#listen my goal is not to get “caught up”

[chaehwa-archives]

friendly rivalry deep dive part 17

cw: suicide

Pictured above: Me, twirling my gay little pink scarf in delight, as I prepare to type one million paragraphs about one of my favorite scenes in Friendly Rivalry.

This rooftop scene. This rooftop scene!!! The first time I watched FR, by this point, I was hooked. But this might be the scene that doomed me to never again be able to shut tf up about this show for as long as I live.

This isn’t the endpoint of Jae-yi’s character arc—we have a long way to go—but it’s the culmination of her growth so far. To do it full justice, I want to recap her arc up to this point. Bear with me bc this post is going to be a novella.

The Jae-yi we first encounter has sunk deep into a pit of depression and self-loathing. While she maintains an impeccable facade as the girl who has everything, the weight of her guilt and repression are crushing her. She’s done terrible things to maintain her place at the top, including alienating the only person in her family who ever cared about her. To cope, she does everything she can to distance herself from her emotions. And she begins to fantasize about escape.

But as much as Jae-yi tries to convince herself she has no heart, in reality she is always driven by emotion, even at her coldest and most calculating. In this recap I’ll focus on two emotions in particular: love and fear.

We can see both in the scene after she hurts her sister in Episode 3. She’s heartbroken because she loves Je-na, and doesn’t want to hurt someone she loves. But her father steers her away from compassion toward a different emotion: What if Je-na doesn’t love her back? What if Je-na would even kill her?

Love comes naturally to Jae-yi. Fear has to be taught.

Over time, under her father’s influence, fear becomes the primary emotion driving her. Fear of her sister causes her to distance herself. Fear of her own emotions tells her to lock away her heart where no one can touch it. Fear of the unknown, of the future, compels her to seize control any way she can.

Soon she can imagine only one escape from fear: sinking to the bottom of the Hangang River, where she can’t hurt or be hurt by anyone else. 

Even in contemplating suicide, though, Jae-yi is a control freak. If she’s going to die, she’s going to do it her way, which means taking care of unfinished business first.

In the early episodes, Jae-yi is focused on achieving her goals by any means necessary. She wants to make amends with her sister, if she can. To do that, she needs to find out what happened to her. And she wants to take revenge against her father, the man who turned her life into a waking nightmare.

One person is key to achieving both ends: Woo Seul-gi. Seul-gi is the daughter of Woo Do-hyeok (who she suspects her father of killing) and Do-hyeok is connected to Je-na’s disappearance. Through Seul-gi, Jae-yi can work toward finding her sister and exposing her father at the same time.

To get to Seul-gi, Jae-yi tries every tactic of manipulation in her playbook. But her early efforts are fear-driven—you can tell by their urgency. From day one, she’s pulling out all the stops, cooking up some truly outlandish schemes to bring Seul-gi under her control. If she fails, she has nothing left. This plan is the last bulwark between Jae-yi and the void.

But Seul-gi is more stubborn than anyone she’s met before. Bribery is a failure. Seul-gi sees through her fake “kindness” and rejects it. At first, none of Jae-yi’s elaborate plans work. She only starts to make headway by chance...when she listens to a different impulse.

Consider the first Jae-yi x Seul-gi rooftop scene back in Episode 2. What works isn’t Jae-yi’s original plan (presumably to bribe Seul-gi with cram school materials), or even her improvised plan to call Seul-gi while she’s waiting on the roof. It’s her impulsive and not entirely logical choice to go up to the roof directly (aren’t they more likely to get caught this way?) that finally convinces Seul-gi to take her hand.

What emotion tells her to go?

In Episode 3, it’s not the new uniform that earns Seul-gi’s trust, but the spontaneous moment in the closet when Jae-yi protects Seul-gi by covering her ears. What emotion tells her to do that? What feeling tells her to keep reaching for Seul-gi, to keep looking at her, touching her? Is all of that necessary for her plan to work?

Throughout these early episodes we can see a pattern developing: Jae-yi’s plans, at least when it comes to Seul-gi, rarely succeed. It’s the moments when she deviates from those plans, like when she tells the story of her scuba diving trip, that bring her and Seul-gi closer together. It’s when she isn’t in control—those moments of surrender when she allows this strange other emotion to take over.

Yeeep it’s love babey.

The more she opens her heart, though, the more she begins to doubt herself. Her plan is working, but at the same time her feelings, stifled by fear until now, are waking up—and they start telling her, “Hey, this is kind of fucked up?” What if hurting Seul-gi isn’t worth whatever she can gain from her?

Jae-yi has a crisis of faith. She’s tired of mind games. She’s almost ready to admit to herself that she might want something different with this girl: a relationship based on more than domination and control. But just when she’s ready to forsake the game, Seul-gi distances herself. And oof. It hurts.

To her surprise, Jae-yi realizes that she cares what Seul-gi thinks of her. She doesn’t want Seul-gi’s trust because it’s part of her plan—she wants Seul-gi’s trust for real.

But she still hasn’t figured out how she gained that trust in the first place. It was never her big-brain 4D chess moves that won Seul-gi’s heart. And now she’s afraid again—afraid that Seul-gi doesn’t feel the same way, that she’ll never win her back, that she isn’t worthy of love anyway. And fear brings on a relapse. It brings her right back to all her old manipulative ways. 

In Episode 7 we find Jae-yi torn between these emotions. She loves Seul-gi, but love hasn’t liberated her from fear. It’s made her more afraid. Now she has something—someone—to lose.

“Fear” might seem like a strange way to approach this scene. Jae-yi doesn’t seem very fearful. Ever since Episode 6, when she hatches her plot to lure Seul-gi back into her orbit, she’s been ecstatic. Just look at her wicked little smile as she watches Seul-gi make her way to the rooftop. Once again, everything is going her way—all according to plan.

But what kind of person needs a plan like this? What kind of person tricks their crush into thinking they’re on drugs just to pretend to rescue them from being incriminated by a urinalysis?? I mean damn Jae-yi how hard is it to send a “heyy ur kinda cute? haha jk but do u like girls” dm?

Only a scared and insecure person would ever think of a plan this unhinged. And Jae-yi has good reason to be afraid. Seul-gi doesn’t even know the half of what she’s done. How could Seul-gi ever trust her, let alone return her feelings, if she knew the truth?

Bad habits become habits in the first place because they feel good. Seul-gi takes the pills because they make her feel secure, and Jae-yi plays these games for the same reason. If she weren’t terrified, she wouldn’t bother.

But something interesting happens offscreen before Seul-gi goes through the door to meet her conqueror. The Jae-yi she encounters on the roof isn’t smirking with satisfaction, savoring her victory. She isn’t tripping off the first hit of dopamine she’s had in months, like in Ep 6 when she meets Seul-gi in the skate park. She isn’t playing any of the roles we’ve seen her play so far: the bad girl, the noble savior, the sympathetic friend.

She’s standing on the edge of the roof, on a high ledge, looking down.

We know that, for Jae-yi, anticipation is a form of control. She likes to imagine things before they happen, to brace herself for the blow. It’s not just painful things she likes to anticipate, either. All this time she’s been eagerly awaiting her rendezvous with Seul-gi, wearing that devious little grin. She’s looking forward to it.

So she’s up here on the roof kicking her feet, waiting for the moment when she gets to see Seul-gi face-to-face and talk to her again. And then, before she knows it, her mind wanders to what comes next. So Seul-gi needs her. So what? Is that going to make Seul-gi want to sit next to her on the bus? It’s not even Jae-yi that Seul-gi needs, is it? All she needs (or thinks she needs) is some piss in a cup.

And then she imagines…not seeing that face anymore. Never talking to Seul-gi again.

Victory is hollow for Jae-yi. As soon as she wins, the fun is over, and she’s back to wondering, What the hell did I do all that for? What does any of this matter, if it’s all going to disappear?

That’s where Seul-gi finds Jae-yi. The high has worn off, and she’s staring at the future, trying not to be afraid.

Wow Jae-yi is such a complex character! It’s a good thing Seul-gi is so much more straightforward and easier to read......oh lol nvm.

Seul-gi is just as fascinating as Jae-yi in this scene. If anything she might be harder to read than Jae-yi is. On my first watch, I thought she was basically sincere. She’s beaten, right? She’s found herself in yet another situation where relying on Jae-yi is her only way out—or so she thinks.

But wait. Didn’t she just prove herself Jae-yi’s equal in the midterm test? Why would she choose to debase herself now by begging at Jae-yi’s feet?

When she sees Jae-yi standing on that ledge, her first instinct is not to bow and scrape—she’s furious. She rushes at Jae-yi and lunges straight for the ankle. She’s ready to throw hands—maybe even to push her off the roof!

Then she swallows her anger...and, reluctantly, kneels.

There have been plenty of shots emphasizing the power imbalance between Jae-yi and Seul-gi, but the image of Seul-gi kneeling while Jae-yi stands on the wall above her is the most dramatic by far. Jae-yi towers over Seul-gi, who prostrates herself like a subject before royalty. But it’s also a dramatic image in the theatrical sense—it’s exaggerated, the same way Jae-yi exaggerates her emotions when she’s acting. It’s a subtle hint that Jae-yi’s dominance, and Seul-gi’s submission, are a little less real, less absolute, than they might seem.

Even more than the imbalance, this shot emphasizes the distance between them. They are not on the same page. Seul-gi thinks she knows what Jae-yi wants, but she’s wrong. Jae-yi thinks Seul-gi is sincere…but is she?

We’ve seen Seul-gi put on an act to fool Jae-yi once before. On my second watch I started to wonder if Seul-gi might be putting on a show here too. I mean, she literally says, “I forgot my place.” Girl what?? Seul-gi would never devalue herself like that! She’s many things, but she is NOT ashamed of who she is.

Everything else about this situation is fake: Seul-gi isn’t really on drugs, and she doesn’t really need a urine sample. Jae-yi isn’t really after the settlement, or after Seul-gi’s submission, either. Jae-yi is perched high above Seul-gi, but in reality, she’s at the bottom of a well of despair.

The more I think about it, Seul-gi’s speech only makes sense to me as a performance. She’s trying to make herself seem as pitiful and downtrodden as possible. She still suspects that Jae-yi’s primary motive is the settlement, but she also suspects that Jae-yi likes to feel powerful. And there’s a risk that, by tying with Jae-yi for first place, she’s made an enemy of the most powerful girl in school.

Another hint that Seul-gi is being sneaky is her line about Hankuk University. She claims it’s her goal to get into medical school there, but since when? The only time we’ve seen her talk about Hankuk is when she’s trying to figure out the keychain mystery.

I think Seul-gi is testing her leverage. If she has to swallow her pride and play the part of the lowly bullied orphan girl, how much can she gain from it? Could sucking up to Jae-yi help her get into the top university in the country?

If we understand that Seul-gi is manipulating Jae-yi, then this isn’t just a retread of the rooftop scene from Episode 2, despite the clear parallels. It’s a reversal. There, Jae-yi used her power to gain Seul-gi’s trust, and Seul-gi took the bait of her outstretched hand, unaware of her ulterior motives. Here Seul-gi is the one with ulterior motive, and Jae-yi is the one who takes the bait. 

Their influence on each other is reciprocal. Jae-yi softens when she’s with Seul-gi—she’s less hypervigilant, less suspicious. Seul-gi draws out her latent empathy. And Jae-yi’s scheming side is rubbing off on Seul-gi, too. She’s getting craftier by the day.

So when Seul-gi tugs on Jae-yi’s heartstrings, it works. Jae-yi melts. The part of her that cried for her sister all those years ago stirs again. Just watch Jae-yi’s reaction when Seul-gi says, “I forgot my place.” Jae-yi gulps—and her expression!! The *saddest* guiltiest puppy dog eyes. This is the most openly remorseful Jae-yi has ever been. She’s chastened: This is what the person I care about most thinks of me. This is how awful I seem to her. And she’s not wrong!

Ironically, as Seul-gi explains her theory about the lawsuit, and about how all of Jae-yi’s kindness was emotional manipulation to make her cave in, Seul-gi isn’t the one caving. (Is she really planning to ask her stepmom to sign the settlement papers? I doubt it.) Jae-yi is the one who caves in to Seul-gi’s emotional manipulation. In another genius chess move, Seul-gi snatches victory from defeat.

At least, that’s how the game seems to be going...but Seul-gi’s play has unforeseen consequences. And the game gets weird.

When Seul-gi says she’ll get Jae-yi whatever she wants, Jae-yi responds, “What is it that I want?” It’s rhetorical. She isn’t really asking Seul-gi. But she doesn’t answer her own question, either.

Instead she asks: “What do you want, Seul-gi?”

It’s safe to say that this is not what Seul-gi expected. A simple, direct question from Jae-yi? About her? What kind of mindfuckery is this?

Seul-gi doesn’t know the rules of the game anymore. She doesn’t realize that, for the very first time since they met, Jae-yi’s stopped playing.

Jae-yi has only one model of what a loving relationship looks like, the way Je-na cared for her when they were children. Otherwise she has only her empathy to guide her. It’s empathy that finally prompts her to ask what she should have asked ages ago. Until now she’s been too wrapped up in her own selfish fears to give Seul-gi’s feelings the consideration they deserve—too afraid to face the reality that she’s hurt someone she cares about yet again.

But now she’s standing between two poles: on one side, there is fear and nothingness, and on the other side, there’s Seul-gi.

Jae-yi never says out loud what she wants, but her actions speak louder than words. She turns her back on the void—no more of that. (Sorry, void, you’re just not as cute.) And as she looks down on Seul-gi from high above, Jae-yi realizes something else: She doesn't want this, either.

She hates this distance between them. Hates the way Seul-gi, who stood up to her so proudly, who took her on and beat her at her own game, is reduced to groveling at her feet. Jae-yi knows that Seul-gi doesn’t really need her. She knows that Seul-gi scored the same as her without drugs. This whole farce of dominance and submission is something she’s engineered. There’s nothing *real* about the roles she’s forcing them to play.

Jae-yi stands alone at the top of the world, at the pinnacle of her father’s empire, and realizes there’s nothing up here. The only thing in the world that she wants, the only thing that’s real, is down there.

And she’s hurting her poor knees because of me!

Jae-yi makes a choice. She closes the gap. She climbs down from her elevated position, and she lifts Seul-gi up to her level.

Her supposed “superiority” is bullshit, an illusion, and she knows it.

For once Jae-yi isn’t at all subtle or indirect—she isn’t satisfied with hints or gestures. She states exactly what’s on her mind. From now on Seul-gi’s safety is her top priority. And, by the way, if Seul-gi has any ideas about those pills helping her do better on the exam, she’s wrong. Her name belongs up there. Jae-yi is even honest about her own feelings for once: She wasn’t upset to see Seul-gi’s name next to hers. She was thrilled.

Think about that. This girl has been conditioned all her life to view others as competitors whose success is a threat to her own. But when Seul-gi succeeds, she’s happy.

This happiness is a refutation of her father’s fear-based zero-sum worldview. It’s pure love—and for Jae-yi it’s radical love.

Although this is by far the most straightforward that Jae-yi has ever been, it’s still Jae-yi, so there’s still subtext. Every word and gesture here is an apology. She is finally facing the harm her manipulation has caused, and trying her best to undo it, letting empathy, not fear, guide her. Wiping Seul-gi’s knees is her way of saying: You shouldn’t have to do that. I shouldn’t have *made* you do that. And I will do everything in my power to make sure you are never put in a position beneath me again.

