#my god that was so stressful. i was crying in the office of this random history teacher like 10 minutes before | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

audrak79 · 2 months ago

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He Sustains

10/1/24. God’s timing is never wrong. I got another reminder this week of this fact. Life is tough and we just never know what is coming down the road. But no matter what, it’s not for us to be consumed with or worried about. Our focus needs to be on what we are doing right now. What we do right now should have a kingdom impact, but we shouldn’t be so focused on the worries of tomorrow that we miss an opportunity today.

This year Transformation Church out of Tulsa, OK released a few new albums. They are full of amazing talent. TC’s worship team is phenomenal but they grabbed some of the best of the best to collaborate with; Tauren Wells, KB, Tasha Cobbs Leonard, Jekalyn Carr, Tye Tribbett, Chandler Moore..... Last week, was the release of the album Thy Kingdom Come and one song in particular was RIGHT ON TIME, Sustain.

I’ve never struggled with anxiety or panic, I’ve always felt that I was anchored, solid and grounded handling the stress of life well and therefore was able to help others through their struggles as well. However, in this season of my life the tables have turned and now I have fallen victim to anxiety. It made me angry at first, likely a result of some pride. Nobody wants to experience anxiety, especially when they have managed 45 years without it. Most of my anxiety seems to be a result of my lack of sleep. I lay awake all night, not with anxiety, just my thoughts not stopping. Often times I play out scenarios of how my day might go, who I’ll talk to, what their response could be, but the bulk of what runs through my mind are song lyrics. The songs are random, usually something I’ve been using in my workouts at the Y, but they are on super high speed. My mind can barely keep up with them at times. My therapist told me that if I was in bed longer than 30 minutes and not asleep, I need to get up and do something. Seems logical, but I can’t find the motivation to even get up. I just fight. I fight the insomnia thinking I am better than it and that I can will myself to sleep. I try to go to bed by 10, but then I’m awake at 11:30pm, still watching the clock at 1:30am, and then by 3am I am up for the day but still laying there fighting myself with these songs on repeat at 120 MPH. I finally drag myself out of bed at 5am to start my day at the Y. I try to reset with some reading and coffee before hitting the law office, and then I struggle all day yawning and crying because I’m so exhausted that every emotion or task is overwhelming and feeling like I can’t breathe. On the days that I do get a little sleep, I feel much better and everything is manageable. I still feel overwhelmed, but not to the point of panic and tears. This has been an ongoing issue for a few weeks now and I started praying as I lay there and asking God, “Why can’t I sleep, what are you trying to tell me?” I’ve tried it all; melatonin, CBD, magnesium, a glass of wine in the hot tub, reading, reducing caffeine and electronics.... I finally reached out to see my therapist regularly instead of thinking I could just go “as needed” because I realize that what I need is consistency. I also humbled myself and called the doctor asking for help. My therapist has me doing breathing exercises and journaling while the doc has me popping pills to get me to sleep. One med wasn’t enough apparently, because I now have 3 to juggle when the first 2 wouldn’t cut it. You would think that 3 medications designed for anxiety and sleep would knock down an elephant, but NOPE, not this elephant.

Yesterday was a tough day. I cried, a lot. I managed to get through my class at the Y, hit my favorite spot for reading and tried to pray and reflect on what all this was. I read a chapter in The Awe of God and sat for bit. As I was leaving, in tears again, I felt God speak to my heart that this was just something I needed to go through. That I needed to stop fighting the emotions, feel them and then release them to Him. Just as when Jesus was in the wilderness, His flesh was weak but the Spirit was strong. I need to allow Holy Spirit to do in me whatever He pleases while I just lay all my hurt, my struggles, my pain and my pride at the foot of the cross. So, I cried as drove to the office, I cried at my desk, I had lunch and cried with a friend, then when late afternoon came and I was all alone I locked the door of the office and hit my face to the floor and just cried out to God and asked Him to sustain me and thanked Him. I needed to be reminded that He is all I need and that if I just simply rely on Him, He will sustain me and get me through whatever all this is. Nothing of this world will ever be able to sustain me, carry me, or provide for me the way God does. Those are temporary fixes to a lifetime problem. But eternity is coming, and that is where my hope lies.

I popped my sleep aids last night at 7:30pm and laid down in my bed. I attempted to read in Romans and as my vision began to blur, I laid my Bible down and my glasses on top of it and just allowed myself to slip into my blanket and drift to sleep. My daughter was kind enough to shut my light off when she came home. I rested well and instead of looking at the clock when I did wake up, I began to pray and just thanked God for who He is and for all He provides. Then the song Sustain by TC began to just run through my head at a normal speed. Instead of fighting myself and trying to will myself back to sleep, I enjoyed the lyrics of the song and let in minister to my heart. I had a sub take over my class today at the Y so I was able to stay in bed until 7:30am. I took my time and enjoyed worshiping in the shower then coffee and breakfast with my daughter.

So far, I have made it half way through the day without anxiety and without tears (except when I was worshiping, but that always happens 😊 ). Progress! I’m taking time to journal my feelings but also to journal my story. My therapist says if I journal, I'll begin to see my healing. I’ve lived through a lot, most of which I have never really spoke of. I have lived thinking that if I ignore it, it never happened. I’m learning to share bits and pieces of my history as the Lord directs but it is often hard to trust people with such heaviness. We have normalized for too long staying silent about the things that haunt us. In the words of Pastor Jerry Flowers, “Secrets don’t keep you safe, they keep you stuck.” We can learn a lot about our patterns and change them if we simply take the time to study them and heal. We all have a story that needs to be shared, we just don’t know who we may help pull from the pit by allowing God to use our pain for His glory and the good of His people. My testimony is one of victory, acceptance, restoration and reconciliation. Today I choose to allow God to sustain me in my joy and in my pain, in my rest and in my weakness.

As I decided to get out of bed, I checked my Bible app verse of the day and scrolled on Instagram for a hot minute. The verse of the day came from 2 Cor. 10:5, which says: “We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ,” 2 Corinthians 10:5 ESV. It's not easy to take our thoughts captive, but when the enemy speaks lies to us and we know that it goes against God’s word, we MUST redirect that back to His truth. I know often times I am my own biggest enemy and that’s why I have to stop fighting this season and embrace it, giving it right back to God and counting it ALL joy as I know that “suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us”- Romans 5:3-5.

As I finished my morning scroll, there was a picture on Instagram of this girl and she was handing a dark mess up to the hands of the Father and under it was Psalm 55:22: “Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.” Psalms 55:22 NIV

God’s timing is never wrong, it’s always perfect and right on time. I will embrace my mess, my pain, my tears and even my anxiety and insomnia and instead of fighting it and focusing on it, I’ll feel it and release it back to my Savior knowing the He will sustain me. This is only temporary, it’s a season and it will pass because joy comes in the morning! My favorite line of the song by TC is “Your promises always come true, not dependent on me but relying on You, Your mercies are new everyday so I will trust You.” Enjoy the song lyrics below, I pray they speak to you as they have spoken to me:

Sustain, as performed by Chandler Moore, Jekalyn Carr and Transformation Worship

Holding on to your Word,

It’s the Light in the dark

Hope for my heart

Seasons come, people change

But you were there at the start

You won’t leave at this part

When my heart fails,

In the Faith I know

I find strength in you alone

You Sustain, You sustain

In the middle of it all

You remain the same

Through the rain, still you reign

You Sustain

Letting go of our fear

Not sure what’s ahead

But I trust what you say

Spirit come have your way

I surrender my pride

Lord here is my life

You sustain, You sustain

In the middle of it all

You remain the same

Through the rain, still you reign

You sustain

Your promises always come true

Not dependent on me

But relying on you

Your mercies are new everyday

So I will Trust you

#sustain #suffering #surrender

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syrinq · 2 years ago

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in this one a train journey goes wrong several times

yippee! graphic over-the-top gore in my dreams once again! this one's from 9 october! woohoo!

in this one i go on holiday with a group of foreign transfer students or some shit. travelling exclusively by train & similar. and this all went wrong because we love travelling in stylistic stress

the 1st train we tried to take, left too quickly while a large half of the group was getting on. so the whole group got pretty much split in half. 2-3 students went to some administration office to spend time there, until we could take the next train to be reunited with the others. that ''next train'' didn't come for another 10 hours, so it essentially felt like we were in class boring ourselves out

we were unable to leave this office until 3pm, and then we had to hurry and gather everyone to run to our train. turns out it isn't a train. it's a goddamn tram. it still goes to our destination, it just takes a different route. the group, not knowing that it takes a different route, is on edge the whole ass time because of this

finally arriving in the city after a whopping 12 hours, we're reunited with the other half of the travel group. but, the joke is, in the city we had to take another train to get to our actual final destination.

the city train had an issue with its doors. they couldn't open properly, and because it was right in the city, there were 4839483209 more people waiting to get on. so, one part of our travel group gets in. then this city train has the audacity as well to start rolling and leaving. with 48392480 other citizens left, there were loud protests about it however.

so, the city train backed up a teensy tiny bit and opened the doors again in its stereotypical failing fashion. some more people got on. now this was really it, the city train tried to leave the 2nd time- but there were still too many people. and all these bitches pushed against the train to get in, like it was god fucking noface spirited away getting swept up by the waves of Feels or whatever

then, because of all these people heavily banging and pushing against the train, it ended on the wrong rails. so even if the doors opened again, there was too big a gap for kids and short people to get into the train. i was one of the shorties and the thought of jumping over the gap and getting into the train scared the shit out of me, because i don't know i could misstep and crack my goddamn skull open

so, hey, the travel group got separated for a 2nd time. good times. amidst this chaos in the city, some random kid's bag broke and the contents fell to the floor. which were lps toys. me, having nostalgia for these stupid bobble heads, help the kid with picking some up

but, one goddamn cocker spaniel, this mother fucker below

had the audacity to fall down to the rails. me, a sensible adult, decide not to jump down and grab it. the little kid insists she can get it, but surrounding citizens and i are heavily protesting against this horrible idea.

she jumps down to the rails anyway to prove it's safe. she grabs her lps dog. after holding it for like 0.01 seconds the kid's hit by a train like the speed of light and obviously dead. citizens are immediately crying out in shock. others are just standing still, and i'm just looking around and realising that this kid just splatted all over the station and we're now all covered in blood and meat and organs and whatever else. and the last thought i have is "ffs why did she have to get hit?"

awesome.

#dreamlog #SIGH.

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tarosin · 3 years ago

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the great adventures of y/n and ranboo

this is an extra part to the great adventures series

summary: part two to the angst imagine (the not so great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo jack and ranboo) it’s a happier ‘ending’ please read what is written in bold

this is an “alternative ending” around 15 years into the future this doesn’t mean this is actually how the series is going to end im writing it now and including it as part of series as their friendship is already established i can confirm y/n and the group are going to have a happy ending when the series eventually comes to an end this also does not mean the series is anywhere near the end i plan on continuing the series as vlogs come out, i feel the need to confirm this now love between y/n and ranboo in this imagine is completely platonic

it had been about a month since you last streamed whereas ranboo continued to stream a few days after the fallout as he wanted to make sure you were going to be okay. even though ranboo knew this huge fallout would eventually happen, it still hurt him, especially since he knew there was no way to prevent it, the four of you in the same house mixed with the stress of being some of the most-watched content creators made living rather difficult. it was like walking on eggshells as you didn’t want to interrupt someone's stream, then there was the additional stress of obsessive fans finding out where the four of you lived, you still remember that day very vividly. you were sat in between tubbo and ranboo watching the office whilst Tommy was in an interview when you received a message from your mod.

Chris: hey y/n I received this message earlier I don’t want to scare you, but maybe get the locks changed. someone sent a message claiming this is your address *image of message from ‘fan’*

it didn’t take long for tubbo and ranboo to receive a message from their mods saying the same thing

“holy shit...”

“chances are Tommy has the message too. we shall go check around the house when Tommy is done with the interview.”

luckily no one ever showed up to the house, but the fact some people were so obsessed to the point they found your address was enough to put everyone in the house on edge. and now it was just you and ranboo in the house. you didn’t feel safe as even though ranboo promised to not let anything happen, you didn’t wanna risk it.

“we should move. there’s no point in having such a big house for two people, what are we going to use the extra space for heh? hide and seek with people who have our address. no thank you. I say we move leave this mess behind and start completely over, hell I’d feel safer in the us and that’s saying something”

ranboo agreed the house didn’t have the happiest memories attached to it anymore, it hurt walking past the hallway as it would bring back the memory of him crying into the crook of y/ns neck whilst tubbo left the house.

