properly react to any of it whatsoever, you made your final turn to leave and hurriedly walked back into the building. Lev called your out in an attempt to get your attention back on his. But like all of his attempts tonight, it was a weak attempt, an attempt you deemed no longer worth your time.

Your eyesight was blurred to an extreme extent as you now let the tears, ones that had been so begging to leave with such aching want for so long, flow freely. You couldn’t concern yourself with any of your surroundings, all you could do in that moment was try and find your way back to your bed with this new partial blindness. But there was a small noise of someone ahead of you, causing you to turn your head up while you tried to see who was out there. It was still dark, and your vision was already blocked enough from your previous and current crying. After squinting your eyes a good amount, you could just barely make out a vague image of the person, it was vague but, still, you could tell who exactly it was.

You felt a huge rush of relief fill your entire being, a small smile playing at your tired lips, “Inuoka.”

Inuoka opened his mouth to speak when his eyes landed on your tear streaked face, obvious concern towards your emotional appearance evident on his own face. But not a word could be currently said as you suddenly shushed him for some unknown reason. You heard small, distant footsteps approaching the two of you, which you could only assume to be Lev returning back to his room, as you had been. You didn’t want to see him again, you couldn’t. Not yet, at least. And so, you did what, in that moment, you thought to be the most logical answer to avoiding your newly established ex. With surprising quickness, you grabbed Inuoka’s wrist and dragged him behind you, completely ignoring his protests of confusion as you pulled him into the nearest storage closet with you.

Once the two of you had finally caught your breath, your hands began to trail the walls in search of any light switch. It didn’t take you long to find one, as a very dim light bulb that hung above the two of your heads slowly brightened, swaying back and forth slightly.

You were no longer shedding tears, but it was obvious that you had been. Your eyes were puffy and red, and your nose was sniffly. “Are you okay?” Inuoka finally asked as everything settled, his voice was unsure of himself, yet undoubtedly concerned. You couldn’t have said anything at that moment, so you simply shook your head, your eyes casting themselves downwards to stare at the floor. You focused on the small details of the floor because, at that time, anything would have been better than meeting those intense eyes of his. He seemed to understand because he nodded, accepting your silence as an answer.

But Inuoka couldn’t just stand there and watch you fall, he couldn’t allow himself to let you take whatever burdens you had been holding one your own. And so his body moved, almost on its own accord. And though it surprised you, you said nothing while you felt his arms wrap around your frame, pulling you flush into his chest. You instantly closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around him in return, accepting his affections with open arms. Inuoka’s hugs had always been so incredibly warm, as well as crushingly tight. Every time he would trap you in these numerous embraces, it always felt as if you had no escape, no matter what. But it wasn’t as if you ever wanted to escape his embrace to begin with.

After what seemed like forever, yet still not being long enough, he let go of you. There was just a small moment of silence before you asked him, suddenly curious, “Why were you out here?”

To this, he smiled that teasing grin of his. A smile, that deep down, added a feeling that had been long ago suppressed within you, one that had always made your heart stutter from its original beat, “I heard someone shouting, so I wanted to check it out. You always have been pretty loud.” In response to his comment at you, you gave his shoulder the punch that, in your opinion, he well deserved, but you still couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on your previously gloomy expression.

“You wanna talk about it?” he finally asked you, his eyes a small bit curious but also very concerned. From thought, you sighed. In truth, you didn’t want to talk about any of it. It was be hard to relive the events of tonight, it would make you officially realize it was over. But despite yourself and these thoughts, you sat yourself down on the floor and crossed your legs before promptly patting the space in front of you. Inuoka did as you gestured to and sat down directly in front of you, and since there being not much room in the supply closet, he ended up being very close, the both of your knees practically overlapping one another. It did add a small prick of discomfort to your situation, considering the smallness of the space you were in. Yet, contrasting that original feeling of discomfort, it did add a strange form of consolation for you, just being so close to someone, well, being so close to him.

And so you told him everything that had happened. You retold all of the details of your affairs that night, the good, the bad, all of it. Well, considering there hadn’t been much good to your night, it was mostly the bad.

With retelling your heated moments, you began to grow heated again yourself. During different moments of speaking, you had your energetic ups and downs; you had your moments of pride, your moments of outrage, your moments of sadness. During all these moments, Inuoka simply watched in silence, nodding every now and then if you ever looked at him for some shape of agreement. Other than that, he just sat there, watching in silence while he patiently waited for you to get all of the steam left in you, out. With time, you did, getting every single frustration of yours out with one final, fluid motion. You looked back at Inuoka, just slightly breathless from your lengthy speech, while you began to feel your mood, as well as self esteem, sink lower and lower from the deadly silence.