This is a side of Jae-yi that Seul-gi has only seen in brief glimpses. And she wants to believe it—because let’s not forget that Jae-yi isn’t the only one who’s madly in love here. In spite of everything, Seul-gi is still attracted—she wants to see the best in Jae-yi. And she wants this apparent sincerity to be real.

But she isn’t convinced yet. It’s going to take more evidence to repair the trust damaged by Jae-yi’s betrayal.

If Jae-yi is being real—if she genuinely wants to be someone Seul-gi can rely on—then she should be able to keep her word.

Seul-gi confronts Jae-yi about the bargain they made in Episode 6. But really this is a test of integrity. Seul-gi did not score higher than Jae-yi on the midterm exam. If Jae-yi wanted to wriggle out of her end of the deal on a technicality, she could. But who would do that? Only someone who prioritizes games and rules over promises.

If Jae-yi tries to back out or move the goal posts now, she isn’t worth giving the time of day.

Cliffhangerrrrr........and it’s PAINDROP TIME.

(Such a banger.)

Okay I swear to god I’ll try to wrap this up quick—there isn’t that much left! Episode 8 starts with Jae-yi upholding her end of the bargain. She explains how she found Seul-gi’s information, and we know she’s telling the truth—we’ve seen her snooping in her dad’s office.

So she proves her loyalty, Seul-gi scores a ride-or-die baddie, they stab Tae-joon in the neck with a scalpel, make out in the operating theater, and...oh, that’s not what happens?

For all the forward progress this rooftop scene represents, it ends on a surprisingly ambiguous note. I mean, not that surprising, since we aren’t even halfway through the series yet.

After Jae-yi tells Seul-gi the truth, there’s a turn in the conversation. The end of Episode 7 showed Jae-yi finally ready to choose Seul-gi over the game, to choose love over fear. And her love was more than just a subconscious impulse for once—it was a decision to come down off the wall, to face her mistakes, to make amends.

But, in Episode 8, she seems to backslide. Advancing on Seul-gi, she says what almost sounds like a threat: “What you can do for me...I’ll contemplate that.” These words, and the way she says them, are uncomfortably similar to how Tae-joon threatens Ye-ri at the beginning of Episode 7.

What happened Jae-yi? You were doing so well!!

I think she realizes that she’s all out of bargaining chips. She doesn’t have anything that Seul-gi could possibly want from her anymore. She’s given up her piss and her intel—and, once again, fear rears its ugly head.

Jae-yi doesn’t have any ill intent towards Seul-gi—she meant what she said about keeping her safe. But she’s also panicking. Now that she has Seul-gi back, what if she loses her again? How can she keep Seul-gi from abandoning her?

In her insecurity, she clutches at anything she can think of that might keep Seul-gi around—and all she has to fall back on is the game she just tried so hard to quit.

And then of course comes our iconic scarf...and what a symbol it is. I am and will forever be in awe of this final touch on a masterpiece of a scene.

So far Jae-yi’s sincerest gestures of love have been spontaneous. The way she wipes Seul-gi’s knees when she helps her stand up—there’s no calculation in that, just care.

This scarf, on the other hand!! We have been watching her play with this damn scarf for ten minutes straight. The show draws attention to it. This might be the most obviously and ostentatiously planned thing Jae-yi has ever done. She’s been rehearsing this little routine in her mind all day—I wouldn’t be surprised if she practiced tying that knot in the mirror.

The scarf is Part of the Plan. And Jae-yi’s plans, in the past, have been...less than respectful of Seul-gi’s autonomy and personhood. Naturally, as viewers, we’re suspicious of it. Is this another insecure selfish gesture, a way of staking her claim, putting a collar on a pet?

But can love only be spontaneous? Can’t an expression of love and commitment be planned? When Jae-yi pledges to protect Seul-gi, she’s committing to love her as a conscious ongoing choice. That means planning ahead.

Depending on how you read the intent behind it, the action itself transforms. It can be sweet or sinister. It can be both!

And what if Jae-yi’s intent changed? What if her existential crisis on the rooftop makes her decide the scarf is just meant to keep Seul-gi warm, not to mark her property?

I haven’t made my mind up about it yet, and maybe I never will. But this moment perfectly captures all the tensions inside Jae-yi at this point in the story: She wants to protect Seul-gi, but she’s terrified of letting her go. She wants to choose love, but she’s still not free from fear.

The one thing she is ready to do is commit. From now until the bitter end, her heart will belong to no other. Her last bulwark against the void isn’t her plan anymore—it’s Seul-gi.

[nezzza]

A small excerpt from the story of my Au! My brain died translating this. I really hope it came out readable and understandable. The events take place after the first couple of weeks in Orochimaru's hideout after Sasuke and Sakura's arrival. Sasuke had a nightmare (I'm making an illustration for it, so it will be posted separately). Waking up, the young Uchiha hears strange sounds from the dark corridors.

Warning: text contains mentions of violence/hallucinations/guilt

Blinking, Sasuke cleared his vision and stood up. He walked barefoot across the cold stone floor to the door. One push and wooden barrier surrendered, opening the way to dark hideout’s corridors.

Strange sound became louder and then Sasuke understood. He didn’t hallucinate or dream. The wail in the distance, was apparent to him. Someone’s horror and anguish infiltrated with his own mind. They mingled with the remnants of his own inflamed agony from the past nightmare.

Step by step Sasuke could distinguish the voices more accurately and became convinced that he had not gone completely crazy.

When he was only a few meters away from the epicenter of this midnight concert, Sasuke could tell with certainty that the sound seemed vaguely familiar to him. A sense of déjà vu fluttered under Sasuke’s skin, and he closed his eyes, listening.

“I have told you so many times! I have repeated, drilled it in your stupid head, but you can’t understand anything!”

“Please, don’t…!”

“Shut your mouth!”

Something crashed, banged, and rolled across the floor like broken glass. The voices died down. A soft rustling sound, the creak of a door opening. Sasuke opened his eyes and peered into the moving darkness. He distinctly heard the sound of someone else's footsteps, and sensed a presence. His arms reflexively tensed, stretched out in a defensive stance.

“Sasuke-kun,” Uchiha recognised the soft whisper at the same second – Kabuto was talking to him. “Can’t sleep? Had a nightmare? Maybe you need a sedative brew?”

“No,” Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

 

In the darkness, Kabuto's expression was hard to read, but Sasuke was sure he was smiling. The man was fawning innocently, hiding his own tension. He was about to open his rotten mouth again, but was distracted, as was Sasuke, by a loud thud behind him.

Kabuto couldn't help but hiss when he realized he was about to get caught. Sasuke squinted. A streak of light cut through the thick, butter-like darkness, and the space took on clear outlines.

 

“Sasuke-kun, it would be better for you, if you return to your room,” Kabuto rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, exhaling. ”Orochimaru-sama will be displeased if he finds out you're wandering around the corridors at this hour...”

 

 “Get lost,” the guy replied through clenched teeth, moving forward. By pushing Yakushi aside with his shoulder, Sasuke almost made it to the partially opened door. A sharp smell tickled his nostrils when he was three steps away from his goal. Something smoked, sour and caustic. The aroma of burnt flesh and blood, of an antiseptic solution, broke down the remnants of leisurely slumber.

 ”I said you,” the door slammed in Sasuke’s face. "Go to sleep, Sasuke-kun."

Kabuto exhaled noisily, holding the wooden barrier with his palm. He held on to his mask of ease and forced friendliness with all his might, not wanting to enter into direct confrontation with Uchiha boy. And yet he pressed, ordered... He thought he could speak to that boy like that. Sasuke snorted, surprised by the agility and impudence of Orochimaru's subordinate.

“Sasuke-kun,” the man repeated emphatically. “Go away.”

”Who are you to tell me what to do?” Sasuke’s cold voice was oozing with rage.

Sasuke couldn’t even imagine being poked by someone of kind of doormat, who ready to spread out just to receive praise from his mad master! Maybe Kabuto was expecting from Sasuke a low bow? Never in this or even in next life! Sasuke’s hands were itching of wish to chop with a kunai on others neck. To let the black jaundiced mud of other’s throat out. To suppress the annoying man. To show where the place of the watch dog licking the heels of the sannin belongs.

There was another rustling sound, and Sasuke turned to the door again. Someone was quietly scratching behind the wall, witlessly trying to attract attention. They boy’s hand already reached out to push the other person's interfering palm away from the door plane, but the palm tore itself away from its previous place and clenched into a fist. Kabuto hit the door with force, and the movements behind the wall stopped.

 

“Oh, everything is fine! Just a minor complications with a test subject,” Kabuto raised his voice warningly, emphasizing the last words. ”Nothing special.”

”Why are you doing your tests here and not in the lab? You're keeping me awake.” Sasuke pressed the man with phrase after phrase, crossing his arms arrogantly over his chest. He didn't believe a single word of Orochimaru's henchman.

“Oh, I’m really sorry, Sasuke-kun, I didn't mean to disturb you," Kabuto was genuinely nervous. "It's just that my room is close to yours in case you need help… And I couldn’t get distracted from work, so I continued at here… But I'll take care of it, don't worry. You can go back, it's not worth your attention."

Uchiha chuckled, looking suspiciously at Kabuto. You have to be as dumb as Naruto to fall for this flowery talk. The blond would have definitely scratched his head, nodded, and gone off to sleep. Although, no. He would never have ended up here. And he wouldn't have gotten into this situation.

Memories of Sasuke’s former teammate dug into his throat like sharp claws. The silence suddenly became oppressive, cold and sticky. It entwined his shoulders like a web, knocking out any desire to argue further with the Sannin's henchman. As if everything had become unimportant and petty, irritating.

 

“Who's there?” And yet, Uchiha asked, more out of natural stubbornness than a real desire to know.

Kabuto seemed to flinch. He laughed nervously and adjusted his glasses, judging by the quiet click of the glass.

“A special test subject, ahem… I can’t tell you yet, I need to make sure that the future results are successful. This is important, you know, Sasuke-kun? But if you are interested in the course of the experiment, I will even show you the reports and actual achievements after completing the first stages. I think Orochimaru-sama will approve of your enthusiasm, and I will personally instruct you, tell you about the methods…”

“Shut up,” Sasuke snapped back.

 That's it. Enough. A devastating disgust suddenly rolled over him, taking with it the last crumbs of perseverance and patience. He didn't even want to think about what this worm was doing. Whom he was torturing, and for what purpose. The disgusting feeling of being involved in this kind of mockery was draining the last of his humanity, which was so necessary to avoid becoming a mindless puppet in the hands of his mentor. To avoid becoming a murderer like his brother.

The power Sasuke sought was not a game. He did not need someone else's blood without a reason, just to satisfy his inflated ego. Otherwise, what was the difference between him and Itachi? What was the essence of his choice?

"Good night, Sasuke-kun," a caustic whisper hit Sasuke in the back as he silently turned and headed to his room.

 

I am not like my older brother. I will never be like that.

A lock clicked softly in the distance. The hallway froze, for a moment. Almost nothing remained except the slap of bare feet on cold stone. The boy took another step before freezing, listening to the rumbling echo behind him. A someone’s desperate sob. An animalistic growl, completely different from the ingratiating whisper a few minutes ago. A someone’s strangled cry. And Sasuke noticed it in his mind. He knew who was there. And for some reason, everything inside him shattered into pieces. A disembodied ghost in an orange windbreaker appeared before his eyes. Thick blond eyebrows furrowed angrily.

Yeah, come on, run to bed, you bastard. Cowardly, tucking your kitten’s tail, dattebayo!

 

“Shut up!“

His own fist slammed into the wall, leaving a deep, crooked dent. And it didn't hurt. It didn't feel like it. Not like a girl's scream ringing in the silence. Not like a boy's mocking voice in his ears.

Sasuke closes his eyes and walks away. He doesn't care. None of it matters. And that idiot. And his words. And that disgusting soft half-smile of Kabuto's. And Sakura...

WOOOOW I found another one unfinished art👀

Okey okey, I have REALLY more drawings to finish

By the way, idea of this art was my au! where Sakura leaves village after Sasuke and goes to Orochimaru. There Kabuto became her teacher and this story is very dark. More of violence, drama and Sasuke’s guilt. Sakura, under constant pressure, while training with Kabuto, suffers a severe breakdown of will and character. Not so much a love story, but a reflection on the events surrounding Sasuke and Sakura and how their characters change. And how Naruto experiences the loss of two close friends.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

"consuming media" is such an overstatement. at best I'm sipping it

[missdynamighttt]

i am NOT done yapping about how in love husband! katsuki is with his dear wife.

you were curled up on the couch later that night, katsuki’s arm draped around your shoulders while you scrolled through twitter again. he was half-asleep, head tilted back against the cushions, soft breaths leaving his lips.

just as you were about to close the app, another tweet popped up on your feed— one that made you freeze.

original tweet: "yeah babe gimme a minute, js fighting crime rn"

underneath was a blurry, mid-action shot of katsuki during a recent mission. in one hand, his phone was visible, screen lit up, while his other hand was mid-explosion, sending a villain flying backward.

the kicker? he was grinning at his phone. not his usual battle-hungry, determined smirk. no, this was softer. goofy. a full-blown, lovesick idiot smile.

the kind of smile he only ever gave you.

"oh my god. katsuki," you whispered, shaking his arm. "wake up."

he groaned, cracking one eye open. "what now?"

you shoved the phone in his face. "explain."

he squinted at the screen, brow furrowing. his jaw immediately clenched when he recognized himself in the picture.

meanwhile, twitter had already decided:

- "hero of the year goes to dynamight for texting his wife while fighting crime."

- "bro’s out here fighting for his life and still prioritizing his girl. goals."

- "im jealous. getting a text back while he's FIGHTING VILLAINS IS CRAZYYY"

his mouth opened. closed. then he groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. "shit. didn't think they got that on camera."

"you didn’t think holding your phone in the middle of a fight would get caught on camera?"

"i was multitaskin'!" his ears were bright red.

"oh, for fuck's sake," you huffed, half-frustrated, half-melting into a puddle of affection. "is this why you said 'one sec babe, busy' that one time like you were busy with, oh, i don't know, paperwork instead of fighting a damn villain?"

"i had it under control," he grumbled, running a hand over his face. "was just checkin’ in on you."

"checking in?" you echoed, laughing. "you were literally detonating someone with your other hand!"

he groaned. "s’not my fault. needed to text my girl. s'not a crime."

your heart stuttered. "while fighting villains?"

"yeah, well...ya texted first."

you blinked. "so this is my fault?"

"yeah," he crossed his arms, cheeks turning pink. "maybe if ya didn’t make me smile like a fuckin’ idiot, i wouldn’t get caught slackin’. you seemed excited over something... figured you'd wanna talk."

your heart stopped for a second, warmth flooding through you.

"you’re such a dumbass," you said softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. you leaned up, wrapping your arms around his neck, nuzzling into him. "missed me that much, huh?"

he huffed but didn’t stop you, his arms tightened around you, his embarrassment giving way to quiet satisfaction. "yeah, yeah. always miss you."

and the next time you texted him during work, you made damn sure to add:

"don't text back. fight the damn villains first."

he didn’t listen, obviously.