“let’s do it, I’ll do an early stream then we can look for houses. go take a shower. I’ll stay close to the door so you’re safe, then you can stay in my room whilst I stream, you can join me if you would like.”

“you’re being very protective all of a sudden...let me guess you got the message from our mods announcing the obsessive fans are at it again?”

“go take a shower.”

“no.”

ranboo ended up picking you up, carried you to the bathroom and turned the shower on before putting you on your feet.

“quick shower I’ll see you later.”

and with that he left the room shutting the door behind him, 30 minutes later you got changed and followed ranboo to his room ready to join him whilst he streams

“hey boo, can I join you? I kinda wanna get into streaming again.”

“I'm so glad you asked, I was going to do a face cam stream, if that’s okay?”

“of course.”

you grabbed his mask and glasses whilst he locked the door so you were both safe. “here you go.”

“thank you.”

the pair of you started the stream and it was honestly going well, you were having so much fun you forgot about all the negative things currently going on, you began to understand why ranboo continued streaming as for those 2-4 hours of streaming it felt as though everything was back to normal. 3 hours later the two of you ended stream and Twitter went crazy. tweets ranged from fans talking about how ranboo was streaming with you, how Tommy was in chat, and how tubbo was modding as people who mentioned anything about their address being leaked were banned by tubbo. the one thing that caught ranboos eye was fan art and a picture of you both from the stream captioned ‘they’re platonic soulmates your honour’ ranboo went as far to like, retweet and comment on it.

ranaltboo: glad you liked the stream it was great having y/n back, think I might make them play tattletail next stream

definitelynoty/n: isn’t that the Furby game that terrified you in 2021? bring it on boo!

Twitter went crazy over this interaction, you had finally come back to social media after months of being inactive, and it looked like you were here to stay. a month later you and ranboo moved out of the house and sold it to your aunt and her wife and their three adopted children, you explained the situation and even changed the locks for them all before they moved in.

“Please do tell us if anyone shows up who shouldn’t be. we changed the locks as you were aware- oh hello little one.”

you noticed one of their children decided to cling onto your leg

“I like your hair it’s colourful!”

“Indeed it is.”

“WOAH A GIANT!”

the little girl let go of your leg and ran to ranboo asking to be picked up, unsure of what to do he looked towards you. however, you were too busy laughing about the fact he was compared to a giant.

“I'm so sorry uh if you want to pick her up you can, you don’t have to.”

“pick me up, tall man... I want to be taller!”

ranboo ended up standing next to you with an arm around your waist whilst the child sat on his shoulders happily playing with his hair.

“ranboo do not drop that child.”

“I didn't- I didn't plan on it y/n.”

eventually, it was time to leave and the child reluctantly let go of ranboo.

“bye-bye!! hope to see you soon!”

soon enough you were at a smaller house, far away from the old house, leaving behind the negative feelings. it could only get better, a week later the pair of you had settled into the new house, it finally felt like home. you and ranboo were now streaming full time again, safe to say the two of you were thriving and closer than ever.

“so I’m thinking if I hit the sub-goal today I’ll let chat pick what colour I dye my hair.”

“make it higher, and I’ll let you cut my hair.”

“Are you being serious? oh my god!”

a few minutes later you took to Twitter to announce you were going live.

y/n: kidnapping children in the sims with ranboo psst check the subgoal.

within 20 minutes you had hit the sub-goal, chat ended up picking another random neon colour for your hair.

“right hair dye and the cutting stream will be this weekend, now let’s go back to kidnapping.”

tubbo, tommy, and jack felt awful for what happened and went back to the house where you used to live, hoping to see you there so they could apologise, tubbo knocked on the door only to be met by a young child.

“my sister watches you on twitch!”

“oh that’s lovely.. are y/n and ranboo here?”

an older woman came to the door.

“oh no, I’m sorry dear they both moved out, but they left this box and said to give it to you if you returned.”

“do you know where they moved to?”

“I'm sorry dear, I'm not allowed to tell you that information for safety reasons.”

“I understand, thanks anyway.”

they ended up going back to jacks where the three of them had been staying.

“We should open the box.”

tubbo opened the box and emptied the items onto the floor, inside was the rocks y/n handed tubbo from every trip, photos of the group, a necklace y/n had gifted to Tommy a day before the argument, and a hat y/n had taken from jack during a trip to a zoo.

“what the fuck!”

“holy shit!”

“they really kept all these in hopes we would come back?”

“and now we’re too late.”

it was now the weekend you and ranboo were ready to stream, you stood leaning on ranboo who was significantly smaller than you as you lowered the chair he sat on.

“starting stream...now.”

after the starting soon intro played, you explained what was happening to any new viewers or people who didn’t watch the stream.

“so I’m about to become Edward Scissorhands...I love that film can we watch it later?”

“yeah mhm sure!”

you didn’t know this but your ex best friends were watching and ever so often would show up in the chat.

“so boo, what are we doing with your hair today?”

“just a trim please darling?”

“This is y/ns hairdressers you get what I’m capable of!”

you ended up doing a pretty good job of cutting ranboos hair, even he was impressed.

“I didn’t doubt you for a minute!”

“mhm sure thing please don’t mess up my hair tall one!”

soon enough you had the dye on. 45 minutes later you left to wash it off, leaving ranboo to entertain stream,

“chat I think I missed some of their hair it’s okay, I own scissors, I’ll just cut it.. speaking of they did a great job, didn't they? I honestly expected them to mess up.”

a few minutes later you joined ranboo again and spent the next few hours talking with chat. tubbo, tommy, and jack stayed the entire time. they loved the fact you and ranboo were able to stay close after what happened, Tommy noticed you were still wearing the necklace he got you many years ago and spammed them chat with him tubbo and jack

Tommy: THEYRE WEARING THE NECKLACE!!

jack: so what? they clearly don’t wanna talk to us.

tubbo: shut up listen to them.

“chat why are we spamming platonic soulmates?”

“they’ve been saying it all over Twitter, look on trending y/n.”

you started to blush slightly at all the amazing artwork soon enough the stream came to an end, after saying goodbye the pair of you sat together going through fan art. unfortunately the one that caught your eye was this one twitter post where the artist had created a drawing of a piece of paper with you, ranboo, tommy, tubbo, and jack, however the paper was ripped separating you and ranboo from the others, captioned ‘it was never meant to be’ this clearly upset ranboo as he took off his mask and glasses placing them on the desk before going straight to his bed.

“boo…are you okay?”

“Are you tired of me? are you going to leave next?”

“what? no of course not! I could never get tired of you, why do you ask?”

“everyone else has left..i thought they cared about us, i knew it would happen eventually and i couldn’t stop it, i’m sorry, y/n, please don’t hate me.”

you sat on the edge of the bed looking down at the floor,

“come here.”

you watched him roll over to face you.

“you know there’s no one else who I'd rather spend the rest of my life with, right…if i hated you i wouldn’t have moved house with you. it’s not your job to fix everything and make everything better, you’re a streamer for christ sake not a therapist.”

“i guess so.. can we watch that thing you were on about for ages.”

“edward scissorhands? “

“mhm!”

you could tell he wanted to be distracted, so you agreed and put the film on, towards the end you began to get upset due to how overwhelming everything was.

“Why are you crying?”

“poor Edward.”

“come here.”

ranboo pulled you into a hug you laid there crying into his chest, he knew that wasn’t the reason you were crying, but he wasn’t about to make you tell him, luckily it didn’t take long for you to stop crying as ranboo quickly distracted you.

“ranboo..”

“yeah y/n?”

“I feel bad i didnt realise how much pressure was on you whilst everyone was arguing.”

“Hey, it’s okay, is that what’s upsetting you?”

“mhm.”

“don’t blame yourself, i’d do it all over again to keep you safe and happy..then again i didn’t do a good job on keeping you happy.”

“you did..you were always there for me even when i gave up on social media, you shared your room with me after i started receiving creepy messages from that obsessed fan, hell you even went on adventures with me even though it was clear you hadn’t been sleeping, just so we could spend time together and forget about what was happening. you mean a lot to me boo.”

“i love you.”

“i love you too bud, I’m tired.”

“go to sleep, it’s been a long day.”

“okay.”

“you just staying there?”

“yes.”

“oh, oh okay, goodnight.”

about a year later the two of you were still thriving, ranboo got you a promise ring a few months earlier.

“heh what’s this for?”

“as your best friend i promise to stay by your side and keep you safe and make sure that you’re happy, in other words you're stuck with me till the end of time.”

“boo…i really don’t know what to say.. thank you so much!”

“you don’t have to say anything!”

you ended up going out to buy him a promise ring when he started the stream and decided to take your cousins with you now that they were a little older. ranboo was doing a facecam stream when the door slammed open revealing you covering your three younger cousins ranboo not realising you were hiding them from the camera, instinctively stood up covering the camera

“ranboooooo!”

“yes you three and y/n ,what do you need?”

“we would like to watch a film!”

“Okay, i’ll go put one on, y/n will you entertain chat?”

“sure thing boo boy!”

once they left you sat fixing your hair forgetting you were wearing the ring chat noticed this and went crazy, so did Tommys group with tubbo and jack.

tubbo: that’s a ring, right??

jack: yeah looks like it.

Tommy: holy shit I always thought if anyone was gonna get married it would be tubbo and y/n, they were inseparable.

tubbo: hilarious.

jack: it could just be a ring, no one mentioned marriage tommy!

Tommy: we should congratulate them.

jack: at least let them explain fucking hell.

soon enough ranboo came back into the room,

“sorry one of them found it hilarious to steal my glasses...”

“they’re little shits i swear to god but i love them.”

you both noticed chat going crazy and both looked at each other before laughing.

“i'm sorry, i can’t take you serious in the mask and glasses!”

“i can’t take you serious with neon hair, but here we are!”

“rude!”

you and ranboo quickly put an end to the rumours,

“no we’re not engaged or married, it is a promise ring. no they’re not our children, they’re y/ns cousins they just spend a lot of time here..chat stop calling me and y/n parents and comparing us to phil that’s not..that’s not how it works okay!”

“parent arc!”

“y/n, don’t encourage them!”

“it’s a little bit funny!”

soon enough the bit came to an end and eventually ranboo ended the stream.

“hey boo look what i got you”

you handed him a little black box, inside was a ring similar to yours

“i promise to always stick around and be here for you”

“oh my god”

ranboo tackled you into a hug thanking you several times for his rings. you and ranboo were living your best life meanwhile jack, tommy, and tubbo were stuck dealing with the guilt of what happened, but they’re weren’t giving up that easy. they wanted you both back, that’s when you received a notification, tommyinnit has sent you a message request: hey y/n can we talk..please?

taglist

@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee

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azenkii · 4 years ago

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A Long List of Trash Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons

...that i couldn't get out of my head:

(warning: SUPER LONG POST i havent figured out how to trim posts yet)

he's the one who unchains azula despite iroh's protests. she doesn't even try to fight him, just cries into his shoulder and keeps mumbling about how father's going to be so disappointed in her. he takes her to her rooms and has her drink a sleeping draught, then stations the best guards he has left outside her chambers.

his first council meeting takes place literally a day after sozin's comet. he hobbles into the council chamber shirtless with his entire torso covered in bandages and every council member just looks at him like '...what'

he does NOT sleep for like,,a week after sozin's comet and then another two weeks after his coronation. katara, aang and suki try to persuade him to sleep and he doesn't listen. eventually sokka, toph and mai team up to literally drag his ass to bed and tell him he's not allowed to get up until he sleeps (does mai pin him to the bed with her knives? yes. is it kinky or sexual in any way? definitely not.)

