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mysterystarz · 6 months

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kiss me maybe:

summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)

genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours

warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread

a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented

It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical.

Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling.

To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish.

Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories.

And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.

Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography.

Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!)

“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression.

Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury.

“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”

“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.”

You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment.

Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction.

For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works.

“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place.

“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”

“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.”

“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”

“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision.

There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer.

“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you.

“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle.

He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm.

“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.”

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”

“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke.

“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.”

You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.”

The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze.

However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.

Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down.

Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat.

The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place.

“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.”

“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?”

“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door.

The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?”

“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.”

The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation.

“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually.

“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!”

With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name.

Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing.

A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.

Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice.

“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits.

Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door.

“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.

“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you.

The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills.

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big.

“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere.

“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad.

“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.”

“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed.

“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.”

“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.”

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”

“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”

You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you.

You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in.

“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!”

You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too.

The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks.

When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime.

“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?”

“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?”

“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.”

For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake.

Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash.

In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on.

“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.”

“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.”

Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable.

A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside.

Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake.

This sucked ass.

You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along.

Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering, you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when.

The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake.

You could almost call it picturesque.

You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed.

The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you.

They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk.

“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte.

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did. “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.”

“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.”

“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.”

Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again.

His presence had a way of putting you at ease.

The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.

The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you.

High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much.

You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings.

What could be more human than that?

Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent.

“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.”

What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?

“What did they do to you?”

“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations.

Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better.

You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space.

Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness.

When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours.

Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out.

A grand gym and an even grander boy.

You just avoided him after that.

“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit.

To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.

“Yeah, water under the bridge.”

“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”

“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation.

“Well-“

“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”

“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.”

His eyes lit up. “You mean it?”

You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you.

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards.

“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.”

You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping.

“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”

Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion.

Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?”

“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”

“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.”

“We always love the extra coverage.”

“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”

“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was.

“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.”

“Not true.” He huffed.

“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.”

People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager.

Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with.

“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.”

Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.”

He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?”

Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.”

“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”

“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.”

As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.

Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.

You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too.

As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean.

Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends.

You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky.

How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset.

“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings.

And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition.

“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it.

“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.”

“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit.

“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?”

“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.”

“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open.

You weren’t sure what to say.

A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.

“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret.

“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.

For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine.

You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.

Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity.

Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru.

Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face.

“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.”

You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression.

“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.”

Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees.

You sat down, gesturing for him to join you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.”

“It’s been here…?”

Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.”

You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?”

“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.”

“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.”

“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.”

“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.”

“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.”

“Iwaizumi says otherwise.”

“Mean. But seriously, why?”

You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless.

“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him.

Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin.

“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.”

“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over.

“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.”

You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually.

“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to.

“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.”

“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.”

With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face.

The way he looked at you now was like worship.

“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think.

“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?”

Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours.

Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips.

Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt.

You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you.

The way he held you was reverent.

When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much.

You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.

Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots.

Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up.

He didn’t kiss and tell after all.

“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.”

“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could.

“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.”

“Am I not allowed to have good days?”

“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?”

“With my sets, yes.”

“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.”

Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking.

Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight.

It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him.

Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could.

The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through.

The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride.

“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning.

“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?”

You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.”

Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life.

The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).

The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.

The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness.

The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness.

“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!”

“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.”

Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you.

Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through.

You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.”

Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?”

Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.”

”That is a great idea,” you chimed in.

“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully).

”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.”

The team went silent. “You have a what?!”

The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously.

“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.”

You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”

You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together.

“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.”

“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.”

“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.”

Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?”

You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her.

Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty.

She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur.

“When?”

“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you.

“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly.

“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.”

“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing.

“Shush.”

The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house.

She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.”

You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did.

“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.”

“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold.

“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.”

“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?”

“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.”

He was planning on not headlining the booth?

Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest.

Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like.

“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out.

“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.”

Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.

When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing.

That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag.

“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever).

You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth.

“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.”

“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside.

“Wow. How did you know about the name?”

“I have my sources,” you winked.

Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.”

“So you do know.”

“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.”

You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you.

“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.”

“We don’t have to right now.”

“Thanks Tooru.”

“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.”

You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?”

Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.”

You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes.

“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance.

“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.”

You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.”

“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“

“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.”

You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.”

You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.”

Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty.

Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.

When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively.

He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response.

”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.”

Correction: something was horrifically wrong.

“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.

“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.”

Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to.

However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment.

“Were you guys dating?”

“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”

“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?”

You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet.

“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.”

At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.”

“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.”

The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant.

Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus.

You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled.

Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame.

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been.

“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.”

“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?”

“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.”

“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?”

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.”

You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”

“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room.

“Je suis fâché.”

“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.”

“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?”

“Je ne veux pas continuer.”

“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again.

He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now.

“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move.

He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air.

Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth.

“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?”

Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.”

“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.”

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.”

He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?”

Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you.

He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you.

When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours.

Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this.

“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”

You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid.

Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall.

Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point.

Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him).

“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.”

“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up.

“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.”

“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react.

You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it.

“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.”

You nodded.

“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance. I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.”

“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?”

You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad.

“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?”

Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling.

“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.”

You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile.

You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?”

“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today.

Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign.

The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually.

He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths.

“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop.

“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!”

Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!”

He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands.

He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations.

The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.

To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit).

“This is pretty amazing, huh?”

Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.”

“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?”

Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound

that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.”

Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.”

The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?”

“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure.

“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”

“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.”

Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool.

Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week.

Maybe today would be okay after all.

You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you.

Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself.

Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.

Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa?

You weren’t sure.

The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass.

Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit.

“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.”

“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”

Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money.

He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”

You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.”

Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.”

You snickered. “Not a chance.”

Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.

“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.”

“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row.

The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later.

Soon enough, you were at the front of the line.

“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?”

“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.”

You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”

Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in.

For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands.

The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene.

You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today.

You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range.

This was intriguing.

“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding.

“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!”

“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.”

In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye.

“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.

“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.”

“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand.

“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable.

Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line.

“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line.

“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered.

“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?”

“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.”

The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra.

“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.”

“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand.

“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple.

“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress.

“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said.

“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.”

Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins.

He really had meant everything. You needed to see him.

When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss.

You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you.

You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them.

You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was.

Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands.

“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession.

It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections.

“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe.

“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

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angel-princess-anna · 7 days

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Tributes to Maggie from the Downton Cast and Crew (Part 2):

Part 1

Hugh Bonneville (in addition to his previous comment):

Elizabeth McGovern:

Joanne Froggatt: "Today we lost a true legend. It’s hard to find the words to pay tribute to the iconic Dame Maggie Smith. I shared a screen with her on very few occasions but was fortunate enough to be in her company on many. She truly was a trailblazer, with the sharpest wit, the greatest talent, the naughtiest sense of humour, she was a force to be reckoned with. She had a charisma that you felt would live for ever (in many ways it will) and underneath all of that a huge heart. Thank you Maggie, for always being supportive and kind to me, for putting many a smile on my face with that sharp wit that no one could match, and for showing the rest of us just how it’s done.

Rest in peace Dame Maggie, my thoughts are with your beautiful family. 🖤"

Lily James:

Tom Cullen: "I remember a very specific part of the conversation Maggie and I were having when this photo was taken. Maggie had been doing a big and challenging scene where she is reunited with her old flame played by Rade Serbedzija. I was stood at the back, out of frame and able to observe these incredible actors at their work. But for whatever reason Maggie felt like she wasn’t getting the scene right. Maggie took the smallest moment, came back and next take, simply, effortlessly, delivered a masterclass. She was extraordinary. The director called “cut” and we moved on. I was spellbound. During our conversation at the window, I asked Maggie what she did in order for her to so swiftly and precisely produce such an elevated performance. I remember her looking me in the eye and saying “Oh darling! I was just holding in a fart!”. I remember us both bursting out laughing. I really wished that she had been just holding in a fart but of course that wasn’t the real truth, the real truth was that she worked tirelessly her entire career to make that scene look easy.

I only worked with her for a short while, but I feel so blessed to have had that experience. She was tough, demanded the best but making Maggie laugh felt like winning the lottery.

My heart goes out to her family, friends, her Downton family and all those she touched with her sharp, agile and acerbic brilliance.

We lost an absolute giant today 💔"

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Tom Cullen (@tom_cullen)

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Lesley Nicol: "It's a very close group of people so we're all devastated to think she's not around any more.' [...] "I'd never worked with someone of that calibre, and I thought, I don't know what I'll say to her, it will be really tricky, God she'll probably be really grand. She was not looking for anyone to be scared of her, or in awe of her, she just wanted to be in the gang [...] she was in with the crowd, and just very happy to be part of it all."

Jeremy Swift: "An honour to serve you Maggie."

Lady Carnarvon: "I never saw her on set with a little script, she knew it before she got here [to Highclere]. She worked so hard, to get up at silly o' clock... and to wear corsets for hours on end." [Highclere Castle's post]

Harriet Walter: "She was a true comedian, but also I've seen her playing some incredibly heartfelt, deep, sad roles, which is the huge range of an actress like her. If she was merely funny or merely tragic, she wouldn't quite have made that sort of impression."