"they can wait. they know my wife is important."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[dollishmehrayan]

# “WOULD YOU DO ANYTHING FOR ME?, BUY A BIG DIAMOND RING FOR ME?” ── .✦ ( how batboys act when they’re engaged w reader )

dollish note ౨ৎ: I lowkey crashed out over losing Americans on tiktok but this woke up to post on tumblr but hey, also can we talk about how trump used that as a pr stunt && thought we wouldn’t notice wtf like omgg the way many americans caught on, alsoo please leave some motivation for me because I just kinda lost motivation for this app after the tiktok thingy went down 🫠 tags: (batboys x engaged!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Over the moon and not afraid to show it. Dick tells everyone the second you say yes. Alfred? He knows. Random stranger in the grocery store? The metro security guy?, Yep, they know too. He’s got that goofy, lovestruck grin plastered on his face 24/7.

Wedding planning enthusiast. You thought you’d do most of the planning? Wrong. Dick’s fully invested, showing you Pinterest boards of venues, color schemes, and “Do you think Nightwing blue (dollish note: I think ‘#3366CC’ perhaps?) would be tacky for the napkins?”

Gets sappy at random times. You’ll catch him staring at you with a dreamy look, and when you ask why, he just shrugs. “I’m just thinking about how lucky I am.”, “Dick calm down you only proposed like 2 weeks ago.”

Brags to the Batfam constantly. “Guys, I’m going to be a husband! Can you believe it? Me! Richard Grayson!” Bruce pretends to be joyful a bit but he’s done hearing it for the 777x time but even he cracks a small smile when Dick won’t shut up about you.

Practices saying his vows in the mirror. You walked in on him once, and he was mortified. “Okay, but you didn’t hear the good part yet!”, “You literally finished the whole paper !!”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Acts like it’s not a big deal, but it’s huge for him. He’ll play it cool at first, saying something like, “It’s just a ring, babe.” But deep down, he’s nervous, excited, and trying not to let it show.

Keeps the engagement low-key. Jason’s not one for flashy announcements or grand gestures. He wants this to be something special between you two, not the whole world.

Protective x10. Now that you’re officially going to be his spouse, Jason is extra watchful. He’s already looking into ways to keep you safe and makes sure you’re never caught in the crossfire of his vigilante life.

Wants you to be 100% comfortable. He checks in with you constantly about the wedding plans. “We don’t have to do anything big, okay? Just say the word, and it’s done.” He’ll let you take the lead but secretly loves when you include him.

Teases you with the whole “fiancé” thing. “Hey, fiancée. Can you grab my coffee? Oh, did I mention you’re my fiancée now?” It’s his way of hiding how excited he really is.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Nervous wreck but totally in love. Tim overthinks everything after proposing. Did he pick the right ring? Did he say the right words? Is he even ready to be a husband? But every time he sees you smile, it calms him down.

Keeps it practical. Tim doesn’t want a huge engagement party or a grand wedding. He’s more focused on what your future together will look like your shared goals, finances, and making sure you’re both on the same page.

Researches marriage like it’s a mission. He has books on successful relationships, listens to podcasts, and even makes a checklist for wedding planning. You find it adorable when he starts using color coded spreadsheets.

Loves when you call him your fiancé. The first time you said it, he blushed so hard he had to look away. Now he’s low-key obsessed with hearing it. “You don’t have to keep calling me that… but don’t stop either.”

Gets emotional when he thinks about the future. You once caught him staring at the engagement ring on your finger, looking teary-eyed. When you asked what was wrong, he said, “I just can’t believe you’re actually mine.” (I would’ve smacked the shit out of him for that, I don’t do romance 🙄💪)

[lavenders388]

~The Type of Guy~

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ Kang Dae Ho

a/n i kno this gif isnt fully dae ho but its fully my favorite soo

not requested 💌

~⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆Kang Dae Ho is⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆~

the type of guy to make you laugh without even trying! his personality is so genuine and extroverted, anything he says he means it and he says it with his confident enthusiasm! he absolutely brightens up even the darkest of rooms (like in the games) and loves making people happy. this caught your attention at first and stayed your favorite thing, only growing as your love grows ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

the type of guy who vows the moment he meets you to protect you no matter what, this also ties into his confident and strong personality, he knows he deserves respect and so do you, and he's willing to fight for that no matter what<3 in the games he makes sure he's by your side or watching out for you and ensuring your safety. in the mingle game he won't for a second consider splitting up even if the group decides to.

the type of guy whose goal is to give you the life you deserve. if he meets you in the games, his perspective on winning the money totally changes; he decides he wants to pay off his debts and then buy a nice house for the two of you where you can spend the rest of your lives comfortably without the stress of finances. if he already knows you, he 100% joins the games because he believes he needs to be out of debt and moderately wealthy in order to be what you deserve.

the type of guy that is super super clingy to you. he loves you so much and he wants to show it in any way he can- always expect an arm around you from his tall frame, protecting you and reminding you how loved and cared for you are. he loves to cuddle, whether its on the couch watching a show during the day, or in your shared bed at night he wants to be as close to you as possible- not just to show his love for you but to make sure you feel safe and supported; as well as he just wants to hold you!!:3

the type of guy who listens to anything you say big or small, expect to get home and find that thing you briefly mentioned needing/wanting sitting on your bed ~v~

the type of guy who supports you no matter what! want to quit your job and look for a new one? he's already asked for more hours at his! want to go to uni? he's packing your lunch! want to do something out of your comfort zone? he's already cheering!

the type of guy who encourages you to have your own independence. he is absolutely in love with you having your own hobbies and things you enjoy doing! as well as he supports if you want some alone time or to be with your friends as well!

the type of guy who is the best partner ever (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　5 TIMES CHRIS AND Y/N WERE CAUGHT KISSING

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where a fan creates a 5-minute video with all the times that Chris and Y/N were caught kissing.

WARNING: Making-out.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Chris and Y/N sat side by side on the plush couch in the living room. They were half-watching a movie that had been playing for the past hour, but neither of them was truly invested. Chris's arm was draped lazily around Y/N's shoulders, his thumb drawing idle circles on her upper arm. It was one of those rare, peaceful evenings where they could just relax and enjoy each other's company, without the usual hustle and bustle of filming or the pressure of content creation hanging over Chris head.

Y/N was scrolling through her TikTok, a small smile playing on her lips as she came across fan edits and posts dedicated to Chris and his brothers. Her fingers stopped suddenly, her eyes widening as she stopped on a video with the caption: "Top 5 Times Chris and Y/N Were Caught Kissing in the Background." She let out a small laugh, nudging Chris's shoulder to get his attention.

"Baby, look at this." She muttered, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and shyness. She turned the phone screen towards him, and his brows shot up in surprise as he read the title.

"Are you serious?" He asked, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned closer to get a better view. "I didn't even know we were caught that many times."

Y/N pressed play, and the screen lit up with the fan edit.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

1. Baking Blind, Deaf and Mute. (Two Times)

The first clip was from a Baking Blind, Deaf, and Mute challenge, recorded when the triplets had visited their parents in Boston for their birthday.

The video opened with Nick standing in the foreground with Matt by his side, leaning casually on the marble table, his hands gesturing animatedly as he explained how that video would be with the participation of Y/N. His voice was filled with that signature mix of enthusiasm and sarcasm as usual.

As Nick continued to lay out the idea, the camera caught slightly Chris and Y/N in the background, standing by the fridge. Chris was holding a spatula in the air like a sword while staring at Y/N, trying to look serious but failing miserably as a playful grin tugged at his lips.

Next to him, Y/N was meticulously reading the ingredients list, ignoring his playful manner successfully, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to memorize the steps, fully aware that she wouldn’t be able to see anything in a few minutes.

The atmosphere was light and filled with anticipation, the kind that comes with knowing things were about to descend into playful chaos. Matt and Nick were already debating loudly over what constituted a valid ingredient while picking the necessary ones from the cabinets, their voices a blend of mock seriousness and barely-contained laughter.

But then, probably with the hope of being hidden behind his brothers' back, Chris leaned closer to Y/N, his shoulder brushing against hers. The gesture was subtle, almost as if he were seeking her out in the midst of the noise, a quiet connection just for them. Y/N looked up from the list, her eyes meeting his, and a soft laugh escaped her, the sound so gentle that the camera barely picked it up.

Listening to his favorite sound, Chris, with his eyes sparkling with mischief, turned fully toward Y/N. He leaned in, whispering something in her ear that drew another quiet laugh from her - just like his goal -, her smile wide and genuine, the kind that made her eyes crinkle at the corners.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Chris dipped his head and pressed a quick, tender kiss to her lips. It was brief, a mere brush of lips, but the affection behind it was palpable. Y/N’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she ducked her head, pretending to be engrossed in the ingredients list once more, though the small, secretive smile playing at her lips betrayed her.

Meanwhile, Matt started trying to talk to the camera, his voice raised to make sure the viewers could hear him over Nick's teasing.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

2. DTI

The second clip was from a particularly memorable livestream that Matt and Chris had done from Matt’s room. They had recently started playing a game called Dress to Impress, and after recording a small video for their YouTube channel where they played the game for the first time, it quickly became their newest obsession.

Y/N had been hanging out in the room during the stream, perched comfortably on Nick's chair off-camera. Although she wasn’t actively participating in the game, her presence was felt in subtle ways; every now and then, a hand would appear on the edge of the screen, holding out a bottle of water, an energy drink or a bowl of snacks for the boys. Each time, Chris would glance away from the screen just long enough to offer her a grateful smile or a quick thank you before returning to the chaos on Matt's monitor.

On this particular moment, the livestream had taken an amusing turn. Matt was deeply engrossed in a competition against another player who had, to his disbelief, apparently copied his entire outfit design. His face was a mix of shock and indignation, his voice rising with every word as he expressed his frustration.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh loudly. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he listened to his brother’s angry words, his eyes focused on the screen.

It was in this moment that Y/N leaned forward, her face suddenly appearing in the corner of the camera. She moved quietly, almost as if she was sneaking up on Chris, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She leaned in close to him, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered softly - something about 'knowing that Matt would win either way, since he - Chris - was the creative mind who helped creating the outfit'.

Chris’s reaction was immediate. The playful grin he had been wearing just moments before softened into something warmer, more affectionate. He turned his head slightly, meeting Y/N’s gaze with a look that was full of amusement. Without a second thought, he leaned in, catching her lips in a quick, sweet kiss. The kiss was fleeting, lasting only a second before Y/N pulled back, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush as she disappeared back into the background.

The moment was so brief that it could have easily gone unnoticed, especially with Matt’s voice still rising as he ranted about the blatant theft of his outfit. But their fans were nothing if not observant. The chat lit up almost instantly, viewers flooding the comments with a mixture of excitement and teasing.

Despite his attempts to play it cool, Chris couldn’t help the faint blush that crept up his cheeks. The tips of his ears turned pink as he tried to brush off the attention, focusing back on the game with a slightly embarrassed laugh.

"Alright, alright, focus on Matt, not me." He said, trying to redirect the conversation, though his smile never wavered.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

3. Fortnite Late Night

The third clip captured a moment during one of Matt and Chris's late-night gaming streams, "Fortnite Late Night." Each brother was in his own bedroom, Chris’s camera angled perfectly to frame his upper body, revealing a glimpse of his bed in the background, the soft light from his monitor casting a cool, blue glow over the room.

Meanwhile, Y/N had been upstairs, finishing up in the kitchen. The quiet house amplified the sound of her soft footsteps as she went to the stairs, heading towards the room she shared with Chris.

When Y/N reached the end of the steps and stepped into their bedroom, she found Chris completely engrossed in the game. His posture was tense, shoulders slightly hunched forward, eyes fixed on the screen with an intense concentration. The dim lighting highlighted his features - his lips were slightly parted, pink and plump, forming a small, unintentional pout, and his dark brown eyebrows were knitted together in focus.

He didn’t notice her at first, his mind fully absorbed in the game, but Y/N couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked in his concentrated state.

She was ready to crawl into bed, exhausted from the day, but there was one thing she had to do before she could even think about sleep. It was a nightly ritual at this point. No matter how tired she was, Y/N couldn’t fall asleep without saying goodnight to Chris.

Moving with sleepy steps, she walked over to where he sat. Chris didn’t need to look up to know she was there; he could sense her presence. As she leaned over the back of his chair, he could feel the soft brush of her hair against his neck, a comforting sensation that made him momentarily forget about the game.

"Goodnight, honey." Y/N whispered softly, her voice low and gentle, meant only for his ears. But her words, though quiet, were picked up by his sensitive microphone, echoing faintly through the livestream, reaching the ears of the hundreds of fans watching.

Without hesitation, and without any regard for the live audience, Chris tilted his head back, silently asking for his goodnight kiss. It was an instinctual, almost automatic gesture. Y/N, smiling at his adorable demand, obliged him, leaning down to press her lips against his in a tender, familiar kiss.

The angle was a bit awkward, the kiss upside down, but it didn’t matter, it was soft and unhurried.

On the other end of the game, Matt was fully aware of what had just happened. The sudden silence from Chris’s side was enough of a giveaway, and when he glanced at the small preview screen showing Chris’s camera, he saw it all. Matt smirked but kept his eyes on the game, unfazed by the interruption - he had grown used to these moments.

"Dude." Matt finally spoke up after Y/N’s figure disappeared behind Chris’s back, his tone dripping with teasing exasperation. "Can’t you keep your PDA for when we’re not live?"

Chris didn’t even flinch. With a lazy grin spreading across his face, he shrugged, entirely unapologetic.

"Sorry, couldn’t help it." He replied, his voice light and carefree. The grin on his face said it all - he wasn’t sorry at all.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

4. hello world

It had been a late-night gaming session - again -, one of those times when Chris and Matt were fully immersed in it, talking to fans while navigating through Dress to Impress. The energy in Chris’s room was electric, with his monitors casting a blue glow that bathed everything in a dim light. His headset was on, and he was deeply focused, his eyes glued to the screen.

But the concentration was constantly broken by Chris’s rumbling stomach and the string of complaints that followed.

"Ugh, I’m so hungry." He groaned into the mic, making a face. "Seriously, I could eat a whole pizza right now."

Matt laughed on the other end of the line, his voice crackling through the headphones.

"Dude, we just had dinner like three hours ago."

"Yeah, and?" Chris shot back, pausing for a second to take a sip of his energy drink. "That was hours ago. I’m starving. Hey chat, send food!" He laughed at his own joke, glancing over at the live comments.

Little did Chris know, Y/N was watching the livestream from the living room. She’d been lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone, when she heard his complaints. A smile spread across her face as an idea formed in her mind. She knew Chris’s favorite takeout place just down the street and decided to surprise him.

She slipped on a pair of sneakers, grabbed her keys, and headed out. The whole trip took barely fifteen minutes. When she returned, the aroma of Chris’s favorite meal wafted through the bag she was carrying, and she made her way quietly up the stairs to their room.

Chris was still completely absorbed in his game, his back to the door. He didn’t notice when she slipped in, the door clicking softly behind her. Y/N could hear him talking to his brother, still complaining about his hunger, completely oblivious to her presence.

She smiled to herself, holding back a giggle as she crept closer. She set the bag down on his desk next to his keyboard, the movement catching his attention. Chris looked up, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw Y/N standing there, holding out the takeout bag with a grin.

"Hey." She whispered, leaning in close so the mic wouldn’t pick up her voice - unsuccessfully. "I heard you were hungry."

Chris’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. He pulled off his headset, letting it hang around his neck, and stretched out his arms to catch the bag from her.

"Oh my God, you’re the best." He said, his voice low and filled with genuine affection. He opened the bag, inhaling deeply, and let out a content sigh. "You got my favorite!"

Y/N nodded, her smile growing wider.

