#my questions were valid but for some reason could not be answered until the third person that i talked to?????

[fairy-ganj-mother]

why are all the veterinarians and vet techs in my life some of the best people but then I can't find a vet office that doesn't totally piss me off for my cat🥲

[dairy-farmer]

Damian and Jon stealing away everyone’s favorite sex toy Tim and making him a real boy and part of a loving relationship is everything I needed

Like Tim obviously going along with it because he feels loved even if it only ever to just be used and discarded until needed again. Tim has been objectified and no longer seen as truly someone to be in relationship with but rather a toy

Like I could see it being very angsty. Tim feeling used but seeing it as the only way to get validation and feeling loved and so never saying no because it means he is wanted. But then in comes Damian and Jon at first Tim thinks it like every other time until they don’t just want sex they want Tim to spend time with them and become their partner.

It would be confusing for a time until they break Tim’s walls and he starts to believe when they mean it and it’s no longer sex is love. I don’t think he would ever go back to being a sex doll and would join them as a third because they make him feel human and loved.

Damian and Jon being possessive and fully blocking anyone from seeing or interacting with Tim as he is now only theirs is also chefs kiss.

P.S. that little fact that people would come to Damian and Jon and ask for them to lend them just one night with Tim truly shows they really have to no regard for Tim’s autonomy

🥺🥺🥺🥺 jonathon and damian truly loving tim, seeing him as a person and wanting more than just his body.

(sorry for the late reply! i usually try to answer asks in the order i get them but something weird is going on with my inbox where some questions show up only on my mobile inbox and not on my desktop so i think i missed it!)

tim is so used to being just an object, a thing to be used. after all that’s what he was for bruce when he came into his life!

this is just a derivative of that! he’s helping people, he’s providing a service when he lets them fuck him! and they thank him for it, they stroke his body and praise him for a job well done before dropping him back off at his apartment with smiles and whispered promises that they’d call him again.

but....it was different with damian and jonathon.

they were...sweet with tim. kind and tender. they wanted to know about tim, they wanted to talk with him about what he liked what he didn’t.

which was unusual because most of the time people were interested in his mouth for only one reason.

sex with damian and jon is strange. the two of them share tim. not that others don’t as well but the two of them share tim.

they take turns kissing him, stroking his hair, and intertwining their fingers with him. they’ll whisper soft words of adoration to him as the other goes down on tim and licks into his slick folds until he’s wet enough to slide in.

it’s strange being acknowledged. usually the focus is on trying to be what someone wants him to be. but he can’t do that with jonathon or damian.

because they keep leaning over, whispering to tim, asking him if this feels good if he wants it like this, if he wants it harder, faster, slower, kinder.

tim’s unsure the first few times. after awhile he starts telling them that he wants what they seem to but they shake their heads.

“no, beloved” damian tells him softly, “i want you to tell me what you want.”

it’s...nice. it feels good and tim...likes it.

he likes the attention and the soft kisses. he likes how kind jonathon and damian are to him. how they ask him to stay in bed with them after they’re finished how they make him breakfast and kiss him softly. he likes how they send him messages asking about his day, whether he’d like to have dinner with them.

it’s a change of pace from the requests for pictures of his pussy or his tits that he gets from other couples.

tim finds himself putting off requests for his time more and more, focused on damian and jon when they ask if he’d like to join them or come along some place for them to spend time together.

tim doesn’t register it. not until he realizes that he spends more time in their apartment than his own, that he’s greeting them both at the door with a kiss, and that he very much likes being held as he nods off in their arms.

at some point tim no longer receives messages from others and tim chooses to turn his head and pretend like he doesn’t see damian in the corner with his phone and furiously texting someone.

tim is hardly ever alone when he ventures out of their apartment. damian picks him from work where he levels a glare at bruce who was trying to invite him back to the manor for a weekend. jonathon is a normally sweet and kind boy but even his smile is tense when he flies to pick up tim from titan’s tower. he also stands firmly between tim and his father when heroes are gathered and superman is making his usual round of greeting others.

clark’s smile that looks so much like jon’s always falters at the intensity on his son’s expression.

tim notes how tense everyone is, he can feel how their eyes linger on him.

but tim never pays attention for long, always swept up into the arms of his lovers who ask him how his day has been and if he’d like to go to that one restaurant with that serves his favorite dish.

he might hear some murmurs going on behind him but he never turns to learn what they are, he’s too preoccupied- too focused on kissing back and curling into the gentle hands running through his hair.

this is good. this is nice.

[ncitygirls]

only - changbin x f reader

angst, fluff, suggestive, royal!au, cw: war, 5.3k

you were barely eighteen when you accepted the hand in marriage of the son of the duke and duchess of levanter. seo changbin - an affluent heir to an impossible fortune - almost had you surprised when you found his interest in you was unlike that of your fellow bachelorettes. naturally, their interest was fuelled by an insatiable greed and a hot desire for financial prosperity. as should yours, as was yours. not changbin though. no, changbin prided himself on many things unfitting for a man of his status, even his age. he wondered not of your family’s alliances or existing trading partners, but of religion and upbringing. he tsked at mention of your international estates, unless in regard to your memories there. he was complimentary of your attire, less in expense but rather in beauty. changbin wanted to know of your favourite season, and your preferred time of day. who was your favourite poet, and from them your favourite poem. he was obsessed with your knowledge of the world, or rather your interest in it. you had been to neo, but did you really see it, really explore? and if not would you care to? did you prefer sugar or honey in your tea? your bread buttered or oiled? to sleep bare or in silk? he wanted to know what side of the bed you preferred to sleep on, if you were adverse to cuddling and if so, if you could be persuaded.

to be fair, he only spoke with you like this for two reasons. the first being your shared upbringing. after almost two decades of friendship, having you enter his home in the prospect of being his wife didn’t come as a surprise to the young bachelor, but rather a relief. he spent days in and days out discussing family politics, ancestry, and accounts. he chose to ignore the blatant issue there, sharing the intricacies of his family’s wealth and heritage with these ladies from kingdoms and countries he’d been too busy to pay any mind in schooling. he knew his ignorance could come back to bite him and it did, especially as you entered his home looking far prettier than he had ever recalled you looking. he held his tongue before he could whistle, but you could see his smirk all the same. it softened into a grin as he bowed, you returning the pleasantry with a lot less pleasantness than he offered you. he welcomed it all the same. it was why he could be free on this day. speak about the things that would effect you two as one another’s, not you two as one.

your presence also meant he didn’t have to pussyfoot around. he didn’t have to fear your hatred, nor your judgement. though your eyes rolled more than the actual number of potential brides he had become acquainted with. he let f bombs slip, and his guard down. he frolicked with you through the grounds you already knew so well, and guided you through the parts once forbidden to the rambunctious children you once were. he walked you to the kitchen and asked for bread, as opposed to stealing it like you both once would. he tried to describe the estate’s chambers as best he could, detailing the art a then prince hyunjin had gifted him and your childish scratchings still on his door frame.

‘you can see it one day,’ he had whispered under the willow tree on the grounds, watching the way your fingers clung loosely to the weeping leaves. ‘it’s still as it was when we were children.’

‘and how would i do that?’ the question is valid enough, though he frowns, tilting his head. ‘i did not realise i had uttered a riddle, my lord.’

‘well neither had i,’ he tutted, moving to latch onto the same branch you once held. ‘and here i was, assuming you to be the smart one.’

‘i am the smart one.’

‘then answer me this,’ he began, pausing to firmly elaborate, ‘plainly.’ your eyes roll for the umpteenth time at his silent warning before you concede with a nod. ‘how might you see my bed?’

with a sigh you deadpan, ‘if you were to make me your wife.’

‘so to see my bed, and your vandalism-’

‘scribbles.’

‘i must make you my wife.’

‘it seems quite the extreme just to see some old scribbles.’ if changbin senses the hidden meaning to your words, he gave nought away. ‘mightn’t someone just bring me a piece of the bed? i’m sure it’s almost past its use, just peel the pane off. and why still the same bed? you are a young lord of age now, don’t you think-’

‘you know you prattle when you’re nervous?’

‘i do no such thing-’

‘it’s cute.’

‘changbin! how are you so sure i want to be your wife, hm?’ you half questioned, moving away from his looming figure. ‘i only came because your parents asked me here.’

‘y/n, i have known you a long time,’ he punctuates his reminder by closing the distance you so bravely placed between you. ‘if you wished not to be here, you would have found no greater pleasure than to decline the invitation.’ that much is not only true but undeniable. the seo’s was your third courting invite this month alone. you knew, and worse, changbin knew. ‘is it so hard to admit that i might have soften that hardened heart of yours?’

‘i find no pleasure in your games, changbin.’

‘what game, y/n? can a man not just want you?’ your eyes betray you as you try to expel the softness conjured by his taunt. a taunt that is starting to sound less like a taunt, and more like a confession. ‘can i not just want you?’

‘how do i know you want me, bin?’ you pressed, pressing your back to the leaning trunk of the all encompassing tree. ‘how do i know you don’t just want a way out of this endless cycle of mindless heiresses?’

‘you said my parents asked you here?’ your head bobbed as he approached you, nodding in time with you before he stopped a foot before you, smiling eyes gazing right at you. ‘who do you think asked them?’

you were married that fall. under that same willow tree, in the presence of his royal highness and his kin, your family and the seos. the affair was small like you both wanted. small like your needs. you joked marrying you was a cop out, as he spun you around the gardens, escaping the intimate celebrations in the grand banquet hall to enjoy the breeze on your skin and feel the wind in your hair. it was the first time he held you since your dance lessons as kids. where you would lead and he would follow. he once swore he would follow you anywhere. both literally and figuratively. around the grounds of your childhood home, in all your beliefs and ideologies. he filled his mind and self with your gospel and truth, infatuated with your manner of thinking, how you arrived at conclusions. changbin spent his whole childhood falling in love with you.

‘you weren’t a cop out,’ he breathed into the shell of your ear, humming as you lay your head on his shoulder. pressing his lips to your temple he confessed, ‘you were my only choice.’

that night, the two of you consummated your marriage under that same willow tree. his hands clinging to your waist as he ground his hips into you. his tightened breaths filling the drum of your ear with every snap, his lips closing around the skin of your jaw, summoning the most satisfying whines he could draw from you. his lover. his friend. his lady.

in his absence, you remind him of this night. how biting the bark had been on your skin, the autumn air stinging your already teary eyes. his last letter arrived over a fortnight ago, it spoke of his fears at battle, the treacherous methods of his enemies. the only face he prays to see again and until that day, the only face he will dream of. you have sent a handful of letters since then, yet still sour as you awake another day to no news. you sigh as you grab your quill, letting the ink drip before signing off your letter.

‘my dearest, changbin. a season separates us, but only a season could.’

it isn’t long after you seal it that you are summoned to the hwang holiday estate. the royal family have a long history of retreating to the country when the weather is a touch higher than that of luke warm water, or near cool cinder. the seo’s residence is but a short carriage ride from the estate, though a tad longer walk. you often opt to walk as you do today, taking no larger than foot long strides between the cobbled paths. your guard walks in time with you, though no more than a few feet behind. he had never been one for small talk, you quickly came to realise. though, since neither is your husband, you feel an odd sense of relief, normality, even in his absence. you try and enjoy the song of the breeze through the willow, the scent of the king’s rose garden carried on its back. it’s hard over the creak of your guard’s hurried stomps, his pace doubling with every corner you take. you only verbalise your awareness of his impatience when he arrives beside you, hastened to strike the door to announce your arrival.

“master yang,” you call softly as you two await entry. “if i did not know any better, i would say you were rushing me.”

“apologies, my lady,” he confesses, stepping back at your side without any question. though, when he gulps, you eye him with a softened concern. “i was informed you were summoned due to a grave emergency.”

“worry not, jeongin.” you chide, recalling your highness’ idea of an emergency. “the king often calls when the queen is away and he is tasked with matters such as assigning dinner seating.” jeongin looks as if he is about to ask when you add, “she says his involvement humbles him.” when he nods, you straighten as the door swings open, a servant welcoming you in. “yes, there is nothing to fear, master yang.”

only, falser words had never been spoken.

you are quick to note the tremor in the king’s frame as he hurries to stand upon your arrival, rushing you through the official pleasantries of an official summoning. “lady seo.”

“your highness.” you reply, your knee bending as you politely lower your head. “how are you on this fine afternoon-”

“i apologise, y/n. but as you know, i didn’t call you hear on matters of leisure.” he politely interrupts, a flush of embarrassment flooding his cheeks as you frown. “when was last you heard from him?”

“heard from who?”

“from—” hyunjin’s confused gaze cuts to his informants, a few members of his court shying away from him before he marvels at them. “has lady seo not been informed?” when he receives no reply, you feel yourself shrink as the gentle king bellows, “why has lady seo not been informed?”

“informed of what—”

“the order of information begins with yourself sire, before reaching the court, the council, the lady and then the people.”

“i specifically requested she be kept informed. why has she not been kept informed?”

“well, your grace, the lady of a knight is only to be informed once official word is received from the battlefield and delivered to you sire.”

“official word of what—”

“which came through this morning and you are about to deliver the information to the lady.”

“king hyunjin!”

gasps fill the room from all but the king himself. he doesn’t falter, instead he turns to move towards you, his eyes growing more fearful, more earnest as he approaches. he shudders at the thought of delivering this message. he even scolds himself for attempting to delegate such responsibility. you are a friend. not only to the crown, but to the royal family itself. before heavy crowns kissed their heads. before rings ever kissed your knuckles. you were his friend. you had always been a friend to him, and the only time you had ever needed him was now and he had let you down.

“we received word that neo soldiers stormed our fortress in miroh. while we have received word from a few troops who were able to escape, we have yet to ascertain who of the full fleet have made it to safety.” when he pauses to gulp he sees your eyes gleam, breaths shallow. his hands then find yours, gripping your shaky, sweaty digits tightly. “we have received no word from changbin’s troop,” he stops when you gasp, your tears falling, cascading down and around your stained cheeks, your lip trembling. “but we have been able to track a number of our men back through the yellow wood, south of levanter.”

“i-is he there? is he okay?”

“we are yet to hear word,” the tears continue to fall, and he hates himself but all he can do is continue, divulge everything he knows. “they plan to set up camp on the edge of the wood, so i will make my way there now and have word sent back to you as soon as i find him.”

“no,” you refuse, snatching your hands away to drag them over your stained cheeks. “i cannot wait, i will join you.”

“as will i,” jeongin pipes up behind you, his voice an odd comfort once more. “your grace.”

“it is no place for a lady,” hyunjin tries, sighing when you just scowl, already mid curtsey as you preempt his agreement and dismissal. “i will have a carriage sent for you at once.”

“would taking just a horse quicken my arrival?”

“i-it would,” he discloses reluctantly, watching you ready yourself to decline the carriage. “for my sake though,” your scowl returns, ignoring the concern from the king. “i implore you to take the carriage. the yellow wood is far from kind..” you decode his meaning before he ever finishes speaking. the yellow wood is far from safe.

“but is this not the same wood my husband’s troop plans to take, sire?” hyunjin’s nod comes seconds later, shame tensing his jaw. hyunjin is visibly trying to appreciate your patience after having all this information dumped on you. but hyunjin also recalls the threats you readily made and followed through on in your younger years. so much so, he fears the worst of you when you bow before slowly approaching him, voice but a decibel higher than a nat’s buzz to threaten him. the king. before as many witnesses as it takes to have your head. “fine. i will take the carriage.

“but i regret to inform you i have fallen victim to the sick allure of hope. so if this carriage takes him from me? if i am too late? i will burn your kingdom to the ground, jinnie. mark my words.”

only once you leave does hyunjin breathe, noticably shaken by the violent rage existing within the women of his kingdom. “ready her carriage.” he suddenly commands, terrified of letting you down. “i want her there by nightfall.”

hyunjin had not embellished the treachery of this road. you had halted close to ten times in the first six hours of the journey. thanks to forewarning by the king and his council, your guards were prepared to be extra vigilant. weary from all sides of the carriage, bandits who fell from the trees and ambushed from the sides did not live long enough to prevail. from dawn til dusk, the wood falsified night with its woven rotted branches and the gradually setting sun, seeing was becoming more hopeless yet more crucial. without a maid for travelling company and jeongin busy guarding your personage, you were once again left with your thoughts. in times of dire woe, you called on memories of your love, though they read more like dreams. this dream is one that only longing for the man you prayed awaited you on the end of this perilous journey could conjure. because not only do you miss him, you fear for him. not much has changed.

‘you think i am going to get myself killed?’ he breathed, nipping at your clavicle as you rest in his lap. ‘have you no faith in me?’

‘of course i do,’ you defend, gasping as he clamps down, teeth rolling your skin. ‘i just-’

‘you just.. what?’ he doesn’t expect an answer. or so you suspect. especially following a slow drag of your thinly veiled heat over his firmed thigh. ‘you think i would ever abandon you?’

‘no, binnie,’ you start, rising from him with a sigh. ‘i just know you.’

‘you do?’ he ponders sweetly, gazing up at your shining eyes. ‘and what is it you know?’

‘you’re powerful, but far too stubborn.’

‘you know,’ he hums, crossing his thick arms as a small pout steals the lips of the strongest man in the kingdom. ‘for someone who claims to adore me, you tend to speak ill of me every chance you get, my lady.’

‘must the two be exclusive?’ when his frown only deepens, his folded arms tightening, you sigh once more. returning to his spread legs, you perch yourself on them, raising your steady fingers to the creases painting the forehead of the most stubborn man you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. he softens only slightly, his pouted lip closing around yours when you lean in, silently asking his forgiveness. ‘for every ill spoken word, i make up for with countless good, bin.’

‘such as?’ he huffs, knowingly egging you on.

with a small smile, you offer a final peck to his lips before praising the knight beneath you. ‘i know you will fight valiantly.’ you admit, pride permeating right through you to the man you call yours. ‘you will bring honour to your family, to your country.’ with the pads of your fingers, you tuck his hair behind his ear, cooing as he relaxes at your touch. ‘you will be a hero, my love.’

‘and this all worries you?’

‘do you know who will keep your legacy alive, changbin?’ his frown returns at concern for your quivering lip, a sudden fear seeping into your tone. ‘me. your widow.’ he begins to shake his head, a half assed assurance on the tip of his prideful tongue when you remind, ‘it may vex you to hear this, but please remember your knighting was in part an award for your bravery, but also in large part to hyunjin’s love for you.’

‘how can you say that-’

‘since bang chan the brave, name a knight who lived to see his knighting. just one, bin. name one who knelt before their king and felt the sword atop their shoulders. name one who did not die in battle, leaving their grieving widow to accept a meaningless commendation of his honour?’

‘you call your father’s commendation meaningless?’

‘don’t make me laugh, bin.’ your scoff would wound him had you not uttered, ‘i would have rathered he be the one to walk me down the isle the day i married you. knowing my father loved me enough to protect his country is a nice sentiment, but don’t you dare assume i would take that honour over his life.’

‘hey,’ he calls, holding you in his lap as you try to move from him. ‘my love, i didn’t mean to offend.’

‘i know,’ in these seconds you see past the facade, the knight that your husband is. you only see what you fell in love with. you see the compassion, the understanding. ‘bin, i need you to understand. really understand.’ with his cheeks cradled in your palms, you plead with your love. ‘you mean everything to me, seo changbin. before i ever realised you did. i will not let this mindless war take you from me.

‘don’t be a hero, changbin. leave that to some village boy with a chip on his shoulder, with something to prove.’ he nuzzles into your palm as he listens to your plea, gazing into your warning eyes. ‘just come back to me, okay? don’t make me beg.’

‘what if it helped your case?’ he mumbled into your skin, his lips gently puckering as his palms glide up the side of your neck. his tongue slid betwixt your parted lips, trying to exorcise any and all tension from your trembling frame. with another soft pucker of his lips, a suck on your wet muscle has you loosening, falling into him as he moves to embrace you. ‘would you?’

‘do not mock me.’

‘i would never,’ you find this hard to believe as he smirks like a man with ten knives readied for your back. they come as kisses instead, they line the column of your neck, followed closely by his thumbs as he angles your head toward him. ‘you just seem ready to, so i would love to hear it.’

‘perhaps i will marry that lee boy, with the speckled cheeks. i hear the maids think he’s a descendant of fairies, born from the very stars that kiss his face-’ the words halt in your throat as he flips you, firmly pinning you to the goose down.

‘you seem to have thought this through..’

‘have i much choice?’ you huff, glaring at his thoughtful gaze. ‘one tends to ponder such things when faced with their husband’s imminent demise.’ he only sighs, eyes rolling skyward as he asks the gods, old and new, why they ever chose you for him. ‘i hear his line is filled only with beautiful men. who was his ancestor again? minho the something.’

‘you know,’ refusing to come to your aid, he gathering up the hem of your silks. ‘most men would have your head by now.’

‘-magnificent! it was minho the magnificent!’

‘maleficent.’

‘hm?’

‘his name,’ nipping at the exposed skin of your chest, his hand tugs at the starched fabric as he corrects you. ‘it was minho the maleficent.’

‘oh,’ you breathe, less in defeat but rather in sweet contentment. ‘and why is that?’

‘because, my sweet,’ he huffs into your chest, resting on the heels of his palms planted either side of your cushioned head. ‘he burned all of levanter to the ground when his queen died.’

‘yes, he did.’ changbin only strokes the skin of your cheek as you pout, his eyes rolling at your uncanny ability to bring everything back to his encroaching departure. ‘and my husband will not even skip one war for me.’

‘’one war’?’ he smirks, dropping his lips to your exposed breast, tongue sweeping over your teased nipples. ‘you speak as though war is like an evening in a tavern.’

‘both tend to end in regret,’ you jest, or attempt to. it is growing increasingly difficult to barter with him as he presses his lips to your stomach, his body lowering in kind with his touch. before he can disappear entirely from view, you rise. as he rises with you, you are stunned by his rosey cheeks, the flush journeying to his neck as you rest on your elbows. he sees your turmoil. your clear desire for him shadowed painfully by your love and fear. he drops a kiss to your hip, his knuckles dusting the veiled bead of your heat, eyes hard on you as you falter, head lolling to the side before you regain your strength. ‘bin?’

‘hm?’

‘stay.’ it’s faint. so faint he barely recognises it as a plea. he only sighs, his forehead pressed to your abdomen as he purges your wet eyes from his memory. ‘please say you will stay. i cannot bear the thought of a winter without you.’

‘my love,’ changbin speaks into your skin, lowly beseeching your understanding while praying for your peace. ‘a season might separate us,’ he hums, expertly parting your thighs as he offers a lone kiss to your mound. ‘but only a season could.’

“my lady?” jeongin’s voice is first to break you from your nostalgic nightmare. the second is the cries of injured men. “we have arrived.”

the edge of the wood is a wounded minefield. limbless soldiers, knights and footmen alike, are dotted around the dimly lit field. your eyes gloss over at the heaped bodies, and water at the stench. “how long have they been here?”

“just under a week,” jeongin recalls, holding his hand out to stop you as medics pass with a burnt body on a stretcher. “it is hard to believe this is the winning camp.”

“there are no winners in war, jeongin.” you whisper, watching a man close the eyes of his fallen comrade a pair approach to drop his body in a mass grave. a fight ensues. “only loss.”

“y/n?” you halt at the call, half sprinting at the sight of han jisung, wearing a smile warm enough to light the night. “i thought his highness was jesting when he said you’d be here.”

“han!” you cried, latching onto him with a grip that nearly winded him. “thank god, thank god.”

“more like thank changbin,” he wheezed, squeezing you back just as tight, lifting you a few feet off the ground. “had he not been here, i would have surely-”

“where is he?”

“-died.” he only grins as you stiffen, recognising his part in your terror a second too late. “oh! no! he isn’t dead! he is alive! very alive!” his eyes flicker to a scowling jeongin, gulping down an apology as he gestures to his left. “come.”

further from the wood and slowly decaying corpses are the tents. some somehow less grand than a teepee, some spacious enough for a few hours sleep. jisung guides you both up to the largest of the lot, where you find an ill tempered king hyunjin growing increasingly more so. “no, leave him be.”

“had we known you were coming your grace- we can have him moved immediately.”

“your king gave you an order, soldier.” jisung chimes in, tongue slotting into the swell of his cheek as he gestures to you over his shoulder. “now move out of the way or i’ll have you explain to lady seo why she can’t see her husband on account of your insubordinance.”

“yes, sir.”

hyunjin bristles at jisung’s ability to command his men with little effort before he softens at your restless gaze. “he’s been asking for you.”

the grandeur of the king’s tent suits changbin well, you think. a fire crackles at the furthest end, masked only by a large canopy where you know he rests. the four poster bed takes up most of the space, and around it lays tin bowls, rags, blankets and water. the room seems barely lived in bar the knight whose faint breaths float toward you through the warm air. you feel yourself stalling, too busy taking in the space to recognise your fear. what will you find when you pull the curtain away? what remains of your husband, your lover, your friend? will he still have the same warm eyes and full cheeks? will his hands still fit in yours? his feet still step in time with yours? will he look the same, sound the same even? you swallow down this fear, and instead bask in the joy that he’s alive. your husband is alive. and nothing separates you. not a season, nor a wood. not time or conflict. only your fears.

and then they don’t. when you pull back the veil, nothing separates you but air. a soft man made gust as you reveal the man you’d once called your friend, only to call your betrothed and then yours. the fire barely lights the room yet still he glows. he lies bare from the waist up, his abdomen bandaged in rolls of cotton, his chest exposed. you watch it, the slow rise and fall of the place you longed to rest your head, you dreamt of dreaming on. before you realise, you have lowered yourself beside him, careful not to disturb him, nor his wound. before you can call for him he smiles. even in his state of slumber, he leans into your touch. before you meet his eyes, you feel his on you.

“you came.” he whispers, a heavy breath of relief escaping him as your thumb dusts his cheek.

“of course,” you try, before taking your lip between your teeth, fearful your tears might dampen his skin. you kneel at his side, carefully ridding yourself of your outer garments, before returning your hand to his cheek. “how do you feel?”

“now?” he smirks, wincing as a laugh runs through him. “wonderful.”

“and before?”

“so, so.” he murmurs with a kiss to your palm. “a sword to the stomach will do that to you.”

“do i have han jisung to thank for that?”

“no,” he coughs, recalling his sacrifice. “only me.”

“well that’s good,” you hum, employing the upmost care when leaning over him. “because i would hate to think my knight was blindsided.”

“never,” his assurance fans your lips, as yours hover over his. “only by you.”

you almost forgot how it felt to kiss him. the feeling only coming in dreams. there was no memory strong enough to conjure the feeling of his lips pressed against yours. the slow melt of tender skin on skin, the warmth, his gentle caress. his kiss is slow, but even in his prime he took his time. his lips close around yours with such timing and precision, ushering a slow burn of desire from the heels of your feet all the way up to the crown of your head. he knew how to expunge pain and fear from you, to free you from your demons, to reinvigorate you. to love you.

he’s weak. in all the worst ways. his body, his will. he raises his hand to your neck, pulling you closer as he presses his tongue between your lips, connecting the muscles with little intent of parting. he swallows around you, drinking you in, keeping that same, slow and teasing pace. only to pull you closer.

“you need your rest,” you pant into his mouth, resting all your weight on your arms as he pulls you back down, pinning your forehead to his.

“no,” he refuses, sweeping his thumb along your jaw. “i need you.” his voice shakes then, unlike him. unlike the man you know. “only you.”

“is that why you called me here?” you tease, silently wiping his tears away, silently reading the fear in his eyes. he begs them away though warms at your easy dispelling. “to use me?”

“my love,” he laughs, ignoring the pain in favour of basking in your smile. “you know i did not call for you.” when you move to argue, he recalls, as if he were there, “‘would taking just a horse quicken my arrival?’”

“i might have been here sooner if-”

“this,” raising his other arm, he gathers your face in his palms, “is soon enough.”

safe.

“okay.” you agree, allowing him to tug you closer once more. you let him kiss you without restraint. you let him curl his fingers into your neck, ignoring his wincing and kiss him through it. you let his grunts mask his pain, his teeth rolling your lip between the rows, you let him share it. you let him have you, because despite the odds he stayed alive. he stayed alive for you. and that was enough. “i love you.”

he blinks up at your shining eyes, guiding your wet cheeks to his puckered lips. “i love you,” he whispers back against your lips, feeling himself heal at just the touch of your hand. “only you.”

because only a season separated you. but now, not even a season could.

[jayeray-hq]

Twin Kittens (Part 1)

Hey everyone! This is my part for the Paws and Claws Collab that was with @katslutski The theme of the collab was hybrids (puppy/kitty/bunny etc) so if you’re interested check it out!

Unfortunately as usual I got excessively wordy, so this is going to be split into three parts. This part alone is about 20K words and we're only about a third of the way through! so it definitely had to be split up.

If you like this feel free to check out my Atsumu or my Osamu masterlists!

While there is no smut in this part there will be in the future thus this story is 18+ minors DNI please!

TW: Previous mentions of past abuse, gaslighting, verbal, death threats, hybrids have been treated like slaves before

This story is Fem Reader x Atsumu x Osamu but there will be no actual incest. While there will be a threesome at the end the boys won't ever touch one another sexually.

“Are you alright?” your neighbor Ojirou asked, a concerned look on his face as he watched you listlessly stir your drink with the straw, playing with the melting ice in the glass.

The two of you were actually good friends, having lived peacefully side by side for over five years now. You’d met on the very first day when you moved in, you’d been struggling to open the door with a large box in your arms and he’d rushed to the rescue. He and his hybrids diligent Kita, the blue merle border collie, and sly, sleek Suna the Siamese cat, had all pitched in to help you get moved in and settled. You’d been good friends with all three of them ever since.

It was his turn to host your traditional Friday night dinner, so you’d gone over to his apartment determined to enjoy yourself. However, something must’ve given away the rough day you’d had, because all three of them had been casting you concerned looks all night and trading glances when they thought you couldn’t see.

It was apparently Aran’s job to confront you about it, though both hybrids were looking at you expectantly. Well, Kita was looking at you expectantly, Suna was pretending not to pay attention, his phone in his hands, but you could see him watching out of the corner of his eye.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” you asked determined to at least give it a try.

The stern look you got from Kita and the sympathetic smile from Ojiro told you how ultimately fruitless the effort had been, so you caved in with a sigh, pushing your glass away so you could slump face down on the table burying your head in your arms. You’d tell them, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be necessarily looking them in the eye when you did.

“You know how I went to that thing with some of my girl friends today?” you asked tiredly.

There were acknowledging hums all around even from Suna who you saw from the corner of your eye was no longer pretending to look at his phone and instead watching you like some rare breed of animal in a zoo doing something particularly fascinating.

“Well it was fun, great even,” you told them with a small quirk of your lips, “Right up until we started talking about significant others. Apparently two of them are getting married soon, one has a baby on the way, and the rest are in steady loving relationships or have openly declared they aren’t interested in that kind of thing. So guess who was the only sad single there?”

“Ah,” Ojirou acknowledged a well of sympathy in his voice.

“And of course once they found out, they were like ‘oh I think my husband has a brother’ or ‘oh I have this great friend from work you’d just love,” you ranted, earning a quiet snicker from Suna, which prompted you to lift your head up so you could dig back at the cat hybrid who looked to be having far too much fun at your expense.

“They even asked me why I didn’t date my nice neighbor, the one I’m always hanging out with,” you added on ruthlessly, ignoring Ojirou’s shocked sputters, “But I told them he was in a committed relationship. They were skeptical at first, but then I told them that I was sure because someone is extremely loud, enough that I’m forced to use headphones to drown out the yowling.”

Poor Ojirou was coughing, clearly dying of embarrassment, and even Kita had the faintest red tinge to his cheeks. Unfortunately, Suna, unbothered as ever, simply smirked at you, which confirmed some of your suspicions that he’d been doing it on purpose, the brat.

Heaving another forlorn sigh you decided to give up and give poor Ojirou a break, making a mental note to make it up to him somehow. The poor guy really didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire between you and Suna.

“So, I spent the time being relentlessly hounded until it was time to leave,” you continued on, pretending not to notice Kita patting Ojirou’s back sympathetically, “I tried to explain to them that I just don’t have the time and energy it takes to go out and start dating people, that work was taking up too much of my time, but they weren’t having any of it.”

“It sounds like a rough time,” Ojirou told you, with genuine sympathy, the man too kind even after you’d embarrassed the hell out of him, “like when I go home and baa-chan asks when I’m going to settle down and get married.”

Suna let out an involuntary hiss at that, and Kita’s shoulders stiffened up a bit. Even though hybrid-human relationships were accepted and even almost expected between them and their owners these days, it didn’t mean that everyone accepted them as ‘true’ relationships. There were a good chunk of people, mostly conservatives and the older generation who believed that human/human relationships were the only valid ones.

This was no doubt because of the fact that most hybrid children, once they hit eighteen chose to go to hybrid adoption centers rather than staying with their parents. This was partly because it was one of the few good ways to get out from under your parents roof.

Hybrid rights had come a long way from when they’d first been implemented a few decades ago, back when they were considered something of a toy and a pet, not better than a slave. However, they technically still required a human ‘owner’ to do things like go to school, find a job, or even be out in public unsupervised.

There were people working to change that of course, and you’d donated heavily to the cause and actively supported it, but change was slow going, so for now it was what it was. It didn’t help that there were a good deal of people around like Ojirou’s grandma who viewed hybrids as less than human, and would probably never acknowledge his relationship or any children they had, especially if the children were hybrids too.

It was something you’d listened to him vent about more than once, happy to lend him a listening ear, especially since he’d done the same for you plenty of times over the years.

“It wasn’t quite that bad,” you admitted, giving him your own sympathetic smile, “but it was rather depressing.”

“Do ya even want a companion like that?” Kita asked her reasonably, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard ya talk about wantin’ a relationship other than rantin’ about a few failed dates here and there. If ya don’t I don’t see why it should be a problem, and not any of their business either.”

“Except I think I kind of do,” you admitted with a grimace, to the practical dog-hybrid who always gave solid, dependable advice, “I never planned to spend the rest of my life alone you know? I just always put my career first figuring relationships could come later, when I had more time, but now I’m starting to wonder if later will ever come.”

“And ya don’t want to date?” Kita asked with a slight frown, “I’m sure ya could make time if ya really wanted to, we could change our dinners around fer a while maybe?”

“No way,” you protested immediately, “Dinners with you guys are my only bastion of sanity. Plus I’m not even sure I want to go out and meet people, frankly at this point I’m not even sure I know how. It just… gets a little lonely coming home to an empty apartment sometimes you know?”

“So why don’t you get a hybrid?” Ojirou asked, his tone eminently reasonable despite the shock of what he’d said.

“A hybrid?” you repeated a little dumbfounded, “Me?!”

“Well why not?” he defended, stroking his recently grown goatee with his thumb and forefinger, “You’re wealthy enough to afford one, it would solve your companionship issue, and you wouldn’t have to date anyone, just go to a hybrid adoption center and find someone you’re compatible with.”

When he put it like that it did sound reasonable, even if it wasn’t an idea that had ever occurred to you. A lot of your friends, not just Ojirou, had hybrid companions, one of the weddings discussed earlier that day was even to a hybrid even if it wouldn’t be official until they could get proper legislature passed. You just had never really considered it an option for yourself.

“Do you think I could?” you asked with a light frown, turning the idea over in your mind, the question directed more at Kita than anyone else, both because he was always the most reasonable of the three and because as a hybrid you thought he’d probably be more qualified to answer whether you were a fit ‘owner’.

However to your surprise it wasn’t Kita, but Suna who answered first informing you in his normal lazy drawl, “You’d do well with a hybrid I think, probably something lower energy, like a cat, and we’re pretty self-sufficient as you know, so you wouldn’t have to worry about leaving it home alone like you would a pet.”

“He’s right,” Kita agreed, after a thoughtful pause, “Personally I believe ya would do well with a hybrid, ya get along with us well enough. Plus if yer worried we can help ya look after them. Suna needs a playmate anyway, he’s been getting’ up ta too much mischief lately when Aran and I ain’t here.”

Suna didn’t even bother to protest, just shrugged, completely unbothered by the accusation. Figuring you might as well take advantage of the situation you asked a few more questions, all of which were answered by your friends who all had a lot of input on what kind of hybrid you should get.