he drinks So. Much. Tea. at this point it's practically tasteless to him but he drinks it anyway because he just needs something to do and tea is something familiar. he keeps iroh on his toes because he's constantly asking for new tea blends, uncle, i think i actually tasted the last one,

he flat-out refuses to grow his hair for at least a year after ozai's defeat. the second it starts getting close to his chin he shears it off himself, with his knife, and his stylist has a heart attack every single time

when he's tired he'll occasionally jump up when one of his guards moves. it stops after a bit, but for the first month and a half or so he's really twitchy. when sokka asks, the only explanation he can come up with is that he's not used to having people stand behind him silently and not want to kill him, much less want to protect him (sokka immediately takes him out for a shopping trip and makes a point of walking behind him the entire time, but only on zuko's right side, where he can clearly see it if sokka moves towards him)

when the healer declares azula mentally unstable and in need of an institution, he shuts himself in his office for the rest of the night. no one's allowed in, not even iroh. he finally emerges in the morning, eyes red from crying and sleep deprivation, and tells the librarian that he'd like a list of the best mental institutions in the country, please, the best in the world if you can get them

he loves theatre (is this even a headcanon?). unfortunately it practically died out in the fire nation along with the rest of the creative arts, leaving nothing but small troupes like the ember island players. one of zuko's personal goals (meaning things he wants to accomplish that aren't as important as restoring his country) is to bring back theatre; he finally manages to do it after about eight months or so of being fire lord, along with other arts like dancing, music and sculpture

he establishes a national day of mourning, on the first day of autumn every year, to commemorate the genocide of the air nomads. from 100AG onwards, every calendar printed in the fire nation has it marked. at first it was called the day of repentance, but aang persuaded him to have it changed (by arguing that he didn't want guilt to be a literal staple of fire nation culture)

he introduces literally So Many educational reforms, plus a mandatory class that teaches students about the cultures of the other nations (air nomads included) and how some of their traditions overlap

he turns down the offer of having a statue put up of him in the capital. toph ignores him and does it anyway.

he visits azula regularly, makes sure she's (relatively) comfortable and well-fed, and sometimes just sits down outside her door and tells her about everything that's going on right now ('some of the far colonies have developed their own standardised writing, azula, you wouldn't believe it, and i've asked the fire sages to come visit more often—but you never liked them, did you? oh, well; i'll make sure none of them go into your chambers by mistake')

(he doesn't know it, but when he does this azula sits by the door and listens. she wonders what kind of writing the colonists have developed, and whether or not the fire sages have taken on some new recruits.)

he hates being above anyone else. never sits in the throne if he can help it, nor does he sit on the dais in the council room. when he talks to people shorter than him, he finds himself stooping a little bit to talk to them on their level (the exception to this rule is sokka, who he mocks for being shorter all the way up until sokka grows taller than him, the bastard)

the first time he visits the earth kingdom, the earth king's ministers call a toast. he ends up being the only one who has to sit out, because he's too young to drink by earth kingdom law

once his servants figure out he won't kill them for talking to him, they start becoming a lot more bold, telling him off when he doesn't take care of himself. at one point, they force him to let them take care of him so much that he literally just bolts into the gardens and hides there until the staff rope in mai and ty lee

when he needs to escape, he does one of two things: (a) he dresses up as the blue spirit and does some parkour until he calms down, or (b) he goes to work at the jasmine dragon. (b) happens less often bc the jasmine dragon's in ba sing se, but there's been a few memorable incidents when an earth kingdom diplomat walks in and yells, 'LEE?!' when they see the fire lord

the first court artist who draws him also happens to be the one who drew azulon and ozai. he draws zuko without his scar. zuko takes one look at it and tells him, very calmly, that he'd like him to leave, please.

zuko burns the portrait. he doesn't fire the court artist, but he never calls on him again unless he has to. a second court artist is called, and can't help but be a bit confused when the fire lord tells him to be sure to include the scar

he forgets the crown. a lot. sometimes he walks into council meetings in his sleepwear with his hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a bunch of scrolls tucked under his arm. none of his councilmen have the guts (or the heart) to tell him that this is not, in fact, formal council wear

he goes to feed the turtleducks when he's stressed. he thinks he's being subtle. he's not. the entire palace knows, and they consciously give him space when they see him in the turtleduck garden

most of his staff are older than him, so they look at him and see this teeny tiny fire lord who is So Small and who Must Be Protected. the day after zuko's coronation, the head chef holds a meeting where they commence Operation Do-Not-Let-That-Boy-Turn-Out-Like-His-Father (subsection He's-The-Only-Good-Thing-We-Have)

one night he wakes up to find suki sitting in his room, decked out in full kyoshi warrior garb and makeup, and just about screams blue murder. suki tells him there are suspicions of an assassin in the palace, and would you please stop yelling it's very distracting, we won't be able to hear anyone coming over that racket

zuko gets very, very paranoid of random spirits after that. yeah, suki looks like a possibly malevolent spirit when she's wearing her makeup, what about it? (when he tells sokka he's highkey terrified of spirit shenanigans, sokka just looks at him and says, 'man, the stories i could tell...', and THAT'S when zuko remembers sokka spent like six months more than he did travelling with the avatar)

on his first visit to the southern water tribe, he removes his boots and leg guards, rolls up his pants and kneels barefoot in the snow. even though chief hakoda immediately starts trying to pull him up, he's stubborn as hell and stays kneeling for the entirety of his very long, very sincere apology-on-behalf-of-the-fire-nation speech. he nearly loses his toes to frostbite after that, and both sokka and katara never stop giving him shit for it

the first time he grows a 'beard' is completely accidental. he's stressed over some trade miscommunications with chief hakoda, hasn't slept in a few days...and then when sokka arrives as water tribe ambassador to help smooth things over, he takes one look at zuko and says 'man, facial hair does not suit you'

zuko: facial what now

he checks a mirror to find that he's got stubble covering his chin, dark enough that it almost looks intentional, and holy gods how the fuck did he not notice this before

'UNCLE WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME' 'i assumed you were doing it on purpose' 'WHEN HAVE I EVER DONE ANYTHING ON PURPOSE'

he shaves it all off immediately, of course, which prompts a lot of teasing and rib-poking from sokka until zuko finally snaps that he's scared it'll make him look like his father. sokka stops after that.

(the day after sokka leaves, zuko finds that a mysterious someone has scribbled all over ozai's royal portrait, giving him a frankly ridiculous beard and moustache that literally CANNOT be grown in real life. oddly enough, he can't bring himself to care about the defamation of royal property. he's too busy laughing.)

his paths cross with toph and sokka more than any of the others, because sokka is ambassador and toph is technically still a beifong. most of the time, at formal functions, he ends up sequestered in the corner with toph and a hoard of snacks, and they talk and swear much more than they usually do (zuko's ministers once heard him when he was drunk with toph, and the servants swear the older ministers' ears started bleeding)

he restores fire nation cultural festivals, and in doing so subjects himself to learning a lot of complicated dances

during one memorable week, he wrote so many letters and drafted so much legislation that he ran out of paper. he had to go visit the nearest school and ask for some

he keeps up with his firebending and sword training even though it's hard to fit into his schedule. his ministers refrain from reminding him that he has guards to protect him now; it's still hard for zuko to trust his safety with anyone but himself (team avatar is the exception).

he started sleepwalking about two months into his reign. no one knew why. one time, he nearly sleepwalked right off the edge of a balcony, and one of his guards had to grab him by the back of his robes.

the sleepwalking stopped after around a month and never happened again. at this point it's practically palace legend.

after freeing the war prisoners, he went around collecting every single earthbender-proof wooden cell he could find in the capital and surrounding areas. when he'd gotten most of them, he gathered them into a huge pile in the city square and set fire to them with his own hands.

unfortunately he couldn't do that with the waterbender metal cells but he did get toph to come in and bend them all into pretty shapes (well, toph thought they were pretty shapes. everyone else thinks they're meaningless squiggles)

he learned how to write with both hands at the same time out of sheer necessity (he refused scribes until it became clear that he'd be putting some people out of a job; that was when he started letting scribes write very, very minor things, but all important documents/drafts/letters are still written by him)

he once put the wet end of an ink brush in his mouth instead of the wooden end by mistake. didn't even realise until he bit down to keep it in place and ink went oozing everywhere

when his guards rushed in to find him coughing and spluttering black liquid all over his desk they thought he'd been poisoned but no he's just stupid

on his 17th birthday, his first one after being crowned, he got tackled by team avatar in the middle of the ballroom and ended up at the bottom of a cuddlepile for like ten minutes

this cuddlepile happened at an event that was very much public and very much formal. it was a scandal for weeks

just. fire lord zuko, guys. so much potential

#holy cow this ended up so much longer than i intended #atla #avatar #zuko #firelord zuko #headcanons

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neesieiumz · 4 years ago

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Pray You Catch Me {Izuku Midoriya x Reader}

[Pro-Hero!Izuku Midoriya x Former Pro-hero!Reader]

[P ART TWO] [PART THREE]

Based on the song Pray You Catch Me by Beyoncé

Summary: You couldn’t be ignorant anymore, he wasn’t himself anymore. You went to investigate, but will you like what you find?

A/n: SURPRISE!! This is something I thought of when my creative juices were flowing! And before you ask, yes there will be a part two and it will be longer! So enjoy this short drabble!

Word count: 1.5k

Pray to catch you whispering, I pray you catch me listening

The outside world quiet, nothing but the silent pitter-patters of the rain falling from the sky. People were asleep, as it was deep into the late of the night. The world was falling asleep, yet the world around you was falling apart.

“Of course you know I enjoyed our time together.”

The house was quiet, the large mansion you lived in never felt colder, or emptier. You wrapped yourself in a robe, a sheer one. You bought it for your anniversary three months ago, along with a sinful lingerie set that he so very much enjoyed on that day, or that night. You even made sure it was all in his favorite color. You wanted to put on a show for him, show yourself off for him. Show that you loved and appreciated everything he did in your house, everything he did for you. Show him that he was still your everything.

“God you look amazing tonight, and you wore my favorite color too.”

You weren’t always a housewife, you had dreams, you were in the hero course with him for god sakes, he knew your goals. It wasn’t until you had a major injury, it put you out of commission for quite a while. You had to go to physical therapy, it was a long, tumultuous journey and he was by your side through it all. You were in a wheelchair for three months, and you couldn’t walk a few steps until a month after that.

“The way you walked, it just…. pulled me in.”

The both of you got married a few days after you completed your physical therapy. You didn’t want to wait anymore, you knew he was the one for you. He was a good person, everyone around you guys knew this. He could do no wrong. The good person you were able to see in him. You loved that in him. That’s why he was able to convince you to not take up hero work once again, even after your doctor cleared you. Talking about how he was so close to his goal of becoming the number one hero, and that with how much he was making, you wouldn’t have to worry about working as a hero ever again. How he didn’t want to worry about you on the field, how much you would be on his mind while on the job. How he would be distracted and that could lead to fatalities.

“Her? Oh, you don’t have to worry about her sweetheart.”

You knew how stressful being a hero was, you were one. So you agreed, you gave up on your dream. So you became a housewife, choosing to run his foundation behind the scenes. You would come out in official appearances for him, and his work as the number one hero. You would dress up and smile in front of the cameras and talk about how proud you are of your husband, becoming the Symbol of Hope. People would gush about your relationship and how perfect the two of you were. You two complete each other, and it would be you against the whole world. That’s what you thought, that would be your life for the rest of your life. He was it.

“She and I… haven’t been working out for a while. That’s where you come in.”

And what was life without a few challenges? But this… this wasn’t just a challenge, it was a choice. You silently slid against the door, falling on the cold, hard floor. It was a choice. Choices he made. You ignored it at first, choosing to believe what he was telling you. How he was getting way more responsibilities, “owning and running an agency was so different than just being signed to one,” he said. But you also saw how Kirishima ran his own, along with Bakugou. How Mina never complained about him never being home, forgetting things that were important to you. How he was home on time, at eight pm. He may have left a few hours later, but he was always home, he was always around. Considering that they were both heroes, they had so much time for each other. He was the #4 Hero, they basically have the same responsibilities. Izuku… he wasn’t around, at all.

“With you… I feel a breath of fresh air, something new.”

So here you were, wrapping in a thin robe, streaks of tears running down your cheeks, splayed access to the floor with your ear on the door of his office. Your eyes were red from all the silent tears, your body shaking and you were shivering from the cold air blowing from the A.C all through your large home. Your large house. Everything was falling apart, everything you knew, everything you had. Your breath hitched as you listen to his sweet words, words that you had believed he only said to you. You wouldn't expect him to do this to you. Izuku? Izuku Midoriya, who would rather cry than hurt a spider? Your Izuku? Your lover? Him? Never, he could never. No one would believe it, you wouldn’t believe it if a random person told you this.

“I love you too sweetheart, I have to go before she sees I’m not in bed.”

But here you were, listening to the evidence. Listening to him betray his vows, betraying everything he promised you on that day. One of the happiest days of your life, where your life would be set forever. Where you would always believe in your love. The love the two you shared, that you thought you shared. You thought his loyalty for you was undying, yours was. You thought it could never go out. No matter what happens, he would always come back to you. That his and your love story was infinite.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, good night darling.”

You could hear him shifting around, his desk creaking from him sitting on it. You took a deep breath, bending your back until it cracked before slowly getting to your feet. You continued to crack your stiff bones from sitting on the floor. You had a choice. You stay, let him see you, see how much he just lost in just one phone call. See you standing outside his office door. See how much he fucked up. Let him get on his knees, grovel, plead for you to not leave him. You could pop the bubble he thought he put himself in.

