#my brain is also still kind of fried from the last couple of weeks

[egophiliac]

happy new year Ego!!! Just wanted to let you know that I absolutely adore your twst fanart and the tags are just an absolute pleasure to read! You are my greatest inspiration for my personal twst art and I just wanted to thank you for your wonderful masterpieces <333 if possible, may I ask what are some of your headcanons for the diasomnia family? If not for diasomnia then any other characters are fine as well!

thank you, and happy new year! 💚💜💚 that is amazing to hear; it's always a little bewildering but super flattering that other people like my silly little doodles so much!

I don't think I really have any really solid headcanons and also canon keeps validating me left and right (FLUFFY DOMESTIC DIAFAM IS REAL). mostly just kind of...impressions and general thoughts, if that makes sense! lately though I've been kind of obsessed with thinking about Lilia's hair, and specifically when/why he ended up cutting it. (l-look, we're bouncing around the timeline and I gotta make decisions about these things when I draw, it's relevant) (I mean I would probably be weirdly fixated on this anyway, but.)

I think I've settled on the idea that he kept it long until he went to NRC, partly because 1) I like drawing The Ponytail, and 2) I think he thought of NRC as a chance to reinvent himself a bit! he gets to go and be a wacky carefree teenager for a few years and have fun! (officially he's there to keep an eye on Son #1, but how much trouble could he get into, really.) so he gave himself a Cool Teen Haircut to go with his fresh new Cool Teen Persona!

also maybe he had some reflection on his hair's troubled past with three kids...

...and had to weigh his vanity versus the fact that he was going off to be around hundreds of kids on a daily basis, and. the choice suddenly seemed obvious.

[the-cooler-newton]

god damn i gotta write some fucken words about what happened during my last session of disco elysium cus its been a couple days and I am still reeling.

buckle up its a long one.

It all started when I spoke to the wind (shoutout Shivers, one of the most skills of all time), then teleported to the roof of a building [100% real] [not clickbait] (Kim would say I just climbed up with my eyes closed but he doesn't know what he's talking about)

in the basement of the building the game makes it obvious that I'm about to cross a point of no return, and I should make sure I've tied up my loose ends with people before I continue. (a small puddle of dread settles in my stomach. whatever is about to happen probably won't be good).

I press on and we find the woman we've been looking for, Ruby - at this point, the prime suspect for the murder investigation. She shoots some kind of sonic end-of-the-world ray at us (wild) which incapacitates us with Excruciating Brain Noise Pain (wild). then she tells me I apparently used to work for one of the most notorious criminals in the city. this is news to me, but finding out I used to be Corrupt Cop SupremeTM is about to be one of the least stressful parts of my day.

I ask Ruby a lot of questions; about her drug trade, about the dead man, about Klaasje, and about who I was before I deep-fried my brain, because for some reason she knows. It becomes clear that she didn’t commit the murder, and that Klaasje has lied to us. Going to have to talk to her once we get out of this (*looks into camera*).

When I finally manage to knock over Ruby’s noise ray, she pulls a gun - not on me, on herself. She doesn’t see a world in which she gets out of that basement alive and doesn’t spend the rest of her life as a fugitive, from the law as well as from the crime syndicate we both, apparently, used to be part of.

I fail the check to convince her not to kill herself. She blows her brains out right in front of me.

I proceed to do what we in the biz call “freak the fuck out“. Kim, on the other hand, seems to remain mostly levelheaded. He calmly walks me through what we need to do with the body, and what our next steps should be.

Part of my brain whispers, “Professionalism is his coping mechanism.” The statement feels like a punch to the gut. Professionalism is his coping mechanism - yeah. of course it is. that makes perfect sense. He’s the professional, he’s the one that started the week knowing how to do his job. This entire game has been a series of me freaking the fuck out and him patiently keeping me anchored.

I think, surely this will be the worst thing that happens today. Surely these will be the most intense emotions I experience this session. Surely.

We leave the basement and start making our way back to the Whirling. About halfway there, something in my brain tells me to get my gun out. (The large pond of dread in my stomach grows).

Outside the Whirling, 3 mercenaries in heavy white armour matching the type we found on the dead man in the tree stand before the Hardie boys, the group of Union-hired vigilante peacekeepers who confessed to putting him there.

Well, shit. Time to do my stupid fucking job.

Me and Kim step into the space between them, and try to explain to the mercenaries that the Hardie Boys are not the people that killed their friend. But we haven’t solved the goddamn murder yet, so I cant tell them who actually did. And the Hardie Boys were the ones who put him in that tree and left him to rot for weeks. Also, Klaasje’s fucken booked it, and so has the company representative who’s supposed to be in charge of the mercenaries.

I try, over and over, to get the mercs to calm down, step back, and rethink what they’re about to do. But they’re drunk. And they’re angry. And they just want to shoot someone about it.

So, I shoot them first. and then they shoot me back.

Now I’m on the ground, barely conscious, with Kim on his knees next to me, trying to stop me from bleeding out. And I think... could I die here?

Then a figure in white armour appears behind Kim, gun raised, the last of the mercs still standing at this point. Kim doesn’t notice her - he’s too busy trying to keep my blood inside my body, and telling me to stay awake. And I think, holy shit. Could *Kim* die here???

There’s an Authority check.

Its an Authority check because it isn’t a check for if I can warn him. Its a check for whether or not he listens to me.

I get a +1 modifier, because “The lieutenant trusts you.”

I get further +2 modifier, because “Kim *truly* trusts you.”

First of all, masterful use of the power of names there, Disco Elysium. I raise my glass.

Secondly, holy shit I have never been more ecstatic about modifiers for a check. Are you kidding? This game’s ability to emotionally destroy me with a simple +1 or +2?? Making the impact and strength of interpersonal relationships tangible and explicit through the medium of “game mechanic” ??  yes bitch sew that shit into the fabric of the world and the lens through which I view it. beautiful showstopping brilliant.

Thirdly, oh my god Kim trusts me. He truly trusts me. He trusts me enough to save his life. I turn away from my computer and punch the air for a couple seconds in victory, because I am so very stressed and also so very happy and I gotta let that energy out somehow. I’m about to die probably but I feel like I’ve won the game.

I pass the Authority check.

With the last of my fading strength, I warn Kim about the mercenary behind him. He turns and shoots at her, and then I’m gone, sunk below the surface into the black screen of unconsciousness where only Ancient Reptilian Brain and Limbic System can find me.

They’re assholes, as usual. I wonder if I’m dead.

But I’m not dead. And eventually, my brain starts to boot back up.

“He can’t go,” Volition says. “Not before the case is solved.”

“He is the infernal engine,” Limbic System hisses. “He never stops. He only gets worse.”

When I wake up, I’m back in my room in the Whirling-In-Rags, except its looking a lot cleaner than the last time I saw it. And Kim is there - a little beat up, but alive. “Sunrise, parabellum,” he says. Sunrise, prepare for war. 

Apparently, I’ve been out for 2 days. I ask him what happened, and he gives me a very succinct and Professional recap. All 3 of the mercenaries are dead - Kim and I both have at least one confirmed kill, there. 3 of the Hardie boys are dead too - one took a bullet meant for Kim, and Empathy tells me that isn’t the first time someone’s died in his place. He lights a cigarette. He reports that the situation between the Union and the companies involved is tense, but hasn’t exploded. War has not descended just yet.

“And...” he says with a smile. “We are still alive. Both of us.”

Rhetoric tells me Kim didn’t expect us to step into the middle of that confrontation and both survive.

I ask if he’s hurt. He says “Not very,” even though I can tell he took a beating. He says he has a concussion, but that things would have been worse if I hadn’t warned him about the last merc.

“Thank you,” he says. “I did not see her coming. Stupid of me...”

Stupid of me. I close my eyes for a moment to have a complex emotion and a few deep breaths.

I ask how badly I’m hurt. Kim tells me I was shot in the thigh, but no major arteries were damaged. “The bullet was removed and a bacterial infection treated with mercurochrome,” he says. Passive language; professional. I ask if anyone from my station has arrived. He says he reported the situation, but no-one has turned up yet.

I ask, “If not my station, then who treated me?“

Kim replies, “I did.”

And I have to restart my brain - my real one, the one I keep my emotions in. Are you kidding? He pulled that bullet out of my leg? He treated the infection? He took care of me while I was unconscious for two days? Oh my god. Oh my god.

When I get up, I notice that the door that connects our rooms together is unlocked. He says he got the manager to open it because I was running a fever during the first night due to the infection, so he had to keep checking on me. When I thank him for keeping me alive, he says it would’ve been easier if he wasn’t concussed.

And I. hooh. I try to be normal about this and I fail miserably because for real??? He did all that?? and with a concussion?? Kim, of course, is being professional about it and saying its all part of his training. but god damn. you cannot just put scenes like this - a series of scenes like this! in a video game and expect me to come out of it alive. my heart cant take it. im too soft. ill have to take 3-5 business days to turn everything over in my head like a rotisserie chicken and write a 1800 word tumblr post to cope.

after i finish short-circuiting, Kim and I go over the case one more time. yeah, the case, the murder investigation, the reason we’re here. feels kind of far away, now. But we have a job to do.

Klaasje left a bullet trajectory on the roof, red string taped to a window, pointing out from the murder scene to a small island in the bay. She lied to us before, but she was there when the hanged man ate lead, and this is the last thing she did before she skipped town.

Kim looks tired, as if, for the first time during the course of the game, the last thing he wants to do is investigate this godforsaken murder. But seven people died two days ago because of this murder, and this red string is all we’ve got.

I say, “Kim, lets go to the fucking island.”

and he says, “Okay, let’s go to the fucking island.”

then I close the game and stare at my keyboard in silence for 45 minutes.

[missdbrill]

01.05.2023

Well life moves so fast! So after 2 weeks of subpar actions from him in our relationship, of me questioning everything and wondering if we even still had a future I finally got the man I love back. Ironically he blew me out last min Fri night after I had spent 2 hours beautifying myself. It was literally 9.15pm and he told me he was going to have an early night and not come over. His reasons were completely understandable. We had a bank hol weekend together anyway as well so plenty of time. But it just broke me. I think after the couple weeks of feeling unloved and everything feeling less (apart from the blissful couple of hours when I surprised him working from home). It just felt like the last straw. I cried and cried and cried. I went to sleep and woke up in the night and cried. I woke up in the morning and cried. I was so over not feeling wanted.

So the kids got picked up by their Dad and I went over to his at about half 11. Initially things still seemed a little off. Well probably more to me as I had that negative frame of mind. In the afternoon we went to the park together and he still seemed a little uncaring of my feelings, but again I was in the zone of taking everything personally. Then somehow something just switched. He was telling me how much he loved me, how much he would miss me when he went away. How perfect I am. Suddenly my heart felt so safe again. This was the man I wanted more than anything. He is so kind and so loving. It makes me crazy about him. And it's been like that all weekend. Just feeling so loved and so adored. He really is someone where you have to be so aware that his actions show everything. On Sat night we went Beefeater for dinner and for some reason on the way back my brain flipped and I didn't want to go on the A2. I've never done this to him before and yet he made no issue of it. We went a different way and he rubbed my leg the whole way back. When we got in he just held me for ages. I have never felt so cared for and understood. No words were needed yet all the comfort was there. He has been so tender and so loving. I love him with all my heart. I have had such an amazing weekend with him. Yesterday we went to the lake nearby and had a picnic. And it's just the little things together that mean so much. And again through all the conversations we've had he just seems so baffled I would ever question his love. It's goes to show how differently men and women's brains work. Well and also how much I overthink 🤦‍♀️ All this time I am building this whole case in my head that he doesn't want me yet he's oblivious I am even affected in this way. I am not saying it's all my imagination though. There are def times I could be loved more or the effort could be a bit more, like simply sending a text in the morning which takes 30secs. But ultimately we still belong together. It feels so amazingly perfect with him when everything is like this. I love him so much ❤️

[yoongiseesawmp3]

just about perfect - seonghwa

howdy folks, back with another fic but i’m switching it up on ya! i might start writing regularly for ateez as well so y’all are cool with that right? right.

summary: this is NOT inspired by seonghwa saying he watches nevertheless. why would you even think that.

warnings: not the kind of warning u were expecting but there’s no smut (i know its based off a show abt friends with benefits so that’s why i’m warning u. do not get ur hopes up) a little cussing, a lotta me waxing poetic abt the perfect man park seonghwa. also slight tomfoolery from the teezers

word count: 10.6k

the bookstore just off campus is your current go-to study spot, mostly because the cafe inside has a drink special where you buy one coffee and get a voucher for the new bakery next door. so, let’s just say the past few days you’ve been well caffeinated and well fed. you’re on the way there now, already planning out what your treats are going to be. 

today you were supposed to meet your “study group” after your last class of the day, but it looks like you’re the only one here so far. and you say “study group” loosely, the professor for your music theory elective encouraged everyone to make a study group for the upcoming final and your group of friends chose to work together. there’s been no studying going on, though.

especially not when hongjoong’s new friend seonghwa has been flirting with you literally nonstop. he’s apparently friends with everyone else in your group too. san knows him from an art class they took together last semester, meanwhile wooyoung and yeosang claim they lived on seonghwa’s floor freshman year and he always bought them booze. seonghwa denies it, only because hongjoong would slap him if he admitted to buying alcohol for underage kids. 

tasteful delinquency aside, seonghwa is a fine person. you mean personality fine, not like, fine fine even though san would beg to differ. he knows you’ve developed a thing for seonghwa despite trying not to, and he’s secretly trying to get you two together. 

which is why san suddenly texts you and says he can’t make it, and neither can yeosang or wooyoung. they decided to ditch studying to practice for the final in their dance class instead, so it’ll be just you, seonghwa and hongjoong. and little did you know, hongjoong was trying to do the same thing as san. so we’ll see how this goes. 

- 

“y/n, you can’t do that,” hongjoong warns you, referring to the scale you were trying to fill out. 

“why not?” you ask, looking down at your work and wondering what’s wrong.

“because it’ll sound like shit,” seonghwa replies before sipping his coffee. 

“what he said,” hongjoong agrees, grabbing your paper and erasing some of the notes you had scribbled out. “it should look more like this.”

you glance over at what he’s done on top of your old work and sigh. you took this class because you like music, and you thought learning about how it works would be interesting, but it’s hard. 

“can’t you just do all my work for me?” you plead. at this rate, you don’t think you’ll be able to pass the final. 

“no, i don’t want you dragging me down in this class,” hongjoong replies. “my grades are great.” 

“i hate you.”

“what are you struggling with, y/n?” seonghwa asks as he finally looks up from his laptop. he had been working on an assignment for another class this whole time because he, like hongjoong, is great with music theory. so maybe this study group was a good thing. 

“here, you can switch seats with me,” hongjoong says as he clears the spot next to you on the weathered loveseat. “i’m going to look for a book i should’ve started reading two weeks ago.” 

before you can protest, seonghwa is sliding his laptop across the coffeetable and slides himself into the spot next to you. when he sits you notice your thighs are touching, which is weird because there was plenty of space when hongjoong was here. you don’t know that seonghwa is doing this on purpose, that hongjoon really left so he could flirt with the cute cashier in the cafe to give you and seonghwa some alone time. 

“so,” seonghwa starts once he’s settled. “what are you struggling with?” 

“hmm, all of it?” you reply. your answer makes seonghwa smile, and you like the way his eyes sparkle when he does.

“then i guess we’ll be here a while.”

-

about an hour later, seonghwa has walked you through all the major and minor scales you need to know for the test and you’re starting to understand a little more. you’re still having problems with the back of the study guide where you have to come up with note combinations that can apply to those scales, but you have time to work on that since the final is two weeks out. right now, your brain is fried and you need a break. 

“do you mind if i go get a coffee?” you ask seonghwa, who was in the middle of sending you the minor scale cheat sheet he made. he looks up from his laptop and shakes his head before he speaks.

“i would only mind if i can’t come with you.”

“it’s literally right over there, why do you need to come with me?” you question.

“i think i would just miss you too much,” he pouts, and you roll your eyes. seonghwa shuts his laptop and stands up. “what if i need coffee too?”

“you already had one,” you remind him as you stand.

“yeah,” he nods. “but teaching you is exhausting, so i need another. c’mon.”

he walks ahead of you to the counter, and you’re too busy searching for your wallet to notice he took his jacket off, revealing a sneaky tattoo on the back of his neck. it isn’t until you’re behind him in line that you get a look at the hand drawn star right on the nape of his neck, and you have to refrain from reaching out to trace the lines.

“i didn’t know you had a tattoo,” you decide to say. he turns around and instinctively rubs his hand across the tattoo, smiling at you with those sparkly eyes again.

“yeah, i have a couple,” he replies. “but this one is my favorite.”

“why?”

“because my name means ‘to become a star’, so i like knowing that i have a reminder with me all the time,” he explains.

“nice. it’s really pretty.”

“thanks, so are you.”

“sir?” the barista calls, pulling seonghwa’s attention from you. he steps up to give his order as you stare at the tattoo again, noticing alongside it a couple of freckles that almost make it look like a constellation.

“y/n?” seonghwa’s voice draws you out of your thoughts and you realize he’s finished ordering. “what do you want?”

“oh, i can get it,” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“no, my treat,” he insists, and you sheepishly walk up to the counter to give your order. seonghwa makes a mental note of what you get, and he also snatches the bakery voucher from you before you can put it in your pocket. you make a confused sound and seonghwa laughs. 

“why’d you do that?” you whine.

“you only get to use it if you come with me to the bakery later,” he teases. “say yes or i’m drinking your coffee and getting myself an extra cupcake.”

“fine,” you huff. “but i have an assignment due at midnight, so i can’t stay long.”

“it’s 4pm, that’s not enough time for you to finish it?” he asks while you step out of the way for the next customers.

“i haven’t started yet,” you admit. 

“you like saving things until the last minute, don’t you?”

“what makes you say that?”

“well, it looks like you haven’t been studying music theory at all, and now this,” he shrugs. 

“not everybody can be perfect like you, park seonghwa,” you grumble as the barista places two coffee cups on the bar. you hear seonghwa giggle shortly, and you give him a questioning look.

“so you think i’m perfect?” he smirks.

-

it’s the next day, almost midnight, and you really need spray paint. 

why? well, you’re stressed because you have so much to study for your finals and you don’t know where to start. yes, seonghwa helped yesterday, but he’s not in all your other classes, so you’ve decided you need a break from tearing your hair out over the material you can’t comprehend. the best way to distract yourself from that is to finally paint that dresser you got from a garage sale a few months ago, hence the spray paint. 

thankfully, san is still awake, and he has a car, so you ask him to pick you up for a quick run to the art supply store that’s surprisingly still open. a bonus of going to college in the city, you can get anything almost whenever you need it. 

“thanks for coming to get me,” you tell san as you hop into his car. 

“no problem,” he replies. “i was bored and hongjoong said he needed paint pens so this is a win-win situation. plus, i get to hear about your date with seonghwa yesterday.”

“it was not a date,” you groan, choosing to ignore the suggestive way san is looking at you right now. 

“but you spent the whole afternoon together,” san starts. “he bought you coffee and you went to the bakery together and talked about, like, your favorite colors and stuff. sounds like a date to me.”

“how do you know all that?”

“seonghwa told hongjoong and then hongjoong told me,” he explains as he turns onto the street that’ll take you to the art store. 

“well tell hongjoong that i’m still mad at him for ditching us,” you reply. “and i’m still kinda mad at you and the other two for bailing in the first place.”

“hey, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have had your first date with seonghwa,” san points out.

“it was not a date!” you cry. “we studied most of the time we were together, then he bought my coffee and bullied me into going to the bakery. i couldn’t stay long because i had a paper to write, so we talked about stupid shit until i had to leave.”

“it sounds like the beginning of true love to me,” san sing-songs. 

“stop the car, i’ve decided to walk.”

-

when you get to the store, san separates from you quickly because he sees his friend mingi behind the counter. they’re busy talking while you search the store for the paints, and you’re so busy looking up at the aisle names that you don’t notice you’re about to run into someone. 

“hey-” you start to complain, but you recognize the man you almost bumped into. “oh, seonghwa.”

“y/n,” he smiles at you. “what are you doing out so late?” 

“uh, distracting myself from how small my brain is,” you explain. “what are you doing here?”

“hongjoong needed paint pens,” he says, and you’re about two seconds away from finding san and slapping him. did they really plan this too? 

“why didn’t he come get them?” you ask as you remember what you’re here to find. your eyes scan the aisle behind seonghwa and you spot the paint cans at the end, but he’s in your way.

“i offered,” he says with a shrug.

“you must be a really good friend, then.”

“well you did call me perfect yesterday, so...” he trails off, smirking. you roll your eyes at him but can’t help the blush creeping up your neck. he interrupts his new favorite activity of staring deeply into your eyes (just to fluster you, of course) and he sees that you’re looking past him at the shelves of paint. “you need something down here?” 

“um, yeah, the spray paint,” you reply, awkwardly trying to skirt around him to get into the aisle. he steps aside to let you through, but still follows you as you search for the color you want.

“what are you making?” 

“i’m painting a scuffed up dresser i’ve had for a while, so i want something simple that’ll go with the rest of the things in my room,” you explain as you stop walking and crane your neck to scan the bottles on the top shelf. seonghwa stops behind you and places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches for a can just out of your reach.

“what about this one?” he offers, handing you a can of light blue paint. it’s really pretty, and it’ll stand out with the white furniture you already have, but you really like it.

“oh, that’s perfect!” you say as you take the can from his hands.

“there you go again,” seonghwa teases, and you shoot him a questioning look. he smiles as he responds. “calling me perfect?”

“i said the paint was perfect, weirdo,” you snap. “but thank you for finding this.”

“anytime,” he tells you. “you said your favorite color was blue right?”

“right...” you mumble, thinking back to the conversation you had at the bakery yesterday. “how’d you remember?”

“ugh, i’m hurt!” he exclaims, hand flying to his chest in mock surprise. “i can’t believe you already forgot that it’s my favorite color too.”

“hm, guess i was too distracted by how perfect you are,” you joke. seonghwa laughs at that, a sharp sound that seemed to catch him off guard. he covers his mouth to stifle the sound, but you’re close enough to the cash register now that it draws attention from san and mingi.

“find what you need?” san asks with a shit eating grin.

“hm, just about,” you say as you place the paint on the counter. “couldn’t find a hammer big enough to drop on your head, though.”

“wow, harsh,” san scoffs. “and to think i brought you here out of the goodness of my heart.”

you’re too busy half-bickering with san to notice that seonghwa has paid for your paint and the pens he promised hongjoong. he mumbles something to mingi, who then hands him a piece of paper. he scribbles his number down for you before handing you the can and his number. 

“i gotta go, but i’ll see you later for study group, right?” he confirms. you’re still processing the fact that he keeps buying things for you and you can’t respond in time, so san steps in.

“yeah, y/n will be there,” san assures seonghwa. he nods and shoots you one last smile before he excuses himself and leaves. you’re stuck with san and that stupid grin again. he looks at you and then checks the paper with seonghwa’s number on it. “yep, i think you got what you needed.”

-

even though seonghwa very willingly gave you his number, you’re still afraid to text him. it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s into you the way you’re into him, so you’re fine with just seeing him for study dates. or, uh, not study dates. study gatherings. with just the two of you. because the other guys have bailed, again.

this time, though, you’re not working on music theory. you have an assignemnt due for your ethics class, and you need family and friends to read about your results from this morals test. you wanted san to do it, but he’s currently “chasing a sweet piece of ass,” whatever that means. he’s probably bothering his lab partner that he claims descended from greek gods. you would usually tease him for saying something like that, but it’s a thought you’ve had about seonghwa, so you kept your mouth shut.

anyway, you know you need someone to answer these questions for you, but you can’t bring yourself to ask seonghwa. he kept up his “perfect” demeanor again today, showing up at the bookstore before you so he could get you the coffee you like. you would ask why he keeps doing things like this for you, remembering your favorite color and your coffee order, but you’re afraid he’ll stop if you bring it up. little do you know, every time he learns something new about you, he writes it down in his notes app, keeping a running tab of the things you like.

“y/n?” you hear him ask. his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been staring at him this whole time. the smirk you’ve become so familiar with makes another appearance as he gets ready to tease you. “something on your mind?”

“no, i...no,” you stutter. “i’m just thinking.”

“about what?” he questions as he lifts his coffee cup to his lips. you watch the way he slightly pouts them before taking a sip and you have to stop yourself from staring again.

“just this ethics assignment i want to finish,” you explain. “sorry, i didn’t realize i was staring at you.”

“must be an important assignment,” he nods, leaning forward to put his cup back on the table in front of you. you get another glimpse at the star tattoo on his neck as he does. “because i was definitely staring at you too, and you didn’t even notice.”

“oh?” 

“yep,” he confirms. “i was giving you my best puppy dog eyes and everything.”

“puppy dog eyes?” you ask, unsure of what’s coming. “do you need something?”

“eh, not really,” he shrugs. “i’m just worried.”

“why?”

“you never texted me the other night.”

“after the art store?” you ask incredulously. 

“isn’t that when i gave you my number?” he smirks. 

“i didn’t think you wanted me to text you immediately...”

“well, it’s been three days and i still don’t have your number,” he pouts. 

“hold on a second,” you mumble, reaching for your bag. you fumble around in there, searching for the piece of paper with seonghwa’s number on it as he watches you fondly.

“what are you doing?”

“looking for your number,” you reply like it’s obvious. seonghwa laughs a little and places his hand on your arm to stop you. 

“you do know i’m right next to you, and i could just put my number in myself?” he asks, eyes sparkling as he half-smiles at you. you blush, because no, you weren’t thinking about that. you sheepishly hand him your phone and watch as he adds his number and then texts himself. he gives your phone back and replaces it with his own before asking, “what’s your favorite emoji?”

“um, the smiling cowboy?” you offer, not sure why he’s asking. he laughs again, like he did in the art store, but this time it’s harder for him to quiet the breathy giggles coming from his chest.