“Was it me? Was it something I did wrong?” you asked, more to yourself than anyone else, the feeling of your voice cracking between every other syllable only adding salt to your already ghastly opened wound. With these words, Inuoka felt finally compelled enough to speak up. He grabbed your hand with his, his grip firm and unrelenting, as his other hand placed itself on your cheek with much more gentler touch, forcing you to look at him dead in the eyes. His touch surprised you, but once again, you made no effort to shy away from it. So you just stared at him, eyes widening only slightly from the sternness of the contact. “What are you saying? Why would you even say that? I’m blown away that you would even think that it’s an ounce of your fault,” he began, his tone sounding agitated while a frown set itself on his lips. From his sharp tone, a deep frown grew on yours as well. Inuoka noticed your mood plummeting even further, and so his features softened just as quickly as they had originally hardened. After a quick second of stillness, Inuoka leaned forward, just a small distance, and placed chaste, slow kiss to the top of your head, just getting past the hairline. His movements were slow, but deep down, you found yourself thinking it to be all too quick. It was such a small action, and yet it was so comforting, so incredibly significant in all its fond gentleness. It was small, yet at the same time it had been so very big. Something in the atmosphere of this tiny storage closet had changed after this touch. What it had changed exactly to, you couldn’t pinpoint. But it had changed, that was sure.From the quiet, you suddenly felt the pad of his thumb stroke the back of your hand, and a quiet, croaky voice asking, “Is this okay?”

You knew he wasn’t talking about your hand, and he knew you knew that. You knew exactly what Inuoka meant. And despite knowing exactly what he meant, being a little breathless, you said, “Yes.” Your eyes closed as you felt it, the soft pressure against your lips. His movements were gentle and careful, a little unsure, even. Inuoka’s lips were warm, heated with comfort. Lev’s always had been very cold.

Thoughts of the other male left your mind as soon as they had come, because you felt Inuoka’s hand leave yours and take its place at your other cheek. As he held your face with such security, you couldn’t help but lean forward, pressing your weight into the male. Heat rose to your cheeks, sending a ticklish, pleasant tingle throughout your entire body. You opened your eyes for just a mere moment, and you saw his eyes closed, as yours had been, his features inflamed from his embarrassed expression. Seeing this, something in you snapped, broke.

It may have been that you were not exactly in the right place of mind because of your extremely recent and heavy breakup. Or, it may have been the constant, almost suffocating tension that has been building up from years of time, entrapping the both of you with its friendship. You didn’t know what it was, and you couldn’t care. All you knew, was that in that moment, something in you snapped, and you threw all remaining caution to the wind.

In just a split second, you found yourself pushing the brunette down onto his back, knocking the wind out of him as you then straddled yourself onto his hips, pressing your weight into his. You were wasting no time in escalating the position you two were in, as your tongue slipped past his lips, this being very easy considering the gasp he’d given earlier, the both of you moaning softly into one another’s mouths at the simple contact of tongues. His warmth was absolutely intoxicating, as was yours. It was nothing below addictive. The potent taste of his mouth, the smooth feel of his lips, the spreading warmth of his hands that left an overwhelming fire in its wake with every inch of skin he touched; it all was edging you closer and closer into a frenzy. 

In the midst of the make out, your mind somehow found it’s way drifting back to the silver haired boy who, just moments ago, you were so furious with. The two of you had made out on countless occasions, of course. But they never had became so heated or so impassioned, either you or him would end up stopping half way through, never pushing past that line. Maybe that’s why things ended between the two of you the way that they did. And maybe that’s why you ended up here, broken up and now on top of your best friend, tied with him in aching fervency. Inuoka seemed to be very welcoming of it, as well, his tongue dancing with yours with as much eagerness as yours, hands gripping excitedly at your hips as they rocked into his, your hands resting at his shoulders. The soft, gentle sounds the both of you made combined together, twirled to form one, flawless melody. Your hands finally reached where they had been itching to reach, where things would truly accelerate. Your fingers danced across the button of his jeans, twirling it between your fingers for a moment before finally beginning to push it through the hole holding it, a small smile growing on your lips.

“Wait, wait, stop.”

These words surprised you, and so you did as he said, you stopped. You pushed yourself away from Inuoka, the both of you left panting heavily in order to take back the air once lost. You stared at his flushed face, your face heating up tenfold in turn as the true realization hit you at what you had just done. Not only what you had just done, but he had also turned you down, as well.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” you sputtered out frantically, it felt as if your face would explode from the heat building in it. This was awful, completely horrendous. Within one night, you had been both dumped and rejected, somehow, things could not have been more embarrassing for you.