Anna Mary Scott Robbins: "I C O N 🤍 Oh Maggie you will be missed 💔"

(special thanks to @lovelikewildness for helping to compile)

#downton abbey #maggie smith #violet #hugh bonneville #elizabeth mcgovern #joanne froggatt #lily james #tom cullen #lesley nicol #jeremy swift #harriet walter

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obizenyukii · 3 months

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top 10 obizenyuki moments (+all of the honorable mentions that i almost picked bc these three are too much .) DISCLAIMER: these are my opinions and also i talk a lot. <3

under the cut bc this is so long oh my god

number 10

THIS PANEL OF THEM BEING SO AT PEACE RESTING BY EACH OTHER'S SIDE. OBI DEEP IN CONTEMPLATION AS HE WATCHES OVER SHIRAYUKI AND ZEN. THEM SLEEPING SO SOUNDLY BECAUSE THEY CAN LET DOWN THEIR GUARD AROUND HIM. I'M FINE.

every time i see this panel i just feel so happy. they belong together.

number 9

needless to say you'll miss the young miss, but you'll be lonely without me too, i bet. this entire conversation . obi saying this as a light joke but also because he knows how much they both mean to zen. obi searching, in a way, for a reassurance that he /is/ needed and wanted as well, since it's so obvious that shirayuki would be. zen's response. this is a moment that shirayuki isn't physically in so i bumped it down a few places, but it's still so meaningful for the ot3.

number 8

obi longing for zen and telling his bestie (zen's gf, who he's known for also occasionally longing for) about it casually under the stars (and saying he'll say that to zen under the stars) . i know what you are .

this moment is absolutely iconic and one of my personal favorites <3

number 7

ot3 date <3333 the entire next chapter is just a bunch of cute moments of them (honestly could have had like 300 pics on this post if there wasn't a limit). them spending time together, goofing off, having fun and enjoying each other's company. give me 10 more of these dates please.

number 6

whenever i reach out my hand, you would grasp it?

the most iconic trio of all time you will not change my mind. this moment being an unsaid promise between the three of them to always come back to each other . lay me to rest

number 5

THE FACT THAT YOU'RE NOT DASHING OVER TO HER RIGHT NOW IS ALL THE ANSWER I NEED. THE TRUST. GOD. SHE CAN HANDLE HIM. I'M ON THE GROUND.

this moment is not as talked about (at least i haven't seen much of it discussed) but it's SO important to me. so much is being said without needing to spell it out. obi and zen keeping watch from afar, content in each other's company but also making sure shirayuki is in their sight. this is so romantic to do under the stars . they make me unwell. i need a vacation

number 4

obi and shirayuki always keeping zen in their hearts no matter what, despite him wishing not to weigh on them. this also touching on zen telling obi he wishes the title he gave him won't be a burden to him. the bond they have is highlighted so beautifully here. it's pure love <3 i'm sick to my stomach. /j

(& the bonus of obi and shirayuki seeing zen off together and looking at his retreating figure fondly. this is so romantic . i'm crazy .)

number 3

the iconic whenever i'm with you two it's always like this ;^;; <3 obi's love towards these two started to take root here. you don't understand because it's love dude . you don't understand because you were never attached to someone like this. you never had a home to come back to, never had the acceptance and understanding you have in them. dumbass. (said fondly)

it's okay, he learns it later <3

number 2

zen, furiously questioning obi and shirayuki on their health, making sure they're fine, and finally pulling them into a hug. his relief to have them safe and healthy in his arms. them realizing how worried he was . this is probably the most iconic obznyk moment and is a contender for n1 for sure, it was tough choosing between the n1&n2 moments ;; . god this moment. zen's "that's the most important thing" . don't talk to me i love them

number 1

the iconic line that is also my ship tag, if it's for you and mistress, i'm willing to go anywhere </3 this moment was what solidified the ship for me when i was only an anime only (shudders) slowly getting into the fandom. the anime was enough but this entire chapter had me setting my house on fire (joke). the brainworms never stopped. the entire chapter is so crazy ot3 but this moment is my favorite and overall the message/highlight of obi's resolve & his answer to zen's questions. it also showed more than any other moment obi's love & dedication to shirayuki and zen. shirayuki isn't even in this scene but it's still my favorite ot3 moment in the manga so far <3

and now, some honorable mentions. these following moments were all contenders for top 10 bc obznyk is so good. also these are not all of the obznyk moments in the manga ofc. there are many that i couldn't find in my screenshots and tried to find skimming through the manga but failed lol. these are just some classics/faves.

zen's iconic heart eyes

pretty early on in their relationship development, zen liking seeing them together ;;

zen being so happy around obi and shirayuki ;-;

zen introducing himself as obi and shirayuki's companion <3 it's just spelled out at this point lol

zen's heart eyes pt 100, if this post didn't have a limit i would've posted so many more of these

shirayuki and zen fretting over obi and then spying on him (while obi knows and is having the time of his life stringing them along) because he was seen with a pretty lady

it's like a part of me is always by their side <3 <3 <3 this would've been n10, but it's now the official number 11 moment

shirayuki and zen putting their full trust in obi to the point of fully letting their guard down, and obi realizing that for the first time, he's wholeheartedly wanted.

zen and shirayuki being the obi detection/protection squad <3

there's so much more. i love them so much <333333

#akagami no shirayukihime #obizenyuki #zen wisteria #ans obi #ans shirayuki #ans manga #akagami no shirayukihime manga #ans manga caps #obi ans #shirayuki ans #ot3: i'm willing to go anywhere #if yall doubted my obznyk craziness. i wrote a literal essay on how perfect they are for each other like 4 years ago.#its still sitting in my google docs lol #anyway sorry for typing soo much . this took so long #okay just checked bc i have no concept of time. it was two years ago lol.

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haveatthee83 · 2 months

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The Princess and her Fool (Buggy D. Clown/Reader) 2/4

Inspo: BABY SAID-MÅNESKIN & @sordidmusings Tender Love and Care

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Word Count: ~9.7k

Warnings: SMUT!! MINORS DNI, cursing, insecurity, cunnilingus, oral, irresponsible use of devil fruits, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.

A/N: MÅNESKIN is Buggy coded, no I won't elaborate, all chapters are inspired by different MÅNESKIN songs. Also, absolutely read the linked fic, @sordidmusings is an ICONIC writer with amazing fics. @fanaticsnail as well. They're actually the reason I started posting on Tumblr at all, so all the love for and to them. ❤️❤️❤️

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Buggy hated the bag. The fuckin itchy ass bag those asshole Straw-Hats kept him in when they decided his jokes weren’t very entertaining anymore, between navigation attempts. It smelled, it rubbed against the skin of his nose in a way that made him hate it more than he already did, and worst of all, it made it so he didn’t even have the peace of looking around at his surroundings to distract him from the pain of Arlong’s pirates’ darts games. The only reprieve he got from the irritating fabric was when you were on “Clown Watch”.

You had taken it upon yourself to make sure Buggy(‘s head) was well cared for and comfortable. You had no good reason to do so, logically speaking. He’d been awful to you and your friends not too long ago. He was a ruthless, horrid pirate captain who would be immediately put to death by the government if he ever crossed a Marine’s path. His own parents didn’t want anything to do with him just for being born. It’s not like you even remember him. You didn’t even realize he’s your childhood friend, Peacock. And yet…here you were. Doting on him.

“Now,” you started, still facing away from Buggy, running your mop over the wooden planks of the ship’s deck, “I know this is pretty boring, but I gotta just finish this section, then we can get some lunch! I heard Sanji’s making hot sandwiches and lemonade. I’ll make sure to snag you some too, okay?”

Buggy blinked at you from his perch on his barrel for a moment, just taking you in. You were humming, swaying with the rocking waves, the sun beating down onto your exposed shoulders over your tank top. Your smile was small, but content as you eyed the planks below you attentively.

‘Does she actually think I give a shit that it’s boring to watch someone mop? I’m outside. I can breathe clearly. That’s already miles ahead of the norm.’ Buggy thought.

“That-that’s alright Doll…” he said, swallowing the rest of his thoughts.

You immediately sensed that something was wrong, eyeing Buggy over your shoulder with a piercing glare, “What’s wrong, Buggy?” he tried to sputter out an excuse or something to get you to drop it. You did no such thing, fully turning around to face him, coming up to the barrel he sat on and crouched down to his level. Unrelated but relevant-to him, this gave Buggy a perfect eye full of your chest under your tank top. “Uh-uh. You haven’t made any jokes in like thirty minutes. No raunchy comments about my ass when I was turned around, no comments about the ‘shitty cook’? Nothing. Are you okay?” you said genuinely, perching your hands on the rim of the barrel in front of Buggy.

‘Your ass does look great in those shorts.’ Buggy thought.

Buggy swallowed, scowling at you, “I’m fine, Doll face,” you frowned, holding his gaze like you were trying to read his mind.

“People who are fine don’t act like completely different people out of nowhere.” You scolded, wagging a finger in Buggy’s face. “Do you have a fever or something? Are you getting too hot?” you asked, automatically reaching a hand toward Buggy’s forehead, only stopping short by a centimeter, “Is it…can I feel your forehead, Buggy?” you asked.