“why that one?” he asks, typing something quickly.

“it’s funny,” you shrug. “why?”

“needed something cute to put next to your name, but you’re a weirdo, so it’s not as cute as i was imagining,” he explains, showing you the contact card in his phone. your number is saved as “y/n 🥰🤠” and you can’t help but laugh. you look up at seonghwa, warmth in your eyes, and he starts laughing too.

“see?” you giggle. “it is funny.”

“whatever, at least now i have your number.”

-

after exchanging numbers with seonghwa, you’re starting to let yourself believe little by little that he might feel the same way you do. it’s not anything serious, but there’s definitely something there. the texts he sends are always flirtatious, and it has your heart beating faster every time you get a notification, hoping that it’s him. you’re in the middle of studying for your spanish final when you feel your phone vibrate on the bed next to you, and you smile when you see who it’s from.

seonghwa 🥺💫, 6:28pm: are you busy rn?

you, 6:28pm: not really, just studying

seonghwa 🥺💫: can’t be studying too much if you replied that quickly 🥸

you: what do u want

seonghwa 🥺💫: be nice :-(

you: sorry

you: hi seonghwa, how are you? what do you want.

seonghwa 🥺💫: come get dinner with me? 

you: right now?

seonghwa 🥺💫: no, in 30 years. yes right now 

you: but i’m studying ://

seonghwa 🥺💫: liar!

you: fine, when and where?

seonghwa 🥺💫: i’ll pick you up in ten 🤠

- 

“you sure like staying close to campus, huh?” you ask seonghwa as he walks you about a block from your usual hangout and to a little hole in the wall restaurant that looks like it could seat maybe 20 people, uncomfortably. 

“i know what i like,” he responds with a shrug. “speaking of things i like, you look nice.”

“oh, thank you,” you semi-laugh. you’d been close to panic trying to figure out what to wear (because you’re not sure if this is a date) so you went with something simple, but you’re glad seonghwa likes it. not that you wanted to impress him. but you did, a little. anyway, he looks...well, perfect, wearing black ripped jeans and a velvet-y navy shirt. you continually have to stop yourself from reaching out and stroking his arm just to feel the soft fabric (and maybe his muscles). 

“so i take it you’ve never been here before?” he asks as he hands you a menu. you shake your head no in response. you can’t tell if he’s doing it intentionally, but seonghwa leans closer into your side as he explains. “you pick a main entree, but each dish comes with these sides. they say no substitutes, but i know the guy behind the counter so you can ask for more of something else if you don’t like one of them.”

“i might do that,” you say. “i don’t really want dumplings, so could i get extra sweet potatoes?”

“of course,” he nods, noting the way you smile slightly. it makes your eyes light up, and his heart does a little backflip knowing that he’s the reason for it. well, the sweet potatoes probably are, but he’s the one getting the sweet potatoes, so he’s taking that win for himself. once you both confirm what you want, he places his hand on your back and guides you to the counter.

“hey seonghwa!” the tall guy with a lopsided smile behind the register greets. “long time no see. who’s your friend?”

“hey yunho,” seonghwa smiles back. “this is y/n, a vip, so make sure you give us the good stuff.”

“extra sweet potatoes?” yunho laughs. you and seonghwa both nod as yunho continues taking your order, and you find yourself comfortably leaning into seonghwa as you wait for yunho to calculate the price. before seonghwa can even think about taking his wallet out, you’re handing yunho cash for the food, which makes seonghwa sputter.

“what? y/n, i was going to pay,” he whines, and you simply shake your head.

“nope, my turn,” you tell him. “you’ve bought me coffee too many times.”

“but i asked you out! i don’t want you to pay on our first date if i’m the one who brought you here,” he continues to complain.

“so this is a date?” you confirm, right as yunho asks suggestively “oh, this is a date?”

“yunho, give y/n’s money back,” seonghwa says, ignoring the two of you. “i’m paying.”

“yunho, if you give me that money i’ll be forced to leave and stand seonghwa up for our date,” you say, emphasizing the last word. now you’re glad you wore clean pants.

“seonghwa, why don’t you let y/n pay for this, and then you can get the next one?” yunho suggests, sending you a wink before he turns to the kitchen to share your order with the chef. you’re left with a flustered seonghwa, which is a sight you’re not used to, and it makes you laugh.

“c’mon,” you say as you pull on his arm. “let’s go find a table.”

you’re the only ones in the restaurant, so the food comes out pretty quick, and you have to stifle a laugh when you see that someone has arranged the sweet potatoes on a separate plate in the shape of a heart. seonghwa blushes at this, and you’re taken aback by how shy he’s suddenly become.

for some reason, seonghwa showing signs of nervousness puts you at ease, and you lead the conversation to something stupid san told you about the boys and their shenanigans at their dorm. the story has seonghwa laughing, and he confirms that yes, yeosang does have a sword by the tv, and yes, hongjoong did threaten to use it on him after he lost an intense match of fifa. 

“in hongjoong’s defense,” seonghwa begins, “i do think yeosang cheated. wooyoung was definitely helping him.”

“it still sounds ridiculous,” you tell him. “why does anybody need a sword?”

“yeosang is just...yeosang,” seonghwa replies. “he’s weird but he won’t admit that to anyone.”

“i’m just saying, if i went to someone’s house and there was a katana by the tv, i’d haul my ass outta there.” seonghwa giggles at how serious you look, but this conversation reminds him...

“you never showed me your room,” he says bluntly. you pause for a moment, spoon halfway to your mouth, and seonghwa realizes how that must sound. “i mean, the paint, your dresser. you never showed me a picture once you fixed it up.”

“oh,” you breathe out. “let me grab my phone, i can show you.”

“show him what?” a familiar voice suddenly asks from the seat next to you. when you notice that san, and some of your other friends, have snuck their way into the restaurant, you have to keep yourself from groaning.

“why are you here.”

“i’m hungry,” san replies, then turns to seonghwa. “you didn’t tell us you were getting dinner.”

“i didn’t want to,” seonghwa deadpans. “ i wanted it to be just me and y/n.”

“too late for that, pal,” honjoong says as he slides into the seat across from you. “hi y/n.”

“hey hongjoong,” you grumble. “please tell me you’re getting your food to go.”

“we were, but then we saw our good friends eating all by themselves and thought we should join them,” hongjoong teases. by now, the rest of the boys have sat down around you, some at other tables, and one of them you don’t recognize. that must be jongho, their younger “roommate” who technically lives in first year housing but doesn’t get along with the other guy in his room. you’ve heard seonghwa complain that jongho eats all of his snacks. 

“well, i hope you enjoy your food, but seonghwa and i were just about to leave,” you lie, looking at seonghwa with a stare that pleads ‘please go along with this.’

“where are you going?” wooyoung asks, one table over.

“my apartment,” you respond quickly, standing up as seonghwa follows your cue with a stupidly adorable look on his face.

“oh, perfect!” san chirps. “we’ll come with you!”

- 

so much for your date with seonghwa. it was hard to stop the boys from insisting they all join you at your apartment, especially after yunho said his shift was over and he could really use some destressing. and by destressing he meant booze, so you currently have 8 tipsy boys scattered across your living room. if you thought they were loud before...it’s amazing that your neighbors haven’t complained yet. 

it started off innocent enough, you were just playing card games at first and the loser of each round had to drink. then it turned into never have i ever, and each time you put a finger down you had to drink. then yeosang suggested shots, and it really went downhill from there. san tried convincing everyone to play a round of spin the bottle just for the chance of making you and seonghwa kiss, but mingi and wooyoung were the only ones down, so majority ruled there. 

“san, stop pouting,” you laugh, noticing that he’s upset over his evil plan not working out.

“it’s fine,” he lies, duck lips on full display. 

“spin the bottle is such a tween-y game too,” jongho pipes in. “and we’re adults, so it would be kinda stupid to play it anyway.”

“says the baby of the group,” yeosang scoffs. 

“what about truth or dare?” hongjoong suggests. “still immature, but we can make it fun.”

“yes!” san shouts, suddenly back in a positive mood. 

“i’ll start,” mingi volunteers. he takes a deep breath as he looks around the room, eyes narrowing when he looks at you and seonghwa. you’re currently smushed into your armchair together, not really by choice, because the couch is completely full and neither of you wanted to sit on the floor (you know how dirty it is, and seonghwa has a bad hip). thankfully, mingi has mercy on you and directs his gaze to his best friend. “yunho, truth or dare?”

“truth,” yunho slurs out. you’d say he’s the opposite of stressed by now.

“did you sleep with that girl you met at the party last week?”

“no,” yunho replies quickly, cheeks turning a knowing shade of red. “i just walked her home.”

“and went missing until the next morning?” yeosang asks. he gets a few snickers, and you laugh a little too because you remember san and wooyoung talking about their friend who disappeared for a few hours last weekend.

“whatever,” yunho groans. “yeosang. truth or dare.”

“dare,” yeosang chooses confidently. 

“kiss wooyoung on the cheek.”

“no,” he replies, just as confidently. 

“then take another shot,” yunho concedes, waving his hand at the stubborn boy. wooyoung mumbles something about how kissable he is as yeosang downs what looks like more than just a regular shot.

“this is boring,” jongho whines, which makes him the next target. he chooses dare, and you have to detach yourself from seonghwa so you can go into your kitchen and find the lemon juice in your fridge so jongho can chug what’s left. he’s sputtering after a few sips and gives up, grumbling up to you, “ i hate you for that.”

“hey, it wasn’t my dare,” you defend yourself. “you owe me lemon juice.”

“i’ll give it to you if you choose dare,” jongho challenges. you roll your eyes and take the bait, earning a round of ooo’s from the boys around you. 

“make her kiss seonghwa,” someone hisses.

“or me!” wooyoung chirps. jongho looks over at him with a death glare, and wooyoung shrugs. “i just want someone to want to kiss me.”

“i think you’re cut off,” hongjoong says as he leans across your coffee table to move the bottle away from wooyoung.

“everyone be quiet!” san shouts. “jongho has to give y/n a dare.”

“hmmm,” jongho starts, tapping his finger on his chin. “what should i do?”

“for someone who said this was boring, you’re really milking this,” seonghwa says under his breath. you’re perched on the arm of the chair, close enough to hear him, but thankfully no one else does.

“what’s that other childish game called?” jongho wonders aloud. “seven minutes in heaven? i think you should do that with seonghwa.”

“do i have to?” you pout, and your reluctance makes seonghwa stiffen. he thinks you said that because you’re uncomfortable, and not because you don’t want the boys pressing their ear up to the door while the two of you make out.

“rules are rules,” hongjoong concludes, nodding his head toward your room. “go have fun. i’ll keep the kids from bothering you.”

you look to seonghwa, who isn’t looking directly at you. you tentatively take his hand, giving it a squeeze before you stand up and lead him to your room. there are so many catcalls, whistles and cheers coming from your friends that you barely hear san say “take your time! it doesn’t have to be just seven minutes!”

once you get to your room, you let seonghwa go in first and then you lock the door behind you. he quirks an eyebrow at that, and you shrug shyly. 

“don’t want one of them bursting in,” you explain. seonghwa nods, and you both fall silent. it’s not necessarily awkward, just tense. you both want to do what seven minutes in heaven is meant for, but you’re not gonna make the first move and seonghwa still isn’t sure you even want to be in this situation. so he takes this time to turn around and take your room in, pointing to your dresser.

“is this it?” he asks. you hum out a yes in response, and he runs his hand over the freshly painted wood. “it looks nice. whoever picked out the color sure knows what he’s doing.”

“eh, he’s just lucky,” you joke, and you both laugh. you move to stand next to him and place your hand on top of his. “sorry we couldn’t finish our date.” 

“sorry my friends are so annoying,” seonghwa adds. 

“sorry san pushed me into your lap earlier,” you continue, and seonghwa smirks.

“well, i didn’t mind that,” he says. “i wanted you to sit with me, but i didn’t want to draw attention.”

“oh,” you squeak, feeling a blush on its way to your cheeks. a heavy silence falls over you, and seonghwa is the first to break it.

“listen, if you don’t want to kiss me, that’s cool,” he begins. “i kinda got the vibe earlier that you didn’t want to do this, and that’s cool. if you don’t want to do this we’re still cool.”

“you don’t sound very cool about it,” you chuckle, and seonghwa’s face flushes. “but i was only nervous because i didn’t know if you wanted to kiss me.”

“oh i want to kiss you,” he says firmly. “have for a while.”

“why don’t you do it then?” you challenge. seonghwa takes a step closer to you, and before you know it he’s pinned you against your dresser. you balance your hands on it and the cool wood helps you ground yourself as your body heats up from having seonghwa so close.

“are you sure?” he asks, only a few inches from your face. you nod and whisper out “i’m sure” and seonghwa quickly cups your face and smothers you in a kiss. it starts off slow, and your face warms at his touch. once you relax into it you move your lips against his, nipping at his bottom lip slightly and earning a groan from the man before you. you take the chance to slip your tongue past his lips as you bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, slowly brushing through his soft hair. his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly but not too hard, and he leans in to get as close to you as possible. you keep kissing for a few moments, but eventually you need to breathe so you lightly tap on his neck. he pulls back, breathing heavy, and his smile shines like the most beautiful stars in the sky. “so?”

“so?” you repeat, equally out of breath.

“that was nice.”

“it was.”

“the boys are gonna know we made out.”

“of course they are,” you laugh. “your lips look swollen.”

“so do yours,” he counters. 

“but wasn’t that the whole point of us coming in here?” you ask. your hands have fallen to his chest, and you finally get a chance to smooth out the soft velvet of his shirt. and you notice his chest is very, uh, firm, too.

“we didn’t have to kiss,” he says with a shrug. “we could’ve just talked.”

“about what?” you ask with a smile.

“my keen eye for interior design,” he replies. “how sexy you look in low lighting.”

“so you think i’m sexy?” you tease, and seonghwa rolls his eyes.

“i just had my tongue in your mouth, does that answer your question?”

another silence comes over you both, but this one is lighter than before. you’re subconsciously rubbing your hands over his shirt, and seonghwa brings a hand up to cover yours, stopping it right over his heart.

“we don’t have to tell them,” you offer. “i mean, they kept it a secret from us that they were trying to get us together this whole time.”

“oh no, i was fully aware of that,” seonghwa tells you, and you scoff. “do you think i really wanted to get out past midnight just to buy hongjoong some expensive markers? he never even paid me for them.”

“well now i really don’t want to tell them we kissed,” you whine. “how could everyone be in on this except me?”

“it was more fun that way,” seonghwa teases before pecking your lips. “but we can keep this between us, for now.”

“i think we should,” you say with a nod of finality. “it’s more fun that way.”

“c’mon, let’s go back out there before they send a search party.”

you return to the living room before seonghwa (so he can sneak into the bathroom and fix his hair) and you find most of the boys asleep on the floor. you sigh as your eyes meet hongjoong’s, and he shrugs.

“at least they didn’t bother you,” he says. 

“can you help me find pillows and blankets for them, please?” you ask, and he nods before jumping into action. he throws one of the couch pillows down to yeosang, who takes it and hugs it to his chest. you have a couple extras in your hall closet and you pass them to yunho, who’s sitting up when you come back. he places one under mingi and another under jongho and keeps the last one for himself. san and wooyoung are on the couch, and hongjoong tells you he’s fine with the armchair. seonghwa is out of the bathroom by now, and, like the perfect man he is, he’s carrying blankets in his arms. the three of you work on getting all the boys covered before you realize that seonghwa doesn’t have a place to sleep.

“i can take another spot on the floor,” he assures you. “do you have another pillow i can use?”

“let him sleep in your room, y/n,” san mumbles from underneath wooyoung. you pause and look at seonghwa, who’s looking back at you with something you can’t read in his eyes. 

“it’s not a bad idea,” hongjoong pipes in from somewhere within the blanket cocoon he made for himself. “he was just there. you can put him on the floor.”

“y/n?” seonghwa asks, pulling your attention back to him. “i don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” 

you would try to fight it, so you could hopefully ignore taunts from the boys in the morning, but you’re suddenly really tired and you just want to lay down.

“i’m ok with it if you are,” you yawn. “take the rest of those blankets, we can use those for your bed.”

“make good choices,” honjoong mumbles as seonghwa leads you back to your room, and you hear san going “oooooo” as you close your door a second time tonight. this time you don’t lock it though, and when you turn around you see the blankets on the floor and seonghwa sprawled out on your usual side of the bed, so you tell him.

“well why don’t you come join me then?” he teases with a grin. you blush and shake your head.

“scoot over.”

he does, but only by an inch. he still looks at you with that flirty glint in his eyes, and you can only shake your head again as you crawl into the tiny space next to him. he immediately wraps an arm around your waist and gives you a tight hug, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

“thank you,” he whispers into your back.

“for what?” you reply.

“for not putting me on the floor. and for liking me.”

-

you just woke up from maybe the best night of sleep you’ve ever had. seonghwa’s arms and legs are draped over yours, so you can’t get up without waking him, but having him so close is a welcome source of warmth. your apartment is quiet, and the sun is peacefully filtering into your room through your curtain. it’s the perfect moment, with your perfect boy, until- 

“i think they’re still asleep,” you hear someone whisper from the hallway.

“wooyoung, leave them alone!” another voice hisses. there’s silence for a moment, and then a smack, followed by someone jiggling the doorknob to your room. you quickly untangle yourself from seonghwa before you watch as the door cracks open a bit, revealing wooyoung in all his bed-headed glory. you close your eyes as much as you can while still peeking at who’s sneaking into your room, and you see jongho close behind him. he must’ve been the one who got smacked. or did the smacking. either way, they’re both staring at you and seonghwa in your bed, but you notice wooyoung smile and pause.

“i knew it! they definitely got together last night.”

“how do you know?” jongho asks. “maybe y/n let seonghwa sleep on the bed because of his old man hips.”

“whatever. they’re in the same bed, so that’s at least something,” wooyoung replies. “lame, but still something.”

“what did you expect?” jongho asks incredulously. “you thought we would catch them doing it?”

“i mean, not exactly, but couldn’t i get a little cuddling maybe?”

“you want me to cuddle you hyung?” jongho deadpans.

“yes, actually-”

“hey!” a third voice whisper shouts. you hear footsteps and then you see hongjoong pulling wooyoung out of your room by the neck of his shirt. “leave them alone. and you, jongho, i’m surprised you’re playing along with this.”

“well...” jongho mumbles.

“well what?” hongjoong asks, sounding like the mom-est mom to ever mom.

“they’re the only ones that know how to make breakfast.”

“both of you, out! now!” hongjoong semi-shouts, and you feel seonghwa stirring behind you. hongjoong doesn’t realize you’re both awake and closes the door as he leaves.

“what time is it?” seonghwa grumbles out, and your heart skips a beat hearing how deep his voice is when he wakes up.

“early,” you reply, turning around to be face to face with him. his arms slowly snake around you as you look up at him and share a sleepy smile. “how can you look this good when you first wake up?”

“weird, i wanted to ask you the same thing,” seonghwa replies, leaning in to kiss you but you touch your fingers to his lips and stop him, so he pouts. 

“uh uh, not until i brush my teeth,” you say as you try to get up, but seonghwa’s grip on your waist keeps you down.

“please,” he pouts again, sparkly eyes on full display as he pleads with you. it takes about half a second for you to cave and kiss him quickly, catching him off guard. he shifts to pull you on top of him and deepen the kiss, but he loses his grip on you and you’re able to slip out of bed before he can stop you. a noise comes from deep in his chest that almost sounds like a growl, and you shoot him a glare.

“hey, you got your kiss,” you warn. “now i’m going to make breakfast for the gremlins. do you want to help me?”

-

after the intrusion into your bedroom, wooyoung obviously told the boys what he saw. but, like jongho said, most of them thought it was just because of seonghwa’s hips that made you share a bed with him. there wasn’t enough evidence otherwise, and none of them really expected either of you to make a move despite their efforts. but they’re starting to get suspicious.

little do they know, after the set up fell into place, seonghwa wanted to take you on a real date. the only way to do that without your friends knowing was to sneak around without them, which was kind of fun. it was nice having this bubble with seonghwa, just the two of you, but it was getting harder to avoid your friends. seonghwa lived with them after all, so they pestered him about how often he was out and who he might be out with. 

“san keeps asking if you’re a good kisser. i told him i didn’t know, and then he asked if he could find out for me. should i be concerned about that?”

“we need to be more careful, yeosang said he saw us at the taco place yesterday, and he said we hold hands weird.”

“hongjoong has been saving seats for us at the bookstore, and each time we don’t show up i think he steals something from me.”

you have been ditching study group lately, but that’s more because you need to do some deep studying for your other finals and your friends are too much of a distraction. seonghwa can be distracting too, but at least he can take a hint and back down when you really need to focus. it’s been nice actually, just spending time in his presence. you were so nervous around him just a few weeks ago, and now you feel like you could trust him with just about anything.

today, you don’t get any personal study time, though. your music theory final is coming up and seonghwa wants you to get all the terms memorized before the review session in class tomorrow. he’s motivating you with a kiss for each right answer and the promise of him making dinner once you’re done. you’re currently cruising on five wrong in a row, and you’re getting frustrated. 

“c’mon y/n, you know this,” seonghwa encourages you, but you just whine in response. “we did this like four minutes ago, and i told you the answer so you could remember it.”

“yeah, well i obviously didn’t,” you snap, and seonghwa fakes being hurt. “sorry. can we skip this and come back to it?”

“sure,” he agrees quickly. “but first you need to write down the circle of fifths for me.” 

“i hate you.”

“hm, wrong answer,” he hums. “but kiss anyway. maybe that’ll keep you from getting so grumpy.”

“i am not grumpy,” you defend after kissing him gently. “i’m stressed.”

“you know what you need?”

“hm?”

“you need to go on another date,” he begins. “with me, obviously.”

“damn, i wanted to know if yunho was free,” you tease, and seonghwa doesn’t think it’s funny. “now who’s grumpy?”

“ignoring that,” he scoffs, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile. 

“when would we go? i’m really busy the next few days.”

“what about after class? we could both clean up and do something nice before we get some dinner?” seonghwa suggests. “why don’t we go to that art exhibit you told me about?”

“ugh,” you groan as you learn your head on his shoulder. “that sounds amazing, but we both said we’d be at study group tomorrow, remember? hongjoong practically begged me to be there, and i said i would ask you to come.”

“what about not letting them know we’re a thing?” he pouts. you don’t tell him about the youngest two that saw you all cuddled up, but instead you assure him that you inviting him to study group wouldn’t look unusual to the boys.

“plus, if we both cancel last minute, they’d know for sure we were up to something together,” you continue. “so yes, we need to go on another date, but just not tomorrow.”

“fine,” he mumbles. “now i am grumpy.”

“would something from the cafe make it better, my little boba ball?” you ask in a baby voice.

“ooh, actually, boba sounds good,” seonghwa smiles. “let’s go.”

-

the next day you get to the bookstore late because your professor gave a pop quiz at the end of class and you’ve been so busy studying music theory you forgot to study for anything else, so you needed all the time you could get. when you finally arrive, all of the boys are there, surprisingly. since you’ve never seen yunho, mingi and jongho here before you’re a little confused, but happy to see them nonetheless. 

as you walk up to the usual spot, you notice a coffee cup sitting in front of an empty chair, and you point to it as the boys greet you.

“is this for me?” you ask, placing your bag on the ground before grabbing the warm mug. “thank you, coffee angel.”

“you’re welcome, actual angel,” seonghwa replies, and you almost choke on your first sip. what is he doing?? you’re supposed to be sneaky sneaks and keep your relationship quiet, but here he is flirting with you in front of everyone!

except, that’s what he did before you started dating too, so it’s not out of the ordinary. in fact, no one pays any mind to it, so you’re left with a burnt tongue and blushy cheeks while seonghwa looks at you with a stare that only you would understand. you quickly shoot him a wink before you put your mug down and reach for your notes.

“um, hello? what are you guys doing?” you ask yeosang next to you, who’s rabidly tapping at his phone, just like everyone else. if they weren’t distracted they might have picked up on the vibes between you and seonghwa, but thankfully they’re the oblivious ones now.

“playing a game,” half of them respond, just as hongjoong says “writing lyrics” and jongho mumbles “texting my mom.”

“aren’t we supposed to study?” you ask. “or did you already learn everything in the world while i was gone?”

“well you’ve missed a lot of study sessions, y/n,” san begins. “so yes, we have learned everything. now we just come here to hang out.”

“so then why did you insist on me being here, joong?” you ask newly orange-haired hongjoong. it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, he must’ve dyed it recently. 

“we missed hanging out with you,” he says simply, eyes peeking up from his phone. your heart constricts at this, and you catch seonghwa’s eyes again. you might have to rethink the whole sneaking around thing if they really do miss you.

“yeah, we missed you AND we had to make sure you and seonghwa are still spending time together,” wooyoung adds, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“where have you been anyway?” yeosang asks. “you don’t have other friends.”

“yes i do,” you scoff.”

“give me names and numbers.”

“ignore him,” yunho tells you, and you nod.

“i always do. but i’ve been really stressed about finals, so i had to do some soul searching on my own to decide if i need to graduate or not.”

“seems fair,” mingi agrees. “i almost had to drop a class.”

“because he forgot he was even enrolled in it,” jongho clarifies, and you laugh.

“but seonghwa has been missing a lot lately too,” san starts. “i wonder what he’s been doing.”

“or who,” wooyoung snickers, and hongjoong reaches over mingi to slap him.

“i haven’t been feeling well,” seonghwa says with a shrug. “i’ve mostly been in my room, or at the pharmacy to get medicine.”

“oh, so you could’ve bought new paper towels for the dorm then, huh?” hongjoong asks, and as the two of them start to bicker, yeosang nudges your arm.

“i saw you two,” he says quietly. “at the mexican restaurant.”

“i know,” you whisper back. 

“so i know you’re dating.”