The floorboards were squeaking, he was getting closer to the door.

Or, you could go back to bed, lay down, and pretend to be asleep. Slow down your breathing when you hear him come into the bedroom. Pretend you never overheard his conversation. Continue living the lie, the bubble, that he put you in. You live a good life, you want for nothing. Plus, you still love him. Izuku was your all, he was your everything. Maybe, maybe you could work through it. You could continue to exploit that, live your lavish life as the wife as the #1 hero. Pretend that he’s still in love with you like he didn’t betray you.

You could see the silhouettes of his feet right outside the door.

The doorknob turned. And you made your decision.

He opened the door.

And saw nothing, no one, behind the door.

---

Izuku felt strange as he opened the door. He looked around but found no one standing there. He blinked before pocketing his cellphone, taking a deep breath. There was no one there, he reassured himself. He closed the door behind him before heading to the stairs. He jogged up the long flight of stairs before turning a couple of corners on his second-floor before approaching the bedroom, the one he shared with his wife.

Izuku took a deep breath, shaking his head. Everything was working out for him. He slowly turned the doorknob, careful to not let the door squeak too loud. He slowly tip-toed inside, looking over the large king-sized bed in the middle of the room. He saw his wife, sound sleep, her back to him. He half-smiled sadly, closing the door behind him slowly. He tip-toed across the room. He gently grabbed the comforter, before peeling it back and slowly climbing into bed. He glanced at her body every second to make sure she didn’t wake up. Noticing her body not moving, he made himself comfortable before turning his body to face the door. Just before he closed his eyes, he dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He placed it inside the drawer on his bedside, before snuggling back into his arms and closing his eyes.

On the other side, your eyes were wide open, hearing your husband walk inside the room. Tears were falling down your face, staining the bed. You controlled your breathing, making sure that your body wasn’t shaking to appoint he would see it. You made sure that he wouldn’t see anything was amiss, would think that you were still asleep.

All you could do at that moment was, all you could think was

What do I do?

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mzjmesa · 3 years ago

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Out Loud | Chloe Decker

She was a good detective. Is. The pride of the office, the officer praised here and there. Your partner. Your bestfriend. Detective Chloe Decker. It wasn't because of her smart, genius mind that attracted you to her, no. Well, sometimes, anyway. But it could've been alot of reasons, loving Chloe Decker. And you would've loved any other reasons— to make this easier, to make the feelings disappear sooner. Because whatever the attraction was, it was unprofessional— Chloe never did unprofessional. And you fear if you couldn't hold it any longer, she'd run away from you.

You can't bear that.

But you loved Chloe either way. You loved her eyes, her kindness, that bright and knowing smile that goes with her eyes, you loved the way her lips part when she's about to say something defensive— you loved her. You loved her the most when she knocks at your door and asks how you're doing. You loved the late night talks and laughs about freshmen days which was rare, because she never spent so much time in highschool, she got unending stories about it anyway. You loved the way she listens. You loved her. You loved Chloe Decker. And as she passes by your desk, to the man she likes, you reminded yourself that it was wrong. Wrong because you were supposed to be happy for her.

A knock on your desk drifted your thoughts away, Dan. “How are we doing?” he asked, if he'd caught you staring enviously at Chloe and Lucifer, he hadn't mind.

“How are we doing?” You repeated stupidly, still hungover from yesterday. Which by the way was Chloe's fault, you just wouldn't admit it to yourself.

Dan shrugs, “Yeah? I sent you files to look at, remember?”

Oh.

You shake your head as though it would help you focus on the present and tried to remember where you had placed the papers. You checked your drawers, trying hard to block out Chloe and Lucifer's voices. You busied your hand flipping through dozens of papers, vividly remembering the file's name.

Jonathan Flinn's. Ahh. Case closed for 2 months, there wasn't much evidence of the murder, but the majority linked to him, and eventually the court pronounced him guilty. There had been questions left unsolved, and if Espinoza wasn't up to anything, it would've been left at that.

You sighed, “Have you talked to Chloe about this?”

“Yeah,” He looked past your shoulder to where Chloe was, then back to you. “she thinks it's a bad idea.”

Of course she did. You did, too. That was a thing between you two, something about your guts always telling you the same what's what. That's why you were partnered with her, and you would've loved to continue being one (although truth be told, you still were in papers anyway) but she'd found a consultant, a batshit crazy one at that. Lucifer Morningstar. Always telling himself he's the devil, going on and about his everyday life like anyone gives a damn, and always making everything about himself. If he wasn't charming, and a ‘friend’ of Chloe's, you would've hated him. Most times you did. But times when Chloe was down, he was always the first to cheer her up. You used to be the one doing that, until he came.

“You should listen to her, Dan.”

“Oh c'mon! I would've agreed with Chloe and wouldn't have come to you if it weren't so important. His mother is my god—”

“—mother. Yes, yes, I know that, Dan. I know you think this is a good idea to pay her back, too. But it's not, trust me. Trust Chloe.” You exhaled, feeling the weight of her stare on your back. “It could go worst anyway, what when we can't find any evidence or if we do, worst case scenario is it'll only lead to him. Again. We'll just worsen his situation.”

Dan sighed, massaging his jaw with exasperation because he knew you were right. And also because as much as he pretends not to care too much, he does. You loved that about him.

As you heard footsteps behind, you handed back the files to Dan who hid it behind his back, masking his irritation with a smile to Chloe.

You ignored her, lingering your eyes on the missing button of Dan's shirt.

“Ella found some prints, we haven't identified it yet but it's likely our lead.” Chloe started just behind you, and you knew Lucifer was beside her as much as you hated it. “In the meantime, Dan? I'd like to discuss to you about the Flinn case, Lucifer and I went back to the crime scene yesterday. We found nothing.”

Dan frowned. “I thought you said it was a bad idea.”

“I know, I know. I... ugh... well I went over it again, anyway.”

A small smile creeped on his face, and you were almost sure his eyes were watering when Lucifer jumped on the conversation about his father, bla bla bla. You couldn't care less. Chloe did, and that should be enough for Lucifer. She'd always been enough for you. You bit your lips, wishing you could busy your hands with something. Anything. But your desk was on your back, and oh, Chloe, too.

It felt immature and all, but you were hurting just knowing they were together, seeing them would break you.

“I'll check in on with Ella.” Chloe announced, “(Y/N)?”

“Are you having a stroke Miss (L/N)? Staying still like a trained robot, you're scarying me— and believe when I say I rarely get scared.” Lucifer added.

Oh you believe alright. And robots are trained?! Trying to hide your feelings with a forced smile, you turned around, making sure you weren't going to make an eye contact with a certain detective, and immediately grabbed a random paper and pen you can hold— scribbling anything. Anything at all.

“I'm alright.” You answered after a beat or two, still unbothered to look. Who would want to, honestly.

Chloe cleared her throat, whispered something to Lucifer, and then bid goodbye. It was then when you looked at them walking away. Lucifer's hand on her back, Chloe looking small beside him— your chest aching the same, if not, more.

You're definitely not gonna look again.

You had a week off work, and you'd almost fell to your knees thanking God when the lieutenant told you. You needed it more than you needed Chloe, which proves just how important it was— Chloe had been. Still is, by the way.

It was 8 am, by now Chloe would be at her desk, examining or making reports, or on a crime scene with Ella and, Lucifer. You snapped out of your mind, reminding yourself you'd needed the vacation because work and particularly Chloe had been stressing you out and very much so hurting you.

You'd hit the beach, go to the mountains for the view,— you didn't wanna hike though, you needed rest not making sweats— visit your sister and niece, and then finally bake while blasting Taylor Swift because admit it or not, you're much broken than your grandmother's vase.

When the water was hot enough, you took a bath and dressed. A peach-colored tank top that comes along with a brown mini skirt and a coat was your outfit for the day. Only, the coat reminded you too much of Chloe's. She liked coats. And that coat, back then warning you that she'd steal it eventually. So you changed with other coats, just didn't fit well with the shirt and skirt, so you gave in and left your hair untouched and untied. Grabbing your pouch and your gun— a licensed one, just in case. And opened your door. You would've preferred the bright sky and fresh air of the morning in LA. But Chloe Decker was standing there, fist on air as if she'd been ready to knock.

You froze.

Were you having a stroke? Most likely.

“(Y/N).”

“Chloe.”

Wasn't she supposed to be at work? You didn't mind either way, but it surprised you still, she hadn't been visiting much since... Lucifer. Everything's just been different since he arrived, not in a good way for you.

You stepped aside, not saying anything since you figured out a human wouldn't understand any word that comes out of your mouth. She went in, instead of sitting on your couch like the old days, she lingered on the living room, standing and looking at you.

Most times you hadn't mind.

She started, “How are you?”

“I'm good.”

“No, (Y/N). How are you?”

You didn't know what to say. Or why she'd ask a question as that. “I'm not—”

“Do you like me?”

What.

Your face must've given the shock, because she answered your unasked question. “Dan said some things. I'm-I'm not— you're not transferring, are you?”

Oh you're definitely gonna choke the life out of Dan. But knowing him, he wouldn't have spit it out too easily. He was probably drunk and didn't mean it. Still, you wished you said it to Chloe yourself. About the liking and transferring.

You remained silent, reading the expression on Chloe's face. Was she sad? Upset? After years of knowing her, you would've known right away. But now you couldn't. And you fear you might've forgotten the every detail of her face, too.

“(Y/N)...” Her voice gave out, carrying every sadness within. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“About what?” You answered stupidly in a whisper, fearing that if you came into your senses everything would feel too real.

“About everything! About— about your feelings for me. About Seatte. About why you've been so far from me!”

“You have been far from me, Chloe.”

She frowns, and you knew millions and billions and gazillions of questions where popping in her mind.

Tears in your eyes were forming, and you hated it, all of this. She wasn't supposed to know at all. She wasn't supposed to know you had immature feelings for her. Wasn't supposed to know you were transferring atleast 'till next month. But Chloe wasn't dumb, and you should've known that.

Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat, her breathing heavy. “We could've talked about it.”

“We haven't talked much at all these days because of—” you cut yourself off, rolling your eyes at how sick it feels. You hated yourself for it, but you continued anyway. “Because of Lucifer.”

She exhaled. “Lucifer and I are complicated.”

“I know that, Chloe.” You said firmly, meeting her gaze pitying you. Of course she pities you. “I also know you like him so much. I know you've been crying when he fake married that Candy. I know you've been sick worrying when he can't answer your texts or calls. I know you've gone lengths trying to understand him. I know. I know so much so that I didn't wanna be so selfish and tell you things you didn't wanna hear because it'll make your complicated relationship with Lucifer even more complicated. I fucking know. And I loved you too much.”

Chloe's tears were beginning to fall, one by one, slowly. And it hurts you to see her like this. Especially because you know you caused it.

“It was never my intention to push you away. You're my friend— can't we just stay like this?” She asked in a soft, breaking voice. And if it wasn't Chloe you would've said yes because people are easy to move on from. But it was indeed Chloe and she was... not like anyone you know. She was a missing piece of your puzzle. Only, you have never been a piece of hers.

“I love you, Chloe.”

It was weird, saying it out loud, to her. You never thought you could, knowing you were a coward than every cowards combined.

You did though, and that must've pulled something. Because Chloe approached you, side hugged, and then left.

So much for a vacation.

You spent the night crying.

Chloe Decker spent hers with the man she loved. And you were never that man.

#chloe decker x reader #chloe decker #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #netflix #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #wlw #angst #angsty #fluff #hurt/comfort #hurt no comfurt #hurt comfort

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hwascripts · 4 years ago

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What Izuku would be like in a relationship: The positive traits, the toxic traits, his love language, my own personal headcanons and an overall conclusion

WC: unknown

TW// POTENTIAL SPOILERS, No smut but Izuku is aged up, Toxic traits aren’t necessarily toxic...more so just bad traits, Teeny tiny little bit of angst, I think that’s it!

Masterlist

Disclaimer: I am in no way claiming the following headcanons are true. You are 100% free to disagree with me but please DO NOT send me hateful comments or asks. I am simply writing what I think Deku would be like in a relationship

a/n: Just to let you know, your nickname for him is Zuku just so you don’t think I kept spelling his name wrong.