"I know you too well."

Without another word, Chris set the bag down and reached out, pulling Y/N into his arms, forcing her to bent her upper body. He didn’t care that the stream was still going or that his brother and the fans were waiting. In that moment, all he could think about was how thoughtful and sweet she was. He tilted his head up, capturing her lips in a deep, grateful kiss.

Y/N kissed him back, her hands resting on his thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his sweatpants.

It wasn’t until they broke apart that Chris remembered they were still live. He glanced over at his screen, the chat scrolling so fast it was a blur, and he could see the comments exploding.

Chris laughed, picking up his headset and sliding it back on.

"Sorry, guys." He said into the mic, a huge grin on his face. "Got a little distracted there. Y/N just brought me food, so, uh, I’m gonna eat while we keep playing."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

5. We became dad's for 24 hours!!! (to eggs)

The last clip was one of a quiet, intimate moment captured during one of the boys' more absurd challenges: taking care of an egg as if it were their own child for 24 hours.

It was the middle of the early morning, the clock barely ticking past 3 AM, when the sound of three simultaneous alarms pierced the stillness of the house. The sharp, grating beeps echoed through the rooms, signaling that it was time for them to wake up and "feed" their eggs.

The absurdity of the situation was only amplified by the ungodly hour, the boys' groggy voices muttering incoherently as they stumbled around, trying to remember where they had left their fragile "children".

Y/N, who had been curled up in bed, still wrapped in the warmth of sleep, found herself jolted awake by the noise. Her eyelids were heavy, barely lifting as she pushed herself up from the bed.

Dressed in one of Chris's oversized T-shirt that hung loosely over her frame and a pair of soft pajama shorts, she looked the very picture of someone who had been dragged from sleep far too early. Her hair was tousled, a wild halo around her face, and her eyes were half-closed as she shuffled out of the room.

She used the commotion as an excuse to get a drink of water, her feet moving on autopilot as she padded quietly into the kitchen. The house was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the moon filtering through the big window and the faint blue light of the fridge as she pulled it open.

The boys’ sleepy voices floated to her from the living room, muffled but distinct, each of them trying to outdo the other in their groggy banter about their "kids".

Chris was sprawled out on the couch in the living room, his body sinking into the cushions, looking cozy yet disheveled. His legs were stretched out, feet propped up on the coffee table, and his head was tilted back, his eyes blinking slowly as he tried to stay awake. He was mumbling something about the challenge, his words barely coherent.

Y/N, still in her sleepy haze, wandered toward them, her footsteps soft against the hardwood floor. The coolness of the water bottle in her hand provided a small comfort as she made her way toward Chris, passing by Matt’s legs, narrowly avoiding his outstretched foot, and maneuvered around the coffee table until she stood in front of her boyfriend.

Chris’s gaze followed her movements, his tired eyes lighting up slightly as he watched her approach. His arms opened wide, almost instinctively, inviting her into his embrace without needing to say a word. There was a small, sleepy smile on his lips, one that matched the one Y/N gave him as she stepped closer. The moment was quiet, almost dreamlike, the world around them fading into the background as she climbed over his legs and nestled into his lap.

She settled herself against him, her legs folded up on the couch as her body molded against his. The right side of her body pressed against his chest, and she could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath her. Her head found its place on his shoulder, her nose nuzzling gently against the exposed skin of his neck.

Chris’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, causing Y/N to smile against his neck, feeling the warmth of his breath on her skin, and she tilted her head back just enough to look up at him.

Almost automatically, Chris leaned down again, their lips meeting in a soft, lazy kiss. It was gentle, a mere brush of lips, but it was enough to make Y/N’s heart flutter.

When they pulled back, Y/N let out a small sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she nestled back into the curve of his neck. Chris held her close, his hand resting on her back, his thumb stroking gently up and down in a soothing rhythm, letting his brothers finish what they wanted to say before going to bed again.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The video ended, and Y/N hit pause before it replayed again by itself, looking up at Chris, who was leaning back with a satisfied smile.

"Wow." She started, dragging out the word. "Look at you, Mister Romantic."

Chris shrugged, unabashed.

"What can I say? When you've got a girlfriend as amazing as you, you just... can't help yourself."

Y/N, sitting up and adjusting her position, rolled her eyes but smiled, her cheeks tinged pink.

"You’re such a dork." She muttered, but there was affection in her voice.

"And you love it." Chris shot back, leaning down, pressing a kiss to her temple, and Y/N couldn't help but smile, leaning into his touch.

"I really do."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

extra - comments:

"this compilation was the perfect one to prove what the boys said about chris being the only one who would make-out with his girlfriend in front of everyone 😭"

"stop, the way chris looks at Y/N in every clip???? ugh, I NEED this 😩"

"forget the baking, chris and Y/N's little kiss right there? too cute omg"

"okay but that livestream moment when Y/N brings chris food 😭 she's so thoughtful and caring ;(("

"chris and Y/N in the background just being all lovey-dovey while matt and nick are doing their thing is EVERYTHING!!! they’re so in love it hurts 🥺"

"honestly, I’m all here for how they’re always caught kissing like they forget the cameras are on 😞"

"chris couldn't even focus on the game anymore after Y/N kissed him LMAOOO, he's down bad, guys"

"STOP IT RIGHT NOW!! Y/N laying on chris lap while they do their thing with their eggs omg 🤧🤧 they're so precious"

[wonderlandcrown]

𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑀𝑦 𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑒

𝑉𝑖𝑙 𝑥 𝑌𝑢𝑢(𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟)

a/n : book 5 spoilers, also Vil didn't know Jamil overbloted until book 6. reader is gn and referred to as "Yuu, the prefect, you, they/them pronouns"

genre : light angst, romance(pining)

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛💜♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

Someday my prince will come Someday I'll find my love And how thrilling that moment will be When the prince of my dreams comes to me He'll whisper, "I love you" And steal a kiss or two Though he's far away I'll find my love someday Someday when my dreams come true

Vil was reluctant to stay in Ramshackle during VDC, "A messy room equals a messy mind", is what he tells his dorm mates. Though he understood that the prefect didn't choose to stay there, Vil Schoenheit was never a fan of unclean spaces.

But Vil had bigger problems at the moment, Neige will undoubtedly show up for the competition, and his dream- no, his goal will be in jeopardy.

The headmage did say that the prefect was quite talented in bringing people together...

Fine then, if staying in a dingy dorm means having a chance at winning against Neige, he'll do it.

"How thrilling, " Vil thought, "will my moment of victory be."

Someday I'll find my love Someone to call my own And I'll know him the moment we meet For my heart will start skipping a beat Some day we'll say, "I do" Things we've been longing to Though he's far away I'll find my love someday Someday when my dreams come true

Vil noticed the scars around the prefects hands, undoubtedly the result of going through no less than 3 overblots, not to mention all of them happened under a year!

Vil scoffs, Crowley must be more incompetent than he thought if he allowed a poor defenseless student to get caught up in so much trouble; or is it Yuu who is careless?

He originally saw you akin to something like a pathetic wet cat : lost, clueless, naive.

Though he'll admit he was quite wrong, your occasional sharp jabs towards the trio of potatoes(Ace, Deuce and Grim) didn't go unnoticed by Vil. He thinks you're quite funny, you act so brazenly and sarcastic around your friends but around strangers you suddenly become quiet and well spoken, you remind him of the difference of his personalities on camera and off.

Though that's the only thing he and you have in common.

Vil remembers perfectly well the glare Yuu shot at him when he cursed the delicacies Trey gifted the younger spudlings. It was a necessary measure! You're smarter than your friends, you should understand that they would've tried to break away from the diet Vil gave them.

Vil doesn't understand, he doesn't understand those potatoes, didn't they agree to this? Don't they want to win? If they do they should listen to him, he knows what's best, he's been trained for countless competitions since he was young, these diets, these restrictions have been imposed onto him ever since then and they will be forevermore.

For them, it'll only be a moment before they're back to their normal lives, so why can't they understand? Vil understood ever since he was young, so why can't they?

He's been longing for the chance to stay on stage until the very last moment, so why can't Yuu just do what he says and help those idiots cooperate with him.

Vil pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, he shouldn't dwell on unnecessary things for too long, lest he stray from his goal.

Somewhere waiting for me There is someone I'm longing to see Someone I simply can't help but adore Someone who'll thrill me forever

"Hey, uh, can we discuss something? "

It was already late afternoon, Epel had screamed at Vil and ran away from the dorm and one of your friends, Deuce, he remembers, ran after him. But they haven't been back.

He lets out a sigh, not bothering to hide his frustration.

"What is it?" Vil turns to face you, usually during the breaks between the VDC groups training, you pass around water bottles and some snacks(not cursed by Vil this time). Though this time you carry nothing, it's expected, the rest of the group only have a break because two of the members ran off to who knows where.

"I think you're being too harsh on them. " Vil scoffs, "Excuse me? They're the ones being too careless, they're not serious enough. " Vil glares at you, nose scrunched. You betray his expectations, really, he expected you to be more mature about this.

You only look at him in the eyes as a response, he notices your tense frame, you must've been planning to tell him this for a while now.

"..Epel ran away." Vil lifts an eyebrow, "And? Are you just here to state the obvious?" He hears you click your tongue, you're irritated with him? Why must you be so mean to him, prefect, all he wants is to win, is that so much to ask for?

"Look, I understand your efforts, what you do to achieve your dreams is commendable, really, "

Dreams? How dare you use such a childish word, the Vil Schoenheit doesn't dream, he has no time for that.

"but you need to realize that not everyone can handle, well, you. We want to win, obviously but uh, you're already so accustomed to this type of stuff but we're not.."

Hm? Oh, prefect, you're flattering him, so you're saying that he's so glamorous to the point that the normal spudlings can't even begin to compare?... Vil's kidding obviously, but the compliment has made him more inclined to listen to you.

"Dear prefect, I may see your point.. Though you must realize that diamonds are created under pressure, and the headmage has been far too lenient." You sigh, brows furrowed, "Tell me about it.. Again, you're not wrong, there are limits. Even the seemingly strong gems can crack if they have internal flaws."

My, isn't this new.. Prefect, it's been quite the long time since someone dared to question him, in such an interesting way no less.. Most people either agree with no objections or slander his views vehemently (Rook and Epel, Vil's looking at you) Congratulations are in order for managing to intrigue Vil of all people.

You're confused on why Vil's smiling, so.. fondly at you, did you do something wrong?

"Prefect, if you don't mind, how do you feel about joining my nightly routine tomorrow, I think you have many interesting topics to share with me."

Someday my prince will come Someday I will find the one Though he's far away he'll find my love someday Someday when my dreams come true Oh, please make my dreams come true

"The winner of VDC is.. ROYAL SWORD ACADEMY, LED BY THE ONE AND ONLY NEIGE LEBLANCHE!"

The crowd cheers endlessly, Vil feels his heart grow heavy with that same, twisting, horrendously ugly feeling of envy. His feet feel like they're on fire and Vil has to pretend the camera flashes are irritating him in order to blink back the tears.

It's ok, it's fine, the loser has to fall and Vil feels like he's been plummeting since then, now, and perhaps forevermore.(please don't let it be so)

It's even worse when Neige pulls him into an encore, his hand pressing on one of the bruises on his arm, a scar gained from his overblot. But Vil's heart only winces when he thinks of you, he thinks of your scars, you must have so many, you've been through so much..

Vil is so, so sorry, he wants to cry and beg for your forgiveness, for Rook's, for Epel's, for everyone's forgiveness. What he did was so stupidly immature, how could he just betray his own expectations, everyone expected Vil Schoenheit to be level headed, mature, and beautiful. So why? Why must he be everything except that?

Everything after his overblot was a blur, really. He thought his career would go up on smoke, everything he worked for would've been gone. Vil stared at his phone, waiting for a ping from his manager, informing him that his overblot, his weakest moment, was leaked for the whole world to see. Vil sits at the vanity, normally he would be staring into his reflection, but now he can't even bear the thought of looking at the mirror.

Suddenly he was met with a knock on his door.

"I'm not expecting visitors, if it's not urgent then go find Rook, or the prefect."

"Vil, I am the prefect."

Vil immediately sits up right, brushing away the few strands of stray hair, before inviting you in. "Come on in."

You quickly slip inside his room, closing the door behind you with a click, Vil tilts his head, usually he would never do this, unbefitting of the mature image of Vil Schoenheit, but since it's you, he finds himself at ease without putting on his performative mask. "I see you want privacy, is it personal?"

"Yeah, I.. wanted to see how you're doing. " Vil doesn't hold back the bittersweet smile, "You really are kind, don't worry about me, you should've ran away when you saw me overblot, why didn't you?"

Why didn't you? You should've ran away the moment you saw blot dripping from his lips and eyes, yet you stayed, you stayed during his overblot and all the others. Vil wants to know, how is one person so caring yet sarcastic, so plain yet so interesting, so normal yet.. Vil feels like he's never met someone like you before.

"Why didn't I? What kind of question is that, the better question is how could I leave a friend during his weakest moments?"

See? Caring yet sarcastic, Vil giggles at your response, "You should know when to stop helping people, dear. One day you'll get irreversibly wounded and there's nothing I could do to help you at that point." Vil's tone is light, though he feels an aching sensation when he imagines a fatally wounded Yuu.

You sigh, taking a step closer to Vil, "I'm not that weak, so don't think of stuff like that." The housewarden of Pomefiore only gives a tired smile, plain yet so interesting, he thinks. You're a magicless being somehow willed with such tenacity that befits the values of the Beautiful Queen, Vil might be inclined to take a few lessons from you.

It takes a while before Vil notices you're staring at him, you look at him as if you were looking at a poor, caged animal. "..Is there something else you want to tell me?" You don't respond, you only continue to look at him, at his clothes, at his hair, then you stare at him in the eye.

Vil feels a lump form in his throat, you're looking at him in such a humane way, not the lovesick expressions usually adorned on his fans, not the scowls of jealousy from the haters. You look at him as if you see something beyond the masks he wears.

Unlike what most people think, Vil Schoenheit actually has two masks, one he adorns when the camera rolls, which from there he has many others to choose from. The second he wears to retain the strict and regal image of Pomefiore, the one who rules this dorm with an iron fist, where he is both hated and loved.(not that much different from his career)

But you, you're looking at none of the two, he never saw anyone else other than his own father and Rook wear this expression. Someone who sees beyond what is presented to them.

"You're tired." Vil finally hears you say something, "I'll go draw you a bath." Your words were authoritative and left no room for arguement, it reminds Vil of himself. As the actor watches you walk into his bathroom he feels a warm sensation course through him, it's been quite the long time since he was the one on the receiving end of these affections.

No, affections is too intimate a word, but Vil can't think of any other way to describe it.

You can't see his expression now, prefect, but do know that you made Vil Schoenheit of all people cover his face to hide his blush and smile. So normal yet Vil's never met anyone else like you.

Vil hears the sound of water flowing coming from the bathroom, he hopes you finish your task soon, Vil has never felt what yearning for another's presence was like until now.

Vil already has his hunter and poison apple, so tell him what you'll be? What role will you take on to complete the Beautiful Queen's camaraderie? Will you be his raven, dutiful, working from the shadows; or his mirror : showing him what you see, beyond what Vil presents himself to be.