“are you gonna say anything?”

“hmmm, no,” he thinks. “but you have to buy my silence.”

“with coffee?” you offer, and yeosang smiles. he stands up and puts his phone away before speaking, looking directly at seonghwa.

“my best friend y/n is gonna buy me coffee, we’ll be back,” he says as he loops his arm around your shoulders. seonghwa watches as you walk away (and stares at your ass) but he’s mostly thinking about how he’s a little jealous right now. like, he knows you wouldn’t do anything, he trusts you, but he doesn’t want his friends thinking you have a thing for anyone but him. so while you’re gone, he talks.

“i haven’t been sick,” he admits. “i’ve been seeing y/n.”

“we all knew, dude,” hongjoong says casually, and everyone agrees.

“then why didn’t you say anything?!”

“because YOU weren’t saying anything,” jongho replies.

“yeah, we figured that we did enough trying to get the two of you together, so if you didn’t end up dating then that was your fault. we were just waiting on you to make a move,” san explains. 

“then why did you let us lie to you like that?”

“it was fun,” wooyoung shrugs. “by the way, did y/n let you sleep in the bed because of your hips, or because you wanted to cuddle?”

the red tint on seonghwa’s cheeks gives him away, and the boys start laughing and ooo’ing so loud he’s afraid you’ll hear it over by the coffee counter.

“ok, ok, just. keep this quiet for now,” he says. “y/n may still want this to be private.”

“but you just told us about it,” yunho says. “why would you do that if you knew y/n wouldn’t want you to?”

“well,” seonghwa begins. “i need your help with a date.”

-

seemingly by an act of god, you have time this weekend to go on a date with seonghwa. little did you know, he’s the reason your plans suddenly freed up. san said you could critique him and wooyoung for their dance final another day, hongjoong said he would send you his music theory notes from the review and save you hours of studying and then yeosang found the exact spanish book you needed to finish your performance final ahead of time. it was the perfect circumstances, orchestrated by your perfect boy and his perfect-adjacent friends, who all agreed to help him with this (hopefully) perfect date. 

it starts with seonghwa picking you up from your apartment, coffee in hand. 

“you’re the man of my dreams, you know that?” you say in passing as you grab the warm to-go cup. even if you were only saying it lightly, it made seonghwa’s heart soar. you notice he hasn’t said anything to you, so you meet his eyes to find them full of stars like always, but this time there’s something scheme-y in there. he’s up to something.

“are you ready for the best date of your life?” he asks with a smile that puts the stars in his eyes to shame.

“yes, i think,” you respond, grabbing your keys and locking your door. “but i don’t know what we’re doing.”

“and it will stay that way until we get there,” seonghwa says firmly as he laces his hand into yours. you squeeze his hand and sigh.

“i guess i just have to trust you then.”

“but that won’t be hard right?”

“wait, didn’t you say something earlier about going to that art exhibit? is that it?” you question, even though you know he won’t budge. seonghwa just shakes his head no and punches the button for the elevator. a moment of silence passes before you guess again. “a movie? you rented out a movie theater, like you said you wanted to?”

“i tried, but it was expensive,” he admits and you have to laugh. “funds are tight right now.”

“i watched you buy a couple hundred dollars worth of legos the other day babe. maybe that’s why the date fund is lacking.”

“you’re not coming between me and my collectables, y/n,” seonghwa scolds. the elevator pings to open to the parking garage under your building, and you’re confused for a moment before he explains. “i want this to be a nice date, so yunho let me borrow his car. it would be no fun if we show up all sweaty because we were walking.”

yunho’s car, which is actually pretty nice thanks to all the tips he gets from flirting with clientele, is parked by the elevator. seonghwa leads you to your door and opens it for you, revealing a basket of flowers and candies in the seat. you coo as you pick it up, and seonghwa looks on proudly. you lean over to give him a kiss, and you whisper your thanks as you pull away.

“that was mingi’s idea,” seonghwa tells you, smiling brightly “i got all your favorites.”

“i see that.”

“but look around the flowers,” he guides you. “there’s something else.”

you hold the basket up to eye level, noticing the silver sparkle around the stems of the flowers. is it glitter? you tug at a flower and realize it’s a chain, and attached is a hand drawn star charm to match the tattoo on the back of seonghwa’s neck. 

“seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you say breathlessly. “we’re gonna match! that’s so cute. who’s idea was this?”

“would you believe me if i said it was mine?”

“no.”

“that’s what jongho said too,” seonghwa laughs. “it was his idea.”

“tell him thank you,” you say as you play with the charm. “mingi and yunho too. it’s a good date so far.”

“oh baby, it hasn’t officially started yet.”

-

in the car, seonghwa plays a mix of songs that he really likes, and he’s mixed in some of your favorites too. he has to keep convincing you that the songs aren’t clues, because you ask every time a new song plays.

“so are the songs just distractions?” you ask, finally giving up on getting any information out of him. 

“why do you ask that?” he smirks as he turns down a familiar road.

“because i can tell you just took the long way to the record store,” you explain. “are you stalling?”

“me, what? why?” his response does nothing to manage your suspicions, and suddenly you remember how your friends have helped with the date so far. are they all in on this? you need answers.

“seonghwa, i swear to god, if san or wooyoung jumps out to surprise me wherever we’re going-”

“that won’t happen,” seonghwa laughs while he parks the car. “we’re here anyway, and i promise this is the last surprise of the night.”

“the record store?” you question, looking up at the shop you’ve been to countless times to shop and to bother hongjoong while he works. 

“yeah, you said there was a new album out you wanted to get, right?”

“yeah,” you blush. “but i just said that in passing, i didn’t expect you to remember.”

“y/n, i want to know everything about you,” seonghwa says seriously. “so of course i remembered. wait, don’t get out yet. i’ll open the door for you.”

as seonghwa helps you out of the car, you quiz him on the other things you’ve said around him that you didn’t think he remembered. sadly, he does remember you saying your favorite disney movie is ratatouille and you’ve always wanted to try the mushroom/cheese concoction remy makes in the first scene.

“that’s a little embarrassing,” you sigh as you reach for the door. you’re going to complain some more about how seonghwa doesn’t need to remember everything about you, but the sight in front of you makes you stop mid-breath.

the record store has been decorated from floor to ceiling in fairy lights, and there’s more flowers all over the place. as you look around, you notice the flowers are tucked in the shelves next to your favorite artists. next to the door is the album you were talking about, and a little further down you see your favorite album of all time with a few extra flowers next to it. you’re still taking everything in when you notice hongjoong behind the counter.

“did you help him with this?” you ask breathlessly, and hongjoong nods. 

“yeah, but the flowers next to the albums was my idea,” hongjoong explains. “we’re running a new special called “y’n’s favorites” so everything that’s marked with a flower is yours, if you want it. everything is on the house.” 

“i...i don’t know what to say,” you start. you turn to seonghwa and there are those starry eyes that you love to see. you reach out to cup his face and smile. “thank you. this is...perfect.”

“it’s even more perfect now that i’m here!” wooyoung shouts from the front door of the shop, followed by san and yeosang. you look at seonghwa and all he does is laugh.

“what? at least he didn’t jump out and scare you,” seonghwa teases.

“oh, i would never,” wooyoung nods with a half-serious look on his face. “but i definitely wouldn’t do that when i have your dinner in my hands, i can’t let all this hard work spill.”

“especially not on my clean floor,” hongjoong warns. 

“you made dinner for us?” you ask wooyoung, but you’re looking at seonghwa, who simply shrugs.

“yep, i made one of your favorites and then threw in a couple recipes i thought you’d both like,” wooyoung says as he and the two other boys place food down on the counter by the register.

“and what did you two help with?” you ask san and yeosang.

“who do you think made this place so beautiful?” yeosang asks incredulously.

“yeosang did the lights and i bought all the flowers,” san explains with a smile that makes his eyes turn into happy half moons. “you’d be surprised how many places i had to go to get all your favorites.”

“i really don’t know what to say,” you whisper in disbelief. “i can’t believe you all did this for me.”

“it was all seonghwa’s idea,” san tells you. “we did it for both of you.”

“yeah, we’re just his little minions,” yeosang jokes, and wooyoung giggles. 

“you tell me how that food tastes, got it?” he asks as he backs out of the store. “don’t say anything mean though. i only accept compliments.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa smiles tightly. “please leave.”

wooyoung holds the door open for san and yeosang as he gives seonghwa a thumbs up. san waves goodbye sweetly and yeosang gives you a knowing smile before the door closes behind them.

“well, i think that’s my cue to go,” hongjoong says, handing the keys to seonghwa. “don’t make a mess. if i get fired, i’m selling all the stuff i stole from you when you were sneaking around with y/n and not telling us about it.”

“i’ll keep him under control,” you assure hongjoong, who nods as heads to the door. you don’t see him leave because seonghwa has stepped in front of you, and he places his hands on your waist to pull you closer.

“so,” he begins.

“so.”

“what do you want to listen to while we eat?” he asks, pulling you by the waist over to a row of records. you stand there quietly, looking over the albums hongjoong pulled to the front for you, and you just can’t believe how much work went into this date. you can’t believe how sweet it is that each of your friends helped, and you put your hand on seonghwa’s and give it a squeeze.

“hwa,” you whisper. he hums in response, but you place your hand on his cheek and guide his gaze to yours.

“thank you,” you tell him. “thank you for this.”

he smiles at you with a look in his eyes that can’t be anything else but love, and you smile back with that much love, if not more, in your own face. you use the hand on seonghwa’s chin to guide his lips to yours, and you lose yourself in the kiss, in seonghwa, for who knows how long.

“mm, y/n,” he mumbles against your lips before detaching. “the food will get cold.”

“you’re right,” you sigh. “but we didn’t pick any music.”

“how about this?” he asks, pulling an album out from the top shelf. you smile at the cover, knowing exactly what song seonghwa wants you to hear. 

“perfect,” you agree. “i’ll put it on while you get the food?”

and that’s how you end up eating the perfect meal, on your perfect date, with all of your favorite things around you, sitting right next to your perfect boy.

[patt-writes-stuff]

Pink (Hawks x gn!Reader)

Pairing: Hawks/Takami Keigo x gn! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: cursing but that’s about it!

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, Romantic/Relationship

Tags/Aus: boss x secretary, pining, slow burn, slight cannon divergence probably

Summary: 5 times your boss, Hawks, made you flustered + the one time you made him flustered

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! This is my fic for the Attack on Academia server’s Secret Santa Event!! This is for @sugacookiies​ !! and I really hope you like it!!! 

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

“Thank you so much for coming today, we’ll be sure to get back to you soon,” the lady who had been interviewing you said, smiling at you. You bowed your head slightly, thanking her for her time with a small smile on your face.

After exiting the room and closing the door, you took a deep breath, as if to calm your still very present nerves. You had been up for a job as a secretary at pro hero Hawk’s agency, something you were more than thrilled about.  

Growing up, you’d always been immensely intrigued with the world of pro heroes. Your room had been decked out in hero figurines and posters, the whole nine yards. Hell, even your comforter was hero themed at a certain point in time. It had just always fascinated you how these people would use their quirks for the good of humanity and to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Sadly, your quirk, MoodLocks, wasn’t very useful in crime-fighting. All it did was allow your hair to change colors depending on your mood. It was pretty, of course, but you had a hard time controlling it and it could never help you beat an opponent. If anything, it would give the villain an insight into your thoughts and put you at a clear disadvantage.

So, as time passed, your childish fantasies of becoming a hero did as well. It didn’t bother you anymore, as you were more than happy with the career you’d chosen. Your love of heroes was still very much present, hence why you were so nervous about today’s interview. If you got the job, not only would the pay be incredible, but you’d also get the chance to help an actual hero. Maybe you’d even get the chance to meet more of them!

You were pretty sure you had made a fairly good impression so hopefully, you would indeed get a call from the agency soon.

Walking out of the agency, you couldn’t help but let out a yawn. You’d stayed up far too late last night googling commonly asked job interview questions so you wanted nothing more than to get back to your apartment and catch up on some much-needed rest. Maybe you and your roommate could order in.

“Oh God, I am so sorry that was my fault. I just finished this super stressful interview and I’m super tired so I was not watching where I was going-” your babbling came to a sudden halt as you looked up, brain losing all ability to form coherent thoughts.

Right before your very eyes was the man who’s “a bit too fast” in all his red-winged glory. You’d seen him in interviews online, of course, you kept up with most pro hero interviews, so you knew he was handsome. However, the cameras most certainly did not do the man justice. His yellow glasses were resting on his forehead, pushing his messy (and very soft looking) blond hair back. His gold eyes seemed to be looking right into your soul, calculating yet calm.

God, you wished you could make your eyeliner look remotely similar to his.

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you realized that you’d been staring for what you could only describe as an uncomfortably long amount of time.

Before you could embarrass yourself further, the winged hero placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. He looked at the top of your head, an intrigued expression adorning his face before morphing into an easy smile, he spoke, “‘S no problem, chickadee. Good luck with your interview.”

And just like that, the hero went along his merry way.

Curious what he’d been staring at, not to mention the nickname, you looked up at your hair, which had previously been a bright shade of orange due to being anxious, was now very pink. You blanched at the thought of having lost control of your quirk so easily, in front of a cute guy pro hero who might be your future boss no less.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘at least I can say I met Japan’s #2 hero even if I don’t get this job.’

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 2

Much to your surprise, and pleasure, you had indeed received a call from Hawks’ agency about a week later. After several follow up interviews (much more than you were expecting, honestly, but you suppose it made since he’s such a high ranking hero) a very thorough background check, you had gotten the job.

When you had gotten the job, you had been hoping that the blond would have forgotten your first encounter, since you had literally malfunctioned right before his very eyes. The chances of him forgetting weren’t exactly small, after all. You were sure he met plenty of people every day and your interaction had been incredibly brief.

A month into your job as his secretary, you seemed to be in the clear. Sure, he knew about your quirk, since he was your employer and the ever-changing array of colors in your hair aren’t exactly subtle, but seeing as he hadn’t mentioned it so he’d probably forgotten.

You’d stayed at the agency long after your shift was overdue to a couple of low-ranking villains attempting to rob a bank. It had been an easy win for Hawks, he was in and out of there long before his sidekicks had even gotten there, but the villains had caused a lot of unnecessary damage to the building, so there was a ridiculous amount of paperwork.

You couldn’t wait to get home and change out of your stuffy work clothes and into the comfiest pair of PJs you owned. Your roommate, always a sweetheart, had been kind enough to save you some leftovers from her dinner so all you had to do was warm it up, eat, shower, and crash on your bed.

Whilst you were getting ready to head home, your boss had decided that it was only fair to walk you home, seeing as it was late. You had insisted that he didn’t need to do that, even showing him the can of pepper spray you carried around your person at all times. Still, he’d insisted, and who were you to say no?

The winged hero had originally offered to fly you home, but you’d profusely told him it wasn’t necessary. So, the two of you ended up taking the train. The two of you got a couple of weird stares from your fellow passengers, seeing as the flying hero was taking a train instead of y’know… flying and his wings took a significantly large part of the seat the two of you were occupying (it seemed uncomfortable but he didn’t mention it). Hawks seemed to either not notice or not care, opting instead to have an animated conversation with you about the best fried chicken places in Fukuoka. It was mostly him talking, but you’d add to the conversation every once in a while, and sometimes people would interrupt and ask for an autograph, which he’d sign with a carefree smile on his face.

“You don’t have to walk me home, sir,” you told him after the two of you had exited the station closest to your apartment.

“What kind of hero would I be if I let a civilian walk alone across the dark streets of Japan?” He asked you, tone light and teasing. “Also, didn’t I tell you to call me Hawks? Sir makes me feel old.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his words, turning to the left towards your apartment. You’d get there soon and a small part of you wanted to keep the banter going for as long as possible.

“I don’t think that would be very professional of me, sir,” you said playfully. He laughed and the two of you settled into a comfortable silence while you walked.

After a moment, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and he spoke up, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how exactly does your quirk work?”

“Oh well, y’know, it changes color depending on my mood, so red means I’m angry, blue can mean I’m sad or calm, pink means I’m flustered or embarrassed, purple means I’m scared, etc.”

“So your hair went pink the first time we met because you were starstruck by my devilishly good looks?” He asked in a faux haughty tone. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

The asshole remembered your first encounter.

Your hair turned pink and you celebrated inwardly as you approached your apartment. As you opened the glass door to the complex, Hawks laughed at your hurry.

“Good night,” you stated, tone indignant at his laughter, as you made your way inside.”

“‘Night, Pinky.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 3

Working for the red-winged hero himself was both everything you were expecting it to be and completely the opposite of it at the same time.

The hours were crazy, something you were anticipating considering villain activity had been increasing and your boss was a busy public figure. What you were certainly not anticipating, however, was that Hawks would be such a teasing little shit.

Not only had the man remembered your first encounter, but after you had explained your quirk to him (he’d asked you about it despite it being in the agency’s records since you had applied for the position, you guessed he’d done it as a way to break the ice) he’d taken it upon himself to fluster you to get your hair to go that embarrassingly bright shade of pink.

He’d call you all sorts of nicknames ranging from pinky to songbird (your favorite was by far Pinky since it feels so personal. Not that you’d ever tell him that). He’d also gotten into the habit of trying out all sorts of ridiculous pick up lines on you. The greater majority of them were bird-related, of course. Those never really got you but they did make you laugh.

The one that probably got you the most was when he’d bring you your favorite drink or lunch from a place you’d mentioned you’d like offhandedly, saying he had just been “flying by” and remembered your conversation.

You didn’t mind his flirtatious banter in the slightest. He never crossed any boundaries and kept things professional when it came to business. It was pretty fun to see what nicknames or pickup lines he had up his sleeves.

The only downside was that you’d begun to develop a slight crush on the red-winged hero. It would never lead to anything, you were well aware of that. He was not only a famous hero who was constantly under public scrutiny, but he was also your boss.

It can’t hurt to dream though.

“What’s got you so distracted?” An all too familiar broke your very him-centric train of thought. You looked up from the paperwork you’d been blankly staring at. You’d been trying to multitask between eating and doing paperwork so you wouldn’t have to take any work home. After much insistence from your roommate, who was well aware of your crush on Your boss (she’d teasingly gifted you a pair of Hawks themed PJs on your birthday), you had finally given in and agreed to let her set you up on a date with a former schoolmate of hers.

“Nothing, just thinking about a date I have tonight,” you lied, looking up from your desk to meet those lovely honey-colored eyes you spent more hours than you’d care to admit thinking about. You scanned his body language, trying to gauge his reaction. Not that you could ever get a read on him. More often than not, it was impossible to get a read on him under the visage of carefree indifference he was so well known for. In the almost half a year you’d known him you’d never once seen the hero lose his cool or show any emotion other than the ones he wanted to portray. It was kind of unfair seeing as he could get a picture-perfect look into your thoughts and emotions just by looking at the color of your hair and here you were, left grasping at straws.

He seemed to have no outward reaction other than his shoulders tensing and his eyebrows scrunching up a bit in mild distaste. It was gone so fast you were sure you must have just imagined it.

“Pinky’s got themselves a date?” he said after a moment, a slightly forced teasing tilt to his voice. He crossed his hands and placed them on the taller part of your desk and leaned his weight on them, staring down at you with a cheeky grin.

“I guess so,” you said, fiddling with your chopsticks as you continued, “I’m kind of nervous though. I haven’t got on any dates since I started working here, I’m a little rusty.”

“How come you haven’t gone on any dates?” he asked, staring at you with an intensity you weren’t quite expecting from him. “Had a special someone in mind?”

The roots of your hair went white in surprise before you managed to school them into going back to your natural hair color. It was brief but he had surely noticed.

“I’d go on lots of dates if my boss gave me more days off,” you said, pushing past the momentary lull in the conversation and giving him a pointed look.

He let out a laugh, a real and genuine one, unlike the ones he’d let out during interviews or out in public. The thought made your face heat up. It made you feel special. Even if he didn’t see you in the same way you saw him, he at least trusted you enough to be real around you. That was enough for you.

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, kid, any person would be lucky to land a date with someone as beautiful as you,” He stated, looking at you with a certain emotion behind his gaze that you couldn’t quite decipher. “If your date happens to go south, just give me a call and I’ll pick you up. After all, what kind of hero would I be if I didn’t look out for my secretary?”

You looked at his retreating form, your hair as pink as bubble gum and heart threatening to beat out of your rib cage. He’d just called you beautiful. He’d also said that anyone would be lucky to date you. Did that include him? Did he like you?

“Hey Hawks,” you called out, surprising both him and yourself. Despite him telling you to just call him Hawks instead of ‘sir’, you’d stuck to calling him sir for the sake of professionality. “Thanks for the offer.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 4

You let out a tired sigh as you watched the number of floors go up on the tiny screen atop the doors of the elevator you were currently in.

When you had signed your contract to work at Hawks’ agency, you were aware that you would need to be accessible 24/7, however, you thought that if he did contact you at an ungodly hour, it’d be for something important, perhaps something along the lines of a press scandal or a massive villain attack that you’d need to start filing paperwork promptly so that the agency could report the casualties or cost of the destruction. You had highly doubted Hawks, Japan’s literal #2 hero would call his secretary at 3:00 a.m. in the goddamn morning and order them to bring him a bucket of fried chicken from fucking KFC.

You clearly hadn’t known the man at the time, you thought as you stared at the red and white bucket in your arms.

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you had arrived at your destination. Making your way through the hallway, you tried to figure out why your boss would be so cruel as to make you get him fast food when he had two perfectly capable wings that could take him to and from the nearest KFC faster than you ever could. You bet it’d even be warmer.

You’d need to download UberEats on his phone.

Before your fist could make contact with the door, it was swung open, surprising your half-asleep brain. Before your eyes there was a very awake looking Hawks, his eyes zeroed in on the bucket you were holding

“Hey there, chickadee,” he said in a teasing tone, resting his arm on the door frame in a very attractive manner. God, if you were just a bit more coherent and a little less sleep-deprived, your hair would be the most embarrassingly bright pink color imaginable.

Thankfully, you weren’t and you could hear your bed calling your name from across the city, so without bothering to answer, you shoved the bucket of chicken into his arms before turning around to speed your way back to your at this point cold bed.

Before you could get very far, however, Hawks had grabbed your wrist with your free hand.

“You’re not leaving already, are you?” He asked you, letting go of your wrist.

“It’s 3 in the goddamn morning, Hawks,” was your deadpan answer.

“C’mon, you wouldn’t let your poor boss eat all alone would you,” you could tell his tone was meant to be light and playful but it was lacking his usual flare.

Your concern for the overgrown pigeon won out, and with a defeated sigh, you walked into his apartment, Hawks trailing behind you, visibly pleased that you stayed.

Despite all your time working for Hawks, you’d never actually been inside of his apartment. You had come here several times before to drop off documents he needed to sign or a new schedule (because the Hero Commission apparently couldn’t send emails directly to him) but you had always left the things at his building's front desk.

Hawks’ apartment was… emptier than you had expected it to be. It was nice, the furniture was obviously high quality, not that it was surprising considering he was a high ranking hero, but it lacked a personal touch. It had no pictures or knick-knacks in sight. It felt more like a house instead of an actual home.

“So, how’d your date go?” Hawks inquired once the two of you settled in his living room, him on the couch and you in the armchair next to it. He picked up a piece of chicken, offering it to you. However, it was far too early to even think about consuming food, so you politely declined.

“It was fine. He was nice,” you answered.

To be honest the date had gone well. He’d been nice, a complete gentleman. He’d taken you to a nice restaurant, he was great in conversation, he’d even walked you home but at the end of the night, the two of you had agreed that there was just no chemistry between the two of you whatsoever. You had decided to just stay friends.

“There won’t be a second one, though,” you added after a beat of silence.

“Good,” your eyes widened at his words and suddenly you had an epiphany.

Hawks had been jealous. He was jealous because he liked you. That’s why he had asked you to come here.

Before you could voice your thoughts, he spoke again, a sly smirk on his face, “By the way, I love your pajamas. I wasn’t aware you were such a fan.”

Your hair turned pink, as it often did whenever Hawks was around when you looked down at your clothes. In your haste to get Hawks his food so you could go back to bed, you had forgone changing clothes. You hadn’t realized you were wearing the Hawks themed PJs your roommate had gotten you as a gag gift. They were mustard-colored with lots of cute red feathers and tiny Hawks chibi heads scattered around the fabric.

He would never let you live this down.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 5

Following the KFC event, the two of you hadn’t spoken about the situation further. At this point, you were well aware of his feelings for you, and you hadn’t exactly been subtle about liking him. The two of you just hadn’t spoken about it. You weren’t official but there was an unspoken rule that neither of you would go on dates with other people.

You were fine with it. Really, you were.

Except that you were definitely not okay with it and you were very much upset that he had just answered that he was single when the lady that had interviewed him had asked him if he was seeing anyone.

Rationally, you understood why he said no. You weren’t official and saying yes would just throw the media into a frenzy while they speculated who he was seeing. You remember how crazy everyone went a couple of months ago when pictures of Mirko and Hawks in their street clothes hanging out started circulating on Twitter. They were trending for weeks, and you had had to answer call after call, explaining that no, they are not dating and no, they don’t have time to go on the 8:00 a.m. news to answer questions about what it was like to date as pro heroes.

On the other hand, you were tired of dancing around each other. You were aware that dating a pro hero would come with hectic schedules and even some danger, but you didn’t care.

“So I was thinking you could come over and we can watch that hero documentary you told me to watch- hey are you mad at me?” Hawks asked, brows furrowed as in confusion.

“No, I’m not angry at you,” you answered, putting your stuff away and heading to the agency’s doors. You were more than ready to go back to your apartment and there was a pint of your favorite ice cream waiting for you in the freezer with your name on it.

“You totally are,” he scoffed, following after you.

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your overgrown pigeon of a boss insisted, mimicking your tone, “If you’re not angry then why is your hair red?”