You left that night with your head stuffed full of information, after telling them you needed time to think it over. Getting a hybrid was a lifechanging thing and you didn’t want to run off half-cocked. It had gotten you an approving nod from Kita and a supportive pat on the shoulder from Ojirou. Suna had simply given you a knowing smirk, as if the smug cat hybrid already knew exactly what you were going to do as you walked out the door.

You stared up at the hybrid adoption center, not quite sure how you’d ended up here. For the last week or so, ever since Ojirou had brought it up you’d had hybrids on the brain. You’d found your eyes wandering to look at them when they passed you in the street and idly daydreaming in your down time what it might be like to have one waiting when you came home and fantasizing about what kind you might get.

Normally you were very focused and productive at work, but somehow, you’d found yourself scrolling through different sites, putting in research into what kind of facility you should visit and what you’d need to do. It had gotten bad enough that some of your coworkers had noticed your distraction, which was the final nail in the coffin.

You’d already known which center Ojirou had used to choose Kita and Suna, and so at the end of a particularly long day, quietly dreading heading home to your empty apartment you’d instead found yourself driving over to the center.

It was on the smaller side when it came to hybrid adoption centers, privately run and owned by Azumane Industries, a fashion line that created clothes that specifically catered to hybrids. Ojirou had, had nothing but good things to say, and so gathering your courage you left your car to head resolutely inside.

The lobby was rather quiet, only one other patron and two people manning the desks, both of whom looked up when you entered. You were a bit surprised to see the only two workers in sight were hybrids, one a silver cat of some type and the other clearly a German shepherd.

In hindsight it made a lot of sense to have hybrids be in charge of the adoption of other hybrids as they would likely know best how to match people up. However, you rarely saw that kind of practicality when it came to hybrids especially because you knew there was a lot of prejudice out there.

You offered the cat a hesitant smile, stepping up to the desk, the smile he gave back one that was both kind and welcoming as he introduced, “Welcome to Azumane Industries Hybrid Adoption Center. My name is Sugawara, how can I help you today?”

“I’m looking to adopt,” you admitted, unsure what else to say you tacked on, “My friend recommended this place to me, so here I am.”

“Well, we’ll take good care of you,” he assured you calmly, “Usually we do this by appointment, but you’re lucky. It’s a slow day and we have an opening, so I’d be happy to start the process with you if you’re willing.”

“Great,” you told him with a quiet sigh of relief, glad that he could fit you in. Honestly you should’ve known that a place like this would require a call ahead at least. It would’ve served you right for being so impulsive if they hadn’t been able to squeeze you in, “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Sugawara offered you a sly grin, one that reminded you of Suna as he promptly pushed a large stack of paperwork in your direction and handed you a pen. You grimaced at the sight of it but set to work, quietly filling out the forms one by one and handing each of them to Sugawara after so he could log them into his computer.

The forms reminded you of a loan or job application in a lot of ways, asking after your health, your income, your living situation, if you had a criminal record, any previous experience with hybrids etc. It took you quite a while to fill them all out, and by the end of it your wrist was sore and you’d signed your name more times than you cared to remember. However, since Sugawara had been filling in as you went you didn’t have to wait long to move on to the next step.

“Congratulations,” he told you with an amused smile, watching as you massaged your wrist, “You’ve been approved to adopt from our center, which means we now get to the fun part.”

“Fun part?” you questioned a little warily, having learned from Suna that a cat hybrid smiling at you didn’t necessarily mean good things for your sanity.

“Tell me about what kind of hybrid you’d like,” he told you leaning forward, elbows braced on the desk as he watched you intently, “Do you have any preferences? I’ve read all your information as we’ve gone along so I have some ideas, but I’d like to hear from you what you think you want.”

“I’m not sure where to start,” you admitted, feeling a little overwhelmed.

“That’s alright,” he assured you, “That’s what I’m here for. Let’s start with species, that’s always good and will narrow things down a bit.”

“I know I want a cat or dog hybrid,” you told him immediately glad to have some kind of answer for him, “Rabbit and rodent hybrids have heats and ruts too often for me to handle given how busy work keeps me.”

Heats and ruts were one of the big things that separated hybrids from humans and were part of the reason it was hard for them to find and hold down jobs. There were two kinds of hybrid within each species, alphas and omegas.

Alphas were usually more aggressive, stubborn, and willful. You needed to have a more dominant personality to have an alpha hybrid otherwise they’d walk all over you. Alphas also had a period called a rut, where their hormones skyrocketed and made them want to breed with anything and everything. It was a really uncomfortable time for them, and made them even more aggressive.

Omegas were generally more passive, quiet and compliant. They tended to be favored over Alpha hybrids as companions because of their more docile nature. They had periods called heats, which were similar to an Alphas rut, the only difference being they wanted to be bred rather than to breed. It made them needy and clingy the entire time.

Both heats and ruts lasted anywhere from a couple of days to a week depending on the species of hybrid. Dogs and cats had week long heats, but they only happened two to three times a year, whereas rabbit and rodent hybrids only lasted a few days, but happened every week and a half to two weeks.

You knew it wasn’t necessarily expected for a hybrid owner to stay home when their hybrid was in heat or rut, but you also knew it was those times that hybrids tended to be more reckless. Most of the research you did advised that you should if you could, even if you weren’t the one who was going to be sexually intimate with your hybrid. There were of course hybrid heat centers, where hybrids could go to find willing partners and get their needs taken care of, but you’d heard horror stories about places like that and didn’t want to use one unless you absolutely had to.

“There are medications to manage heats and ruts,” Sugawara pointed out reasonably, a slight frown on his face.

“I know,” you agreed, “But I did some research and it looks like most hybrids don’t like to take them because they have nasty side effects, like potential infertility, mood drops, and weight gain. If there’s a rodent or rabbit hybrid that wants to voluntarily take the medication then that could be fine, but I’ve heard only a few ever want to risk it.”

Sugawara looked surprised for a moment, then slowly nodded, “It’s good you’ve looked into things, and it’s nice to see someone who’s come prepared. I’ve heard a bit of that too, so no rabbits or rodents. Do you have any preference Alpha versus Omega?”

“Not really,” you admitted with a helpless shrug, feeling a little bad for not being able to narrow down the criteria for him, “I’m pretty open so long as they can fit into my lifestyle, are a little more independent, and think they’ll get along with me.”

“Well you’ll at least have lots of options,” Sugwara assured you, with a smile that told you he wasn’t off put by the fact that you didn’t know exactly what you wanted either, “Does that mean you don’t have a preference for breed either?”

“That’s right,” you agreed with a firm nod, “I just want someone who’s going to be compatible with me, everything else is secondary.”

“Okay,” he told you cheerfully, “I’m sure we can do that! Though it might take us a little bit to narrow things down. Since you aren’t picky you might as well come with me to start looking. Daichi can you manage the desk on your own?”

“Sure,” the german shepherd hybrid agreed, from where he’d been sitting quietly, keeping watch over the two of you and typing away on his computer, since there was literally no one else in the lobby, “Just keep a radio on you so I can call you back up here if it gets busy Suga.”

Your soon to be guide agreed with a smile, plucking one of the aforementioned radios up and attaching it to his belt, before standing up from the desk. He stretched in a very feline manner, then ushered you towards a door that led toward the back of the building, tail swishing peacefully behind him.

“Each species of hybrid has its own floor,” Sugawara explained as he led you through the hall, “Bunnies are on the top floor, rodents underneath them, cats on the second floor and dogs here on the first. Each floor has four separate wings, separated into categories depending on whether the hybrid in question is male or female, alpha or omega. These wings have private rooms in them and are connected by a shared space.”

“We’ll be going into the shared space,” he explained pausing outside one of the doors, “It’s where hybrids come both to hang out, and to meet people. If a hybrid isn’t interested in being adopted by a specific human they’ll simply return to their rooms until the human leaves. This way we ensure that no one gets coerced into adoption. We also keep a close eye on things with security cameras in the shared space, for both the safety of humans and hybrids. Before we enter the room, I need you to give me verbal consent to allow yourself to be filmed.”

“That’s fine,” you told him, more than a bit impressed with how thorough and organized the whole thing was, along with the lengths they went to, to ensure everyone’s comfort.

“Alright then, let’s introduce you to the dogs,” he teased, with a confident smile.

The minute the door opened, almost every head turned in your direction, making you feel a bit awkward and unsure. Some of the hybrids were in their human forms, ears and tails the only hint of their non-human status, while others were lounging around in their secondary animal form.

The animal form of a hybrid was indistinguishable from a normal animal of the same breed. The only thing that might give it away was the high level of intelligence. Your research told you that hybrids tended to act more on their instincts when in animal form, which could be both a good thing and a bad thing.

Case in point, the minute you entered with Sugawara one enormous grey and white speckled dog came bounding over barking his head off. He was absolutely huge, and only the madly wagging tail kept you from cringing back as he charged over, his barking immediately setting off a few of the others.

You got the wind knocked out of you a bit as he collided with you, though thankfully the door was behind you, and kept you from being knocked off your feet as he placed enormous paws on your shoulders, burying his face in your hair and sniffing enthusiastically. You froze, unsure exactly what to do in this situation, and more than a bit uncomfortable.

Luckily Sugawara immediately came to your rescue, shoving the big dog off as he scolded, “Bokuto! What have I told you about jumping up on our guests!”

The big dog immediately began to whine, tail tucked between his legs, and you wanted to feel bad for him, except you were still a bit unnerved.

“Sorry about him,” Sugawara apologized with a sigh, “He’s harmless I promise, just incredibly enthusiastic about new people.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, hesitantly reaching out to Bokuto palms first to see if he might be interested, only to have him turn away. Unsure what to do you glanced at Sugawara, whose tail was swishing in clear agitation.

“Ignore him,” the silver haired cat hybrid told you, “He’s just sulking because he got scolded. In fact, better yet ignore all of them, since they can’t stop being rude and barking.”

This last bit, along with the fierce glare that accompanied it was leveled at the room in general, earning some sheepish looks from a couple of the dog hybrids who were in human form, and managing to quiet several of the barking ones who were in animal form.

“Come on,” he urged with one last flick of his tail, “I should’ve started you with the cats anyway. You seem like a cat person to me, and I assure you they’ll have much better manners. If you don’t find what you’re looking for there, we’ll come back, but let’s explore the cat option first and give them time to recall their manners.”

You allowed him to usher you out of the room and toward the elevator, trusting his judgment. It was funny that he’d said you were a cat person, as he was actually the third cat hybrid to have told you so, Suna being one and the Siamese hybrid of one of your coworkers being the other.

It took you less than a minute to get up to the next floor, and when Sugawara ushered you into the cat hybrid room you could immediately feel the difference. There was no noise for one, just a bunch of curious eyes turned in your direction, but it didn’t feel hostile at all.

Sugawara quickly introduced you to the cat hybrids, telling them you’d come to adopt and had ‘just been slobbered all over by the dog hybrids’ so if they could all ‘mind their manners’ that would be great. You were a little amused at the exasperated hybrid’s antics, and you weren’t the only one, if the quiet snickering from a hybrid with particularly messy hair was any indication. However you were also grateful to him for being so diligent as he introduced you to everyone.

Slowly, several cat hybrids meandered up to you, some in human form, some in cat form, though some also stayed in place clearly observing everything. You chatted lightly with the ones in human form, while letting the ones in cat form do as they pleased, answering their questions and asking a few of your own.

It was a much more relaxed experience, something you were infinitely grateful for after the sudden chaos of the dog hybrid room, and you had to wonder if the cat hybrids who’d pegged you as a cat person hadn’t been right after all. You were in the middle of quietly talking to a lovely female alpha hybrid named Shimizu when Sugawara’s radio blared to life. Apparently, the front had gotten rather busy and Daichi desperately needed his help.

“Will you be alright if I leave you here?” Sugawara asked you seriously, “This shouldn’t take too long, and Shimizu is more than capable of looking after you.”

“Sure,” you agreed, after a quick glance at the hybrid in question, who gave an acknowledging nod of her head, “I don’t mind.”

“Good,” he agreed with a bright grin, before rounding on the rest of the room, “And all the rest of you better behave or I’ll hear why!”

With one last warning glare around the room he turned on his heel and left, leaving you in Shimizu’s capable hands. The two of you continued to talk amiably as several cat hybrids came by in one form or another to sniff at you or listen in on the conversation from nearby. A number of them only came over for a few minutes, lingered a bit and then left, spreading back out to the room or going into the hallways that led to their private rooms, however a good chunk of them stayed nearby as well.

Chatting lightly with Shimizu and a few of the others you found you really liked the poised and graceful cat hybrid and might’ve looked into adopting her. Unfortunately, Shimizu quickly made it clear that she had some plans of her own, that included getting herself and her young and adorable munchkin kitten hybrid Yachi adopted by one of their frequent visitors.

She was however, more than happy to give her own opinion on some of the other hybrids around, most of whom seemed to respect both her and her opinion a lot. You were listening to Shimizu tell you a bit more about Yachi, who was watching from a safe distance, clearly anxious, but also unwilling to leave, when you felt something paw at your leg.

A quick glance down revealed a long haired fluffy looking cat, in shades of silver and white who was staring up at you expectantly. None of the other cat hybrids had actually dared to touch you, a few coming close, but none making actual moves to greet you.

A little intrigued you crouched down so you’d be closer to his eye level, and extended your hands for him the same way you did for Suna when he was in his cat form, giving him a choice about whether he wanted to be touched or not. The cat hybrid eyed your hands thoughtfully for a minute, before sauntering within reach, nudging his head against your palm.

Taking your cue you allowed yourself to pet him, gently rubbing at his silky ears and enjoying the feeling of his thick, plush coat. His back arched pressing closer into your hands, eyelids lowering in contentment as you carefully massaged your fingers through his fur in a way you knew Suna enjoyed.

A rumbling purr escaped his throat and you couldn’t help the pleased smile that crossed your lips at the sound as he pressed his way closer to your torso, entering the circle of your arms and keeping himself there. You were caught up in petting him for a moment and didn’t immediately notice, but after a few seconds you realized the room had gotten very quiet.

It had been quiet before, as cat hybrids didn’t make a lot of noise in general, but now it was almost deathly still outside the small purring sounds from the cat under your hands. You immediately froze and glanced up at Kiyoko who was watching the two of you with wide eyes.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, more than a bit concerned.

“You pet him,” Shimizu murmured, more to herself than to you.

“Should I not have?” you asked worriedly, moving to pull your hands away, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize. I pet my neighbor’s cat hybrid all the time when he’s in the mood for it.”

The cat hybrid under your hands made a noise of protest as you pulled your hands away, giving Shimizu what you assumed to be a rather annoyed look based on her baffled and slightly contrite expression.

“No,” she assured you quickly, “We like to be pet, physical affection is important to hybrids. It’s just that particular one doesn’t usually allow anyone to touch him.”

“Do you mind?” you asked the hybrid in question, holding out your hands again.

He gave an agreeing mew and pressed his head to your palm, which you assumed meant you could resume petting. The fur under your fingers was clearly well taken care of, soft and plush and you truly wouldn’t have minded continuing to pet him until he got sick of you.

However, you were interrupted by a furious yowling sound that immediately made you jump, your head snapping up to search for the source of the noise. It turned out to be another long haired fluffy cat, this one in shades of gold and white who came charging out of the halls and ran straight at you.

You didn’t even have a second to react as the cat that had been in your arms darted around to hide behind you. Not that it stopped the oncoming golden one who didn’t even bother to go around and instead went right over you, claws digging into your arm as he attempted to get at the silver one.

You let out a yelp of surprise and pain, as he launched himself off your shoulder at the silver cat behind you who immediately darted out of reach, running around you in dizzying circles with the golden one fast on his heels both of them yowling, hissing and spitting, clearly having some kind of argument.

It only took a moment for you to regain your bearings and decide you needed to put an end to whatever this was, since poor Shimizu didn’t look at all ready to step in, an utterly appalled look on her face. Luckily you had quick reflexes and managed to snag both cats around the middle and stand up quickly, the abrupt shift immediately silencing both, no doubt shocked by your interruption.

“I think that’s quite enough of that,” you scolded firmly, as you hefted the two carefully, keeping them firmly separated. They were a bit heavier than they looked but certainly not too much for you to keep aloft.

“You,” you scolded the golden one, gently shaking him, who had turned to stare up at you with wide copper colored eyes, “I don’t know what he did to you or why, but I’m sure whatever it was could’ve been resolved without the ruckus. I also don’t appreciate being climbed on or used as a spring board.

“And you,” you gently shook the silver one in turn, who looked equally surprised to be addressed, “I’m not sure if he deserved whatever you did or not, but you shouldn’t have been causing a ruckus either, and I don’t appreciate you using me as a shield.”

“From what I understand, in order to be here you have to be considered adults,” you continued firmly, “So I suggest you act like it, and figure this out between yourselves without dragging innocent bystanders into your mess!”

With that you loosened your grip, fully expecting both of them to jump to the floor. However, both continued to simply hang limply in your grasp, watching you with curious eyes that you realized rather abruptly were almost completely identical.

“Siblings huh?” you asked no one in particular, nodding to yourself, “I suppose that explains a lot.”

“Are you alright?” Shimizu asked you worriedly, “You’re bleeding.”

A quick glance at your arm showed you were indeed bleeding, small pinpricks of blood welling up from where the golden cat had dug his claws into you. It stung a bit, but you didn’t think it was too bad.

“I’m alright,” you assured her, kneeling down and releasing both cats, since they seemed disinclined to continue fighting, and you wanted your hands free, “Though I’d appreciate some disinfectant and some band aids if you’ve got them.”

“Of course,” Shimizu assured you with a quick nod, “Just let me get them and I’ll be right back.”

The elegant hybrid moved with enviable grace and speed as she exited the room, leaving you alone. A quick look around the room showed that almost every eye was now on you, and you heaved a sigh, not exactly pleased to be the center of attention, especially since none of them did anything but stare, none of them bothering to approach, just look.

You glanced down in surprise when you felt something touching your leg, only to find the golden cat headbutting your shin, rubbing his face against your calf affectionately as he twined his way through your legs.

“Does that mean you’re sorry,” you asked, crouching back down and offering your hands to the pretty, fluffy cat.

He immediately rubbed his face against your hands too, which you took as permission to continue your petting, rubbing your hand affectionately over his head and earning a happy purr from the feline who arched happily into your hands.

You were distracted from your petting by a paw, which came to rest on one of your wrists, the silver cat watching with obvious envy in his pretty copper colored eyes. Luckily for both of you, you had two hands, and you reached out to pet him too after assuring it was okay. The golden cat clearly wasn’t too happy about his brother’s presence, but didn’t kick up a fuss, instead pressing himself closer and becoming more insistent as he purred ever louder. The silver cat didn’t seemed to pay him any attention though, simply soaking up your attention and affection.

“Here,” Shimizu offered as she came back, first aid kit in hand, “Do you need any help getting bandaged up?”

You were about to accept her offer, as attempting to bandage your dominant arm was always a pain, when you felt something strange under your hand. You turned your attention back to the cat hybrids you’d been petting just in time to see the silver one shift, form becoming large, limbs extending, body lengthening and bulking up until he stood in front of you in human form.

You blinked, utterly startled as you stared up at him, taking in his appearance. He was incredibly handsome in his human form, with the same silvery grey hair as his fur in cat form in an undercut and bright bronze eyes that peered out at you from under heavy lids. He had a strong, slightly square jaw and thick eyebrows, with blunt cheekbones and cupids bow lips.

He was also surprisingly big, at least six feet tall, and maybe a bit more than that, with broad shoulders and a trim waist. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt that clung to his chest, showing off the definition of his muscles. To top it all off he had two cat ears poking out from his silvery hair and a fluffy tail that was slowly waving back and forth as he looked at you.

“I’ll do it,” he told the two of you, his voice pleasant and lightly accented, his hand held out to Kiyoko gesturing for her to pass him the first aid kit, “I’ll bandage ya up. It’s only fair since the moron who scratched ya is too busy bein’ pampered.”

That earned a hiss from the golden cat, who immediately began to shift under your hands. You watched in surprise and no small amount of awe as he turned into a carbon copy of the other man who’d appeared, only with golden hair, ears and tail. You’d realized the two were related, but you hadn’t realized they were identical twins. Twins were really rare for hybrids, even more rare than human twins. As such they were usually snapped up for adoption right away, so it was rare to see them in any sort of center.

“If ya hadn’t stolen my puddin’ I wouldn’t have chased ya and scratched her in the first place,” the golden cat hybrid hissed at his brother.

“Well if ya hadn’t eaten my onigiri, maybe I wouldn’t have had to eat yer puddin’” the silver haired one retorted, his tone and expression both flatter compared to his sibling who looked like he might lunge at his twin at any moment.

Not wanting to get in the middle of a literal cat fight you held your own hand out to Kiyoko, who gratefully placed the first aid kit in your hands, then plopped down to sit cross legged on the floor. Your sudden movement startled both cat hybrids who turned to look at you, but you pointedly ignored them as you worked on opening the kit, and pulling out the things you’d need.

“Here I got it,” the golden haired one told you, plopping down beside you, “That scrub ain’t right about a lot of things, but he is right about this. I scratched ya, and I should fix ya.”

You gratefully held your arm out to him, and watched as he gently dabbed the scratches with disinfectant, grimacing slightly at the sting. You were distracted enough by his careful movements that you almost didn’t notice the other twin, right up until he gently smeared Neosporin over the scratches, placing small bandages over the deeper punctures.

“Thank you,” you told them both when they finished, automatically reaching up to pet their heads, but then pausing as you realized the gesture might not be as welcome in their human form.

Your worries were quickly allayed through as the golden one practically fell into your palm, soft, happy purring noises leaving his mouth as you gently scratched the base of his ears. His twin however didn’t immediately move for you, and you turned concerned eyes on him, worried he might be offended. The minute he saw you looking though he immediately leaned forward, pressing his head to your palm, his own soft purrs leaving his throat as you carded your fingers through his hair.

“I’m back,” a familiar voice sang, the door to the room sliding open to reveal Sugawara, with a cheerful grin on his face, a grin that was immediately replaced by wide eyed shock as he saw you and the two hybrids who were nearly in your lap with how close they were pressing towards you.

However, shock melted into fury as his eyes saw the open first aid kit and the bandages on your arm, his words nearly a hiss as he demanded, “What happened?!”

Both hybrids immediately stiffened under your hands, drawing closer to you, either looking to protect you or looking for protection you weren’t sure. Either way you allowed it, rubbing your hands over the backs of their necks in a way that always seemed to sooth Suna as you answered, “We just had a bit of a mishap is all, but we’ve cleared it up.”

“Are you sure?” Sugawara demanded anxiously, “We were told when they were brought in that they’d had a bit of trouble before, but they never mentioned that they might attack humans.”

The golden-haired twin seemed to bristle, and if he were in cat form you were sure all his fur would be puffed out as he glared at Sugawara. His twin didn’t look nearly as bothered on the surface, but close as you were, you could see how tight the muscles in his neck and shoulders were as if he was about to spring forward at any moment.

Instinctively you pulled the golden twin toward you, tipping him over into your lap. Despite his size it wasn’t all that difficult given he’d been practically leaning all his weight on you. He let out a yelp of surprise, but stayed still as you buried your fingers in his hair, keeping his cheek pillowed on your thigh. Your other hand gently squeezed the back of the silver twin’s neck, both holding him still and reminding him of your presence.

“It wasn’t an attack, simply an accident,” you assured Sugawara, as you soothed your thumb over the tense muscles of the silver one’s neck, hoping to get him to relax, “A bit like what happened with the dog hybrid earlier.”

“If you’re sure,” Sugawara told you, watching your pet the twins with wide eyes, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, “Does that mean you’ve decided to take them then? I know you were a little worried about adopting one hybrid so I never imagined you’d want two at once.”

“What?” you asked, a little overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of information, and the assumption he’d made.

“You’d have to take both of them,” Sugawara explained gently, “Admittedly sometimes twins are separated, but we don’t do that unless they want to be separated, and in this case both of them have stated they want to stay together.”

“That makes sense,” you agreed, with a smile. It was good that the center accommodated things like that, and you made a mental note to thank Ojirou for directing you to such an upstanding place.

“Should I get paperwork started?” Sugawara asked, with an answering smile, “If you’re taking the twins it will take a bit more work than usual, so I’d like to get started right away. No pressure though, you don’t have to make a decision today if you don’t want to.”

“I hadn’t really thought about adopting them,” you admitted, and felt both twins stiffen under your hands, so hurried to reassure them, “We haven’t had a chance to chat much yet. I’d like to talk to them a little bit first before we make any decisions.”

“Of course,” the kindly hybrid agreed with an understanding nod, “We’ll give the three of you some space and let you get to know one another a bit better.”

“Thank you,” you told him politely, waiting until he’d ushered Kiyoko a little bit away, clearly trying to give you some sense of privacy despite the fact that they were still well within earshot for hybrids, and likely interrogate the elegant female about what exactly had happened while he was gone.

“Do ya not want us,” the golden haired one asked you, once the two were gone, rolling over in your lap to peer up at you with wide copper eyes, the hint of a pout on his lips, and a little bit of hurt in his eyes.

“I don’t know yet,” you told him honestly, gently stroking his golden hair away from his eyes, “We don’t know each other, yet do we? Do you even know if you want to come with me?”

The two cat hybrids glanced at each other, clearly communicating silently with each other for a moment before turning back to you. The golden haired one had apparently been elected spokesperson because he was the one to admit, “We wouldn’t mind goin’ home with ya.”

“But you don’t even know my name, do you? And I don’t know yours either,” you pointed out, utterly baffled that they’d apparently already decided.

“I heard mister pleasant over there when he introduced ya,” the silver haired one told you with a shrug, “But if it matters so much to ya, I’m Miya Osamu and he’s Atsumu.”

“I can introduce myself ya know,” the golden haired on hissed, doing his best to glare at his brother, though you were sure the effect was entirely lost considering he was apparently refusing to move from your lap and was upside down, “And I didn’t get to hear yer name.”

“That’s because ya were sulkin’ in our room,” Osamu pointed out.

“And whose fault is that huh?” Atsumu demanded with a grimace.

“Yer own,” Osamu countered, looking utterly bored as he peered down at his brother. Atsumu made to lunge out of your lap, but was stopped by your hand pressed firmly to his forehead holding him in place. You took advantage of his moment of distraction to introduce yourself, gently rubbing behind his ears until he started purring again.

“And ya wonder why we want to go with ya,” Osamu told you sardonically, watching the two of you, “I ain’t ever seen anybody who could get ahold of Tsumu like that.”

“Do the two of you always squabble like that?” you asked, a little amused and a little concerned, “If I didn’t know better I would’ve thought one of you was a dog hybrid with how well you’re getting along right now.”

“It ain’t always so bad,” Osamu told you, turning his face away though you thought you saw the faintest hint of pink to his cheeks, “We’re just a little restless is all. We haven’t been here long so it’s just new, not as much freedom as we’re used to either bein’ cooped up for most of the day.”

“Surely they let you out if you want out,” you questioned, a little appalled that the center might be keeping hybrids like prisoners.

“Well sure,” Osamu answered turning back to you, his head tilted to the side as he studied you, “But there are only so many places a hybrid is allowed without an owner ya know.”

You winced slightly at the blunt statement, but couldn’t refute it. The law stated that all hybrids had to have a registered owner, and it was then up to that owner to set limits on the hybrid, about where they could go and what they could do. This was because if the hybrid caused any trouble, it was always on its owner to take responsibility which made things quite limited for them at times. There were lobbyists working to change that of course, as it was viewed as inhumane, but for now the law was the law.

“Did you have more freedom before here then?” you asked curiously, “I’ve heard this place is pretty good.”

“It’s not bad,” Atsumu piped in, his voice content and rumbly as he turned languid eyes in your direction, clearly not wanting to be left out of the conversation, “Better than the first center we were at when we first went up for adoption.”

“So you’ve been adopted before? Or did you just get moved from one of the other centers?” you asked curiously, only to have Atsumu go absolutely rigid under your hands as Osamu hissed at him, clearly angry with his brother, who’d apparently revealed something he shouldn’t if the way he shrank away instead of hissing back said anything.

You glanced between the two of them warily, unsure what to do as Atsumu pulled himself out of your lap so he could look at Osamu. The two of them were clearly communicating, both their tails swishing back and forth in clear agitation.

“We had an owner,” Osamu admitted at last, his words clearly careful as he peered at you from underneath the fringe of his hair, “But we didn’t get along with him so he surrendered us ta the shelter again and they sent us here.”

A part of you really wanted to ask why exactly they hadn’t gotten along with their old owner, but given the way Atsumu was refusing to meet your eyes, his nails practically digging into his thighs where he sat next to you, you got the feeling it would be kinder not to. Instead you carefully redirected the conversation back on topic and asked, “And what makes you think you’ll get along better with me than your previous owner?”

“Yer nothin’ like him,” Osamu told you bluntly, effectively shutting that avenue of conversation down.

“If you say so,” you told him calmly, holding his gaze until he glanced away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

It was clearly a sensitive topic, and you didn’t want to push. You’d just met the two of them today after all, you certainly wouldn’t have liked it if they tried to pry into your past, fair was fair after all.

“What do you picture yourselves doing all day?” you asked instead, figuring you might as well.

“Doing?” Atsumu repeated confused, tilting his head in a manner that you couldn’t help but find rather adorable.

“I’ll be at work most of the day during the week,” you explained patiently, “Which means you’ll be by yourselves for quite a bit of time. You’d be more than welcome to laze around if you really wanted to, but I figured I’d ask.”

“What kind of things are we allowed to do?” Osamu asked slowly, a strange look on his face that you couldn’t quite interpret.

“Anything within reason,” you told him with a helpless shrug, “I have money, it’s not an issue, so long as it’s legal, and doesn’t have the potential to hurt me, you or anyone else then I see no reason to place restrictions. My neighbor has a dog-hybrid who works a small rice farm that Ojirou bought him, but his cat-hybrid Suna spends most of his time either lounging around their apartment or playing sports with some of the other hybrids who live in the neighborhood.”

“Which sport?” Atsumu asked, eyes bright, all hesitation forgotten in the face of this new information.

“Volleyball I think,” you told him with a shrug, “Ojirou and I have gone to watch a few games, though I don’t think it’s just volleyball either.”

If Atsumu had been a dog-hybrid you were sure his tail would’ve been wagging a hundred miles an hour with how eager he looked, copper eyes bright in his face as he told you, “I like volleyball. Do you think he’d let me play?”

“You’d have to take it up with Suna, but I don’t see why he wouldn’t,” you admitted cautiously, earning a happy smile from the hybrid.

“What about you Osamu?” you prompted gently, “Do you play too, or is there something else you’re interested in?”

The silver furred hybrid looked startled to be addressed, but then slowly admitted, “I like to cook.”

“That’s amazing,” you praised, “I live on take out a lot of the time, unless I’m headed over to Ojirou’s or Kita, his dog-hybrid makes an extra bento for me. I really should cook more, but I tend to be on the go a lot and don’t want to dedicate the time.”

“It’s a bit of a shame though,” you admitted, feeling more than a bit sheepish, “One of the best features of my apartment is the kitchen and I hardly ever use it.”

You continued to chat lightly with the twins learning quite a bit about the two of them in the process. Atsumu was definitely the louder twin, always eager and a bit blunt with his words, always saying the first thing that came to mind. Osamu was quieter than his twin, letting his golden furred brother do most of the talking for the two of them. He wasn’t necessarily shy per se, and would answer when spoken to, but he seemed content for the most part to quietly observe before adding his two cents in.

The two of them together were utterly charming, which made you wonder just how they hadn’t been adopted yet. You were fairly sure it must have something to do with the reason they’d been returned to their adoption center, though for the life of you, you couldn’t guess what that reason might’ve been.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Sugawara cut in gently, interrupting Atsumu telling you all about the last volleyball game he’d played in, “But the center is closing to visitors in a few minutes.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized immediately, hurriedly scrambling to your feet, feeling more than a bit guilty, “I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.”

“That’s alright,” Sugawara assured you with a kind smile, “It sounds like the three of you are getting along well.”

“I think so,” you admitted, glancing at the twins who’d both risen to their feet as well, both of them far more graceful than you could ever hope to be.

Both of them were watching you, Atsumu with tentative hope clear on his face, and Osamu completely unreadable except for the agitated twitch of his tail which told you he wasn’t pleased your conversation had been interrupted.

“I’m glad,” Sugawara told you, “Do we have any kind of decision made?”

“I…” you started glancing between the twins, who were both looking at you. Gut instinct meant you wanted to say yes. You’d gotten along well and you thought you might continue to enjoy one another’s company. They seemed like they’d slot into your life pretty easily. However you were still a bit hesitant. Adopting one hybrid had seemed like a big deal, but adopting two?

Plus you’d only met them today. Maybe you were being overly cautious but a single day didn’t seem like nearly enough time to get to know someone before inviting them to live with you, no matter how much your heart urged you to say yes.

“Actually, it doesn’t matter,” Sugawara interrupted, an apologetic expression on his face, pulling you from your thoughts as he explained, “We wouldn’t have time to finish the paperwork before it’s time to close, so you wouldn’t be able to take them home with you anyway, not today at least.”

“But…!” Atsumu tried to protest, but quelled as Sugawara shot him a stern look.

“I think that it will be good for all of you to sleep on your decision,” the cat-hybrid told all three of you firmly, gently beginning to usher you from the room, before telling you, “You can come back tomorrow if you like. We’re open at the same times then.”

“Alright,” you agreed, following after him without a fuss, only to pause in your tracks at a heartbreaking mewling sound.

You turned around to see Atsumu staring after you with devastation written all over his handsome features, his hand outstretched like he was trying to reach out and physically stop you from leaving. Before you’d really thought about it your feet had carried you back, and you’d pulled the hybrid into your arms.

Atsumu clutched you tightly, burying his face in your neck and rubbing his cheek against yours in a move you recognized as scenting. You let him do as he pleased without protest, gently running your fingers through his soft golden hair. However, you were conscious of Sugawara waiting for you, so you gently extracted yourself after a few minutes.

Turning you saw Osamu watching you with an unreadable expression on his face, but you stepped toward him, offering your open arms anyway, waiting patiently. You were rewarded for that patience as he stepped into your hold, nuzzling at you the same way his twin had on the opposite side.

“I’ll come back,” you found yourself promising, “I have work tomorrow, but after I’ll be here.”

Osamu drew back and peered into your face, copper eyes boring into your own, clearly searching for something before nodding, “We’ll hold ya to that.”

You let Sugawara usher you out after that, but found yourself tearing up a bit as you followed after him. You desperately didn’t want to leave the twins behind. Somehow, someway you’d gotten terribly attached to them in just a few short hours.

Your sniffling apparently caught Sugawara’s attention, because he turned around and hurriedly fumbled a packet of tissues from one of his pockets.

“I’m sorry,” he told you apologetically, “I thought maybe you wanted more time to think things over. We can still do paperwork tonight if you want I don’t mind staying a bit late.”

You looked at him, startled that he’d apparently picked up on your hesitation as you gratefully accepted the tissues, dabbing at your eyes and blowing your nose before replying, “No, no you’re right. It’s not a decision I should make impulsively. I do want to think it over I just…”

You trailed off helplessly, unsure what to say or how to explain that you’d gotten incredibly attached and were currently having a crisis as your head and heart were at war with each other. However, Sugawara apparently understood as he nodded in clear sympathy.

“Don’t worry,” he assured you, “That’s completely understandable, adopting a hybrid is no small thing. Those troublesome twins will still be here waiting for you tomorrow, so take all the time you need to think it over.”

“I will,” you told him, then tacked on sincerely, “Thank you, for all your help today. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he told you with a bright, pleased smile as he walked you to the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” you agreed with a smile, letting yourself out and heading back for your car.

The drive home your thoughts were absolutely full of the twins, and what it might be like to have them with you. Your heart and your mind were at war with one another, your heart desperate to run back to the center as soon as it opened in the morning for the cat hybrids, and your head worrying about what it might mean to have both of them and why they’d been returned to the center by their previous owner.

You were so preoccupied with your thoughts that you almost didn’t notice Suna as you walked passed Ojirou’s door, headed to your own.