Buggy felt heat rising to his face, his ears burning, “You can, but I feel fine.”

Your frown returned, having just melted off of your face. You rolled your eyes and huffed, “Men.” You muttered under your breath, gently laying your warm hand on Buggy’s forehead. Buggy had to actively stop himself from sighing into your touch, setting his jaw. You scanned his face, brows furrowed. “You do feel kinda warm…” you trailed off, looking at the spotless floors around you, weighing something out in your mind. After a moment, you nodded resolutely and stood straight, eyes never leaving Buggy’s face for long. “Let’s go inside. We can stay in my room for the afternoon. I don’t think the ship will sink if I don’t re-mop one little corner.” You say, gently taking Buggy into your hands, minding his face.

You settle him against your torso, facing forwards as you walk towards the kitchen. As you carefully swing open the kitchen door, finding Sanji hard at work, a pile of grilled sandwiches building up higher and higher next to him. Buggy heard and felt you giggle a bit, “Busy, Sanji?” you jest, setting Buggy down onto the counter.

“Never too busy for you, mon cher,” Sanji purred, continuing to produce sandwiches at an almost concerning pace, “Luffy’s going to eat through this stack in less than a minute, and I’m still trying to gauge how much I should be making for him.” Sanji chuckled as he turned his head, looking at you over his shoulder.

You smiled, shaking your head at your captain’s antics, all the while reaching up to a cabinet just above Buggy’s head, the fabric of your tank top riding up and brushing his face, his wide eyes able to drink in the expanse of skin that was revealed. Buggy clenched his jaw and tried to suppress the heat that was rising to his ears.

You found what you were looking for, two glasses. That didn’t help Buggy’s predicament at all, he’s hopelessly not used to being taken care of, thought of, or helped…at all. By a pretty girl who laughed at his jokes? EVEN LESS.

“Where’d you put the lemonade, Sanji?” you asked, resting the glasses next to Buggy.

“Oh, right over here.”

“Great!” you reached over and found the large jug of cool liquid and brought it back over to Buggy, pouring the glasses full to the brim. You paused as you set it down, eyeing Buggy closely. Buggy could almost feel himself beginning to sweat, ‘maybe she’s realizing I’m not good enough for all of this.’ Just as the thought entered his mind, you beamed, an idea popping into your head. You quickly opened a drawer right beneath Buggy and grabbed something, you eyed Buggy with a mischievous grin and tucked the item into your back pocket. Buggy tried to question you, his brow cocking up when you interrupted him, leaning to his eye level and whispering, eyeing Sanji. “How hungry are you? I can grab a few extra sandwiches if you want. Sanji lets girls get away with a lot more than the boys.” You said, your hand cupped next to your mouth, trying to minimize any sound heading Sanji’s way.

Buggy felt that heat rising in his face again, “You-you don’t have to do that for me, Doll! Seriously” he sputtered, trying his best to keep his voice down.

You rolled your eyes and flicked Buggy’s ear as you stood back up, immediately walking over to Sanji’s side, grabbing a plate. “Could I grab a few extra sandwiches, Sanji?” you asked, resting your free hand onto his forearm. Buggy could see the tips of Sanji’s ears go red. “They look delicious, and I was hoping to get some for my night watch tonight, you know, before Luffy eats them all?” you giggled, subtly leaning into Sanji’s space that little bit more. Buggy was suppressing a frown when you eyed him over Sanji’s shoulder with a grin and a little wink.

‘Ah, flirting as a means to an end.’ Buggy kind of figured that’s what you were doing, but seeing you being flirty with someone other than him had his teeth grinding.

“Anything for you, mon cher,” Sanji proclaimed, serving you up four sandwiches fresh out of the pan. “Let me know if you need anything else.” He purred. You smiled and voiced your thanks, giving Sanji a quick hug, rushing Buggy’s way. Sanji was too distracted by your hug to notice you whipping out of the room, feet pattering down the hall.

You set Buggy down onto your bed, resting him onto your plush pillow. “Sanji’s a great cook, but that little flirt is barking up all the wrong trees,” you giggled, “he’s way too young for me, and of course Nami is not into it.” With a grin, you slid a crate you had been using as a side table over toward your bed, resting the food and drinks onto it. After setting it down you stood up and stretched your sore muscles, a chorus of pops and cracks coming from your joints. You sighed at the feeling.

Buggy watched you, peering at you from his position on your pillow. His eyes raked over your figure, resting onto the bare skin of your legs, and finding the small side string of your bikini peaking over the hem of your shorts. Buggy swallowed dryly, trying to stop staring like some perv, but he honestly felt like he couldn’t. Because that’s when his eyes laid rest on your face, your eyes closed, your lashes brushing your cheeks. Your soft lips parted just slightly. In that moment, Buggy felt like he might have found the most beautiful thing the whole ocean had to offer. Buggy didn’t want to leave you in a few days. He wanted you to come with him. He wanted a lot of things with you, but…he knew he needed to see you more. Being cut off cold turkey after days full of little moments where he’s been the happiest that he’s been since Gol D. Roger? That might destroy him.

“So, I was thinking lunch, then I need a bath, then we can read more of our book together or something if you want.” You said, rolling out your neck. Your eye cracked open at his silence and your brow furrowed. You eyed Buggy, coming to take a seat on your bed, taking Buggy in your hands as you adjusted yourself to sit comfortably. When you settled, you sat Buggy back on your pillow and frowned. “What’s wrong, Buggy?” you asked, carefully moving a piece of hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear.

Honestly? Buggy was out of funny things to say. There was nothing funny about the way you made him feel.

Buggy sighed, “I don’t know, Doll. It’s hard to explain.” He said, and you couldn’t help but notice he wouldn’t meet your eye.

“If you don’t want to talk about it…is there something I can do to make it better? Easier?” you asked, “I’m here to help you, okay Bugs?” you said with a smile, your hand reaching out to hold the side of his face. Buggy leaned into your hand without thinking, stiffening when he realized what he’d done. But…when he looked up at your face, you were just smiling. You held the most genuine smile he’d seen in years. “Here, let’s eat.” You said, stroking Buggy’s cheek with your thumb before taking your hand back, grabbing one of the glasses of lemonade.

Buggy couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, “How am I gonna drink that? I’m gonna get lemonade all over your bed.”

Your grin only widened as you reached behind you and produced from your back pocket…a bendy straw. Buggy’s eyebrows drew together in just sheer confusion. Confusion about how he got here, what he could have done to deserve this. To deserve you. And frankly, he was drawing a blank.

A gentle tink of the straw disturbing the ice in the glass made Buggy come to. You giggled a bit as you lowered the glass to Buggy’s level, holding the straw still for him. Buggy only hesitated for a heartbeat before (metaphorically) shrugging and taking a long sip from the straw. The lemonade was good, perfectly tart, not too sweet, and ice cold. How long had it been since he had lemonade?

“Alright, for the sandwiches, do you want me to rip them up or just hold it for you?” you asked, swapping the lemonade for the plate of sandwiches.

Buggy found himself stuttering again, “What-whatever’s easier for you, I guess.” He muttered. You nodded and grabbed one of the sandwich halves, minding your fingers against the hot fillings. You carefully ripped off a corner, holding it out to Buggy as you took a bite of the larger piece. Buggy carefully took the sandwich piece in his mouth, trying not to spook you by accidentally brushing his lips against your fingers.

As Buggy chewed on his meal, he thought to himself, ‘Wait…would…would she mind?’ Buggy had this funny little thing about him. He was a bit of a failure…but he was always failing up. He could stub his toe on a rock and by doing that, break a 100-year curse and get three wishes. So…maybe if he takes a little chance…fuck it.

“Damn that blond can cook.” You mutter, taking another bite of the sandwich half in your hand. After you took a bite, you ripped off another chunk of the sandwich and held it out for Buggy. Buggy couldn’t help but snort out a little laugh at your awe. You were right, they were damn good sandwiches, but your reaction completely caught him off guard.

You whipped your head to lock eyes onto Buggy’s. You hadn’t heard him laugh all day, and you realized in that moment that it was probably your favorite sound. “Eat your damned food, Buggy.” You said, thrusting the food closer to his face with a chuckle. Buggy complied with a grin, biting into it a bit too far, his lips brushing your fingertips as he pulled it away from your grasp. You physically stuttered at the feeling, your hand freezing in place, and you could feel warmth rushing your face. Buggy watched your face through his lashes, drinking in your flustered expression, a little pit of fear in his chest, miles away, but you didn’t leave. You didn’t yell, grimace, or smack him. You just stared for a moment. When you realized you were just sitting there like an idiot, you blinked yourself out of your stupor, shaking your head and handing him the rest of the sandwich half.

Buggy was feeling brave, a little high on your reactions. That’s why when you handed him the last bit, he decided to take a rather large bite. A bite big enough that his teeth nipped at your fingertips. You gasped, taking your hand back before flicking his ear, “No biting.” You hissed.