Vil shall wait for your answer, prefect.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬

a/n : someday my prefect will come - vil schoenheit. first fanfic tbh, there were pacing issues but I don't think it's that bad for a first timer. reblogs are appreciated

edit : chapter 2(not a continuation of this) is out now, go on my blog and search the tag "the songs of love", also you can tell me in the reblogs or comments if you wanna be tagged for chapter 3

[cheesecakeluver]

My love… i need a tooth-rotting sweet fluffy hamzah fic… ONE WHERE IM SMOTHERING HIM WITH SMOOCHES >0< !!

(You deserve the biggest smooch tho MWAH)

I THINK WE COULD DO IT IF WE TRIED

Hamzahthefantastic x reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Waking up on the morning after an argument, you and Hamzah talk it out, understanding each other , and reconnecting.

disclaimer: i didn’t really listen to this request… sorry @evilslushy! i get caught up with writing that i forget the end goal.

———————-

Morning light filters through the blinds, as birds chirp outside, and the soft fall of rain patters at window.

Tossing and turning, my mind is misty, representing the weather outside. Flashes of voices, words being ridiculed, and an empty feeling feel in my head, as my thoughts recall the events of last night.

I don’t particularly want to acknowledge last nights mishaps, but i have to. That’s the gift with humans. Remembrance.

Unwillingly, my eyes open to the sounds of the plastic curtains knocking the window, and the foggy grey light floods the room, engulfing me, and who i know to be Hamzah, in it.

I yawn, stretching my arms far above my head as i glance at him, cleaning the room of its mess.

Last night, things had gotten heated. Harsh words were spilt, and items had been scattered. Never in my relationship had i seen Hamzah so enraged, and it was new to me.

I wipe the sleep from my eyes as i stumble out of bed, quickly sliding my slippers on, and making my way to the kitchen, leaving Hamzah behind without a word.

I didn’t mean to be cold towards the man i loved. I just needed to hear those two words escape from his mouth, and to understand that he really meant them. After that, i knew i’d crumble back into his arms, regardless of whether i wanted to or not.

But i would always want to, and i had come to terms with that. I appreciated that. How even through tough times i would always know i had him, and i wasn’t going to lose him.

Begrudgingly, i swung open the cupboards, grabbing the cereal boxes from the top shelf clumsily. Without Hamzah to aid me, it was harder. Another sign i needed him. Another sign i wanted him.

Spilling some of the cereal, i carefully pour two bowls, splashing milk accidentally when plopping the spoons in.

I debated leaving the bowl for Hamzah to find, or giving it to him straight up, but decided on the latter.

Slowly but surely, i made my way to our room, careful not to degrade our hallway as i did our kitchen.

Peeking through the opened door, i saw Hamzah sitting on our bed, motionless. He appeared drained, no colour flushing his cheeks as he lay back against the head frame, his demeanour growing more and more melancholy as i intruded quietly, without him knowing.

At this point i’ve had enough, and can’t take any more of his sorrow, entering the room and placing the bowl on his nightstand. I don’t utter a word, yet i gently fall in place beside him, watching his every movement. The way his chest rises and falls, and how his curls tumble into his eyes.

He seems to have acknowledged my actions, yet doesn’t say a word, making a small sliver of my heart break. I decide that if i want things to get fixed, i’d have to make the first move.

“Hamzah?…” i question warily, unsure of how he’d react.

His eyes flutter open, immediately directed to mine as he nods, as if to tell me to continue.

I sigh, my hands laying idle in my lap, cereal forgotten.

“I just wanted to ask how you were feeling.. about last night” i wince at my words, the argument still fresh in my mind, and a touchy subject.

He tenses slightly, shifting uncomfortably as his eyes depart from mine and to the condensation covered window.

Finally, he speaks, catching me off guard slightly.

“I want to apologise..” he mutters, words trailing off.

How i wish he would look at me, to stare into my eyes and understand everything i was feeling, and every thought rushing through my head.

“I know that things got heated, and i said some…”

“You did.” i reply, colder and sharper than intended. He spoke of things i would never image, calling me all sorts of names for what seemed to be a idiotic reason.

At least he understood he was acting like an ass.

He sighs, running his hand through his hair as he finally turns to look at me. His eyes pierce mine strikingly, as if he’s seeing my soul, my aura, my spirit when he looks at me.

he awkwardly slides himself over to me, looking at me for approval for his next action.

I would always give in to him, and his sweet, doe like eyes that will always entrance me.

I nod slowly, slightly unsure of whatever he would do next.

He shifts himself downwards, legs hanging off of the bed as he places his head on my stomach, and arms around my waist. I feel the man melt into me, as though we were one.

I don’t do anything, but breathe. I don’t believe that even if i had the chance to do something, that i would.

Seeing him, so idyllic, giving into me.

It was a side of vulnerability that i had yet to encounter.

“mh so sorry..” he muffled into me, and all i can do is nod, my fingers intertwined with his curls.

i sigh, relaxing my body fully as he lay atop me.

“it will be okay hamzah” i whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple, a small smile growing across his face.

it will be okay.

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - perfect match

a/n: watch me suddenly appear out of nowhere after the school year has finally ended to post something!! i'm sure absolutely no one is surprised that tsukishima is the centre of this fic, but tbh idk how to feel about it (it's definitely longer than my usual ones but i didn't proofread it, so idk if the lenght is an advantage or not) but i hope you'll like it ^^ with school being over for the next two months i'll finally have time to write, so expect more works soon!!

summary: you and tsukishima decide to help your friends get together, but the plan is long forgotten when you realize what your own feelings are.

warnings: nothing really, canon yamayachi (my loves), some light swearing, bad writing

tsukishima kei did not expect any of his friends to bother him in the middle of the night. hell, he didn't even expect any of them to disturb his alone time at all. and yet at exactly 2.34 in the morning, right as he was about to turn off his currently binge watched tv show and go to sleep, he felt his phone buzzing on the nightstand. 

his eyes focused on your name, written in white font on his phone screen, surely shocked by the sight.

'why are you calling me at 2 in the goddamn morni-'

'is yamaguchi interested in anyone?'

your question caught him off-guard even more than the call itself, his brows furrowing in a weirded-out look. 

'if you're asking for yourself, i'm positive that he is not interested.' 

tsukishima heard a sigh of annoyance on the other side of the call and could only imagine the exact look on your face in this very moment. 

'well, thank god, because i'm not asking for myself.' you said. there were muffled sounds of someone preparing food in the background. 'i'm asking for yachi.'

the blonde boy smiled unconsciously.

'he does like her.' the boy stated, turning off his laptop as he put it back on the desk. 'so much so, in fact, that it can be kind of annoying sometimes.'

you squealed with excitement, a giggle leaving your mouth at tsukishima's remark. 

'perfect! now, listen carefully.'

that singular phone call created an alliance between you and kei. an alliance with only one goal; getting your two best friends to finally confess to each other. to both of you, it was almost infuriating how blind they were; how they didn't notice just how obvious it was that they both shared the same feeling. constant blushing at as little as a mention of the other's name, the stolen glances, the very obvious pining - all of it seemed to be non-existent in the eyes of both yamaguchi and yachi.

but lucky for them, you had a plan.

his eyes lingered on you for a few seconds, as if awaiting a sign from you. tsukishima still thought of your 'master plan' as rather silly, but seeing the determination on your face, and the frown that appeared when he called your idea stupid was enough for him to sigh and go with it this once.

the four of you were currently occupied with studying for a math test coming up next week, everyone nose deep in their notebooks. well, everyone except for kei.

the boy cleared his throat almost theatrically, drawing the attention of the three of you.

'yamaguchi, i think i'll have to pass on the movies this weekend.' he said, the tone of his voice as lifeless as ever. 'akiteru insisted that i go to one of his games, so i guess you'll have to take someone else.'

the freckled boy looked a little troubled upon hearing the information. both you and tsukishima were well aware that the tickets to the cinema were already paid for; yamaguchi would definitely be sad if it all went to waste. 

'well, i guess i can ask hina-'

'yachi, didn't you tell me last week that you wanted to go to the movies with someone?' you barged in before the boy could even finish his sentence, your friend freezing in her spot at the mention of a conversation you had not that long ago, cheeks flushed pink at the mere thought of going somewhere with yamaguchi one-on-one. 'maybe you'd fill in for tsukki?' 

the girl glanced at you, panic in her eyes as an awkward silence filled the room, everyone waiting for her to answer. you gave her an encouraging smile, as if trying to non-verbally tell her to go for it, to use this as a chance to get closer to the boy she liked for so long. 

'if yamaguchi doesn't mind...' she mumbled quietly, head turning to face the boy who was already shaking his head. 

'of course i don't.' yamaguchi smiled, his small dimples showing up in the process. 

you glanced over to look at tsukishima, a triumphant smile on your face as if you just won a volleyball tournament. his hair was slightly messy, and his glasses were sliding off his nose, two of the top buttons on his school uniform unbuttoned, showing a bit of his collarbones. surprisingly enough, the blonde boy smiled back; a small, quick smile that your eyes barely noticed. you had no idea what it was, but something about that singular smile made your heart beat faster. 

don't. the main focus of this entire thing is to get yachi and yamaguchi together. not to think of tsukishima and how attractive he looks- 

shit.

developing a crush on tsukishima kei was certainly not part of your plan. 

at first, you tried ignoring it as much as you could, focusing solely on your friends and getting them to date. as time went on and yamaguchi and yachi started getting closer, you almost felt a sense of relief - you could finally stop spending so much time around tsukishima, which made your chances of getting over your stupid crush higher. 

but it wasn't as easy as you thought. tsukishima was intelligent, pretty, and his snarky remarks and judgy personality actually drew you to him even more with each passing day. through the countless conversations and numerous phone calls, he proved himself to be more than just a salty, mean guy that everyone viewed him as.

'soon enough, they won't even need our help.' you mumbled to yourself as you opened your bento box, a smile on your face as you noticed your mom homemade onigiri inside. 'i don't know what i'll do with myself then.'

tsukishima scoffed, closing the textbook in front of him.

'maybe start focusing on your own love life for once.'

'hey! it's not my fault that i'm a good friend.' you stated, mouth full of food, as you looked up at your friend sitting on the opposite side of the table, looking through the tasks assigned for next week. 'besides, it's not like i'm the only one.'

tsukishima adjusted his glasses, looking up at you for a mere second before focusing back on his notebook.

'touché.'

'oh, come on.' you whined out, dissatisfied with the lack of response from the blonde boy. 'you won't miss this even a little bit?'

alright, maybe just a bit-

'no.' tsukishima stated firmly, fixing his posture as he highlighted one of the important sentences written down. you heard a bit of hesitation in his voice, and the few seconds of silence before hearing an answer couldn't help but make you wonder. you decided to ignore it this time - he was focused on something else right now, there was no need to disturb him. 

'do you think yachi will like my outfit?'

tsukishima was sitting at the edge of his best friend's bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and occasionally looking up to see the twelfth - no, thirteenth shirt that yamaguchi has tried on already. the boy sighed, turning his device off. 

'it's your first official date, i'm sure she doesn't mind what you wear.' he stated, gaining a frown from yamaguchi.

'you didn't answer my question.'

'alright, i think she'll like it.' the blonde haired boy said, reaching out for a bag of chips, opening it with a loud sound. 'but i'm sure she'll focus more on the date itself rather than what you're wearing.'

ever since announcing to their friends that they're going on their first official date, both yamaguchi and yachi were full of stress, constantly overthinking every little detail from their outfit to whether or not the date will go well or not. tsukishima found it rather comical - it was only a date after all. why stress over it so much? he never went on one, obviously, but he always thought that when the day came, he'd approach it calmly.

'do you have any tips on how to not freak out?' yamaguchi asked suddenly, catching his friend off-guard. 'during the date, i mean.'

'how can i know? i've never gone on one.'

the freckled boy looked at tsukishima, a confused expression on his face as he processed his words.

'oh.' he paused for a second, his voice quieter when he continued speaking. 'i thought you and y/n were, you know, a thing.'

huh?

to say tsukishima was shocked was an understatement. he genuinely had no idea what to say; he never even let a thought of you and him being more than friends, 'partners in crime', as you loved to say, slip through his mind. never did it occur to him that someone from the outside would see your relationship as being something more than a merely platonic one. 

well, maybe there was something to it after all. 

yamaguchi's words made him wonder - although he did find you annoying at times, it was only occasionally and to a very little degree. that in itself was very rare in tsukishima's eyes, as he found most of the people surrounding him at least normally annoying. you, on the other hand, were a completely different case. your jokes, no matter how awkward or downright cringe, made him crack a silent laugh more often than not, and every time he saw you smile, his lips uncontrollably curved up into a small, barely noticeable one themselves. 

'oh, no, absolutely not.' the blonde blurted out after a long minute of silence, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red. 'there is not a single bone in my body that would want to date her. now get up idiot, or you'll be late to your date.'

the moment tsukishima opened his bedroom, after walking his friend to the bus stop, he immediately plopped down on his bed, phone in hand, instinctively opening messages to write to you. surprisingly enough, a message was already waiting for him.

'yachi almost cried because of how stressed she is T-T'

'do you think we should spy on them to make sure it all goes well?'

he found himself smiling at the words on his phone screen, quickly typing back an answer. 

'do you really not have a life of your own?'

'idiot.'

only after a few minutes did he get a response from you.

'can i come over?? i'm bored :33'

a harmless message, one might think. in reality, tsukishima was freaking out at the mere thought of hanging out with you for a reason other than setting up your friends, his cheeks a light shade of pink as his eyes kept digging a hole through his phone. 

you weren't any better than him - hands slightly shaky as you awaited a response for what felt like hours, but was actually just a few minutes. you had no idea what took over you; was it a sudden wave of bravery or rather an idiotic spontaneous choice to ask tsukishima that. but nonetheless, when you finally got the response, you felt ecstatic.

'alright.'

'bring some snacks.'

'kei, i think yamaguchi is he- oh, that's certainly a new face.'

you stood in front of the door with an awkward smile, facing tsukishima's older brother, akiteru, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. to say he was surprised was an understatement - he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. as if a friend that's not yamaguchi coming over to tsukishima's house was so out of the ordinary that it could become a national holiday. 

'come in.' the younger male appeared in the back of the hall, an oversized dinosaur shirt and shorts on. his expression was softer than usual; not until he looked at his brother, whom he gave a sharp stare, signaling him to let you inside and don't make such a fuss about it. 

you sat down on his bed, awkward silence filling up the room. not wanting to make the conversation about your friends as per usual, you slowly realized you don't know what to talk about, trying to think of something, anything, as you began unpacking your bag filled with snacks. 

surprisingly enough, it was tsukishima who spoke up first. 

'wanna watch a movie?' he asked, opening his drawer to pull out two bottles of soda, hidden there so that his brother doesn't devour all of them. 'unless it'll make you even more bored than you were before.'

'well, if you have a boring taste in movies-' 

'says the one who looks like their favorite movie is mamma mia.' tsukishima scoffed under his breath, turning his laptop on and starting to search up movies. you looked at him, a dramatic expression as you pretended to be offended. 

'and you look like you're about to mansplain the godfather to me.' 

a short silence filled the room before you heard the blonde boy let out a short, muffled laugh at your comment. 

'you couldn't be more wrong.' he sat down next to you, a small smile still on his face. 'i found it kind of boring, actually.'

'what do you like, then?'

'horror movies.' tsukishima stated, eyes focused on the screen. 'but tadashi gets easily scared, so i often don't have a chance to watch them.'