Embarrassment, however, left you for a brief moment as it was then replaced with confusion when you saw the brunette shake his head, a small smile playing at his lips even as his blush managed to deepen. “No, don’t be. I want to do this with you. God, I want to. But you’re not thinking clearly right now,” Inuoka started, and you had a very strong urge to argue with him on his latter comment, but continued to hold your silence as you listened on to his reasonings.

His face looked serious, no longer holding its flustered gaze, his own words reflecting his serious expression as he spoke, a little quiet, “You’re not over him yet, and I get that. How could you be? But that’s why I’m not gonna go there with you. I’ve waited a long time for you, I can wait a little longer.” It was an indirect way of saying what Inuoka really wanted to tell you, but you understood his meaning. You noticed the last part of his speech and the pace of your  heart picked up at an alarming rate, the beat of it so powerful you could feel the tingly bass of it through your fingertips. Rather than arguing with him, for the several things he said, you simply looked at him, eyes entranced by his own. 

Eventually, after what felt like a millennium, you couldn’t help but to smile at him. It was a very strange smile, one that sent the boy too many messages to all be read. It showed him that he was right, you weren’t ready for him. But you could be, and you would. It showed him you were thankful, for the company as well as the understanding. It showed him that you loved him, and you always had in some part of you, but still, you weren’t ready, not yet.

You grabbed his hand in yours, your grip hesitant and apprehensive as you leaned forward, placing one last kiss on his lips before slowly pulling away. The kiss acted as a temporary goodbye to such affection. The both of you knew what you had to do before anything could even begin to think of blooming as it so desperately wanted to. You had to figure out all the many things happening in that mind of yours, along with all the things of your heart. You had to “find” yourself, as some would say. But that was fine. Inuoka had waited a long time for you, and he could wait some more.

[runway-rpg-blog1]

In Character

Skeleton Title: Westwood

Character Name: Lucas Madison

Faceclaim: Chris Pine

Age: 29

Pronouns: he/him

Biography:

You’re difficult. You always have been. Difficult can mean anything, depending on the context. It can mean disobedient, or rude, or stubborn. It can mean too emotional or too distant. In your case, it just means too much. You’re too loud, too excitable, too intense. You say things too dramatically, or you say too much at the wrong time. You flirt too much, and pull away too fast.

When you’re a kid, it’s your emotions that are too much. You laugh loud when you’re happy, and wail when you’re upset, and break things when you’re angry. When your mother gets home from work late at night you’re still awake, running to the door to greet her with all the excitement of a puppy. She’s too tired to hug you, and makes a beeline for the bedroom where she collapses into a deep sleep. She’ll be up again tomorrow for the next surgery, hurrying out the door while you’ve already left for school. Eventually you stop running to the door, and fall asleep long before she gets home.

One night you wake up to the sounds of raised voices in the kitchen. They echo over the wooden floors of your spacious home and creep in under your door. You lie on the ground and listen at the crack, hearing only bits and pieces between the sounds of your own breath. You know that somewhere in the apartment, your sister might be doing the same. You gather that your father feels lonely, and although he claims he doesn’t, he blames your mother just a bit. She blames herself too, and starts to feel like he wants her to quit her job, or opt for something easier. “Why are you always assuming that? Do you not trust me?” The slam of a door reverberates through the house.

Many more sleepless nights follow, and eventually you get used to lying awake, staring at the ceiling. Occasionally your sister tiptoes in to show you a new song. You don’t really like her taste, but you listen anyway. You know it’s not really about the music. At first, you try talking to them. You get too upset, and your father reprimands you for getting so involved in the first place, so you pull back in more ways than one.

At school you start to act out. You realize you’re a cliché-- the teenager with problems at home, starting fights and skipping classes. Your sister gives you worried glances when you walk by in the halls, but she doesn’t bring it up to your parents. They’re too busy with their own problems. You’re well into your sophomore year when they decide to get divorced. Your mother keeps the condo in Manhattan while your father moves to a more affordable place in Brooklyn. You swap houses for a while, but eventually someone decides it’s easier if you just stay with your dad.

This is when people start fading out of your life. You don’t see your mother all that often, and at some point you stop putting effort into making time for her. It’s not like she ever did the same for you. Your sister applies to universities and, because she’s always been the dedicated one, most of them offer her a place. She heads off to California as soon as summer ends. Your father slips into a robotic routine. The divorce took a lot out of him, and all of his energy goes to making sure you and him have money and food. Home is empty most of the time, so you go out every night to find some new entertainment

Somehow you adopt the family tradition of disappearing. You make friends easily, but when they lean too close you lean away, or disappear altogether. .