“No promises,” Buggy teased, a smirk spreading across his face. You sighed and grabbed another sandwich half, the rest of your lunch full of little nips and reprimands.

“I need a bath, Bugs.” You said, rifling through your drawers to find some fresh clothes.

Buggy huffed, “So? Why does that mean I have to deal with that moody-“ you cut him off with a deadpan stare. “I won’t look!” he insisted.

“And I should believe the infamous pirate captain, why?” you asked standing in front of him with your new outfit and a towel in your arms.

“Aww, you think I’m famous?” Buggy grinned. You crossed your arms and set your hip to the side, a pointed glare on your face. Buggy deflated a bit, eyeing the floor, “Come on, Starshine. I don’t wanna go back in the bag.” He muttered.

He saw you tense in his peripherals before dropping to your knees in front of him, taking his head in your hands, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. Buggy lifted his gaze to lock with your concerned eyes, “Do you…” you hesitated, clearing your throat, “I can ask if you can…just stay with me when you aren’t navigating.” You murmured, eyes searching his face for-something. What? Buggy had no idea.

Buggy’s eyes widened, “You don’t have to-“

“I want to.”

“You’d put up- “

“With what? Listening to jokes that make me laugh and keeping good company?”

“I’m not-“

“I’m asking.” You said firmly, “Don’t try anything stupid, I’ll be right back.” You said, and that’s when it happened. On reflex, without even thinking about it, like it was as natural as breathing, you rested your lips against Buggy’s hairline. It was quick, barely a peck, but it was enough. You rushed out of the room, “ZORO! LUFFY!” you called out, the sound of your voice and foot falls fading as you reached the end of the hallway.

Buggy felt like he was on fire, like every nerve in his body was lit up and buzzing with electricity. ‘You…you kissed me!’ he thought. ‘Me?! Buggy D. Clown?! You kissed me, and you’re about to ask…to spend more time with me?’ Buggy was dead, that had to be the answer. He was dead and had bribed his way into heaven. You were an angel sent to create his paradise. Well, maybe not. His paradise would probably include the rest of his body, and…other activities. Maybe you were just that amazing. Maybe you saw a pitiful, bodyless pirate captain with a big red nose and thought he deserved kindness. Thought he was a person worthy of your attention and affection. Maybe you…liked him.

“Okay, so,” you started, heaving the door to your room open, “You’re stuck with me now.” You said, walking toward where he sat on your pillow, “But, I had to take some extra night watches, so you better keep me company.” You chuckled, picking up your clothes and towel, rifling through drawers to find something.

“What are you doing, Doll?” Buggy asked as you gently lifted him up into your arms, heading out the door.

“I need a bath.” You said simply.

“Right.”

“You really are acting weird, Buggy. You haven’t been joking much at all today. You’ve only laughed like once all day!” You whispered, making your way through the halls to the bathroom.

“I’m fine-“

“Bullshit.” You said, pushing into the small bathroom. You gently rested Buggy onto the edge of the tub, turning on the water. “You have been weird all day! And not the good kind!” you insisted, testing the temperature.

“I have-“ God, could Buggy complete one sentence around you. He cut himself off as he saw you begin to take your tank top over your head. “Wha-what are you doing?!” Buggy exclaimed, unable to suppress the red rush of heat coming into his face.

You tossed the shirt to the side, unbuttoning your shorts, “Getting ready for a bath?” you giggled, pulling the shorts down your legs. Buggy unabashedly eyed your body, now only covered by a small, tie string bikini. He watched as you bent over to grab the shorts off where it had caught on your foot, the way you were reaching down squeezing your breasts together in such a way that made Buggy somewhat glad that his body was miles away. “I’ll keep the bikini on, so you don’t have to leave,” you said, suddenly bashful as you wrapped your arms around your middle.

“Well, don’t feel like you have to on my account.” Buggy muttered, to which you narrowed your eyes and walked over to the tub.

“Feeling better, Buggy?” you teased, stepping into the bath, lowering yourself into the warm water with a sigh.

“Might feel even better without that bikini in the way.” He chuckled.

You smiled and rolled your eyes, turning off the water as the bath was full. Buggy watched you as you dunked your head back and under the water, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy at your complete lack of fear in the sloshing liquid. ‘Fucking Shanks.’

When you rose back out of the water, you brushed your hair out of your face and rubbed the water out of your eyes. “Would you like me to wash your hair? Maybe get that makeup off your face? Little refresh?” you said, squeezing water out of your hair.

Buggy eyes the water cautiously, “I don’t know, Doll face. You know how water and devil fruits don’t mix.”

Your eyes softened as you reached up, moving some hair from his face that had fallen in all the excitement. “I’ll keep you safe.” You whispered, gently caressing his face.

Buggy swallowed dryly, but nodded, “You let me drown and I’ll bite you.” He said as you grinned.

“Deal!” you said, reaching over the edge of the tub to find a wide, smooth plank of wood, placing it across the tub in front of you. You grabbed Buggy and put him onto the plank, gauging his reaction, “Is this okay? I thought it might be better than just putting you into the water.” Buggy nodded, again feeling lost for words at your thoughtfulness. “Okay, great! Do you mind if I take off your bandana now?” you asked, fingers brushing over the fabric.

“Kinda hard to wash my hair with it on, eh Doll?”

“I just…don’t want to do anything without your permission, Buggy. It must be so…disarming to be just a head, I mean, the boys are always man handling you without asking, so…I want to always make sure I don’t do that.” You explained, studying his face.

“God dammit.” Buggy hissed, “That’s my problem, Doll!” he exclaimed.

You furrowed your brow, setting your hands back in your lap under the water. “What?”

Buggy huffed, overwhelmed and trying to find the words, “You-you’re just so…Why do you-what did I. Ugh! Why are you so nice to me?!” Buggy finally spat out. Your expression softened again as you reached back up, holding his face with one of your hands. “You’re so-so nice, and pretty, and you laugh at my jokes, even if they suck-and you-you think of everything all the time! Like the bendy straw and just this stupid wood thing! You knew I was afraid of water so you-you made sure to get this so you could still help me! I just don-“ God, one sentence.

You cut Buggy off by picking him up, still chattering away and bringing your lips to his own, a soft, quick peck, but it was enough. You drew him back just a bit, enough for him to tell you to fuck off if he so pleased, but he didn’t.

“Oh.” Buggy huffed, locking his eyes on yours. “I didn’t think you’d…” Buggy trailed off as you drew him back into another embrace, your lips pressing against his in a gentle pressure that he returned, his lips moving hesitantly against yours. You moved in synch as your fingers nimbly moved Buggy’s bandana off, seeking his hair between your fingers. Just as Buggy was thinking about venturing further, his tongue just about to flick across yours, you pulled him back, pure adoration in your gaze.

“I like you, Buggy. A lot.” You said, “I thought you were funny and pretty when I first saw you but…getting to know you while I’ve been on ‘Clown Watch’.” You giggled at the name, resting Buggy back onto the plank of wood, “I’ve come to like you as a person. You make me…feel safe. You make me laugh, you’re one of the most quick-witted people I’ve ever met, and well-I just…I think about you all the time. I think about how you’re doing,” you continued, picking up a cup and laying Buggy back, wetting his hair, “I think about what kind of things you like. I think about if you…really even like me at all or if you just put up with me.” You trailed off, grabbing the bottle of shampoo from next to you. You kept your gaze on his hair as you knelt up to reach his scalp, the smell of passionfruit and something floral invading his senses.

Buggy was perplexed, you of all people thought Buggy might not like being around you. You’re wonderful! “Why the fuck would you think that?” Buggy exclaimed, startling you a bit.

“I don’t know…people don’t really…like me like that.” You muttered, a sad look on your face. “I’m never the prettiest or the smartest or the funniest in a group. There’s just always someone better. Like Nami. She’s gorgeous, and I’m-I’m pretty normal.” You continued massaging the aromatic soap into his scalp, your nails gently scratching the skin occasionally.

“I think that’s bullshit.” Buggy muttered, his eyes scanning your face as you still refused to look at him. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I love just listening to you talk, and you’re the nicest person I’ve met. You’re pretty flashy if you ask me.” He said resolutely, closing his eyes, like that would make you incapable of arguing with him.

“Are you just being nice?” you asked after a while, running the cup of water over his hair, gently coaxing out the suds.

Buggy’s eyes snapped open at that,“Look at me.” You still only kept your eyes on your work, He whispered your name, not some Doll or some other nickname, your government name, causing your eyes to snap to his, wide with fear, “I like you too. More than you know. You’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time, and it’s only been a few days. I-I’m dreading finding Arlong and that tangerine girl, cause that means…I probably won’t see you again.” He confessed, eyes searching yours.

Your eyes welled up a bit as you poured conditioner into your hand, running it through the lengths of his hair, the same passion fruit scent wafting over him. “I know. I-I try not to think about it.” You whispered, grabbing the cup and rinsing the slick soap from his ends.

“You could come with me.” Buggy muttered, it was so quiet you could have mistaken it for the wind.

You smiled softly, setting Buggy back up on his neck, squeezing his long hair out, “I wish I could. Really. I do.” You said, your eyes pricking with tears, threatening to fall.