“What is that?” Suna demanded, his voice making you pause in your tracks.

“What is what?” you asked him baffled as he strode toward you nose in the air, clearly picking up something.

“You smell like hybrid,” he informed you his tone accusatory, watching you with narrowed golden eyes.

“Do I?” you asked mildly.

“You do,” he affirmed, “Doesn’t she Kita?”

“Doesn’t she what?” the collie hybrid asked, emerging from somewhere deeper in the apartment.

“Smell like hybrid,” Suna explained, his tail twitching languidly behind him and eyes alight with interest.

“You do,” Kita agreed, after carefully scenting the air, “Two of them actually.”

“Really?” Suna asked, clearly surprised, moving closer to sniff at you again, “You sure?”

You held still, too used to his behavior to be bothered by it, partly amused and partly annoyed at the cat hybrid who was clearly digging for information.

“Yes I’m sure,” Kita told him calmly, “They’re very similar, but there.”

“They’re identical twins,” you explained, figuring the jig was up anyway, and hoping maybe Ojirou or Kita would have some advice that might help you with your quandary.

“Ho?” Suna asked a purr of interest in his voice as he inhaled and nodded to himself, then asked slyly, “And what were you doing with these twins to have their scent on you so thoroughly?”

“Is Ojirou home?” you asked Kita, completely ignoring Suna’s question, earning a chuckle of amusement from the Siamese.

“He’s here,” Kita agreed, “Did you need to speak with him?”

“Both of you, if you have a minute?” you questioned hopefully.

“For you? Always,” Kita assured you kindly ushering you in.

“Oya, I think I’m hurt,” Suna told you as he followed along behind, a feline smirk on his face, “What about me? Don’t you want my advice too? After all they’re cat hybrids aren’t they?”

“They are,” you agreed with a huff as you plopped into your normal chair, “But are you going to give me good advice, or are you going to say whatever you think will be most amusing for you?”

“What’s this about cat-hybrids?” Ojirou asked, emerging from the hallway, where Kita had gone to fetch him.

“She’s thinking about adopting twin cat-hybrids,” Suna informed him before you had the chance to speak up, smug as the cat who got the canary.

“Are you really?” Ojirou questioned with a grin, taking his own seat.

“Yes,” you agreed, shooting the smug Siamese a look for interrupting and stealing your thunder, “I went to that adoption center you recommended today.”

“That’s great,” Ojirou told you, leaning forward in his chair eagerly, “How did it go?”

You explained your meeting with the twins, happily accepting the drink Kita pressed into your hands, which was your favorite, as the collie hybrid got everyone settled and then settled in himself to listen. You talked about how much you liked them, but your wariness about getting not one but two hybrids, and the strange issue with them having a previous owner and being so cagey about it.

“I can see why you’re wary about used goods,” Suna noted.

“Don’t call them that,” you snapped, despite the fact that you could hear the tinge of sarcasm in his voice and knew he didn’t really mean it, unable to help yourself, “people aren’t like items, and shouldn’t be treated like them.”

“She’s right,” Kita told the Siamese sternly, “Even as a joke, that was a rude way to refer to them.”

Suna slouched in his seat, looking thoroughly chastised as he admitted, “I know you don’t see them like that. You’ve always treated us just like normal people.”

“That’s because you are just like normal people,” you told him, stroking your fingers through his hair to let him know you forgave him, “Just with enhanced senses and a different set of instincts at times.”

“I don’t know why you think you need our advice,” Ojirou pointed out reasonably, “It sounds like you’ve pretty much already made up your mind, you clearly adore them already.”

“It’s just a lot,” you admitted, “Do you think I can handle twin hybrids? Especially since I’ve never even had one before? I mean, I’m not like you, none of my family ever had one growing up, and the only ones I really know are Kita, Suna, and a couple that come into the office with Tendou from time to time.”

“We’re not exactly children,” Kita reasoned, logically, “We don’t actually require all that much care outside of the basics, which I know you’re monetarily able to provide, and companionship, which is the whole reason you decided to seek out a hybrid in the first place. One or two, does it really matter? It might even be better as they’ll be able to keep each other company if they get lonely when you’re gone, and I see no reason we can’t help you look after them too.”

“You’d do that?” you asked the collie hybrid, surprised.

“Of course,” he agreed with a tiny smile, “We’re friends are we not?”

You smiled at him, touched, and extremely reassured by his ever cool logic. It did make sense, and quelled some of your worries, plus knowing the extremely reliable hybrid would help you out if you needed it was incredibly comforting.

“I wouldn’t worry about them being returned to their center,” Suna told you, surprisingly serious, “Hybrids get returned for all sorts of reasons, but most of the time its owner incompatibility rather than behavioral issues. Plus that center wouldn’t let you adopt them if they thought they’d give you trouble.”

“But Sugawara did say they’d heard the twins gave someone trouble,” you admitted, recalling the conversation with the worried cat-hybrid.

“Yes, but they didn’t give you trouble,” Suna pointed out, “We cat hybrids tend to make up our minds pretty quickly about people. It sounds like they decided they liked you, and unless something really terrible happens they’ll keep liking you, we’re terribly stubborn that way.”

“If you’re really worried you can always ask the center about it,” Ojirou told you, “They keep records, and would probably tell you, especially if it’s a concern about their adoptability.”

“I don’t want to pry into something and lose their trust,” you admitted, even as part of you was incredibly tempted to do just that.

“Then maybe try asking if the center if they think whatever the issue was, will be an issue with you,” Suna reasoned, “And if they say no then let it lie and adopt them, and if they say maybe or yes, then tell the twins you can’t accept them if they can’t tell you what the issue was.”

“That seems fair to me,” Kita agreed with a nod, “Just make sure you’re honest and tell them you asked, just in case.”

“Okay,” you agreed, letting out a relieved breath, “Okay that sounds really reasonable to me. It’s just… do you think I’m rushing into this too fast? I mean going to the center today was an impulse.”

“I don’t think so,” Ojirou assured her thoughtfully, “You’ve been thinking about it for a while, haven’t you?”

“She’s put so much thought into it she’s actually over thought it,” Suna interjected wryly before you had a chance to answer.

You made a face at him but couldn’t actually argue. He might have a point about overthinking it. Reassured you spent a good couple hours talking with your neighbor and the two hybrids as they answered more of your questions, and you told them about the twins.

Eventually however you headed home, determined now to get at least a little bit prepared for the arrival of your two new housemates tomorrow. Luckily it wasn’t dirty, but running a load of laundry and doing a little vacuuming never hurt anyone. You didn’t have a whole lot for them and didn’t know what kind of things they might have or need, but hopefully your office with pull out futon and guest bedroom would suffice for now until you could take them shopping.

Falling into bed that night you let yourself feel your excitement for the first time. You were adopting a hybrid, not just one but adorable twin hybrids. You couldn’t wait to bring them home and maybe put an end to your loneliness once and for all.

Osamu glanced slowly around the room, trying not to look at his twin, the clock, or the doors to the main area of the shared living space the way Atsumu was. Yesterday had been a bit of a revelation. He’d never actually expected to approach the woman who’d shown up looking to adopt. After what happened with their last owner he’d never expected to ever actually want to be adopted again. However, somehow he’d found himself entranced by her, and he had no one but himself to blame.

When he’d initially strolled over, it was because he’d known via his bond to his older twin that he’d finally realized that Osamu had snagged his pudding for himself and was throwing a fit about it. He’d thought that his twin wouldn’t dare make a fuss if he was with a potential owner.

The rules of this place were pretty lax compared to the first center they’d lived in. It allowed them a lot more freedoms. It let them come and go from their rooms as they pleased rather than on a regimented schedule, and allowed them to turn down any potential adopter that they didn’t like, which had felt utterly shocking and unprecedented when he’d first been told about it. They gave them a small allowance they could spend or save as they chose, and even let them deal with their heats and ruts in whatever way they chose, including with other tenants so long as birth control was used.

It honestly felt like heaven compared to the first center they’d been at, and maybe even better than living with their previous owner even before everything had gone to shit. He wasn’t sure he’d even ever wanted to leave, which he’d been assured by several other tenants was also an option if he so desired.

However, the one rule that was the same between both centers was that they weren’t allowed to cause trouble with the humans that came looking to adopt. This was only good sense considering how much the law favored humans in cases of hybrid vs human issues. However, unlike the first center they’d lived, this one at least didn’t threaten to put them down if they misbehaved.

They’d been young back then, everyone in that center was, all of them below the age of twenty-one, because anyone who reached their twenty-second birthday disappeared and was never seen again. Thus he hadn’t known it was actually against the law to kill hybrids, none of them had known and the caretakers had perpetuated the rumor that those who reached twenty-two were killed instead of shipped off to other centers in order to make them that much more desperate to be adopted.

It had made him more than a bit bitter once he’d been with their new owner long enough to learn more about what was and wasn’t allowed when it came to human hybrid interactions. The man had actually found their previous beliefs amusing and had laughed at them more than once for being so naïve.

It was positively galling, and had made his hackles rise more than once. However he’d known better than to lash out and had better impulse control than Atsumu who’d been punished by their previous owner more than once for acting aggressively. Fortunately, Osamu had never liked being made fun of, and spite was a powerful motivator, meaning he’d practically memorized any and all of the laws that had to do with hybrids.

It meant the few times their owner had toed the line with Atsumu’s punishments that he’d been able to cite the law to pull him back, right up until their owner had decided he no longer cared and pushed too far, leading to them being removed from his home and put back up for adoption at this new center.

They had been here for just over a month and while several people had been interested in adopting the ‘rare gold and silver hybrid twins’ he had absolutely refused to engage with any of them. It was probably why that female alpha hybrid had been so shocked when he’d first approached.

He’d fully intended to just use the human to keep Atsumu at bay, right up until she’d crouched down and offered her hands to him and he’d gotten a whiff of her scent. He’d known from the few lessons their ma had bothered to teach them that hybrids relied a lot more on their sense of smell than humans did, and that scent was the basis of the instinct that told them who would be a good mate and who wouldn’t.

He’d originally thought compatibility could only be found with other hybrids, after all he’d met plenty of humans before both when he’d lived in the adoption centers and with his previous owner and never once had he gotten a hint of compatibility with any of them. He thought he could be forgiven for completely losing his head and giving over to his instincts as he caught the scent of the most compatible person he’d ever met.

Her scent was honestly indescribable, and his instincts had him purring within seconds as he tried to rub her scent all over himself. She’d obliged, petting him with fingers that had felt magical, her touch kind and soothing and perfect as she rubbed his ears, carded fingers through his fur and rubbed her hand along his back.

He’d been lost in a dizzy haze of touch and scent and probably would’ve remained that way if not for the fury of his brother, which had jolted him out of it. It had been like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head pulling him from his happy haze and reminding him of the whole reason he’d come up to the human in the first place.

He probably should’ve run off, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to move very far, instead darting around to hide behind her. He’d thought that once Atsumu saw her he’d stop and at least hold off attempting to get vengeance until later, but he’d overestimated his brother again, who was apparently more incensed than he’d guessed about the lost pudding.

Instinct had kicked in and before he’d really thought about it he was running away from his brother, darting around her legs in a game of chase that was both amusing and a bit annoying, especially when he could tell how much it was pissing his brother off, his sibling’s annoyance pulsing down their bond in waves of sparks.

He wasn’t sure how long it would’ve continued, as they’d actually run around like this until someone got tired before, usually Atsumu as he got fed up and didn’t have the patience to keep going. However, he’d suddenly found himself plucked right up into the air.

He’d been amused when she’d scolded Atsumu, though the amusement had faded a bit when she’d decided to scold him too, leaving him feeling properly chastised. He’d been more than a bit pissed off with his brother when he’d realized the nice smelling woman was bleeding because of him, though there’d also been a small frisson of fear, wondering what the consequences would be.

However, to his surprise she hadn’t actually seemed all that angry with either of them. Instead she’d immediately accepted Atsumu’s apologies as his brother, who’d managed to get a lungful of her scent had cuddled up to her. He could feel Atsumu’s deep interest in the human. His brother clearly also scented compatibility with her, which wasn’t surprising given they’d shared almost everything else in their lives.

He’d found himself more than a little bit jealous as he’d watched his brother soak up her attention. It had always been like that to an extent. Atsumu had always been the more outgoing one, the one who attracted attention, who wore his heart on his sleeve and somehow managed to win people over despite his often crass personality. Osamu had always kind of faded into the background as he was much quieter and had better control over his emotions, the silver to his gold, the shadow to his light.

Normally he didn’t mind, but this time being forgotten had stung. They’d always competed with each other, but most of the time he’d been humoring his brother, or simply hadn’t wanted Atsumu to win rather than wanting the prize of winning himself. This time though it had felt like more than that. No way was he going to let his brother steal her all to himself.

Before he’d really thought about it he’d reached out a paw, and to her credit she’d immediately offered him a sweet smile and resumed her wonderful petting. Atsumu hadn’t been pleased, but he hadn’t cared a bit.

It hadn’t surprised him at all that when Shimizu had come back with the first aid kit that Atsumu had insisted on taking over when he’d been the one to offer first. The two of them had continued to quietly compete over her attention as they fixed up her scratches, though he could at least feel his brother’s guilt for inflicting them on her in the first place, which did help sooth some of his annoyance with his older twin.

It was utterly gratifying that even when she had Atsumu literally in the palm of her hand, she’d still looked for him too. He’d tried to shove the feeling down and away, trying to remind himself that neither he nor his brother actually wanted another owner, but found it wasn’t working well. The combination of her scent and her fingers as she massaged her fingers through his hair enough to make him want to curl up in her lap and never leave.

He’d thought they might get in trouble when Sugawara returned. His fellow silver cat-hybrid belonged to the owner of the center, and took his job very seriously. He wouldn’t allow any of them to make trouble, and while he respected him, and admittedly envied him a bit for the clear trusting and loving relationship he had with his owner it didn’t stop him from wanting to claw his eyes out for bringing up their past in front of her.

Right when he was considering attempting to verbally eviscerate the other hybrid and damn the consequences his brother’s shock had pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned just in time to see her pull his twin into her lap. The feel of her hand gently squeezing his neck from behind practically made him limp with pleasure as Atsumu’s own bliss at being so close to her combined with his own to thoroughly distract the two of them, though not so much he didn’t notice her excusing their behavior and ensuring they didn’t get in trouble.

However, both of them had snapped to attention when the other hybrid had asked her if she wanted to adopt the two of them. He’d been able to feel his twin’s building hope, his impulsive brother apparently forgetting all about not wanting another owner, already clearly more than half in love with her despite not even knowing her for a day.

It was a trait he both hated and envied in his twin, the ability to be so impulsive, to move on so quickly and let go of past hurts. It wasn’t something he was capable of. He knew he was a grudge holder and far slower to trust than his brother was. He liked to think it served him well and kept him from being as naïve as Atsumu could be, though there were times it made things difficult too.

He’d been unsure whether he wanted her to state her intention to adopt them or not, right up until she’d said she hadn’t even considered it. It stung more than he’d expected, his own small hurt amplified by his brother’s though both of them had been somewhat soothed by her explanation that she wanted to know them better.

It was extremely reasonable and made him like her all the more, knowing she was the cautious type, more like him than like Atsumu, even if he simultaneously wished she’d been a little more impulsive just this one time and said yes instead. Though he found himself heartened by her honesty. That she’d actually asked them if they wanted to go with her rather than making any sort of assumption had settled things for him.

He hadn’t needed Atsumu’s silent pleading to forget their original plans to agree that maybe they should give this human a chance, though it did make it easier in the end to agree as he wasn’t the only one who wanted it.

They’d both tried to win her over, and though they’d accidentally fallen into squabbling more than once she’d handled it like a champ, not at all put off and even amused by it if the smile was any indication. However, despite the fact that they were the ones trying to win her over, it seemed every word she spoke was actually meant to win them over instead.

She was nothing like their previous owner, who’d been strict with his rules and harsh with his punishments. In fact she didn’t speak about punishments at all. He wasn’t naïve enough to think there wouldn’t be any if they misbehaved, but the freedoms she was offering in turn more than made up for anything she might throw their way.

The biggest hiccup had been when Atsumu mentioned their previous owner. The horror and guilt he’d felt from his twin was the only reason he’d managed to keep himself from doing more than hiss at him. His stomach had sunk when she’d gently pressed them for answers, but he knew they had to give her something.

He’d tried to give her as little as possible unwilling to volunteer the information, both because he hated even thinking about their time with their previous owner and because he was afraid she might somehow decide she didn’t want them because of it. In the end she’d changed the subject herself, and not brought it up again, but as she’d walked away from them with Sugawara, leaving them behind he’d wondered rather despairingly if that hadn’t been a mistake.

It didn’t matter that she’d turned around to comfort them when Atsumu had been unable to keep his heartbreak quiet. He’d known the minute she walked out the doors the chances of her coming back were slim to none. That was the other thing that remained consistent between this shelter and the last. Once a potential owner walked away claiming they needed to ‘think on it’ they never came back.

Still he hadn’t been able to turn away from her embrace, or to stop himself from scent marking the opposite side of your neck from the one his twin had claimed, laying his own personal stamp with the faint hope it would remind you to come back for them. However, no matter what you’d said, he couldn’t bring himself to hope. He knew hoping would only lead to more disappointment, and he wasn’t like Atsumu he wouldn’t be able to bounce back from it.

Not that his twin was making it easy on him. His brother’s hope was so fierce it was almost painful and he could feel the slightly desperate edge to it. He’d gotten attached to her, not that he could blame him, he was more attached than he wanted to be too. However unlike him, Atsumu had fill faith you were coming back, so much so he’d actually packed up his room into the bags they’d brought from his old place and was ready to go.

Nothing Osamu or any of the others, who also seemed to understand how small the chance was that she’d come back for them, said could sway him. The moment it had passed three o’clock Atsumu had brought hjs bags out to the shared living area and began to sit vigil, waiting for her to come back.

Stubborn as ever his twin had ignored all the pitying looks sent his way and the fact that slowly but surely time had slipped by, leaving just half an hour until they were supposed to close. Though his face was resolute, his brother wasn’t actually stupid and Osamu knew it was only stubborn pride keeping him in place. He could feel the slow onset of his twin’s hurt and despair as each minute ticked down.

He’d contemplated leaving him, going to his own room to wallow, but he knew he could never abandon his twin. They’d been through everything together, and he certainly wasn’t going to leave him now.

He was trying to figure out if he could coax his brother into leaving his post when the door swung open, revealing Sugawara, who had a wide beaming smile on his face. His fellow silver hybrid cast a quick glance behind him before ushering his follower into the room.

He barely caught a glimpse of her before his brother practically launched himself at her, but it was enough to freeze him in his place, because it was her. She’d actually come back after all.

His brother had wrapped himself around her, burying his face in her neck and clinging to her like favorite a stuffed toy, not that she seemed to mind, if the hands she was running over his hair and back meant anything. He couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, the words too quiet to hear over the sudden near painful hope and the rapid beat of his own heart at the thought that she’d come for them.

Atsumu’s joy was practically burning through him, combined with his restored faith and smug satisfaction that he’d been right all along about her coming back for them. It probably should’ve annoyed him, but he found that all he could really feel was a bone deep sort of relief.

“Where’s your brother?” she asked, as she finally managed to gently extract herself a bit from his twin’s embrace, though he noticed he didn’t let go entirely, one of his hands laced firmly with hers.

He immediately stood, letting himself fall back into his more human skin as he made his way toward them, not waiting for his brother to out him. She seemed to spot him immediately and the relieved smile on her face was enough to make his traitorous heart skip a beat.

“Osamu,” she greeted warmly, more warmly than he thought he’d ever been greeted by anyone before as she opened her free arm in an inviting gesture. It was maybe a little pathetic how readily he accepted that embrace, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, as he fell into her hold, face automatically nuzzling against the side of her neck that Atsumu had left unclaimed. A rumbling purr left his lips as he felt her press her face against his affectionately, as he allowed himself to cling to her for a bit.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she murmured to him quietly, her arm squeezing affectionately around his waist, genuine regret in her tone, “My boss made me stay a little longer than usual, and then there was an accident on the freeway. I called ahead though and Sugawara has almost all the paperwork done. I just need to collect the two of you, do some signing and we’ll go home okay?”

“Really? Yer takin’ us home?” he almost didn’t recognize his own voice given how weak it sounded, the quaver in it making him feel utterly ridiculous and overly emotional, something that was supposed to be his twin’s job, and frustrated him enough that he bit his lip nearly hard enough to bleed as he wrestled with himself, trying to get back in control of his emotions.

“Yeah, as long as you want to come, then I’ll gladly take you,” she offered with a gentle smile that made his heart squeeze nearly painfully in his chest, “Though there’s something I need to admit to first.”

He froze a little at that, staring at her anxiously as Atsumu also looked on, his blabbermouth brother finally silent and clearly wary. She carefully released him, though she still reached for his hand, peering between the two of them, anxious but also obviously determined. He allowed her to grasp her fingers, squeezing them automatically, anxiety making his heartrate skyrocket and bile rise in his throat.

“I asked the center about your previous owner,” she confessed, the words automatically making his heart drop, as he wondered numbly what they could’ve told her. Had she asked for the details? Was she afraid now? Had she changed her mind or decided to add some stipulations to their adoption?”

“I didn’t ask for details,” she clarified, her voice managing to cut through the haze of panic that had been rising in his chest, “All I asked was if they thought whatever had happened with your previous owner would cause trouble for me, or put any of us in any sort of danger.”

That didn’t actually sound so bad, and was even fairly reasonable the storm of hurt and anger that had been building behind his anxiety slowly dispersing the more he thought about it. He noticed that his grip on her hand had loosened a bit, and he retightened his hold, hoping the center had responded in a way that reassured her. Given that she was here, talking to them, he thought it wasn’t unreasonable to be hopeful.

“They said none of us would be in any danger, otherwise they never would’ve offered to take you both in, in the first place, and that they were sure you’d be alright with me,” she explained, her hand gently squeezing his in return.

He wasn’t sure if the bone deep relief he felt was his or his brother’s but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too caught up in the surging hope that followed it as she asked, “So, even knowing that I asked that, are the two of you still willing to come home with me?”

“O course we want to go with ya, right Samu?” his brother replied instantly, nuzzling into her neck insistently, clearly begging for attention, attention she seemed more than willing to give if the affectionate smile on her face was any indication. When she looked at him for confirmation all he could do was nod in agreement, unable to find the words for how very much he did want it and unwilling to sound ridiculous again.

The next half hour passed in a strange almost dream like haze, as he packed himself up, his smug brother clinging to her and gloating over how he was already finished, soaking up her attention as he made a mental note to get back at his annoying twin later. Once he finished packing all there really was, was a couple of signatures before he found himself in a nice car that was speeding along the highway.

Atsumu was chatting away in the front seat, practically bouncing as he asked their amused new owner anything that popped into his head as he tried to digest what had happened. Somehow, someway, they had an owner again.

You smiled to yourself as you listened to Atsumu babble away happily in the seat next to you. The golden furred twin hadn’t stopped bouncing since you’d showed up at the shelter, clearly over the moon that you’d come back for him. Osamu was quiet in the back seat, and you might’ve been worried he was happy to come with you if not for the way he’d scent marked you, almost frantically his hand clutched tightly to yours as you’d signed the paperwork to take them home.

It was pretty clear both twins had thought you weren’t coming back for them, and it had broken your heart a bit, and made you even more resolute that you’d done the right thing for all of you. You’d been anxious the whole day to get back to them, not nearly as focused on work as you probably should’ve been, which had been part of the reason for your delay in the first place.

You’d panicked more than a bit when you’d encountered the accident on the way there, afraid that you’d break your promise to the twins. It had only been Sugawara’s kind voice, assuring you that he’d start the paperwork while you drove and even stay open late if necessary for you to get there, that had kept your guilt and panic at bay.

Now that you had them with you weren’t quite sure how you felt. Dazed that it was actually happening, excited for what the future might bring, and a little anxious about all the changes you’d have to make in your life even as you looked forward to those changes more than anything.

However, before you headed for home there were a couple things you needed to do first. Luckily you would hopefully find everything you needed in one place, at least for today. You wanted to give them time to settle in a bit, more shopping could come later when they’d decided what they needed.

“Where’s this?” Atsumu asked, pausing in his excited babble to look at you with confusion, as you pulled into the large parking lot, “Ya don’t live here do ya?”

“Don’t be stupid,” his brother huffed from the backseat, “Yer gonna make her think we’re some kind of bumpkins, ya know what a mall is Tsumu.”

“O course I know what a mall is,” Atsumu blustered, twisting around in his seat to glare at his twin, “I just thought maybe she had an apartment nearby is all. Who knows how rich people live?”

You huffed in amusement, reaching out without thought to ruffle his ears affectionately. The golden haired hybrid froze for a minute under your touch, and you wondered if you’d done something wrong, freezing as well, before a rumbling purr left his chest as he pressed his head further into your hand.

“You’re too cute,” you murmured almost to yourself as you gently scratched his ears and stroked your hand over his face and neck, unable to keep the smile from your lips.

“We’re only stopped here for a quick couple errands,” you explained to both twins, reluctantly pulling away from Atsumu who offered a pout but didn’t protest, “I noticed you don’t have as much as I thought you would, and I want to get you more comfortable collars to wear when we’re in public.”

Both twins hands immediately flew to the simple brown leather bands around their necks. All hybrids were required to wear collars in public to identify them as belonging to someone. The collars had a tag on them, which was essentially a small chip that had all their owner’s information in it, that when scanned would tell someone how to get in contact with their owner. It was to ensure they behaved and that if they didn’t their owner could be forced to take responsibility for their actions. Any hybrid who walked around without a collar immediately had the police called and was brought in and held until they could figure out why they were without.

You’d heard horror stories about the way such hybrids were treated, innocent hybrids who’d accidentally lost a collar somewhere and been so traumatized when they were finally returned to their owners that they were never the same again. Which of course was why you were determined it was never going to happen to your twins, even if a part of you balked at the idea of putting a symbol of ownership on another sentient being. Judging from the looks on their faces, Atsumu’s much easier to read than Osamu’s they’d heard stories too, and neither of them bothered to protest.

“Come on,” you urged gently, climbing out of the car yourself, “The sooner we get the unpleasant stuff done the sooner we get to the good stuff. I’ve got a couple things in mind I’d like to get you both as welcome home presents, but if there’s anything else you think you want or need feel free to ask.”

“Presents?” Atsumu asked eagerly, practically bounding out of the car.

“That’s right,” you agreed with a small laugh, watching him sulk a bit as he realized his brother had beaten him in securing your free hand, Osamu’s fingers laced with your own and a smug smirk on the silver hybrid’s face, “So keep close and let’s get going okay?”

Luckily the mall wasn’t too crowded, and while the twins got more then their fair share of admiring looks, doubtless both because of how good looking they were and how rare twin hybrids in general were, no one actually dared to approach your group, even as Atsumu practically bounced around glancing around the mall in fascination and reminding you more of an eager puppy than a supposedly slightly older cat hybrid.

Osamu was much more dignified and kept close to your side, though judging from his wide-eyed look that he couldn’t quite hide behind his stoic façade he was just as in awe as his brother. You were starting to get an impression of their previous owner and it was far from good.

You’d known that some owners kept their hybrids close to home, either because they were overly protective or possessive, and it had always rubbed you the wrong way. Ojirou had always allowed Kita and Suna to do as they pleased for the most part, treating them as capable adults and equals, more like roommates than the pets some treated their hybrids as and his was the example you were going to strive to follow.

It was why your errands today were so important, because while you would happily have let your twin hybrids run around as they pleased dressed however they pleased a collar was unfortunately the one thing they couldn’t be without, especially if they were going to go outside without you.

Luckily the mall was outfitted with several hybrid specialty stores and it didn’t take you long to find one dedicated entirely to collars. Both twins were a little wide eyed at the selection, and neither seemed to know quite what to say as you roamed through the aisles together looking at the selection.

Several of them made you grimace in outright distaste, the collars boasting accessories like inward facing spikes or tracking devices that would alert the owner if the hybrid tried to leave their home. It made you feel a little sick to your stomach, so you instead turned to the less intrusive ones.

“Do you see anything you like?” you asked the twins, squeezing Osamu’s hand affectionately, “You don’t have to wear collars in the house if you don’t want to, but you’re going to need them if you want to leave when I’m not home, which means you’ll probably be wearing them a lot, so make sure to pick something you like. You can even pick a couple if you want it to match your outfit for the day or whatever I don’t mind spending a little more to get a handful of chips programmed.”

Both twins blinked at you owlishly clearly startled by the offer, which made your heart hurt for them, even as they hesitantly turned back toward the displays, looking more closely than they had before.

“Do ya have any restrictions?” Osamu asked bluntly, not quite looking at you as he eyed a display of thick leather ones that didn’t look comfortable in the slightest.

“No,” you assured him, “I’m not the one who has to wear it.”

Osamu nodded slowly, and seemed to be taking his time as he perused the collars. You let him do as he liked, allowing him to lead. You’d only loosened your hold on him once, thinking he may like to wander the store like his brother and not have to tow you along with him, but the way his hand had reflexively tightened on yours in response had put paid to that assumption and you’d immediately re-laced your fingers together.

In the end Atsumu approached you first, holding a collar out to you hopefully. It actually looked like it was meant more for a dog hybrid, thick black leather with steel spikes on it, making it look fairly fierce. Personally you thought it was gaudy and was probably going to be uncomfortable, but you tried not to let your distaste show, after all you’d said anything they wanted and you’d meant it. Luckily in the end you didn’t need to say anything.

“What the hell is that?” Osamu demanded when he caught sight of the collar in his brother’s hands, the disgusted look on his face letting you know his feelings quite clearly.

“It’s a collar scrub, what else would it be?” Atsumu replied with a sneer for his twin you were beginning to think was automatic.

“I’m not the scrub you are,” the silver twin sneered, “Because only a scrub would wear somethin’ like that.”

“Oy,” Atsumu interjected, with a fierce glare, “She said we could have what we wanted.”

“Yeah but she probably thought ya had some sort of taste, she doesn’t know you well enough to know how scrubby ya are scrub,” Osamu hissed back.

“Alright guys,” you interjected gently, squeezing Osamu’s hand and reaching out to gently ruffle Atsumu’s ears, aware of the eyes of the cashier which had definitely turned in your direction given the twins were getting louder and louder by the second, “Let’s try to keep it to polite volume levels in public hmm?”

“Sorry,” both twins grumbled, identical pouts on their faces that made you giggle.

“It’s alright,” you assured them fondly, “Just try to be good okay?”

They nodded though Osamu clearly needed to get the last word in as he turned to you with pleading eyes, “Ya think it’s an abomination too don’t ya?”

“I said you could have whatever you wanted,” you told him diplomatically, “If this is what Atsumu likes, then of course he can have it.”

“Ha, see!” Osamu demanded of his twin, clearly seeing right through your attempt at diplomacy, “She thinks it’s ugly too!”

“Do ya really think it’s ugly?” Atsumu asked you sulkily eyeing the collar in his hands.

You’d known before that you were weak to pleading eyes, but it turned out you were even more weak to the pleading copper eyes of your hybrid, the thought that he might be sad tugging at your heartstrings.

“I just worry you’ll be uncomfortable,” you assured him, letting go of Osamu’s hand and gently cupping his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along his cheeks affectionately, the same way you did for one of the hybrids that occasionally came to your office to sulk when his owner brought him to work but didn’t pay attention to him.

Atsumu immediately leaned into your palms, heavy lidded eyes half-shut with bliss as you explained, “It’s summer right now, and there’s no padding so it will be hot, heavy and probably chafe. Plus didn’t you say you wanted to play volleyball? Won’t it get in the way? I can definitely get it for you if you like it, but maybe pick something else too, okay?”

“Kay,” your golden twin agreed, sounding completely and utterly content as he nuzzled into your hands, making your heart melt in your chest.

“What about this one?” Osamu offered, pulling your attention away from his brother.

He was holding a collar in his hands, one that actually looked more like a necklace a thin but sturdy looking cord of leather fastened with a silver chain in the front that clasped on both ends to a silver hoop that suspended a solid silver disc in the middle that on close inspection revealed that it housed the chip needed for identification.

“That looks really nice,” you praised, letting out a breath of relief at his choice. You weren’t a big fan of the collars in general, but seeing it look more like a necklace made it seem far more tolerable. Plus it was black and silver and thus would probably go with just about anything he chose to wear.

Letting go of Atsumu to take the collar from his twin, you completely missed the smug smirk directed over your shoulder by Osamu as you inspected it, though Atsumu certainly didn’t, giving his twin an annoyed glare above your head.

In the end, while Atsumu sulked and complained about it, he did actually put the original collar he’d offered back and go with Osamu’s choice, even though you offered to get him both. He refused, sulking slightly all the while, but remained insistent that he only needed the one, even though you ended up buying four collars total, so you could have two back-ups. Though he did insist on holding your hand to make up for the disappointment.

Luckily the manager didn’t seem to mind having to program all four collars, tapping away at the computer, while Atsumu sulked a bit by your side and Osamu somehow managed to all but radiate smug superiority. The cashier carefully ringing up your purchases for you as you pulled your wallet out.

“A word of advice?” the cashier offered as you waited for the programmed collars, surprising you with his forwardness.

“You’re too indulgent with them,” he continued on, not giving you the chance to refute the need for him to speak, “Hybrid’s need a firm hand. You’ll spoil them if you let them get away with raising their voices in public and causing a scene. Don’t ever let them forget their place.”

You felt more than saw both twins bristle on either side of you, and gently squeezed Atsumu’s hand, before laying your hand over the back of Osamu’s neck. You wouldn’t care a bit if they wanted to verbally eviscerate the man who was eying them with clear distaste, a distaste you were almost sure stemmed from jealousy given the lascivious looks he probably thought you hadn’t noticed levelled in your direction. Unfortunately, you also didn’t want them to get into trouble, and weren’t quite sure what the law said about how hybrids were allowed to defend themselves from humans, something you planned to rectify as soon as possible.

For now however you weren’t about to let the twins get in trouble and cut in your tone as cold as you could make it, “I don’t remember asking for your opinion, nor do I care about what you think in the least. I’ll treat them how I want to treat them, which means I’ll spoil and pamper them as much as I like. I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself in the future if you want to keep this business running. As it is I’ll be sending my complaint to your superiors. Let’s go guys, we can find other collars elsewhere. It’s not like they’re hard to find.”

“Wait! The chips are already programmed and you haven’t paid,” the manager protested, standing up from the computer looking utterly appalled.

“Should’ve thought of that before your employee opened his mouth, and decided to spew his unwanted bile everywhere,” you countered with a shrug, “I’d consider finding better employees in the future if I were you, or at least teach them to keep their mouths shut.”

“But the chips can’t be removed from these collars, they’ll be completely ruined,” the manager put in, sounding more than a bit despairing.

“I’m sorry,” you told her, feeling genuinely bad for the woman, after all it wasn’t her fault the other employee was an ass, “But that’s not my problem. I refuse to support any sort of business that would treat its customers like this.”

The glare she leveled on her fellow employee was utterly ferocious and had him cowering back in his seat. Not that you could blame her for being upset, each collar was about three hundred USD so the sale they were losing out on was enormous.

“I can offer you a discount?” she tried hopefully, “Fifty percent off?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully, but didn’t reply instead turning to look at the twins who’d clearly been more than ready to follow you out of the store, “What do you think?”

“Us?” Atsumu asked, clearly baffled.

“Yes, you,” you told him with a fond smile, “You’re the ones who got insulted, not me, and they’re your collars. I’m happy to buy you whatever you like from wherever you want it, whether that’s here or somewhere else.”

“Seventy-five percent off,” Osamu bargained from her other side, taking you by surprise. You turned to see him watching the manager with shrewd eyes, and when it looked like she would protest he added in, “Seventy-five percent off and we won’t leave bad reviews on every site we can or send letters of complaint to upper management.”

“Agreed,” the manager huffed, shooting another vicious look at her employee, one that clearly read that it would be coming out of his salary.

You huffed, amused at Osamu’s bargaining, gently massaging your thumb against the base of his neck affectionately before releasing both twins and moving to pay, only spending a quarter of what you’d originally planned.

“Nice work,” you praised the silver hybrid once the three of you were out of the store and out of earshot.