By the time you graduate your grades have tanked, but you somehow scrape by enough to earn your diploma and get into a city college. You major in biology, but you drop out after your first term (that move even earns an angry call from your mother, which only encourages you). You find a new job every few months, and eventually you end up bartending. It pays the bills and you’re good at, even if it’s not really a career.

The first time you even consider modelling is when someone approaches you at work. You’re flirtatious, as usual, leaning on the bar and flashing those blue eyes and that wide smile, and to your surprise they hand you a business card, rather than a number scribbled hastily on a napkin. You pocket it thoughtlessly, but when it falls on the floor of your apartment later you can’t stop thinking about it. You need some sort of future other than bartending. You call the number and a few days later you’re walking onto a set, completely out of your element.

It evolves, somehow, into a career. You keep your apartment in Brooklyn and buy a motorcycle with the funds from your freelance photoshoots. Runway is an often-whispered name in the fashion industry, and when they

You fit in well at Runway. Most of the people in the fashion industry are intense and driven, and while you’ve never had much motivation for anything, you have a natural charm and an energetic demeanor that makes up for it. You make a friend out of everyone if you can, although you have a habit of pulling back at the last second.call you for an interview you’re, in all honesty, stunned. You put on your best outfit and walk in with all the confidence you have (far too much, you’ve been told), and you get the call a week later.The job fits. It feels like every eye is on you, and you bask in it like a cat in a sunbeam. You have a natural charm and an easygoing attitude, and it makes it easy to get along with your coworkers-- no matter how abrasive some of them might be. You know you can ruffle feathers here and there, but you’ve developed a thick skin over the years. So thick, in fact, that it’s impenetrable both ways. That’s fine-- you’re happy with the easy conversations, the shallow small talk, where you skirt around the real stuff. Really, it’s… fine.

Interview

What do you want most in life?

Lucas never tends to consider the future. Most of his decisions in the past have been made on impulse-- going to college, dropping out of college, becoming a bartender, becoming a model-- none of them had been dreams, just fast-paced decisions. So “what do you want most in life?” is more like “what do you want right now?” to him, and what he wants right now is this job. But that would seem shortsighted to them. They want ambition and motive, not some mindless Runway groupie... even for a model. “Recognition,” he decides, and for once, the answer doesn’t feel like a façade. “I’ve worked for other magazines and catalogues and designers, but it always felt like I was reaching too small of an audience. I don’t just want to be seen… I want to be remembered, and Runway is nothing if not memorable.”

Bill Cunningham, internationally-known fashion photographer, once said that “fashion is the armor to survive the reality of everyday life.” Would you agree or disagree?

“Armor?” He sits back, rotating the swivel chair back and forth as he thinks. “Could be. I’m not sure armor is the right word.” A moment more of thought; the interviewer waits with attentive eyes, seemingly used to snappier responses, but Lucas could care less. If he wants to get a job here he needs to impress, not blend in, and the pause makes it just a touch more dramatic. “No, I think fashion is a weapon. Sure, any New York businessperson who wakes up in the morning and throws on the same old suit they always do-- that’s armor. But real fashion, the stranger stuff, off the beaten path? We don’t wear it to slip through the crowd unharmed. We wear it to alarm people. To catch attention.” He leans forward in his chair, straightening his jacket. “See, I didn’t come in here wearing any old suit, I came in here with this--” an over-dramatic, sweeping gesture to his body-- “because I want to stand out. I’m not trying to protect myself from you. I’m trying to catch your attention.” Flashing that prize-winning smile, he settles back into his chair, ready for the next question

Fashion is a cutthroat industry; sometimes you need to do whatever it takes to get ahead. Are you prepared to do that?

Has anyone ever said no to this? The answer they want is right there in the question. In fashion, you have to do whatever it takes-- but Lucas wouldn’t call himself ruthless. He knows how to manipulate, and at times he lies to get himself out of trouble, or into something he wants, but in all honesty he doesn’t really care enough about fashion to throw someone under the bus for it. “Not really,” he says, hoping that they won��t write him off immediately, “but that’s not my job. If you want someone who’s willing to break everyone else down for their own success, grab any of the other applicants out there. But I’m good at this. I’m here because I have talent, and I didn’t need to drag anyone else down to get to this interview. If you don’t believe me, the proof is in the pictures.”

Anything else?

Headcanons:

Lucas hates to be alone. He’ll stay at work as long as possible, hovering around until everyone is gone, and then move on to a bar or restaurant, or just walk around the city until he’s tired enough to go to bed.

He and his sister used to be best friends, and he still considers her one, even though they hardly talk.

He has too many injuries to count-- as a kid he’d get into endless trouble, and it often ended with a broken bone.

Here’s a link to a graphic I made for Lucas!