“Why can’t you?”

“I made a promise. A vow. To Luffy. I can’t leave him until I…find something.” You grabbed a soft rag from your pile of stuff and sat back properly, soaking the fabric.

“What do you need to find?” Surely you could find it with Buggy.

Your eyes darkened a bit as you brought the rag up to Buggy’s face, gently running it along his skin. “It’s hard to explain, I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Try me.” You set your jaw and seemed to search Buggy’s face, analyzing every little movement and twitch.

“I’m looking for my father’s Devil Fruit.” You whispered, running the rag over Buggy’s forehead.

Buggy’s brows pinched together, “Why the fuck would you want that?” he asked, you didn’t even pause your motions, still slowly cutting through Buggy’s makeup.

“I need to eat it so I can carry on his line. I’m his only child, and that fruit has been passed down in our family since Devil Fruits first came around. When he died,” you started, ignoring Buggy’s bewildered expression, “Marines raided his funeral. His funeral, Buggy! In my family, the funeral also is the ceremony where the next in line eats the fruit. Just as I was about to take it, the Marines came and…and killed the rest of my family. They killed my mother. When they escaped, I chased them down the dock and stole someone’s boat. I had no chance of finding them, but I tried. Luffy found me stranded in the middle of the East Blue on that little boat, no provisions or anything, in my torn up ceremonial gown, sun burnt to hell and back. He brought me on without question and helped me get better. When I was better and I told him what happened, he promised to help me find it. I promised to stay with his crew and help him until we do, then I’d go on my own way, find my own path.”

“Do you know which Marines have it?”

“No, but we heard it was relocated to Loguetown.” You said, wiping one final stripe against Buggy’s skin. “We’re going there next after we find Nami. It’s on the way to the Grand Line anyways.”

“Which fruit is it?” Buggy asked as you set the rag down, going back to grab the shampoo for yourself.

As you spoke you ran the soap through your hair, “It’s not very well known, since we’ve kept it safe all these years. So, you might not know it. It’s called the Kaku Kaku no Mi. The paint paint fruit. It makes it so whatever you paint manifests in real life. I paint a cat, a cat appears. I paint a ship, a ship appears. It works best with inanimate objects but can create golem like living things. It could be used in many corrupt ways, so we’ve kept it in the family and have worked for generations to keep it from the government. And I go and mess it all up in one little raid. I should have been able to fight them back. Protect the fruit. But I didn’t.” you said resolutely, dunking your head under the water, just enough to submerge your hair.

“You couldn’t have fought off a whole marine raid on your own, Doll.” Buggy muttered.

“I should have done something.” You said.

You spent the rest of the bath in relative silence, Buggy making a few quips to try and break the tension, unsuccessfully. When you finished, you pulled the plug and rose out of the water, pulling your towel around your body before reaching down to grab another towel you had brought to wrap around Buggy’s now clean head. ‘You even brought me my own towel? What the fu-‘

“I’ll keep your face hidden so the boys don’t see you without your makeup.” You muttered, everything you needed gathered in your arms. You sighed as you held Buggy against your torso, making sure his towel was securely hiding his face. “I know it’s hard not having it on. I can redo it before night watch,”

Buggy rested his head against you fully, “You’re too damned nice, Doll.” He whispered, watching the light change over and over again as you walked through the halls of the ship.

“Maybe your expectations are just too low, Buggy.” You whispered back, pushing your door open. When in your room, you rested Buggy on your dresser, his hair still dripping onto the towel below him. You put the rest of the stuff you held down onto the ground, turning back to Buggy with a small smile, “I’m gonna turn you around so I can change, okay, Bugs?” you muttered, stroking his cheek.

Buggy swallowed the lump in his throat, “Whatever you need, Beautiful.” He whispered, sighing as you gently turned Buggy’s face to the wall.

“I’ll try to be quick,” you muttered, the sound of you untying your swimsuit filling Buggy’s ears. “Incoming!” you exclaim with a giggle, and Buggy felt the wet slap of your bikini top hitting the back of his head.

Buggy sputtered out a laugh, “What was that for?”

You continued giggling and Buggy heard your feet patter up close behind him, the warmth of your body beating against his neck, “I was aiming for my laundry hamper. I missed.” You said, grabbing the top off of his head. “Sorry, Bugs.”

“Gimme a peek and all is forgiven, Doll face.” He snickered.

“Keep asking like that and I might,” you purred, suddenly right next to his ear, a gentle nip at one of his piercings.

Buggy felt his whole face light up immediately, “You’re killing me, Doll.” He whined. “I don’t even have hands right now.”

“I know…but you know what?” you said, still right behind the clown’s ear, “I wonder what you’d do if you did.” With that you shoved yourself away, the rustle of fabric harmonizing with your laughter.

Buggy called out your name, “You can’t just talk like that, Starlight.”

You grabbed Buggy and flipped him around on the dresser, facing you, fully dressed, “You want me to stop?” you asked, bottom lip between your teeth, inches away from his face.

“Never,” Buggy whispered. You grinned, leaning in and pressing your lips to his. The kiss was small and quick, but you pulled away with a smile. “Come on, pretty girl,”

“What?”

“You should rest up before your night watch.” He muttered, tilting his head toward your bed. “Don’t want you falling asleep on duty.” Buggy teased, smiling as you ran your fingers through his damp hair.

“On two conditions.” You giggle, drying his hair with his towel.

“Shoot.”

“One, you nap with me.”

“Done.”

“Two,” You start to laugh again, “you let me braid your hair when we wake up.”

Buggy furrowed his brow, incredulous, “You wanna do what?”

“Yeah! When we wake up, I’ll braid your hair and redo your makeup!” you explained, picking Buggy up and walking toward your bed. When you settled under the covers, you rested Buggy on your chest, still facing you. “Please?” Buggy squinted at you, unsure. “I’ll let you pick what we do during night watch!” you sing songed, nudging your nose against Buggy’s.

“Watch the nose,” he started, “But…deal.”

“I like your nose.” You whispered, a gleam in your eye.

“Bullshit.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yeah-huh!”

“I think it’s pretty. Just like the rest of you.” You ran your fingers over Buggy’s face, his soft lashes brushing against your fingertips. “You know, the first time I saw you, I know you were trying to hurt us, but…all I could think about was how-“

“Ugly I am?”

“Beautiful you are.” You and Buggy answered at the same time.

“You hit your head, Doll face?” he huffed. “Cause no one thinks this mug is beautiful. My own mother didn’t think this face was worth keeping around.”

You frowned, “You talk so poorly about yourself. I happen to think you’re the most beautiful, wonderful, flashy,” you add with a grin, “man I’ve ever met.”

Buggy opened his mouth to protest again, only for you to grab his face again and shift onto your side, resting his head against your pillow in front of your face.

“Sleep, Buggy.” With that, Buggy sighed and let his eyes droop closed, lulled to sleep by your steady breathing.

“You’re gonna poke my eye out, babe.” Buggy muttered.

You laughed, easing the pressure of the brush against his face, “I just really want to match it.” You said, holding up the wanted poster in your hand.

Resuming your ministrations, applying Buggy’s crossbones, Buggy couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you have that, anyway?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, “I saw it in this girl named Kaya’s village. I try to keep up with bounties, see if I have one yet, you know? When I was looking through them, I saw yours, nice bounty by the way, and I don’t know. I wanted to keep it. In honor of the first pirate that I ran into with Luffy, you know?” you eyed the paints at your side as you mutter, “It helped that you look kinda hot in your poster.” You said with a grin.

Buggy snorted a laugh, “You’d look great on a wanted poster, Doll.” He sighed under the cool feeling of the paints running across his skin, “Why don’t you have a bounty yet?”

“I haven’t been caught,” you chuckled. “I’ve had my fair share of hijinks and blown up Marine ships…” you trail off with a mischievous lilt to your voice. “They just don’t know it’s me. They’ll know after Loguetown, though. They might even know after we leave Arlong Park. One of the crew members that helped defeat one of the most prolific captains in the East Blue.” You said with a chuckle.

“Oh yeah, that’d get you a good one.” Buggy smirked.

You paused, gently resting your hands in your lap. “When you get your body back…” you trail off, finding your words. “Will you help us with Arlong or are you gonna go as soon as you can?” you asked, resuming your painting with a sigh.

“I don’t-“

“You can go.” You muttered, “You don’t have to help us, you know? You don’t owe us anything, and I know the boys aren’t exactly your favorite people. We can take care of ourselves. It’s okay.” Buggy’s brows pinched together, just as his mouth opened to respond, you rested your finger on his lips with a smile, “Seriously. It’s okay.”

As you turned to get more paint on your brush Buggy spoke, “Please come with me, Doll.”

Your motions stuttered, “You know I can’t, Buggy.” You whispered, adding the finishing touches.

“I don’t want to just go about my life like you don’t exist.”

You bit your lips, grabbing Buggy’s head and holding him to your eye level, “…wait for me?”

“Huh?”

“I’ll go with you, after I find my father’s fruit in Loguetown. Find me after, and I’ll go with you. I’ll follow you to the ends of the sea, all across the Grand Line, just…wait for me.”

“How would I know you found it?” he asked.