Osamu shot you a sly smirk, looking exceedingly pleased with himself as he walked beside you. Atsumu had claimed your hand this time, so he was carrying the bags, though it didn’t seem to bother him in the least.

“Now that, that’s taken care of, let’s go grab your gifts,” you told the twins, tugging them along to the PineApple store.

“Presents?” Atsumu asked eagerly, practically bounding along beside you, your intertwined hands swinging back and forth between you.

Laughing you simply pulled him with you into the store. Both twins were wide-eyed as you browsed through, clearly unused to the cutting edge technology on display, both of them exceedingly cautious with the expensive looking tech. It took some gentle urging, but eventually you managed to get phones and laptops picked out for each of them.

“Isn’t this too much,” Osamu asked you in an undertone, clearly worried as an employee walked Atsumu through getting his laptop set up. It turned out that of the twins Osamu was definitely more technically savvy and loved his new laptop, though Atsumu had already managed to download several apps and games on to his phone and was thoroughly enjoying them as well, “It’s expensive.”

“I have the money,” you assured him gently, “And besides, everyone has a phone these days. I want you guys to have them in case you get in trouble when I’m not home and need to reach me, like if you got lost or hurt or simply need a human to ensure you’re treated fairly. I’d feel awful if you needed me and I didn’t know.”

“The laptops are so you don’t get too bored at home, though I hope you’ll find things to enjoy outside the apartment too,” you continued, absently stroking your hand up and down his back.

“Will you be wanting hybrid trackers in the new phones?” the employee asked, her voice professional as she began to ring up your purchases.

You hesitated. On one hand you hated the idea of invading the twins privacy, and on the other you knew that you fully intended to let them roam as they pleased so wouldn’t it be better to have the tracker just in case? A quick glance showed that Osamu was impassive as ever, and even Atsumu just looked bored, not paying any attention whatsoever, instead tapping away at his new phone.

“What do you think?” you asked them, more than willing to hear their opinions on the matter.

“You’re the owner,” Osamu told her, apparently speaking for both of them as he gave an unconcerned shrug, which wasn’t helpful in the least.

You grimaced a bit trying to think of a compromise before finally pulling out your own phone and asking the employee, “Is there anyway to ensure all three of the phones will track each other?”

“Let me go ask,” she told you politely, turning away to go grab someone more knowledgeable.

“That’s fair right?” you asked hesitantly, “This way you know where I am too and can come find me if you need me.”

“Yeah,” Osamu agreed, giving you a look that you thought might be something as close to awe as you’d seen on the silver haired hybrid, “Yeah that’s fair.”

The employee quickly returned and confirmed they could indeed make all three phones track one another, and in the span of a few minutes managed to get your purchases complete. Feeling like that was probably enough for now, you led them back towards the car.

It was starting to get pretty late, and the minute you’d exited the mall Osamu’s stomach had given a loud rumbling growl. Atsumu had made fun of him for all of a minute, before his own stomach betrayed him. You’d shaken your head at their antics, but allowed a surprisingly eager Osamu to order whatever he wanted for carryout from the Chinese place near your apartment.

One quick stop for the food, and you finally managed to bring your new hybrids home. Both of them were a little quiet as you led them up to your apartment, staring around and clearly taking everything in. Either Ojirou, Kita and Suna weren’t home, or they’d decided to give you time to settle with the twins as they didn’t emerge from their apartment as you arrived in the hallway and fumbled the door open.

“Here we are,” you told them, hitting the lights, “Home sweet home.”

Both twins were laden with things, carrying their purchases, the food, and their things from the adoption center. Still looking at them was enough to make your heart clench. It had only taken one trip to bring everything up, but despite hybrids being stronger than normal humans it still made your heart clench to see how very little the twins actually had. Each of them only had a medium sized suitcase of things, and Atsumu had a worn volleyball but that was it aside from the things you’d bought them. It was something you were determined to fix for the future, but for now you’d make do.

“I know you’re hungry, so unless you want to settle in for a bit first we can eat and then I’ll show you around,” you offered.

The twins exchanged looks, but nodded in clear agreement. You pointed out the bathroom just in case, but then brought them to the kitchen, trying to show them where everything was as you pulled utensils from the drawers. Osamu clearly paid much more attention to her explanations than Atsumu did, though both diligently helped her set the table.

The food was really good, and thankfully sparked more conversation, even if it was more subdued than earlier, all of them worn out from the long day they’d had. Osamu was clearly very interested in food, and not just in eating it the way his brother was. You managed to coax out that he’d cooked for their previous owner from time to time, and told him that as long as he was careful he was more than free to use her kitchen and anything in it for whatever he wanted earning what felt like her first real smile from the silver haired twin.

Despite how tired they clearly were, both twins helped you clean up. For the first time since you’d first discovered the lovely little Chinese restaurant there weren’t actually any leftovers, the twins having consumed everything you said you didn’t want. As they worked you noted it really was kind of nice, even if things were quiet, to have the company as they went about their tasks.

“Alright, so I wasn’t sure if you’d want your own rooms or if you’d want to share,” you told them, gesturing for them to follow, “We’re going to have to do some shopping either way, since they’re your rooms and I want you to be able to personalize them any way you want, but I think they’re pretty equal in size.”

The twins stared at you, clearly surprised, glancing at each other, to the rooms you’d offered, to you, and back again, the gesture making her more than a bit nervous. You’d thought there was plenty of space for the two of them, but maybe they didn’t see it that way?

“We get our own rooms?” Atsumu asked at last, finally breaking the silence, his voice quiet and disbelieving, copper eyes huge in his face.

“If you want them, then of course they’re yours,” you assured him, concerned, “I still have to clean out my study, but I didn’t want to delay adopting you and I don’t think it will take too long. There’s a pull out futon in there, though you’re more than free to share if you want a bed, or I can take the futon and one of you can have my bed for now. I’ve certainly slept on the futon before and I don’t mind.”

“You’d give up your bed?” Osamu repeated, looking like you’d just smacked him over the head with a fish, more surprise on his face then you’d thought him capable of showing.

“Just until we find something for you,” you told him, a little puzzled at his surprise but with the sinking feeling that your suspicions about their former owner were correct.

“But, why?” Atsumu asked you, wide eyed and a little teary.

“Because, you’re mine now,” you assured him, unable to quite find the words you wanted to say, but hoping you were conveying your feelings at the very least, “And I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe and happy.”

The sad mewling sound he made in response to your words was enough to break your heart, as he pitched forward squeezing you into his chest and burying his face in your shoulder. You pressed your cheek to his hair, rubbing his back soothingly with one arm even as you automatically opened the other one for his twin, a gesture that was slowly becoming more and more familiar to you.

Osamu didn’t sob the way his twin did, but the way he squeezed you tight let you know he was just as moved as Atsumu even if he was quieter about it. Seeing their genuine gratitude for what you felt was common courtesy broke your heart, but even as it ached and you did your best to soothe them you swore to yourself, to love and care for your new hybrids so they’d never want for anything ever again to be the best owner it was possible to be after all they deserved nothing less.

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Postcards From: Kanazawa | Tsukishima Kei

Synopsis: The fear that comes with love is the realization that it isn't always just light. Love, rediscovered as both the fear and the drive that depicts the push and pull of whether it's worth it to say "I do," if the unknown is what's to come beyond the vow. In which it's a week until the wedding, and the both of you return to Kanazawa--to day one--as strangers.

Characters: Tsukishima Kei

Genre/Tags: Engagement!AU, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending | WC: 10,200+

A/N: this is a piece commed by @tsukishumai​ ;w; tq for trusting me w u and ur bb boi ily to the moon n back

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The illusion of the soul is the false belief that love must always—always—be just light.

The truth is, it’s not. Love is many things. Primarily, love begins from desire. Then, that desire seeps into a drive that pushes you to keep wanting. Then finally, when it’s seeped in through the skin deep enough, love pools in the soul.

Love is bound to be raw at the very core. A desire. To say, “I want you,” and think it holds as much credibility as “I love you.”  To look at what you know is only the tendrils of something at the very most, and trick yourself into thinking that it’s enough. A beating heart—bloody red. The line just barely hanging in-between what’s selfish and selfless, before it ultimately sways and becomes selfish sometimes.

Sometimes, being right now, Tsukishima thinks.  

Sandwiched in-between you to the left, and Yamaguchi to his right, he finds his eyes flickering towards the clock a lot more often than he would have liked. Akaashi, who sat across from his seat on the table, was the first to catch on.  

He quirked a brow, presumably in question earlier, and mouthed the question if he was in a rush. Tsukishima’s never been known for having too many words, but because Akaashi pauses and insists to relieve his question with an answer, he shrugs, waving him off and mouthing back that he’s alright.  

“So,” Bokuto starts, his voice already slipping into somewhat of a slur. “How’s it feel to be the first to pop the question?”

You laugh, finding amusement in the man’s enthusiasm. Turning to Tsukishima, you sit and wait, expectant of a reaction.  

In response, he just shrugs, but a smile breaks through and redefines the nonchalance of his expression anyway. Raising the glass to his lips, he takes a quick sip before answering smugly, “It’s nice to finally settle down. You should try it sometimes.”

Bokuto waves him off, cheeks flushed and eyes already drooping from the inebriation. “Nah,” he slurs, shaking his head. The exaggeration warrants a quick laugh from Sugawara, who sits on the other side, nursing his own drink. Continuing, Bokuto huffs and takes a slight pause before he connects the last of what he says with, “—getting married is nice and all, but I don’t know, man,” he laughs. “Just feels like I’ll end up hitting a fucking blank space after I do or whatever. Not my vibe.”

Visibly, Tsukishima shifts a little, the smile on his face maintained but the lighthearted energy that earlier fueled it just slightly more drained now.  

From the corner of your eye, you notice it. Though, Akaashi’s the one who gives him a pointed stare, to which the former simply ignores.  

“But—“ Bokuto continues, as if trying to remedy the cracked part of the atmosphere that isn’t even visible in the first place—“If that’s your thing, then I’m obviously not going to judge you for that.”

Tsukishima responds by his silence. Bokuto, with his head still warped around the heavy state of his inebriation, doesn’t do so much other than sip a little more of his barely filled glass of beer, Tsukishima’s apathetic expression just a blur in his eyes now.  

“You seem happy, though,” Bokuto notes, then raises his glass towards you.

Blinking at being the sudden subject of his interest, you raise your own glass of water. The ice inside shifts, clinking against the sides of the glass, and slowly, Tsukishima watches. There’s familiarity in the way it moves down: trickling slow like the patience inside him that’s suddenly running by the clock. His palms just barely gripping the utensils, clammy. While his head, still whirs at Bokuto’s halfhearted words.  

It’s halfhearted, he reminds himself.

The thought of hitting a plateau after “I do,” in a way is terrifying.  

But he is happy, right?

The way his palms respond solely through tensing suddenly spikes the fear that maybe his ring will slip. So he looks at you, trying to find an anchor to keep the love he pushes to stay intertwined with his truth afloat as he responds, “Of course I am. I’m happy.”

You look back at him, eye to eye, though you find something waver just for a split second— wondering if there’s credibility in the saying that gold will always deliver truth.

-

The rest of the night flows easy.  

Almost naturally, he’s quick to wave off Bokuto’s invite for more drinks at the bar just down the street, tugging your interlaced hands towards the parking lot as soon as the group found its way to the exit.  

“You know he probably just wanted more company,” you laugh. Thirty minutes after making it back home, instead of jumping straight into the shower and getting ready for the night routine, you instead take out the suitcase and take your place, seated on the floor in the living room.  

“We needed to pack,” you hear him respond, his voice a little distant from the bedroom down the hall.  

You shrug. “Yeah, but we could have made time.”

“Sometimes we can’t just make things, if we don’t have any to make it with in the first place,” he sighs.

You chuckle. Perhaps it’s just one of those nights again. In the ten years you’ve known Tsukishima Kei, you found that he had a tendency to become a multitude of things.  

A stranger, at the start, because that’s where every connection begins. The neighbor who lived with his grandfather across the street from your childhood home. Kanazawa was a long way from Sendai, but before his parents had whisked him off to Miyagi some years later, he had been the friend that oftentimes spent his afternoons with you.  

Strawberry cake and tiny sips of boxed juice from the convenient store down the street, and not much conversation exchanged between the both of you. He’d tell you about the things on his grandfather’s old encyclopedia, and you’d listen with rapt attention, finding it nice how he seemed to carry a little bit of the stars the more his eyes gleamed. He just talked about dinosaurs, you remember. At ten, Tsukishima had always been a wonderer.  

Then he moved.  

From the friend who told you stories and shared his juice boxes with you under that tree, to the occasional email that would pop up on your phone, when you were in highschool and weaving your way in and out of pathways and dead-ends. Miyagi was a little like Kanazawa, he said. There was a lot of quiet in the two cities. His email would come once a week, then twice when you reckon he felt a little lonely.  

You’d reply with the same kind of enthusiasm as he had established, though you still couldn’t deny the fact that the notification with his name on it never failed to have you smiling—at least just a little bit. At fifteen, Tsukishima was far from a stranger, but he was also falling just a little short in making it to the halfway mark of being a friend too.  

The once-a-week emails were welcome, none the less. It stayed like that, until once a week turned into twice. Though most were just the customary how-are-yous and obligatory holiday greetings once the seasons came and went, one year it turned into emails about the little nothings.  

‘I had strawberry cake today,’ it once read. ‘The one we used to share tasted sweeter.’

‘I joined the volleyball team.’

‘Winter here is a little colder. I remember your puffy green jacket.’

‘I don’t know if you want to know…or if I should tell you...but our team won, and we’re going to nationals.’

Somehow, you were managed to be convinced by one of your friends that same week to travel with your own highschool’s volleyball team to assist in the preparation for nationals in Tokyo. It was just a coincidence, you used to reason. You were there, and so was he. There was a hundred other courts his team could have played at, and your priority was assisting your own team in what they needed.  

But still, you couldn’t help but wave back and cheer the loudest from your stands when he perfected the block and scored the winning point for the first set.

It was then, where you realized that perhaps Tsukishima Kei wouldn’t just be a stranger.  

Kanazawa to Miyagi, but somehow Tokyo became the in-between. Childhood friends to the sort-of friends from the other ends of the country sharing a few scattered memories in slices of strawberry shortcake and random dinosaur trivia from an old man’s outdated encyclopedia.  

He was the first to approach you after that match. A hand held out to shake, perhaps to commemorate the evident shift between strangers to friends—but it was nice.  

Because after that, friends turned into something more.  

Maybe Tokyo really was the middle ground. After you graduated and moved out of your respective cities, Tokyo became the third place of hello.  

Then things just slipped into place. He was here, and so were you. He had plans to stay, and you just signed the contract that bound you to the city for the next two and a half years. The apartment right down the hall from yours was recently vacated, and he was looking for a place to stay.  

His new work place, coincidentally enough, was just a stop away from the train station closest to your place.  

You had always doubted the presence of serendipity and everything that had to dictate with the celestial control of fate, but the ease that came with the relief of him signing the lease the very next week almost seemed to validate what had been just a farfetched something.  

From strangers, to friends, to lovers, then to this:

Ten years later, a ring on your finger, and an I do, bound to be said just a little over seven days from now.  

Tokyo was kind to the both of you. His mother’s close enough to visit on the weekends, while Kanazawa was just a shinkansen away from Tokyo station. A new apartment with enough space for two, plus maybe an extra, and a bakery right down the street with the best strawberry shortcake made fresh every day.  

The wedding’s just a week away. His grandfather, still living in Kanazawa was meant to travel with Akiteru to Tokyo last week, but because plans changed, the both of you were instead tasked with going there yourselves to travel with him. While Tsukishima hesitated, you didn’t. Yes was easy to say in a situation like this. Though your parents had moved to Tokyo some years ago, you were aware that his grandfather didn’t.  

The house across the street was still his, while the one you grew up in just now became a summer home your family would frequent to when Tokyo became too swarmed with tourists.  

You look at the half-filled contents of the suit case on the floor in front of you. The right side’s meant to hold your clothes, while the left was left bare for Tsukishima’s. You turn and look at him.  

“You can just grab the stuff you need me to bring for you and I’ll fold it in. We should probably catch the first train tomorrow if we wanna get there before sundown.”

What comes as a reply is only prolonged silence.  

You let what he started stay for a little, but because you had never been the type to be fond in gouging out answers from the blank spaces, you sigh, and break the impending silence before it could get a chance to even settle. “You’re quiet again, Kei.”

When he makes it to the living room, instead of coming back out with a stack of clothes, he stands by the wall with his hands in his pocket. His eyes shift from wall to wall, but skip over you.  

Knowing that you’ll just prompt another conversation again the more he keeps his silence, he sighs, swallowing the hesitation and clinging onto the bits of courage that floats by him in the moment. Grasping at the very tips of it, he forces the words out of his mouth. “Are you really coming with me?”

You raise a brow. “Back to Kanazawa? Of course. I’m from there too, you know. Plus I haven’t seen Grandpa in a while.”

He shifts his gaze to the side, thankful for the blur that came with forgetting to slip on his glasses. He’s always had a tendency to give in the moment he looks at you, so the vagueness in the blur was a welcome change. “It’s just for a week,” he mutters. “I think I’ll handle the trip just fine.”

“Plus,” he adds, the hike in the tone of his voice giving away his panic. “—I heard there was a problem with the florists? Maybe one of us needs to go in and fix it ourselves just in case.”  

In the ten years you’ve known him, you’ve always considered it a given that you’ve well perceived him by now. In front of you, he’s stammering. While Tsukishima has never been the face to poise and perfection—because at the end of the day he still is just a boy—you knew he only stammered when he was nervous.  

Perhaps trying to manipulate the situation through a wordless exchange was his way of doing so. In your head, you chuckle. Tsukishima Kei is many things, and is witty when it counts—but he could never be blunt when it came to the things he was unsure of.  

You try to gouge out his truth. Speaking straight to the point, you let him know that there’s no purpose in trying to skirt around. You turn to him, his sweater half folded on your lap. “You know I could have believed what you just said, but,” you pause, giving him a pointed look, “—you’re not even looking at me.”

“Is this about what Bokuto said earlier?”

The way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly, confirms your suspicions that that it is about that, before he can muster up the courage to even say it. “Tell me,” you initiate. You’ve never been afraid to speak what needs to be said. “What’s got you so afraid?”

Once more, he hopes for the silence to speak for him. And like before—it doesn’t. Silence was never meant to fill in the blanks. What it did, rather, is add three seconds more on the clock that’s ticking regardless. Tsukishima bets on a timed clock to speak for him, and because you’ve never been the type to shrink at the presence of raw truth, you huff and poke into what obviously hits for him just a little deeper.  

“You’re afraid we’ll hit a blank space after we get married, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t look away, but little by little, his body language starts slipping bits and pieces of the truth you’ve already long sensed. “I think I just need to think this through.”

“What?” you scoff. “You planned to go to Kanazawa by yourself for a week to what? Soul search? To decide if you even wanna marry me?”

“I’m sor—“

“That’s what you’re not supposed to say,” you interrupt him. “You don’t say you’re sorry for how you’re feeling, because you’re allowed to feel it how it is, but shit, Kei,” you exhale, pausing to suck in a quick breath. “You couldn’t have just said this earlier?”

He looks away again, the guilt evident on his features. “You’re mad.”

“Do you blame me?”

This time, he turns to you. “No,” he murmurs. “I don’t, but I’m gonna be blunt here—“

“—first time—“

He gives you a pointed look, but in the moment, you don’t really have much in you to care too much.  

“I think I need space to clear my head.”

“Sounds like you’re contemplating on whether you wanna stay with me or not,” you respond. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

Tsukishima’s steady, this time. “Of course I wanna stay with you.”

“But,” you counter. “You aren’t sure if you want to marry me.”

He looks away. “What if—we hit a plateau after.”

“That’s still not an excuse to back out before we even try, Kei,” comes your reasoning.  

“You’re right,” he sighs. “It’s not.”

Then it’s you, who shrugs this time, giving in a little and throwing him what you hope he doesn’t see as a lifeline. There’s no comfort found in knowing that an out is a means of mercy when it comes to love. Why should there even be an out?

You settle for just cracking the door open instead. Though it was never locked, the fact that it remained close must have been understood differently by him.

“Let’s go back to Kanazawa separately, then,” you propose. The open suitcase in front of you still has the right half filled with his half folded clothes, so you reach in, taking it out one by one. “You stay with your grandfather and I’ll stay at my parent’s house.”

Tsukishima raises a concern. “He’ll wonder why we aren’t staying together.”

In response, you shrug. “Just make something up then.”

“Is this just a passive aggressive way to say you’re mad at me?”

You scoff. “When have I ever been passive aggressive, Kei? I’ve said shit as it is since day one.”  

He flinches, maybe because of what you said or the tone of the deliverance, but either way, you decide you can’t give much of a shit. It’s a given that you’re angry, but because being hurt just paves the path to silence more than lashing out, it’s not much of a surprise that you probably look deflated in front of him.  

“What I’m saying is,” you explain. “Let’s go back to Kanazawa as strangers. Do what you gotta do, however you’ve gotta do it to get your head sorted out, and then we’ll talk. I’m not dancing around in circles with you on this. Either we get married next week, or we don’t.”

He panics. “I don’t want to lose you—“

“You’re already talking like you’ve decided that you won’t be at the other end of that aisle, Kei.”

Words feel lacking all of a sudden, so you pause. The absence of the split second brevity has Tsukishima standing still, his breath held, throat dry.

But like always, clarity seems to weave its way through the cracks in the room and find you first. “Yes or no isn’t easy to decide between,” you finally mutter. Eyes to the half folded sweaters you meant to tuck into the other half of the suitcase, you realize that you’ll need to switch to a smaller trolley now because you won’t be needing this much space anyway. “I don’t know what I should tell you, because I don’t know that we’d be having a possible fallout a week before the wedding. But at the same time—I don’t want to say you’re despicable for feeling like that, Kei. It just—“

“—fucking sucks,” you sigh.  

“If you feel like you need a week to figure whatever this shit is, then okay,” you nod. “Okay. Let’s be strangers for a week and by the time we’re back in Tokyo, you give me a yes or no and be fucking blunt with it.”

-

Later that night when you turn your back against him and face the wall, his whisper breaks through the quiet. “Why are you still patient with me about this? You could have just left me.”

You shift, laying on your back and sighing to the makeshift glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling of your room. “Because I love you,” you sigh. “Loving someone just means you have to exhaust every other option before even thinking of throwing in the towel.”

He sleeps that night, feeling heavy.

-

He woke up later that morning, feeling the same too.  

In a sense, things admittedly started weird. You woke up before he did this time, when he usually would be the one trying to be quiet when he slipped out of bed. Even though early mornings had never been a thing for the both of you, there was still something unpleasant in waking up to an empty bed.

The sheets on your side were done, and your phone that usually would be pinging with email notifications by now wasn’t there.  

It’s odd, he thinks. While he agreed to be strangers for a week, the walk to the train station was the same. Silence was normal, but the five extra inches that added to the distance between the both of you wasn’t. You nodded his way when he pointed at the shinkansen’s direction, and wordlessly would hand him his usual brew when you stopped at the coffee shop just before going in.  

Seated beside you in the train, he tries to ignore the urge to poke you on the side and make conversation. Words have always come easy when it came to moments with you, he noticed.

Tsukishima’s aware that he’s always been dubbed as the kind of person who never preferred to say too much, and while that was true—to an extent—he realizes that there is some truth to the saying that silence kills.  

You’re seated beside him on the train, eyes to your phone, and earbuds in place. He resorts to just staring at you through his peripherals, caught in between wanting to satiate the want to talk to you by breaking the silence, or keeping it as is.  

This is where fear grips him a little tighter. The deal was, as you had pointed out just last night, that the both of you would move through the week pretending to be strangers again. You’d stay on your side of the street, while he stayed in his.  

It’s a given that his grandfather’s bound to ask about you, and so in the event that it does happen, you would just spend a few hours with them and pretend like everything was fine.  

You made it clear that you’d try to exhaust all the options before resorting to that, though. And it’s easy, he thinks, doing so. It doesn’t take much to fake a phone call from work or a last minute meeting with an old friend that wouldn’t be able to make it to the city for the supposed wedding.  

The lines were drawn, and the outline of what was to be expected in the next week was made clear.  

He thinks of what you said before you slept. Love, as that one drive that has you exhausting all your options before even thinking of quitting. It’s fair, he thinks. You’ve always been the rational thinker in the relationship.  

But then again, he doesn’t doubt your hurt either. A week was lengthy, he realizes, and to act as strangers again just a week before the wedding was a different kind of test when it came to your patience.  

Still, he owes you truth.

You’ve always told him to lay things bare, and even though what’s bare is ugly, because love always pushes to try—he stays, doing just that.  

Undoubtedly, this is a jump. There’s no question in the fact that the possibility of reaching the peak and coming face to face with a plateau scares him. But still, his thoughts counter, to face a drop that doesn’t guarantee a landing somehow terrifies him even more.

The sound of your phone vibrating snaps him out of his thoughts. Before you answer it, he snags a look of the name written on the screen—Akiteru’s.  

Tsukishima sighs, shooting you a cautious stare as you pick up the phone and turn to him.  

The tone of your voice is easy, though you look at him, unbothered. “Hey,” you answer. “Just got in the train, so Kei should be calling you in about three hours when we’re there.”

In comes a pause, before you chuckle a little. Unconsciously, Tsukishima scooches in, curious. But before he could get a chance to lean in too close, you pull away a little, looking at him curiously, an eyebrow raised. “I meant to tell you,” he hears you say, and as you look at him, he chooses to hold your stare.

“Kei and I will be staying separately for the week.”

Beside you, he shifts, fighting the urge to turn away and face forward.  

Assuming that your flinch afterwards was only a response to what he’s only certain is Akiteru’s sudden outburst, the prior nervousness of his stare shifts into concern. Understanding the are-you-okay that he mouths, you wave him off. “We’re fine,” you laugh. “I just miss staying at the house that’s all, and I’m pretty sure Kei wants to spend quality time with his grandfather.”

You stay silent after that, which truth be told, doesn’t exactly help with his nerves.  

“He’s right next to me,” you add. “We’re fine, I swear. Just wanna enjoy Kanazawa in different ways that’s all.”

-

To put it bluntly, the first day is awkward.  

His grandfather’s waiting from outside the gate the second you make it to that familiar street. Nothing much has changed, the two of you notice. The gate’s rusted a little by the edges, and the door’s still got the same chip on the left side he always said he’d take a look at.  

“Heard they were cutting down that tree,” his grandfather says, when it’s a little over three hours later and you’re all seated at a local restaurant for dinner. His old friend owned the place, he explained. Low lights, home cooked meals, and a family run business you vaguely remember your father talking about when you were young.  

Tsukishima pauses, eyebrows rising in question. “What do you mean that tree?”

“The one you used to run off to,” he laughs.  

Elbowing him, you nod towards his grandfather before pointing out, “We met by that tree, you know.”

His grandfather’s quick to responding, laughing at Tsukishima’s perplexed expression. “Seems like your grandfather’s memory is doing better these days than you, boy.”

You suppose that at the end of the day, it shouldn’t have been a big deal that he forgot. You’ve never been one to dwell too deep within the symbolic little nothings that’s bound to come with life. Rationally speaking, maybe you’re just a little miffed because of what he said the night before. And maybe that’s the reason why you’re taking this a little harsher than you would have on a normal day.  

But strangers, you remember. Strangers wouldn’t care if the other forgot.  

So with that, you shrug. You take another spoonful of the food in front of you and shift your body just slightly to the left—to which Tsukishima took noticed—and leaned forward. Without even saying much, his grandfather already has his attention on you, the smile on his face kind.

He’s always been kind, you remember. With a smile, you choose to keep the peace in the room at bay, willing yourself to ignore Tsukishima’s stare boring holes into the side of your head from beside you.  

“Now that I think about it, I don’t remember a lot of people stop by that tree,” you comment, as you take a step into nostalgia.  

His grandfather shrugs, absentmindedly nodding his head as he mulls over your word through a spoonful of broth. “It was in the middle of a residential area. Bound to get taken down if you ask me. People nowadays need a place to park.”

This time, you really feel his stare beside you almost intensify. Truth is, you can make sense of what you know he only fears. The point in life was to brave through the unfamiliar to establish a consistency in familiar grounds. To continuously rise from day one, only to hit the peak and possibly come face to face with a plateau instead of something greater than even the height of all highs—you admit that it’s terrifying.  

The plateau, that perhaps works sort of like that tree.  

It’s been there, so here it still is.  

You’ve both been at that tree—at the start—so here you both still are. Side by side back in Kanazawa, sharing a meal like I do, isn’t hanging on the line.

His grandfather’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “You’re not wearing your ring.”

Tsukishima’s voice is quick to cut into the conversation, his voice smooth. “She just doesn’t wanna lose it.”  

You nod along to his lie, undecided with how to feel in regards to how smooth he seemed to have delivered his lie.  

“You know, now that I think about it, it’s good that they’re cutting down that tree.”

Tsukishima speaks his mind this time. “Last week, you said you were looking forward to coming back home so you could visit that tree again.”

You don’t look at him when you answer. “I know, but your grandfather has a point. When things change, what else can you do but get rid of it?”  

“Oh nothing’s changed,” he laughs across you. “Even before the two of you were born, people would always talk about how it’s just there when the space could have been used for parking.”

“Then why put off cutting it down this long?”

“Who knows,” he laughs. There’s an unfound wisdom in his eyes that read through your soul when he looks at you. “Maybe cutting down what people already see as a permanent fixture will do more harm than good in the long run.”

“Even if it doesn’t contribute anything?”

Tsukishima thinks of his fear, then of the plateau.  

Through the rim of the glass, he keeps a steady eye on his grandfather, breath held as the anticipation for his words begin to really settle.  

“People these days just see what’s the most obvious from the surface and consider it as the only fault then run with it. Maybe it’s not the tree,” he laughs. “Maybe it’s just the people. They want convenience so they cut off everything around them instead of adjusting to it.”

The food tastes bland in his mouth, suddenly.

“Goes to show how selfish people can get sometimes,” his grandfather finishes, as an afterthought. “A shame, really. That old tree’s done nothing but give people shade.”

-

At the end of the day, you really had to give his grandfather a lot more credit than what was due.  

The second and third day was awkward. Even though you tried to stay inside for most of your day, venturing outside and meeting up with old friends was inevitable. And really, you should have remembered that he often started his day with a couple laps walked around the block.  

On day two, he hinted that he could sense something was off. Tsukishima had been a lot more silent lately, he pointed out. First, as just a passing comment, then by the third time he’d bring it up and wouldn’t get too much of a response out of you, there came more emphasis to what he says.  

He passed by the tree every time you’d round the street too. It occurs to you that passing through it was a shortcut, and contradicted his prior statements to having a route that catered towards the long way home, but you chose to not comment much about it.  

The second day was curiosity, and you figured that you could live at least just a week with it.  

The third day, on the other hand, gave you a little more trouble than you had bargained for.  

You’re on your way home from an old friend’s house, and ironically enough, both Tsukishima and his grandfather are out by their front door, tending to the weeds of a garden that doesn’t even look remotely grown.  

Tsukishima’s the first to look at you.  

Stubborn, and frankly intent on upholding your end of the deal in staying strangers, you attempt to wave them off with a passing greeting as you look through your bag, feeling around for the keys to the gate.  

“You don’t have to think of an excuse,” you hear him say. “He’s back inside now. It’s just you and me here.”

It’s funny how ever since you’ve made it back to Kanazawa, he’s been the one to break the silence a lot more lately.  

You don’t turn. Strangers, you think. The deal was to pretend the other was a stranger.  

“Cam,” he calls out again, the desperation in his voice inching more and more out of its shell. “I’m really sorry.”

You turn around, the buried anger getting the best of you in the moment. “You know the more you say that, the more convinced I am that I should just give you back your ring right now and go back to Tokyo alone. You talk like the only thing you’re sure of is the fact that you won’t be marrying me next week, Kei.”

The moment you shift your gaze from the ground to his eyes, a part of you aches at the idea that you may have to bid farewell to gold. Swallowing down the mass of emotions you hope isn’t entirely just made of anger, you steady yourself and sigh.  

It hits you that it’s been a long day.  

“It’s just you and me here,” you repeat, slowly. There’s a flutter in your heart that tells you it’s still love that stares back when you look at him. “Then why do you feel so far away, Kei?”

-

He doesn’t sleep that night.  

Day three of being strangers, but he hasn’t had anything figured out. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but what only grew was the silence. The distance is really just a few feet away—across the street and through the leaves of that tree that your father would always say he’d get to.  

The light from your room is still turned on, though the curtains are drawn.

8PM and it’s early. 8PM, and on a usual day, you’d usually be seated beside him in your Tokyo apartment’s living room, mulling over the nothings that went on in your day.  

It’s nice to talk about the rest of the world as if all they’re meant to be is just a passing blur in the background, he thinks. He’s never been much for words, but you were.  

Then again, you had always been one for truth.  

Reality is, he knows he could always swallow his doubts, walk across the street, cover the distance, and apologize to you with an I’m sorry, that covers all that needs to be addressed in a standard apology. Life can be lived as easy as that. You swallow your own thoughts, adhere to what they say needs to be done in the way they tell you how to do so, and be done with it.  

But he knows you just as well as he knows himself.  

You’d call him a coward—and truth be told, he’ll think the same.  

Present wise—he does think he is a coward.

Tsukishima sighs, knowing that blinking at your closed curtain visible from his window won’t do much of a difference. Begrudgingly, he sits up, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table.  

The streets around the neighborhood are quiet this time of night. The perks about living away from the city was the silence, he thinks. As soon as he tugs on a sweater, he makes his way downstairs, carefully, so he doesn’t stir his grandfather he presumes is sleeping on the room across the hall.  

He exhales, relieved at the barely audible creak the door clicks to as soon as he shuts it and turns the lock from the outside. The keys, jingling in his pockets, is the only sound that rings in the quiet.  

It isn’t lonely, but it isn’t comfortable either.  

Kanazawa has always been a town he’s considered as a piece of constant that’s meant to drift inbetween.  

Neither like Tokyo or the towns by the outskirts of Okinawa, it stays as is. Twenty years ago, the crack on the sidewalk was there, and now, twenty years later, it remains.  

There’s comfort in recognizing constants, Tsukishima admits. The tree just down this road, the crack on the asphalt, and the fact that your room is still the second window to the left visible from his on the second floor.  

When he was younger, he remembers he often would stand under your window, caught in between wanting to knock on your door and ask permission from your parents if you could accompany him for the afternoon, or just wait around until you’d come down yourself.  

While he left a lot of things on chance, the conscious choice to stay rooted in the spot by your window remained constant.  

The gravel under his feet crackle everytime he’d take a step. The moon’s hazy behind the clouds tonight, he muses. While you’d wish for the stars, he found a temporary safety in the midnight clouds. A timelessness felt when it’s midnight, stays.  

Before he turns to the corner that would lead home, he stops midway—recognizing the tree from a good few meters away.  

There’s a sense of feeling an urgency to let something go, the more he stares at it. Nearing autumn, the colors start to change, and just like that, he’s reminded of the impermanence in life.  

As the earth eventually changes throughout the years, he fears that perhaps in love—it would too.

-

“You’re out late,” is the first thing Tsukishima hears as soon as he enters the room.  

From the genkan, he peers over the shelf, noticing the lights from the kitchen is what floods into the dim living room. Slipping on his house slippers and making his way around the corner, Tsukishima gets a feel of the warmth that’s radiating from the familiarity of the space.  

After his grandmother had passed, his grandfather stayed in Kanazawa. Though his mother often expressed her desire for him to move with the rest of the family in Tokyo, every time, he’d only wave them off and say that there’s too much rooted here for him to just up and leave.  

Walking into the kitchen, his grandfather’s the first to raise a mug his way and offer a smile. “I’d ask you if everything’s fine, but I think I’ll just wait around and see if you’re even willing to tell me.”

Tsukishima chuckles airily. “Sounds like you wanna ask anyway.”

He takes a slow sip. “Okay then,” he nods, smiling like he’s just struck a deal. “First question is—are you okay?”

In response, Tsukishima smiles, pulling the chair and taking the seat across his. He nods. “’Course I am.”