'same with me and yachi.' you said, unconsciously scooping a bit closer to the boy as you tried to get a better look at what he was searching up. 'i love them, but yachi jumps at every small scare on the screen. sometimes, she even gets scared when there's nothing happening at all.'

'they really do match each other.' he mumbled, putting the laptop on the bed as he pressed play on a movie he chose. his eyes quickly glanced your way to get a nod of approval on his choice.

'yeah, they do.'

and we could, too.

'are you and tsukishima dating?'

you almost spat out your drink, the words coming out of hinata's mouth catching you so off-guard you were close to choking. 

the three of you, along with kageyama, were currently cleaning up after volleyball practice, the boys racing on who would clean more balls off of the floor.

'no, we're not.' you said in a clearly sad tone with an obvious hint of dissatisfaction in your voice. 'what the hell made you think that way?'

the orange haired boy stopped in his tracks, his signature smile disappearing for a minute as he got lost in his own thoughts. 

'oh! i remember now.' he said after a short while, his grin coming back. 'yamaguchi told me that you two are close.'

'he did also mention that he seems happier around you.' kageyama added, joining the conversation. 'seeing tsukishima happy must be pretty scary.'

not really, you thought. but at the same time, what confused you more was what kageyama said right before. 

he seems happier around you.

yamaguchi has been kei's friend for the longest time, so any of his observations must be true, or at least that's what you liked to believe. but would that mean that tsukishima kei, the salty, closed-off guy whom everyone finds intimidating could possibly like you? was there truly a possibility that he enjoyed spending time with you? 

as you finished cleaning up the hall, saying your goodbyes to your two friends who ran off to practice volleyball somewhere else, a familiar, tall figure appeared in the doorframe, sharp eyes staring at you with an expression that you couldn't exactly decipher. 

'want me to walk you home?' he asked, hands in his pockets. 'it's getting late.'

you looked at him, trying to hide the blush creeping up onto your cheeks before quickly nodding as an answer.

'sure, let's go.'

most of the walk was filled with silence on both parts, exactly as you expected. even though it might've felt awkward for some, you did enjoy his presence in itself enough that a conversation wasn't necessary. 

the boy stopped in his tracks mid-way, reaching into his backpack and pulling out his phone and an old pair of white, wired earphones, showing them to you as a silent question of whether you wanted to listen to music with him or not. you agreed without a second thought, a small smile on your face as he put on one of his playlists. 

'i really like this song.' you mumbled, eyes lighting up upon hearing the familiar melody. with both of you wearing the same set of headphones right now, you were practically forced to walk closer to each other - hands constantly brushing against one another, a faint blush on your face as you tried to ignore it and focus on the music. 

tsukishima, on the other hand, couldn't shake away the thoughts roaming around his head. he felt as if what he was doing now was incredibly unlike him; and maybe it was. but for some reason, he didn't mind being like this around you. less cocky, sarcastic, mean and more... gentle.

he could feel his fingers brushing against yours from time to time, and it drove him crazy. should he go for it and play it off nonchalantly, or just ignore it? should he even make the first move or wait for you to do it?

before he was able to decide, tsukishima felt your hand reaching for his, heart rate immediately speeding up as your fingers shyly intertwined with his, looking the other way to hide your anxious expression.

his hand was much bigger than yours, but somehow it fit perfectly with yours. as if they were created solely to hold one another and nothing else. the plan to get your friends to be together was long forgotten by now - your mind was clouded with thoughts of tsukishima only, and little did you know that his wasn't any different. 

you glanced his way only to find his eyes already on you, hiding his true feelings behind a nonchalant look. only now did you notice that the two of you were standing in front of your house, the boy adjusting his glasses as he waited to see what you'll do next. 

'i guess i should go home now.' you mumbled, but you still didn't move an inch, hand not leaving his. 'see you tomorrow?'

his hand squeezed yours tightly before taking it away, an unusually warm and welcoming smile on his face. 

'sure. see you tomorrow, idiot.'

but as you slowly made your way towards the door, tsukishima couldn't shake away the feeling in him, telling him to go for it. and as much as he tried to resist it, he just couldn't anymore. 

'wait.’

before you could fully turn away, tsukishima kei's lips were already on yours, a sweet, long kiss that felt as if he was waiting to do it for years. his hand traveled to your waist and it didn't take long for you to react; lips moving swiftly with his, noses bumping into one another before you pulled away, a giggle escaping your mouth as you saw just how red tsukishima's face was.

‘don't laugh at me, moron.’ he said, immediately catching the reason for your laughter as he flicked you in the forehead. ‘your whole face is red, too.’

‘i didn't expect you to do this.’ you mumbled, eyes focused on his as you reached to hold his hand again. ‘didn't expect my feelings to be mutual, either.’

‘i'm glad we feel the same.’ his face leaned in closer to yours, a wave of confidence taking over him as he placed a short kiss on your forehead. ‘but i would still prefer to properly ask you out. if you'd say yes, that is.’ 

‘of course i would.’ you smiled, ‘i'd be stupid not to.’

‘should we bet on how long it takes the others to realize we're dating now?’ tsukishima smiled at you, eyes not leaving yours for even a spare second. you laughed at his idea, giving his hand a squeeze. 

‘get ready to lose, kei.’

‘you wish.’

taglist: @moonswolfie

[enwoso]

lovin' red | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

there is still a part four to come from weight of world but i wanted to put this little one out before it wasn’t relevant anymore:)

grumpy masterlist

the emirates was a wall of noise. the crowd was still roaring, still chanting, still very much in love with the the team, as even after a bit of a ropey season and amongst the doubt they'd finished second in the league - cementing that with a win over manchester united.

golden boot under her arm, alessia strolled with leah, her girlfriend and teammate, hands brushing. but their attention was on a small blur sprinting ahead of them.

"Y/N mind the cameras!" leah called out with a laugh. there being many reporters and media staff all with cameras you not having the best sense of direction (something you definitely got from your mum) 

but you weren't listening — you had locked eyes on your target. "AUNTIE ELLA!" you yelled, a wide grin on your face.

ella turning around a second too late as she was tackled by the flying bundle of your blonde curls and arsenal red. the manchester player staggering a bit but caught herself in time, lifting you up in a spin. "there's my favorite little russo," ella grinned.

you wrapped your arms around her neck like a koala. "you came!"

"of course i did," ella laughed slightly as she held you in her arms. "wouldn't of missed it. even if your mummy did thump us."

you blinked, playing with the collar of the blue away shirt that ella was wearing before a tiny gasp came from your lips. "did you see mummy got the shiny boot."

"i did see! a big golden shoe. it's very fancy."

"i helped," you said so proudly and matter of the factly. "i told her to score more goals and also did the lucky dances."

"oh! the lucky dances, of course," ella said, nodding gravely having seen a few from videos and england camps. "those are world famous by now."

"they are," you confirmed not really understand what the word famous meant, before narrowing your eyes slightly. "you sad you didn't win?"

ella shrugged, lips tugging up. "a little bit, but that's football innit. but i'm also proud of your mummy. and proud of you. you've been the real booster this season.”

and just then, alessia jogged up behind them, flushed from the walk, still riding the adrenaline. "thought you two might be together. you trying to kidnap my daughter again?"

"hey, little russo here is just spending time with her favourite auntie ella!" ella said innocently with a wide grin, still holding you.

"good job your her only auntie ella then," alessia teased, stepping closer. then there was a pause. something warmer passed between the two former teammates.

"you were class today, less," ella said, sincere now. "golden boot... you've made it look easy all season long."

alessia's smile softened. "thanks, tooney. never easy though you know that. but it meant a lot."

they bumped shoulders lightly, not needing much more than that — a shared history tucked into one glance. they'd always be the bestest of friends. for life.

"right," ella said, kissing your cheek. "go on, your mummy's got a stadium to conquer and i've got a shower callin' my name!"

you reached for alessia not before giving your auntie ella one last hug and getting scooped back into your mummy's arms as the two of you wandered down the pitch.

ahead, you spotted renee talking with a few teammates near the center circle. your eyes lighting up again. "mummy! quick. put me down!" you squirmed.

"you're gonna give someone whiplash," alessia muttered, but she obliged. lifting you down and before she even had a moment to blink you were darting across the grass and straight into renee.

"THANK YOU!" you shouted, throwing your arms around her.

renee staggered. "whoa—hey tiny! uh—thank you?" before the dutch coach knelt down, a little thrown. "but what for?"

you looked up seriously as if the answer was obvious. "for being cool."

renee blinked slightly confused. "i—well... thanks. i guess?"

you nodded, matter-of-fact. "you always give me fist bumps and you always say hi and you don't tell me off for running too fast."

"right," renee laughed, ruffling your hair a little. "well, you're welcome,, for all of that." behind the two of you, the arsenal girls had stopped to watch, arms crossed, grinning.

"think tiny is more popular than us at this point," caitlin whispered, a wide smile on her face as they continued to walk.

beth grinned. "oh for sure, she’s definitely got better pr."

you waved at the group like she was on a float, then spotted someone else and took off again. "CHLOE! LOLO!”

chloe turned, instantly catching on after a few more yells from you. "let me guess. another hug?”

"yes and no," you said, stopping dramatically in front of the chloe, scott chloe’s boyfriend standing nearby. "you have to stay lolo."

"stay?" chloe blinked a small chuckle from scott coming from behind. "with arsenal?"

"yes," you said, arms crossed as if you were able to control chloe’s future at the club. "i told mummy that you’re not allowed to leave."

chloe crouched down to your level, amused. "did you now?"

"i did," you replied you bottom lip wobbling slightly. "c-cause if you leave, who's gonna dance with me?"

beth snorted behind them along with a few others watching on. "she’s got your number, chloe."

chloe tilted her head thoughtfully. "that is a very strong argument."

"very very strong," you nodded. "you do the spin lifts. no one else does the spin lifts."

"true," chloe admitted. "but sometimes football changes. transfers, contracts..." you looked up at the blonde very unimpressed and slightly confused by the big words.

chloe sighed, not wanting to put a dampener on the already great day. "okay, okay. if i go, i promise i’ll fly back every weekend just to dance."

"you better." you paused, then offered her hand. "we do one now?"

chloe took it with a wink. "thought you'd never ask kiddo."

as the crowd roared and the players laughed, you and chloe spun in the middle of the emirates — like it was a stage built just for them.

a little off to the side, alessia and leah sat watching, arms around each other, boots laying next to them as they’d walked around in just socks along the turf which had carried them through the highs and heartbreaks of the season.

"look at her," alessia murmured, eyes soft as she watched you twirl with wild, fearless joy.

"she’s stolen the whole show," leah said, squeezing alessia’s waist.

"she’s picking up your attitude," alessia said, nudging leah slightly as she smirked. “and your cheek." the two of them bursting into laughter, leaning into each other, heads touching lightly.

"you’ve done it, less," leah whispered after a moment, voice quieter now. "golden boot. the perfect season. you’ve gave her something to remember forever."

alessia looked down at the trophy in her hands, then back at you, spinning and beaming under stadium lights. before she turned toward leah, eyes glowing. "so did you," alessia said. "we did it together."

leah kissed her then — soft and sure, in front of their team, their fans, and the daughter who made the whole world feel like home.

as the music faded into the hum of the crowd, you came running back over, breathless, cheeks flushed pink with joy.

"mummy! mama!" you shouted, barreling into both of them with a big squeal.

leah crouched first, scooping her up as alessia wrapped her arms around both you and leah. "you were having fun out there" alessia said, brushing your hair back from your slightly sweaty forehead.

"i know," you grinned, chest puffed out. "lolo says i’m a natural."

leah smirked. "we might have to get you an agent."

you wiggled between them, arms tight around their necks. "you both won today."

alessia blinked. "what do you mean?"

you pulled back slightly, looking serious. "you won your trophy, and mama won 'cause she's bossy. but i won 'cause i’ve got you two."

alessia melted instantly a pout forming on her lips as she could feel the tears building up in her eyes. leah went completely still for a beat — then tugged you in tighter.

"alright," leah whispered. "you’re definitely staying up late now."

"hot chocolate?" you asked, a cheeky smile on your face. "with marshmallows," alessia added.

"and a movie."

"deal."

the three of you sat there a moment longer — tangled together in the heart of the pitch, framed by confetti and floodlights and the fading hum of celebration.

three hearts, one family.

and as you looked up at the two women who were your whole world, you didn't care about trophies or titles.

you already had everything you’d ever need.

and under the hot sun of the emirates, with laughter in the air and trophies in hands, you all stood — family, and something even better: home.

[ikeuki]

and the world kept spinning ! / 니키

( pairing ) nishimura riki x fem!reader ✶ grumpy x sunshine ; fluff/crack, light cursing + one mention of a dealer/"product" — ( wordcount ) 1.3k

ᯓ★ ikeuki’s note. mr. nonchalant is not so nonchalant now…HE’S SELLING !!!

synopsis. after getting detention on picture day, riki swears he hates you—his actions do not follow his words however.

“i'm gonna dip at lunch.” jake decided and laid back.

“same i have a bio test during fifth that i'm not trying to do,” heeseung added and leaned on the classroom’s wall.

it was routine for the older boys to accompany riki in his class before the bell rang since they all had class without him. riki’s classmates refused to even look to the back of the room where the delinquents were sprawled out.

jake was trying to paper football with sunghoon, having his legs on some poor kid’s desk and flicking a triangle “football,” made out of that same kid’s notebook paper.

sunghoon was half-playing with jake and half-on his phone. his additions to the conversation were the occasional “mhm” and “yeah i'm down.”

jay was sitting in front of riki, turned around with his arms resting on the chair. he continued speaking to heeseung, who was by the window, about their plans to ditch.

“um since when do you take bio?” jake asked, repositioning his little football before flicking it across the desk, through sunghoon’s goal.

“since forever—just haven’t been to actual class yet,” heeseung answered with a laugh.

“so riki, you gonna ditch with us?” jay asked the younger boy who was carving random drawings on his desk with an overly sharpened pencil.

“uh i don't know...my mom's been on my ass since i ditched on monday, she got a call from the school or something,” riki mumbled, keeping his eyes on the smudged lead in front of him.

he was still upset at how the school dean reported riki leaving the school premises during picture day. everyone else was doing it and he just happened to be the only one who got caught. maybe if he wasn't so distracted that day...

“you’re joking—they still do that?” jake asked.

“apparently.” he recalled that day, when he was waiting in line to get his picture taken so he could slip out unnoticed. unfortunately, his long last name prevented him from leaving in the morning like the rest of his friends and was stuck in the stuffy gym for more than three hours.

he thought it was pretty unproductive. on the school’s part. the students would all line up then go to class once done. but since they can’t monitor each student leaving, they’re giving everyone a one way ticket out of class!

moments before his impatience was going to kill him, he was distracted by a vanilla-scented girl who would click her heels nonstop.

aka, you.

after your little interaction, riki swiftly exited the gym, but not before turning to watch you take your picture through the door's window. you smiled softly, teeth showing naturally with your lip gloss shining under the reflective screen.

you easily listened to his advice, his scoff turning into more of a subtle smile. his eyes followed your figure hop off the black stool and pick up your freshly printed student id.