With a sigh, you spoke, failing to hide the snarky tone to your voice “So what if I am angry? Why do you care? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” You walked out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, that’s what you're upset about?” He asked, realization dawning upon his features. When you didn’t answer he kept talking, “You of all people know why I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. It’s just- nothing, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You told him, looking away with a defeated sigh.

You were about to walk away before he stopped you by placing his glove cladded hand  

“At least let me take you home,” it wasn’t much of a question, but you nodded anyways.

All of a sudden, you let out a shrill scream when he picked you up bridal style, hands instinctively clasping on to his coat to assure you wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he explained as if it were obvious. Before you had a chance to argue he set off into the sky.

You couldn’t hear anything but the wind in your ears and his heartbeat, but you finally understood why he loved flying so much. Exhilarating was the only word you could use to describe it. And cold. It was also really cold. You understood why he walked around with such a heavy coat now. You snuggled more into him, trying to get some more warmth, which caused Hawks to tighten his hold on you. The affectionate gesture alone had your hair going a shade of pink.

You got to your apartment building much faster than you ever would by taking the train, something that you regretted a bit since it meant he’d let go of you.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, “maybe we should-“

“Keigo,” he said, effectively cutting you off,

“W-what?” You spluttered, caught off guard.

“I want you to call me Keigo,” he said with a sense of finality, looking into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite read, or at least one that you were just choosing to ignore. It’d just make what you were about to suggest harder.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, opening the door that led to the stairs, “I really like you, hell, maybe even more than that, and I want to be with you but I don’t want to be whatever we are right now forever.”

Ignoring the way his wings physically dropped at your words, you closed the door behind you and headed to your apartment.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

Once you got home, you immediately stripped out of your work clothes and into your Hawks-themed pajamas (because they're the comfiest, not because they remind you of him, obviously) and you’d taken out your ice cream and went to town on it. Your roommate had noticed the dark blue that had taken over your hair but you’d brushed her off, saying it was nothing to worry about. She’d been doubtful, but she had a night shift so she left, but not before making you promise to call her if you needed to.

You’d spent the rest of the evening eating your ice cream and watching tv before deciding to get some sleep so you would feel at least a little less sorry for yourself tomorrow.

You were currently in your room, scrolling through your phone on your bed before calling it a day when you started to hear a tapping sound. You’d ruled it out to be some tree branch knocking against your window due to the wind. However, the longer you ignored it the more incessant it became.

You nearly fell out of your bed when you realized it was Hawks, your boss, the #2 pro hero of Japan, tapping on your window while squatting on your fire escape.

You got up, heading towards your window and unlocking it before pushing it up.  You helped him in before sitting down on the bed and motioning for him to do the same. An awkward silence filled the air, neither of you was quite sure of what you should say.

“Hawks, what are-“ you started before being cut off by him.

“Look, Pinky, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me,” he declared. Your hair went the brightest shade of pink it had ever been at his words.

He played with the embroidered design of the throw blanket you kept in your bed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the red-winged hero so vulnerable in all your time knowing him.

“But there’s a lot of crap that comes with my job and I could never forgive myself if I brought you into it and you got hurt. So-“ before he could finish speaking, you grabbed onto his coat’s collar with both of your hands and crashed your lips against his.

You’d waited almost an entire year for this. One thing was for certain, it was well worth the wait. You loved every single thing about him. And he loved you. That was all you needed.

After a beat, you pulled away, choosing instead to cup his cheek in an adoring manner. The two of you looked at each other with nothing short of pure unadulterated adoration.

“I love you Keigo,” you spoke his name for the first time, “as long as you’re by my side I don’t care about what happens.”

His reaction was, for lack of a better word, cute. His honey eyes were wide in shock, his face as red as his wings, and his aforementioned wings were puffed up in shock. Now you understood why he loved teasing you so much.

“So, do you wanna watch the documentary?” You asked him, walking out of your room and into the living room with a victorious smirk.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

[kaile-hultner]

Nihilism is so easy, which is why we need to kill it

(I initially published this here a couple weeks ago.)

So last night it dawned on me that, after over two years of being relatively symptom-free, my depression snuck back up on me and has taken over. It’s still pretty mild in comparison to other times I’ve been stuck in the hole, but after 24 months (and more) of mostly being good to go, I can tell that it’s here for a hot minute again.

How do I know? Well, it might be the fact that I spent more time sleeping during my recent vacation from work than I did just about anything else, and how it’s suddenly really hard for me to stay awake during work hours. I don’t really have an appetite, and in fact nausea hits me frequently. I don’t really have any emotional reactions to things outside of tears, even when tears aren’t super appropriate to the situation (like watching someone play Outer Wilds for the first time). And I’ve been consuming a lot of apocalyptic media, to which the only response, emotional or otherwise, I can really muster is “dude same.”

For a long time I was huge into absurdist philosophy, because it felt to my depressed brain like just the right balance between straight up denying that things are bad (and thus we should fix them, or at least try to do so) and full-blown nihilism. This gives absurdism a lot of credit; mostly it’s just a loose set of spicy existentialist ideas and shit that sounds good on a sticker, like “The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”

In the last couple years, while outside of my depressive state, I went back to Camus’ work and found a lot of almost full-on abusive shit in it. Not toward anyone specifically, but shit like “nobody and nothing will care if you’re gone, so live out of spite of them all” rubs me the wrong way in retrospect. The philosophy Camus puts out opens the door for living in a very self-destructive fashion; that in fact the good life is living without care for yourself or anyone/anything else. The way Camus describes and derides suicide especially is grim as fuck, and certainly I would never recommend The Myth of Sisyphus to anyone currently struggling with ideation. That “perfect balance” between denial and nihilism is really not that perfect at all, and in fact skews much more heavily towards the latter.

Neon Genesis Evangelion has been a big albatross around my neck in terms of the media products I’ve consumed in my life that I believe have influenced my depression hardcore. It sits in a similar conversational space to Camus’ work, in that it confronts nihilism and at once rejects and facilitates it. A lot of folks remark that Evangelion is pretty unique – or at least uncommon – in its accurate portrayal of depression, especially for mid-90s anime properties. The thing I notice always seems to be missing in these discussions is that along with that accurate portrayal comes a spot-on – to me, at least – depiction of what depression does to resist being treated. This is a disease that uses a person’s rational faculties to suggest that nobody else could possibly understand their pain, and therefore there’s no use in getting better or moving forward. Shinji Ikari is as self-centered as Hideaki Anno is as I am when it comes to confronting the truth: there are paths out of this hole, but nobody else can take that step out but us, and part of our illness is that refusal to do just that. Depression lies, it provides a cold comfort to the sufferer, that there is no existence other than the one where we are in pain and there is no way out, so pull the blanket up over our head and go back to sleep.

Watching Evangelion for the first time corresponded with the onset of one of the worst depressive spirals I’ve ever been in, and so, much like the time I got a stomach virus at the same time that I ate Arby’s curly fries, I kind of can’t associate Evangelion with anything else. No matter what else it might signify, no matter what other meaning there is to derive from it, for me Eva is the Bad Feeling Anime™. Which is why, naturally, I had to binge all four of the Evangelion theatrical releases upon the release of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon A Time last month.

If Neon Genesis Evangelion and End of Evangelion are works produced by someone with untreated depression just fucking rawdogging existence, then the Eva movies are works produced by someone who has gone to therapy even just one fucking time. Whether that therapy is working or not is to be determined, but they have taken that step out of the hole and are able to believe that there is a possibility of living a depression-free life. The first 40 minutes or so of Evangelion 3.0+1.0 are perfect cinema to me. The world is destroyed but there is a way to bring it back. Restoration and existence is possible even when the surface of the planet might as well be the surface of the Moon. The only thing about this is, everyone has to be on board to help. Even though WILLE fired one of its special de-corefication devices into the ground to give the residents of Village 3 a chance at survival, the maintenance of this pocket ecosystem is actively their responsibility. There is no room or time for people who won’t actively contribute, won’t actively participate in making a better world from the ashes of the old.

There are a lot of essentialist claims and assumptions made by the film in this first act about how the body interacts with the social – the concept of disability itself just doesn’t seem to have made it into the ring of safety provided by Misato and the Wunder, which seems frankly wild to me, and women are almost singularly portrayed in traditionalist support roles while men are the doers and the fixers and the makers. I think it’s worth raising a skeptical eyebrow at this trad conservative “back to old ways” expression of the post-apocalypse wherever it comes up, just as it’s important to acknowledge where the movie pushes back on these themes, like when Toji (or possibly Kensuke) is telling Shinji that, despite all the hard work everyone is doing like farming and building, the village is far from self-sufficient and will likely always rely on provisions from the Wunder.

As idyllic as the setting is, it’s not the ideal. As Shinji emerges from his catatonia, Kensuke takes him around the village perimeter. It’s quiet, rural Japan as far as the eye can see, but everywhere there are contingencies; rationing means Kensuke can only catch one fish a week, all the entry points where flowing water comes into the radius of the de-corefication devices have to be checked for blockages because the water supply will run out. There is a looming possibility that the de-corefication machines could break or shut down at some point, and nobody knows what will happen when that happens. On the perimeter, lumbering, pilot-less and headless Eva units shuffle around; it is unknown whether they’re horrors endlessly biding their time or simply ghosts looking to reconnect to the ember of humanity on the other side of the wall. Survival is always an open question, and mutual aid is the expectation. Still: the apocalypse happened, and we’re still here. The question Village 3 answers is “what now?” We move on, we adapt.

Evangelion is still a work that does its level best to defy easy interpretation, but the modern version of the franchise has largely abandoned the nihilism that was at its core in the 90s version. It’s not just that Shinji no longer denies the world until the last possible second – it’s that he frequently actively reaches out and is frustrated by other people’s denials. He wants to connect, he wants to be social, but he’s also burdened with the idea that he’s only good to others if he’s useful, and he’s only useful if he pilots the Eva unit. This last movie separates him and what he is worth to others (and himself) from his agency in being an Eva pilot, finally. In doing so, he’s able to reconcile with nearly everyone in his life who he has harmed or who has hurt him, and create a world in which there is no Evangelion. While this ending is much more wishful thinking than one more grounded in the reality of the franchise – one that, say, focuses on the existence and possible flourishing of Village 3 and other settlements like it while keeping one eye on the precarious balancing act they’re all playing – it feels better than the ending of End of Eva, and even than the last two episodes of the original series.

I’m glad the nihilism in Evangelion is gone, for the most part. I’m glad that I didn’t spend roughly eight hours watching the Evamovies only to be met yet again with a message of “everything is pointless, fuck off and die.” Because I’ve been absorbing that sentiment a lot lately, from a lot of different sources, and it really just fuckin sucks to hear over and over again.

It is a truth we can’t easily ignore that the confluence of pandemic, climate change, authoritarian surge and capitalist decay has made shit miserable recently. But the spike in lamentations over the intractability of this mix of shit – the inevitability of our destruction, to put it in simpler terms – really is pissing me off. No one person is going to fix the world, that much is absolutely true, but if everyone just goes limp and decides to “123 not it” the apocalypse then everyone crying about how the world is fucked on Twitter will simply be adding to the opening bars of a self-fulfilling prophesy.

We can’t get in a mech to save the world but then, neither realistically could Shinji Ikari. What we can do looks a lot more like what’s being done in Village 3: people helping each other with limited resources wherever they can.

Last week, Hurricane Ida slammed into the Gulf Coast and churned there for hours – decimating Bayou communities in Louisiana and disrupting the supply chain extensively – before powering down and moving inland. Last night the powerful remnants of that storm tore through the Northeast, causing intense flooding. Areas not typically affected by hurricanes suddenly found themselves in a similar boat – pun not intended – to folks for whom hurricanes are simply a fact of life. There’s a once-in-a-millennium drought and heatwave ripping through the West Coast and hey – who can forget back in February when Oklahoma and Texas experienced -20 degree temperatures for several days in a row? All of this against the backdrop of a deadly and terrifying pandemic and worsening political climate. It’s genuinely scary! But there are things we can do.

First, if you’re in a weather disaster-prone area, get to know your local mutual aid organizations. Some of these groups might be official non-profits; one such group in the Louisiana area, for example, is Common Ground Relief. Check their social media accounts for updates on what to do and who needs help. If you’re not sure if there’s one in your area, check out groups like Mutual Aid Disaster Relief for that same information. Even if you’re not in a place that expects to see the immediate effects of climate change, you should still consider linking up with organizing groups in your area. Tenant unions, homeless organizations, safe injection sites and needle exchanges, immigrant rights groups, environmental activist orgs, reproductive health groups – all could use some help right now, in whatever capacity you might be able to provide it.

In none of these scenarios are we going to be the heroes of the story, and we shouldn’t view this kind of work in that way. But neither should we give into the nihilistic impulse to insist upon doing nothing, insist that inaction is the best course of action, and get back under the blankets for our final sleep. Kill that impulse in your head, and fuck, if you have to, simply just fucking wish for that better world. Then get out of bed and help make it happen.

[hopeless-starry-kingdom]

you broke me first | Peter Parker

Summary: You have to remind Peter it was his fault you were broken up

read part 1 and 2 here !

song: you broke me first by Tate McRae 

a/n: happy valentines day!! hope everyone’s day was good and here is the last part of this mini series :))))

Maybe you don't like talking too much about yourself

But you shoulda told me that your were thinking ‘bout someone else

“If you guys are going to make out can you at least do it somewhere else. I’m eating.” MJ put her book back to her eye level as you and Harry pulled away from each other. You blushed and Harry smirked before throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“C’mon, MJ. Don’t be such a cockblock.” You slapped Harry on his arm and he laughed. “If you want I can set you up with one of my friends.”

MJ put her book down and pretended to think about the offer. “A rich daddy’s boy with two functional brain cells, who’s also a fuckboy. I’ll pass” She smiled sarcastically at Harry and he chuckled.

“Have I ever mentioned I like your friends?” You giggled at him and shook your head. MJ flipped him off and you had to bite back your laugh.

“Stop patronizing her.” You tried to be stern but the smirk on Harry’s face paired with MJ lips twitching up didn’t help your case. “Yes madame.”

Or your phones been off for a couple months, so you’re callin’ me now

He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours before turning back to eat his lunch. You smile was big as you stared at him but something caught your attention. From behind him you saw Peter, Gwen, and Ned walking. Gwen had her arm wrapped around Peter’s arm. Ned was talking to Gwen about something and Peter was already staring at you. You gave him a small smile and a head nod before turning back to your small group.

“Hey, did Mr. Harrington ever say when the essay was due?”

“I cant keep going. My brain is fried.” You groaned as you flopped down on MJ’s bed and rested your arms over your eyes to block the light from coming in.

“Yeah, i’m pretty burnt too. You hungry? I can order some pizza.”

“Please?” You begged and sat up as MJ was looking for the number on her phone your phone buzzed with a message. It was Harry.

Can you come over tomorrow? I wanna spend time with you <3

You bit your lip go hide to hide the smile that was threatening to come through. Harry was always so sweet with you. He had a cocky front that he showed everyone else, sometimes with you as well. But you knew deep down he was a teddy bear. Texts like this showed that. And even though Harry explained to you that his father never showed him love, and continues not to, he doesn’t see a reason not to show love.

But I ran out of every reason

“Hey, can you please stop sexting Harry? I’m trying to hang out with you.” A pillow collided with your face and you gasped.

“MJ! I’m not sexting Harry. He wants to know if I can hang out tomorrow. It’s sweet.” You quickly responded back to his text and told him you could.

“You two are disgustingly cute. It makes me sick. And tell him to stop hogging you, I feel like he’s always with you. Does he not know he has to share?” You threw your head back and laughed at her.

“So now i’m an object of sharing? Nice to know.” You laughed and soon MJ was joining in with you.

Took a while, I was in denial when I first heard

That you moved on quicker than I coulda ever, you know that hurt

“I’m happy for you, Y/N. I know the whole thing with Peter had you in a funk..” You looked down at your hands and nodded. You still thought about Peter often. Soley because you had him in some of your classes and you constantly saw him around school. But you never thought of him like you used to. You stopped loving the way his smile reached his eyes and lit up the whole room. You stopped loving his curls. You stopped loving his unconditional kindness.

It was over now, officially. You weren’t hurting anymore and it felt so amazing to say it. The storm had passed and had taken Peter Parker with it. You were happy now with Harry. So extremely happy. You didn’t actually think it was possible but after giving the relationship a chance, you couldn’t believe how happy you were with Harry.

You never wanted to depend your happiness on soley being in a relationship. You were better than that. But you were finding you were happy by yourself and with Harry. It was the best middle ground. You thought you had to depend on Peter or a relationship to be content. And it definitely wasn’t true.

“I’m just glad that it’s all over with. And Peter was an asshole to you.” You both laughed at her statement.

“Yeah, i’m glad it’s over too.” She smiled at you before tapping a button on her phone.

“Hi, I’d like to place an order for delivery.”

Swear, for awhile, I would stare at my phone just to see your name

Gwen Stacy gasped as she read the note that fell out of her locker. It was the fourth one this week. And she couldn’t count how many she got over all. Apparently she was a dirty two-faced snake. She preached girl supporting girls but to everyone else she stole someone’s boyfriend which didn’t exactly sit right with the girls of the school. Gwen didn’t mean for it to happen and she tried explaining it to some of the girls in her art class but they just rolled their eyes at her.

“Another one? Let me see.” Peter grabbed the note and read over it before tearing to to shreds.

“Yes, another one Peter. In fact the fourth one this week. And maybe if i’m lucky i’ll get one tomorrow and see what else the girls have to say about me in the girls restroom. I can’t keep doing this Peter.” Gwen slammed her locker and held her head in her hands.

“Ok, well i’ll go talk to Mr. Harrington. Or even the principal. I’ll tell them that it’s been getting out of hand and—”

“No, Peter. That’s not what I mean. I mean I can’t do this. Us.” Gwen crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at Peter because she knew if she did she’d melt.

“W-what? Gwen, what do mean?”

“Peter I cant keep living like this! People hate me all because you broke Y/N’s heart. And I can’t blame them either becuase you left her for me, you broke the poor girl. I’d hate me too.”

“They’ll get over it! It’s none of their buisness.” He reached over and tried to grab the girls hands but she instantly pulled away.

“Peter, I really like you. I do. But with college applications coming up and school’s scouting, I can’t risk letting this affect me getting into NYU. I don’t have the time for petty school drama.”

“Gwen, cmon. Please, I really like you too. I can figure something out.” He pleaded. He couldn’t let Gwen go, not after everything that happened with you.

“I’m sorry, Pete. I really am.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek before smiling sadly at him. She turned with her books in her hand and walked away.

Peter groaned and kicked the locker next to him. It created a dent and some people began to whisper and point. He sighed before walking to his first class.

‘Did you hear what happened????’

You furrowed yourself brows at MJ’s text. You quickly looked up and seen your teacher pointing to the board and explaining today’s lesson. You placed your phone in your lap as you typed back a response.

‘Hear what? Did Flash trip and fall into the trash again?’

You looked up again and pretended to take notes and waited for her to text back. Once you felt your phone buzz your eyes nearly bulged out of your head

‘No! Though that would make my day— Gwen broke up with Peter! Some junior over heard it from their locker and started to spread it. That’ll show him!’

You gulped as you put your phone away and stared ahead. Peter no longer had Gwen. Peter no longer had the girl he left you for. She ended it with him. You had a mix of emotions. For one you wanted to rub your relationship in his face. He left you for someone and now they broke up with him.

You couldn’t believe how much it back fired on him. You wanted to laugh in his face and call him a huge idiot. You wouldn’t ever dare think of leaving him. He got his karma.

But you also felt a little sad for him. Gwen broke up with him. You couldn’t imagine how upset and sad he was feeling. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of it being his fault. Becuase maybe it was.

The rest of the week was filled with gossip about Peter being dumped by Gwen. The girls said he deserved it but also thought it didn’t excuse Gwen either. She noticed she still got stared in the hall but the whispers stopped and so did the writing in the restroom. It was a start.

They scoffed at Peter and made sure to give him a dirty look. Peter wasn’t feeling too good either. He couldn’t belive he lost you and Gwen. Ned tried to reasure him that it wasn’t meant to be. All Peter did was smile and nod. And then he saw you smiling and laughing with Harry. Living your best life and he felt jealous and angry. Jealous and angry that you were happy without him. And jealous and angry that Harry was the one to kiss you and give you hugs from behind.

That should be me.

He hated himself for thinking that. He broke up with you. He left you. So why was he thinking about you like he had in the past? It dawned on him for the next few days that letting you go was a mistake. He didn’t actually like Gwen, he liked the idea of her. The popular, girl next door version of Gwen Stacy is what he liked. Sure, Gwen was funny and nice and smart but so were you. And much more in his opinion.

He was an idiot who let you go because he liked the idea of someone. He chose that over loving you.

“The blood drive took way longer than I thought.” You pressed your phone against your ear with your shoulder as you began to enter your locker combination.

“Well saving lives isn’t a two second process miss Y/L/N.” You rolled your eyes at Harry being sarcastic.

“I can’t believe your missing school to attend one of your dads meeting in the Upper East Side.” Harry chuckled and shrugged.

“What can I say? I’m a buisness man too.” Harry’s father glared at him as they walked in the halls of the conference room. He knew that was his way of telling Harry to get off the phone.

“Hey, babe. I have to go, the meetings starting soon. I’ll see you tomorrow. Stay safe.”

“Bye, Harry. See you.” You smiled as you hung up the phone and pocketed your phone. You were excused for two of your class periods and now had to be at your next one as the bell rang. You quickly grabbed the books you needed and slammed the locker shut. You gasped in surprise when you seen who was behind the locker.

“Peter? Um, what are you doing?” You looked around anxiously to see if any other students noticed you and the curly haired boy standing within a few feet of each other. They had.

“H-how are you?”

“I’m good? Do you need something? I have physics next and—”

“Your teacher will kill you if you’re late.” He chuckled as he nervously twiddled his fingers. You didn’t laugh though. “How-How’s being able to drive now? I bet it feels like you have a ton of freedom.”

“Peter, i’m sorry if this sounds rude but what do you want? You’ve made it pretty clear these past few months you don’t want anything to do with me. So what do you need? Is this about you being you-know-who?” You whispered the last part to make sure no one heard. “I promise I won’t tell Harry or anyone else.”

“No! It’s not that it’s... Okay I know this might sound so crazy and insane but please, just hear me out.” He had his puppy dog eyes on and you couldn’t ever resist them. What was a few minutes?

“You have like two minutes before I have to go.” You glanced at your phone for the time.

“Okay, sweet. First off I want to say how sorry I am for the way I treated you, Y/N. It was so shitty and I just tossed you to the side. I will never be able to forgive myself for that but I was hoping... maybe you can?”

You smiled at the boy once you realized what he was doing. He was giving you a formal apology. Though it was long over due you knew you couldn’t hold a grudge against him. You just weren’t that person. And you were finally over Peter. It was all working out.

“Of course, I can forgive you, Peter. Thank you for apologizing. It does mean a lot. Well i’ll see you around?” Peter’s brows furrowed before quickly shaking his head.

“Wait that’s not all.” Your looked at him quizzically and urged him to continue. “I was wondering I-if you’d like to give us, me and you, another try. At dating, of course.” He smiled at you and suddenly you were no longer smiling. You took a step back as you stared at him in disbelief.

How dare he? How dare he break your heart and then come running back to you the moment Gwen breaks up with him. You were his second choice and that hurt. And to top it off, you were with Harry, happily.

“How dare you, Peter Parker?” Peter gulped as he recognized the anger and disappointment in your tone.

“Becuase shit isn’t going your way, you think this is okay?” You voice was now raised and now suddenly everyone in the hall turned to face you two.

“Y/N, please. Just let me explain—”

“Now suddenly you’re asking for me back? Could you tell me where’d you get the nerve?” You spit and Peter didn’t think he’d ever seen you so mad.

“I made a huge mistake. I miss you. I miss us.” He tried pleading but you scoffed

“You can say you miss all that we had but I don’t really care how bad you’re hurting, Peter. Not when you broke me first.”

There were tears in your eyes and your heart was heavy. How could he do this to you? You were over him now and then he comes and pull this stunt. You were also very angry.

“Y/N, please. I—”

“I don’t want to heart it, Parker! Leave me alone! I mean it, Peter. Don’t talk to me anymore, don’t look at me in the halls or in our classes. Don’t even think about me. It’s over Peter. Find your dignity while you’re at it.” You spat and purposely pushed his shoulder roughly with yours.

You tried to ignore the whispers as you started to speed walk to the nearest restroom, your class long forgotten.

You tried to hold in your sob as your thoughts began to eat you alive. But you couldn’t hold back as it pried its way to the surface. You didn’t care about if the floor was dirty as you slid down to hug your knees. All you could think was screw Peter Parker. This wasn’t the Peter you knew. Peter would never publicly humiliate you and turn you into a joke. But he did.

What did you think would happen?

I’ll never let you have it

What did you think would happen?

You had to remind yourself that he in fact did do those things. You were a game to Peter, it seemed. His second choice. And it hurt, you hate to admit that it hurt.

“Y/N.” MJ walked into the bathroom and sighed when she saw you on the floor.

“I-Is the whole sch-school talking ab-about me?” You hiccuped and she placed a hand on your knee and gently rubbed her hand back and forth.

“The only thing they’re saying is how Peter’s a jackass and you don’t deserve that.” You sighed and nodded and tried to brush your tears away.

“I just can’t believe he would d-do this to me. It’s like i’m a jo-joke.” You sniffled and MJ scoffed. “He’s such a dick. Once I get my hands on him—”

“No, MJ. It’s fine. I gave him a piece of my mind already.” You smiled weakly at her and she helped you off the floor. She shook her head with a scowl and then snorted.

“What?”

“Once Harry hears about his little stunt, Peter is done for.”

Your eyes widened as you thought about Harry. He tolerated Peter because of you and once he hears what happened, you have a good idea what he’d do.