His grandfather’s eyes don’t leave him. “You’re not wearing the ring, and neither is Cam.”

Suddenly feeling like he’s caught in between a blocked exit and the spotlight, Tsukishima freezes, but wills himself not to look away. “Just needed some space, that’s all.”

“To think?”

He sighs. “To reconsider.”

“Ahh,” the older man sighs. “Cold feet. Pretty normal, if you ask me.”

He raises a brow in question. “It’s normal?”

“To be nervous, yeah,” his grandfather laughs. “But looks like it’s a different case for you.”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond, his eyes fixated towards a spot on the wall that feeds more into the blank space of his thoughts than anything more.  

“You’re afraid,” Tsukishima hears, and as soon as the retaliation he tries to string together at the very last minute don’t come—he realizes the core of all the chaos in his head is meant to be just like that—

Blank.

“What are you so afraid of, boy?”

In the silence, he lets the rawness of his truth slowly spill. “What if I hit a plateau after this?”  

His grandfather wastes no second in countering.  “How is it life if we just keep climbing? What’s the point in doing all that work if we never get rest?”

Tsukishima laughs. “You know, by that logic it can just go the other way around too.”

He settles in his seat, trying to appreciate the silence instead of looking for company in the noise, before he adds, “What if we decide we don’t love each other anymore?”  

“That’s not all there is to a plateau,” he laughs. “It’s a valid fear, but being afraid isn’t all there is after you marry someone.”

“Then what’s there?”

With a smile, his grandfather leans back, raises the mug to his lips, and relaxes—his eyes looking fondly at a faded photograph hung beside the wall clock. “Everyday,” he answers. “What’s there after I do is just everyday.”

Sensing that his grandfather means to say more, he chooses to retain his silence. Sighing softly, his grandfather keeps his smile steady as he continues to speak. “Everyday you wake up. You roll over in bed, you think about the checklist you do to consider a day done, then you come home, eat a meal, rest a little and start the whole day over the next day. Everyday’s like that.”

He shifts, leaning forward with his arms crossed supporting his weight on the table as he eyes his grandson with a smile. “Best part is, you can do all that with someone you love. Makes the boring part of the plateau a lot more bearable.”

“You wake up with them and complain about how boring the rest of your day will be, then come home and eat a meal with them. Wash the dishes, share the silence, and just go to bed knowing you’ll wake up with somebody.”

The smile on his face is honest, then he shrugs. “It’s nice, though. The plateau after you hit a certain point in life is just inevitable, Kei. You can either complain about life alone or complain about it with somebody. At least there will be two pairs of slippers by the genkan waiting for you everytime you come home. You’ll say you’ve made it home and someone will greet you. You’ll roll over in bed at 2am and someone will be there with you. The point of climbing in life is to get somewhere, not ascend past the norm.”

Tsukishima stays quiet, pondering over the truth in his grandfather’s words. “So life’s just meant to stay in the middle?” he asks, slowly coming into terms with his grandfather’s redefinition of the plateau.  “Life’s meant to find a consistency in everyday,” he corrects.

A few moments pass before he stands back up, pointing to the counter with a thermos. He knows it’s yours. The old one that your mother refused to throw away, because there’s a crack by the lid and a couple faded sailor moon stickers stuck by the side.  

“Look at that,” Tsukishima hears. He turns his head just in time to see the old man offer him a patient smile, the message in his eyes delivered without a hitch. “That old thing’s seen a couple of decades, but it still gets to you when you need it, right?”

It’s not so bad to have an old thing be your constant, right?

-

Twenty minutes after his grandfather climbs back to his room upstairs, Tsukishima’s seated on the side of the table beside the window. Peeking through the half-opened blinds, he can still see that the light from your room is still flicked on.  

Without mulling over the decision, he takes his phone out, scrolling through the contacts until he taps your name. A swipe without too much pressure, because even his thumb’s memorized where your name is by now. Kind of like muscle memory, he supposes.  

Bypassing the unannounced rules about what to do as the strangers you had claimed from the start of this week, it results to the lack of hesitation as he types a quick text and presses send without a thought that would counter it.  

I love you, it reads.  

From his spot in the kitchen, he leans back and smiles, pouring himself a cup of the tea he knows you brewed yourself on the nights where he can’t sleep.

The lights from your room stay on for a few more moments before it dims, but before the metaphoric silence could take root, the screen of his phone lights up.

Stop walking around at night. Drink the tea and try to get some sleep.

Exhaling almost in relief, it’s the slow beating of his heart that resettles him back into the love he’s known everyday.  

It’s not quite the end, but it isn’t exactly somewhere unpleasant either.

-

Two days before you’re meant to return to the city, instead of spending the day in your room—like you had initially planned—you somehow found yourself in the passenger seat of his grandfather’s old car, with a grocery list in hand.  

You sigh, understanding what his grandfather’s trying to do.  

As you look down, there’s nothing much written in the grocery list. He had complained about some back pain earlier, followed up by his insistent request of desperately needing his groceries done so when Akiteru was to arrive later on, dinner would be taken care of.

Beside you, with his hands on the wheel, Tsukishima sighs. “We could have just ordered in food for dinner. It’s just Akiteru coming,” he mumbles.  

Keeping your eyes to the window to your left, you shrug. “He likes making the ordinary special, I guess.”

Tsukishima stays silent after that, mentally thankful for the green light and the empty roads. The more stops, the longer silence would stay. And even after the sort of middle ground from the night before, he doesn’t know what to say to you.  

After making a quick turn, he pulls up into the parking lot and kills the engine. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he turns to you, with an expectant look. “You can just stay here if you don’t wanna go in with me,” he offers. “It’s a short list, I can be in and out in a bit.”

You wave him off, already slinging on your bag and opening the car door—the list on your hand. “It’s alright. I think I’m more familiar with this area than you are, so we can just meet back in the car in thirty minutes if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t need me to come with you?” he raises a brow.

You shake your head no, but upkeep the smile on your face anyway as you exit the car and close the door.  

-

Something about what you say sticks with him, the more he thinks about it.

He can distinguish the hesitation laced each of your decisions. You look past him, but not exactly at him. You speak to him, but keep the conversations short. Though conversation was rare between the both of you this past week, the times that you did speak to him, your words often were clipped short.  

It’s your means of upkeeping your end of the deal, he realizes.  

You’ve always been one for communication, but then again, patience can only stretch so much.  

He respects your wish for distance and walks the opposite way from the grocery store, towards a building he doesn’t really known. It’s a gallery, he realizes. Three steps past the entrance, he notices that he’s one of the few that’s in the room.  

Traditional artwork line the wall, hung in frames that have rusted throughout time.  

Tsukishima stares, eyes drawn to the pieces of art he recognizes from the few scattered memories in his childhood that relate to his time in the city.

A fieldtrip, when he was seven. He remembers leaving the house upset over the yellow hat he had to wear, and the rain boots his teacher wouldn’t let him change out of. Unlike the present, rain was present that day. He stood beside you in line, and had to tilt his head up at the piece of art he always thought was the prettiest out of the bunch.  

And now, almost two decades later, he still thinks the same.  

He smiles at the memory, finding the comfort of returning to what’s familiar, pleasant.  

As if caught by an epiphany, and suddenly enveloped in a sense of a rediscovered home, here, within a room that’s familiar, he finds purpose in the permanence of love.

Love, that’s never meant to be stretched into the likeness of what the poets declare as the absolute form of love after “I do.”

Staring at the piece of art with the rusting frames, the strokes within the canvas still depict the same story. It still is beautiful.  

It’s doesn’t become more—but it stays as is.

And maybe that’s what his grandfather was trying to convey.

To fear a certain phase in love is something that comes and goes, but it often never stays. It can linger, but eventually, it too, fades.  

What stays is what’s rooted.  

Primarily, just you. Truly, just love.

That tree in that old street, these paintings on the walls, and the kind of serenity that washes over him at the thought of you.  

The fear in life comes in the form of thinking that beyond the peak lays a plateau. Beyond “I do,” what’s next to come is love, dwindling until “I don’t love you anymore,” is the only thing left to be said.  

It’s fear, that spoke to him the past few weeks, so this time, as he gives in, he listens to love.  

It’s quiet.

But through the smoke in the room, the message that’s meant to deliver truth comes in full clarity. Illuminated, it appears before him as it is. A painting that’s struck him as beautiful then and now, and the thought of you as the face that’s always been the first to greet him every morning for more than just a few years now.  

An old man stands not too far from him, hands clasped behind his back as he stares—with a smile on his face—at a similar painting on the wall. Sensing Tsukishima’s presence, he looks over and redirects the smile his way. “Been coming here for years, and looking at this still feels the same.”

Poking at the doubts, Tsukishima responds, “Are you afraid that it won’t get old?”

The gentleman laughs, though soft enough so it doesn’t echo too much in the halls. The joy lingers around Tsukishima, on the other hand. “To have something grow old with you isn’t a bad thing. Day one, this piece was beautiful, and now, almost forty years later, I look at it and think the same too.”

A beat of silence passes, but the man speaks once more.  

“My wife, when she was alive, showed me this piece. Maybe I look at this and still find it beautiful after all these years because I think of her, but I don’t think trying to focus on that matters much. The feeling’s the same, even if it grew old.”

Reciprocating the older man’s goodbye with a nod to the head, it’s then where he laughs, a little bit more of the truth unraveling as each moment comes and goes. Thinking of his words, he dwells on its meaning.  

Standing there, alone in the museum hall, the smoke clears, and he presents himself his words of blended truth and patience.  

Love is timeless, his thoughts say. The plateau after the peak is as possible as the drop, but life’s meant to be lived in the lows and in betweens as much as the highs. Time moves in waves, and perhaps love doesn’t always grow stagnant. It can be timeless, even though the frames rust. His hair will grey, and maybe you’ll stop linking your pinky with him beneath the sheets during the rainy season’s thunderstorms, but the root of love stays.  

Within the plateau, time will move, and you’ll both grow old, but the taste of the tea you’ll brew for him will remain the same.  

And thirty minutes later, when he makes it back to the parking lot with you waiting by the door, the love that steadies his beating heart will be the same too.  

Steady, present, and timeless.  

-

Eyeing the dashboard, you’re the first to break the silence. “Why’d you buy a postcard?”

Rolling into a stoplight, he eases on the brakes and shrugs. “Lived here for so long, and I don’t even own a postcard from here.”

“Me neither,” you blink.

A couple minutes pass, and the car’s rolling again, but he misses a turn. Assuming that he’s just not used to the usual route, you stay quiet—until about he pulls up to a familiar street.  

Parked to the side, through the windshield, you find yourself face to face with a familiar tree. “Kei.” He hums.  

The coming autumn has a few leaves beginning to change its colors, you notice. The summer hues, unbalanced, as bits of red begins to bleed through the green. “You were supposed to turn there, not here.”

He shifts the gear into park, then takes his hands off the wheel, leaning back. “I know.”

It’s quiet after that, but it isn’t all that unpleasant either.  

This is the part where the questions begin to poke at you, the what-ifs in love let out in the open as you voice a little bit of your vulnerability. And because the truth is daunting, you hope he understands you through the metaphors. “Do you really think they’ll cut it down?”

He doesn’t allow the silence to take more than a moment. “I think so,” he nods his head.

“It’ll be good though, I think,” you add, nodding your head.  

It’s quiet in the room even though the words of your truth coaxes the unhealed wound to resurface. As it comes into light, it doesn’t sting.  

Sitting shoulder to shoulder beside him in the car, the tree that witnessed the first hello stays rooted, and watches.  

He doesn’t turn to you as he speaks, but in a way, you feel as if a farewell was the finale that was meant to be delivered somehow. “It’s good,” he starts. “Letting go of something that needs to be let go of.”

-

Tokyo

-

Tsukishima’s the first to speak.  

“I’m not good with words,” he starts.  

There’s a hush in the crowd, so you stay with it, knowing you’ll only add to the silence should you choose to respond. It wasn’t your turn anyway, so you will yourself to be still and listen.  

“Hey Cam,” Tsukishima continues, choosing to begin his vow with a hello. “I think a lot about what love’s supposed to have meant, mean, or eventually mean in the long run. I thought too much about it to the point where it…” he trails off, blinking at the piece of paper before flicking his eyes up to you with a slight shrug. “—to the point where love began to scare me.”

For a brief moment, he closes his eyes, confident in the fact that when he opens them, he knows he’ll see the world in clarity this time. With the smoke cleared and the scattered pieces of all his doubts set in order, the words of his truth may not speak of the most tender poem of love—but within the lines lies his truth.

As he lays his truth on you, he holds a breath and lets it all go. “I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life,” he laughs, exhaling softly, his shoulders shaking a little. “Never occurred to me how much of a liar the downside of your thoughts are when you listen to everything that isn’t love,” he continues.  

Your shoulders relax, and even through the blur of the veil, you can tell his eyes are steadily watering.  

“I’m sorry,” he says, the microphone just barely picking up what he says. You nod your head anyway, wishing you were holding his hands instead of the bouquet. Reassurance comes in many forms, but you know he’s always been the type to receive it well through physical touch.  

A kiss on the cheek, your head on his shoulder, or your hands squeezing his. But the smile you give him suffices for now, you think.  

“I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life. I’ll wash, and you dry. Nothing much happens in our day usually, but nothing has to. I’ll listen to you talk about how shit the traffic is in the city, because I know you’ll listen to me talk about the same complaints I have from Monday to Friday anyway.”

You realize he’s written his vows in the back of a postcard—the one you saw on his dashboard a few days ago, from Kanazawa.  

He sniffles a little then looks up, laughing to himself at how emotional he’s getting. Allowing more than just truth to trickle out slow is a part of love too, he realizes, so with a soft laugh, he lets the tears be and speaks again. “What needed to be let go of was let go of,” he exhales, like he’s been holding his breath for this long.  

In a sense, maybe he has. Sometimes fear grips you tightly enough that it shifts your point of view from one thing to another. What’s love, becomes fear. Then what’s fear, becomes the smoke that buries the core of truth too deep within the haze.  

“I let go of the thought the thought that after marriage, if nothing great would come then that would be the end of love,” he breathes. “I stared at that tree and thought of Grandpa’s words again and again then wrote my apology and I love you on the back of a postcard that only had one a couple of blank lines at most.”

He waves it for you, then to the crowd, to see. The words, jumbled up together look almost incomprehensible written so closely together, but in a way, you have a feeling that he’s just speaking the rest of his truth as it comes in the moment.  

The truth in love, you realize, is that its truth comes, fully unraveled the moment the initial plan falls apart.  

He puts down the postcard, and just looks at you.  

“There’s a lot I don’t think I will ever understand when it comes to love, but maybe I’m here to just feel it and not try to decipher it.” He pauses, ignores the few tears that roll down, and shrugs his shoulders, admitting to himself that the truth in his love is the first thought that comes.

“Love doesn’t have to the greatest,” he tells you. “I just wanna wash dishes with you for the rest of my life and hear about how traffic was unbearable.”

You smile, and your assurance reaches him.  

“I think that counts as love too,” he finishes, the smile on his face tender.

-

As he leans in after I do, he murmurs a question in your ear that you’ve been expecting since the start.

You could have just left, he said. How did you deal with me and still choose to stay?

Your answer was said without a hint of hesitation. With a shrug, and an honest smile, you told him, “Because I love you.”

“I think we both had to let go of the thought that to love always means to have the biggest reasoning behind it. We do things for love, and because of love. That’s just how it is,” you shrugged.

Oddly enough, it’s in that same exact moment where he remembers Bokuto’s question from that dinner a week and some days ago.  

How does it feel? he recalls, and even though words have never found him first nor met him in the middle easy, he gathers what he can and just settles on the conclusion that it just feels like love.

Wherein love, is this.

An identical band on his and your finger, and the taste of I do pleasant on the tongue. I love you, as a truth that’s easy to fathom and healing to hold, and the fear of what comes next just a passing thought that goes as soon as it comes.  

Later that evening his grandfather sits him down and asks him what he really thinks about why people have been putting off cutting down that tree for a few decades now.  

With a laugh, the hesitation that often turns decisions is made clear to him. “You know I think that people would decide things and think they’re so solid on it before even being face to face with it. The second they get to that tree with a chainsaw, I promise you they changed their minds. You think you go there and cut off or let go of one thing, then realize you’re cutting off something else in the end. They go back to what’s been there and realize that it’s not the problem at all.”

Tsukishima sighs, and his grandfather watches, the smile on his face easy. It’s like watching some emerge from a smoked out room, he thinks. Clarity’s always been a blessing, and he’s glad his grandson’s finally found it.  

“Sometimes going back to the start is the one thing you need to be reminded that it’s worth it to keep going.”

“Sounds like you’re not talking about the tree,” his grandfather comments.  Looking at you, Tsukishima smiles. “You could say that too.”

[realcube]

jealous haikyuu!! boys

summary: the haikyuu!! boys getting jealous over you talking to a boy but as it turns out, that boy is in fact your relative 

characters: third year gym squad (lev, hinata, bokuto, kuroo, tsukishima & akaashi)

thank you to anon for this sweet request! 💖

(y/n) = your name

(b/n) = brother’s name

tw// sexual references, swearing

Lev Haiba 

he was already in a sour mood from practise bc kenma, kuroo & yaku had all ganged up on him so he was getting beat left, right & centre 

so he was feeling extra confrontational when he laid eyes on you laughing and chatting with some other guy, in the spot where you usually stand and wait for him after practise 

he was so mad >:( 

like he just had a shitty day at school and now some punk was trying to flirt with you- and you didn’t seem to be uncomfortable either 

DOES HIS SUFFERING KNOW NO END?! 😩😭

grrr like he had spent 90% of the day looking forward to seeing you and now you were talking to some other guy like he didn’t even exist :( 

a part of him knew that he was being overdramatic but the other part of him was like ‘all feelings are valid, lev. 💕💖💗’

like he literally worked so hard to be the best boyfriend possible and this guy thought he could just swoop in and steal your heart??? without even letting you braid his hair yet??? 

yeah, lev had spent too much money on cat keychains to lose you this far into the game 

also he loves you pls don’t leave him rn (y/n) 😭

so he marched up to you with a frown, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on the back just like he usually does as a greeting, ‘hi, babe.’ he murmured.

your attention immediately shifted onto your boyfriend and you automatically pouted upon seeing his glum expression, ‘hiya. are you okay, hun? rough day at scho--’

he held your hand by his lips and muttered from behind your knuckles, ‘who’s this?’ he inquired, vaguely gesturing to your brother

‘oh, lev! this is my brother! i don’t think y’all have met yet.’

lev blinked rapidly at what you just said, ‘brother? like- male sibling.’

you nodded while simultaneously quirking an eyebrow at his need for clarification at the simplest piece of information, ‘yes. my male sibling.’

lev let out a heavy sigh of relief as his lips curled into a smile, softening his grip on your hand, allowing you to pull it away, ‘ah, okay.’

then he turned to your brother and stuck out his hand, ‘nice to mee-- you don’t look anything like (y/n).’ he chirped, all trances of sadness leaving his face - it was kinda creepy how quickly he was able to do that 

model tingz

your brother shrugged, ‘yeah.’ he hastily took lev’s hand, giving it a firm shake before turning on his heels, ‘i should really get going now, bye!’ he called out before rushing off, quite intimidated by the fact you had a skyscraper for a boyfriend 

lev turned to you, a warm smile now gracing his features

���uh, where did all your gloom go? you looked miserable just a few seconds ago!’ you inquired, playfully poking his cheek

lev shrugged, poking your forehead in retaliation, ‘i don’t know. i’m here with you now so i guess i don’t have a reason to be sad.’ he said nonchalantly, forgetting the fact he had gotten the results for his midterms today and he had failed maths horribly

but who need maths when you’re a model yk?

Shōyō Hinata

bruh- hinata didn’t even notice you were talking to someone UIEFGBVFE

once practise was over he literally just ran up and threw himself at you 

he has selective vision, he only sees the things he wants to see and rn, all he wants to see you under the moonlight 🥺

so he wraps you in a hug and peppers your face in kisses just like he usually does when he greets you after practise

then he noticed that there was some guy standing next to you, aggressively tapping your shoulder to request your attention even though hinata was clearly trying to tell you about his day at practise 

he unintentionally scowled at the boy before cocking his head to the side and asking, ‘who are you?’ 

although this tone of voice didn’t seem too nasty; given the context - accompanied by the sour look on his face - the question seemed to have threatening undertones

you’re brother blinked rapidly before uttering, ‘i’m (b/n).’

he continued to stare daggers at the guy, ‘what do you want from (y/n)?’

‘the maths homework answers.’ your brother chuckled, continuing to playfully poke your shoulder until hinata swatted his hand away

‘she doesn’t owe you an--’

you were extremely confused as to why hinata took up such a serious demeanour but then you realised that he had never met your brother before, so hinata probably thought there was just some creepy harassing you for the homework answers

although you were charmed by your boyfriend’s attempts to be ‘scary’ for you, you still felt the need to intervene

‘oh, shōyō. that’s my brother, by the way.’ you hummed, awkwardly rubbing the back of your neck

both your brother and your boyfriend slowly turned their heads to look at you, sharing the same dumbfounded look

‘your brother?!’ hinata exclaimed while your brother now looked rather offended, ‘you didn’t tell your boyfriend about me- rude!’

to be fair, your one year anniversary with shōyō was approaching so you feel foolish about not telling him about your brother sooner- it’s just that it never really crossed your mind

‘i’m fucking leaving.’ (b/n) spat, turning on his heels; trying to make it seem like he was storming out because he was upset that you hadn’t mentioned him to your boyfriend but in reality, he was just getting tired of prying at you for the homework answers

‘i’m fucking leaving too!’ hinata hissed, imitating your brother’s actions until he got the gate of the school, then he turned back around and shuffled back over to you 

he pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on your shoulder and squeezing your waist tight as he whispered into your ear, ‘do you have any other secret siblings that you want to tell me about?’

you giggled, pressing a gentle kiss onto his collarbone ‘i don’t think so.’ 

Kōtarō Bokuto

mans thought you were leaving him 🥺

like why would you talk to another guy when you had a cool ace bf already? (˘･_･˘)

in bokuto’s mind, that could only mean one thing;

YOU WERE GOING TO LEAVE HIM FOR AN EVEN COOLER ACE BOYFRIEND!! ヽ(*。>Д<)o゜

and the fact your brother was wearing a jersey didn’t help either

like, he doesn’t often get jealous when you talk to other guys but this one was wearing a JERSEY FFS!!! that meant he must be cool >:(((

also, you were laughing!

yeah, you sometimes laugh when you talk to akaashi or boys in your class but this time it was different 

the guy looked familiar but bokuto couldn’t put a finger on who he was - but he knew that the guy wasn’t from Fukurōdani as the colors of his jersey were a fruity teal and white - and this made him feel even more uneasy

bokuto knew what he had to do

he had to win you back by being thE COOLEST ACE BOYFRIEND!!

he ran a hand through his hair to it was extra spiky before swaggering up to you; chin up, back straight and chest puffed out

‘sup, doll.’ he said with a wink, forcing his voice to deepen

you sighed, upon hearing this unusual nickname, it didn’t take you long to figure out what was going on

bokuto didn’t even let you reply as he dropped to one knee and gently took you hand - making both you and your brother’s breath hitch in unison, thinking that you were about to witness a proposal and knowing bokuto, that didn’t seem completely impossible

however, instead of pulling out a ring; he pressed a tender kiss against you knuckles before pulling the pair of earbuds you had left at his house yesterday, out of his pocket and lowering his head as he held them out for you

‘i humbly offer these to thee.’

‘how did you go from a pimp to prince in 3 seconds?’ you inquired, snatching your earbuds from him while shooting him a disapproving look 

(b/n) couldn’t help but snicker at your boyfriends little performance, ‘i see he’s not changed a bit.’

bokuto hummed, looking over to meet eyes with your brother 

(b/n) smiled shot him a warm smile, ‘hi, bokut--’

‘do i know you?’

you instinctively gasped while your brother just laughed, ‘i’m (b/n); (y/n)’s brother. we met once after one of your games, remember?’

bokuto did not remember - at all - but he trusted that it did happen as that’d explain why he seemed so familiar

to avoid appearing any more ignorant, bokuto just nodded in agreement, ‘oh, yeah! it’s all coming back to me now.’ he chuckled awkwardly while getting up from his knee, ‘you just look so different with your jersey on, man.’

you rolled your eyes at how poor bokuto’s lying skills were but perhaps you should be more disappointed in your brother as he actually fell for it 

‘oh, for real?’ (b/n) asked, looking down at his chest while wondering if jersey really did the trick

needless to say, bokuto never forgot your brother’s face ever again lmao

Tetsurō Kuroo

upon exiting the building (after practise) and seeing you conversing with some guy by the school gates, he wasted no time in ripping his shirt off and parading over to you 

he mentally reassured himself that he had no need to be jealous bc there was no way you’d leave his fine-ass for some average guy that made you laugh by the school gate-- WAIT YOU WERE LAUGHING!?!? ◉_◉

 i mean, kuroo had made you laugh before- but you were just being so nice to this guy who he’d never seen around the school before which stressed him

plus, the guy looked like he was in college so kuroo was extremely worried that you might leave him for an older guy bc he had heard from yaku that some ppl like older men 😭😭

he could not let this happen ✋

his shirt now served as a scarf hanging around his neck as he strutted up to you, placing his hand on your shoulder to grab your attention

he wasn’t sure whether to go for the intimidation tactic or perhaps redirect your attention off of the guy and back onto your dearest boyfriend; so he went with both

‘(y/n)?’ he spoke, lowering his voice so it was more raspy - like his morning voice which he knew you were obsessed with

although kuroo is not ‘chemistry nerd’ smart, he definitely knows how to play his cards right IEFBERGLIEABVR

you hummed in response, swiftly turning to look at him before letting out a cackle upon seeing your half-naked boyfriend standing behind you

‘hey! don’t laugh at me!’ kuroo whined, his mask of confidence quickly shattering

‘put your shirt back on, tetsurō!’ you panted through guffaws, clutching your chest to prevent your heart from beating out of your chest 

honestly, it was quite hot but ofc you’d never admit that so you just had to hide your desire behind laughs

while you were laughing, kuroo turned to look at your brother, trying to form a glare but it looked more like a squint tbh

‘and you are?’

(b/n) wore a stunned look at how quickly your boyfriend’s attitude changed, temporarily unable to think up a reaction but then blurted out, ‘(b/n). you?’

(b/n) cocked his head to the side while backing up slightly, ready to make a run for it as soon as kuroo replied

kuroo didn’t intimidate (b/n), per se, it’s just that (b/n) wanted to get as far away from this interaction as possible as it generally made him feel uneasy

‘i’m (y/n)’s boyfriend.’ he said lowly with a menacing smile

‘cool.’ (b/n) voice cracked as he adjusted the strap of his bag before launching off into the horizon on his heels

a smug expression was plastered on his face as he gazed proudly at his work - he had managed to scare off an upperclassman with sheer manliness

by now, your laughing fit had died down and your lips formed a frown as you watched your brother bolt over to his car, hop in and drive away - presumably, back to your home

‘hey.’ you moaned, watching until his car turned a corner and left your vision, ‘he was my ride home!’

kuroo’s soul almost left his body upon hearing you say that, ‘you shouldn’t be getting in cars with crusty, older men anyway!’

you rolled your eyes, ‘he’s my brother, dumbass!’

IEHFBEVJEAU kuroo shut tf up immediately 😶

 ‘oops- my bad.’ he snickered before jogging out the school gates, ‘have fun walking, babe!’ he threw up a piece sign before disappearing round a corner in a similar way that your brother did 

Kei Tsukishima

tsukishima had just finished practise, he walked out the gym to notice that you were talking to some guy next to the vending machine

he literally almost had a heart-attack bc he thought it was kageyama 

but no

IT WAS WORSE

tsukishima never really got jealous when you talked to other guys bc he knew they really had nothing in comparison to him lol

i mean, tsukishima knew he was a catch: he’s lanky, bitchy, tall, rude, emotionally-distant, tall, untrusting, tall, insecure, surly, a horrible cook- did i mention he’s tall?

ok so maybe he wasn’t as much of a catch as he originally thought but the fact he is tall is really the thing that’s holding together his façade of arrogance

so imagine his shock when he sees you happily chatting away to a guy that’s 6″4 !!!!!!

for clarification, tsukishima is 6″2

tsukishima passed away on the spot 💀⚰

he had already logged onto Instagram and removed the ‘Taken 🔒’ out of his bio 

there’s no way he’s gonna be able to win you back now  ✌😔

he’s had his time has your tall bf- it’s time to resign

BUT HE WASN’T GONNA GIVE UP THAT EASILY

not before he indulged in some bitchery ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

he practised the scene 10 times in his head before executing it, starting by striding up to you and slipping an arm round your waist, pulling you against his chest

his eyes held a penetrating stare on your brother from above the edge of his glasses, he snickered mockingly as his index finger pushed the frames further up the bridge of his nose

honestly, tsukki tried his best to hide it but he was genuinely quite nervous not only bc he actually had to look up slightly to hold eye contact with the guy - which is something he’s obviously not used to - but also due to the fact he simply could not come up with a good insult for this guy; even though he was usually quite good at spotting people’s insecurities ‘:(

hence, all he could to was produce a deriding chuckle which was aimed towards the guy in hopes that it was make him feel half as insecure as tsukishima was feeling rn

‘what’s so funny?’ you asked, clueless to your boyfriend having an internal breakout while standing right beside you 

tsukishima rolled his eyes, realising that the guy seemed unfazed by his dirty looks so it seemed as thought tsukki would have to crack up the pettiness

‘who’s this chump, (y/n)?’ tsukishima leaned in to semi-whisper in your ear, but loud enough so your brother could still hear 

‘tsukki!’ you gasped at your boyfriend’s choice of words before scolding him further, ‘that’s my brother- he’s a 3rd year!’

tsukishima paled

he bowed to the point where he was basically a right angle ‘m-, uh, my apologies, sir. i ha-, um, i had no idea you were related to (y/n).’

he was sO EMBARASSED AAAAAAAAAAA

your brother reassured him it was fine but tsukki was apologising for another 5 minutes after that 

he promised himself never to get jealous again after that (ಥ _ ಥ) it only leads to trouble 

no matter how tall the guy is either- 

he swore that if he ever saw a 9″ guy talking to you and it upset him, he’d just close his eyes 😑

he probably should’ve promised to stop running his mouth too bc that’d probably result in a lot less trouble but- baby steps, y’all LMAO

Keiji Akaashi

i can’t really imagine akaashi as the type to get jealous tbh

and if he does, he deals with it pretty well

like if sees you talking with a guy in a way that bothers him, he’s definitely not confrontational enough to deal with it right there so he’d wait until y’all are alone at home or sumn 

but you had been acting especially distant lately 

so when he spots you hanging with some random guy next to the water fountain, he kinda snaps 

he stalked up to you so he could take your hand in his own, asking if he could borrow just a moment of you time so he could talk to you 

you accept, of course, wondering what this could possibly be about 

he explains how he’s been feeling and you feel quite bad tbh

you weren’t aware that you were detaching yourself from him but you had to blame your schoolwork tbh

once you expressed how schoolwork along with the stress of your job had really been getting you down lately so you asked you brother for assistance, he immediately pulled you into a hug

the last thing he wanted was or it to seem like he was desperate for your attention bc although it was nice, he respected how you had to prioritize other things/people

in fact, he only brought this issue up bc it was beginning to eat him from the inside out - his insecurities telling him that you had lost interest in him and like anyone else, he desired a bit of comfort

you reassured him that you hadn’t ‘lost interest’ in him and you separation as well as you current closeness with you brother was all to do with your workload and hopefully, sometime in the near future, you’ll be able to sit down, relax and just watch a movie with akaashi

that was all fair and lovely but there was still one thing that continued to bother him

‘who’s that guy you were talking to?’ he inquired, gesturing to your brother who was awkwardly standing alone by the fountain

‘my brother.’

‘oh-’

[cinnoasch]

I just had an idea, Akechi with an S/O (their not dating yet) and they have a toxic boyfriend and when Akechi meets him he just thinks, "guess i have one more target" and he tries the hardest to keep up the Detective Prince facade in front of this guy because he's just filled with so much rage at this one man.

A/N: Ohoho, I love this idea. I had an idea for a bad ending of sorts, but let me know if any one wants that ending as well. Thank you Anon and hope you enjoyed! And hopefully this turned out alright!

C/W: Toxic relationship on/off, slight cursing, angst(?)

Word Count: 1885

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hostile Third-Wheel (Goro Akechi x Reader)

“You look upset Y/N. Did something happen?” Akechi asks, looking up from his paperwork when he notices your expression.

You let out an annoyed sigh, waving your phone in the air as you sit across from him. “My boyfriend. He accidentally reserved a table for 3 for our date tonight and being the stubborn lazy ass he is, refuses to call the restaurant to change it. He told me to invite a friend.”

“On your date?”

“Mhm, and he said...” You say as you hear your notification ring. “To preferably bring a girl... ‘Just kidding, winky face.’“

“He sounds like quite the charmer. And you can’t change the reservation yourself?”

“You know how the restaurants are, they rather have the person who did the reservation to change it.”

“You do make a valid point. Well then, how about inviting me?”

You look at Akechi in surprise. “You want to tag along on my date? Wouldn’t you just feel like a third wheel?”

Akechi smiles lightly, “Well, I guess I would feel like somewhat of a third wheel, but I have never met your boyfriend. I’d like to know what your taste in significant others is like.”

“Not funny. But I will say, it hasn’t been... the best. I think I really... got it this time.”

Akechi noticed the hesitation on your face and in your words but he didn’t mention it. He knew the many heartbreaks you had been through, although he never met any of your previous significant others. He was the one that you called during those nights, hearing your crying and hoarse voice as you explained how you recently were dumped. While it hurt more for you than him, Akechi could not help but feel upset. He may be the only one who harbored feelings between the two of you, but even if you did not return those feelings; he’d still be there for you no matter what.

“Anyways, I am allowed to join you two right? Your boyfriend won’t mind?”

“Not at all. He says he’s fine with it. So see you tonight at 7? It’s the one restaurant near Seaside Park in Odaiba.”

"Ah, I’ve been there on occasion. If I remember correctly, you often frequented the restaurant with your previous significant others. You know if you keep bringing them to the same restaurant for dates, it’s not as special as it seems.”

“I know, I know. I guess I just stick with what I’m comfortable with. Any who, see you tonight!” You say with a wave as you take your leave from Akechi’s apartment.

When you close the door behind you, your smile fades. You had been through this too many times before. You knew what was going to happen tonight. And after tonight, the cycle would repeat itself just like it always had for the past few months.

------------------------------

“So, this friend of yours, is Goro Akechi?” your boyfriend asks as you two walk the path heading to the restaurant.

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“No particular reason. I just hope you don’t think about leaving me for him. We’ve been through this enough times, so you know the drill. We always come back to each other.”

“I know... the thought never crossed my mind.”

“Not even once?” They ask, tilting your face towards them.

“Not even once.”

“Good.” Your boyfriend removes his hand and opens the door for you. “Let’s keep it that way then.”

You sigh quietly, straightening out your clothes as you walk through the door. You never knew why you always got your hopes up. Breaking things off and getting back together was what your relationship was. You knew from the start that the relationship wasn’t good, but you always found yourself drawn back. You always questioned why this was the way that things were. Were you just content with any type of love? Even if it was the worst kind? Or were you just denying the fact that you could never have anything better than this?

You feel your arm being tugged as you look up to see your boyfriend trying to move you along to the table.

“C’mon, your friend’s waiting.”

You give a nod as you walk to the table with your boyfriend. Akechi waves with a smile when he sees you two, and stands up from his seat.

“Hope you weren’t waiting long, Akechi.” You say with a small smile.

“Not at all. So this is your boyfriend? I’m Goro Akechi, pleased to meet you.” He says holding his hand out for a handshake.

Your boyfriend introduces himself, lightly shaking Akechi’s hand as he does. The three of you sit down at the table and decide what to order before starting a conversation.

“So, how long have you two been dating?” Akechi asks. A small smile graces his face, however he was staring intently at your boyfriend. You noticed that your boyfriend did whisper something to Akechi earlier while they were introducing themselves, so you were somewhat concerned.