-Deku is literally the kindest soul ever and it makes me want to cry. He’d give you his umbrella if you ever forgot yours, he’d literally carry you to first aid if you ever injure yourself- this man will legitimately do everything for you

-He’s incredibly observant. If he catches you looking at a pretty ring then he’ll literally show up at your door days later with that very same ring in his hands

“I saw you looking at it a few days ago and I wanted to surprise you!”

“Zuku baby oh my god how much did you spend?!”

“You don’t need to worry about it sunshine”

I wholeheartedly believe Izuku would call you his sunshine or something along those lines

-I have this one headcanon of him drawing you all the time as an excuse to “observe you and your quirk” but it’s really just because he wants to admire the way you shine underneath the sun- and that’s how he came up with the name Sunshine for you

-Deku has a heart of gold oh my god, this guy cares so much about you it’s unreal. Imagine trying to hide the fact that you’ve been crying while on a phone call- mission failed because he heard your shaky voice and now he’s on your doorstep with your favourite hoodie of his and your favourite snacks

-His memory is insanely good, like it’s freaky how good it is. Like you mentioned to him ONCE that you liked a certain drink and now he pulls up to your dates with that drink all the time (not like I’d complain if Deku brought me my favourite drink)

-Just like Bakugou, Deku is incredibly smart and he literally always comes up with a solution. You could literally vent to him about a problem you’re having at work and he’s come up with at least 73 solutions within 6 hours

-He’s determined and hardworking. Again, he’s just like Bakugou in the sense that he’ll put his blood, sweat and tears into whatever he’s doing- no matter if it’s a serious high stake mission or something like planning your weekly date. The second he puts his mind to something, he makes sure to give it his all.

-Izuku is your own personal cheerleader, this dude will hype you up no matter what. Training after work? he’s cheering for you. You completed a really difficult task? you better believe he’s gonna pat you on the back for it.

-He’s very protective of you. Remember when the LOV attacked the training camp and he rushed to find Kota? yeah he’s 10x more protective of you.

-And it’s not because he thinks you’re weak and can’t defend yourself, it’s because he genuinely worries about you all the time and just wants to make sure your always safe

-He’s an inspirational person, he makes you hella motivated to do even the most boring chores around the house

-Deku isn’t afraid to show his emotions. Unlike Bakugou, he’s often seen showing his emotions. Deku said “toxic masculinity who?”. He definitely gives 0 fucks if someone sees him crying/upset because I feel like Pro-Hero Deku would stop the stupid mindset of “Hero’s can’t show their genuine emotions”

-Izuku is the type of person to analyze all his losses, figure out what he did wrong and then learn from it to make sure he doesn’t make the same mistake again. He’s the complete opposite of Bakugou who gets bitter over his losses due to his superiority complex.

-He’s so good at comforting you that it’s unbelievable. Deku gives the warmest hugs that make you feel so safe- you literally cannot change my mind about this

-You know those hugs where the other person lightly rubs your back and lightly sways side to side with you? Yeah those are the hugs that Deku gives (he’d definitely give you a sweet little kiss on the forehead/cheek)

“Sunshine come here, let me hold you while you let out all your frustrations. I’ve got you, nothing can hurt you while you’re here with me”

-Can you tell I want some comforting Izuku hugs? He wouldn’t let go of you until he put a smile back on your face and GAHH oh my god I need Izuku hugs

-As much as I hate to do this, it needs to be done 😔✊🏻

-Izuku is such an over thinker, this guy worries about EVERYTHING under the sun. Your eyes didnt crinkle when you smiled? he’ll think you’re upset with him. You gave him a side hug rather than a normal hug? he’ll think he did something wrong.

-He’s self aware that he overthinks things but he just can’t seem to stop his thoughts. No matter how many times you reassure him that you aren’t upset with him, he’s subconsciously thinking about how to make it up to you

-He constantly pushes himself past his limits. You guys saw how many times he’s broken his bones. Deku may be intelligent but when it comes to his own self he can be completely hopeless

-The amount of times you’ve scolded him while you clean up his scrapes and cuts is insane. He just sits on the toilet lid and bites his lip nervously while you wave your finger angrily at him

“Sunshine please, I said I was sorry and that it won’t happen again!”

“Zuku you and I both know that’s a damn lie, I’ve had to patch you up 3 times this week! When are you going to start being more considerate of your limits?”

-I’m sorry but I picture him being so nervous to initiate anything with you. This guy would be so fidgety just by THINKING about holding your hand

-And deep down he knows he’s being ridiculous because come on, you’re his S/O and he’s been dating you for years now- why does he still get shaken up just by holding your hand?

-At first you think it’s cute, he’s just being respectful of your boundaries- but as time goes on you kind of get a little annoyed because he always asks you a bunch of times if you’re okay with him being affectionate.

“Zuku...sweetheart you know you don’t need to ask me a million times if I want to cuddle, right? I love cuddling with you!”

*cue sweating* “I’ll keep that in mind, Sunshine”

-He eventually gets a lot more comfortable with affection...more often than not you wake up with him nuzzled into your side like a cat

(Side note PLEASE wake him up with a bunch of kisses, he’ll literally melt)

-He’s very insecure about his scars because they make him feel like he’s “ugly” and sometimes he doesn’t even want you to look at them

-Do me a favour and please kiss along his scars/ trace them with your fingers while you compliment him- he’ll start crying because the scars he thought made him ugly are now starting to look beautiful to him

-This isn’t necessarily a toxic trait, more like a bad habit. Whenever Izuku gets stressed he’ll train himself to the brink of exhaustion just so he can try to focus on something other than how stressed he is

-Again, not a toxic trait but a bad one...Deku puts everyone else before himself. Which isn’t a bad thing if it’s done in a healthy amount, but Izuku goes to the extreme. I feel like he’d neglect his own needs just to satisfy everyone else and you’d have to intervene before it gets worse

“Sunshine I said I was fine, you don’t need to worry about me! Your Zuku is perfectly energized and ready to go”

“Zuku don’t lie to me, you know I can read you like a book. You’re coming with me and I’m putting you to bed”

-I hate to say it but this guy hates confrontation so much that sometimes he’ll suffer in silence for MONTHS before he even hints at being upset with something

-I honestly think your biggest argument with him would be about his lack of communication in terms of him not being completely honest about how he feels and he just breaks down-

-Like he has a really bad breakdown because he’s been bottling everything up for so long because he hates the idea of fighting with you.

-And now he’s sobbing because he’s so frustrated that he doesn’t know what else to do

-Anyways, the two of you just silently comfort each other until you’ve both calmed down enough to talk properly. This is the night Izuku finally starts opening up to you rather than bottling up every negative emotion he feels

-I honestly think his love language is a mixture of giving you gifts and words of praise

-He’s a little shy when it comes to showing you how he feels through affection, so giving you gifts and his praise get his point across

-He’s totally the type to send you cute messages throughout the day, send cute selfies when he misses you, or he just sends you a random bouquet of flowers because he saw them and thought of you

-Also the type of guy to have photos of the two of you displayed around his office. His most prized one being the photo of your first mission together

-Just warning you now that if you ever mention that your suit ripped or a certain item isn’t functioning properly then he’ll literally buy 10 replacements- each one better than the last

“Zuku I said that the sole of my BOOT ripped off, not my entire suit!”

“Well now you have 10 new upgraded suits to make sure it won’t happen again! Isn’t it great, Sunshine?”

(Someone take his credit card away from him)

I definitely think Izuku would be an amazing S/O! He’s caring, kind and comforting- and he does his very best to try and work on the bad habits he has.

Overall, I would say Izuku definitely would win a “S/O of the year award” (sorry Bakugou)

475 notes · View notes

barnesbabee · 2 years ago

Note

time till september? oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you babe☺️❤️

another four words and a member

late night + office + rooftop + love-at-first-sight -

CHOI JONGO

THIS IS ABOUT THE OFFICE SAN ONE ISN'T IT- But let's go

After Hours

"What?..." You asked, tears in your eyes.

"I'm sorry, at the time I thought it was a mistake but I keep thinking about her, even when I'm with you..."

Being broken up with was bad, awful, even. But being broken up with, in the middle of your office, with a confession of loving another woman that he cheated on you with was a new level of anger, sadness, distress and disappointment that you weren't aware you could feel.

You yelled at him to leave, with tears in your eyes. Fortunately you were covering for someone else, it was late at night and you were alone, so you felt free to kneel down on the floor sobbing and crying uncontrollably.

"Shit, I need some fucking air..." You said, as you wiped your tears and stood up, dusting off your skirt.

You headed towards the stairs and started going up to the roof, as it was late at night and going out to the street could be dangerous (and just a bother, in general, since you didn't want anyone to see you crying).

You opened the metal door to the rooftop and you were met with a random man's back. The door hit the brick wall, making a loud noise.

"Jesus- fuck. You scared the living shit out of me." The suited man said, turning around to look for the source of the sound.

He looked at his feet, the cigarette he was smoking was now on the ground.

"Well that's my smoking break over." He complained, stepping on the cigarette so it would be completely out.

"I'm sorry." You apologized, still trembling out of sadness and anger.

"What are you doing here, employees aren't meant to be on the rooftop." He asked, stepping closer to you, with his hands on the pockets of his suit pants.

"If employees aren't meant to be up here then waht are you supposed to be doing here?" You were sad, but also irritated, and another men being smart with you and pissing you off wouldn't fly.

The man chuckled.

"I guess you're right."

It was only then, after inspecting your face, that he noticed the slightly red eyes and makeup stains under your eyes.

"Are you okay, miss?"

You shrugged.

"Got cheated on and left for another woman."

"Shit..." He sighed. "That's complicated... Sadness still hits you at night, huh? Happens to me." He walked you to a small bench that was installed near one of the edges, with a beautiful view of the city.

"Given it happened about 10 minutes ago, yes, it still hits."

"He came to work to break up with you? That's fucked."

You giggled at how sad it truly was. You couldn't properly process what you were feeling at that moment, and you reacted in weird ways.

"Don't let the boss know, wouldn't want to be broken up with and fired."

The man laughed.

"C'mon, he wouldn't fire you like that..."

"I don't know, I've heard he's a pretty big asshole."

"Hey, I am not that evil!" He laughed.

"You might not be, but you're not the one who's in charge of firing or keeping me."

The man laughed, showing the most adorable gummy grin. You weren't understanding what was so funny but he was clearly having a good time.

"I don't think you're understanding what I mean, miss. I am the CEO."

You felt your soul leave your body and your heart drop to your feet.

"Hi, I am Choi Jongho, nice to meet you." He introduced himself, stretching out his hand.

You shook it, looking at him with big eyes.

"Hello, nice to meet you, I am Y/N your previous employee."

Jongho laughed again.

"Are you making fun of me? 'Cause you don't look like a CEO. I mean not that you don't look like you could be a CEO, but you're too cute to be mean like they say he is-" You were going off on a weird tangent, as you were stressed about calling the CEO evil to his face after giving him shit for being on the rooftop he owned.

"Y/N, I'm not firing you."

"No? Oh thank God, I totally thought you would."

He leaned back, supporting the weight of his upper body with his hands on the bench.

"I was going to after you called me evil, but then you called me cute so I guess you redeemed yourself."

You felt your face get hotter as you remembered calling your boss cute.

"Tonight has been so weird. Why didn't you tell me you were the CEO when I gave you shit for being on the rooftop?" You said, shivering after a gust of wind hit you.

"Well," Jongho said, pausing as he removed his suit jacket and placed it over your shoulders "it actually felt kinda nice having someone not suck up to me and talk to me like I'm just a person, not their boss."

"Isn't that poetic." You joked.

"Are you making fun of me again!?" He asked, grinning as he looked at you.

You shrugged.

"Mayhaps, who knows."

You shared a laugh, and for the hour or so you were there chatting to Jongho, you completely forgot about how sad you were.

The next day he came in the building earlier than usual and stopped by your desk to check on you. Everyone else was shocked that he was actually walking among employees, as he'd usually prefer to just stay in his office.

After a couple days of the visitations and constant walks around that particular floor, everyone (but you) understood that the man was infatuated with you, and it was stressful for him because he didn't know how to show he was interested in you, and most importantly, how long he should wait.

But he was exactly what you needed.

"Hey, uh, can you meet me at my office?"

Jongho tried to make it look professional, but the 'uh' paired with the blush on his cheeks gave him away.

You followed him to his office, and saw a big bouquet on his desk.

"I'm no good at this, I've only had one relationship before and it was before I had all this work so I'm a bit rusty..." He paused, grabbing the bouquet "Ever since that day on the rooftop I can't stop thinking about you. I know you just went through a tough breakup but I want to help you and... be by your side."