“My god, I have to call him. But he’s in a stupid high class professional meeting.” You whipped out your phone and went to his contact. You couldn’t call him but you thought a text should be enough until you see him later.

‘Don’t freak out...Peter asked me out again

BUT!!!! I obviously said no and handled to situation!

So when you come to school tomorrow and hear about the drama pls don’t pummel Peters face in ??? <3’

“Hm. That should hold him off. Let’s skip class and go watch the cheerleaders fall from their pyramid.” You tried to keep a straight face but ended up laughing.

“Yeah, i’m down for that.” MJ smiled at you and started to walk out of the bathroom.

You sighed and thought about if Peter was hurting right now. But then you shook your head.

But I don’t really care how bad it hurts

When you broke me first

He broke you first and now he had to deal with the aftermath, not you.

[melodyalanaroster]

My Candy Love Love Life Episode 14

Yeah, I know, I’m nearly a week late on this... I’ve got a lot on my plate.... Those of you in my Discord know what, so I’m not gonna go into detail unless someone asks me directly. This post is a little long. It goes in depth into my opinion of my playthrough and my theories about the future. Honestly, this episode seemed rather short and uneventful. Yes, I know, Candy essentially loses the Cozy Bear in the end, and if the player chooses the bad end, she loses the Love Interests.... But it still really didn’t do much for me. Now, for those of you who don’t know, I accidentally lowered my affinity with Nathaniel in Episode 12, I did re-raise it within my first couple of choices in this episode and kept it raised. As for the outfits... I am not against them... I think the whole “flag” theme to the pants is cool and I love the black shirt. I love that the second outfit is free and that the only real choice for the outfits is “Which extra illustration do you want?”. As much as I love how hot Rayan looks in his extra illustration, I, of course, chose the extra Nathaniel illustration. I’m REALLY glad this cool black top is part of it! I had forgotten that I took Dan up on his offer in previous episodes... However, it was just an oral agreement. My brain has been kind of fried these past few months, due to my IRL issues, so I really don’t remember what I did... Just that I got Nina’s illustration from the episode where Dan proposes it. When Dan tried to bring me down with him, Candy stated that it was just an oral agreement, then Nathaniel became relieved... I asked the girls in my Discord and they think that I agreed to Dan’s proposal, but went with the option of having a lawyer look at the agreement. With Dan and his desire to use Candy, I found that fascinating. His original intent was to use her for his personal gain and then eventually throw her under the bus. However, when he realized that her love of art was as sincere as his, he grew to see her more as a comrade and felt guilty for using her. This was kind of endearing... To go from “You stupid girl, you’re an easy target.” to “Your passion for art is the same as mine, I feel guilty for what I’m doing to you.” is always interesting to see. Yes, he is the villain of her story in this case, but, he does feel remorse. I went with the option that angered Eric. Frankly, I’m annoyed with myself for not lowering his affinity more... But, I tried to play nice with him in early episodes because of his friendship with Nathaniel. Its what I do. I try to be nice to my darling’s friends so that there is little to no friction.  The point where Candy was crying in front of Sweet Amoris did seem like a healthy dose of foreshadowing.... But, until Episode 15 comes out, I won’t have anything else to back that up. However, I am not the least bit surprised that she will likely lose the Cozy Bear. It does not seem like the café is her ultimate goal. There must be more to it. The scene with Miss Paltry was interesting... I get that she was upset with Rayan but she more or less used Marina as a means of getting back at him for being what she deemed as “inappropriate”. Now, I hated the Marina situation from all sides, and I was only nice about her because of Chani and Rayan. But, damn... You’d think a woman in Miss Paltry’s situation would be more mature about it. I really want to know what he did or didn’t do to her to make her go on this crusade against him. I picked the option that keeps Rayan at Anteros. I didn’t see Hyun, Priya or Castiel this episode. But, I did see Auntie. As much as I love Castiel, and wouldn’t mind seeing the other LIs... I understand why I didn’t see them. Rayan’s arc needed closure, so we saw him even if you’re not on his route. The other routes were somewhat tied up with bows, so you didn’t really need to see them if you’re not on their paths. Now, to the main course... Nathaniel. Firstly, I HATE his last name. Carello just does not fit him the way Jacott does. If you don’t know where Jacott comes from, there is an old Facebook post that Beemoov made of Amber naming her as “Amber Jacott”. We all assumed that Jacott would be Nathaniel’s last name. Hell, I’ve even written it several times throughout Alana’s Canon. Some people assume that Jacott is Francis’ last name, that Carello is Adelaide’s maiden name and that Nathaniel must have changed his last name to his mother’s in an effort to distance himself from his father... However, Beemoov is known to be very inconsistent.... This is probably just another one of Beemoov’s MANY inconsistencies.  Nathaniel you beautiful bastard, I love you so much! There are many points in this episode where I just want to kiss him! Each time he called me little pet names, and smiled, I just melted! Now, I am a loyal girlfriend, and Nathaniel is no exception to that. I did not cheat on him. I’m also an honest girlfriend, and was more than happy to tell him about Eric’s advances. Of course, he has full right to be angry with Eric. However, Candy does have a point. Eric’s advances are probably a side effect from all of the drama, stress, and strain he’s been going through... Even if he did cause all of it... Nathaniel’s sweetness and appreciation for our honesty always moves me. While the moment left me craving more, that’s how I always am with this moments. This moment was not disappointing. I am very happy with it. The emotion, the illustration, the ending, it was all very loving... As usual, I just wish there was MORE.... I have heard that Episode 15 will be the final episode of Love Life. I really hope that, if there is a Season 4, we will FINALLY marry our love interest. I hope we get to meet the other LI’s parents. Yes, I know, we’ve already met Nathaniel’s and Castiel’s parents, but, in game, we haven’t seen them in nearly a decade. We’ve seen a lot of Hyun’s parents, but have never seen Priya’s or Rayan’s. I also want to see Amber again. I also REALLY want Nathaniel to finally get the therapy he so desperately needs! I also think that the game might come full circle and have Candy become an art teacher at Sweet Amoris. If we get a Season 4, it will likely be the final season of MCL and it will be very cliché, yet appropriate, for it to come full circle. I feel like the next season may be called Married Life.... Or, at least, I hope it is....

[ididntneedanewfandom]

BakuDeku Winter Week 1 - Reparations

"I'm home."

There's no reply to Katsuki's words. Granted, they were quiet enough that they might have gotten lost under the music playing softly in the living room. It's been a long day and he's too tired to even speak at his usual volume. The 'heroing' part of the day went fine; it's filling out forms afterward that completely fries his brain. He thought he was done with useless paperwork when he graduated from U.A.. No such luck. And to top it all, the unseasonable spring heat has been horrendous. It's helpful for his quirk, sure, but after a point it's just oppressive.

He's late enough that he'd have expected dinner to be waiting for him, or to have received a request from his nerd to pick up takeout on the way home. But there are no yummy smells to greet him--not even burnt ones as sometimes happen--and it looks like if he wants food he'll have to work on that himself. Any other night it'd be fine, but he's tired enough that the prospect isn't all that appealing.

Although...

That deep-seated tiredness seems to melt away when he walks into the living room to find Deku reclining on the couch with his back to the armrest and one of his notebooks propped up on his raised knees. He's wearing that too big, slightly misshapen wool sweater in All Might's costume colors, the one Katsuki always teases him about. How he can bear to wear that warm thing in this weather, Katsuki has no idea.

"Used to be, you'd be all over me when I walked in the door," Katsuki says with a mock-wounded look as he approaches the couch. "I guess the honeymoon phase is over, huh?"

Deku blinks those big eyes up at him a couple of times.

"Oh, hi Kacchan," he says with a small smile. "I didn't hear you come in."

Katsuki snorts. That much was obvious. Climbing over the end of the couch, he crawls up to Deku, pushing his knees apart to settle between them, unceremoniously dropping the notebook and pen he takes from Deku to the floor.

"Hey, wait, I was--"

Katsuki silences what was coming next by pressing his mouth to Deku's. He suddenly feels a lot better, but there's still room for improvement.

He lifts his mouth and body off Deku's just enough that he has room to tug at the sweater to get to the delicious, warm skin beneath.

"Kacchan, please be careful," Deku mumbles.

"Careful about what? You're not as breakable as you used to be."

Even with Deku helpfully lifting his hips to free the bit of sweater stuck under his ass, Katsuki has to work hard to get it off him. It's caught underneath him, but one last tug--

"What... What was that?”

Deku sits up properly now, dislodging Katsuki from his lap even as he reclaims the sweater from him with shaky hands, a steady stream of "No, no, please no" rising from his lips.

"What's gotten into you?" Katsuki asks, frowning.

"It felt like..."

He falls silent as his fingers find the large rip on the back, longer than Katsuki's hand, multiple strands of frayed wool hanging loose. His expression is one of pure grief; Katsuki's stomach twists unpleasantly.

"I asked you to be careful," Deku murmurs, and Katsuki knows that tone of voice. Years ago, it'd have been accompanied by tears. Deku doesn't cry so much anymore... But it doesn't make things any better when he's really upset. He just clams up, and fuck knows what Katsuki can do to fix it when it happens.

"It's just a cheesy old sweater, " he mutters. "I'll get you one from my merch line. Better quality and better colors."

His pointed look dares Deku to protest that--they once spent a very pleasant night arguing about costume colors in between rounds of fucking, and Katsuki wouldn't mind a repeat. But when he crawls back up Deku's body again, when he slides a hand over Deku's ridiculously tight abs, Deku slaps his hand away and shimmies out from under Katsuki until he can stand, still clutching the mangled sweater.

"It was Toshinori's," he says in a cold voice, glaring at Katsuki.

It's so rare to see Deku direct actual anger toward him that Katsuki's old defenses go back up instantly. Stinging words fall from his lips before he even knows he's speaking.

"Stealing from other people's closets? And here I thought you only stole my clothes. I guess I'm not that special, huh?"

Deku's gaze hardens just a little more, and Katsuki almost expects lightning to start coursing over his body. His voice is cold enough that it could put IcyHot's quirk to shame.

"He gave it to me. It was sample merch that never got mass produced because it was handmade and too complicated to bring to market. He kept it because he said it fit him in both his forms. He thought I'd get a kick out of having it in my collection, so when he was cleaning up his things before ... He gave it to me. And you just ruined it when I asked you to be careful. But it's not like you've ever cared about my stuff anyway, is it?"

It hurts.

It hurts because it's true--or was true. Watching Deku walk away, listening to his heavy feet and the banging of their bedroom door, Katsuki can't help but remember other instances when he broke or destroyed Deku's things just because he could. The fact that today it was an accident doesn't make it any less his fault.

Katsuki groans and runs a hand over his face. He really fucked up.

He'd like nothing more than to follow Deku and not let him walk away from him--how things have changed… But then what? 'Sorry' doesn't feel like it'd be nearly enough, and Katsuki doesn't know what else he's supposed to say.

Tired steps take him to the kitchen. He stands in front of the open fridge for a while before pulling out the ingredients for katsudon. He's really not in the mood to cook, but he doesn't know what else to do.

He's just about done frying the pork and already filling up two bowls when slow steps come up behind him. He glances back at Deku, who stands there in a t-shirt inscribed with the words 'boyfriend shirt', his hands in his pockets.

"I'm so--" he starts, but Katsuki doesn't let him finish.

"Swear to god, Deku, if you try to apologize I'm shoving my foot up your ass."

Deku frowns at him.

"That's what grow-ups do, Kacchan. When they say something ugly or something they don't mean, or when they do something they shouldn't, they apologize."

"And what good does that do?" Katsuki mutters as he tops the bowls of food with the pork cutlets and places both on their small kitchen table. "Words won't knit your sweater back together. Sit down."

Taking his own advice, he draws a chair and sits. He fiddles with his chopsticks until Deku sighs and sits across from him.

"Itadakimasu," he says quietly, his eyes on his food.

Katsuki grunts in reply and watches him take a couple of bites before he asks, his voice tight and low, "Can it be repaired?"

Deku shrugs a little, and briefly looks up.

"I doubt it. It's a big rip. It's my fault, I noticed a loose bit of wool before and I didn't do anything about it. I should have fixed it then."

And it's just so completely <i>Deku</i> to take the blame for something that wasn't his fault that Katsuki doesn't know whether he wants to kick him or kiss him. In the end, he lightly kicks his shin under the table, and when Deku glares up at him, he mumbles, not quite meeting Deku's eyes even as his cheeks heat up, "'M sorry. For ripping your sweater and for what I said."

Deku's foot finds his again for something that feels more like a caress than a kick.

"The food's delicious," he says softly. "Thank you."

And Katsuki knows he's forgiven--just as well as he knows he doesn't deserve to be. Not yet.

*

Seven months later

This year again, they set up a Christmas tree.

All right, so Izuku sets up a Christmas tree while Kacchan sits there and watches. At least this time he doesn't say it's a silly tradition, though he did insist that Izuku only set it up the night before Christmas. Seeing how busy they've both been lately, Izuku doesn't think he'd have found the time to set it up sooner regardless.

And besides, Kacchan never said when it's got to come down...

Izuku just likes the lights twinkling when the room is dark at night. And he likes finding hero-themed ornaments to hang from the branches. He has four All Might ones on there, each in a different costume. He doesn't despair of finding one for EraserHead someday. He has a Froppy one and a Uravity one--they're not licensed merch, just handmade figures created by a fan he found online. He's got an official Shouto ornament--well, really it's a collectible figure meant to sit on a shelf, Izuku just looped a bit of string around Shouto's outstretched hand... and he makes sure to hang it way in the back, so Kacchan won't roll his eyes and pout every time he looks at the tree.

There's also a licensed Dynamight ornament on there, and Izuku makes sure to put it front and center. Kacchan absolutely loathes it, because whoever sculpted it gave him a smile--a nice, soft smile, the kind of smile Izuku is the only one lucky enough to receive. Which is why Izuku loves it. And why he bought seven of them, the replacements stashed in a secure place just in case this one 'mysteriously' disappears.

After hanging up another handful of ornaments--they're minor heroes, but Izuku has had the chance to work with each of them--he stands back to admire his work. A little behind him, Kacchan grabs a fistful of his t-shirt and pulls until Izuku, laughing, stumbles back and into his lap. Kacchan's arms immediately wrap around him, holding him where he is--not that Izuku has any other place to be.

"What do you think?" he asks happily, watching the multicolor lights blink on and off randomly.

Kacchan grunts. "Don't think I didn't notice you hiding Candycane in the back. You should put a real candy cane on there, it'd look nicer."

Clucking his tongue, Izuku taps the thigh underneath his own.

"Be nice," he admonishes. "Or I'll put two of yours on there."

A huff against the base of his neck sends shivers down Izuku's spine.

"It doesn't need another one of me on there," Kacchan mutters. "But it could use one of you."

Izuku wouldn't mind, but his agency isn't like Kacchan's. They don't really do merch there--which Izuku is fine with, he agrees with his boss that the important part is to be a hero, not to sell stuff, and he's about to remind Kacchan of that when something small and green dangles in his peripheral vision. With some difficulty, he lifts his eyes from the tree and looks at...

Himself.

Or, well, a version of himself.

The figure dangling from Kacchan's fingers on a silver string is just three or four inches tall, but the details on it, from the costume to the pose to the expression on the face, are all exquisite. Whoever sculpted this--is it clay? It looks like glazed clay--did an awesome job.

And gave Izuku an absolutely feral expression.

Izuku doesn't know whether to laugh or squeal or just turn around and kiss Kacchan.

"It's a little Deku!" he exclaims, then laughs as he takes the figure in his hands. "A really angry little Deku!"

"Bet he's angry because Dynamight has been hanging in that tree with all these extras without him. You should put him up there."

Izuku is happy to do so, but not before turning In Kacchan's lap and stealing a kiss... or maybe even two.

Then he practically bounces to the tree and carefully hangs up his figure next to Kacchan's. They're the same size and fit perfectly together. It makes Izuku wish they'd get to fight side by side more often. Maybe some day, he thinks wistfully, they'll open an agency together. They've talked about it a few times, but they're still rookies, barely out of school, and while they technically <i>could</i>, they both agreed it was too soon.

"I love my present, Kacchan," Izuku says as he turns back to his boyfriend. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kacchan says, "but it's not your present. This is."

His fingers drum on the top of the plain white box that definitely wasn't next to him on the couch just a second ago. Izuku tilts his head, wishing one of his quirk was X-ray vision or something. His fingers itch and he doesn't dare take a step forward.

"Do you want to put it under the tree with yours?" he says softly.

Kacchan shakes his head.

"Come here," he says. "Open it."

Izuku doesn't move.

"But Christmas is only tomorrow," he protests, his voice sounding weak even to his own ears.

Kacchan's lips stretch on a wicked grin. "Have it your way. I'll open it, then, and keep it for my--"

Before he can finish or slide his fingers under the edge of the box, Izuku plops himself back down on his lap and draws the box onto his knees. Laughing, Kacchan encircles his waist with his arms again and rests his chin on Izuku's shoulder, watching as he lifts the top of the box and reveals a familiar pattern and colors: All Might's costume.

It takes a good two or three seconds before Izuku recognizes the equally familiar ridges of knitted wool. His breath catches in his throat and he very slowly, very carefully lifts what he knows is a sweater out of the box.

It's his sweater. He knows it is, because there's a small, black spot of indelible ink near the collar; it was already there when Izuku got it.

It's the sweater he's kept in the bottom drawer of his dresser for the past few months, unable to wear it anymore without aggravating the rip but unwilling to put it away for good.

But when he turns it around, the rip is gone. And if Izuku didn't know exactly where to look, he probably wouldn't notice the repaired area. Everything matches, from the color of the wool to the pattern of the knitting. The only thing is that the wool seems a little newer in that area, less fuzzy than the rest, but that's only because Izuku knows what he's looking at.

"Kacchan," he breathes, but doesn't know what else to say.

"Is that all right?" Kacchan asks, his voice tight. "I mean, I know I should have asked first before touching your stuff, but then it'd have ruined the surprise."

"It's..." Izuku's throat feels too tight. He clutches the sweater to his chest. "It's perfect. Thank you."

After Kacchan kisses the back of his head, he manages to ask, "But... how? I looked for shops that repair knitted things but I didn't find anything."

Kacchan mumbles something; Izuku isn't quite sure he hears right. "You... what?"

"I learned to knit," Kacchan repeats a little louder, sounding embarrassed of all things. "My parents work with this old woman sometimes, she knits samples of their designs for them and then they have factories recreate the stuff. I asked her if it was fixable, and when she said yes I asked if she'd teach me how. I wanted to have it ready for your birthday but that shit took longer than I expected. I just finished last week."

Izuku understands all the words individually but he struggles to make sense of them all together. Shifting on Kacchan's lap, he turns to look at him, and is surprised to find him red-faced.

"You learned to knit?" he asks, unable to keep an edge of awe from his voice.

"I messed up your sweater," Kacchan mutters. "Wanted to fix the damn thing." Rather than looking at Izuku, he rests his forehead against Izuku's collarbone and talks against his t-shirt. "There's a lot of stuff I can't fix, but that, at least--"

Izuku has heard enough. Holding the sweater close with one hand, he cups Kacchan's face with the other and kisses him within an inch of his life. Soon, Izuku is wearing his sweater again. The lights of the tree keep twinkling, but Izuku only has eyes for Kacchan.

[koushisatori]

I’m not telling, that I’m hurting

matsukawa x f!reader

genre: a slight bit of angst, and then a slight bit of fluff

warnings: hm, maybe the slightly suggestive last sentence <3

word count: 5.8k

note: pls accept my ugly baby, my brain fried itself writing it  (09.12. finally beta’ed my ugly baby hehe)

remember how I said Kuroo is a chill boyfriend and is quick to show that he dislikes something, openly seething and brooding?

Mattsun is even more laid-back in general, there's probably a picture of him next to the word in the dictionary

BUT he also hides it super well when he doesn’t particularly like something

Like, you're probably not realizing that he’s upset or angry until he decides to be very, very obvious about it

and even if he can't hide it (bc it's not only one thing bothering him but more, extremely rare) he won't talk about it on his own

Which is not only exhausting for you but also straining on your relationship at those times

There are two different kinds of pissed though

It isn’t something he wears openly but he gets jealous pretty fast

you’re beautiful, smart, funny and friendly

you’re everything he wants in his significant other and he’d do anything for you, but he hates how there are truly people out there thinking they could be better for you and ask you out 

ofc they want a piece of your attention, he understands, it doesn't mean he that he can't hate it

Bc..maybe (and he would never admit it) he was a bit more insecure than he let on, hiding it under a perfectly trained appearance, all lazy smile, and sarcastic comments

this is his usual state of being pissed, and it’s exclusively reserved for and directed at others

After you officially became an item, it got better - it’s not hard to see that you two were a package deal match made in heaven

back to the day, you started dating:

you two weren’t yet a couple yet but you both were pretty obvious w your wants

There was that unspoken push and pull battle between you regarding who would give in first and ask the other out officially

That moment, you were standing next to Matsukawa holding his hand  which is amazing come on, his large hands engulfing yours is a blessing

(‘’Mattsunnn, my fingers are so cold, will you warm them up?’’ – ‘’That’s a lame attempt of an excuse, Y/N,’’ he had said while taking your hand anyway ‘’you could have that every day, you know, all you have to do is ask me first’’ – ‘’In your dreams, Issei ~’’ ) 

it didn’t stop that one guy from his class, so arrogant and sure of himself, from coming up to you, completely ignoring Matsukawa, and asking you out?? 

Mattsun did not like that AT ALL

If glares could kill, you’d have to visit your boyfriend in jail every week <3

you just gaped at the other, it was hard to believe that this guy was serious but…he waited for an answer

moments of staring were followed with you both simultaneously - he, hiding his annoyance with sarcasm, you mildly concerned for the others health - letting out a ''What the hell''

Before you could tell the other guy that you're not the slightest interested, Mattsun answered for you

''It's sooo cute of you to ask me, but I think it would be unfair of me to agree and just leave Y/N hanging like that…additionally, I only have one hand holding hand available and…'' he sighed deeply, lifting your still firmly intertwined fingers, his brown eyes boring into the other guys ''I have to hold her hand for her for…probably forever, so you're…a bit late.'' 

Letting him pull you away, you giggle ''You know you kind of declared us as offical, a couple, for everyone to hear.'' - ''I absolutely did not do such thing, I'm now simply eternally attached to you and your hand, that's a difference.''

You won that round nonetheless bc him telling the other off was THE gossip for the next week

Your best friend gave you the glorious idea to attend his game at the end of the week in his volleyball shirt but tease him a bit until then about wearing his friend's one 

''You know I should totally ask Tooru if he would lend me his jersey, just to make that jealous bitch in my class shut up and stop pestering me simply for actually knowing him.'', ''Have you seen Iwaizumi's biceps? Please tell me that you wouldn't totally support our strong ace…and maybe open a cult just for his arms. Let me drop all of my life duties real quick, I'm meant to be a good housewife.''; ''Taka-chan said he'd pay for my lunch the whole week if I'd come to your game showcasing his number, you wouldn't mind right?'' 

The thing that had happened and you riling him up all week ended with the other kind of anger which is the silent treatment, completed with a very cold shoulder (which is also, in all honest, his specialty)

him punishing you with silence the whole Thursday as well as Friday morning

He avoids being alone with you, answers messages as short as possible, spends his lunch starring at his food, and not making eye contact

(he's still watching you, just bc he is currently annoyed with you after deviling him so much, doesn't mean he stops wanting to kiss your pretty face until your lips are swollen and your cheeks dusted in pink and red)

The worst is that he KNOWS that you're teasing him but he can't help it okay, you found his achilles heel  </3

Anyways, of course, when the opposing team arrives and they warm-up, you want your…not boyfriend but close enough boy friend to stop moping around (Makki begged you: ''please do something, he won't clown the others or joke around with me, all he does is sulking'')

Even without Takahiro coming up though, you would have gone to him before the game but it just makes it more adorable and hilarious bc he is a bit dumb there, I mean?? The only hand you're holding (and love doing whenever possible) does not belong to either Makki, Iwaizumi, Oikawa, or anyone else for that matter

It wasn't an easy task to discreetly rob him off of his other tricot but you managed

So, while they were doing their warm-up drills you - with Hanamakis help - sneaked into the gym

wearing HIS number on your back and front, together with a pair of jeans that he had complimented on dates before (they make your backside look amazing and you can't tell me that he does not appreciate a nice ass)

After you teased him with the others for so long, he immediately perked up when Hanamaki playfully wolf-whistled at you from across the gym, adding an ''You look amazing, Y/N-chan. Wanna get some food later?'' 

(Makki and you - overdramatically calling each other Taka-chan & Y/N-chan whenever possible to mock Oikawa a bit as well - ended up being best friends. bonus: you both LOVE to irritate Mattsun every now and then since he really only looses some of his composure in relation to you)

glaring at his best friend, Matsukawa strode over to you and dragged you right out of the gym again

then, a few minutes of silence

him checking you out kind of hungrily, longingly (trying not to be obvious about it, too)

before you finally relent and pull him down, standing on your tiptoes

To flick his forehead with all the strength in your fingers :)

‘’The fuck, Y/N.’’

''You are a fucking morron, Issei, and you hopefully know that.'' you sigh, pressing your lips against the point your fingers had hit against to sooth it

Avoiding your gaze - hiding his excited blush - he answered with a noncommitting grunt and a shrug

''you better win this game, and warm up my hands right after, you let them turn to popsicles while not doing your job for nearly two days only bc you were petty''

The smile that now curled his lips while nodding was genuine

not the sarcastic one or the teasing smirk he wore usually for everyone to see

a small, very pleased, and very happy smile, one he offered rarely and only to you

After the game - and having to watch other people ogle your nicely hugged curves even with you wearing his shirt and yelling his name for at least 2/3 of the time - he swept you off of your feet by openly and rather dramatically kissing you all Disney-like (earning some gagging noises from his friends) and asking you out in the same over-the-top kind of way

Don't worry though, he usually only gets frisky 1. when you two are alone

2. when you both decide to annoy the others (but that's more of a show and lots of unnecessary nicknames and sounds - honestly please have some decency children are watching) 

and 3. when he becomes insecure jealous

You know if it's the jealousy burning in him

he's attempting to not show it to you

Yet his grip on your waist is a smidge stronger, his slightly amused expression a bit too tight, too strained to be natural, and he's uncooperative…more than usual

This specific thing happened, just now

 ''Mattsun…'' you murmur, struggling to turn around in his vice-like grip. 