You’re about to answer but your boyfriend slings an arm around you with a grin. “Y/N and I have been dating for a few months now.”

“A few months? Is that so? Y/N told me they’ve had a few other significant others within the past few months.”

“Ah, that’s them trying to save face. Y/N and I have a sort of on/off relationship. They just can’t get enough of me so they always come crawling back.”

Akechi glances at you but quickly turns his gaze back to your boyfriend. “Really now? How peculiar, you don’t see those quite often anymore.”

“I guess not, but guess we’re just made for each other.”

Akechi only nods in agreement, his fists were clenched underneath the table. Was he upset that you lied? Yes. But the thing that bothered him the most was your boyfriend. He could immediately tell that your boyfriend was bad news when he saw you two walking up to the restaurant. How he had that condescending look on his face when he talked to you, his words just now, implying that you couldn’t do any better than him. It made Akechi’s blood boil.

It seems that I have a new target to take care of.

Soon the waiter comes and takes your orders, silence filling the air for a few seconds until your boyfriend speaks up.

“So, Akechi. You’re that Detective Prince that’s always on TV right?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

You twirl your straw in your drink, already knowing the question that would pop up.

“You must have a lot of fans, right? All those girls surrounding you must be nice.”

“Well, fans are expected, although all of the attention can be a bit much at times.”

“Ya don’t have to lie, you must love the attention right? Though I’m surprised you aren’t dating someone yourself. You could get any girl.”

“I suppose. But I bet if you were in my shoes, you’d relish in the attention wouldn’t you? You strike me as the type of guy who... sleeps around I would say.”

You shoot Akechi a look, but he only dismisses it with a smile and laughs. “Aha, I apologize. What am I doing asking those sorts of questions with Y/N here?”

Your boyfriend chuckles, “Oh, Y/N doesn’t mind. Isn’t that right, babe?”

“Like hell I don’t.”

“Oh come on, Akechi’s just joking around.”

Akechi grins, “Well... it seems my deduction was correct. You are that type of guy. Truly despicable. Y/N deserves much better than you, don’t you think?”

Your boyfriend stands up angrily, “What the hell are you trying to say?”

“Other than you’re a piece of shit?”

You stand up next, “Alright, let’s all calm down now. Akechi, a word?”

Your boyfriend sits back down, crossing his arms as you take Akechi to the side to talk to him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? You’re the one who’s forcing yourself to be in a relationship with that dumbass over there.”

“Who I date is none of your business.”

“It is my business. Who’s the one who has called me every time crying because they got dumped? What’s even worse is that you do nothing to get yourself out of it.”

“Who says I haven’t tried?”

“Y/N. Look me in the eyes and tell me you’ve actually tried to get out of your relationship.”

You clench your hands, unable to look Akechi in the eye. Who were you kidding? You had simply accepted how things were going to be between you and your boyfriend. An on and off relationship that only hurt you.

Akechi sighs. “Look, I’m only saying these things because I care about you. And if you won’t break it off, I’ll do it for you.”

The look in Akechi’s eyes told you that he was dead serious. Yet, there was some hint of malicious intent behind his words. Would Akechi really turn to violence to break things off between you and your boyfriend? Well, that question wasn’t needed since you were made aware of Akechi’s hostile side.

“Fine. I’ll break it off. Just give me some time.”

“Hmmm, no. Do it now.”

You glare at Akechi. “Now? Are you crazy?”

“Like I said if you don’t, I will. And my methods are much worse than a simple ‘I’m breaking up with you’.”

You only nod, not wanting to barter with Akechi any longer, and walk back to the table where your boyfriend sat. When he sees you walking back, he stands up with a smile. “So, did you tell Akechi off? Ha, I bet the look on his face was priceless.”

“Actually no. I’m breaking up with you.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’m tired of this, me staying loyal for some piece of shit boyfriend who sleeps around. I’m done with you.”

“You bitch!” He raises his hand to slap you but Akechi appears behind you and grabs his wrist forcefully.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Your now, ex-boyfriend looks at Akechi in fear. You didn’t want to turn around because you were sure that the look Akechi was giving this guy was one that could kill.

“Now, if you would please lower your hand once I let go.”

Your ex-boyfriend only nods and once Akechi lets go of his wrist he bolts out of the restaurant.

You let out a sigh of relief as you turn to face Akechi. “Thank you for that. I guess a push was all I needed.”

“Not a problem. But if I may ask Y/N, why did you put up with it? The Y/N I know would normally break it off immediately when it became that type of relationship.”

You chuckle a bit sadly as you seat yourself back in your chair. “You know, I thought so too. But eventually, it just became a cycle. My thoughts started to invade my mind, telling me that that type of relationship was the best that I could handle. That it couldn’t and wouldn’t get any better. I’m pathetic aren’t I?”

“Your taste in S/O’s could be considered pathetic I suppose.”

“Low blow, but I’ll take it.”

“Well you did need to hear it. Anyways, I think we can salvage this failed date somewhat. What do you say Y/N?”

“Sure, why not.”

[asset35-maya]

Nice Things

Inspired by this spectacular drawing of long-haired Nines by @marndraws

Gavin Reed never had nice things.

Every day was a fight for survival. He studied hard, worked hard and did everything he could to come out on top… but he never had nice things. If he did, they wouldn’t last.

Then the most beautiful creature to walk the planet entered his life.

A sheer scientific miracle. A combined feat of engineering and art. The most advanced android ever built… and the kindest soul the mean city of Detroit had ever seen.

Nines.

Gavin had no idea how to interact with the RK900 in the beginning. If it were any other new partner he’d have been his usual abrasive self, but there was something about the android that left him dumbstruck. No insults came to mind, so Gavin stuck to silent cooperation (and obedience, actually).

The RK900 model was designed to be aesthetically pleasing. There was no doubt about that, but it was how the android carried himself that took things to another level entirely. Poise, elegance and flair touched everything that he said and did.

It extended to the way he transformed his appearance after deviancy. Nines shed his Cyberlife uniform with the harsh turtleneck and stiff jacket in favour of softer, more delicate garments. He still stuck to dark colours, but his clothes were all loose and flowing. He dressed more like an interior decorator than a homicide detective (and it honestly served him well).

Gavin often had to tear his gaze away from the refined fabrics and unconventional styles that Nines wore. Gavin never had nice things… but he certainly had an eye for them.

And then there was Nines’ hair…

When Gavin had first seen the change from the default appearance settings, he had to leave the station, find a quiet alley and focus on bringing his breathing back to normal.

Nines… for some unknown, wild, spectacular, unprecedented, utterly amazing reason… had decided to lengthen his hair and let it hang loose around his shoulders.

The dark tresses were as expressive as the android himself. They danced when he laughed. They whipped the air when he animatedly told a story with his steel blue eyes flashing. They shone in every damn light.

Gavin couldn’t help but stare. He never had nice things… but he was drawn to them.

Not a day went by that he didn’t want to reach out and tuck the fine strands behind Nines’ ear, but he held back from giving in to such insanity.

Nines didn’t hold himself back though.

For all the times Gavin had been looking, so had he. He made his move in the middle of a very boozy Christmas party at the DPD. It didn’t take much of an effort. They left the party together on the flimsy pretext of Nines showing Gavin his Christmas lights at home… and promptly fell into bed together.

Gavin had never had nice things… but he knew exactly what he wanted, and when they were presented to him on a silver platter, he knew how to take them.

Nines’ hair was as soft as he imagined and even silkier than he dreamed. He couldn’t stop running his fingers through the lifelike synthetic fibres and Nines couldn’t seem to get enough of his touch either.

Bliss.

On the third anniversary of the Christmas party, the pair found themselves in very much the same position, only that they didn’t actually make it to the mindless office event this time. The day started and ended in bed.

Fairy lights glittered and tastefully-chosen tinsel framed the snow-laden windows of their loft apartment. The large Christmas tree emanated a warm glow that reached even the bedroom where they lay tangled in the sheets.

Nines was draped over Gavin’s chest, his fingers skimming idly across the warm skin.

“Sweetheart…”

“Nines.”

Gavin’s wary tone of voice made the android laugh. A velvet sound that the human would follow to the ends of the earth.

“What’s the thing you love most about me?”

Gavin exhaled loudly, hugging Nines closer.

“Baby, you know I ain’t good at words and shit.”

“I’m not asking you to write me a poem. Just tell me what you love most about me.”

He sighed and stared at the ceiling.

“Is this a test?”

“I don’t have to test you. I know everything there is to know about you. I can read you like a book even with my analysis software turned off.”

“Uh huh. Then why the inquisition?”

“Because validation is nice.”

Gavin snorted and carded his fingers though Nines’ gorgeous hair.

“Guess I can start by applauding your honesty.”

Nines hummed, rubbing slow circles into Gavin’s pec with his thumb. A few minutes went by and Gavin began to drift off to sleep.

“So what’s more attractive to you? My personality or my looks?”

Gavin’s eyes snapped open in alarm.

“What the ph-”

“There’s no right or wrong answer. Just tell me.”

Nines propped himself up on his elbows and peered into Gavin’s face. It was truly a magnificent sight. Two piercing blue eyes… plush lips curling into a smirk… a cyan LED… and a perfectly arched eyebrow. A pale, angular face… framed by sweeping curtains of dark, glossy hair.

Gavin gulped.

“I can’t choose. You’re the total package.”

“Cop out.”

“Pfffft. You tell me then. What do you like better? My mug or my sharp wit? Hah. Betcha can’t answer that for all the complex calculations your supercomputer brain can do.”

Nines tossed his hair over his shoulder and elevated himself further, pressing his forearms onto Gavin. His fixation with the human’s muscular chest was no secret.

“I can.”

“Huh.”

“You hardly said anything when we first met so I had nothing to go off for your personality-”

“Maybe I was mysterious and aloof and ya just couldn’t resist.”

“No, I actually thought you were kind of slow. All your medals and service awards didn’t make any sense to me.”

“Wowww.”

“So it had to be your body. Why else would anyone keep you around?”

“Is that why you stuck around too?”

“Maybe.”

“You little-”

Gavin reversed their positions on the bed, flipping Nines onto his back and curling huge biceps around his lithe body. Nines tipped his head back to allow Gavin to drag his teeth across his throat and latch onto his collarbone. Some moments passed like that until Nines regained control by hooking a leg over the human’s waist to slow him down.

“Fine. I confess. It was the leather jacket.”

“Seriously?”

Nines dug his heel into Gavin’s coccyx.

“It was everything about your appearance that you had control over… or weren’t born with at least. For instance, your face is conventionally attractive, but it’s all the lines and scars and little things that made me wonder what kind of a life you’d lived… what you might have gone through... how you came out stronger. And yes, your body is a temple, but it’s the work you put into it that I admire. You know how to take care of yourself and that’s…”

“Hot?”

“Hot.”

Nines accepted a rather sloppy kiss with grace. He rubbed his hands up and down his partner’s back.

“So. Tell me. What was it for you? What is it for you?”

Gavin’s right hand subconsciously found its way into Nines’ long hair and caressed his scalp. He sighed into the crook of Nines’ neck and took in the familiar scent that was neither entirely human nor entirely artificial. Everyone expected androids to smell like a new car but the fact was that each of them had their own unique smell. It was impossible to describe in words, but it was one of the many many things Gavin loved about Nines.

“Babe, I think you’re asking a shit ton of questions, but none of them are what you actually wanna ask.”

“Say more.”

“Gavin, do you love me because I look like a Greek god or is it because I’m smart as phck? Gavin, what did you notice first about my sexy android ass? Does the same thing get you off today, or is it something else?

I think… there’s something you already know… or something you think you know… and you’re just trying to get me to say it and dig myself into a giant hole.”

Nines didn’t respond but his LED did. Gavin chuckled and pressed his lips to the spinning yellow light.

“Called it.”

Nines rolled his eyes.

“It’s my hair, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“Admit it, you’re obsessed with my hair.”

“And you’re obsessed with my tits. We take turns objectifying each other. First sign of a healthy relationship.”

The android’s sharp nose scrunched up at a particular word and Gavin closed his eyes in resignation. Despite his best efforts he’d walked right into the trap.

“Dammit, babe, I didn’t mean it like that. I would never ever see you as an object-”

“My, my… we’re lying here two years to the day we became…”

“A thing.”

“Yes. And here I am reminiscing about what made you even look at me in the first place… and it turns out the credit goes more to Cyberlife than it does to me.”

Gavin groaned while his lover’s tinkling laughter rang out. He had to think fast if he had to turn the tables.

“So I’m that slow?”

Nines looked back at him, confused.

“You just dragged MY instincts. Like I’m dumb enough to fall for a program written by some geeky little code nerd. Like it was all totally predetermined and I didn’t see you tease and flirt and practically fall over yourself trying to get my attention for months. Huh?”

Gavin tightened his grip and gave his partner an affirmative shake.

“All those outfits and nail colours and pointy shoes and sparkly, shiny things. You saw me looking and you just kept stepping it up.”

He grasped Nines’ jaw and kissed him firmly.

“And your hair, baby… yeah, some genius worked on the tech at some point… but they didn’t tell you how to wear it. They didn’t tell you about the length or cut or angle. They didn’t tell you to walk around looking like a phcking prince. They didn’t tell you to roll the car windows down on the highway so your hair could fly in my face and drive me phcking crazy…”

Gavin thrust his fingers into the dark locks and pulled the android back in for a series of open-mouthed kisses and tantalising swipes of his tongue. Nines started to reciprocate physically, but Gavin swatted his hands away, not wanting to let things go further without making it clear who had gained the upper hand in their ridiculous game. He broke away panting.

“I love you. Don’t ask me why because there isn't one single reason. And I phcking love your hair. Not just ’cause it’s pretty but ’cause you’re the only motherphcker in that precinct who’d show up to the gristliest of crime scenes looking like a runway model.”

They stared at each other. Nines’ LED flickered.

“I… wow, sweetheart… okayyy… I… love you too.”

A moment of silence passed and Gavin rounded things off with his classic double wink.

“You’re welcome.”

Nines smiled, accepting defeat. He reached up and carefully rearranged his hair, letting it fan out on the pillow. Unable to keep the smile off his face, Gavin dipped his head down and returned his lips to Nines’, kissing him under the covers until his LED spun bright blue.

Gavin Reed never had nice things… until he learnt how to take good care of them.

//

Part 2: Red Dress

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 10

.

@pocketramblr :)

.

One day - and not even a whole day, because of travel time and Inko wanted Izuku home for dinner- simply wasn't enough time to master a quirk. Although he could turn Float on and off, now. So, they made plans to come back next week, and the next, up until the sports festival. Which. Wow. Really was only two weeks away.

Izuku had never realized how close to the beginning of the school year it was.

He was going to die.

"You're not going to die," said Mr. Yagi. "I'm not going to say the sports festival isn't important, because it is, it's one of the best ways to make professional connections for students, but not doing well isn't the end of the world, especially not in your first year. No one expects you to be perfectly polished."

"But," said Izuku, "I'm supposed to be the next you! I've got to stand out, right?"

Mr. Yagi looked very guilty. "I... may have given you that impression when we were first training, yes. But, since then, with all my research into the past holders... few of them were popular, flashy heroes. If you want to walk the same path as me, that's great. But you don't have to. Even I didn't really start that chapter of my life until after college."

Izuku looked down at his hands, letting silence fill the space between them as he contemplated Mr. Yagi's words. "This isn't about me manifesting One for All differently, is it?"

"What? No, no of course not, my boy. I mean, it certainly helped me come to this conclusion, I wouldn't have done so much research without it! But I certainly hope I would have come to the same conclusion eventually, even so."

"Okay..." said Izuku, still dubious.

"I mean it," protested Mr. Yagi. "Most of my work is essentially underground, you know. There's a reason the battle trial was what it was."

"H-huh? You? Underground? But you're so recognizable!"

"Am I? I firmly believe in bringing all my resources to bear in the fight against evil! Ha ha!"

His laugh devolved into a cough, and he fumbled for a handkerchief. But he recovered quickly enough.

"I guess that makes sense," said Izuku, cautiously, once he thought Mr. Yagi wasn't going to start coughing again.

"You didn't think I stayed number one by popularity alone, did you?"

"I- the formulas the Hero Commission uses to determine rankings are secret, and it only includes spotlight heroes, so when I extrapolated the hero billboard rankings, yes, I assigned a high weight to popularity. There were always some discrepancies between my predictions and the end results, but I figured I missed some events, or the commission assigned them different values…"

"That's quite impressive, my boy. But, though popularity is a factor, the HPSC does take unpublicized fights and rescues into account. Assuming you report them…"

That was the second time Mr. Yagi had mentioned not telling the commission something.

"Do you, um, do you do that a lot? Not tell the commission things, I mean."

"Eh? No, no, I try to stay up on my paperwork. I get a lot of help from Naomasa, though. Some heroes, especially independent ones, without an agency, do have trouble keeping up, sometimes."

"It's just… the other day you said something about not telling the commission about All for One."

"Ah," said Mr. Yagi. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "You're quite right. How should I put this… The HPSC knows All for One exists, and I have made them generally aware of his modern exploits. I haven't told them about his ability to give quirks, though they may know through other avenues, there are certain battles I've had with him that I haven't told them about, and they do not know about One for All."

“Why not?”

“Villains aren’t the only ones who seek power,” said Mr. Yagi. “The HPSC provides a vital service, and I think what one does matters more than why one does it, but… it is my observation that many of the people there are more concerned with personal power than doing the right thing. And positions of power and authority tend to draw in those who would abuse those things."

"Even heroics?"

"Especially heroics. The HPSC Ethics Review Board is supposed to stop that, but no system is perfect." He shook himself. "But look at me! I was trying to give you a pep talk, not saddle you with doubts about the government!"

Izuku laughed, nervously. "I mean, you've definitely distracted me from the sports festival…"

“Yes. The sports festival. Don’t worry about making a big spotlight combat debut. If you want to focus on rescue, or investigation, or the underground, I’ll support you all the way.” He paused. “You do need combat, though, because, because of-”

“All for One?”

“Yes, exactly. All for One.”

.

“Way to kill the mood, guys,” said Banjo.

“I think the mood was thoroughly dead already,” said Yoichi.

“Unlike your brother,” said En. “Ninth’s father.”

“Come on, it was just a little omission of information. It wasn’t even a lie!”

“It was definitely a lie. You’re so lucky that my relief about you not being a pedophile eclipsed my righteous fury regarding your mendacity.”

“You know, the fact that you’re delivering that completely deadpan gives me doubts about the fury part.”

“I’m mad at you.”

“You love me.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be mad at you.”

“Hey, hey, wait a minute,” said Nana, making a ‘T’ shape with her hands. “Time out. Ninth’s father is All for One.”

“Yes,” said Yoichi, hanging his head, “I thought that had been established.”

“So, are we… What Toshinori is saying is completely valid, by the way… but, are we expecting this kid to fight his father? Is that a thing we’re doing?”

“Uh,” said Yoichi, “in our defense, we did think he was dead.”

“Maybe Eighth will get ‘im before Ninth has to deal with it,” suggested Banjo. “He’s got to have a better chance of that, now what with Fa Jin and all.” He paused. “But, you know what would give Ninth an even better chance, if he does have to fight his deadbeat dad-”

“He’s not a deadbeat,” interrupted Hikage.

“What?”

“Calling him a deadbeat would imply that he is neither supporting the Midoriyas financially nor regularly in contact with them. He is on both counts.”

“What?” squealed Bango.

“Did you miss his phone call with his father immediately following his return home after the USJ attack?”

“Oh,” said Yoichi, “no, I was very aware of my brother’s evil, evil voice. It’s just that these guys were too focused on scolding me to listen to anything I had to say. I still can’t believe he sent someone like that to attack his own son’s class.”

“Didn’t he, like, kill you?” asked En.

“No, my death was largely unrelated. You’ve got to remember, I was a chronically ill fugitive from the law with no money. Who told you that he killed me?”

Everyone looked at their immediate predecessor. Yoichi tracked the path back to Third, who had gone very stiff.

“What the heck, Third? You were there when I died. Why would you tell Hikage that?”

Third did not answer.

“Actually, what did he tell you, Hikage?

“Oh, it was very moving and heroic. It happened while you were saving a busload of metahuman orphans. You sacrificed yourself to let them get away from All for One. I even cried a little.”

“Is it weird that I’m now disappointed in myself for not dying like that?”

“Very,” said Nana.

“What were we talking about before this?” asked En.

“I have no idea,” said Banjo.

.

Izuku delayed going to class, nervous about everyone's reactions to his quirk. It wasn't that he thought they'd reject him, but more that he had no answers for the inevitable questions.

But he also didn't want to be late.

"Todoroki was so cool!" Hagakure exclaimed as he opened the classroom door. "He was all like, blam, bam, swish! And- and he checked whether or not I was there first, before attacking, which was super cool of him."

Todoroki's expression was halfway between 'statue' and 'help, I've been hit by a truck.' "Cool?"

"Very cool."

"You've grown since the first day, kero."

"Ah! Midoriya!"

All heads turned towards him. In the next second, he was hugged by several people, which was more friendly skin contact than he'd had since… ever, probably.

"Eep," he said.

"We were so worried about you," said Uraraka. "We made a group chat, after, but since you were unconscious…"

"Hm," said Monoma, "your quirk still is definitely a stockpile…"

"Monoma!" shouted Iida. "Did you join this hug just to copy quirks?"

"And what of it?"

"But speaking of quirks," said Jiro, "you can fly now? We kind of went along with it at the time, but that's kind of different from a sensory quirk."

"I know," said Izuku, "and I have no explanation."

"Maybe your quirk stockpiles danger," said Monoma, contemplatively. He rubbed his chin with one finger. "That could be why you can sense danger- you're stockpiling it. Then, when the danger gets over a certain threshold, you can release it as flight… why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Oh, nothing," drawled Kaminari. "Just that you're more thoughtful than you look, pretty boy."

"I don't want to hear that from you."

"Th-thank you, Monoma! I'll have to mention it when I go to quirk counseling next."

Which may or may not be this afternoon, depending on how Mr. Aizawa felt and- His head snapped to the door. "Mr. Aizawa's coming!"

They all rushed to their seats. The door creaked open.

"Oh my gosh, he's a mummy."

.

"Iida?"

"What is it, Midoriya?"

They were having a bit of a break during English while Present Mic cycled them through for short sessions with Hound Dog.

"I didn't have a chance to ask you earlier, but how's your brother?"

“He’s alright! It’s the first really major injury of his career, so he’s going to take it easy for the rest of the month, to make sure his engines heal properly. He’d prefer not to of course, but, ah, there is a silver lining.”

“That’s good,” said Izuku, encouragingly.

“I really shouldn’t be happy about it,” said Iida, rubbing the back of his neck, “but he’ll be able to come see me during the sports festival, and he probably would have been too busy if he were active.”

“I think it’s okay to be happy about good things, even if they happen because of bad things,” said Izuku. “It isn’t like we can go back and make the bad things not happen, after all…”

“That’s very true, Midoriya! What a mature way of thinking about things.”

Izuku didn’t know about that, but he was willing to take the compliment.

.

“Midoriya,” said Shouta, who was absolutely and unquestionably recovered enough to teach. Even if he had zoned out in the corner of the room in his sleeping bag all morning rather than trekking back to the teacher’s lounge… or teaching any of his other classes… shut up. “What are you doing at the window?”

“O-oh. Mr. Aizawa. I didn’t know you were awake?”

It was, maybe, a little unfair to single Midoriya out like that, since the entire class was standing by the window, and the way Uraraka, Sero, and Midoriya were closest to it, with Monoma a close fourth, was concerning, but Midoriya was the first one Shouta saw, and the one most likely to to cave and tell him what was going on.

“Midoriya.”

“R-right. Well, going out the door seems a little unpleasant today, so we thought we’d switch it up?”

What did that even mean?

“We were going to bring you with us, of course,” continued Midoriya.

What did that even mean?

“Out the window.”

“Um. Yes.”

“What kind of unpleasant are we talking about?”

“Battle trial unpleasant?”

Shouta groaned and hauled himself up, walking over to the door. He looked out the window and made note of all the students from other classes standing out there, circling like sharks. Great. Maybe they needed to have an assembly about respecting boundaries or whatever, especially if the people whose boundaries were being crossed were potentially traumatized.

Something to bring up at the next staff meeting he attended. Which… would probably not be soon.

Anyway.

He opened the door.

(“A mummy,” whispered someone.)

(First his kids, then these kids… he wasn’t that wrapped up.)

(Was he?)

“What are you all doing here?” he asked, voice rasping rather more than he wanted it to.

The students didn’t seem inclined to answer. Someone did mutter something about the sports festival, but it was far from the complete answer that Aizawa wanted.

“Right. Whatever. Scoping out the competition is one thing, but you are aware that class 1-A is recovering from a traumatic experience. And you’re blocking traffic. Clear off.”

The crowd slowly dispersed. Shouta sighed. He knew this would only be the first of many such incidents. He made a note to talk to Nemuri about whether or not she’d be willing to donate some of her class time to talk about public relations.

.

“You know,” said Nemuri, “if you actually rested, Recovery Girl would be able to heal you.”

“I know nothing of the sort,” said Shouta, glaring at his desk in the staff room. “I’m forgetting something.”

All Might walked in. “Er, young Aizawa,” he said. He paused for a painfully long, awkward moment. “Are you still meeting with young Midoriya today?”

“Crap.”

.

Did Izuku expect Mr. Aizawa to come to their meeting? No. The man had casts on all of his limbs. But, he hadn’t cancelled it either. So, better safe than sorry, right?

But it had been a while, now. Izuku could probably safely assume he wasn't coming after a half hour. He got up, packed his bags, and reached out for the door handle-

Only to freeze as Mr. Aizawa yanked it open and pulled Mr. Yagi into the classroom after him.

Izuku scurried back to his seat.

"Nothing physical today," croaked Mr. Aizawa. "We're going to figure out your quirk."

“O-okay,” said Izuku.

Aizawa collapsed into the seat behind the teacher's desk. “To be short, this quirk, One for All or whatever, is complete nonsense.”

“Uh,” said Mr. Yagi. “Sorry?”

“Sorry,” whispered Izuku.

“You should be. Not you, Midoriya. You’re fine.”

“Okay?”

“Right. So. You’ve got two quirks right now. Danger Sense and Float. Unless something else showed up over the weekend?”

“No, it’s, um, it is just those two right now.”

“And you’ll most likely get Smokescreen, Blackwhip, and that strength enhancement eventually. Plus two mystery quirks.”

“That is what I’ve been able to find out,” said Mr. Yagi.

“So, we have to figure out some way to get all those under a coherent umbrella that can account for the mystery quirks, and before the sports festival, so the evil immortal supervillain doesn’t notice that you have quirks just like a bunch of people he had personal beef with.”

Mr. Yagi cursed in English. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Yeah, I wonder what else you haven’t thought about. Maybe this year I can get Nezu to take my suggestion about doing hero names before the sports festival seriously. You know we’ve had people stalk students before because for some godforsaken reason we use their real names? I need a drink.”

“Ah, water?”

“No.”

“Young Aizawa, you’re a teacher…”

“A career choice I question daily. Midoriya, do you have any thoughts about how to make your quirk make sense in a way that won’t get you killed or abducted by the HPSC?”

“I- Does that happen?” despite his conversation with Mr. Yagi over the weekend, he still had generally positive thoughts about the hero commission.

“I have no idea. Wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Well, um, I was talking to Monoma earlier, and he said something about stockpiling danger, and how it might let out the stockpile as the energy necessary to levitate- which, really, would be a fascinating quirk if it did work that way- but I thought it might also work for Smokescreen and the strength enhancement? I mean, general responses to danger are fight, flight, or hide, so the strength enhancement is fight, Float is flight, and Smokescreen would be hide…”

“That might work. What about Blackwhip.”

“Yeah, that one has kind of stumped me.”

“Blackwhip sure is a problem,” agreed Mr. Aizawa.

.

The ghosts started laughing. “You’re a problem, Banjo,” chortled Nana.

“Come on, guys, that isn’t funny!”

"It is! It's hilarious!"

"They were just talking about All for One tracking the kid down and killing him!"

The mood sobered quickly.

"Considering that he is Ninth's father," said Hikage, "I suspect it's far too late for that."

"Yeah," said Yoichi. "But, just to be safe, and in case there are other weirdos out there, new rule: no giving him new quirks in public. Not that we can do anything about when he eventually manifests the stockpile…"

"What if he's going to die?" asked Hikage, raising his hand.

"He already got your quirk, why do you care?"

"We'd like to hear it," said Banjo, somewhat forcefully.

"Well, if he looks like he's going to die, do whatever you can to stop that from happening, I guess. But chucking a quirk he doesn't know how to use isn't always going to be the beat answer."

"Wait," said Nana. "Hold up a second. A few days ago we were talking about the potential for multiple quirk brain damage, weren't we?"

"Oh, good catch," said Yoichi. "I guess I forgot to mention it, which means Nana is the only one I'd trust babysitting my nephew in the event a quirk rewound him to elementary school age-"

"That is a suspiciously specific scenario," said En.

"-and all the rest of you are fired. You didn't even question giving him more quirks? Really?"

Hikage raised his hand. "I assumed you had discovered that Ninth had a constitution capable of handling multiple quirks, similar to yourself and your brother."

"That is true. Okay, Hikage would be another exception, but he's disqualified from babysitting for other reasons."

"That's fair."

.

"So we need something that can do all that, and has tentacles," said Izuku, squeezing his bottom lip in thought.

"Yeah," said Mr. Aizawa. "Honestly, even really dumb ideas would be welcome right now."

"Why are you looking at me?" asked Mr. Yagi.

"You know why."

There was only one creature Izuku could think of that could do all the things Izuku one day might be able to while maintaining room for the two mystery quirks. "Cthulhu."

Mr. Yagi looked mildly scandalized at the suggestion.

"Nah, it'd have to be something like eldritch. Cthulhu's trademarked in Japan, and that can give you aboveground types trouble."

"What is it a trademark for?" asked Mr. Yagi.

"Ask Midnight. I don't want to talk about it."

"Ah," said Mr. Yagi.

"The problem with that is that you currently have no justification to call it that. Now if you already had Smokescreen…"

The adults looked at him.

"... I don't think it's going to just show up like that," said Izuku.

.

"Why not?" asked Banjo, staring at En. "They practically asked you for it."

"Well, first off, I live for drama, so jot that down."

"Huh? What about me?" asked Yoichi.

"Nothing, it was just an idiom. Second…"

.

"...Right," said Aizawa. “For now, then, we’ll have to give it a temporary name, because it’s starting to get to the point in time where it’ll actually be illegal for you to not register it.” He shuffled his casts. “Yagi, start filling out those forms with what he can do currently. Midoriya, make sure you check him when he’s done. For now, we’ve got to come up with a name.”

“Um,” said Izuku. “Float’s the only one that’s really visible, so I could just call it Float?”

“Vetoed. You aren’t picking a name that the immortal supervillain knows.”

“He did seem to only refer to people by quirks unless he really hated them,” said Mr. Yagi. “Except his brother, who he always called ‘my foolish brother.’”

“Focus on the paperwork.”

“And he called himself by his quirk name as well,” mused Izuku. “Do you think it was a side effect? Quirks have document impact on people’s personalities-”

“Focus.”

“R-right. Um. Feather Fall? No, that’s part of a game. Flight Reflex?”

“Good enough for now,” said Aizawa. “Flight Reflex it is.”

[makeste]

so let’s talk about the new bak-u-go stuff

hey guys, so long story short, I took all of the bak-u-go stuff out of my weekly liveblog/recap post, and put it into its own separate post so that it didn’t take over the recap completely. so this is my big “all of my thoughts about the second OFA user’s vestige in chapter 304” post, basically.

my opinion going into the chapter

okay so without mincing words, my very controversial stance on this theory going in was more or less, “yes, I do think that maybe that Bakugou-shaped shadow who looks exactly like Bakugou could, in fact, be Bakugou.” not only that, but it strikes me as much more feasible than the alternatives, “Bakugou’s ancestor who looks exactly like him was the second user of OFA for some reason, and Horikoshi keeps hiding his face because... we don’t really know”, or “this is just some random guy with spiky hair, and again his face is being hidden just because.”

like, there is some reason we’re not allowed to know what he looks like, especially at this point. and writing-wise, there are really only three possible explanations for this. (1) it’s a red herring meant to trick us for some reason, (2) his character design hasn’t been completed yet, or (3) something about this character’s appearance is a spoiler, and the reveal is supposed to be a surprise.

regarding (1), I actually think this is the case with the Third. clearly he is not Kirishima as some had speculated. he doesn’t appear to be familiar at all. so if that’s the case, why is his face also being hidden? my theory is that it’s simply to lampshade the fact that the Second is being hidden as well. if Second was the only vestige whose face we couldn’t see, it would be beyond obvious at that point that he was someone familiar to us. having another vestige doing the same weird stuff makes him stand out slightly less.

anyways though, as far as Second himself being a red herring, I guess he could be. but a red herring for what? not to say it isn’t possible, but I don’t really see what the purpose would be.

regarding (2), this is a remote possibility, but imo it would be pretty uncharacteristic of Horikoshi. plus by this point he’s had more than enough time to flesh the design out. all of the other vestige character designs are completed, and we’ve seen all of Second and Third except their fronts and faces by this point. so I’m gonna go out on a limb and say this isn’t the reason.

which leaves (3): this character’s identity is important in some way, and is being purposely kept secret. this to me implies that it must be someone we know (because otherwise it wouldn’t be a spoiler). which basically means that no matter what, the possibilities are about to get weird.

my thoughts on the new “evidence” in the chapter

first off, my biggest impression is that there really isn’t much new evidence at all either way lol. but okay, let’s review what we got.

I’m ignoring Third at this point because I honestly have no idea who he is. he may very well be someone we haven’t met yet, so I don’t think there’s much point in speculating. so let’s focus on Second instead.

the hair

first off, his hair isn’t quite right to be Bakugou’s. it’s darker than Bakugou’s hair usually is, at least in the close-up, and also the hair on the nape of his neck doesn’t quite look right; it’s got more of an undercut vibe than Bakugou’s usually does. Bakugou’s hair is usually more out-of-control dandelion puff from the back.

so yeah, I’m not sold by this image. though on the other hand, I will say that as far as the argument that his hair is too dark, that’s undermined by the wide angle panel right before the close-up in which his hair isn’t colored in at all.

so yeah, it could just be something about the lighting in the close-up. also, the RHA scan seems to have upped the contrast a bit more than the original image.

here it doesn’t seem to be quite as dark compared to the wall he’s standing against. I could be wrong, though; we’ll get a better idea when the official version is released in a couple days.

but overall the style of the hair seems more off to me than the color. on the whole, I’m not really convinced either way here, so I’ll move on.

the rest of him

okay so first off, obviously this is not Bakugou’s current hero costume in any way, shape or form. honestly my first thought was “what is Shippuuden-era Naruto doing here in the OFA Mystical Space Land” lol. so yeah, no idea what that’s all about.

however he does have gauntlets! so this is definitely someone with some sort of arm or hands-related quirk. and Kacchan does have a new gauntlet design that we’ll see in movie 3, so it’s not outside the realm of possibility that these could be another new design along those lines. that said, these are clearly not his current big ugly grenade-style gauntlets.

last but not least, this person seems older than Bakugou, which for me makes me considerably less enthused about the possibilities here, since I’m a weirdo who likes the idea of a timeskip even less than most people seem to like the idea of time travel, lol. then again there really isn’t much here to support that “he seems older” statement; that’s just the general vibe I get from him, idk.

I will say though that he has Kacchan’s same triangle-shaped torso with the same broad shoulders and upper back tapering down into a more slender build. that stuck out to me right away when I looked at this image. but he really does give off Naruto vibes as well lol, like I can’t unsee it sob.

anyway, and last but not least,

the hidden faces

because so far most of the attention seems to be on their appearances. but those aside, this chapter introduces a very interesting question that this mystery will have to address one way or the other. namely, why are these two vestiges turned around and not interacting with the others?