Your face broke out into a sly grin, “Keep an eye out for my bounty poster. You’ll know I found it when I’m smiling in my picture, smiling because I’ll know that I’m that much closer to being back with you.”

Buggy nodded, setting his jaw, “I’ll see what I can do, Doll.” He agreed, “But just know,” you cocked a brow, “I’m not a patient man.”

Your smile broke out wide across your face, giving Buggy a quick peck on the lips before setting him down in your lap, facing away from you, “Now let me braid your hair. I’m thinking two Dutch braids.”

When you finished your braiding, Buggy was two minutes from falling into a deep sleep, his eyes bleary and drooping closed. He only roused from his relaxation when you started tying his bandana back onto his head.

“Your hair is so nice, Bugs.” You muttered, running your hands along your handiwork. “The color is to die for.” You said, picking him up and putting him onto the crate next to you. You stood and gathered all of your belongings off of the floor, putting them away where they belong.

“You’re one to talk,” Buggy chuckled, “you’re probably the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You eyed Buggy over your shoulder, “You mean that?”

“Of course, Doll.” You felt yourself flush as you turned away and grabbed the book you and Buggy had been reading together, shoving it into your back pocket, before coming over to him and picking him up and making your way to the deck, heading to the crow’s nest. The setting sun painted the ship in pinks, oranges, and purples.

“Hey! Clown Lady!” you whipped around to where the voice came from, seeing Zoro in all his moody glory, striding toward you two.

“She has a name, moss head!” Buggy growled.

Zoro snarled, “Wasn’t talking to you, clown.”

You frowned, “He’s still a person, Zoro. Don’t be a dick.”

Zoro looked at you, bewildered, “I’m not touching that can of worms.” He muttered. “I need the clown. Sniper boy’s lost again.” He explained, reaching his hand out to take Buggy out of your arms, aiming for his bandana.

You frowned and turned your body away from Zoro’s grasp, beginning to walk to where Usopp sat at the helm, “I can take him, thanks.” Zoro blinked a few times, trying to process what just happened before shaking his head and following you.

“Hi, Usopp! Heard you needed Buggy’s help?” you said, resting Buggy against the railing next to the wheel.

“You need to be two clicks more to the East, now, let’s go, Doll face.” Buggy exclaimed, hoping to get back to your precious solitude for the last couple days you two had left.

“Woah, hold on!” Usopp called out, trying to adjust the steering accordingly, “How far out are we?”

“Should be the day after tomorrow.” Buggy muttered, “Can I go now? We were having fun, Pinocchio.” He said nodding toward you.

“Be nice.” You hissed, flicking Buggy’s ear.

He laughed with a wince, “I am nice.”

“I-I guess that’s all I need then.” Usopp said, trailing off, “You’ve never been so…succinct.”

Buggy rolled his eyes and nudged your arm, “Let’s go, I wanna read the next chapter.”

You chuckled and agreed, “We’ll be in the crow’s nest if you need us.” You trailed off as you pattered over to the mast.

“How are you gonna tell Luffy?” Usopp muttered.

Zoro frowned, “What?”

“She’s not staying. Not long at least.”

“What are you talking about?” Zoro’s eyes narrowed, his hand reflexively trying to rest on the hilts of his swords.

Usopp sighed, letting out a quiet chuckle, “They’re in love.” He said resolutely, “She won’t stay away from him long. She’ll go with him soon.”

Zoro grit his teeth as he thought about telling his captain that you would leave. “Maybe it’s not my place. Maybe she should tell him.”

“Maybe.”

“As the battle came to a close, the princess found herself heaving for breath, dragging her battered, armored body across corpses of men better than she, trying to find her beloved knight. Her eyes stung with tears as she called out to him-“ Buggy wasn’t listening. Well, he was, but not very closely. He was more focused on your face, watching as your eyes glimmered in the moonlight, as your face mimicked the mood of the passage you read. “-she screamed up to the heavens as she held her love in her arms, begging any god who’d listen to wake him. She was inconsolable when a figure approached her-“ Buggy’s eyes roamed over you further, taking in your smooth skin, lit up by the lantern you’d brought up with you to read. Buggy’s gaze traveled over the hills and valleys of your form, your soft lips, your nimble hands, every curve and edge he could soak in. His attention lingered around your plush legs, his mouth going a bit dry. You really were beautiful.

“What do you want to do when you find it?” Buggy’s voice shocked even him; he hadn’t thought about saying anything. You stopped your reading, eyeing the clown with furrowed brows. “I mean-like what do you wanna do with your life?”

You pursed your lips and sighed, “I’m getting asked about this a lot lately.” Nevertheless, you slid a bookmark into the book in your hand and set it aside, instead taking Buggy into your grasp, setting him against your raised knees. “It’s stupid.” You warned.

Buggy rolled his eyes with a smirk, “Try me.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead opting to look at your lantern, “I kinda…I want to,” you trailed off, heat rising to your face. Buggy just nodded in encouragement, “I want to perform.” You finally spat out, squinting your eyes closed. “I’m sure it sounds silly to you, Mister Ringleader. But I want to be a performer.”

Buggy’s brain practically short circuited, could you be more perfect? “Why would I think that’s ‘silly’?”

You shrugged, “I know it’s not just as easy as wanting to do it, I guess. I know it’s a lot of work. It must sound ridiculous hearing someone talk about doing it with no experience.” You explained, nervously fiddling with one of Buggy’s braids.

Buggy chuckled a bit, “No, Doll.” He started, glad to meet your big, beautiful eyes again, “I think it’s really cool that you want to be a performer. It’s…nice.” You gave Buggy a little smile, “What kind of act do you want to do?”

You giggled and shrugged again, “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeves, but I don’t know what people would actually want to see”

“Lay it on me.”

“Huh?”

“Tell me whatcha got.”

Your face practically burned as you spoke, “Well, I learned how to fire breathe, I love acrobatics, I mean, that trapeze stuff is so fun,” you gushed, making Buggy’s heart warm, “I do a bit of dance, and I’m not a bad sword swallower, but I really like dagger throwing.”

“Yeah?” Buggy encouraged, “You sound like a little jack of all trades, don’t ya?”

You shrugged, “I had a weird upbringing. Traveled with my dad and ran into all sorts of people. I probably wouldn’t have learned half of it if it weren’t for these friends I had though.”

Buggy’s heart skipped a beat, “Who’s that?”

You beamed, “When I was fifteen, these two boys docked with their pirate crew on my island. I met them as soon as they touched ground, one of em was a right little shit and pissed me off. Tried flirting me up, so I clocked him.” You dissolved into giggles at the memory.

‘Fucking Shanks.’ Buggy thought.

“He tried fighting back, but I knocked him out cold!” Buggy smiled at the memory, “His buddy came up and tried to mediate the situation, I was so mad, I was ready to keep beating up his unconscious buddy. I only stopped and calmed down cause I thought he was cute, all worried and trying to fix things,” you giggled, making Buggy’s eyes widen. “He was awkward as all get-out, but he convinced me to chill. We sat around and talked while we waited for his buddy to wake up. When he did, we all agreed to hang out while they were there, I’d be their little tour guide and we’d have a ball together. It was so nice. They’re the ones who introduced me to performing at all.” You continued, still fiddling with Buggy’s braid, “The cute one taught me how to throw knives. He was so damned good at it too! I kept practicing all these years later in hopes that if I see him again, maybe I’d beat him in this little game we came up with. It’s basically darts but with knives.”

Buggy felt himself looking at you like you hung the moon, “We’ll have to play sometime.” He muttered. ‘Should I tell her?’

You nodded and smiled, “You’d be good at it.”

‘Yeah, I came up with it.’

“Why aren’t you performing now?” Buggy asked.

You rolled your eyes, “What’s with the third degree, Buggy?” you teased.

Buggy stuck his tongue out at you, “I distinctly remember you telling me I could pick what we do up here,” the clown mocked you.

“Didn’t think you’d pick interrogating me.” You teased. “Thought you ‘d pick something a bit more…fun.” You purred, stroking Buggy’s cheek.

Buggy swallowed dryly, “That can be…arranged.” He said simply.

You bit your lip and drew Buggy in close, drawing him in for a deep kiss. Buggy’s eyes fluttered shut as you angled your lips against his, a breathy moan coming from your throat. Buggy ran his tongue against your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth happily, meeting his tongue with yours. You pulled away just enough that you could kiss along his jaw, biting just under his ear.

Buggy hissed quietly, “Whatcha want, pretty boy?” he heard your voice in his ear, felt your teeth on his earrings.

Buggy huffed, “Want my damned body back, Doll.”

You giggled, drawing him back in for another kiss, “And in the meantime?” you mumbled against his lips.

Buggy groaned lowly, nipping at you, “Wanna make you feel good, Doll Face.”

You smiled against him, “How do you want me?” you lilted.