You tried to loosen his arms around your waist a few times while ranting about the mathematical problem and the upcoming test you had, hoping he would offer you his help. To no avail. He probably didn't really realize that he was squeezing you to death or tuning you out. This is why you resorted to wiggling around in his hold until you were finally facing your huffy boyfriend. One of your hands on his biceps and your other playing with the hair in his neck in hopes to calm him down a bit.

''Who spat in your breakfast this morning, you're usually not that grumpy,'' you continue softly, your tone between teasing and worry. Even though you and Hanamaki enjoy riling him up you both always make sure to stay inside a certain limit. Nothing you couldn't solve with an apology, sweet kisses, and genuine assurances that it was nothing more than a joke. In the end, he is the only person that causes your heart to beat faster. The one you like…love. You knew that you loved him for some time now, the desire to have a perfect moment to announce it is the only thing keeping you from saying it out loud.

The shrug you receive wouldn't do it though. Him tending to let it consume him until he snaps is not good. Not for him, and for the relationship of the both of you as well. ''Issei, come on,..'' you gently prod, ''…tell me. Stop living up to your name and talk to me,''

There were a lot of reactions you expected. Another huff maybe, his usual 'Nothing' or even the true reason for his behavior. What you did not expect though was his annoyed groan and him nearly growling at you. ''Y/N, fucking leave it. Stop sticking your nose into my business. Don't you get that I don't want to talk?!''

For a second your breath hitches. The annoyance…slight anger in his voice startling you. ''Jesus fucking Christ, fine,'' you curse - now irritated yourself. It caught him off-guard enough due to its rareness of you cussing out loud. At least enough to push against his chest and free yourself off of his hold, successfully stopping him from just hiding his face away in your neck. ''If that’s what you want, fine. I'm sorry for worrying about you, Matsukawa.'' you say provokingly before you let out a small sigh, ''I'll go to class, maybe Hajime is back from chasing the Captain and can actually help me with math…listens to me, to begin with. Not mope around to the point of ignoring me for some unknown reason.'' with that said you turn around on your heels and leave him standing.

You know he would eventually come around in the next few hours. You hope. Mattsun wasn't or rather isn't angry with you. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been as close to you as he had been but his inability to merely talk with you about what was and is bothering him proves to be one of the few reasons that are able to drive you up the wall.

Mathematics being mathematics, the problem wasn't just simply explained within those ten minutes before class started.

If things were normal, you wouldn't be as bothered as you are right now though. Issei would find a way to get it into your pretty little head. He knew how to explain and what to transcribe for you to get the idea behind all those letters and lines scrawled between the numbers.

The problem is that you usually did this in the calmness of your rooms on the weekend. As it seems though, did most people get the problem from the get to go and the teacher decided to write the topical test in your afternoon class today instead of next week, so she could begin with the new thematic on Monday.

Alas, you're fucked.

Not only would you get the worst grade in your whole mathematical carrier but you also couldn't ask your boyfriend, and listen to his deep gentle yet teasing voice explaining stupid equations to you with him being so infuriatingly upset over whatever.

 To your luck, Iwaizumi offers to be your knight in shining armor in extreme times of need. (He tried to convince you to just go to Mattsun because ''He's head over heels for you, don't tell me a stupid fight holds you both back from being insufferable together, Y/N'' - ''We can't be fighting, when he doesn't talk or listen to me.''.) Sacrificing a free hour and his precious lunchtime sitting on the school's rooftop with you, he explains the procedure over and over again. 

After what felt like a whole notebook full of wrong exercises and another one with their corrected versions, the structure of the problem does finally make sense to you. Now cheerfully humming, you look over older tasks you didn't get before when he decides to speak up.

''Y/N?'' Iwaizumi asks, his voice completely calm and…soothing?

''Hmm…'' you hum letting him know that you're listening while correcting another exercise.

''Mattsun will relax once we won that game, okay? Don't be so hard on him.'' His words caught you off-guard, which leads you to look up, question mark clear on your face. ''It's against Akumahebi? The ones that provoked and insulted him so underhandedly last time? Hit all his nerves spot on?'' he adds questioning.

Lips forming a big 'O'. You remember today's opponents vividly.

Seijoh first played against them at the end of your second year, a few weeks after you and Mattsun had started talking with different intentions than throwing terrible pick up lines at each other. Foremost for shit and giggles but actually starting to have hope that the other might mean it.

They stood at the other side of the net and began with their unsportsmanlike strategy by haunting him. ''Imagine thinking someone so mediocre could be rightfully on the field next to players like your ace, could compete against someone like Iwaizumi Hajime.'' or ''The only reason you're on the field is your height, the first years will take over your spot sooner than you think. You are replaceable after all.''. There was no obvious reason for them to pick out Issei but they did. Hissing different things under their breath. You guessed that it's because he always looked so unbothered. As if nothing could wilt his stupidly attractive lopsided smirk.

Afterward, the four of you had a hard time convincing him that those snakes knew shit. That he was on the team for his skills, his amazing blocking, and strategical thinking ability, not his height. That he would be a regular until he left the volleyball club and that he was respected by all of his kouhais.

''Shit,…them? Really?'' you jut our your lower lip. ''He didn't tell me...but I also didn't ask.'' you admit guiltily. ''Well, then I have to cheer extra loud for Issei, I think.'' A triumphant smile stretches across your face, gripping the collar of your uniform with one and pulling up the collar of the jersey underneath with the other. Enough to see the Seijoh colors to come to light. You had stolen it out of your boyfriend's bag two days ago after he went to the bathroom and had hidden it in your desk drawer until today. You nearly forgot to put it on after you accidentally slept in this morning, so you kind of just threw it over your head while hoping to not fall over trying to get into your tights. ''I'm ready to scream at the top of my lungs for my favorite player,…'' you say before you at least partly bashful add ''…no offense. You are my second favorite star player, Haji.''

At that, Iwaizumi simply laughs and playfully pushes against your shoulder. 

Later that evening you found yourself wearing one of Issei's ridiculously large pullovers and sweatpants, sitting wrapped up in blankets on your couch in the living room. Your chest hurting from swallowed and choked up sobs. Even though your parents weren't home when you arrived and wouldn't be for the next two days, enjoying a long-planned short vacation, you didn't allow yourself to cry. A gory horror movie on-screen meant to distract you from your thoughts ends up being nothing more than background noises while wallowing in self-pity.

At one point, Oikawa and Iwaizumi stood at your door - even though you hoped that it would be a certain boy you loved - worried glances boring into your skull from the first second on, and never ceasing.

You didn't even know if your team won or lost. It wasn't like you asked them either.

All you cared for is Issei. Issei, who seemingly decided that he would stop caring for you.

___________________________________

Iwaizumi-senpai and Y/N-senpai would make an adorable couple, don't you think?

You leaving him to make true on your words intensified the insecurities that had just started to brood underneath the surface a few days ago. He couldn't help it, but he definitely would not share those silly thoughts with you.

Issei knew they were wrong. But that didn't stop them from invading the darkest corners of his brain.

You have to agree that Y/N-san and Iwaizumi-san seem really close.

Overhearing the first years giggling about his girlfriend and one of his best friends being a cute couple amplified all of it. Also…he realized just now…since when do you call Iwaizumi by his name? When did he allow you to call him Hajime?

''Have you seen him smile like that with another girl? I, for my part, haven't seen that smile off the court where he can do the thing he loves the most.'' 

 ''Oh, stop, Y/N-senpai has a boyfriend! Don't you know? I feel uncomfortable speculating about something like that.''

 '' 'Course, I know! I just say that, if I were in a relationship with someone, I'd want my boyfriend to be a bit more…relationship-y about it, you know? Like, yeah, they hold hands and they hug. But all they do besides this is banter meaninglessly…more like friends, not like a couple should behave! Iwaizumi-san, though, even without being as close to her bodily, gives off more intense boyfriend vibes than this other player.''

''His name is Matsuka-'' 

‘'And, Y/N-senpai calls him Hajime, I think she even said Haji once, isn't that cute?!''

''Stop it, stupid! You shouldn't be so loud with your words, you might spread something accidentally. And just because she gives them nicknames doesn't imply anything. I'm also giving you nicknames! And, she looks happy with Matsu-''

‘'Yeah yeah, but you don't like me like that. Anyway, just think about it! Would you really say no to someone like Iwaizumi-san though…? What I'd give for him to at least look at me like that. If I were Y/N-sa-''

''You aren't, can we go now, don’t wanna be late for class because of you again.''

 Iwaizumi did seem to feel extra relaxed around you. And you seemed to like his presence as well. 

What if those first years had a point?

For the second time that day, he growled.

No, there was nothing to doubt or think about. It wasn't unusual of you to use their names. You literally started calling Hanamaki 'Taka-chan' within 10 minutes of knowing each other. Making friends was easy for you, and that you and Iwaizumi were in the same class with Oikawa probably just strengthened your bond with each other to endure the Captain's antics.

Issei nodded to himself, decidedly ignoring the little whisper of doubt in the back of his mind for now.

''I am not jealous.'' The black-haired student repeated this sentence in his mind over and over again. His best friend wouldn't do such a thing as 'stealing you away', nor would you leave him like that. People should shut their mouths. Mind their own problems. And because of him definitely not being insecure jealous, there was nothing he had to tell you.

Around lunchtime, Matsukawa decided to make good on his words and apologize to you. He would explain that he just felt on edge due to the game against this specific team, you would forgive him and then things would be back to normal…hopefully. The problem was, that he couldn't find you. Not in your classroom nor with your friends, who didn't have any idea regarding your whereabouts as well.

The dark-haired blocker was about to send you a message to ask you to meet him before your last lesson and his volleyball practice when he hears your beautiful laugh coming from the staircase right in front of him. Pressing himself to the wall he watches you coming down from the school roof with Iwaizumi, jumping into his arms with a blinding smile and running off to your class a second later.

''Would you really say no to someone like Iwaizumi?  ~ Imagine thinking you could compete against someone like your ace.''

With the greasy, suffocating feeling of jealousy burning in the pit of his stomach, he storms off in the other direction.

 Right before warming up for the game in the afternoon, he heard you chatting with Hanamaki in front of the locker room while he was changing. And while the door opened - Kyoutani walking in and Oikawa leaving to fullfil his captain duties conscientiously - he looked at his strawberry haired friend and your back. For the split second he could see you, he realized just how much having you around all day means to him. His eyes wandered. Over your softly shining hair. Slowly outlining your in Seijoh-colours clad shoulders, down your arms to your elbow where they are bent to cross in front of your chest to hold your jacket and uniform pullover. Then down your back and-

With an annoyed huff, he found himself throwing his locker door in its lock, bending down to pull up his knee pads more aggressively than necessary. Ignoring the curious looks and whispers from his teammates he simply grunted out an Ok, when Makki came in telling him that you would be waiting for him.

__________________________

Issei 💗👁️👅👁️: go, I'm not coming to see ya', don't need ur encourgmnt or you now You: Mattsun, what's wrong, honestly, you're scaring me Issei 💗👁️👅👁️: sure You: come on, I wanna support and show who's my favorite player Issei 💗👁️👅👁️: hilarious, stay, go home, idc

__________________________

"Hey, Y/N-chan, what I meant to ask you earlier…why were you wearing Iwa-chan's shirt." Oikawa carefully questions, his perfectly shaped eyebrow shooting up to emphasize his words.

"I diD wHAT NOW?" - "She did what?!"

Without wasting a second you jump up from under your blanket mountain and sprint up the stairs to your room to look through your hamper.

There it was, that goddamn tricot. A 4 looking right back at you instead of a 3 or 2. It brought every process of thought to an halt.

"But I- 2 days- what, I got this- I was in-" you stop again, slowly turning your head to Iwaizumi, pointing at him. "Since when were you missing this?"

The ace immediately straightens up under your intense gaze. "Three days? No two? Since our last practice, I guess. Kyoutani and Yahaba had some…problems and fought it out in the locker room. But I…wasn't missing it! I thought that it might be in the laundry by accident.'' he answers hesitantly.

You blink. A few times. Nod. And then a loud laugh starts to bubble out of you, interchanging itself with heavy sobs, forcing you to fold into yourself  and hide your face in your hands.

With a worried expression, Oikawa kneels down beside you. ''Y/N-chan…are you okay?''

"He's so fucking dumb, Tooru, why do I even love him? And I am, too!" You hiccup pitifully. "Makki and he switch numbers from time to time, in case you haven't realized. They say it's because it doesn't really matter in the end, it’s fun to confuse others and the worst that could happen is that they forget to wash it before the other wears it,'' you add, a little laugh escapes your lips before your voice breaks in favor of a hiccup again. ''I guess they were about to do that again but with Mad Dog on the loose, the chaos was enough to mix up all the shirts on the bench completely. And since I stole this one secretly out of Issei's bag when he went to the bathroom and quickly hid it to surprise him today, I accidentally grabbed the wrong one instead of his without realizing it."

You gasp for air, your stuffed nose making it difficult to breathe properly. "And then you have to play against this team, out of all possibilities, it's them! So, of course, he's already fed up, and then I'm wearing Hajimes number who he already kind of feels inferior to on the court, where he's the ace and vice-captain first and not his best friend, due to this stupid fucks picking on his insecurities. Fuck!"

For a second you bury your head in your hands again. "No, you know what, fuck this. I don't need him to bury that shit in himself again, or to have stupid thoughts, or leave me because of it'' you furiously hiccup, standing up. ''I can go over, too, and put that behind us.''

 The first time you actually took a second to breathe and evaluate the situation, you had already rung the bell at the Matsukawa family house. Thrice. For good measure. (And so he knew that there's no way out, that you wouldn't leave.) After waiting for solid 5 minutes - knowing that he'd usually reach the door in under a minute, one if he had napped before, you glare at the window above. A strawberry pink colored patch of hair peek out from underneath.

''Alright, if that's what you want'' you grumble. Going over to the trellis and climbing up on it onto the small canopy before finalizing your unauthorized entry by narrowing your furious eyes at two unbelieving faces. Well…he should never have dared you to try to enter his room like this for a joke in the first place when you first became friends. Now, he would definitely not escape you.

''Open. Now. I will break this dumb window, if that's the only way to get you to talk to me, Issei.''

In the end, minutes of starring later, Hanamaki relents and opens the window. ''Thanks,'' you say sweetly before you chop at the strawberry haired boy's side. ''Y/N-chan, I thought we had something special,'' he wheezes, holding his side.

''We have a talk later, Makki, this was only for not opening the door now'' you say, promptly throwing him out of your boyfriend's room. Your voice seemed to sound scary enough for him to leave rather freely. Or at least it made clear that there was no space for buts. That this was a talk between Mattsun and You. Alone with your boyfriend, you turn around to face Matsukawa. To glare at him.

''What do yo-'' - ''Shut up, Issei. You're going to listen and talk to me right now without filter.'' you hiss. While he tried to keep his cool demeanor, the black-haired boy swung his legs off of the bed to sit properly and not slouch, wanting to listen to you. Wanting you to explain…probably.

''Issei, you morron, you deserve the hardest forehead flick in the history of forehead flicks! What were you thinking?! Why didn't you just tell me that it was them you had to play against today? I would have done everything for you to feel better. I would have been understanding of your mood because I know what they did, but no. You decide to be jealous instead? Of Hajime out of all people? Give me a statement and I will refute it within seconds, whatever you want. Come one, test me. And I dare you to shrug just once,...just once!, and I will - even though I lo-. I will freaking kick your dumb ass to the moon..''

A snort, unfairly attractive and so very Mattsun, leaves him. ''As if you could reach that hig-'' - ''Thin fucking ice, Matsukawa.'' 

With a sigh, he scratches the back of his neck. ''Why were you saying you want to 'support' your favorite player when you were wearing Iwa's shirt? I mean I can’t prescribe who you like, I guess, it’s your decision...but,...hah,...maybe don’t make it sound...I dont know.'' Issei asks straight away, watching the ground between you. 

''Because certain volleyball players I know like to change jersey numbers after practice. And because of Mad Dog-chan being on the hunt for Yahaba's head, a very specific already mentioned player took the wrong shirt with him, which ended with me accidentally stealing said wrong shirt.'' you vaguely answer, watching him tense up. ''Now it's my turn. Why are you so specifically bothered by it being Hajimes?''

 ''I…it's-'' looking up, he met your eyes already narrowing again. You expect him to say 'It's nothing'. No, it was important to say it now, even if it was embarrassing. ''I heard people talking,...saying that he'd be better for you than me. That…that you liking him that way is just a question of time. And while I was sure that that's not true…I asked myself…am I really what Y/N wants? Are you bothered by the way we are in public? Are we couple-y enough for you? I was on my way to apologize when I saw you both coming from the roof. You seemed so happy, so excited. I started to worry…that if he was to ask you out…would you truly choose me? Do I make you look and feel as happy as you seemed to be earlier with Iwa?''

 Him not meeting your eyes bothers you. How could he understand if he's not looking? You slowly walk over, giving him time to say stop or move away from you…but he doesn't. Standing between his legs you gently cup his cheeks and make him look up into your eyes. Make him see.

''Let's start somewhere…thank you for being open and honest with me. Okay, firstly, I was on the roof with him so he could explain math to me. I didn't want to sit in a classroom and let others hear how troubled I was by what seems to be one of the easiest mathematical equations in existence. And since I was occupying his lunch break, Haji at least wanted to have some quiet for eating if he sacrifices his time like that.'' you chuckle slightly before you meet his eyes again.

''Secondly,...Issei,'' you murmur now, caressing his cheeks gently. ''why would you believe things about our relationship coming from people that don't take part in it? Hm? They don't know us. They don't get to spend nap time with us, arcade and ramen dates, or movie nights. They don't see how you treat me away from curious eyes and ears. We aren't any less of a couple just because others have a different opinion on how couples should be to the public eye.'' you say, your undertone loving and warm. ''It's not Iwaizumi who I love. I have chosen you because you are the one. I love you.'' you emphasize the words. You never imagined the moment to be like that, but it feels right to come clean with the depth of your feelings now. His cheeks heating up in between your hands is an extra treat.

''I love you when you smile all lazily at me after sleeping. I love you when your voice drips with sarcasm and mischief. I love you when we argue over who has ultimately won the worst pick-up line contest - which is me by the way.'' you grin, shushing his protest by resting your thumb on his lips. ''I love you even when we fight. When you get jealous and grumpy. I love you even though you regularly tell Taka-chan how you'd sell me to Satan for a corn chip, just to mention this stupid bird meme. I love you to bits, you sweet but silly idiot, and I'd chose you all over again if I was to wake up in another parallel universe. Because I know, that you'll always treat me right. Because I'm sure that you feel this, too.''

While you were speaking, your boyfriend's arms slowly but steadily started to move past the last bit of resistance, wrapping them loosely around you and pulling you tighter with every said word.

''I mean it when I say that I get why you felt so uneasy today. However they do it, they manage to crawl under your skin. And that's human, Issei. To be overwhelmed, anxious, or insecure. But please, don't risk us falling apart by letting it eat away on you silently.'' You whisper.

''Y/N, I'm sorry…and I promise to try and talk when I feel bothered again. And-'' A surprised squeak leaves your lips at the sudden movement of your boyfriend. ‘’I love you, too.’’ Giggling, you look up to the dark-haired blocker, who is now towering over you, caging you in his arms. ''You look so irrestistable in my clothes, you should wear them more often.'' Issei continues, the smirk on his lips finally being close to the one he usually wore, eyeing you still wearing his way to big pants and sweatshirt. Then, Mattsun finally - Finally! - leans down to kiss you thoroughly, seemingly keen on making up for the wasted time. Nibbling on your lip, tasting and teasing you, eliciting sweet little sounds that sound oh so much like heaven. He had missed this the whole day.

Deciding to give the both of you a second to breathe, he leans back enough to study your now glowing expression. You lick your lips, watching a suddenly burning interest flaring up in his eyes due to the breathlessness in your voice. ''I have a proposition, you know.'' You begin, softly tracing his features with your pointer finger, smiling innocently. ''If you don't want people to doubt our closeness in this relationship…maybe you should show them just how good you make me feel when I have you all to myself, hm?'' You murmur with a seducing tone, watching him process your words, his slightly heated gaze not leaving yours.

Him diving right back in and whispering a litany of 'I love yous' was answer enough.

Bonus:

[just-anka]

It's 8 pm on a Friday, I finished work about 5 minutes ago, and my last act of the day was sending some new data to my supervisor in an email that I'm pretty sure told him exactly just how fried my brain is 🤣 so now is the ideal time for a PhD update, yes?

In short, PhD is still kicking my ass - the last few months have been full on, and there's more of that coming up. A few weeks ago I was whingeing to Ben about how every time I think I've got a more relaxed week coming, something else comes up/needs preparing for etc and he was like "I'm pretty sure that's the definition of grad school". I guess that's true. But it's the good kind of hard, you know? I'm still so excited about what I get to do every day.

Since January, I've been double busy with writing a paper with my predecessor PhD and planning and running a big screening experiment. Big experiment is now wrapped up and the data analysis is really fun, I love coding and it's given me a great mix of working from home and going into the lab - I'm really thriving on that and reaaaally wish we could keep that going past covid lockdowns. Sigh. The paper has been a bit of a rough road, but it's also finally getting close to being finished! I'm really proud of that.

In the next two months, I have my first presentation in our big lab meeting coming up (our whole department + another department, so many smart people), am presenting in a conference (even more scary BY FAR), am enrolled in two grad school courses, and hope to finish up the paper. Whew. After that I'll probably be ready for a couple weeks off lol, already dreaming of summer adventures

[ghostnebula]

Sincere and Dignified

“Eddie's twenty-first birthday + The entire Losers' Club + Las Vegas + Being in love with your best friend = Well, exactly what you'd expect.”

[read it on Ao3]

(or here)

    Eddie’s birthday is in November. Which makes him the youngest member of the Losers’ Club. Which makes him the last Loser to turn twenty-one.

    Which means they go all-out to celebrate, since it’s the first time they can all (legally) celebrate together. And because they’ve kind of forgone “proper” twenty-first birthday festivities for everyone else, so no one would ever feel left out. Finally, no one needs to be left out of it.

    They’ve all been living together for over three years now, they’re all getting close to graduating from college, and they all saved up for this one, because this is pretty much it. The last big, fun, tangible milestone in their young lives. The last “new” thing they’re earning the right to do (legally) after driving and voting. You bet your ass they go ham on Eddie’s birthday plans.

    That’s how they end up in Vegas. Several long weeks of planning, lots of money they scraped together into jars over the last few years ready to be spent, checking and double-checking every class syllabus to make sure no one misses anything important on Friday (they have to be at their hotel in time for check-in or, between Stan and Eddie, someone will pitch a fit). Then they’re all piling into Ben’s station wagon with as little luggage as they could manage to bring for a weekend trip (the station wagon is “spacious”; it is not a fucking miracle vehicle).

    Roughly ten hours later (five hours for driving, two for check-in plus cramming all their crap into the motel room and then attempting to organize it, one for figuring out and agreeing on where to even start with the partying, two more for getting ready) Eddie Kaspbrak has his first legal drink as a proper twenty-one year old, on this night of November third, and there’s no aftertaste of guilt like usual. He’s got Richie pushing shots into his hands, Mike making sure he’s eating some snacks once in a while so he doesn’t get too trashed too fast, Bev directing bartenders to make the most delicious fucking drinks he thinks he’ll ever taste in his life (Porn Stars, or something else inappropriate like that).

    He has Bill, the oldest, practically under oath to stay sober (at least for tonight) so there’s one semi-coherent Loser present to keep the rest of them safe and sane until he can drag them all back to the motel.

    He has a wad of cash in his pocket, a chunk of his savings from the past year, ready to blow on booze and gambling and whatever the fuck he wants, because it’s his birthday, so he’s allowed to do whatever the fuck he wants.

    It’s safe, and more importantly, it’s legal, and most importantly, it’s Vegas. He never thought he’d ever have the balls to set foot in a place like this -- the kind of place his mother would demonize when he was a kid. Drinking, before he left Derry and his mom and the vice grip she had on his life, was completely out of the question, let alone getting hammered in a casino in Sin City, of all fucking places, under the care of the “evil little shits” he calls his best friends.

    He more than lets loose. He lets twenty-one years of virtually non-stop anxiety unwind in one night.

    When he wakes up the next morning, hung over for the first time in his life, it’s almost worth it. Bill’s the only motherfucker awake already, being that he’s the only one who doesn’t have several bottles of vodka et al. to sleep off, and he’s draped across the ratty arm chair in their ratty motel room, channel-surfing with the television volume as low as it can get. The light burns Eddie’s eyes, still, when he lifts his head and -- instead of turning, his head just kind of lolls on his shoulders until he can look at Bill properly.

    He wants to ask him to end his suffering, which he can only assume he has yet to see the worst of. Suddenly he understands why aspirin exists. He wants Bill to pump him full of painkillers until he stops feeling like he’s made of electrified cotton. Instead, he says, articulately, “Guh.”

    Bill turns his attention from Scooby-Doo to where Eddie is half-lying, trapped under the weight of Richie’s arm and half his chest. Richie is snoring away, glasses askew on his face, a cooling puddle of drool soaking Eddie’s shoulder. It’s gross, but he can’t really complain at this point. He’s accustomed to it by now.

    “Ah, he lives.”