“so that we can’t see their faces, duh” -- no, I get that, lol. but let’s talk in-story explanation now. why are they huddled in the time-out corner not moving or speaking? what could possibly be the reason for that. we can see them clearly enough, so we know that they’re “unlocked” and fully formed in that sense. All Might’s vestige is the only one that’s not yet visible, and supposedly that’s because he was quirkless?? and so he didn’t have a quirk factor that could be passed down through OFA initially. though I didn’t quite understand all of that part tbh.

but so then what’s the deal with these two losers? are they just antisocial or what? OFA First says that the vestige souls which were chilling out inside of OFA gradually gained the ability to take a physical form as OFA grew more powerful. and these two clearly have taken a physical form. so then why don’t they talk? there are only a few explanations for this that I can see.

(1) it could be that these guys are still alive, just like All Might (who doesn’t seem to be able to speak either, although the other vestiges can communicate with him in other ways).

(2) or, these guys are purposely hiding from Deku for some reason. (or at least, hiding as best as they can in this weird little rock slab floating in space.)

that’s it. if anyone else can think of more possibilities let me know because I’ve been sitting here racking my brain lol. this is all I can come up with. and honestly, either of these explanations would be suspicious as hell, theory-wise. if these two vestiges are still alive, that almost guarantees time travel right there. and if it’s simply that they’re hiding themselves from Deku, then that begs the question of why. which, again, leads us back to “they’re familiar, and Deku would recognize them.” (though that last bit goes against what I was saying earlier about the Third, doesn’t it. honestly I’m just spitballing here now, I haven’t really thought this all out too thoroughly.)

soooo... yeah. that’s pretty much where I’m at. nothing about this seems to make any more sense than it did a chapter ago tbh. though I will end this post by addressing one more thing, just cuz.

“this theory is dumb and makes no sense”

the correct statement to make here isn’t “this makes no sense”; it’s “we don’t know what’s going on yet.” if and when we finally get an explanation, then we can start making judgments about how much sense it does or doesn’t make. but until then we have nothing to base that verdict on.

same thing with “it’s dumb” -- look, “I hate time travel plots because they rarely work” is a valid opinion. but “rarely” isn’t the same thing as “never.” there are good time travel plots out there. idk why everyone keeps rolling with the assumption that this is going to be some cliche plot hole-filled science fiction bs narrative with a tragic ending. we have literally nothing to base that on. we have no answers and a whole lot of questions, is what we have.

maybe it will be disproven! or maybe it won’t, and it will be exactly as awful as everyone thinks and it will ruin the manga entirely. or maybe it will actually be really cool. we don’t know yet. that’s my one and only conclusion here -- that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. but then again I guess it wouldn’t be BnHA fandom if we didn’t. anyway so thus concludes my post.

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

In Session

This one is a doozy. Warnings: m/f sex, over stimulation, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, male masturbation, cum eating, use of mutant abilities in a sexual situation. 18+ please!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The three of you have been home for a couple of weeks now and, unfortunately for poor Bucky, the pixie dust has worn off. All Steve has to do is breathe near you and you go off. He has apologized and apologized but you refuse to let it go. Steve tries to be patient with you. He accepts that what he said gutted you. He is trying to make it up to you but you rebuke all of his attempts.

Quite frankly the whole thing gives Bucky anxiety. As soon as he hears “You know what, Steve?” He reaches for the antacids. In two weeks he was leaving for a semi long trip with Sam and Nat. He needed to set you on the path to healing before he left you two alone. That’s why he hijacked you both and brought you to his therapist.

Dr. Coleman is far more gentle than his VA therapist. She specializes in PTSD and has worked with many first responders and members of law enforcement. She also helps couples to reacclimate following traumatic experiences. Bucky thought that, with the amount of trauma the three of you had suffered, she would be perfect to help.

Neither of you were pleased to be there. The doctor spoke ok Bucky’s behalf at the start of the session. “Steve, Y/N. I’m so glad you’re here. This is an important first step on the path to healing. You are here for each other as much as you are here for yourselves. What we know is the three of you love each other very much. I would like you to keep that in the front of your minds as we go through this journey. I do have a few ground rules. First, we will not raise our voices or become physical here or at home. Second, we will not resort to name calling. Third, we will not shut down when confronted. We will speak on our feelings. Can I gain your agreement on those rules?” You all nodded. “Wonderful. I just need the two of you to sign some consent forms and we’ll be on our way.”

You hated therapists of any kind. You never had a good experience. Grant it, your only experiences were forty something years ago. You were sure there were advances. Still, you were wary of this woman. She does seem to help Bucky. If this is what he needed, you’d do it for him. When she asked Steve to speak first you nearly gagged.

“Steve, tell me why you think we’re all here today.”

He sighed loudly and spoke in a monotone voice like he was in trouble in the principal’s office. “We’re here because our bickering is upsetting Buck.”

“Ok. Can you tell me why you and Y/N have been bickering so much lately?”

“Because he’s impossible to live with.” You said not so under your breath. Steve was quick to react but Dr. Coleman stopped him.

“Y/N, you will have your turn to speak. Please give Steve the courtesy of having his time uninterrupted.” Steve smirked at you. You wanted to reach over and slap him in his smug face but Bucky rested his hand over yours.

“We’re bickering because I said a horrible thing to Y/N and she refuses to forgive me.”

“Right. And what did you say?” Fuck it was like pulling teeth.

“I told her in the heat of an argument that I didn’t want a whore for a wife. But I said I didn’t mean it and that I was sorry. She refuses to move on.”

Dr. Coleman listened to both of your sides and gave you some short term and long term goals. She asked you to open the door for better communication. She understood why you were so upset, especially since his admission was premeditated. She tasked Steve with finding a way to come to terms with what you do. Now that he knows why he feels the way he does, it is time to confront those feelings as his own and stop projecting them onto you. She also suggested that, while Bucky was gone, the two of you should do couple things. Your love was not linked exclusively through Bucky.

The three of you left feeling a little lighter. You made promises to each other and you intended to keep them. The couple of weeks leading up to Bucky’s trip were fine. There was something hanging in the air that made Bucky nervous. Like you two were just waiting for him to leave so you could unload on each other. Steve promised he wouldn’t make faces when you left for your appointments. You promised not to snap at him over every little thing. He didn’t believe either of you.

The night before he left, Steve fell asleep on the couch. You were already in bed half asleep yourself. It was rare when you had alone time. When they were in deep Avengers mode, you cherished your privacy. Maybe it was time to start thinking of getting a bigger place.

Bucky came out of the shower still warm and a little damp. He smelled like cedar and fresh rain. He dropped his towel and slipped under the covers. Compared to him your skin felt cool when you pressed your bare ass against him. “You’re so warm, daddy.”

“I needed that hot shower after the training session Steve and I had. I wore him out.”

“Mmmm. I bet you did. Did you fuck in the gym again?”

His laugh rumbled against your back. “Not this time. Should I go wake him?”

“No. We haven’t had a moment alone since he moved in. This is gonna sound disgusting but I kind of like it when you’re sweet with me.” You didn’t have to say anymore. He slid his hands under your arms to palm your breasts and pressed gentle kisses along your neck and spine. With his knee he parted your legs so he could stroke your warmth. You whined in his mouth when he ran your slick over your clit. He took his time pumping his fingers inside of you coaxing tiny whimpers and moans out of your body. “Fuck me, Jamie.”

You had never called him Jamie during sex until you told him you loved him. His name falling from your lips became his favorite sound. You invoked him like you were invoking God praying for peace. Your cunt fluttered and squeezed his cock bringing you both to your end. “I love you, Jamie.”

“Oh my…I love you too, baby. I’m gonna miss you so much.” He stayed inside of you keeping his spend deep inside of your channel and fell asleep. Sam would be there early.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Your calendar was pretty full the first week Bucky was gone. Most of your appointments were during the day. Steve was back and forth between the apartment and compound. You settled into a pleasant routine like a normal couple with typical careers and predictable schedules. You even got through a meeting when a realtor without a single clenched jaw.

“Do you have time for lunch?” He was so hopeful. You promised Bucky.

“Yeah. I think so.” He took your hand and held it all the way to a cute little spot down the street. “I like this neighborhood. Not far from the subway. Walkable.”

“I like it too. I’ve seen a ton of kids out and about.” That made you want to cringe but you held it in. None of you have had the cliche conversation about your futures. Since you were the only one who could bear children, you figured you should speak up.

“Do you want kids?” You kept your eyes on your salad.

“Yeah. I really do. Have you um, been checked out? Can you have children?” God this was awkward.

“I can. I wonder if Hydra has successfully bred a serum baby. Like, it altered our DNA. I wonder what would happen.” His brow furrowed. He really hadn’t thought about that.

“I will have to look into it. That’s something we need to know I guess. Why do we feel so weird around each other?”

“Right?!” You were so glad he felt it too.

“Are you ever going to forgive me?” He asked so quiet and quickly that you almost didn’t hear.

“Before I answer that question can I ask a question?” He nodded. “Why are you ok with me having your babies but not being your wife? I know in therapy you said it scared you and you didn’t care for my clients. I get all of that. Those are valid things. I can’t help but think you don’t like the optics.” That was the million dollar question. Could Captain America be out as polyamorous? You felt like Steve might be a closet Republican. Most of the republicans that were your clients were the biggest freaks.

“There’s nothing our media team can’t spin. I’m not embarrassed by you and Buck. My reasons for disliking your job are exactly what I said. I feel like being out about our relationship puts a target on your back.”

“But that’s not what you said, Steve. You said ‘I don’t want a whore for a wife’. That implies something completely different. I like what I do. Those rich assholes and politicians put money in my purse. A lot of my clients are like us. Freaks of nature. They can’t have normal relationships. I help them. I don’t judge their abilities or physical mutations. We just fuck and they feel normal for a while. Like the guy I’m seeing tonight. He just wants to feel normal.”

Steve was quiet for the rest of lunch. You gave him a lot to think about. He had no idea you saw yourself as a freak of nature or that you saw him that way. Everyone celebrated what Steve was but essentially threw you away. The people on your client list who he saw as villains have been tossed out by the society he swore to protect. He guessed he jumped the shark a bit by even bringing up marriage. Not like you were there yet.

You and Bucky seemed to have a don’t ask don’t tell policy regarding your situation. That was not Steve. He wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew without a doubt that you were safe. Tonight he will follow you. If he ever wanted to move passed his own feelings, he had to know.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tonight you were seeing Erik Lensherr which meant you had to be prepared for anything. He never beat you like other idiots did. He wasn’t stupid. Why hit you when it doesn’t hurt? He liked to really bring you to the brink of pain with pleasure. Sometimes he edged you for hours. He loved when you were a drooling sobbing mess begging for relief. That’s what turned him on. After sessions with him, you always took the following day off.

You and Steve had dinner together. You were both much more relaxed. He sat in the bathroom while you got ready. You picked a dress and made sure to have lots of mascara on. Mascara tears were Erik’s favorite. While you put on your jewelry, he stood behind you and kissed your shoulders. You missed his touch. You leaned in and let him put his hands on you.

“You look beautiful, honey.” he said against the back of your neck.

“Thank you. Why don’t you take the day off tomorrow? We can stay in bed all day.”

He smiled that beautiful sunshine smile at you that made your insides liquid. “Really? Does that mean you forgive me?”

You giggled, “No. It means I want to get reacquainted. Forgiveness is not so easy for me. Maybe if you ever put a ring on it, I’ll forgive you.”

“I’ll take it. Will you be out late?” He kissed his way down your neck.

“I’m not really sure. If I know I won’t be coming home I’ll text you. I wouldn’t wait up.” You allowed him to really kiss you. My lord Steve Rogers is an amazing kisser. He is confident and strong in his movements. He kisses with his whole body. Hands roam your back and and shoulders while he presses your body into his. His eyes barely close, making his lashes flutter on the tops of his cheeks. And he softly moans which drives you crazy. Well, at least Erik won’t have to warm you up.

“I love you. Be safe. Call me if absolutely anything is off. Promise.”

“Yes, sir. I love you, too.”

He gave you a thirty second head start before he followed you on his bike. You met Erik at a beautiful brownstone. He held the door for you and kissed both of your cheeks. Steve saw him pour you a drink and direct you to the sofa by the small of your back. You looked comfortable enough. It was clear the two of you were friends. Then, he sat next to you. His movements became predatory. He always kept his hands on you.

Soon he was taking your drink and leading you up the stairs. It was the moment of truth. He could walk away satisfied that you were safe or climb the fire escape to watch. The thought of seeing you in flagrante was turning him on way more than he should have been. Option B it was.

He climbed to the second story where he sat stock still in a darkened corner. The window was cracked a bit so he could hear everything.

The two of you kissed passionately. Erik’s hands found your zipper and made quick work of shedding your dress. He pushed you to the bed which was decorated by an ornate metal head and footboard. He raised his hand and part of the bed broke off bending around your wrists to bind you.

“Too tight, Princess?”

“No, sir.” Next he attached a spreader bar to your ankles springing your legs open wide. “Color?”

“Green.” Your voice was steady but your breath was heaving in your chest. Steve wondered if it was nerves or excitement.

Erik knelt beside you and stroked your face. “How many times shall I make my Princess cum tonight hmm? Shall we try for six?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” He produced a string of metal balls from his pocket and popped them one by one into your mouth. His lips were on yours again. His tongue moved the balls around your mouth clacking them on your teeth. When he was satisfied with their saturation he pried your mouth open with his thumb and removed them. He parted your folds and sunk the balls into your dripping hole one by one. His fingers danced swirling the orbs inside of your cunt. Your back arched off the bed. “Does that feel good, Princess?”

“Yes , sir. So good.”

“Excellent. Princess, I want you to count out loud each time you come. I will edge you for one hour if I don’t hear you.”

“Ah! Yes, sir.” The coil in your belly was building. Erik smiled down on your writhing body. You tried to bring your thighs together but the bar was made of steel. Unless you focused you couldn’t break it.

“Look at you. I bet if I touched you even a little you would cum.” He ran his index finger lightly over your clit and you fell apart.

“One! Oh my…one.” You moaned and that beautiful sound went right to Steve’s cock. He stroked himself outside of his pants at first. He wanted to last as long as you. It would be difficult.

“Good girl. That’s my good, Princess. Doing so well.”

He kept the balls swirling while he licked a stripe up your cunt. His lips closed over your clit. Your hips bucked wildly against his face. You threw your head back against the bed and screamed, “Fuck! Two!”

He pressed the pads of his fingers over your clit and rubbed furiously. “Three” you whimpered.

He smacked your pussy hard. “Didn’t hear you, love.”

“Three, sir.”

“You getting tired on me? You have three more. Color, darling.”

“Green, sir.”

“Oooh. She’s being a warrior tonight. Give me one more in my mouth and I’ll take two on my cock.”

“Yes, sir.”

He went back to licking your snatch. You were sonsensitive. His big hands held you still while he licked and nibbled. Steve leaned on the railing panting. He couldn’t take it anymore. He unsheathed his throbbing member and wrapped it tight in his fist.

You got to four and tears started streaking your face. Erik pulled out the balls and tossed them aside. You mewled at the emptiness in your pussy. Erik undressed. When his cock was free he ran the leaking tip around the hole pushing in ever so slightly. The stretch made you cry out.

“So wet for me. You’re leaking and I haven’t even pushed all the way in. Do you want more?” You nodded so he pulled away. “Use your words or you won’t get to cum.”

“More please, sir. I need it.” He slammed into you letting his pelvis hit your clit hard.

“Was that five, my darling?”

“N…no, sir. M’so close.”

“Give it to me.” His hips pumped faster and faster. You screamed and nearly arched yourself in half.

“Fiiiiive. Yellow, sir.”

“Oh you feel so good around my cock. One more and then I’ll paint your belly and tits.”

Steve pumped his fist in time with Erik’s hips. When you came the sixth time, so did he. Hot ropes of cum dribbled onto his hand. He kept stroking while Erik finished.

“Think you can go for seven? It would make me so proud.” You were much too sensitive.

“Red! Red red red.” Erik pulled out immediately and jerked himself all over your belly and breasts. Out of breath he fell over onto the bed next to you. You looked wrecked. With a wave of his hand your wrists were free. He undid the spreader and kissed you deeply.

“Water, Princess?”

“Yes, please.” He brought you a glass and held it to your lips. He tossed you your dress. You didn’t clean yourself up. That was part of the scene. You went home still sticky with his cum. Steve was feral at the thought of licking another man’s seed off of you. He made it down and onto his bike before you got to the door.

You took your payment and kissed Erik goodbye.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Steve made it into the house moments before you. He changed his clothes and acted like he had been home all night. His heart thumped loud in his ears when he heard your keys in the door.

“Hey, honey. Didn’t expect you so early.” You patted him on the head as you limped into the bathroom.

“Need a shower.”

“Can I join you?” The thought of cumming again nearly made you cry.

“Yes, but only to shower.” He jumped up and followed you. You shook out your hair and went to unzip your dress but his hands were there already.

“You look so pretty right now. All fucked out. You were such a good girl tonight.” Every nerve in your body prickled. He kissed down your neck and the top of your spine.

“Steve, did you follow me?” Your voice was low. Your expression unreadable.

“Are you mad? I just wanted peace of mind. I got a lot more than that. I’m not saying I’ll be ok every time. But, if I’m honest, I’ve been thinking about licking that cum off of you.” Your whole body went warm. A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips as you edged down your dress.

“Did you like what you saw, sweet boy?”

“Mmm. Very much.”

“Did you make yourself cum watching us?”

“I did.” He ground his hard cock into your ass cheek.

“I’m so sticky. Clean me up before we shower.” He knelt in front of you and licked all of the dried cum off of your belly. “Mmm. Good boy.”

“I need to be inside of you so bad. Please can I fuck you?”

“Please fuck me, Steve.”’ He brought you into the shower and soaped you up. After the two of you were clean he kissed you fiercely. He lifted your hips and drove into you. “I can’t wait until Jamie gets home so I can tie you to the chair while he fucks my brains out. Wanna watch Jamie fuck me, sweet boy?” He moaned loudly.

“Yes, ma’am. Wanna watch him pound this pretty pussy.” It wasn’t long before you both lost it.

You got into bed and stretched out on his chest. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I had no idea I would like that.”

You giggled, “We learn something new about ourselves every day.” You both completely passed out.

The next morning Bucky got home early. He was shocked that Steve wasn’t already up. He found the two of you sleeping soundly. He nearly cried at how content you were. Steve opened his eyes and pressed his finger to his lips. Bucky got undressed and crawled in behind you. He pressed a kiss onto your shoulder and laid an arm across your back. He and Steve laced their fingers together.

“Did you make up?” He whispered.

“Something like that. It’s a long story.” You stirred a little.

“Jamie?”

“I’m home, baby doll. Go back to sleep.” He kissed you again and pulled the covers over you.

“K. Steve’s a kinky freak.” You buried your face into Steve to shield you from the sun streaming in from the curtains.

Bucky raised an eyebrow and smiled. Steve kept his eyes closed. “What the fuck happened?”

“Get some sleep. I promise we’ll show you later.” He kissed the back of Bucky’s hand and fell back to sleep. Bucky forced himself to close his eyes. He couldn’t imagine what was going to happen but he couldn’t wait to find out.

[91percentpynch]

jean moreau x pride months

happy pride month kids, here‘s some wholesome jerejean content for your soul!! does this make any sense? no. is it a mess? yes. hope you enjoy this!!

the first pride month

it‘s the beginning of june and jeremy starts acting weird

he smiles more, the real smile normally reserved for winning an exy game or when he‘s alone with jean

he started drawing flags on his face or on his eye lids, jeremy never wore make-up, not more than his usual eyeliner and nail polish

„what does that mean?“, jean asks, pointing at the flags on his cheeks.

„the pink, yellow, blue one means i‘m pan. you know, i like more than one gender, i told you that already. and the grey, purple, white and black one that looks like an arrow? that means i‘m demisexual, you know how i only feel sexual attraction to people i have a bond with? that‘s demisexual. those are pride flags, it‘s pride month. didn‘t you know that?“

of course jean didn‘t know, after all he was locked up in a bassement for 10 years and he didn‘t exactly talk the first time he came over here last year at the end of june.

„what‘s pride month?“, jean asked softly, knowing that jeremy would never judge him, never think he was stupid.

„it‘s a month for lgbtqa+ folks. that stands for lesbians, gays, bisexuals, transgender, questioning, asexuals, aromantics and everything inbetween. we celebrate ourselves this month, show how proud we are of ourselves and our community. we celebrate marsh johnson, the black transgender, gay sex worker who started the riots, stonewell, and basically threw a brick at a police officer and started the fight for gay rights“

„how do you know you‘re not straight?“, jean asked quietly. thinking about the way his mind keeps wandering back to jeremy, keeps wandering back to the thought of kissing him, holding his hand, the feeling of his soft, badly dyed ginger hair between his fingers.

„well i always payed more attention to the personality, than the gender. i never really cared what‘s between the legs. and it took me quite a while to figure out that i only feel sexual attraction to people when i have a connection to them“

„have you ever kissed a guy?“, jean asked, curiously now. in the nest it was forbidden, but kevin wanted to try it once, in the dark of the night, the saftey of their room. jean couldn‘t tell if he enjoyed it or not, he never really felt any kind of attraction really. only bone deep fear. burning anger. and whatever the fuck his heart was doing when kevin held him close.

„yeah, i had a boyfriend throughout highschool, sophmore year until the end of summer of our senior year. and then freshman year of college i had this girlfriend who was really controlling and yeah. that‘s it. have you?“, his voice was soft, it reminded jean of the sunlight forming some kind of halo behind jeremy.

„kevin wanted to try it once. riko caught us. that‘s how it began“, jean replied, a shadow crossing over both his and jeremy‘s face. in a moment of weakness, at the beginning, jean told jeremy what they did to him in the nest, after jeremy accidentally touched him from behind.

„do you want to try it again?“, jeremy asked, a small smile on his lips. „with me, that is“, he added, barely audible.

„okay“, jean replied, leaning in.

jean was a couple inches taller than jeremy, and jeremy had to stand on his tiptoes to close the last few inches between them.

it was a soft kiss, a different than the stolen ones from kevin. better. these tasted like sunlight, like warmth, like home.

jean kissed jeremy back. carefully, softly, being scared he would break him, destroy him with his darkness.

„how was it?“, jeremy smiled at him after they were done, exchanging kisses, not stealing them. they were equals, no one would hurt him for wanting this

„i think i‘m only attracted to you“, jean admitted quietly. „but like not sexually. i don‘t like sex. never did. i never thought anyone was sexually attractive, i never wanted this and i still don‘t. i‘m sorry“

„you don‘t have to apologize, jean. that‘s being called asexual, the lack of sexual attraciton that is. and the not wanting sex part? sex repulsed. very valid. i will never be like them, i will never force you to do anyhting you‘re not comfortable with“

„and what if you miss having sex and want it and i can‘t give it to you?“, jean asked, tears burning behind his eyes. „i‘m not worth of your light, your warmth, your love as it is. i‘m broken, i‘m dark, i‘m everything you don‘t deserve. you deserve someone who is fixed and happy and can give you the entire world and go places without a panic attack and and and“

„ssh, jean. it‘s alright. it‘s alright. i want you. no one but you. i really, really like you and i am glad you like me to. you‘re not broken, you‘re not dark. you are wonderful. and no one is fixed, we‘re all a little broken in our own ways. i struggled with an eating disorder. i have adhd. sometimes i feel a little sad without any reason and can‘t get out of bed. sometimes i can‘t sleep and other days i could sleep for days. i don‘t need the entire world, i just need you“

it was this june, about a year after jean arrived in california, that he not only found a person who saw more in him than his scars, but a person who loved him not despite of them but for them

the second pride month

it‘s been a year since jean and jeremy kissed for the first time. a year full of highs and lows, fights and making up, miscommunication and cuddles, sweet kisses and ones tasting of tears. but it was also the year jean figured out that he might not be a boy after all.

„do you ever feel like you‘re not a entirely a boy?“, jean asked softly, threading his fingers through jeremy‘s soft blonde hair.

„dude, i‘m genderfluid, remember? alvarez bursted in our room and threw these in our face so people could refer to me with the right pronouns“

„that‘s why you changed your middle name to sol isn‘t it? because you like the sun and you like your hispanic heritage and it‘s a female name?“

„exactamente mi corazón“

„what are you today?“, jean asked softly, as he did every day.

„they/them, i don‘t feel like a guy or a girl today. just vibing“

„i- i think i‘m not entirely a boy either. like i know i was born as a boy and i‘m okay with that. but i feel like there‘s more to that. i can‘t put it in words but i think i want to try to go by he/ they. what do you call those people who don‘t quite find in the binary? i think i‘m that“

„that‘s nonbinary darling. i‘m proud of you. you‘re doing great“

jean didn‘t know how to repeat to that so he just decided to pull jeremy closer to him.

this pride month jean found a little part of himself, another puzzle piece to the mystery that his own person and it felt like a tiny little step towards a future he never dreamt he would have.

it was also the month he started wearing nail polish, because he loved the look on jeremy‘s face when they did them. occasionally he will wear some eyeliner.

the third pride month

another year passed, this year jean got himself a support dog. to help with the anxiety attacks. to help him heal.

it‘s a dalmatiner, called luna. she was trained to feel when he is uncomfortable and come closer to him, licking his hands, being close, being there

it is also the month he wanted to join jeremy for pride

„what are you today?“

„a girl i think. jeremy or sol are both fine“

„will you draw the flags on my face?“, he asked on the day of the parade.

„are you sure you want to go honey?“, sol asked softy, while she went to the bathroom to get her things.

„would i have asked if it wasn‘t moi amour?“, jean replied. „wait hold on, don‘t answer that“, he laughed looking at jeremy‘s face.

„but i‘m sure. first of all it makes you happy. second of all you missed it the last two years. third of all it will piss kevin off and i love that almost as much as i love. and lastly i have luna, she makes sure i‘m fine and i can always leave when i feel uncomfortable“

„okay, babe. what do you want me to do?“

„i want my flags on my face and maybe you can do my nails“, jean replied, smiling at jeremy as he did ever so often. „cover the tatoo, will you?“, he asked softly, touching the cursed three, counting the days for his cover up appointment in july.

„it‘s soon gone honey. it‘s gonna be alright“, jeremy whispered, feeling the tension in jean‘s shoulders.

„which color do you want your nails? mine are pastel rainbow look! alvarez got me those for my birthday last month! do you want matching nails?“

„whatever you want darling, you can choose“

„neat!“

this year jeremy‘s hair were a soft pink. it was 2 am when he bursted into the room whisper shouting „jean i‘m gay i must do something drastic to my hair. help me?“ and who was jean to question his beautiful date mate.

so jeremy took jean‘s face carefully in his hands, starting to draw jean‘s pride flags (demiromantic, asexual, nonbinary) on his face, hiding his tattoo underneath the black/ white/grey/ purple stripes of the asexual pride flag.

„they have no power over you anymore mi corazón. and if anyone gives you shit i will come for them“, jeremy whisperes against jean‘s lips before softly kissing them. „and now give me your beautiful hands so i can do your nails. i‘m feeling a pastel rainbow“

for the parade jean is wearing one of the shirts jeremy got him. it‘s yellow with a rainbow on it. „so you have a little brightness in your life“, he would tell him when he go it for him. it was before they started dating. it was before jean was able to tell him „but you are the brightest thing in the world and somehow you chose me as your person“, paired with light blue ripped jeans and his yellow fans. they started wearing yellow when they came to california, cutting off black completely, replacing it with colors and brightness.

jeremy on the other hand wore rainbow dungarees with a white shirt and white doc martens. his hair was up in two space buns, little pride flags put into them.

„do you think they get the hint?“, she smiled with a blinding smile.

„you‘re so unbelieveably beautiful sol“, jean replied.

they got luna and went to the parade.

it was scary, yes. but it was also beautiful.

people approaching them, asking for selfies, talking to him.

at first he was a bit anxious, but sol took their hand and luna licked his feet and it was alright. no one was hurting him. no one would punish him. he was surrounded by pride and love and happiness.

at some point he asked a girl with rainbow hair, she reminded him of renee, if she could take a picture of him and jeremy. she said yes, took one of them smiling, one of them kissing, and one of them where jeremy just smiled at his person.

it was the pride month he came out via social media. it was the pride month kevin called at two am, telling him how happy he was for them. that he himself found a boy, fell for him, but is too much a coward to do something about it. it‘s the year where he gets a lot of love, many fans telling him how proud they are of him and at least the same amount of hate. but it was alright. they had jeremy and that was all that truly mattered.

now

year after year they returned to the pride parade, with flags on their faces, or around their shoulders

sometimes neil and andrew or aaron and kevin would join them, sometimes they would go with laila and alvarez and sometimes jean and jeremy would go on their own

after college jean quit exy, jeremy went pro and gave his money to moriyamas, while jean opened his own tattoo studio, wrote songs, wrote crappy poetry and slightly better novels, tried himself as a part time model and fashion designer

they found happiness and home in each other and celebrated their love not only in pride but also every single day of the year

jean and jeremy got more dogs, an apartment of their own with big windows so they could watch the sunrise and sunset together

they have their ups and downs, like every other couple, but that doesn‘t matter. never did. what truly matters is that they keep finding back to each other. that they keep ending up in the same bed, in each others arms.

jean moreau never believed in love, never believed in soulmates and yet he found their soulmate, found the love of his life. and they are happy they stayed, kept fighting, to find this. to make a difference to the world. to be finally free. to be alive, living instead of only existing.

„jean?“, jermey says, fidgeting with his fingers.

„what is it moi soleil?“, jean relies getting lost in these ocean blue eyes.

„do you remember what happened five years ago?“, jeremy asks, his eyes looking anywhere but jean.

„we kissed for the first time?“, jean answers, panic slowly crawling through his veins.

„exactly so i thought we could celebrate this at the beach. you know, where our first date was?“, jeremy says nervously.

„honey are you alrighgt?“, jean is getting more and more worried, jeremy has never been that nervous.

„sure, come on mi corazón“

so jean slowly gets up and carefully puts on his shoes. something is weird here, something is wrong

jeremy seems off the entire ride to the beach they had their first date at.

when they arrive jean takes jeremy‘s hand, noticing that they are shaking ever so slightly. it is something like a nervous tick of them.

jean and jeremy arrive at the beach in time to watch the sun setting, making place for her lover the moon.

jean looks over to jeremy, when they suddenly get up and start pacing.

„jer, you‘re scaring me. please tell me what‘s going on up there“, jean says touching his head lightly.

„okay. i can do this“, jeremy mumbles as he gets down on his knee. „jean moreau, you are the love of my life. the light of my existence. ever since i saw you for the first time i knew i liked you, more than i was supposed to. i never dared to hope you would ever like me, or love me for that matter, but somehow you did. somehow you didn‘t turn away when i told you i‘m demi or pan or genderfluid. you stayed. you supported me. you love me. and i want to spend the rest of my life with you, so do me the favour and in the name of god, should they exist, do me the favour and marry me“

jean feels tears running his cheeks. „of course i will marry you, you loser“, he laughs, as he pulls jeremy down to him and connects their lips together. and it feels like their first kiss. it always does. and they would do that for the rest of their lives.

[legionofpotatoes]

I love your art, it is very detailed in a neat way. Was wondering how you got started making it as a source of income? How did you get your first paid work, I'd love some advice on how to get started, if that's ok

Thank you. Of course it's okay, although I doubt I have enough work experience in art to really delve into this. I only went full freelance this year, and had been juggling art as a side hobby until then. If you're still interested in my somewhat narrow perspective, and are okay with my long-winded rambles, I'll give it a shot:

So to answer your question fully, I'll describe how I started and move into personal advice and learnings later on. As a disclaimer, I am a white cishet dude in my late twenties with a moderate cocktail of mental illnesses, but overall I can pass for a functioning adult so a lot I have to say may come laced with privilege I cannot fully identify.

So uhh I began drawing in around 2012? I think? Maybe halfway through 2011? And I mostly made fanart for things I enjoyed and tried to branch out in communities that felt nourishing to my style and interests (I caught a bug for alt posters and enjoyed mainstream movies so I spent a long time on posterspy early on). There were a handful of opportunities that came from there but I could only accept a couple because of primary workplace commitments. Still, it showed that networking in a focused community was definitely a good place to start; I myself have huge trouble committing to social networks and really staying socially active, but I knew it was an essential ingredient in succeeding so I tried to make myself be involved in challenges and art support trains etc. as much as I could.

In parallel to all that I also ran a few third party online stores (redbubble, teepublic) for disposable income and would sometimes, if rarely, hit around $100-150 a month from those sources combined. It is a sort of thing that requires helper accounts on other social media sites to promote it on, because the stores themselves have a huge volume of content that translates into low organic discoverability. Obviously it was never gonna be the way towards financial independence through art, and with community projects being few and far between, I opened private commissions in around uhhh 2017 I think, focusing on offering a few styles I knew I could do well, and sometimes operating in individual fandoms (it was mostly a bioware thing to be frank). But I had to close them back down after a year or so, again because of work-life conflict and how badly it was burning me out. The reason I kept trying to monetize this hobby is because I honestly hated what I did for my main job and wanted to see a way out in some shape or form in the future.

And then in 2020 I had to quit my main job altogether because of *gestures at pandemic* and deal with a mental breakdown from all the wonderful things it did to us and me specifically. I took a short break and decided to give art a shot full-time, and that was around May this year. I was planning on opening up commissions again (and I still am), but a few sudden opportunities that fell in my lap moved that timetable down and now I'm grateful to even be doing something I am getting adequately paid for.

So, with that somewhat limited perspective, here's what I've learned that I'd tell myself if I was just starting out:

1. Being a fan of something can be a shortcut towards effective networking kickoffs. Which are important evidently. If you love something and enjoy making content for it, join communities, settle into a combination of social media websites that feel right for those interests + your body of work + your inner rhythm, and try to play to content discovery as much as your mental health allows you to. Like I said, I know that I myself am incredibly bad at self-motivating to talk to people, so I found that synergizing common interests into fanart - which I enjoyed making anyway - could be a way to give myself a gentle nudge forward and build those bridges leading to community activities, which then net experience and coverage. Sometimes even freelance projects from official avenues. Again; picking the right spaces for what you're after is key. Companies roam twitter, concept art recruiters scour artstation or linkedin etc, instagram can land you private commissions and collab opportunities, so on and so forth. Find your niche and try to kick up dust. However...

2. I do not believe that any social profile can replace a good portfolio. The thing that made an immediate difference to me this year was building a coherent, simple website with my best work front and center and a contact form on top. Every single opportunity I got came from that form (maybe via twitter or instagram initially, but always sealing the decision after going through the website), so I firmly believe that showcasing your skills and portfolio in a visually arresting and user-friendly way is a big priority. I had some reservations about tackling that task but fortunately I had help from a savvy life partner and we slapped it together via wordpress in less than a day. Twitter/whatever social media is prevalent in your target groups is definitely important to get the right eyes on your shit, yes, but those eyes will then look for a second stop where your work and rates are more clear and concise. Simplicity is key imo, I cannot overstate this. So make a cute, simple portfolio!

3. Your skills and rates will grow and change as you do. Let them. Over the years I built several lasting professional relationships from my obsession over mass effect and kept getting opportunities both from bioware and their partner companies, some small and some a bit bigger. A one-off job earlier this year opened an unexpected door to another much larger commitment, and then the work I did there brought some attention from small businesses looking for commercial commissions. These were all incredibly different projects in terms of scope and budget, and I've been tackling them all on a case-by-case basis and slowly coming into my own irt my needs, rates, and SOW thresholds. It is still a work in progress (and a LOT of literal work as well), and very much a thing I struggle with in publicly marketing, which is why I felt a tad underqualified to answer your question in the first place (obviously I did not let that stop me). But what it means for me now is that I am rapidly developing into whatever my "version" of a functioning freelance artist is, and when the conditions for that guy are met, I need to be able to confidently plant myself and operate from that space despite past precedents. Do not let anyone bully you into downpricing what you yourself perceive as legitimate products of personal growth and development. Speaking of which...