Jongho extended the flowers, which you took with a smile.

"Well Mr. Choi, I accpet you help. And your company."

8 notes · View notes

nugnthopkns · 4 years ago

Text

dance me to the end of love (i)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential spoilers for the west wing if you've never seen the show

series masterpost: here

a/n: hi!! i am so incredibly happy to finally be putting this fic out into the world. it means an awful lot to me and i can't wait to share the little world i've created :)) x

Magdalene is content with where she’s ended up.

Denver is wonderful. Her friends are there, her cat is there, and it’s the perfect place for a fresh start. She arrived in the city nearly six years ago – a wide-eyed University of Denver freshman and has stayed put ever since. Her hometown of Aspen holds a few too many bad memories, but is close enough that she can return if an emergency calls for it. So far she hasn’t left, too engrossed in finishing her degree and moving on. There’s a job offer lined up with the university’s library upon graduation that Magdalene is ecstatic about. It means she gets to stay right where she is – where she’s comfortable.

☼☼☼☼

The sun might be shining as she exits her apartment building, but it’s cold for March. Magdalene pulls the thick scarf her best friend Bette got her for Christmas higher up her face and walks as quickly as possible to campus. There’s a brief meeting to attend with her advisor before grabbing lunch with Bette, and then her plan is to spend the rest of the day holed up in the library working on her thesis. It’s due in two weeks, with the defence in just over a month, and Magdalene is incredibly nervous. Though she’d gone through submitting her undergraduate thesis two years ago, presenting her master’s research was going to be a lot harder. She’s heard through the grapevine that the committees are being tough this year and she doesn’t want to fail.

Dr. Williams is waiting for her in his office with a smile on his face. He’s a tall man, with thin facial features and wire glasses that box him perfectly into the intimidating professor stereotype. “Miss Stevenson, please sit,” he gestures to the chair across from him.

“Gerald,” she sighs, “You can call me Magdalene, I don’t mind. Besides, it makes you quite the hypocrite if you insist I call you by your first name but you won’t use mine.” There’s no malice in her voice, just a decent amount of teasing.

The older man scoffs but concedes. “I suppose you’re right. Well then Magdalene, tell me, how are your final edits coming along?”

Magdalene spends nearly twenty minutes detailing all the elements she has tweaked since their last meeting, from the title to the citation style. She’s out of breath by the time she’s done, rambling at an impressive speed, and takes a big gasp of air while the professor mulls over her words. Dr. Williams doesn’t say anything, causing Magdalene to shift anxiously in her seat. “Sir, is there something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing,” he beams, “Everything is perfect. It’s a shame you don’t want to continue researching. You’d make a fabulous academic.”

The compliment makes Magdalene’s heart soar. It means a lot, especially coming from the person who has seen her cry over the oxford comma. “Thank you sir, but I belong in the practical realm. Someone has to file all the documents you obsessively scan.”

She leaves the building soon after, promising to stop by after she drops off the final draft in a few weeks. It’s a bit later than she expected and hopes Bette won’t be mad. There’s nothing the blonde hates more than poor time management, but Magdalene prays she’ll understand. It wasn’t that long ago and Bette was scheduling her own appointments with advisors on how to graduate. Barn Owl Book Company is located halfway between the school and her apartment, making it the perfect spot to meet. In addition to being a used book store, Barn Owl sports one of the best cafés in downtown Denver. Bette is perched delicately at her friend’s favourite seat, a bay window converted into a small nook, and typing furiously on her phone.

“Sorry I’m late,” Magdalene apologizes, “Williams talked a lot more than I expected him to.”

Bette looks up and smiles, shoving a cup in the other girl’s direction. “As always. How is he?”

Sliding into the booth, Magdalene fills her friend in on what’s been going on in their former professor’s life. Bette graduated with a minor in Classics, and it was Magdalene's major, but the former decided not to further her education and is instead doing full time charity work for the Colorado Avalanche. Her boyfriend Tyson is one of their star players, and the two of them are so smitten it makes Magdalene sick. Conversation quickly turns from school to life, which she’s grateful for.

“So,” Bette says, “Are you in for the trip this summer? I’ve got to confirm the reservation in a week or something.”

“I don’t know Bee, I'm going to be the new girl. Asking for time off like two months into the job would be rude.”

“Linny,” the blonde whines, “Please? I want you to come.”

Magdalene scowls. Bette knows just how much the nickname sours her mood but she chose to use it anyway. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps with quite a bite. “Can someone else take my spot if I decide not to go a little closer to the date?”

“Of course! Gravy said he’d fill an extra spot if one comes up so we don’t lose the deposit,” Bette blabs before trying to switch gears entirely. Magdalene cuts her off.

“Who’s Gravy?”

If her friend is exasperated by Magdalene’s lack of knowledge surrounding hockey, she doesn’t show it. Bette calmly explains that Gravy, who’s real name is Ryan, is a defenceman with the Avalanche and a good friend of Tyson’s. She also makes a point of mentioning that he’s single, to which Magdalene rolls her eyes. Bette has a masterplan for her life – which includes her best friend becoming romantically involved with an Avalanche player so the two of them can live the better half life together. As the best friend, Magdalene is constantly barraged with potential players who are looking to date. Once she went on a few dates with Mikko, but that ended fairly quickly when the two realized they were better as friends. Every time since she’s turned Bette down as gently as possible, not wanting to get involved with anyone. Her life is just starting, and Magdalene wants to be secure before settling down.

The conversation eventually shifts to what Magdalene plans to wear for both her thesis defence and graduation. Bette is fashion savvy, while Magdalene is decidedly not. Her everyday wardrobe consists of collared button-downs and sweater vests, which is supposedly never going to back a comeback, according to Bette at least. The blonde eventually wears Magdalene down, and secures a position as stylist for the graduation ceremony. There was an attempt at the thesis defence, but the other girl insists she needs to be as comfortable as possible on such a stressful occasion.

A glance to the clock on the opposite wall has Magdalene stretching her arms and giving an apologetic glance to her friend on the other side of the table. “I should go,” she says. “I’ve got to put in some serious work on my citations today, and you know Caligula doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”

Bette rolls her eyes, but there isn’t any frustration behind the gesture. “I swear to god Mags, your cat has more separation anxiety than I do. Speaking of, I’m supposed to pick Tyson up at the airport and I’m running behind.”

“Tell him I say hi,” Magdalene says as she wraps her arms around Bette for a quick hug.

The two girls part ways on the sidewalk, with Magdalene heading back to campus and Bette sliding into the sleek Audi she shares with her boyfriend. Headphones find their way into her ears, and Magdalene listens to a random comedy podcast. Once tucked safely inside the library she’ll put on her favourite lo-fi playlist and concentrate, but for now she just enjoys the funny anecdotes of stories past.

It’s quiet in the library for a Tuesday, though Magdalene isn’t complaining. Her favourite table, the one she swears up and down is the only reason she ever gets anything done, is open, and she all but sprints to place her bag on the worn leather chair. While setting up her work station a few of the librarians come over to offer their congratulations for her upcoming job. News certainly travels fast around here, Magdalene thinks, but accepts their generosity with a smile on her face. They leave her alone soon enough and the tedious work of double checking the formatting of every single citation in the sixty-five page paper begins.

Hours pass, and Magdalene stays working in the library until as late as she possibly can. Caligula is going to start to worry about the length of her absence soon and his anxiety response of knocking over plants is not a mess she feels like cleaning up. She packs up her laptop and walks the short distance home as fast as possible.

“Little boots, I’m home,” Magdalene parrots in a sing-song voice as she slips her jacket off her shoulders and onto the hanger. At the sound of his nickname, the small cat bounds into the entryway. “Hi darling, did you miss me?” Magdalene gets an obnoxiously loud purr in response that she takes it as a yes. She reaches down to pick up the tiny animal before continuing further into the apartment, scratching behind his ears as she does so. The two of them settle into the respectably sized couch, where they stay for the rest of the night watching reruns of The West Wing before Magdalene falls asleep.

☼☼☼☼

“You fucking did it!” Bette shrieks as she bounds towards her best friend. Magdalene braces herself for the oncoming assault, and manages to keep them both upright after Bette jumps into her arms.

Her thesis defence had just finished, and the committee found Magdalene a worthy candidate for the Master of Information Science qualification. The presentation itself was open to the public, so Bette and Tyson sat in the front row to support Magdalene, but were escorted out for the conversation that followed. The two girls had developed a code so the news could be shared in a subtle way, though Bette threw the original plan out the window as soon as she saw her friend give a sneaky thumbs up when the conference room door opened.

“Congrats Mags,” Tyson says sincerely, doing his best not to add to the growing spectacle, but Magdalene can tell he wants to give her a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, “And thank you guys for coming. It means a lot.” As two of her closest friends, both Bette and Tyson know that her family situation is rocky at best, and having them act as her support system means more than she’ll ever be able to articulate.

The couple shares a knowing look before engulfing their friend in a hug. “We’re always going to be here for you,” Bette whispers, “No matter what.”

Magdalene’s smile is so genuine it crinkles her eyes as she wraps her arms around Bette and Tyson’s shoulders and leads them out the door and into the sunshine. The group continues to the parking lot, where they climb into Tyson’s car and drive off campus in the direction of Magdalene’s favourite restaurant. Though she had tried to convince her friends they didn’t need to celebrate, she failed, and Magdalene soon finds herself laughing hysterically over a plate of carbonara as Tyson tells a story about the shenanigans the team got up to on their last road trip.

There’s a game tonight, and Bette has somehow convinced her into attending. Magdalene knows she should go, expand her social horizons a little, but all she wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep for three weeks. Her one condition is that she can go home straight after the game without being guilted into following the group to whatever nightclub they’ll celebrate the win or drink away the loss in. Tyson has to get ready so he drops the two girls off at Magdalene's apartment complex. She’s in charge of getting Bette to the rink, and she’ll leave with her boyfriend after the game.

Once inside the confines of her home, Magdalene promptly lies on the floor. “Holy shit,” she sighs, “I did it. I fucking did it.”

“You did!” Bette says as she lies down beside her best friend. “I’m so fucking proud of you, and Tyson is too. Even if he won’t tackle you in public to prove it.”

The comment garners a laugh from Magdalene, which alerts Caligula to the presence of others in the apartment. He pads over the rug currently being occupied by two adults, and snuggles into the small space between them. Bette and Magdalene continue to lay there, petting the cat and looking back fondly on all the times Magdalene called her friend in tears because she didn’t think she could push herself any farther. Bette was always there to pick up the slack, editing whatever section Magdalene was working on or to bring over a hot meal. Her support earned her the top spot in the acknowledgements section of the thesis.

Ball Arena is already crawling with people when Magdalene pulls into the small lot for player’s and their families. Normally she parks with the general public, but Bette insists they watch this game from the better halves box, and these spaces are closer to that entrance.

“Stop dragging your feet,” the blonde chastises as Magdalene takes her time cutting the engine. “I want to get a glass of rosé before they sell out.”

Sighing, Magdalene follows her orders. “Don’t you have a special bar in the box?” she asks while locking the car.

“Yeah, but the other girls are absolute fiends. They’ll drink it all before we get there with no remorse.”

The girls climb the stairs to the better halves box, Bette chatting excitedly about the game, but Magdalene stops just before the entrance. She’s met most of the others on multiple occasions and has nothing to worry about, but she can’t help but feel anxious. Her life is so different than everyone else’s in the space, and it feels like cheating when she’s there because she isn’t romantically involved with anyone on the roster. Bette likes to joke that she’s her better half, but Magdalene knows it’s said just to calm her nerves.

“It’ll be fine,” Bette whispers while squeezing her hand, “And if you get too uncomfortable we can find some seats in the nosebleeds.”

Once inside Magdalene’s nerves dissipate. Most of the other wives and girlfriends pay her no mind, but the ones that are especially close to Bette congratulate her on passing her defence. It warms her heart a little, and the small group Magdalene finds herself in settles down to watch the game unfold.

It’s a fairly intense one between Colorado’s division rival St. Louis. Both teams are fighting for first place in the conference, and a win for the Avalanche would put them three points ahead of the Blues instead of one. Players from both sides are amped up, and more than once a scrum at the net has turned into a dog-pile. Colorado is outplaying the other team, but have still managed to find themselves a goal short heading into the final period. At the buzzer Tyson takes the face-off and is immediately shoved by a member of the opposite team. He goes down hard, and Bette squeezes Magdalene’s hand so tightly she fears it will lose blood flow. Silence falls over the arena as Tyson doesn’t immediately get up. The inside of lip finds its way between her teeth and Magdalene bites down hard, worried about her friend. She’s so focussed on Tyson that she doesn’t notice a fight breaking out.