    “Ugh,” says Eddie.

    “I bet,” says Bill. “So, do you want a recap of the events of last night, or did you keep your promise and remember every life-altering decision you chose to make?”

    Bill’s voice, which he’s hardly putting much effort into keeping down -- owing to the fact that all his effort is being channeled into trying not to laugh, and Eddie can’t even begin to fathom what’s so funny -- is causing the other Losers to stir. His splitting headache doesn’t want him to try to figure out what’s funny. He must have fried a metric shitload of braincells with all those Porn Stars last night, or whatever the fuck sugary booze Bev was pouring down his throat before everything went hazy.

    “Life-altering?” he repeats after a few moments, as Richie’s arm finally stops crushing him. It’s the only word that really stands out to him in the jumbled mess of hangover discomfort his brain is fighting, and it should cause him anxiety but he’s more worried, right now, about drinking some water. Richie sits up beside him, yawning.

    Bill hums. He looks terribly pleased with himself, which can be good or bad depending which side of the story you’re on, and Eddie’s got this sneaking suspicion he’s on the wrong side, here. “Yeah, that life-altering thing I tried to talk you two dipshits out of for longer than the actual ceremony took?”

    “Ceremony?” Eddie asks, trying to feel back through his poor, poor brain to remember anything after slot machines and vibrant chatter and deceptively sweet beverages being passed to him. Richie’s head drops onto his shoulder as his arms wrap around Eddie’s waist. “Guh,” he says into the fabric of Eddie’s rumpled shirt. Habitually, Eddie reaches up to pat him consolingly on the head. Richie’s not one for mornings.

    “Why don’t you take a look at your ring finger, birthday boy?” Bill says, but Eddie’s already frozen, because there was a flash when he raised his hand and he’s not entirely sure he’s believing what he’s seeing, and where the fuck did he even get the ring anyway, let alone a ring as nice as this? “Or, sorry, I should say: Mr. Tozier?”

    Eddie... mostly ignores him, in favour of smacking Richie a few times on the skull to get his attention, hangovers be damned. “Richie,” he hisses, heart going a mile a minute. “The fuck did I do?”

    Richie grumbles some kind of complaint, lifting his head from its safe space on Eddie’s shoulder, and when he follows Eddie’s gaze he lets out a kind of... laugh? More of a squawk, really. His left arm jerks off of Eddie’s waist lightning-quick, and then he’s holding up his own hand beside Eddie’s to show off their matching rings. “Oh my god,” he says, quiet (for Richie). A little bit of tension melts out of him. Then, “I think you mean, ‘the fuck did we do?’”

    “Oh my god,” Eddie squeaks, and Bill loses his battle and dissolves into peals of laughter, remote slipping out of his hands and landing somewhere on the floor. “Bill, you were supposed to be babysitting.”

    It takes a while, but Bill manages to regain his composure long enough to say, “Well forgive me, but you were a man on a mission. I distinctly remember a lot of, ‘we’re practically dating anyway’ and ‘no time like the present’ and ‘Bill, if you don’t step the fuck off I’m gonna shove this ring so far up your nostril you’ll be sneezing gold until you’re ninety.’ What was I gonna do about it?”

    “Oh my god,” Eddie says again, red-faced, mortified, heart still going-going-going. They aren’t dating, though, is the problem, and yeah, he’s always had this stupid little idea in his stupid little head that they might as well be, but he’s never asked, because he wasn’t sure if he should. Wasn’t sure if it was safe. Wasn’t sure if Richie wanted something proper or to just stay very, very close friends until the grave. They weren’t dating, and now they’re married, and ohJesusMaryandJoseph why did he let himself get so drunk last night?

    He doesn’t expect Richie to be resentful or anything, but he’s also an anxious mess by default, and post-drunken-haze Eddie is a different, apparently less chill person than mid-drunken-haze Eddie, because he doesn’t remember having this freakout last night.

    He doesn’t think that Richie will be pissed about it, necessarily, but he’s terrified that Richie’s going to want to... undo this, somehow.

    He expects regret.

    He doesn’t expect Richie to slide his hand against Eddie’s so that their rings clack together, letting out a soft little, “Aw,” as he does so, or to press his scratchy, stubbly face against Eddie’s cheek to plant a kiss there, or to say, just as quiet and soft as ever, “We’re married, Eds.”

    “Is that okay?” Eddie asks, heart in his throat, wondering if he somehow forced Richie into this when he wasn’t in full control of his faculties.

    “More than okay,” Richie says. “Is it okay with you?”

    Eddie nods dumbly, staring at their rings again, wondering what the fuck possessed them to make such a rash, life-altering decision like this, yet understanding all too well that his love for Richie is too big to contain and it has to spill out in little doses like this, or it’ll probably kill him, or make him go crazy. “Yeah,” he says finally, nodding perhaps too fast. “Yeah, Richie, it’s more than okay.”

    He turns in Richie’s arms to kiss him properly, apparently not for the first time, and just the action brings a couple snippets of last night’s escapades abruptly to the surface.

*

    “$25 Weddings,” a pink neon sign outside a squat white chapel proclaims, “Sincere and Dignified.” And below that, in smaller, baby blue lettering: “Can provide: Flowers, Rings, Witnesses, Transportation, Attire...” The list goes on. It’s a wonder Eddie is coherent enough to read it, let alone comprehend it, but he’s rounding on Richie, whose arm he’s hanging off of, with the best fucking idea already leaping from his lips.

*

    “Ffffffuck Kaspbrak,” Eddie slurs as a reluctant Bill helps him slip on a suit jacket, fiddling with the purple clip-on bowtie Richie threw over the divider at him. “Fuck Kaspbrak, right, Rich?”

    “Right,” Richie says enthusiastically -- probably too enthusiastically -- from the other side of the thin wooden divider that separates their “changing rooms.”

    “Fuck that name,” Eddie decides, nodding to himself. Bill takes the bowtie out of his hands with a sigh, and Eddie lifts his chin to let Bill fasten it to his shirt, grumbling all the while about how stupid they both are. “And fuck my mom.”

    “Fuck your mom!” Richie shouts. There’s a beat of relative quiet, then, “Not, like, fuck your mom, obviously. Fuck... you, maybe?” And then Bev’s raucous laughter echoes through the whole room.

    Eddie can’t help laughing with her, even though Bill’s insisting he stay still “so you can at least look semi-presentable for your pictures, c’mon, Eddie, this is a big moment for me, too.”

*

    “How are you the bridezilla, here, Bill?”

    “Could you please just work with me here, I swear to-- agh!” (More laughter from Bev. Stan saying something incomprehensible but loud and boisterous. Mike trying to shush them.) “I’m just trying to make sure this is actually special since you absolute buffoons refuse to just wait and do this right.” Is Bill fucking crying?

*

    Richie’s tongue down Eddie’s throat, over and over and over: in the chapel; in a bar; in front of the bar; just before Bill drags them away from the casino they’re trying to sneak back into and instead towards the station wagon he’s doing his best to herd the Losers to; in the station wagon; in front of the motel.

    Bill prying them apart with minimal assistance from a piss-drunk Ben who insists he’s “helping,” telling them once again that they are not allowed to consummate their fucking marriage in public, and especially not allowed to do it in the motel room all seven of them have to sleep in--

*

    He hears Bev’s little “aww” behind him somewhere as he and Richie break apart, and Stan’s grief about how fucking early it is “for this shit.” Eddie can hear something like a smile in his voice, if not just plain old amusement.

    “We’re married, Rich,” Eddie repeats incredulously, and Bill is saying something about their marriage license in his wallet because neither of them can be trusted, but Eddie couldn’t care less about licenses or whatever, because Richie’s smiling down at him in that way that makes his heart feel too full. And he doesn’t mean to, but a choked noise bubbles up out of him, almost a sob, maybe a laugh. Tears burn in his eyes.

    But that’s alright, because Richie’s crying already, and he wraps himself bodily around Eddie, rolling them over so he’s squishing him into the mattress while he kisses all over his face and his throat until Eddie’s squealing with laughter despite his agonizing hangover. He almost feels too good to care about it now, but he’s definitely getting some water and painkillers into his system the second the weird high he’s feeling subsides.

    “Okay, okay,” says Stan, standing above them suddenly, swatting at Richie’s shoulders. “You’ve had your fun. Noisy assholes. We were too drunk for proper congratulations last night. Move over.”

    All the Losers squeeze themselves onto the queen bed, somehow, and water bottles and aspirin get passed around. At some point Bill gets up to start the coffeemaker and comes back with (good fucking lord) their “wedding photos” in a crisp manila envelope. They’re just as gaudy as he expected. Leave it to Richie to find the ugliest possible outfit for his literal wedding.

    Eddie gets hugs and shoulder-squeezes and cheek-kisses from everyone, over and over, and Bev actually cries for about ten full minutes while she holds him, then at least ten more while she holds Richie, and then Ben cries, and... well, they all end up crying all over each other, but it’s awash with joy. “We’re happy for you,” they keep saying, and Eddie’s happy for them, too. He didn’t expect to accidentally do things this way, but he has to be glad it happened.

    “God,” he says a while later, shaking his head as he sips sugary coffee from the mug he and Richie are sharing (this room is meant for four people, max, not seven, and is equipped accordingly). He’s still examining a picture of Richie attempting to give him a piggy-back ride out of the chapel. Bill is visible in the background, eyes red and puffy, a wad of tissues clenched in his hand while Mike tries to console him. Eddie has been making fun of him for about half an hour now. “My mom would flip if I told her about this.” But the thought doesn’t scare him. He doesn’t get scared of her anymore. Not like he used to. Not when he’s so far away and he feels so safe with these six idiots who bring so much joy to his life.

    Richie’s thumb rubs over the skin of his lower back where his hand has crept up Eddie’s shirt. “Good thing you don’t have to,” he says, and that familiar mantra of “You never have to see her again,” bleeds through, plain as ever.

    Eddie hums. Passes the coffee back to him. “I know. But... I kinda want to. Just to watch her head explode,” he says with a shrug and a grin, earning a chorus of easy laughter from his friends. He stares at the ring on Richie’s finger as Richie throws back the rest of their coffee, something warm and familiar blooming brighter in his chest.

[iwriteficsandmore]

A Little Piece of You

Oh shit, haha! Forgot to put a preview here. Hi! I’m alive! Have been busy writing for my other WIPs but wanted to get this out here bc I love you guys and also this was a cute af soulmate au. Thanks to @insanemarshmallow for the wonderful explanation of this chibi soulmate AU! Also god bless the settphel pairing of league of legends. It gave me the right amount of inspiration for a cute and angtsy oneshot :D

For a child, it's a wondrous thought the one of knowing you would one day find a soulmate. Even more so when you constantly saw it everywhere you went. People going about their lives with cute tiny versions of that one person that belonged with them and whom they were to spend the rest of their lives with. It was a fairytale on its own. One that became yours to live once you turned eighteen and that little piece of them came to you. It was a strange thing to see it happen, but just as great as you thought it'd be when a tiny version of your soulmate hatched from its egg. It had been born alongside you, a reminder that you, too, had someone waiting for you once you grew. You took care of that egg when young knowing how precious it was after hearing so many stories of happily ever afters. And now you finally had it. Alive. 

The first thing that came out of the shell when it broke were red feathers. They poked out somewhat matted and ruffled as it finally emerged and huge amber eyes met yours. His tiny hands ruffled his dark blonde hair back. Chills ran down him as he shook himself out of his stupor and traveled from his head all the way to his toes and tiny wings, sprouting at the end like a blown-up balloon. He was adorable. And the first and only thing he said was his name: Keigo. Finally, you had your very own soulmate! 

But...the experience of having a soulmate was tiring to say the least. 

You didn't know if it was just Keigo, but taking care of this particular red bird was a full-time job. Quirks were already a problem to deal with in and of themselves. But that the small part of your soulmate's soul could readily use those wings of his to fly all around your house was a bigger problem in itself. When you got him at first you thought about keeping him in a cage whenever you had to go out and couldn't take him with you. The first few times, though, you noted how sad he was when you came home. The way he clung to you every time you let him out and how those massive tears welled up in his eyes broke you inside. You threw that cage away after a week of having it. Having no place to keep him however meant that you needed to teach him to be careful. If Keigo wanted to be free, he needed to be careful lest he be taken away or hurt. Little Keigo didn't take that lesson fully to heart until after a little incident with a cat. After that, he would stay close to you whenever you took him outside with you. It took almost a full year to get used to him, but once you did, it was like you two had been together for your whole life. 

Little Keigo was fun to be around with, always enjoying the things you did with him. His taste for chicken got you to learn plenty of new recipes. He slept soundly with you, his little hands always cradling your thumb when he slept in the palm of your hand. And those feathers. You kind of figured what his Quirk was simply by the way he would control all those feathers on his crimson wings. Thing was that he would try to help you at times with things a little too heavy for him which was both worrying and sweet in equal measures. 

Sadly not everything was nice. Not long after he was born did you notice that he began showing signs of pain. Always different places but very visibly hurting. Like someone was hitting or hurting him somehow. You knew the wounds wouldn't show, but seeing him always tired and in pain for days on end would cause your heart to ache to no end. There were also times when his feathers would simply fall with no explanation. It wasn't him controlling them either. They would simply fall and turn a dark brown like petals falling from flowers. And in a way, it was, because when that happened, it would take several days for new ones to grow. Although you were saddened that he was grumpy and glum from being unable to fly, a part of you was also glad. Only when his feathers fell like that did he ever seem to take any breaks and rest. 

'It's your soulmate,' your mother said when you asked her. 'He's reacting to the soul bond between them. There's nothing you can do except wait it out with him.'

And it's exactly what you did. You never questioned it nor chastised him. You knew it wouldn't serve any purpose. Instead, you took care that Keigo wouldn't suffer anymore from your end than his counterpart was already going through. It still hurt though, seeing him hurting. But what stung your heart the most was the way that sometimes tears would just spring from him out of the blue. It happened during the middle of the night almost always and when that crying woke you up, it tore at your heart that you could do nothing more than hold him close and soothe that tiny part of his soul. 

A couple more years went by like that—sometimes painfully, most rather joyfully—until you figured it out. 

It was during dinnertime. Now that you were out of home and living by yourselves in a little apartment close to campus, it was usually spent doing exactly that, eating. But that particular day, Keigo wanted to watch TV. It's not something you did often. You were what they called a country bumpkin through and through. Though you had the resources, you seldom were on the web unless necessary for a task. You had a TV when you lived with your folks but aside from watching cartoons every now and then you never really paid it any attention. The one you had in your tiny apartment was one that had been left behind by the previous tenant. Just a small box with antennas that worked only when it wanted. Complying with his request, you somehow made it work, having it close enough for him to watch while you both ate. And it was while chewing through a serving of yakitori, you saw him.

Keigo. A much, much bigger version. And he was saving people and beating villains on network television. To say you almost choked to death would be an understatement. Keigo—your cute, little Keigo—was the Number Three Hero in all of Japan. The hero known as Hawks. Disbelief was what struck you first and hard. But the more your little Keigo, that little piece of him that resembled the hero to a T, pointed at the flickering screen with a larger than life smile on his face, the more you knew there was no denying the truth. But how? How had you missed such a huge thing for so long? Sure your upbringing explained it a bit. That your parents weren't big hero fans in general also added to it. But that could only hide everything for a little while. Maybe the first year. But for the last four?

God, you seriously needed to see an eye doctor from how damn blind you were. 

You were still baffled as could be when you and Kei went out to the convenience store if only to get your mind out of things. But there was no time for you to space out when, out of the blue, Keigo suddenly perked up and flew away from his perch on your shoulder. Utterly freaking out when it was this late at night, you chased after the fast little pigeon, turning corner after corner and getting more lost the longer you did. You dodged some random people who were on their late night stroll or going back home from work apologizing all the way as you chased after that little red fluff of feathers as quick as you could. Finally, when he was getting too far, you shouted his name in an attempt to get him to slow down. He turned a corner, you did too—and crashed right into someone.

A hand firmly grasped your arm to stop you from falling back almost instantly. You hurriedly apologized not wanting to lose Keigo. But when the person spoke up, you froze in your tracks.

"Y/n?"

Almost instantly, your head snapped upward and met amber eyes. Rather familiar ones at that with those delineations on those eyes. The name spilled from little lips almost instantly without you even noticing.  

"Keigo?"

A soft glow took both of your attentions and made you face to the side were a couple of little things were floating in midair. It was your little Keigo and in his arms...a tiny version of you. Both were giddily giggling as he spun them in midair with his wings. The glow that caught your sight had been the one they were emanating as they danced. A glow that, like you'd been told by your mother long ago, meant that you and your soulmate had finally found one another and were truly bonded. Out of breath as you were, it took you a second to finally turn back to the man before you. 'Keigo,' you reminded yourself. Before you could say anything, he let out a hearty laughter that reached his eyes as he took off the baseball cap he had on letting windswept blonde tresses fall over his face. Curious how on him it was a rather handsome look instead of cute. 

"Who would've thought, huh?" As he laughed again, he reached out his hand to the two tiny versions of yourselves. Your little Keigo brought themselves back to the palm of his hand, the two holding hands and bumping their foreheads against each other like little doves. "Y'know, I always thought the little you was cute. Never thought you'd be this lovely in real life."

"T-Thank you." Dumb, yes, but you had no idea what else to say. Your brain was fried after all these surprises in less than 24 hours! The No.3 hero—your soulmate—was before you, and it was far more than you could take at the moment. When you noticed him staring, it finally brought back some of that notorious self-consciousness of yours as you fidgeted in your own shoes. "S-Sorry! It's a bit of a shock to find you, well, here. Now. And god, I can't believe this is happening now when I just found out about you."

Those amber eyes grew a bit quizzical at her statement. "What do you mean?" You were embarrassed to admit that you barely had put two and two together about his identity which got another laugh from him. "Honestly, not surprising." He reached up to ruffle the little you's head lovingly as a tender smile came to his face. "You never liked watching TV or playing with my phone. I always carry a book with me because you like to read so much. I never thought it'd take this long to find each other."

"How long have you been a hero?" you asked, curious.

"Since I was eighteen."

Oh. That explained so much. Yet nothing at all at the same time. Wanting to start things again, you cleared your throat and stood in front of him as your little Keigo returned to your side, sitting on your shoulder with a proud grin. "H-How about we start again? I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you, Kiego-san."

Keigo chuckled as the little you returned to the safety of his shirt pocket, peeking out from under the flap with as wide a smile as his. "It's nice to meet you, too, y/n."

[fireflyknowles]

Space Orcs - Ship FirTy Stories

So, I'm trying to write more because I enjoy it and I hope you do too. I've had a hard time getting myself to sit down and focus though, so here is something real quick. I apologize for spelling and grammar errors, this is being done on my phone.

Alice has recently joined the crew of Ship FirTy on its long term research mission and the other races on this particular mission still haven't fully realized just how much energy a happy extrovert can have...

Alice is wandering the halls after her shift in the gardens. She promised the Crovank crew members that she would join them in a game night after her shift, but their shifts do not end for another couple of hours. She is unsure of the type of games that will be played, all the other races seem to avoid the Crovank game nights, but Alice is very excited to join. Memories of her famillies game nights back on earth bring a smile to her face and hope to her heart. Maybe adding this reminder of home to her time on board the ship could make her time away easier.

Deciding to grab some dinner beforehand, Alice heads to the cafeteria. Upon entering, she finds Jonathon reading while he eats his own dinner. She calls out a greeting to him but, like usual, is so buried in his book he doesn't notice. Rolling her eyes, she continues to the kitchen and gets a burger and fries. Greasy, relaxing, comfort food to kick off the night right! Dreaming about a soda pop to compete the meal Alice makes her way to where Jonathon is sitting and joins him.

The noise her plate makes when she sets it on the table startles Jonathon out of his book and has him looking around in confusion. As his eyes land on hers she sees recognition, denial, and finally grudging acceptance. Alice has been joining Jonathon for dinner at least 3 days a week since she boarded the ship. Jonathon has come to believe she wants human companionship in this strange new place, or she just wants to drive him crazy... he isn't completely sure yet... but, there she sits on a regular basis trying to get him to engage in conversation.

Tonight there is no small talk relating to the days prior activities, she simply asks "why does everyone avoid game nights?"

Not the least confused by this question as there is only 1 game night she could be showing of, he answers "Many of the other races just don't have the energy to keep up with the Corvanks, plus their games tend to last longer than anyone else is willing to play for."

Alice's eyes darken with worry as she says "I'm kind of nervous what if I ruin game night because I can't play their games?" Then a small mischievous smile plays across her mouth "But at the she time, im really excited to have some fun! I bet tonight will be a blast!"

"Don't worry about your ability to play the games, I'm sure half the reason they asked you is so they can learn more about you and they have been waiting for years to have a good reason to adapt their games. Also, I'm sure they would love learning about earth games if noneof their games work." Jonathon replies matter of factly.

Alice sighs out "thanks" with a small smile before digging into her dinner.

The subject seems to be over maybe Jonathon could go back to reading now... would that be rude? Well... she seemed busy eating and probably wouldn't notice if he just...

"What cha reading?" Alice asks starling Jonathon again. When she notices his reaction she giggles "sorry, didn't realize you'd already shut out the rest of the world."

One of the Corvank had been walking by and heard Alice's words. "How can he shut out the world? He is in an open area and the world is huge!"

Alice giggles again while Jonathon explains "Its an expression. It means that I focused so completely on what I was reading that I didn't use any of my other senses to keep track of the world around me. I forgot I wasn't alone."

"You can choose which senses work at any given time?!"

"No, all my senses were still sending my brain signals about what they picked up. But I was so focus on the words in my book and the picture they painted that I didn't register what was going on around me."

"Oh, so you do choose which senses to listen to! And what do you mean about the words in your book 'painted a picture'? I don't see a picture on those pages or any where else. Do you have to activate it? Do you need some form of implant?"

With a big sigh and an eye roll Jonathon mumbles to Alice "I never had this many questions asked before you joined the ship." Alice answers with a snort. She knows there were questions, he just never noticed.

To Crowshak Jonathon replied "I don't consciously choose to ignore any of my senses. Words painting a picture is another figure of speech, it means that the words used to describe something are so clear, accurate, precise, perfect that your mind can visualize exactly what the author was trying to get you to see."

About that time, Bo and the other Crovank crew members came along and joined the conversation. Asking more questions about these "figures of speech" and taking great delight in attempting to create a new game for future game nights based on these "fires of speech". Game night morphed into 20 questions and for the next couple of hours each time Jonathon tried to leave, the Crovank asked more questions. When Jonathon was finally able to extricate himself from the midst of the group other races had joined in, it was past his bed time, and Alice seemed to have even more energy than normal. He was kind of envious of her ability to gather energy in crowds, dang extroverts, and hoped she would be able to sleep that night. Tomorrow promised to be a long day...

[fanficimagery]

Cheap Thrills

Summary: Imagine receiving drunk text messages from a random number. Even when you make it known you're not who the person is looking for, the texts keep coming. And it's not until you make a post about the texts, complete with screenshots, do you find out who it is.

Words: 3.9K Warnings: None that I can think of.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: u awake? [From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: miss u [From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: can i come over? [From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: hello?

You read the texts, snorting at the poor unfortunate individual who typed in the wrong number. Thumbs tapping out a message of your own, you send it before getting back to your movie.

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: i'm sure whoever you're trying to reach misses you too? But sorry to say you have the wrong number.

The random number doesn't text you back so you continue on with your night as if nothing had happened. But the next morning, when you wake up, you find yet another text message from the random number.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: i am so sorry about those texts. I was drunk.

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: lol it's alright. You're forgiven.

You've had random numbers text you from time to time, but never a number that texts you in a drunken stupor yet again even after you've told them they had the wrong number. So the following night, you're surprised to see the stranger's number pop up again.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: what r u doin?

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: umm…

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: r u a chick or a dude lol..

You snort. Of course. It's definitely a guy texting because had it been a drunk female there's no way she'd care to find out the gender. She'd most likely just text to her heart's content before passing out without a care in the world whether it was a guy or girl listening to her rant.

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: chick.

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: yess! Boyfriend?

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: jesus. You're really in top form tonight, aren't you?

[From XXX-XXX-XXXX]: baby i'm in top form every night ;)

[To XXX-XXX-XXXX]: and on that note, I'm out. Don't forget to chug some water before bed, Stranger Danger.

The texts continue the following weekend, the drunken stranger flirting to his heart's content. He's funny, is definitely down to cuddle, and really wants to spend the night though he has no clue who you are. You had asked for a name, but never got an answer. You weren't too alarmed about not knowing it since he was never really serious about coming over (at least you hoped not), but your curiosity ended up getting the better of you.

So after screenshotting a couple pages, you post them to Twitter after blacking out every number but the last four with the caption: Get you a stranger who'll drunk text you even after explaining you're not who he's looking for..

You weren't really expecting the screenshots to blow up the way they did, nor for anyone to actually know your drunken stranger, but sure enough a week later you're receiving private messages from none other than David Dobrik himself.

Planning to meet David Dobrik leaves you feeling a bit anxious, but you calm when he tells you his assistant Natalie will be joining him. So after hastily making some plans, you agree on meeting in a public park where there will be others around to make you feel a bit more comfortable.

You choose a pretty shaded spot beneath a tree in clear view of everyone milling about the park, and plop down with an assortment of snacks as you wait for David and Natalie to show up. Fortunately for you, you don't have to wait long. Natalie video calls you to find exactly where you're at and when she does it's not long before you're meeting them face to face.

David's already giggling and recording when he steps up to you, and you can't help but smile in return as you stand to greet them. "Hey. So, uh, it's cool to meet you guys." You briefly hug each of them before gesturing for them to sit with you.

"Likewise," David says. He and Natalie sit, and you offer them some of your snacks which Natalie readily digs in to. "So not to be rude and rush you, but can I please see the texts?"