4. The shitty challenge of turning envy into inspiration, and paddling outside your comfort zones in full riot gear. it is hard, but realizing that being a miserable, self-hating artist in my early days got me nothing but more misery back was the first real step I took and what truly blew the hinges off. I was just not pleasant to be around, I would badmouth my work all the time, and it all somehow made sense in my broken mind because the validation I sought was purely external and the way I sought it was through eliciting sympathy via self-victimization (even when I made something objectively nice). It all led fucking nowhere. Except perhaps to my own narcissism that I one day managed to identify and start managing. So I started looking at things that made me seethe with envy and calmly deconstruct and figure out their inner workings instead, do studies, and find nuggets of inspiration or discover new ways to approach rendering or building up specific elements. It was an application of analytical diligence to what I wanted to be a purely emotional, esoteric workflow, but that I deep down knew wasn't. Art is a discipline and a skill, and maybe it isn't a straight line, but you gotta find some line to thread nevertheless. Being self-hating was almost an identity I had to break out of, and despite it still being like, 4-5% there? I realize its cause and effect on me, my work, and those around me, so it is with a conscious choice that I gently set it aside when I work and especially when I learn. It won't always stay quiet, but the effort is the difference. Your doors towards accepting true growth and venturing into uncharted territories, art styles, and networking will really open from there. But there's a huge caveat...

5. Toolsets, accessibility, privilege, and all the good things that enable artistic expression and profitability are not given equal to all. you might do all the mental work I mentioned to be ready to rock and roll and learn and draw your way out of anything, but digital art is a fucking money pit that asks almost too much at times. I don't got a good case study here but identifying and ensuring accessibility to the tools you need to do your best work is, like, super important. The ergonomics can improve as you make money and settle into the job, but the basics have to be made available to you. And some of that might not even be under your direct control. That can be anything from pen tablets to software subscriptions to opportunities in hiring sullied by sexism or what have you. You gotta navigate all that through careful networking and money/time management. I don't do a good job of devoting specific slices of time to work/study, and my primary clutch is iPad software which went from a good deal to a nightmare scenario over the years. So all I can say here is do what I didn't; network, invest in a PC/tablet, and pick a software you'll learn that won't burn a hole in your pocket.

6. Be nice to work with? This one is hard to articulate and has landed my own ass in hot water in my early years because of how socially inept I am, but nothing is more worthwhile than being.. like. a good person to work with. That can be anything like meeting deadlines, or sometimes missing them but eloquently articulating why, being generous in early stages, being communicable and not too wordy in your emails, having a good grasp on abstract artistic concepts and how to describe them in simple terms, having a clear, laid out framework of your working rates in commercial and non-commercial projects and sticking to those guns with grace, understanding when you need to say no and saying it well, the works. Just being nice. Sometimes that might mean going headstrong with something you believe in, or simmering down and sucking up to the big man, all relative and adaptive. Part and parcel of the service provision dance that we all have to do in order to make bank. Know your lines here, obviously, and don't like. work for nazis. or uh.. *shudders* exposure. but be nice and empathetic and communicable and word will travel eventually. Skill may be in abundance these days, but good people are most certainly not, and capitalism has a way of bubbling up scarcity. Grim, but uh, them's the breaks.

I know I'm ultimately telling you to like. Have a body of work, make a portfolio, grow, and network. But that's really how I see it for now. And being nice can be a cherry on top that sets you apart, along with the inherent irreplaceable voice of your artwork. I think I rambled on enough, but if there is something specific you need my help with, even if you want to come off anon and talk in private, please feel free.

[aboveallarescuer]

I know you've gotten anons about the YMBQ prophecy recently but I was wondering in what context could it be obvious for the reader that Daenerys is the YMBQ if Cersei is most likely to die or leave KL once Aegon arrives and not Daenerys. Even if Daenerys takes KL later on wouldn't he technically be the one to take all she holds dear (her power as regent)?

First of all, Anon, I think it’s interesting that you say that Young Griff (rather than Arianne) would take all that Cersei holds dear in this hypothetical scenario (that most people assume will come to pass). asoiaf tumblr fandom loved (loves?) to take for granted that Arianne would be YMBQ (after all, it was/is taken for granted that she would marry Young Griff and become his queen consort) years ago. At the same time, though, I’m not sure if you’re implying that Young Griff might actually be the one to fulfill the YMB(Q) prophecy in this ask. I actually saw this theory before. So I’m going to make counterarguments to this theory first and then address your question about how and when Dany might be revealed as the YMBQ (and if that’s what you were specifically looking for, just skip to the end, though you might be disappointed by the fact that I'm not really providing definitive answers because I have a lot of doubts myself).

In a way, it makes more sense for Young Griff to fulfill the prophecy rather than Arianne. Let’s remember what Cersei wants the most, which is shown in the beginning of her very first chapter:

She dreamt she sat the Iron Throne, high above them all. (AFFC Cersei I)

Unfortunately for Cersei, she can’t ever actually sit the Iron Throne, which is pointed out several times:

Cersei shifted in her seat as he went on, wondering how long she must endure his hectoring. Behind her loomed the Iron Throne, its barbs and blades throwing twisted shadows across the floor. Only the king or his Hand could sit upon the throne itself. Cersei sat by its foot, in a seat of gilded wood piled with crimson cushions. (AFFC Cersei V)

~

Seated on her gold-and-crimson high seat beneath the Iron Throne, Cersei could feel a growing tightness in her neck. (AFFC Cersei VII)

~

Cersei sat beneath the Iron Throne, clad in green silk and golden lace. (AFFC Cersei X)

As the first quote states, only the king or the Hand can sit the Iron Throne, which is what Cersei wants the most, since, to her, it symbolizes almost unlimited power ("high above them all"). Indeed, I would argue that what Cersei holds dear is the chance to reign supreme (“The rule was hers; Cersei did not mean to give it up until Tommen came of age. [...] If Margaery Tyrell thinks to cheat me of my hour in the sun, she had bloody well think again.”), not “her power as regent” (as you put it), which is limited by nature. After all, the king’s wife and mother can’t sit the Iron Throne. This means three things to me:

Queen consorts like Margaery or Arianne (if she actually marries Young Griff, which is far from certain) can’t take all that Cersei holds dear.

Queens claiming power in their own right but who have no claim to the Iron Throne are excluded too. In other words, Asha or QitN!Sansa (another fan theory that’s far from certain and that’s accepted as future canon) can’t take all that Cersei holds dear.

Only a she-king (that is, a queen regnant) with a claim to the Iron Throne can take all that Cersei holds dear - that’s Dany.

But then, we have Young Griff. He is a king with a claim to the Iron Throne, so he could, in theory, take what Cersei holds dear and fulfill the prophecy. However, I find that very unlikely for a number of reasons:

GRRM doesn’t highlight men’s physical appearances or objectify them in the same way that he does with women, as a lot of people have already criticized him for. He makes a point of mentioning women’s accomplishments along with overpraise for their physical appearances (though one might be generous and chalk that up to social commentary about how their society objectifies women instead of giving them their due praise for what they do). He encourages his fans to speculate about who is the YMB(Q) and pit his female characters against each other based on their physical appearances (e.g., people have criticized how Sansa stans often mention the number of times the word “beautiful” appears in Sansa’s chapters to back up their belief that she’s the YMB(Q), but the way GRRM himself wrote the prophecy lends itself to this sort of analysis) because he uses certain tropes uncritically. He portrays fat women negatively in comparison to thin women (see: Cersei (who’s said to be gaining weight throughout AFFC as she becomes more unstable) vs Dany, Lysa vs Cat, Barba Bracken vs Melissa Blackwood, arguably Rhaenyra vs Alicent). He takes an almost voyeuristic pleasure in describing women’s bodies and women having sex with women (see how Dany and Irri’s or Cersei and Taena’s sexual encounters don’t give any depth to Dany’s, Irri’s and Taena’s characters and, as far as I can tell, are mostly written to fetishize them). Consider, for instance, how 13- to 16-year-old Dany is the most sexualized character of the book series, while I’m not even sure if her male counterpart Jon is supposed to be considered attractive or not (on the one hand, he’s attracted women like Ygritte and Val; on the other hand, he’s meant to look a lot like Ned, who’s regarded as plain in appearance, especially in comparison to the hot-blooded Brandon). All of this is to say that I doubt that a man will fulfill a prophecy that remarks upon the person’s physical appearance (“younger and more beautiful”). Considering GRRM’s writing problems, a woman is much more likely to do so.

Young Griff is supposed to represent a lesser version of Dany (note that I’m talking about Young Griff as a fictional character, not as a person). After all, unlike Dany, Young Griff didn’t get to have lived experience of poverty, he didn’t get to have his skills tested, he didn’t get to apply the lessons he learned along the way, he didn’t get to take action and make mistakes and gain valuable experience and wisdom, he didn’t get to choose to stay in Slaver’s Bay solely to help marginalized people who aren’t connected to him by neither blood nor lands (which would emphasize how he doesn’t view his birthright merely as something owed to him, but rather as a means to “protect the ones who can’t protect themselves”). He could have had this sort of character development if GRRM wanted him to, but he has a different role in the narrative: he’s a tertiary character who we’re not meant to know all that much as a person or about how he would fare as king because he serves as a foil to Dany. With all of that in mind, what would be the point of having this minor character, who was introduced in the fifth book of a seven-book series, fulfill this prophecy rather than the one protagonist who the author said was deliberately written as Cersei’s foil multiple times (more on that below)?

Which brings me to a point that @rainhadaenerys made in our upcoming Dany/Cersei meta... Cersei views women with contempt because she thinks that they can only attain political influence with “tears” and with what’s “between [their] legs” (as she tells Sansa). This informs why, for example, she projects the unfounded idea that a widow must have lovers on Margaery or why she herself uses money and sex to keep her men loyal (which ultimately backfires on her). Unfortunately, it’s true that “[Cersei’s] strength relies on her beauty, birth and riches”. Because of her internalized misogyny, Cersei can’t conceive of a woman who might rise to power primarily because of her intelligence and shrewdness… Except that there is a woman who successfully conquered three cities and ruled the third and freed thousands of slaves relying primarily on her actual wit, political savviness and leadership skills rather than on sex, birthright or money… Dany. Dany is the competent, selfless ruler who could overcome many of the patriarchal limitations that Cersei couldn’t (hence why Cersei is a tragic figure). If Young Griff were to be the YMB(Q), he would simply be one of the many men (along with Robert, her brother, her father and the other Hands) who Cersei thinks wronged her and prevented her from staying in power. If Daenerys were to be the YMBQ, she would challenge Cersei’s toxic beliefs about women, which prevented Cersei from even imagining that a she-king might be the one foreshadowed to defeat her or that a woman (that isn’t her, of course) could actually be able to earn her accomplishments (just like she can’t imagine that Jaime might actually betray and kill her). Now, someone might argue that GRRM is not “woke” enough to do this, but I would disagree in this particular case. There are valid critiques to be made about how he wrote his female characters (I’ve made some points myself on the first item), but it’s still true that Dany’s character arc was written with awareness of how her gender affects her experiences. If that hadn’t been the case, AGOT wouldn’t have initially set up several men (Viserys, Rhaego, Drogo) to be claimant to the Iron Throne/SWMTW/the protagonist only to reveal that these roles are actually meant to be fulfilled by Dany, a woman. If that hadn’t been the case, he wouldn’t have had Maester Aemon acknowledge that “no one had ever looked for a girl” when they pondered on who might be AA/PTWP. So I don’t put it past GRRM to make Dany the YMBQ as a way of challenging Cersei’s entire worldview.

Indeed, I actually think that’s likely to be what he’ll write. GRRM has stated multiple times that Dany and Cersei are meant to be compared and contrasted because they were consciously written by him (specially in AFFC/ADWD) as narrative foils:

George regrets that Cersei and Dany will not be contrasted directly. (x)

~

His biggest lament in splitting A Feast for Crows from A Dance with Dragons is the parallels he was drawing between Circe and Daenerys. (x)

~

Cersei and Daenerys are intended as parallel characters --each exploring a different approach to how a woman would rule in a male dominated, medieval-inspired fantasy world. (x)

~

While discussing how he writes his female characters, he also mentioned that splitting the books as he did this time meant we didn't get the parallel between how Danaerys and Cersei both approach the task of leadership, which is a bit of a shame. (x)

~

And that one of the things he regrets losing from the POV split is that he was doing point and counterpoint with the Dany and Cersei scenes--showing how each was ruling in their turn. (x)

I think Young Griff as the YMB(Q) is very, very unlikely. If it’s not Dany, then I think Brienne (who at least is a viewpoint character that we know intimately) as the YMBQ (though I doubt it because she can only take Jaime away from Cersei and, as we saw in AFFC, Cersei was willing to separate herself from Jaime once she realized that he would question and disagree with her decisions and, in her mind, threaten her influence and power, i.e., what she wants the most) or even Cersei herself (the basis of this theory is that a younger Cersei caused her own downfall by making the choices she made. It’s not impossible considering that Cersei’s unreliable viewpoint prevents her from ever taking responsibility for her actions. Still, I think it’s unlikely because she’s been positioned as a passive participant in these prophecies - someone/some people kills her children, some person takes away everything she holds dear, some person murders her. Just like there’s a valonqar to kill Cersei, I think there’ll be a YMBQ to defeat her) are more plausible candidates. However, as I said in previous answers, Dany and Cersei have lots of clearly intended parallels and anti parallels (hence why GRRM mentioned them at least five times publicly) that people don’t often appreciate (but that I don’t want to mention here because I’m saving them for edits and that long meta). I find it hard to believe that GRRM would lay all this groundwork to contrast these two queens only to reveal that a minor character is the actual YMB(Q).

Now, the question about “in what context could it be obvious for the reader that Daenerys is the YMBQ” is difficult because, IMO, I don’t feel like there’s enough information to give you a reliable answer. First, let’s recap the most common theories, which, while I don’t think should be accepted as canon just yet, are popular for logical reasons. Here’s what GRRM said about the future events in the initial outline and interviews:

While the lion of Lannister and the direwolf of Stark snarl and scrap, however, a second and greater threat takes shape across the narrow sea, where the Dothraki horselords mass their barbarian hordes for a great invasion of the Seven Kingdoms, led by the fierce and beautiful Daenerys Stormborn, the last of the Targaryen dragonlords. The Dothraki invasion will be the central story of my second volume, A Dance with Dragons. (x)

~

GRRM: Yes, three more volumes remain. The series could almost be considered as two linked trilogies, although I tend to think of it more as one long story. The next book, A Dance With Dragons, will focus on the return of Daenerys Targaryen to Westeros, and the conflicts that creates. After that comes The Winds of Winter. I have been calling the final volume A Time For Wolves, but I am not happy with that title and will probably change it if I can come up with one that I like better. (x)

~

He said that in his original plan (when he wanted to write a trilogy) the Red Wedding would take place in book one, and Dany’s landing in Westeros in book two. Now he says that Dany’s arrival in Westeros will take place in book 5, A Dance with Dragons. (x)

~

From there he started to plan a trilogy, since there were 3 main conflicts (Starks/Lannisters; Dany; and the Others) it felt it would neatly fit into a trilogy (ah!), but like Tolkien said, the tale grew in the telling. (x)

~

“Well, Tyrion and Dany will intersect, in a way, but for much of the book they’re still apart,” he says. “They both have quite large roles to play here. Tyrion has decided that he actually would like to live, for one thing, which he wasn’t entirely sure of during the last book, and he’s now working toward that end—if he can survive the battle that’s breaking out all around him. And Dany has embraced her heritage as a Targaryen and embraced the Targaryen words. So they’re both coming home.” (x)

GRRM’s words seem to indicate that Dany will go to Dragonstone ("they're both coming home") and then King’s Landing in her campaign to take back the Seven Kingdoms before she goes to the Wall to fight against the Others.

And it is quite possible that she will clash with Young Griff. For one:

Hi, short question. Will we find out more about the Dance of the Dragons in future books?

The first dance or the second?

The second will be the subject of a book. The first will be mentioned from time to time, I'm sure. (x)

For two:

"It is dragons."

"Dragons?" said her mother. "Teora, don't be mad."

"I'm not. They're coming."

"How could you possibly know that?" her sister asked, with a note of scorn in her voice. "One of your little dreams?"

Teora gave a tiny nod, chin trembling. "They were dancing. In my dream. And everywhere the dragons danced the people died." (TWOW Arianne I)

For three:

Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire ... mother of dragons, slayer of lies … (ACOK Daenerys IV)

Now, here are my observations/questions/doubts:

The “cloth dragon” receiving a round of cheers from the crowd seems to indicate that a) Tommen will indeed fall from power when Young Griff (who’s already in Westeros almost ready to attack) invades King’s Landing and that b) Young Griff will inspire love from the population.

The more obvious possibility is that the second dance of dragons refers to a Dany versus Young Griff confrontation, especially since she’s prophesied to slay the lie that he represents (that he’s not Rhaegar Targaryen's son, but actually Illyrio’s son and a Blackfyre). However, since Victarion is currently in Meereen with a dragonbinder, it’s very likely that Dany will lose control of one of her dragons to a Greyjoy (either Victarion or Euron Greyjoy himself) and then will arrive in Westeros with only two of her three dragons. Or maybe Euron will use one of the dragons to attack Young Griff and that will be the second dance (though I find that unlikely since, again, Dany is prophesied to slay Young Griff’s lie). Or the second dance could actually refer to Dany versus Euron.

There are alternative speculations to consider. Right now, the consensus in the Dany fandom seems to be that there’s already too much in Dany’s plate for her (uniting all the khalasars and being hailed as the SWMTW; going back to Meereen; meeting Tyrion, Jorah, Moqorro and other characters; maybe going to Yunkai; going to Volantis; etc) to go to King’s Landing, which led to people assuming that only Cersei and JonCon will be involved in the city’s burning. It’s even theorized that Dany might actually skip King’s Landing and go to the Wall instead. These theories make a lot of sense and aren’t implausible, but it’s hard to reconcile them with GRRM’s initial intention with Dany (though it’s also been argued that he may have given part of her initial role to Young Griff). Additionally, I don’t think timeline issues are necessarily a guarantee of what GRRM will do with Dany. He made Tyrion travel much faster than reasonable back in AGOT to have him meet Catelyn in the inn at the crossroads and to be taken captive by her. So I wouldn't put it past GRRM to do something similar with Dany by having her arrive earlier in King’s Landing than she reasonably would just because he wants it to happen. And, as much as I don’t want it to happen and even though I criticized the theory before, I don’t think it’s impossible (though it’s not guaranteed either) for Dany to be accidentally involved in the burning of King’s Landing (though there is a recent counter-theory to that as well).

Re: Cersei, a lot of people tend to assume that she’s going to die when Young Griff takes King’s Landing, but I am not really sure. I do think that her parallels with Aerys II will pay off and reflect her ending. But that doesn’t prevent Cersei from surviving Young Griff’s invasion and meeting Dany later. Cersei could escape to Casterly Rock and they could meet there. Or Cersei could later attempt to retake the capital again in another impractical plan of hers, which then leads to King’s Landing burning. I don’t know.

Does Dany have to meet everyone to fulfill these prophecies? I’m not sure. Does Dany necessarily need to meet Young Griff and Stannis to slay their lies? Does she necessarily need to meet Cersei so that the readership finds out that she’s the YMBQ? Will there even be an actual moment that makes it “obvious for the reader that Daenerys is the YMBQ”? I don’t know, Anon. It may end up being up for people’s interpretation. Dany might end up burning the Iron Throne, if the theory about her accidentally burning King’s Landing actually happens. Dany might willingly melt the Iron Throne and install a new form of government that gives the smallfolk more political influence. Both of these possibilities could symbolize the end of Cersei’s desire for absolute power, even if Cersei and Dany don’t actually meet. I’m not even sure that there will be a moment that outright reveals that Dany is AA/PTWP/SWMTW (even though, IMO, the foreshadowing is way too overwhelming for it not to be her).

Speculating about Dany being the YMBQ is fun for me because it requires delving into her characterization, her parallels with Cersei and canon material in general. On the other hand, speculating about how this would actually happen is, IMO, less interesting (though I still enjoy reading what other people have to say) because it’s hard to accurately predict future plot points with the current information that we have (and I resent how fandom already accepts so many theories as unpublished canon). Dany has too many places to be and too many things to do and it’s not certain that she’ll be in King’s Landing when it burns (though I tend to think she will for the aforementioned reasons), the second dance of dragons can refer to different confrontations, it’s not certain that Dany needs to meet Cersei (or Young Griff or Stannis) to fulfill all these prophecies and it’s not certain that Dany is going to be explicitly revealed as the person who fulfills all these prophecies. We still have two books worth of plot development, so I really don’t think it’s possible to predict how the actual events will unfold. Sorry about not being able to give more definitive answers... I actually ended up making more questions. But that's kind of the point for now.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

Ok, you don't have to answer all of these because there were too many good ones and I still ended up with 6 after trying to shave it down lmao:

3, 12, 18, 34 (there is a right answer btw lmao), 38, 40? :O

(weird writer questions - send some in if u want!)

now you've made it a challenge and i HAVE to answer all of them!!! I am gonna put it under a read more, tho, bc it's gonna be kinda long sdlkfs

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

My writing ritual is "oh fuck that's a Good Idea, I need to write it down!" and then instead of writing it down, I do the entire thing in one sitting. And if I don't get to it in one sitting, the chances of me finishing it are maybe 30% out of a hundred. I am getting better at breaks tho, so maybe my ritual still has a chance to change and actually work more than five percent of the time sdfsdf

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

Hmm! First one would probably just like... "I wish to have the patience and understanding to do all the research I need to do to make this good". Bc too often I shy away from things bc I don't exactly know what's happening and I don't wanna get it wrong. So I'd like to be able to learn better, please!

Second one would probably be "I wish to be able to write consistently" bc Wowza nothing kills the man (me) more than writer's block sldfsdf

Third, and final, I wish for Support. I crave validation consistently. Nothing makes me want to write more than validation /hj (and getting ideas when I should be sleeping sldfksd).

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

From Tedious Familiarity “Your name is Barry Bluejeans,” the coin said. “But unless you find ### somehow, your name is Sildar Hallwinter. Stupid name, I know. You probably get the refs, though, right? Sildar, like Silly’s Rockets? I think mom hated that awful toy as much as I did, we could never get it to shut up. And Hallwinter, ugh. You remember Mr. Hallwinter, right? Sorry, Doctor Hallwinter. Hate that guy, hate his class, hate his teaching. But lucky for you, Barry, hate is exactly what you’re gonna need for this mission. So until we’ve got all our shit sorted out, we’re gonna be Sildar Hallwinter.

This whole fic, but this paragraph especially, was based off an idea I had in like,,, December? That I never fully got to. The original work went a lil further into that name choice and also just built up a lot of resentment, not only towards the persona of "Sildar Hallwinter" but for what Barry's doing in the first place. Like he doesn't wanna spend all his time looking for Lup. But he's gotta and he's never gonna give up. Discord screenshots of those two bits are below:

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

I mean, I use it when I can? Like, if I'm listing things, the only reason I wouldn't put the comma is if things were obviously connected, like two people arriving together. So if Lup and Taako showed up as a pair, I'd put "Magnus, Merle, Lup and Taako". But if they showed up separately, or if they weren't meant to be connected in that scene I'd put "Magnus Merle, Lup, and Taako". Idk if that makes any sense sldfsdf

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

I mean, my whole process is wild lsdfsdf. As stated above, I usually try to finish everything in one sitting. Like, I will set at my desk for hours and crank out a 6k fic. I did once stay up for 24(ish) hours just to finish a 13k fic, post it without ANY editing, and then pass the fuck out. I barely ate or drank anything, which wasn't great sdlfsdf

Also just the fact that I can't write if I'm listening to something? Even just rain or anything besides my Room Noises, I will get too overwhelmed. I also tend to write too fast for my hands to keep up with, and end up skipping half a sentence and not noticing until I go back (if I go back at all).

Also also, I don't edit that much?? Or rewrite? With fanfiction at least. I feel like I should, because everyone else seems to, but if I'm writing a fic, I usually say what I want to say and there's maybe some rare moments where I'll rewrite a scene. Maybe I'll add/take away some bits but??? Idk! I don't edit or revise that much!

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

Struggled to find a poem small enough to not make this ask longer than it already is, but here's one I wrote earlier in spring:

the sun is a little bit brighter today than it was before i think just the idea of spring is enough to open my curtains every day we're deep into it now, the sun setting later with each passing night i wanna make flower crowns with the weeds growing back up in my garden i wanna plunk up a wishing flower and let it tear away before i've had the chance to think of a wish i think if i got the time, if i prepared ahead, i'd just ask for spring to last a little bit longer this year i was hibernating before, but now im awake and the sun feels so nice on my face

[realcube]

rq; could you possibly write a one shot about the reader having AD(H)D and has a really hard time focusing on core academics (math, science, english, history) because they feel scared about stimming and/or fidgeting in front of people and so they ask tamaki for help?

tw; very mild angst, fluff, stimming, i use the word ‘embrassing’ too much, swearing

words; 2.7k

it only took a moment of skimming over your latest progress report for you to understand the situation.

you continued to thrive in practical subjects like physical education, graphic design and manufacturing — the three main reasons you managed to secure your spot in the support course — but your core subjects seemed to be lacking.

for the last two years, you managed to score flying colours in all your subjects. but now, it was starting to appear as though your golden era was coming to a close. what was once a report with only scores greater than 90%, was now a range of totals anywhere from 90 to 50%.

this meant you were still passing all of your classes but these grades were only indications of how you were doing now; you knew that if you continued to struggle in all of your core courses, you might not finish your third year of UA highschool.

you simply wouldn't allow for your grades to decline further, so like any good student would, you made a list of ways you could improve.

number one was, of course, study more. however, you were almost certain that discipline and diligence aren't the causes of the issue.

number two was to ask for help from your teacher and although this was a completely valid option, you still felt like the problem ran deeper than your ability to comprehend the material. after all, you had made it this far without having to do so.

before you could even ponder number three, your pen ran out of ink. with a huff, you reach out to grab a new one from your pencil case, until you noticed that in the spot where your pencil case usually sits on your desk, there was nothing.

it was as though the void had caused all your memories of yesterday to come crashing down on you in an instant; it was almost nauseating. yet it, ironically, provided some clarity as to the location of your stationary.

two days ago, after school, you paid a visit to tamaki's house to deliver the gear he had commissioned. however, what was initially meant to be a casual interaction, somehow turned into a game of pictionary (with mirio and nejire there too, of course), for which you needed to bring your pencil case out of your bag. amidst your awkward goodbyes, you must've forgotten to put it back into your bag, hence your pencil case is probably lying dejected on tamaki's coffee table.

this left you with no choice but to throw on your jacket and begin your journey to tamaki's house. fortunately, he only lived a bus ride away from your home, yet you still mentally rebuked yourself for the whole length of aforementioned bus ride due to the fact that every time you would interact with tamaki, it felt like you were digging a deeper grave for yourself.

partially because you always found yourself oversharing with him — not that it was a one-sided ordeal — and you couldn't begin to explain why; he kinda just had a comforting aura about him. albeit you haven’t said anything embarrassing yet but the possibility of that happening was way too large. plus taking into consideration your complicated feelings for each other, leaving your pencil case at his house was a disaster waiting to occur.

or perhaps you were overthinking it. either way, you were now standing in front of his door with your school uniform and backpack on during a saturday afternoon because you had no idea what else to wear.

after ringing the doorbell, you stood as a patient statue in the cold until tamaki reluctantly opened the door and only poked his head out. “hello?”

emphasis on ‘only’, because he was truly committed to not allowing you to see him in his casual-wear, for some reason. a part of him reasoned that there was no way you would expect him to be wearing his school uniform on a saturday, but the majority of his brain was screaming about how he had to hide his clothes from you at all costs. especially since he was wearing socks, comfy trackpants and — most shamefully — a sweater with a small octopus design on it. and what would you think of him if you saw that his choice in loungewear was so childish?! it would be utterly humiliating.

completely unaware that tamaki was having a crisis behind the door, you pulled your most authentic smile and said the line you had been rehearing on the bus, “hi, tamaki. sorry for coming unannounced, but i think i left my pencil case on your coffee table when we were playing pictionary with mirio and nejire.”

“oh.” tamaki was almost too panicked to process what you just said but once he did, he immediately recalled the moment he noticed that you had left behind your pencil case. at the time, he planned on calling you to ask if he could drop it off at your house, but his nerves got the better of him and he decided to keep procrastinating the call until he completely forgot.

though, if he remembered correctly, the pencil case should be lying on his desk after he moved it there in hopes that the convenient location would remind him to return it; which it evidently did not.

“yeah. uh, i’ve got it. i’ll just go get it.” his face tingled with warmth slightly as he retracted it from the doorway, resulting in him finally realising how cold it is outside. in fact, since the eaves of his house shielded you for the climate, he didn’t even notice that it was snowing!

the polite bone in him got to work before the rest of him could react, as he blurted out, “come in, make yourself at home.”

fuck! i mean, it’s not that he doesn’t want you in his house — quite the opposite actually — but rather now he had to dart off to his bedroom before you could catch a glimpse of his sweater. but at least now this gave him an opportunity to change into something less embarrassing.

closing the door behind you, you were now left alone in tamaki’s living room. your eyes followed his figure as he dashed towards his bedroom, “odd.” you murmured to yourself. you weren’t exactly tamaki’s BFF but you were close enough to him that you could tell when he was acting weird.

but you didn’t think to much of it. actually, you were slightly grateful for this weird spike in tamaki’s behaviour because if he doesn’t want you around, that just means you are less likely to overshare and catch feelings, which means better outcomes in the long run, right?

after changing into a plain blue sweater and collecting your pencil case, tamaki strolled into the living room and handed it to you with a weak smile, “here you go.” he almost whispered, patiently waiting for your response so he could mentally prepare himself for goodbyes or another hour (or so) of conversation.

“thank you!” you basically squealed, pulling off your bag to stuff your pencil case back inside. while adjusting the straps on your shoulders, you took a moment to appreciate tamaki’s familiar attire, “oh, i love your sweater; i have a similar one with a cute little octopus on it.”

tamaki concluded that neither of you would be saying goodbye for a long while.

“thank you.” he responded with a soft smile, folding his arms over his chest as he made his way towards the kitchen, “um, so how are you?” he inquired, assuming that it was a pretty harmless question that would simply help get the conversation off the ground while he prepared tea.

“i’m good. but i don’t think i can say the same for my progress report.” you said with an awkward chuckle, standing aside as you watched tamaki put the kettle on. “and how are y--”

“what do you mean?” tamaki asked, disregarding the fact that he didn’t answer the question himself. although, simply put, this was because he found that conversation came more naturally to him when he was with you; or perhaps that is a slight overstatement. he tended to be more curious and inquisitive when talking to you and it wasn’t hard to tell.

until now you and mirio simply brushed it off as tamaki’s interest towards the support course, since you were the one who manufactured most of his gear. yet nejire always teased him as she believed that tamaki’s interest was caused by a different sort of passion.

nevertheless, regardless of tamaki’s motives, you still found yourself consistently answering his questions, “eh, well, i’ve just not been performing as well as i hoped.” you replied plainly with a shrug.

“is that all?”

no matter how many questions he asked, each one still managed to catch you off-guard. “um,” your throat ran dry, which might’ve been a sign from a deity to stop talking, but your swallowing was your way of proving that you did not care. although you will probably regret it later, talking with tamaki always relieved you.

“well,” you started, the lump in your throat growing by the second, “i guess i have a bit of trouble focussing in some classes too. but i mean, maybe it is because i drink too much caffeine? i’m not even sure to be honest.” that was lie, you were  90% sure of what the problem was, but you wanted to hear tamaki’s response before you proceeded, to determine whether he’d be open-minded about it.

“there is no such thing as too much caffeine.” he joked, handing you a cup of tea while he sipped on his own. “so it’s probably something else.”

he’s too good. it’s as if he knew you were withholding information.

“well,” you began once more, trying your best to appear clueless, “i guess moving helps me focus, but no once else in the class does it so wouldn’t it be embarrassing if i was the only one?”

“i don’t think it would be embarrassing at all.” he spoke softly, leading you back into the living room and offer you a seat on the couch beside him, which you graciously accepted. “but if you think it is, then i have something to help.”

before you could say anything, tamaki got up and headed towards his bedroom; leaving you to drink his heavenly tea while he searched. though, only a few minutes passed before you felt his arms slither over your shoulders to hook two clips together by your neck.

“there.” he said with a proud smile, “this is one of my cloaks that i use in my hero costume. you can tie it together so it covers the whole front half of your body.”

observing your reflection in the blackened TV, you smiled upon seeing for your own eyes that everything he said was true. it was like wearing a cape that goes around your whole body, and it had a nice hood! “wow, this is so adorable!” you cheered, then paused, “but how is it going to help me focus?”

“well, you can do whatever you want underneath it and no one will notice.”

ignoring the shady implications of that sentence, you moved your hand around underneath the cloak and he was right! no one would see you fidgeting underneath the cloak, and hopefully the professor’s voice would cover any sounds you made. plus, it looked pretty badass.

“this might work! are cloaks included in dress-code?” you joked, but you weren’t laughing for long as you turned to look at tamaki who was wearing an upset expression with his head hung low, “no.”

“oh.” you sighed, unclipping the cloak and handing it back to tamaki with a slight smile, “it’s fine. thank you for your help, and the tea. it was delicious, but i’ll probably have to start cutting back on the caffeine.” you gave it a chef’s kiss yet he didn’t even chuckle like he usually does. it was almost scary how your true emotions reflected onto him, as it seemed like the whole atmosphere had changed.

“(y/n).” tamaki uttered with a much more serious tone; eyes filled with determination yet trained onto the cloak in his hands. “you shouldn’t be embarrassed-- or at least, I, um, don’t think you should be.”

your eyes widened at how sternly he said the first part; granted, he became flustered when it came to the second part, but it really showed you how firmly he stood by what he was saying. you nodded for him to continue as he looked like he still had a lot on his mind.

“it’s unfair that you have trouble focussing because of what other people think. so my two cents is that you should do whatever you need to do, and, um, not care about other people... well, i mean, you should care about them, but just not what they think about you. because like, you can’t really control that--”

he found himself having to abruptly shut his mouth to stop himself from prattling on any further. especially since most of what he was saying was probably none sense that he mistook for inspirational, or at least that is what he gathered from the shocked look you wore; it was ironic how humiliated he was.

“that’s nice to hear.” you hummed, a kind smile gracing your features in place of the previous stunned expression, “though it’s hard to believe coming from someone as cool as you, tamaki.”

“cool?”

“yeah.” you chuckled, rolling your eyes at his baffled look which he must have been faking. surely he knows how highly thought of and respected he is throughout the whole school. he is in the big three, for fucks’ sake! “there is probably a better word to describe it, but you are one of the most badass people i know.”

“badass?” it was as if all he was capable of doing was repeating these words to you with an innocent yet confused gaze.

“yes!” you enthused, “so, is there anything you even have to be embarrassed about?”

“i do!” he almost whined, and without thinking, he stormed to his bedroom only to grab the sweater he cast aside earlier to show it to you, “look! an octopus sweater, isn’t this embarrassing?”

you deadpanned, unsure as to whether he was joking or not. “stimming is very different from a octopus sweater but go on.” however after a few moments of actually analysing the design on the article of clothing, you exclaimed, “oi, i have that exact same sweater! how is a cute little octopus embarrassing? plus, it would be extra cute on you because you have tentacles.”

in a moment of frustration and wanting to prove a point, he threw the sweater aside and began to sheepishly grab at the ends of his sleeves, “well, you know what’s even more embarrassing? having a crush on someone for three whole years and not having the balls to ask them out! and on top of that, being to nervous to return my crush’s stuff after you left it at my house.”

you weren’t sure if he meant to switch out ‘my crush’ with ‘you’ on purpose or if he was just confused. either way, you found yourself leaning in to wrap the poor boy in an overdue embrace, smiling against his chest as he hugged back. “that was..” you faltered, allowing tamaki to interject with “mortifying” but you were quick to correct him, “i think that was a very unique way to confess, and i'm just glad you did.”

your chuckle that followed was left to echo around the room as tamaki stood still and silent, simply enjoying the comfort in your arms as feeling the pleasure of time escape him. until eventually he whispered close to your ear, “so since i know more about embarrassment than you thought, will you take my advice now?”

you snickered, gently tracing shapes onto his back, “i was going to take your advice either way because if i don’t get good grades and remain in the support course, how will i graduate with you?”

“good point.” he hummed, not-so silently enjoying the relaxing sensations near his spine, “but we are not wearing matching octopus hats.”

how did manage to shoot down your idea before you even proposed it?