“Holy shit, Gravy is going to town!”

The remark is made by someone Magdalene recognizes as Gabe Landeskog’s wife, and it makes her peel her eyes off of Bette’s worried features and scan the ice for some action. Sure enough, a very tall man is laying right hooks to someone who looks significantly smaller than him on the Avalanche blue line. The referees let the fight continue until Tyson drags himself off the ice and onto the bench before separating the men and throwing them in the penalty box. Magdalene can tell words are still being exchanged from both sides of the glass, but she’s more focussed on the fact Tyson doesn’t make his way to the dressing room – a good sign that allows Bette to drop her hand and let out a shaky breath.

Nothing of great importance happens until MacKinnon ties the game with seven minutes left. It happens while the Avalanche are short handed, and the goal seems to light a fire beneath the team. Magdalene may not know much about hockey, but she’s smart enough to notice the insane amount of energy all the players suddenly have. Time ticks by slowly and before she realizes it, the final face-off is taking place. Luckily it’s in the St. Louis zone and won by Colorado. The puck is tipped back to the same player who got in the fight for Tyson, Gravy, and he one times it right into the back of the net. The buzzer goes off not a second later, and the entire team piles on top of the player who just won them the game.

Bette and Magdalene join in the shrieks of the other partners, jumping from their seats in excitement. Eventually they make their way down to the hallway outside the locker room and lean against the brick while they wait for Tyson.

“You don’t have to stay,” Bette insists, “I can wait by myself.”

Magdalene shakes her head. “No way. I want to make sure he’s okay too. What good is a friend with a black eye?”

The other girl laughs at her friend’s stubbornness but doesn’t shoo her away. Once Magdalene has made a decision it’s hard to get her to sway from it, and Bette knows better than to push. Besides, who is she to deny her friend a bit more social interaction? Magdalene has spent the past six years practically holed up in the library and deserves to stand in a crowded hallway.

The friends chat idly while they wait, with Magdalene sharing some of the most ridiculous questions she got asked in her defence interview that morning. She’s mid story when Tyson exits the dressing flanked by a man dressed sharply in all black.

“Hey guys,” Tyson greets, dipping his head to place a kiss to Bette’s cheek before doing an elaborately goofy handshake with Magdalene.

“Good game baby,” Bette compliments sweetly. She then turns her attention to the boy standing awkwardly on the fringes. “You too Graves.”

He smiles shyly, muttering out a small thanks. It’s then he seems to notice the final member of the group, and offers his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Magdalene.”

She puts two and two together on the walk to her car. The Ryan Magdalene just met is the same who will take her spot on the trip, fought someone in Tyson’s defence, and scored the game winning goal. Though they’ve only said a few words, she likes him. He seems genuine, and those people are the rarest to find.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene is walking across a graduation stage for the final time in two days. However, she can’t find anyone to take the third ticket. The University of Denver has a stupid rule where all graduates must have three guests attend the ceremony. Bette and Tyson are obviously occupying two of Magdalene’s seats, but she’s having trouble filling the third.

“I can ask Tys if one of the guys is free,” Bette shrugs. The two girls are sitting in the window of Barn Owl drinking iced lattes and discussing what Magdalene should wear to the ceremony.

“It’s okay,” Magdalene says, “I don’t want to bother anyone. Maybe I’ll just ask June.”

Her friend’s eye roll so far back into her head Magdalene isn’t sure they won’t stay there. “You can’t ask your boss to watch you graduate Mags! Besides, Gravy owes Tyson a favour and was already looking for something to do. I’m sure he won’t mind wasting a few hours as long as he gets drinks out of it.”

There isn’t a better option, so even though she barely knows the guy, Magdalene agrees. “Make sure he gets this?" she sighs, handing her friend an envelope with a single ticket in it. "I have to go. Caligula should be done at the vet soon.”

“Say hello to little boots for me,” Bette giggles as she waves goodbye.

Hours later, tucked into her couch with a glass of wine in one hand and Caligula playing with the fingers on the other, Magdalene realizes she invited a complete stranger to her graduation and how that could be a terrible idea. Sure, Ryan sounds like a great guy from the way Bette and Tyson talk about him, but he’s only ever spoken three words to her. Since that game she’s gone out with the team a few times, but the man with the piercing stare is yet to make an appearance. Magdalene considers that perhaps he’s more like her than his profession gives him credit for, and she feels a twinge of guilt about being worried he’d cause a scene at the ceremony.

There isn’t any more time for her to fret over the third and final guest on the list. At the last minute Bette decides there’s nothing in Magdalene’s closet that’s suitable for her to wear, so a trip to a local second-hand store ensues. While it’s nice that her friend has taken their carbon footprints into consideration, Magdalene wishes it didn’t have to happen an hour and a half before the ceremony is supposed to start.

“We have to be there in twenty minutes Bette,” she frets, tapping her foot nervously against the tile flooring.

If they can’t find whatever it is Bette’s looking for, Magdalene will have to walk across the stage in denim cutoffs and a faded t-shirt with Neil Young’s face on it, which is something she’s hoping to avoid at all costs.

“Have no fear, Mags,” she says with a knowing glint in her eye, “For I have found it.” Bette holds up a hanger that is holding a beautiful long sleeve dress adorned with a whimsical floral print.

Magdalene can’t help the gasp that escapes from her. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, “But let’s hope it fits.”

The dress does in fact fit, and the workers are kind enough to let her wear it out of the store. Bette drives at a speed that might not be the safest to travel at in downtown Denver, but she gets to the school with minutes to spare. She shoos her friends out of the car so she can go pick up Tyson and Ryan, and Magdalene checks in with little hassle. The pool of graduates is fairly small, so she chats with a few classmates while they wait for the call to put their gowns on. Time passes quicker than expected, and soon Magdalene is being directed to her seat. She zones out while the dean gives a congratulatory speech and they go through the first few names. At one point she looks backwards into the crowd to find Bette, Tyson, and Ryan all giving her a thumbs up. The nerves she didn’t even know she had settle.

A faculty member signals for Magdalene’s row to stand up, and she smoothes her dress before dutifully following the person in front of her. Giddiness bubbles in her stomach at the thought of being done school forever. A hand from the stage crew give a cue, and Magdalene appears on the stage as her accomplishment is broadcast through the microphone.

“Magdalene Stevenson is being awarded a Masters in Information Science in Archival Studies and Records Management.” It feels so good to finally be finished that she lets a tear slip as she shakes the hand of the staff member handing her the package with her diploma in it.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur, and before Magdalene knows it her friends are approaching to congratulate her. Bette and Tyson wrap her in a tight hug, murmuring praise in her ears. Ryan stands awkwardly to the side before Bette drags him into the celebration. The four of them stand in the courtyard where the ceremony was for much longer than needed. Bette is crying enough to refill Sloan Lake if there is ever a drought and is yet to let go of Magdalene’s figure.

It’s only when the event staff ask them to leave so they can tear down the stage does Magdalene turn to leave campus for the last time as a student. She’ll be back in a few weeks as an employee, but deep down she knows this is the last time she’ll ever feel such a deep connection to the place.

“Victory is mine, victory is mine! Great day in the morning people, victory is mine!” Magdalene yells, quoting Josh Lyman as she skips down the path towards Bette’s car.

Both Bette and Tyson are confused at the sudden outburst, not knowing what she’s talking about, but Ryan responds without missing a beat. “Should I bring you all the muffins and bagels in the land?” His response doesn’t clear anything up, but it elicits a giant smile from Magdalene, who laughs and nods in confirmation.

Sitting in the back of Bette’s Audi, on the way to a graduation party she’s supposed to know nothing about, Magdalene decides that she wants to get to know Ryan Graves better. From what she’s garnered from Bette and Tyson he’s a class act, standing up for friends and giving good advice. He likes The West Wing and showed up to a stranger’s graduation, so how bad can he be?

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: see what magdalene's graduation dress looks like here // the quote from the west wing is from 1.02 if you were curious!

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy (add yourself to the taglist!)

#ryan graves imagine #ryan graves x oc #ryan graves fic #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #dmtteol

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writingforevren · 3 years ago

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Hello people of the internet so I had a couple posts wondering if people would be interested in some of my random drafts and character ships and got some positive responses. I believe it was @apocalypsewriters who commented on my post and thanks for that because I honestly don’t know if I’d be posting this without that.

So~ I decided to share some writing on a ship I have Rory & Clyde, They’re both teachers at basically a magical university. Rory has just recently gotten the job and Clyde has worked there for a few years. Me and my friend came up with the school and everything about it as well as a whole magic system but I’m not gonna get into that now, however if you wanna know more about it you can drop questions in my ask box. This is about Rory & Clyde first meeting, I hope you enjoy :)

A left, then a right, and another left? Did he already go that way? how many rights was he supposed to take again?... Was it two or three? He felt like he'd been walking forever through the halls, like the walls themselves were moving. Rory, get your head together, he told himself. His office had to be close, it had to. He looked at the paper that he wrote the number on again but it had gotten smudged "Bloody hell can't I just get one thing right?" He wanted to cry, getting a new job was always stressful but especially so when you got lost for nearly an hour and were supposed to start working.

"It has to be here" He looked up and caught sight of a door. Rory let out a sigh of relief, this had to be right, it felt right like something drew him towards the door. He reached out and turned the doorknob, surprisingly, it was unlocked. Wasn't he supposed to use a key? He glanced up and to his surprise there was a man sitting at the desk across the room. He just stood frozen for a moment, he was suddenly ten times more nervous. "hey" he mouthed though no words came out.

"Who are you?... and what are you doing here?" The man spoke sharply as he turned his attention upwards, the lights reflecting off his glasses.

Oh god he'd done something wrong hadn't he... "I'm so so sorry I'll- I'll just go" Rory stammered and reached back behind him to grab the door knob, not realizing that when he'd moved, he had accidentally knocked something off the wall. "Shit" He swore as he heard the sound of shattered glass, he was making a terrible impression, oh no he couldn't fail on his first day of work "I'm so sorry I'll clean it up" He was too stressed he couldn't use his magic to fix it, this was even worse then he’d ever imagined.

"Calm down" He watched the man wave a hand causing the shattered picture frame to repair itself and hang back on the wall like nothing happened.

Rory took a deep breath and met the eyes of a significantly shorter man, he seemed so much more intimidating when he was sitting. "Sorry I uh- I thought this was my office, I've been looking all day and I feel like I don't know where anything is, I'm new here I just got a job and- And it's just been a really stressful day and I'm really sorry for interrupting you.” He quickly apologized.

"I see, so it's your first day?" He watched as the brown haired man walked closer and brushed off Rory’s shoulder, perhaps there was some glass that hadn’t gotten cleaned up. He felt his eyes on him and it was almost as if he was examining him- he assumed it was to see if he was fit to work there.

Rory averted his eyes and steadied his breathing, fully aware of his racing heart. He took a moment before replying "Yeah, yeah I'm Rory I Uh- I'm the new charms teacher and I seem to have lost my sense of direction."

"Mm..." The pause left him unsettled like there were definitely words that needed to be said yet instead there was silence. "Clyde, Nice to meet you." Clyde... Cute name, classic in a way. Wait... cute? Now that he thought about it Clyde was definitely attractive, he had this sort of profound energy about him, while the words he spoke were soft and direct there was something more to be desired.

"Yeah totally-" Rory smiled and took Clyde's hand in his own, it was soft... and warm, he kinda liked holding it even if it was brief, well maybe not as brief as he'd thought. Their eyes met for a moment and Rory retracted his hand from Clyde's. He felt strange- like maybe the intense beating of his heart was no longer from anxiety but perhaps from the man in front of him.

Clyde waved a hand and the pile of paper's Rory had dropped flew back into his arms. "You're welcome" there was a hint of a smile as he said that. Is he flirting? Rory immediately found his mind rushing to the conclusion. The prolonged touch, the eye contact, the helpfulness- He was totally flirting, He felt almost giddy inside at the thought but no it was his first day of work and he had to stay professional.

He swallowed a lump in his throat before speaking again "D-do you think you could help me find my office?" Clyde was already back, leaning over his desk and organizing the papers that were stacked on it, probably grading assignments, Rory assumed.

"I have things to-" He looked back and his narrow eyes latched onto Rory's pleading look for a moment before he sighed and said "fine I'll help you." Clyde gently grabbed him by the arm and led him out of his office. "Do you know if it's the same office as our previous Charms Teacher?"