“Naked, preferably.” He chuckled. You threw your head back with a laugh, letting Buggy have his way with your neck for a moment. You moaned out as he found that one little spot before taking him off of you, resting him onto the floor of the crow’s nest. You eyed Buggy carefully, biting your lip before raising your tank top over your head, a new bikini covering your chest. Buggy drank you in, eyes tracking every movement and breath. He watched as you rose to your feet, unbuttoning your shorts, dragging them over your legs. When they were off, you settled back onto your knees in front of him, eyes not leaving his as you reached behind you, untying your bikini top with a simple pull of a string at your back and neck. You held the fabric to your chest for a moment after the ties came loose, a nervous look on your face, “C’mon, beautiful.” Buggy groaned, “Lemme see all of you.” You averted your eyes again as you let the top fall from your grasp and Buggy had to hold back an unabashed moan as he took in your form. You sat high on your knees, reaching a hand on either side of your bikini bottoms, ready to untie those as well. Buggy actively felt his breath be stolen as you slipped the fabric off of you, the lantern’s light flickering over your bare body made you look positively heavenly.

You took Buggy in your hands, slipping his bandana from his head, “Mind if I undo your hair?” you ask quietly. Buggy nodded, “Wanna run my fingers through it.” You whispered, setting Buggy back down between your legs, facing away from you. Buggy felt the heat of your body all around him as you gently raked your fingers through his blue locks, a slight wave from the braid making you smile, “You’re so pretty, Buggy.” You mutter, “Bet you’re pretty all over.” Buggy felt his whole body tense, miles away. You’d be the death of him.

When you finished unraveling his hair, you grabbed him again, taking him to eye level before drawing him in for a chaste kiss, “How do you want me?” you asked again, laying kisses against Buggy’s lips all throughout him speaking.

“Want-mm-want you on-dammit Doll-put-just put me-“ Buggy let out a low groan, “Lay me down and get on top, beautiful.” He muttered, finally catching his breath. You flushed, but complied, resting Buggy down onto the wooded ground, hovering above him on your knees. Buggy’s mouth watered a bit at the sight of your glistening core above him. You looked at the clown’s head between your legs and hummed, reaching a hand down to run your fingers through the soft hair on his head, “Sit.” Buggy groaned.

Your eyes shot wide, “Huh?”

Buggy rolled his eyes, “Sit down.” He said like it was obvious.

You scanned his face for any signs of not wanting this, “Are you sure?”

“Sweetheart, sit down on my damned face before I start trying to jump.” He droned, not even batting an eye.

You sighed, covering your warm face with your free hand, but lowered yourself down onto Buggy’s eager mouth. He got right to work, tongue reaching up to your clit, a sharp gasp coming from your lips, your grip on his hair tightening. Buggy just smiled and continued, lapping away at your core above him, the taste of you making him moan into you. Buggy felt your hips buck forwards a bit, a stifled groan ripping out of you as your clit bumped his nose. Buggy shuffled slightly, moving to where you could run your clit against it every time you moved, quickly pushing his tongue into you, feeling like heaven for you as you moved your hand so you could bite your knuckle.

“God, Buggy.” You whined. Buggy hummed into you, the vibrations making you moan into your hand, “Keep going.” You didn’t have to tell Buggy twice. Frankly, Buggy would be fine to stay down there for as long as you’d let him. He’d stay, clenched between your thighs for hours, he’d die down there, suffocated by you, and he would probably say thank you. He drank in your moans as he ran his tongue along your slick walls, trying to dedicate the sound to memory.

Buggy had an idea. A silly, possibly weird idea. He detached his tongue, diving even deeper into you, a muffled cry of ecstasy above him as he searched around. You whimpered as he found it, and Buggy began simply bullying your g-spot, poking, prodding, licking it like it was his job. You rolled your hips against his face, huffing and puffing above him. “So close, baby.” You muttered, “Kee-keep going, Buggy.” Buggy was a very attentive listener when he wanted to be.

Buggy kept up the pace, craning his neck up a bit to bump against your bundle of nerves on his nose, matching your rocking motions, drawing moan after moan out of you. When he felt your nails dig into his scalp, Buggy grinned, picking up the pace a bit, relishing in your whines.

Suddenly, Buggy felt your thighs clamp around his head, your walls fluttering around his tongue, a delicious gush of your arousal dripping into his mouth. Buggy kept up his ministrations through your orgasm, letting you ride it out. When it subsided, Buggy didn’t let up, trying to draw out another from you.

You whined at the overstimulation, but still rolled your hips over his face, your whole lower body twitching with anticipation. The second orgasm hit you like a truck, and you had to slap your hand over your mouth to silence an absolute scream from ripping out of your throat. Still Buggy didn’t stop, trying for a new record or something, you were sure, his tongue swirling inside you, sending jolts straight to your clit that rubbed deliciously against his round nose with every movement, as soon as your second orgasm subsided, a third sent you reeling, tears falling from your eyes, grip impossibly tight on Buggy’s hair as a silent sob racked through you.

As you came down from your high, you had to rip Buggy’s head away from you, toppling over onto all fours over him. He just grinned, his tongue still detached, soaking in your fucked out expression, mixing up the pattern of his abuse inside you. You whined and rolled onto your side, hands diving between your legs. To try and take it out? To help for number four? You didn’t even know, practically fucked dumb as you clamped your thighs together, your eyes meeting Buggy’s as tears still streamed down your cheeks, you grabbed the clown’s head and drew him into a sloppy kiss, maybe to distract yourself from the overwhelming sensation, his lips eagerly meeting yours as you rapidly drew circles over your clit, drawing out one more, ‘Just one more’, you promised yourself.

You shook as you came, ripping your lips from Buggy’s and throwing your head back, “Please, Buggy.” You begged, reaching another hand down to try and reach into yourself. Buggy gave you a shit eating grin as he watched you practically fuck yourself trying to grab out his elusive tongue. You writhed as you rolled onto your stomach, face down, ass up as you kept reaching two fingers deep inside of you, your arousal dripping all over the floor under you. You whimpered and moaned, number five making you rake your free hand over the wooden floor, “God, Buggy!” you moaned out, “Too much!” your knees spread out under you, a pretty presentation for the clown who watched the whole display, desperately hard wherever his body was.

You ground your hips into your hand as you reached your second hand back down, desperately running your fingers over your clit, your cheek pressing into the ground under you. Buggy watched your frantic movements, the way your tits rocked back and forth with you and God, if he could fall even deeper for you, he did right then. “Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” you whimpered, collapsing as you writhed and practically humped your own hands, fingers still searching for Buggy’s tongue deep inside you. “Buggy.” You moaned out, “one more, then you get out of me.” You whined, frantically circling your hips, your movements jolty as you fucked yourself deeper.

Buggy chuckled at your predicament, in love with watching you unravel for him.

“I mean it.” You hissed, flipping yourself to sit up for Buggy, leaning against the wall of the crow’s nest, a pool of your sweat and arousal forming under you. You looked deep in Buggy’s eyes as you shoved a third finger in, knuckle deep. You moaned pornographically, trying to be quiet, and bucked up your hips again.

Buggy moaned as he watched you reach the hand that was just on your clit up and grasp at your breast, squeezing it and rolling the nipple between your fingers, your eyes fluttering shut. You picked up the pace as Buggy started to somehow find it in him to run his tongue along your walls harder, faster. Biting your lip as your eyes rolled back in your head, your whole body shaking with the force of your orgasm, you gasped out as you squirted out onto the floor, a hopeless sob leaving you as you took your hand out of you, letting both of them rest next to you.

Then and only then did Buggy let his tongue slither out of you, licking a long stripe up your vulva, circling your clit a final time, making you twitch and groan, before opening his mouth and letting it reconnect.

“How’d I do, Doll Face?” Buggy huffed, ears roaring with his rushing blood.

You simply raised up a middle finger at him, a soft chuckle falling from your bruised and swollen lips. Buggy grinned as you picked him back up, laying a peck on his lips, “Holy shit, Buggy.” You huffed. “What the fuck else can you do?”

You ran your fingers gently through Buggy’s hair in your room, humming a little tune. You settled deeper under your covers, eyes drooping with the sway of the waves, settling Buggy more securely against you, the back of his head resting against your breasts comfortably.

“Gave myself the blue balls of a lifetime.” Buggy grumbled, making you bark out a laugh. “Seriously.” He whined.

You shook your head and flicked his ear, “You picked what we did.” You chimed.

“I know. It’s my own fault, but I couldn’t help it. Having you ready and willing all sexy and worked up? Couldn’t resist.” He sighed, “And now I’m suffering because of it.”

You giggled and stroked Buggy’s cheeks with your hands, “Just means I owe you one-“

“-or six.”

“-when you get your body back.” You purred, “Think you can wait that long, Buggy?”

Buggy’s face flushed with heat as he stammered, “Fucking hell, Doll! You’re making it worse!” You just grinned, “I swear, next time I see you, I’m showing you everything I can do when I’m not just a head.” He hissed.

“Looking forward to it, Bugs.”

“At this rate, I’m gonna have to tell Pinocchio to pick up the fuckin pace.” Buggy glowered, yelping as you flicked his ear.