"hey!" a voice called from down the hall.

riki whipped his head towards the sound to see a man walking towards him, "why aren't you in class!" oh shit, it was the dean.

thus, he got detention and the dean called his mom to tattletale his "ditching." he blamed it on you. if you hadn't clicked your stupid little heels, he would have never talked to you and then would have never stood there outside the gym, out in the open for any hall monitors (or deans...) to come and catch him.

now he had to bail on his friends and was in deep shit at home. all because of you and your stupid heels. and stupid curls. and stupid vanilla-scented perfume. whatever!

jay continued talking about their afterschool activities and heeseung shared that his dealer just shipped new product. uninterested in the conversation, riki turned his head to the window. his eyes drifted outside where students were rushing to class.

he skimmed through the various students he never cared to look twice at. until a familiar figure emerged from the hurried crowd.

wait—soft and shiny hair, little black heels, and the freshly pressed school uniform that never looked this good on any other student. riki knew that girl anywhere.

you were chatting away with your friends, too immersed in whatever you were saying to notice the steps by the front of the building. your mouth was moving at the same speed as your legs. failing to see the four steps ahead of you, your little black heels tripped on the first one.

riki instantly stood up. pushing back his chair and desk and watching as you fell forward. the loud movement from his desk attracted the attention of everyone in the class, turning to watch their silent, mysterious classmate become the star of the spotlight. riki didn’t even notice though, his eyes glued to your clumsy figure.

“dude—!” jake exclaimed at the sudden movement.

“what the fu—” jay moved back.

luckily (not for riki), class president and top student, yang jungwon managed to step forward just in time to catch you. the scene played out like one from a kdrama, him swiftly turning you on your back and making you lock eyes with your savior.

riki watched from across the courtyard, three stories above, and through the window as you two smiled at each other before you awkwardly got to your feet. he watched as you patted his shoulder and rambled an apology.

your cheeks were flushed, a little embarrassed and maybe a little blushing. riki hoped it was only the first.

hold up.

why would he care if you were blushing. blushing for that goody-two shoes yang jungwon—who all the teachers and students adored. whatever. you should’ve fallen on your face, riki would’ve liked that better…yeah he totally would’ve.

“what the hell man!” heeseung asked, gripping onto his shoulder to question his outburst.

snapping out of his trance, riki turned to his friend and finally realized that everyone was staring at him. he wasn’t used to such attention.

“o-oh..uhh it’s nothing—i thought—nothing nevermind.” riki stammered, embarrassed. he quickly took his seat again and kept his head down to avoid any awkward glances. the class slowly returned to their conversations, ignoring the boy’s questionable actions.

“what do you mean nothing...” sunghoon spoke up, furrowing his eyebrows.

before his friends could continue hounding him for an answer, the front door slid open with a loud slam! everyone turned their heads to the teacher walking into the class. upon spotting the four misplaced boys, his demeanor immediately turned sour.

“yah! you four—get to class!” the teacher shouted from the door, pointing to the obviously out-of-place seniors in a junior class.

startled but unmoved, the boys casually got to their feet and walked to the back door.

“im so sorry teach, we just love our riki so much!” jake fake apologized and bowed a whole ninety-degrees.

the other three began putting their hands together and bowing too, sarcastically muttering apologies to the teacher and the other students.

“GET OUT!”

“have fun learning algebra!” heeseung shouted with only his head peeking in from the back door. riki only laughed at his annoyingly loud friends as they ran out into the hallway.

as the teacher began class, he looked back out the window to see you long gone. instantly, he internally slapped his own face.

‘stop looking at the window, riki.’

‘why are you looking for her, riki.’

‘she likes jungwon, riki.’

‘STOP THINKING ABOUT HER, RIKI!’

riki kept his eyes shut and tried to calm his own crazy thoughts. he put his head down on his desk, ignoring whatever the teacher started blabbering about.

with the inviting warmth of the sunlight radiating through the window, he was slowly drifting to sleep when suddenly he heard the door open.

click. clack. click.

[ar-ghilas-vir-banal]

I’m so far down this spiral oh my God.

You’re Solas. You’ve had an existence of tragedy and pain and just… awful. So much awful. You’ve been hurt and you’ve hurt. You’ve ended the world. You had to. You never wanted this. You never wanted a body or to leave the Fade or to exist in this way. You wanted to be Wisdom.

Your friend branded you as a slave. She said you aren’t but… Why would she do such a thing? You try not to think about it.

Your friend convinced you to extinguish the magic and spark of an entire race. And you do it. And you’re sick. You’re sick and you can’t get well. But… it was what your friend wanted. And you loved her and… isn’t this how you love people?

She dies. You warned her, you begged her and she still… and they killed her. Her own family killed her. You’re rage. Rage and grief and you have to do something. Vengeance. Her blood calls out for it. And yours does too. The lyrium in your very bones sings for it.

And then it’s all… dead. Gone. Imprisoned. You’re nearly dead yourself. And so you sleep. For so very long, you sleep.

But now you’re walking the in the millennium aftermath of it all. You know you’re becoming something rotten not too long into this fight. Felassan fails. You don’t care about why. You don’t listen to him. Your rage rises up and you strike him.

And you’re truly alone now.

Perhaps you should’ve always been.

So you bear down and while you lack much of your former power… you find you aren’t above acquiring a tool for the job.

This admittedly horrible plan messes all the way up trying to fix what you’ve done and an innocent Dalish woman gets caught in the crossfire, one of the people who whom you’re hoping to return themselves, and now she’s got a piece of the Veil stuck in her hand.

Great. Well. Time to try to fix this enormous mess and refuse to admit that if you go through with your ultimate goal, the whole world’s going to look like this.

And then you start to fall for this woman. Not only is she a firebrand of simple goodness and kindness, she’s quite kind to you. She reaches out to you for wisdom and advice and talks with you, not at you. When you reach back to her, she meets you in the middle and tries her very best to understand. And then she protects you with the flimsy, unstable shield that your own mistake s have branded her with. She protects you in this world that hates elves and mages and apostate elven mages even more.

Your friend is bound and corrupted and she runs off to the Exalted Plains to help them. She weeps at your side as you grieve. She gives you space and then when you come back, she welcomes you with gladness. She tells you if ever you must grieve again, she’d like to be there.

She kisses you.

And you clutch her into your arms, and then again, because you suddenly realize your entire being has been yearning to touch and be touched by her for so long. You’ve never experienced anything like this. It’s intoxicating and agony and fire and the very air you need to breathe.

You are tempted to run but… you’d be without her. And you ask her to just sit and talk and she obliges, happily. She enjoys you. This mortal creature who you’ve branded with doom; she enjoys you.

You then start to wonder: has she always been this way? Maybe the Mark’s done something to her? Maybe it’s done something to me too; maybe it’s why I can’t stay away from her. So you ask and she just “mm. No, I’m me.” And you’re so incandescent about this that you shock yourself.

You tell her you’ve not forgotten the kiss. And she smiles like the dawn rising over the mountains. And you try to leave. “It would be kinder in the long run.” But she bids you stay…

You can’t fit her inside your body. But you try. You keep your hands from clawing their way into her clothes and skin but your arms lock around her like they were made to do that, and only that. You want to protect her too. You want to leave it all. You want to be Solas and her to be a simple Dalish woman and to live in the quiet woods with her and dance under the stars.

You get to. At Halamshiral, you draw her into your arms and dance until you forget you have feet and until the music is long abandoned to the sounds of night.

She does something so incredibly stupid at the Well. You want to claw your face off because she’s agreeing to what you did. She’s signing away her freedom… but then she tells you “I’ll use this to help this world as best I can”. And you feel… so seen by a person who can’t possibly see…

You will tell her. You’ll tell her everything. But when you stand in Crestwood, in the ruins of everything you did to get here… you can’t. You panic and you lie in that true way you have so it isn’t a lie but it isn’t what you meant to say. She lets you remove her culture, erase herself from who the people have become. She’s like you now. And oh whatever gods there be, she’s so beautiful that you feel like you could stare into her eyes for eternity… but… what have you done?

You’ve taken from her something she didn’t truly want to give up. You’ve made her change because you wanted her to. You’ve enforced your will on someone you told, you loved them. You’re Solas… you’re not Mythal.

You will not do this to her.

So you do then what you can only conclude is right by her. You break her heart and you break your own and there is somehow a worse pain than anything you’ve suffered before. She’s right there. All you need do it extend a hand, whisper one word. And the awful part, you’re so in love with her. You can’t help but watch her steps and listen for her voice and…

You need to leave.

You do. And you get to work. Two years crawl by. And you have your ear out for her still. It’s all part of the plan you tell yourself but you just want to keep a tether there in some form and you know you do.

Seeing her again is like falling on a spear. Shes dying. You knew she would. You knew she’d come too, curious and determined as ever. But you didn’t expect to hear her scream in pain and collapse in front of you. You go to your knees with her. You… you have to kiss her. Just one more. And you save her… you take her arm.

She tells you your love will endure and you could howl in anguish. She still loves you?! After all this? After what you’ve done? You watch the Fade bleed from her body. You ache to gather her up and take her with you. She even asked to go with you. But you know what the Evanuris were in their determined goals… what you’ll be by the time you’re done. Let her remember you as Solas… the apostate mage with stories and paint under his nails, who loved her helplessly.

You will not allow her to become another Felassan.

Eight years pass and while you’re at work, deeply committed, restless in your plans… she isn’t gone from you. Your sleep betrays you and you find yourself watching her. You watch her call out and search for you. You watch yourself, a dream, meet her and touch her and your mind burns with the hunger for just the brush of her hand. You listen to her weep over choices she made that haunt her, and you’re unable to comfort her. You can feel her terror as nightmares assail her, and if you weren’t a wolf in this form, you’d scream. You feel mad when you wake, tortured and raw and you’d run to her… but then you redouble your abstinence. Like opening a vein, you let the urge to drop everything and go find your Dalish heart and put her in your ribs where she belongs and never let her out. The truest horror of it all is she knows you’re there in all this. She can see you. She can see you refusing her, over and over and over. Ignoring her nightmares of being Blighted, ripped apart by Terrors and Shades, staring while she mourns the fallen who she sent to their deaths.

You’re a monster.

But then it’s all going to happen. Finally. And you don’t even feel energized by it. You simply think of her. You write almost automatically, as if your hand has a mind of its own. You tell her everything you wanted to scream in her dreams. Everything you wanted to in Crestwood.

Varric dies. No. No. You kill Varric.

You use Rook’s blood to make them see him. They loved him. He loved them. It’s… so cruel.

You’re a monster.

You repeat that to yourself on the steps in Minrathous. You’re barely able to keep your feet, your ribs feel pulped from the dragon’s teeth. Your skin feels hot and wet under your armor. You’re bleeding, so much so that you can taste it in your breath. The Blight burns on your lips. Your eye is blurred over with blood salt and tears.

And out of the night a voice speaks up to you that steals every single ounce of focus from your exhausted mind. You stare at her. She’s coming closer. “I forgive you!” she cries, her face pleading that you listen. She’s unarmed. She knows you killed Varric and she knows you could kill her. She knows you might. You can see it in the way she moves, the way her hands open at her sides as she moves closer.

Felassan’s face swims in your mind.

Please don’t you want to sob. Don’t make me hurt you. I’m a monster; I told you I didn’t want you to see me like this. So you try to explain again. To find some purchase on your own logic as to why this is still something you should do. Something she should allow. You look away, and you almost sigh in relief. She’s too bright; your eyes aren’t worthy of the sight of her anyway. You’ve hurt that woman so many times. And she’s still speaking of forgiveness?! FOR YOU?!

Morrigan?

Mythal.

You almost fall to your knees in front of her spirit. You can’t tell what the feeling is. Despair? Fear? Worship? Maybe all of them. But she tells you your sins are hers too. She took you from your home, twisted you… broke you. And you feel something slide off of you that somehow doesn’t make you stand straighter. You’re sick again. You’re collapsing. You’re a ruined wall, the last piece of a derelict castle on a crumbling mountain, and you’re giving way.

“Banal nadas. Ar lath ma, Vhenan.”

Mythal said that she broke you. Your being admits it. You weep, bowed, humbled… but free. You didn’t know you were shackled. But now that the chains are off, you feel it now. The chafed wounds where they’ve been locked for centuries. The sudden lack of weight that leaves you trembling and weak in its absence. You don’t remember them not being there.

But you do remember when you were able to ignore them. You remember how the Dalish woman refused to allow bigotry and hatred stop her from saving the world. You remember how she ran herself ragged for people who didn’t even care if she lived. You remember how she called them innocent.

You decide, or you are finally able to decide, that you want and perhaps have always wanted, to be like her.

So you shed your blood, not that you aren’t bleeding enough already, to ensure you’re bound to the Veil. Your life is its life.

“I will go and seek atonement.” You look into her eyes, as long as you can stand it. You hope she’ll be proud of you for finally being the hero she believed you could be. She looks back… so very beautiful. But no. No you’re not allowed to even think about that marvelous, bright creature like that.

“But you do not have to go alone.”

The touch of her hands makes you want to collapse. One of metal and wood, one of flesh and bone. She gives them both to you. Dumbly, you look at them. You’re touching her. This divine, unearthly thing is smiling at you, speaking to you. Holding your bloody, murderous, betrayer’s hands in hers. Your’s tremble and bleed. Her’s do not.

But what did she say? You don’t have to- No. No, Vhenan. Into that place? Into that prison? To war with madness and agony for eternity? No. You can’t…

“Ar ghilas vir banal.” You feel your heart crack and shatter as you say it. You’ll have to walk away from her again. You’ll have to leave her again. You’ll have to be alone, sundered from even her dreams… it’s what you deserve. And she deserves to be free of you. Finally.

But she just… keeps smiling. Her grip on your hands tightens. With a little shake of her head and a fondness on her face that you can’t begin to even fathom, she sings to you.

“Tel banal ar ama. Vir shiral la ma sa. Bellanaris.”

She comes nearer. Nearer. You wonder what she’s doing and then you realize like a slap to the face that you’re being offered a kiss.

A kiss.

You don’t think. You don’t even try. Your body screams as you bend spine and ribs and shoulder down to her. You’re filthy and bloody. She’s pristine. Gorgeous. She’s everything you aren’t.

She pauses. It’s a breath’s pause, eyes searching yours. And somehow, you know what the question in her’s means. “Do you want this?”

It’s almost hilarious.

You don’t hesitate. For the first time, you don’t. You close your eyes and let the moment wash over you. Perhaps she’ll change her mind in a little while. But for this one slice of time… you’re going to let this one thing be entirely good.

Her lips are everything your longing has has been good enough to remind you. Soft. Gentle. But also this is… so unlike anything you’ve experienced, even with her. It’s not like even the first kiss in the Fade. It’s so terribly tender that your throat tightens and your eyes burn. She’s so very gentle with you.

So you’re gentle back. You turn the Blight on your lips as far from hers as you can. You don’t yank her against you and bury yourself in her as you’d like to. You rub your thumbs over her knuckles. You caress her cheek with your nose. And when she withdraws with an even more angelic smile on her face than before…

You have to smile too. It’s as if her lips have infected your own.

Rook and Morrigan smile at the two of you. You can almost feel it, like the glow of flame. Warmth. You’ve been so cold for so long. You thank Rook. They smile at you, eyes tender. And your heart smiles at them too as you step toward the Veil. Knowing. Grateful.

Standing alone for a moment feels like standing on the edge of a cliff. You almost lurch forward, considering the decision to leave her. To make her stay. But… no. You lack the strength to rip yourself away from her again. It would be cruel to reject her promise but… if it spared her…

Her hand weighs down on your shoulder. I’m here. Let’s go. Vhenan. You can feel the words, as if touch is enough for her to speak to you. Perhaps after sharing dreams for so long, it’s true. You dare not look at her. You might shove her away.