"I think so..." Rory replied but in all honesty he had no idea, the paper he previously had had been dropped a while ago.

"Okay" Clyde held his arm, Rory quite liked having someone there to keep him from getting lost as he often did.

"Thank you a lot for your help" Rory said, he was genuinely very happy and thankful that he didn't turn out to be one of the super strict arsehole teachers, he actually seemed quite nice.

"Don't mention it.” He replied softly before pushing open a door to a cozy little office that looked like it could've been decorated by someone's grandma. "Here you are, She didn't exactly pack up but the headmaster let's you change it however you please."

Rory looked around at the room, awestruck, his very own office, his own place that he could do whatever he wanted with. "It's amazing." He grinned.

He heard Clyde say something softly under his breath but couldn't quite make it out. He took the box of things out of Rory's hand and sat it down on the still cluttered desk. "Do you need help with anything else? I mean I don't have much work to do so I could help with whatever you desire me to first." He leaned up against the desk.

Rory found himself staring perhaps a bit too long at the slim figure of the man in a blazer. His face was so sweet yet his dark eyes were intense as they glazed over him. He was- Rory couldn't think of the right word but 'pretty' seemed to sum it up for now. And if he wasn't mistaken the attraction was mutual. Rory felt his heart in his chest at that thought, perhaps once they got to know each other better he'd ask him out for a coffee. That sounded nice.

"Oh- well I'm okay for now I mean you did say you had to work." Rory replied, in all honesty he wasn't sure how much more his heart could take, that day had been a whirlwind of emotions and what he really desired was to just relax in his new chair and have a cup of his favorite tea.

"I'll be fine for a bit, plus I needed a break." Clyde had begun to pull things out of Rory's box. And Rory looked up at the dusty bookshelves that were packed full of books, half of which weren't even in English.

"D'you have a place where I can put all the things I don't need in here anymore?" Rory asked as he pulled out a book on cross-stitching.

"You can just put them in the room next door." He gestured to the left.

"What's in the room next door?..." Rory was somehow scared to know the answer but it turns out it was much less alarming than he originally thought.

"Alfie got his office taken away for- reasons- and now we just use it as a storage closet."

"Oh- what'd he do?" Rory asked as he began tossing things he didn't need into a box that he would later take to the 'storage room'

"Had too many ‘guests’” As he said the word Rory immediately understood what he meant, so the theatre teacher found his way around.

“Oh okay- well don’t you have work to do? I can handle this” Rory picked up another stack of weird books the previous charms teacher had kept.

“Mm actually yes there are a few things for me to do~ but it was nice meeting you.” He had a faint smile and Rory found his mind going to the conclusion of flirtation almost immediately once again.

“Yeah.” He smiled as the man left, he felt this warm fuzziness inside him that he found hard to describe, perhaps it was just the spell he’d used earlier to calm his anxiety.

Thanks for reading! Lemme know what else you wanna see from me. Honestly I love these boys and their dynamic is basically cat and dog which you can’t really go wrong with.

General Writing Taglist (ask to be +/-) - @weirdfishy @wannabeauthorzofija @annlillyjose @radiomacbeth @opes-magnas @l-g-h3ron

#writing #original writing #creative writing #writeblr #oc: rory allemond #oc: clyde albright #lgbtq+#fiction

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stormxpadme · 2 years ago

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1, 5, 11, 16, 21, 26, 27, 32, 34, 37 god i hope i wrote the numbers right im on mobile. also full disclosure idr scheduling this so it was fun figuring out whats happening. my answers coming as soon as the laptop awakens, till then, tell me everything 😍💖💖💖💖

Weird Questions for Writers

1 - What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

I’m a Bookman old style girl indeed. As my followers know at this point, I’m a dinosaur aka proud Xennial, generation analogue to digital, from typewriter to cloud. So I went from the first Word programs to what we have now and also had my first office jobs when the whole PC thing was still in its first stages. Everyone especially in business life used Times and Arial and Verdana back then, and honestly, I was just really bored by those. So when I got on my own PC and started transcribing my fanfics from handwritten to electronic, I chose something that was still easy to read but didn’t look like work. And that stuck. I even use that font in my work life whenever I can get away with it. I just really love Bookman old style.

5 - Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

I don’t think so? Though if it counts, I’ve encountered prophetic writing with my stuff before and that can be pretty creepy. Like, in an entirely non religious way, of course, because I’m agnostic, but like ... visions put in writing. Stuff of my stories that came true weirdly specific in one shape or another later. So there’s that.

11 - Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

Nah, I have a very hard time killing my protagonists. So if it happens at all, you can be sure I’ll find a way to bring them back at some point. At that point when I do kill them off tho, I cry. Like, a lot.

16 - What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

Nothing strange, I think, I was just one of those sinners as a kid using dog-ears.

21 - Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

Nope, not gonna happen. This is the thing that keeps me alive, and I don’t have any suicidal tendencies these days.

26 - How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

A lot, I think, with faceclaims when it comes to my own characters. Watching the material I got of the actors in questions, doing moodboards, videos, stuff like that. It was very inspiring for many scenes in the past. Then there’s the good old impersonating them in your head in calm moments like under the shower or when brushing your teeth, playing random scenarios in your head, contemplating how they will react. But in the end, a lot of characterizing only comes when I actually write them.

27 - Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

I’ve got a lot of anxiety about my current first trans character, especially since the canon faceclaim is no other than Elliot Page. So I’m just really terrified I’ll fuck this whole thing up because it is not my personal corner of queer so I can’t write from experience.

32 - What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

I’m more prone to movie lines than book quotes tbh, and poetry is not my world. I can cheat here though, since movie is based on a book, so Imma go with PS, I love you here.

“You made my life. But I'm just one chapter in yours.“

I’ve used that sentiment two times myself, in the two longest fanfiction projects I made, one of which I’m working on right now, and it’s breaking me every time.

And from the same movie (there’s reasons I can’t sit through this without crying):

“Thing to remember is if we're all alone, then we're all together in that too.“

Also something I used before in stories, and a thought that sometimes help.

34 - Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

I hate it with the passion of a thousand suns since it has no place in German, and if grammarly wouldn’t do it for me, I would never use it.

37 - If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

Hopeless romantic as long as there’s enough torture involved.

#stormys fanfics #effervescentdragon #sometimes stormy gets asked things #i have the loveliest friends #love you <3

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kenmei · 4 years ago

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-ˏˋ CONFESS YOUR LOVE COMMITTEE! ˊˎ-

♡ gn!reader x oikawa tooru

cw: fluff, romance, slice of life, denial, highschool!au

synopsis: in which it’s you versus the love letter you wrote

wc: 1500+

notes from mei!

title inspo from the moment you fall in love

your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. another day of watching girls hang off his arms as you tuck the small envelope into your school blazer, telling yourself that tomorrow, will be your day for sure.

tomorrow comes, again and again, but you find that each tomorrow you experience, isn’t your day.

“you still have that envelope?” matsukawa laughs, plucking the rectangle out of your hands. it’s a bit creased now, the corners of the envelope folded as the sticker holding it closed, pops off every now and then.

you grumble, snatching it back (which creases it more, but you can’t find it in you to care), “it’s none of your business.”

on accident, matsukawa caught you writing the love letter a month back, when he stormed into your room unannounced.

you remember him laughing at you, then consoling you because he accidentally made you cry. (technically, his teasing confirmed your denial, which was the final breaking point. you remember breaking out into sobs like a child who was told no, as issei did his best to calm you down).

“just give it to him.” he says, as if it’s the easiest, most simple thing in the world.

you repeat his words, mocking him (somewhat) playfully. issei looks at you, unamused as he ties his shoes. “i don’t think oikawa like brats.”

you flush, sputtering. “what?!”

he laughs, standing up and patting your head as if you’re a child as he walks past you. “what? i didn’t say anything.”

“you’re an asshole.” you say, and he shrugs, opening the door and leaving you in the clubroom by yourself.

you sigh, looking at the letter in your hands.

stupid oikawa. you’re so stupid you make my brain hurt.

(it’s ironic you think that, since his average in all your shared classes are always five percent higher than yours).

at this point, it’s not even the feelings that bother you, it’s the fact you physically can’t give him the letter.

no matter the amount of times you practice in your room—with matsukawa (and makki as your cheerleader), you can’t shake the feeling of sheer nervousness the second you’re holding the letter in plain sight, with oikawa in your field of vision.

(because if you can see him, he definitely can see you).

“i’m gonna burn this stupid letter.” you say to no one in particular, but when you’re holding the lighter you suddenly think that burning it isn’t that good of an idea.

burying it is an option. so is flushing it down the toilet, mailing it to some random address outside the country, or just simply putting in the paper shredder that sits your dad’s home office.

but as many ideas you make to deal with the letter, you can’t find one that satisfies you besides placing it in the calloused hands of the seijoh volleyball captain himself.

“oh my god.” issei says, seeing the letter on your desk. “why do you still have that.”

“i don’t wanna hear it.” you dismiss, waving your hand.

“—elementary schoolers do this better than you.”

“i said i didn’t wanna hear it!” you exclaim, pouting. “it’s a work in progress!”

issei’s brow arches, nodding skeptically. “at this point, i’ll even offer to give it to him for you.”

your head whips back. “no! i can do it—i’ll do it.”

he hums, nodding and clearly not believing you. you scowl, snatching the worn out envelope and glaring at it. issei’s not sure as to why you’re angry at a piece of paper, but you’ve always been a little weird so he doesn’t question it.

“what am i supposed to do if he doesn’t want it?” you mumble, mindlessly spinning the paper on your desk.

he plops onto your bed, shrugging off his jacket. “he’ll take it. that bastard eats shit like that up.”

“attention whore.” you say.

issei agrees.

(you think you might be cursed.

the letter looks at you from its position in your school bag, taunting you.

another day where the letter still doesn’t make it into his hands. but you don’t mind so much anymore.

it’s the day before graduation. you’ve had the letter for over five months. excessive, you think, but smile. but that’s okay.

it’s okay because you hear a familiar voice call your name. it’s okay because your feelings feel somewhat resolved. it’s okay because you’re longer stressing about giving him the letter.

it’s okay because your hand is in his.

“tooru.” you smile, letting him swing your hands back and forth.

maybe you’re not so cursed.

he looks at you from the corner of his eye, the corners of his lips tugging upward. “yes, y/n-chan?”

there’s that lilt to his voice you love so much. you think you’re pretty damn lucky).

“wake up, you airhead.” jolting awake, you sit up, catching matsukawa looking down at you amusedly.

“not you muttering that bastard’s name in your sleep.” makki teases, sitting backwards on the chair in front of you. “you’re down bad.”

your cheeks heat up and you hide your face in your arms, shaking your head in denial. a part of you, however, wishes these asses didn’t wake you up.

“hey, mattsun, i think y/n’s dream was spicy.” the boy laughs, poking fun at you. issei chuckles, shaking his head.

you, however, shoot up, about to flip him off until you see the teachers roaming the hallways. so instead, you mumble. “fuck you, makki. my dream was very much wholesome.”

“yeah, okay.”

“it was!” you defend, straightening out before you slump onto your desk again.

it’s quiet for a few moments, before a familiar voice fills your ears.

“hey, what are you guys doing here—oh, hello, l/n-chan!” oikawa swings into your classroom, smiling as his hands latch on the top of the doorway, swinging back and forth on his feet.

you wave at him, trying to keep yourself contained. makki rolls his eyes at this and you kick his shin.

the four of you talk for a bit, before iwaizumi comes in and tells The Boyz to get to practice. you wave them bye, watching as they exit the classroom.

and then it’s just you. the silence is strange after those ten minutes of small talk and laughter.

your heartbeat is irregular. you remember the ten seconds of eye contact before you had to pull away because it was getting too much.

kind of embarrassing, you think, remembering how much you stuttered when replying to him. or when your voice unintentionally grew higher in pitch (you defend that it’s because you got excited).

you lean back in your seat, grinning like a person who’s in love.

(you are, mattsun would argue, but you like the word infatuated better).

you look at your school bag, hung on the side of your desk. you remember that the letter is still sitting inside.

a sigh leaves your lips. perhaps it’ll never make it into the volleyball captain’s hands, but tomorrow’s another day.

maybe then, when the after-school sun makes him glow a little differently, that busted up white envelope will finally take it’s rightful place in his palms.

maybe tomorrow will finally be your day.

xtra notes from mei!

not properly edited. might edit tmr... who knows :’)

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu tooru #oikawa imagine #oikawa fluff #tooru x reader #oikawa #seijoh #aoba johsai

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