You chuckle. "Yeah." Bringing forth your phone, you pull up the numerous texts from the number David claims to know. As you pass him your phone, you ask, "So you gonna tell me who Stranger Danger finally is?"

Natalie's eyes widen before she swats at David's arm. "You haven't told her?!"

"Ow! What?"

"David," she sighs.

You watch them, grinning. "I mean I kind of understood why David waited, but I'm really curious as to which one of your friends is thirsty as fuck to be texting a stranger."

David laughs as he continues to read. "Did he really say I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

You grimace. "Yeah. Even sent me a dick pic which is why I tell him that I don't wanna see the peen a few texts down."

"Oh my god," Natalie muses. "He didn't."

"He did. Now can I please know whose penis I have seared into my brain?"

Natalie facepalms as David says, "Toddy."

"Toddy?" You brow furrows as you try to recall which one Toddy is. It isn't until Natalie shows you a picture of Toddy on her own phone do your eyes widen. "Oh. Oh wow."

David snorts and Natalie winks as she puts her phone away. "So you never once asked what he looked like?" She then asks as David screenshots everything he can before airdropping the pictures to his own phone.

"I mean I didn't really care about what he looked like," you shrug. "I found amusement in the texts and it surprised me that he continued to text every time he got drunk. I asked for a name eventually, but he never gave one."

"So he doesn't know your name or what you look like?" David asks, finally looking up at you.

"Nope."

He slowly smiles and Natalie groans. "I know that look. I hate that look. What are you thinking?"

David giggles. "I'm thinking of surprising Todd." You must make a face because David's quick to finish explaining. "It'll just be us and Todd. We can all hang out at my place and if the others show up, they show up. It'll be fine."

"I- I mean.." You trail off, glancing at Natalie. "What do you think? You've got a clearer head on your shoulders."

"Hey!"

Natalie huffs a small laugh. "It could be fun," she then says with a small shrug. "Todd will definitely find it funny, especially since you exposed him on Twitter. He'll also be happy that you're cute."

You blush as they stare at you, anxiously awaiting your answer. And after taking a moment to think about it, you sigh. "What the hell. Let's do it."

David cheers and they waste no time in helping you gather your trash. David offers for Natalie to drive his car while he drives with you, and she agrees. Then on the way to his house, David records some more to get more of your story for his vlog.

He finds out you're single to which he ooh's at and casually mentions that Todd is single as well, and is quite fascinated to learn that you think his friend is hot. You laugh and end up blushing, so to make you feel a little better he mentions that you're his friend's type as well. But all too soon you're pulling up to David's house where he's instructing you to park behind the safety of his gate.

You've seen his house in several of his videos, but it still leaves you awestruck as they lead you inside. All shoes are left by the front door and you can't help but stare at the ridiculously large bean bag chair when you enter the living room.

"Dibs."

"On?" David asks, he and Natalie immediately plopping down on the couch and stretching out on opposite ends.

"The bean bag." You cautiously take a seat and let yourself sink into it, smiling at David's giggling. Once you're completely laid back and curled up, you sigh in contentment. "I definitely need to invest in one of these."

"It really is comfortable." David taps away on his phone, humming. "So Todd should be here in a couple of hours. Does anyone want to order food while we wait?"

"Food. Yes!" Natalie groans.

"Does anyone deliver a good burger? I am so down for a burger and fries," you grumble.

David turns on his TV while Natalie orders the food. Bohemian Rhapsody is on and you urgently plead for David to leave it on that. He does and you have no shame in singing along or clapping to the Queen songs. The We Will Rock You scene leads you to performing your own rendition of the song, and both David and Natalie crack up when you sing the entire song from heart.

The food eventually gets there and you all take a seat at the kitchen counters. However, not even halfway through with your food, Todd texts David that he's outside.

"Oh shit, Y/N. Hide!" David tells you.

You nearly fall off your stool to which Natalie nearly chokes on her food laughing at, but she's quick to help you into the guest bathroom that's just around the corner. She leaves you alone and rejoins David, and it's not long before a third voice enters the mix.

          ----------

Todd walks into the kitchen, yawning and ruffling his hair. He nods at Natalie as she washes a few dishes to place in the dishwasher, and then takes a seat next to David who has his camera set up across from him.

"So what's going on?" He asks, stealing a french fry from the tray in front of him.

"I called you over here because I want to hear your side of the story," David informs him, slowly grinning.

Todd freezes, nervously chuckling as Natalie smirks at him. "About?"

"About this." David pulls up tweet that went viral, showing Toddy the screenshots of his text messages.

"She didn't," Todd exclaims, laughing. "Fuck. She did!"

"You've been exposed," Natalie muses. "How does it feel?"

"How did you even find these? Or even connect them back to me," Todd then wonders. "Wait does she have a pic?"

"No," David laughs, taking back his phone. "And I know it's you because the last four digits are the exact same as yours, and when I DM'd her I confirmed that the number she had was the same one I had for you. It was a long shot really, but I'm glad I took that leap of faith."

"You talked to her?!"

"Yeah. She's really cool. I think you'd like her."

"Really?"

"Really," Natalie agrees. "And if you keep eating her food, she's going to murder you."

          ----------

"And if you keep eating her food, she’s going to murder you."

"My food?" You mumble. But then Natalie's words click and your eyes widen. You can hear Todd beginning to ask something, but you throw open the door and march out towards the kitchen. "Not another bite, Stranger Danger!"

Todd nearly falls off the stool from where he whirls around so fast and you can't help but laugh. He's surprised, but beams a moment later, and you slowly walk towards him.

"You're the- you're her?"

"Yep." You stop a few feet in front of him. "And you're him- the drunk texter."

"Holy shit." He laughs, shaking his head at David whose recording it all, and then asks you, "Can I hug you? Is that weird?"

"You've sent me a dick pic, man. There's no getting more weird than that."

The tips of Todd's ears burn red as he moves in for a hug and you embrace him briefly. When he lets go, however, he keeps one arm around your shoulders as he faces David's camera once more. "So how much of my texts have you actually seen?"

"Everything but the picture," David giggles. "Y/N deleted it."

"Y/N?" Todd then glances down at you.

"Yep. And you're Todd. It's nice to officially meet you."

"Aw. Aren't you two adorable," David teases. "Now come on. Let's move this to the living room. It's getting weird just standing around."

"Wait. Hold on." You scurry forward and grab up your half eaten burger, taking one last big bite from it before heading towards the living room.

Todd watches you go, gaze adoringly watching your every step. "Marry me."

With bulging cheeks, you wink and continue on.

David and Natalie retake their spots on the couch, and the bean bag is so large that Todd throws himself next to you after you've settled down. The problem with the bean bag, however, is that you end up sliding towards Todd since he's heavier. He winks when you bump into him and you huff a laugh, but you get settled either way and pull out your phone to give you something to do.

Todd, you find out, is an Instagram hoe and you find yourself taking numerous selfies with him- some with filters and some without. You're even in his Instastories, laughing and trying to cover your face, but it's no use. He gives no explanation as to who you are, only that you're a friend. He even posts quick little videos of David and Natalie, and you arguing with David over which movie to watch.

You have no idea how long you've been with the group, only that it feels like you've known these people for a long time, so it's no big surprise that other friends of theirs show up to hang out.

Erin and Carly show up together, followed by Zane and Matt.

"Wait. So let me get this straight," Erin exclaims. "You," she points at Todd, "have been texting her," she then points at you, "for weeks? And you had no clue what the other looked like or names and this is your first time meeting?"

From your position- Todd stretched out one way and you the other with your legs draped over his- you grin. "Yep."

"Todd!" Carly laughs. "What even- how?"

"I thought I was texting Corinna!" He defends himself, chuckling. "I deleted Corinna's number, and she and Y/N have similar numbers. Totally accidental."

Everyone glances at you and you roll your eyes. "Chill. I knew his texts were intended for the ex. I even encouraged him to text her, but his drunken self found more amusement with a stranger."

Natalie snorts. "I'll say. He asked for nudes pretty frequently."

"Todd!" Matt cackles at the same time Zane muses, "Baby, no."

"Don't worry, I never sent them. I got more respect for myself than that," you say. "Todd, on the other hand, has no shame."

"You didn't," Erin says.

"It was one time!"

"It was still a dick pic." You grin. "And come on, man, who are you trying to kid? Your texts were thirsty as fuck at times."

"I have got to see these texts," Zane says.

Smirking, you pull up the text messages on your phone and move to toss your phone to an eager Zane. But seeing what you're about to do, Todd grips your thigh just enough to make you laugh in surprise. "Y/N, don't."

Zane's still reaching for the phone so Todd rolls over you. You grunt at the added weight, wiggling just enough to roll both you and Todd off the bean bag and onto the floor. You both grunt when you land.

"Oh my god," David laughs. "This is better than two girls fighting in baby oil."

Everyone's laughing now, especially when Todd says, "There's nothing better than two girls fighting in baby oil," as he gets the upper hand and straddles your stomach.

Your phone slips out of your hand, which he's quick to grab up, but with your free hand you're free to pinch Todd's nipple through his shirt. He yelps and you're quick to buck him off, you then rolling the both of you in order to straddle his stomach before reaching towards his outstretched arm for your phone.

Todd goes oddly still before giggling and it's all too easy to reclaim your phone. "You know what, I'm not even mad about this position."

Slightly leaning up to glance between you and Todd, you huff a laugh when you see his face is practically in between your tits. "You're a dick." As you fully sit up, you pinch Todd again to which he giggles at and then toss your phone at Zane. "You have free reign to read every one of Todd's texts now. Enjoy." Zane cheers, Matt, Erin, and Carly quickly crowding him to read them as well.

Todd pokes your waist and you flinch, your waist being very ticklish, and the two of you end up slapping each other's hands as you slide off of him and back onto the beanbag. Todd's beaming smile makes your heart beat a little harder and you're grateful he can't hear it.

"You're kind of strong," Todd says as he ends up settling next to you once more.

"I should hope so. I grew up with two older brothers. You best believe they tried every wrestling move on me until I learned how to get out of it."

"They still tease you?"

"All the time." You slowly smile, chuckling at fond memories. "What about you? Any siblings you fight with?"

"Nah. I'm an only child."

"So you're an only child who still acts like a child, huh?"

"Hey!"

Todd reaches over as if he's going to tickle you and you curl up in order to protect yourself. "No! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

He chuckles softly and reaches for you again, but he only hooks an arm under your neck and pulls you in so you're curled into his side. "How much longer can you stay?"

You hum. "Not much longer," you admit. "I live about an hour away so I should be on the road pretty soon."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Zane, Matt, Carly, and Erin are still hysterical over Todd's drunken texts, David and Natalie are in their own world, as are you and Todd. His calm demeanor puts you at ease and you suddenly find yourself wishing you could stay much longer in his presence.

"Aw. Look at them," David suddenly teases. When you and Todd look at him, David smirks. "You're welcome."

You snort. "Shut up." Todd opens up his phone to momentarily distract himself, but in doing so you see the time. "Shit," you mumble. "It's already that late? I need to go."

Todd's head snaps in your direction. "Aw. No."

"Sorry, but I need to." He frowns and your heart goes out to him for a bit. "Tell you what. Let's go grab some dinner. You take your car and I'll take mine so I can leave afterward."

"Fuck it. Let's do it." You and Todd stand up, and everyone readily stares at you. "Nope," he tells them. "None of you are invited."

As the weeks slowly pass, nothing really changes with the exception that you've made friends with several Youtubers, and Todd's taken to texting you when he's sober as well now- maybe even hanging out when he's not with everyone else. So it's really no surprise when you get a FaceTime call from David as you're scrolling through social media before you put a movie on.

Accepting the call, you squint at the too bright room on David's end. "Do you have to have all those lights on? Jesus." As you move around, you end up laying back on your pillows.

He grins. "It's not even midnight. Why are you in bed already?"

"I'm not in bed-bed." You roll your eyes. "I was just getting ready to watch a movie. It just so happens that it's more enjoyable to watch from the comfort of a bed."

"Yeah? Which movie?"

"Guess."

"Bohemian Rhapsody."

"Goddammit."

David giggles. "You have a serious problem when it comes to that kid from Jurassic Park who's all grown up now."

"Joe Mazzello went from an adorable little nerd to total daddy material. He deserves all my love."

"Jesus Christ." You grin at David's amusement. Eventually though, his laughter tapers off. "Well I'll let you get back to your movie, but I need to record something real quick. You game?"

"If it involves me leaving my bed, then no. Other than that, let's do this."

"No. This is good." David props his phone up so he can hold his camera with both hands and record the call. Then, he says, "So since I posted the video of you and Todd meeting, the viewers have gone crazy."

"Of course they have."

"Inquiring minds need to know," he smirks, "if you're still Todd's booty text or if an honest friendship has blossomed from my intervening?"

You roll your eyes, teeth digging into the bottom corner of your lip as you fight off a blush. "Why does this feel like an episode of Catfish where the host is checking in weeks later to see how I'm doing?"

"Just answer the question, Y/N."

"Fine." You sigh. "Hold on." Getting out of bed, you then make your way downstairs. Heading for the kitchen, you then flip the camera on your phone. "Does this answer your question?"

Upon hearing your voice, Todd turns around from his place at the kitchen island where he was fixing a bowl of popcorn. He smiles. "What are you doing?"

"Oh my god!"

Todd's smile falters but your wink lets him know all is good. Sidling up to his left side, you hip check him as you flip the camera back so it catches both you and Todd. "An honest friendship has blossomed," you say. "I am introducing him to my current favorite movie."

Todd chuckles as he leans closer to the screen, his expression then morphing into one of mock horror. "Help me."

"No way. Natalie owes me twenty bucks! NATALIE!" David then sets his camera aside, picking his phone back up as he starts walking around. "So how long have you guys been hanging out for behind our backs?"

"Since you introduced us face to face," Todd says. "And we weren't exactly going behind your back, we just-"

"We wanted to hang out without anyone making a big deal out of it." You shrug. "But it's been long enough and you're going to make a big deal out of it no matter what, so.."

"So if you don't mind," Todd says as he takes your phone from you, "Y/N and I got a movie to watch."

"Wait! Just answer one question," David says. Todd goes quiet, nodding. "Did you finally get Y/N to cuddle you?"

Todd and David explode with laughter at the same time, and that seems to be all David needs to hear. You take your phone back, shaking your head. "Goodbye, David. We'll text you later if you're still awake." And before he can retort, you end the call before pocketing your phone.

"I guess the cat's out of the bag," Todd muses, shrugging sheepishly.

"Well not the whole cat." You slowly smile, leaning up on the tips of your toes and pressing your lips to Todd's. "And it's going to stay that way just a little bit longer. Your fans are crazy."

"Whatever you say, babe. Now can we please go watch that movie of yours? You got me all hyped up after those Queen songs you played all afternoon long."

"Sure thing." Todd grabs the bowl of popcorn and you grab some drinks from the refrigerator. As he follows you back up the stairs, you say, "Now don't get all huffy when I eventually swoon. I adore you, but I adore Joe and Gwilym just a little bit more."

"You're a terrible girlfriend."

"And I'm afraid I don't get much better." You huff a laugh. "You signed up for this, babe. Get used to it."

[cardansriddle]

Cedric Diggory- Treasure

Warnings: none. just pure fluff

I rushed out of the common room, checking my surroundings before heading off to the library. Sneaking out after the curfew was not a good idea, but reading a couple of books was always a better option than spending the night restless. 

"Lumos" I muttered as I made my way into the dark library. I quickly found a book and went to take my seat on my usual table, however, I stopped in my tracks once I noticed a figure slumped over the table. I moved closer to the person coming to the conclusion that he must have accidentally fallen asleep while reading. I shook him gently, trying not to startle him. Suddenly, he jerked away at the sudden contact and lifted his head, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and only then I realized who it was.

Cedric Diggory. He was a Prefect.

Shit.

He looked at me, his expression puzzled. His eyes were surrounded by dark circles and I subconsciously felt bad for him. Being a champion whilst trying to prepare for exams was not easy. I remembered how he barely survived the first task, in which he almost got fried but managed to escape. I  snapped out of my thoughts once I realized he was staring at me expectedly. 

"You must've fallen asleep here. It's two in the morning." I whispered and he nodded in understanding.

"Why are you out of bed after curfew?" He said as he rose, collecting his stuff while keeping an eye on me. Upon noticing the horrified look on my face he chuckled lowly. "Relax, I'll let it slide this time."

"Thank you." I breathed out in relief and noticed the book he was holding tightly in his hands. "I assume you haven't figured the egg out yet?"

"Uh yes." He answered uncertainly. I could tell he was confused as tow why I was asking this question, and it wouldn't take a Legimilens to figure out that he was uncomfortable with the whole tournament subject. I wondered if he would accept help from anyone, and came to a conclusion that he was the Hogwarts champion, and giving him tips would help us win the tournament. So I told him what Fleur had shared with me early in the morning.

"Fleur mentioned something along the lines of taking a relaxing bath with the egg. " I said with a smirk and before he could reply I hurried out of the library and slipped back into the common room.

-

The next morning was quite tiresome. Chatting with my overhyped friends and trying to eat at the same time was a challenge for my sleep-deprived self. They were excitedly discussing the Yule Ball which would take place in a week, and despite having the perfect dress sent to me, being asked to the Ball by several suitors, I was not feeling excited. Since the announcement of the tournament, I have been feeling uneasy and expecting something to jump at me from the dark at all times. Countless of nightmares about deaths have been haunting me, which is the reason why I was too scared to get a blink of sleep. Noticing my solemn expression, my friends stopped their banter.

"Are you alright?" One of them asked and I nodded my head, putting my fork down and getting up to leave. They have learned from past experiences that it is not the best idea to push me, so they let it be, for which I was grateful.

On my way out of the Great Hall, I bumped into something hard, and if not for the hands around my waist that reached out to steady me, I would be on the floor from the impact. I looked up to see Cedric, who was staring at me with careful yet concerned eyes. 

"I apologize. Wasn't watching where I was going." He quickly apologised like the true gentleman he was, and upon realising that his hands were still holding my waist, he let go with a blush. I didn't say anything, just tried to get past him but he grabbed me by the arm. I looked at him, confused, and once again his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink.

"I never thanked you for the...um help." He said lowly causing me to smile lightly.

"It was a reasonable thing to do," I replied and before he could say anything else, I gently pulled my arm from his grip and headed to the library. 

The library was almost empty which was normal considering the time. I quickly sat behind my usual table and started working on my essay, carefully choosing words and scribbling them down to the parchment. Not long after, I heard the chair next to mine getting pulled back and I look up to see the devil himself taking a seat next to me. I raised my eyebrows in question, he, however, without sparing me a glance, opened his book and started reading. 

"You seem drained of energy." He broke the silence after a while.

"Just have a bad feeling about this tournament," I answered briefly and saw him nod his head slowly from the corner of my eye.

He opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped midway as if he was unsure. "Is there anything I can help with?" Cedric offered after a moment of hesitation and I rolled my eyes.

"Listen, Cedric. Just because I told you how to open the bloody egg-" But before I could finish my sentence, he cut me off.

"No, I am genuinely interested in..well, being your friend." The words shut me up, and I searched his eyes for some kind of hint that he was just playing with me, but upon not finding any, I breathed out a tired sigh.

It was very quiet. The change of conversation shifted the room into a silence that was drizzled with a crackling tension. I felt my heartbeat speed up and flutter in my chest. I did not know how to reply to that, I did not want his pity. Was it pity though? 

"Your lack of response is unnerving." Cedric chuckled, the sound so melodic and comforting I didn't want him to stop talking. 

"I do not know anything about you." I pointed out shyly. He laughed and I could tell that I was amusing him.

"That is the point of friendships, you get to know each other." He was still staring at me, expectant. "How about this? Come to the Yule Ball with me and we will get to know each other while having a good time yeah?"

My cheeks reddened even further and I could not believe that Cedric Diggory just invited me to the Yule Ball. I suddenly became aware of the flickering firelight dancing across Cedric's handsome face, drawing attention to his sharp jaw and smooth lips. I had a sudden urge to kiss him but suppressed it. 

I cleared my throat and looked into his eyes while accepting his offer. "Alright."

His smile widened at my response and without saying anything else (for which I was grateful), He picked his book back up and picked up from where he left off like he did not just invite me to the Yule Ball.

Maybe befriending the champion wouldn't be so bad after all.

-

Fast forward to the day before the second task. After the Yule Ball Cedric and I became closer than ever. Every time I saw him my heart would be sent into a frenzy and my head would be clouded with the thoughts of his lips. It was getting harder to resist his charm, and as I sat next to him, trying to figure out how to breathe underwater for one hour. An idea popped in my head and I squealed with excitement.

"Ced!" I shook his slumped form. However, before I could tell him about my revelation, Professor Snape interrupted me with a fake cough. I turned around to face the intruder and without sparing Cedric a glance, he gestured me to approach him. 

"I believe you are needed in the Headmaster's office." He drawled with a bored tone and Cedric lifted his head and looked at us with pure confusion etched on his face. 

"Page one hundred twenty-eight," I whispered in Cedric's ear before picking up my stuff and following Professor Snape out of the library. On our way there, I wondered why would I be needed in Headmaster's office, after all, I haven't pranked anyone since the tournament started, and have completed all of my assignments. However, I refrained from asking Snape my questions. It would be useless.

"Lemon drops." He drawled at the Gargoyle guarding the entrance and with a single clear nock, he entered the office, me trailing behind him. Upon my arrival, I noticed Granger, Weasley and Fleur's little sister also standing there. 

"You may all be confused as to why I summoned you here." Dumbledore rose from his seat. "The champions' next task will be to rescue the thing they would miss the most. You being the closest people to our champions, will be put under a strong sleeping potion and they will have to rescue you in an hour." Dumbledore explained as Snape started handing out small vials of the potion. I took it hesitantly and stared at it.

"Is there a problem?" Snape asked after a moment and I realized the students next to me were already in a deep slumber, and I was the only one standing and idiotically staring at the potion.

"I'm just- I mean uh, sir? But I am far from being the person Cedric would miss the most. We are barely even friends." I said, catching the amused expression on Dumbledore's face. I turned my head to look at Snape who raised his eyebrow as if in disbelief. I mean the thought of being Cedric's "treasure" in this task was making me giddy, but the sensible part of my brain kept telling me this was some kind of a misunderstanding, that they brought the wrong person here.

"Just drink the potion," Dumbledore said softly and I sighed, popping off the lid and downing the thick liquid in one go. As soon as I swallowed the last drop, sleep overcame my senses and I found the world going dark before I fell into a dreamless sleep.

-

Cedric looked around frantically, trying to find the girl he had become so close with over a short period of time, but she was nowhere in sight. He released a disappointed sigh, thinking she couldn't care less about his task or well being. Pushing the hurt feelings aside, he prepared to dive into the water. Little did he know the girl he was looking for was already waiting for him underwater, waiting to be rescued. 

Cedric raised his arm and pointed his wand at his head. "Papula caput" He cast the bubblehead charm that was on page one hundred twenty-eight. The charm that she suggested. And she was not here.

The shrill sound of the whistle echoed in the air and with a final look around (to see if she showed up because maybe she was late?) and finally coming to the conclusion that she would not come, he dived head straight into the water, pushing his body deeper and deeper, to try and find the treasure the egg had hinted he would need to find.

The deeper he swam, the darker it would get. He could only see tangled black weed and the foggy dark landscape ahead of him. He could neither see nor hear any signs of other champions, his treasure, or merpeople around him. With a worried glance to his watch on his wrist, he could tell there was not much time left. Then without a warning, something suddenly grabbed at his ankle, trying to pull him down with great force.

"Flipindo!" He fired at whatever was grabbing him, but the angry creature seemed even madder as another one clutched his other ankle. He started firing spells at them (he realized they were grindylows, water demons with horns and sharp fangs) and when they released their grip on his ankles for a moment, he quickly swam forward in order to escape their wrath. Fortunately, they let him go and he decided to go a little higher in order to not get caught by any other creatures lurking in the shadows. He swam for what felt like hours, the silence stretching and pressing at his eardrums. Then he heard it.

"An hour-long you'll have to look, And to recover what we took..."  

He swam towards the direction the mersong was coming from. He spun around a corner and saw a bunch of merpeople singing the familiar song, luring the champions towards them. Behind the merpeople were the "treasures" of the champions, each tightly bound with ropes around their ankles. And as he looked closer to rescue his own treasure, his breath got caught in his throat. 

She was the person he would miss the most, he realized as he swam towards the girl. Her skin was paling since had been in the cold water for Merlin knows how long. Her floating form made his heartache and he quickly pulled a knife and cut the ropes around her ankles and with an encouraging nod at Potter, who was torn between saving Ron and Hermione, he swam upwards. 

Cheers broke out as soon as we resurfaced, and I took in a breath, sighing in relief when oxygen made its way into my lungs. I felt a firm grip on my waist and only then I realized I was in the arms of Cedric Diggory. He was watching me, concern clear as ever in his eyes and I smiled at this. 

Snapping out of his trance, he started guiding us towards the deck, and once there, professors pulled us up and we were wrapped in warm towels. He was still watching worriedly, I realized as I caught his gaze. He broke free from his friends' embrace and approached me.

"Are you alright?" He asked me.

"Yes, what about you?" 

"Better now that you are safe." I couldn't help but blush at his words and looked at my soaked shoes. He lifted my chin with his finger and smiled widely, and before I could process what was happening, I felt his lips on mine. Without a second of hesitation, I kissed him back and even though the students around us were cheering louder than ever (thanks to Cedric's public display of affection and at the same time confession), I felt like we were the only ones that mattered at the moment. My heart was hammering against my rib cage, thumping like a tennis ball being smacked against a wall over and over again. The short yet passionate kiss came to an end, much to my disappointment.

I could see Dumbledore smiling and the single elegant eyebrow Professor Snape had raised knowingly and I let out a laugh. Had I been that blind?

The thought was thrown out of my head as Cedric put his forehead against mine and we smiled foolishly at one another. 

Merlin, I had never felt so content.