And then you’re passing into the Fade. And you’re not alone. And you feel her hope burst into a flame of unrepentant, inextinguishable joy. Joy because of you. Joy because you never have to be parted again. Joy that you finally, finally chose her after having chosen you so many times.

You could weep and you do, with how you know you’ve made her feel. But when your feet are upon solid ground again and she is surging toward you with a quiet cry of Vhenan… you catch her. You crush her to you and she laughs, sounding like the younger woman you abandoned, and she kisses you and you kiss her because you can’t bear to do anything else. And there’s no pulling away. Even as your knees give out and your body begins to betray the amount of damage you’ve suffered, you hold each other. Her tears mix with your own and your blood and she’s all you know and all you care about. She’s real and she’s here and she is with you.

Your mind stumbles over a cluster of words that reorganize into something coherent and you almost feel disgusted at them. But then… it’s true. You know it is. If it meant her, if it meant being cradled to her even in a prison made of regret and failure and pain… safe and loved and whole, in a terrible place unmade simply because of the person hiding you in the hollow of her body… It was all worth it.

[littlelovelunette]

heyy, could I request one where sevika keeps making fun of reader for "not using their brain" and things like that because they feel comfortable around her and end up acting kinda stupid, but it really hurts their feelings and they end up breaking down?

Common Sense

Sevika x Fem!Reader

You and Sevika were so comfortable with each other that you often let your mind wander. That made you get clumsy, brain foggy and stupid.

But Sevika never minded it, instead it was funny to her and she called you a dumbass because of it. In fact, Sevika found it so endearing.

You were so lovestruck by her, you didn't care to really think it through. All the "Stupid"s, "Idiot"s and other insults she threw your way always flied over your head.

You didn't care. Didn't used to. It was one of those days you felt dumber than usual.

You were trying to make sense of Sevika's gambling as she placed her cards with ease, stacking pocker chips relentlessly.

After a while of staring you decided to ask her. "Baby, how do you play that?" You asked.

"Oh you wanna learn?" Sevika asked, her tone taking on slight condescension but also mixed with affection that you failed to catch.

"Mhm..." You looked up at her, shifting close so your thigh was touching hers.

Sevika smirked, leaning back in her chair as she shuffled the deck effortlessly.

"Alright, I'll teach you, but don't expect me to go easy on you," she said, her voice laced with amusement. She slid a few chips toward you before dealing out two cards face down.

"You start with two cards," she said, nodding toward yours. "The goal is to make the best five-card hand using these and the ones I put in the center." She tapped the table before continuing.

You peeked at your cards, then back at her. "Okay… but how do I know if my hand is good?"

Sevika's smirk twitched, her brow raising like she couldn't believe you were asking. "Are you serious?" she scoffed. "You’ve never played poker before?"

You shook your head, and she sighed albeit a bit dramatically, rubbing her temple. "Damn. Alright, listen up, genius." She leaned forward, tapping your cards. "Pairs are good. Three of a kind is better. A straight is five numbers in a row. A flush means all the same suit. Full house? Three of a kind plus a pair."

She studied your expression for a moment before scoffing again. "You're really struggling with this, huh?" Her voice was teasing, but the way her lips curled into an amused smirk made your face heat up.

"This is, like, common sense, babe. You gotta use that brain of yours."

Flipping over three cards in the middle of the table, she continued, "This is the flop. Now you figure out if these help your hand or not. But don't just stare at them like they’ll speak to you." She chuckled, shaking her head. "Poker ain't just about the cards. It’s about reading people."

Her grey eyes locked onto yours, sharp with amusement. "And right now? You look like a fish trying to do algebra."

You knew the tears were building behind your eyes and you saw by the corner of your eyes that Silco's men were approaching the table seeing Sevika.

It was a perfect excuse to leave now.

"I-I'm gonna go home, this poker stuff is really getting to my brain." You said, voice wavering a little which gave away the clear hurt in you.

Sevika caught onto it, eyebrows furrowing. She wanted to say something but didn't want to push you too hard in public.

"I'll see you tonight." You said, eyes glossy before you turned and stalked off. Sevika stared where your figure had disappeared through the exit, one hand raised as if she would've grabbed your wrist but then she retracted her hand.

You hadn't even kissed her goodbye.

When you reached home, you had a complete breakdown and cried in bed for hours before eventually deciding on just eating ice-cream until Sevika got back.

You were in bed with a spoon in hand, deep asleep snoring softly against the bedsheets with the empty tub of ice-cream beside you.

Sevika unlocked the door and stepped inside frowning because you would usually jump at her and tell her how much you had missed her.

But there was no sign of you today.

She cautiously walked inside the bedroom and then her heart almost melted seeing your adorable state.

Sure— some would say it was messy and gross the way you were snoring, drooling and eating ice-cream in bed— but to Sevika it was equivalent to a baby kitten snuggled and asleep.

Sevika took off her clothes until she was left in a tanktop and shorts. She walked closer, gently prying the spoon out of your small hand. She moved the empty tub of ice-cream away.

"Baby." She called softly pulling you into her lap after she got in bed. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"Mmm..?" You sleepily blinked up at her. "Forget it. I'm too sad to be mad."

"Which is why I'm apologising. I'm sorry baby I didn't mean you were that dumb. You're just... Silly." This time when Sevika said it, she was being playful and you knew it. The little curve at the corner of her lips gave it away.

You hit her.

"Don't you dare." You pouted.

Sevika chuckled and brought you close to her chest. "Never stop being stupid around me. You're all I have left. And I'm genuinely..." Sevika paused. "Afraid to lose you." She finished with somewhat great difficulty admitting she was scared of something for once.

"Nothing bad's gonna happen." You kissed her and she returned it.

[diejager]

it's always girl dad König or girl dad Simon but girl dad Makarov whose little princess gets away with everything

Cw: mention of assassination, protective behaviour, father!Makarov, tell me if I missed any. nnote: every dialogue in italic is spoken in Russian.

“- could provide you with-” 

“Papa, ” you poked your head through his office room’s door after giving it three light knocks.

You knew your dad was in his office, a worker of the house had told you where he was after you asked her, the old lady’s face wrinkling up with her gentle, saying that she saw a Bolivian man escorted to his office, but didn’t know if he left or not. Wanting to try your luck, you crossed the mansion to get to his office, built on the left side of the house, while your bedrooms and study rooms were on the other end of the mansion. He liked to separate his work life and his life with you, for better protection and keep your from knowing the dangers of life —or so he says. 

A man sat across him, the bald head of the Bolivian man Old Baba mentioned, wearing a suit sewed in fine looking silk, of rich and luxury that even your father never wore around so carelessly. It would catch people’s attention, right or wrong, he didn’t need any of that, he would rather wear the same black and white attire, clean and normal enough to be unnoticeable by the mass. The dichotomy between the fat man and your father was laughable, a scene you’d only see in your comedy novels or a movie. Your abrupt entrance had cut the man’s proposition in half, turning both their attention towards the door where you blinked owlishly, partly in guilt for barging into his meeting and in shock at the bald man’s heavy perspiration. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were still talking,” you bowed your head, ready to excuse yourself for barging in, “I’ll come back later, papa.”

“It’s fine,” Makarov waved his hand, nodding his head to let you know he wasn’t mad, your father would never be mad at you, you listened so well and never fought him on anything. You were a gem in his eyes, something precious and untouchable to all but him, “I’ll have someone call you when I’m done.”

When you closed the door, Makarov’s attention turned back to his potential - well, past potential - ally, his eyes darkening after he caught the man whispering something horrid about your interruption. His business was yours as much as it was his, you might’ve been kept in the dark at most time, but you knew enough to know he was a dangerous man. He kept you sheltered, but not naive.

And after half-heartedly listening to what the man had to provide, Makarov dismissed him, giving him a cold apology about those needs being fulfilled by a prior contractor, someone who already provided him with the material he proposed. He didn’t need a rich pig that stupidly flaunted is money, it would attract to many eyes and he didn’t need that if he wanted to reach his goal and build a better world for you. 

He flicked his wrist, opening his phone and mindlessly dialling a number, pressing the screen to his ear as he watched the man amble down the stairs, struggling to make his way to the car he had a chauffeur waiting for him. The person on the other side picked his call within seconds, a cool and monotone voice ready to receive his order from Makarov, the unbothered tone at his fury, a personal and petty thing that clawed at his mind. 

“Make it known that I will have no one disrespect my daughter.”

“Yes, sir.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[onlyquinns]

Hiii!!!

First Your Jack Hughes fics im actually obssessed so I was wondering if you could write a fic about when Jack reinjured his shoulder. Like youre watching in the crowd and you rush down to the rooms to see him in pain and so upset and like him after the surgery. Him being all clingy but also really upset and moody yk.

Anyway just an idea!! But thank youuuu

you’re seated next to two of your friends, giddy in your seat as the three of you look down at the t-mobile arena ice rink. you’re dressed in a cute, little leather jacket that jack had bought you as a gift, his initials and number stitched into the cuff.

it’s been a while since you’d found time to watch one of jack’s games, far too caught up with work, and your friends knew that. the two of them had schemed together, finishing your work on top of theirs at the company the three of you worked at so you could finally find a day to fly out and attend a game. you were so excited, having thanked your friends with a girls night out and a fancy dinner as repayment—which really wasn’t necessary, since the three of you always said that you basically shared a floating twenty, even if the total cost was most definitely over twenty bucks.

as the arena lights dim, the crowd begin to shout and holler, a clear sign that the game is about to introduce the home team. your friend to the left, sarah, grabs your arm and squeals, shaking you with excitement as you excitedly point out jack to your two friends. they giggle with you, fully happy for you, and glare at the middle aged man who glares at the three of you.

maddie, your friend to the right, scoffs in your ear. “don’t let him ruin your night, girl,” she tells you, but you already had forgotten the nasty look he’d gave your little group, eyes drawn to jack’s tiny figure on the ice as you slowly rise for the anthem.

when the opening stuff is finally over, you watch with rapt enthusiasm as jack’s figure skates across the ice. he zips like lightning, moves calculated and controlled. you nibble on your nails, body positioned at the edge of your seat, as your boyfriend bullies his way across the ice and shoots.

as the game continues, score still zero for both teams, your anxiety builds. it’s the third period and you feel antsy, far too invested in the game. your knee bounces, and sarah reaches over to place a steadying palm to your leg, her fingers squeezing against the jeans you’re wearing. you give her a grateful smile and quietly sip your beer, hoping someone will score.

suddenly, the crowd cheers and several people shoot out of their seats. you quietly groan as the knights make a goal—the first one of the night—and listen to the loud horn that fills your ears and the arena.

“it’s okay,” sarah says, “they’ll get the next one.”

you nod in agreement and settle back down, watching as the two teams meet in the center for the puck drop.

it’s near the end of the third and the devils are losing 0-2. your heart feels heavy in your chest, but lightening just a little as jack comes back onto the ice. he skates like his life depends on it, rushing for the puck.

“woah,” maddie says later in the night, a beer in one hand. “jack’s really fast, it’s impressive.”

you nod, smiling a little with pride, because that’s your boyfriend. you’re about to respond, when jack’s body is slammed into the boards during a breakaway.

a gasp leaves your lips, hands flying to cover your agape mouth. he doesn’t move as he lays there, not even when another player jostles him and pulls him into a hasty recovery position.

“oh, my god,” you breathe, watching as he suddenly wakes back up.

without warning, you get out of your seat and run through the seats, quick apologies tumbling from your mouth. your friends call for you as you stumble down the steps, their voices dimming as you leave the stands. you can still hear the announcers as you skirt through the arena, finding the hallway that leads to the players locker rooms.

the security guard takes a look at you and steps aside. “he’s in medical,” he says as you whizz past. “to the left.”

“thank you!” you say as you make your way through, only stopping when you find a room labeled with medical in big, white letters.

when you push the door open, several people turn to usher you out, but you don’t care. you shove past them until you reach jack, his body propped up on an exam table. he’s still in his gear, except for his upper half. his hair is damp with sweat as he listens to the medical staff in front of him, face crestfallen as he takes in their words, a hand pressed to his hurt shoulder.

“are you okay?” you ask, grasping his face in your warm hands. jack’s surprised look quickly melts away as he registers your presence, his face suddenly shifting to something stronger and braver.

he chuckles, but it’s not his usual laugh. “of course i am, baby,” he says, smirking a little.

tears brim your eyes, “bullshit!” you turn to the team in front of you, eyes wild, then turn back to jack. “what—what happened? please, tell me.”

jack looks down at his lap and your hands slip from his face. he holds your hand tightly in his, and sighs. the medical team clears out, leaving the both of you together.

“i… i need to get my shoulder worked on again. hit the boards too hard and knocked out.” he looks up at you and gives you a painful smile, “lucky i still have all my teeth, huh?” he jokes, but you don’t laugh.

you frown, aware of how he might be feeling. “when are you flying out?” you ask, squeezing his hand in yours.

jack gnaws on his lip, “soon. come with me?”

you nod, “i’m always going to be by your side, jack.”

and you do.

you pick him up at the hospital after he’s discharged from his surgery, arm planted in a dark sling. you have a pillow in your car for his arm to rest on, his water bottle tucked in the cup holder for him to sip on, and advil tucked into your glove box. jack praises you as you drive the two of you home, snorting as he exaggerates his gratitude.

“oh, my god—you’re like an angel,” jack says as you pull into the parking spot of his apartment. “i can literally see the halo in your hair, baby!”

you laugh as you help him out of the car, listening to his teasing words as you walk through the lobby, as you ride through the elevator, and as you finally walk into the apartment with him.

“i’m going to change, okay?” you say, pulling your hair off your neck and clipping it up with a giant claw clip. you’re about to walk down the hall to jack’s room when he whines.

you look over at him, amused to see him laying on his back on the couch and his feet thrown over the arm rest. he dramatically kicks his feet, knowing it’ll make you laugh.

���cuddle with me!” he says. “it’s doctors orders!” he says dramatically, smirking a little when you relent and walk over.

“jacky, we won’t fit on the couch,” you say with your hands on your hips. jack admires your figure in your work clothes, hips looking soft and full in your black slacks.

“well… you said that last time but we still made it work,” he responds slyly.

your face heats at the insinuation, “that’s not what i meant!” you say, voice filled with indignation. “i meant that i’ll cuddle you in bed!”

jack grins and jumps up, “okay!” leaving his lips as he rushes down the hall and into his room. you sigh and follow after him, finding him in his boxers and shirt.

you walk over to him and gently maneuver his arm free from the sleeve of his t-shirt, tossing it into the hamper as he gets comfy in bed. you follow suit, stripping down to your underclothes, and laying in bed next to jack. you pull the thick comforter over your bodies, smoothing the fabric so it lays flat against your skin. jack hums as you tuck yourself into his side, tangling your leg into his and slinging an arm across his chest.

“i’m sorry you can’t play the rest of the season,” you murmur against his chest, lips brushing against soft skin.

jack shrugs, “it’s okay,” he says in an attempt at convincing you and himself. “at least… at least i get to spend more time with you,” he whispers, turning his face into you. long curls brush against your hair. “and even if the whole injury thing is the worst case scenario, i’m making the best out of it.”

you smile against his skin, “yeah… i suppose you’re right.”

jack hums in agreement and lays with you in comfortable silence, his arm forgotten and his mind on just you—you tucked into his body, skin to skin, and filled with an immeasurable amount of love for him. just him. just jack hughes, your boyfriend—not jack hughes, the hockey player.