#one piece #strawhats #straw hat pirates #fanfic #reader insert #fem reader #opla #haveatthee83 #buggy d. clown #one piece buggy #buggy #pirate buggy #buggy d. clown x reader #buggy d. clown x you #childhood friends #maneskin #smut #minors dni

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shitsndgiggs · 2 months

Note

i am so sorry seeing that you have no request has made me request two things in probably 15 minutes now 🤭.

i just absolutely love your works way too much. don’t worry if you can’t do this but i would love a fic with arda güler. it’s where the reader is english (like me) and she takes him around for the sights and seeing him happy is wonderful. also arda is so happy seeing his girl being proud of her country and knowing where to go and having knowledge in the sights! tysm ❤️‍🩹✨

LONDON TOWN - ARDA GÜLER

Showing Arda your hometown

Arda Güler x english! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The sun was just beginning to peek through the clouds as I stood outside my flat, eagerly waiting for Arda.

Today was the day I had been planning for weeks, and I couldn't wait to show him around my hometown in England.

The idea of introducing him to the places I loved, sharing my culture and history with him, filled me with excitement.

Our first stop was the iconic Tower of London. As we walked through the historic site, I pointed out various landmarks and shared interesting facts I had learned growing up. Arda listened intently, his curiosity evident.

"This place is incredible," he said, taking in the grandeur of the Tower. "I can't believe how much history is here."

"It's one of my favorite places," I admitted. "There's so much to learn and see."

Next, we headed to the British Museum. As we wandered through the vast halls, filled with artifacts from around the world, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.

Arda was fascinated by everything, asking questions and soaking in the knowledge.

"I love how passionate you are about this," he said, squeezing my hand. "You know so much."

"I just want you to see why I love it here," I replied, feeling a warmth spread through me. "And I'm glad you're enjoying it."

We took a leisurely stroll through Hyde Park, stopping to feed the ducks and enjoy the peaceful surroundings. As we sat on a bench, I pointed out the Serpentine Lake and shared stories from my childhood.

"This place is beautiful," Arda said, his gaze fixed on the shimmering water. "I can see why you love it here."

As the day went on, we visited Buckingham Palace, the Houses of Parliament, and the London Eye.

Each stop brought new stories, new moments of wonder and delight. Seeing Arda so happy, so engaged, made my heart swell with joy.

By the time we reached our final destination, the picturesque streets of Notting Hill, the sun was beginning to set.

We wandered through the colorful streets, stopping to admire the houses and charming shops.

"This has been an amazing day," Arda said, pulling me close. "Thank you for showing me all of this."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," I replied, resting my head on his shoulder. "It means a lot to me that you wanted to see my home."

As we stood there, watching the sun dip below the horizon, I felt a deep sense of contentment.

Arda's happiness, his appreciation for my country and its history, made everything even more special.

#football imagine #football x reader #turkiye #arda güler x reader #arda güler

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posallys · 8 months

Text

all right here is my word vomit live watch

IMMEDIATELY i am slapped in the face by toby stephens as poseidon i am FERAL

THE LUKE AND PERCY PARALLEL “LOOK, YOU DIDN’T WANT TO BE A HALFBLOOD” OH MY FUCKING GOD

THE MISSING LUKE AND PERCY TRAINING SCENES OH DEAR LORD THANK YOU THANK YOU

“When am i ever going to use this” percy i LOVE YOU

“So you can use them against your opponent” OH BOY

Finally some action i love a good sword fight

But where's annabeths necklace imma kill people

Ooh some god strength okay okay tasty

HELL YEAH POSEIDON POWERS FUCK HIS SHIT UPPPPPP

“I WARNED YOU. IF YOU'RE NOT CAREFUL, YOU'LL FIND OUT WHO I AM” OH I LOVE THE ENERGY YESSSS FUCK YEAH

GO OFFF PERCY

“AND YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST A KID”

Ares didn't curse him i hate it here

OH WHAT IS THAT VOICE

OH MY GOD THE CABIN SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

this can go one of two ways

“Violent seismic activity” MMM YUMMY

UH HULLO THIS IS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED ALECTO!???

I lied there was a secret 3rd way this could have gone and it happened

OOP THERE’S THE NECKLACE

“Where's the glory in that” wow tell me you don't understand Percy's character without telling me you don't understand Percy's character

“I don't have an appointment” THATS SO FUCKING ICONIC OF HIM

Wait i kind of fuck with this olympus i was picture all white and pristine but this FUCKS

“SHOULDN'T THEY BE JUST AS AFRAID OF US AS WE ARE OF THEM” OH MY FUCKING GOD. OH MY GOD. HOLY SHIT

“you're learning fast” OH MY GODDDDDDDDD

“Things that are small and scary….” BROOOOOOOOOOOO

the show has rights for the luke and percy content and posally and percabeth and that's IT

LANCE REDDICK ❤️❤️❤️ greatest of all time rest in peace ❤️ (you'll always be Cedric daniels to me)

Ohhh king he does a bad ass zeus

Where's poseidon though DONT TAKE HIM FROM ME 😭😭😭

Lance ily

Lance reddick zeus you're perfect to ME

OHHHHH YES GOOD SHIT

percy jackson king of audacity

AGHHHHHJJJDHH POSEIDON I LOVE YOU BRIAN BROMEN OH FUCK YES IM. SNKDKKWKWJFKMQ3LI4HRND IM VIBRATING NRJNW OHMYGID

IM THROWING UP OH MY GOD

“I SURRENDER” OH BROTHER DO I HAVE THOUGHTS THOUGHTS TOO MANY THOUGHTS FUCKKKKK

OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDD IM GOING TO PUKE

TOBY STEPHENS LOVE OF MY LIFE

I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE UNWELL IN MY ENTIRE LIFE

SHUT UP NOBODY TOUCH ME

“OBEDIENCE DOESNT COME NATURALLY TO YOU DOES IT” ohhhhhhhh brother call me an ambulance

“I must take some of the blame i suppose” so you CAN read the books you just chose not to for the other 7 episodes….

THE SEA DOES NOT LIKE TO BE RESTRAINED FUCK YEAHHHHHB BROTHER

HIM ONLY UNDERSTANDING THE WORD FATHER IM GOING TO KILL MYSELF IM SOBBING

POSEIDON SMILE IM DYING

I DIDN'T LEARN IT FROM CHIRON AND THEN POSEIDONS FACE OH FUCK IM PUKING SHAKING CRYING

IM SO SO SO UNWELL IM LITERALLY INCOHERENT

“Ares is a moron, as you noticed” STOP I LOVE HIM THERES THAT ASSHAT POSEIDON ENERGY IM LOOKING FOR

“of course we dream, why do you ask” “DO YOU EVER DREAM ABOUT MOM” I AM DEAD I DIED I ASCENDED IM FLOATING LEVITATING FLYING OH DEAR LORD OH MY GOD IM SO SO SO ILL

TOBY STEPHENS THE MAN THAT YOU ARE POSEIDON THE MAN THAT YOU ARE OH MY GOD HIM GOLDING PERCYS HEA DIM VIMITING SHITING MYSELF KILLING DYING DEAD DJFICJJWOKDKDJN FUCK ME FUCK FICK

TOBY TOBY TOBY YOURE PERFECTVTHE PAIN THE FACIAL EXPTESSUINNS IM DYING DEAD

THE PEARL KILL KILL KJAJDJWKKDJJDJDUEJJ2NH3H

I AM HYPERVENTILATING

Not to be greedy BUT WHERE IS THE QUEEN AMING WOMEN WHERE THE FUCK WAS IT YOU CANNOT GIVE ME ALL OF THAT AND THEN NOT GIVE ME THE MOST FUCKING ICONIC LINE OF ALL TIME WHAT THE ACTUAL ABSOLUTE FUCK I AM GOING THROUGH SO MANY EMOTIONS WHATBTHEFUCK

there's still 20 minutes left taylor breathe it can still happen

PERCABETH HUG MY RELIGION

annabeth luke percy trio is SOOOOO interesting to me

I hate percy knowing :( ur a bit too perceptive buddy but it's okay

“I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D GIVE THEM TO GROVER TO WEAR” SHOOT ME IT WOULD PROBABLY FEEL ABOUT THE SAME

THE GODS ARE MY ENEMY, YOU IM HERE TO RECRUIT OHHHHH BROTHER

OH HELLO BACKBITER LORE OKAY

LUKE I GET YOU I UNDERSTAND

I MET YOUR DAD *SLASH* OH THEY GOT HIM THEY GOT HIM GOOD

LUKE PERCY FIGHT MY EYES HAVE BEEN BLESSED IN THIS DAY

PERCY APOLOGIZING HONEY UR TOO SWEET

ANNABETH OH FUCK OH HELLO

So tell me what are the plans for ttc now lol

I HEARD EVERYTHING ANNABETH HONEY COME HERE I NEED TO HUG YOU

I must ask….where the FUCK was this energy the rest of the season this episode is literally so insane it almost makes up for the rest of everything

“How does she feel abt all of this” ooh yummy i like the foreshadowing

“I imagine she's thrilled” WRONG thalia would stomp freddy chases head in if given the chance

LEAH UR BRAIDS ARE GORGEOUS

stop percy had HEART EYES 24/7 FOR HER IM GOING TO COMBUST

“JUST BE A KID” IM SOBBING

THE SEARCHERS LICENSE IM CRYING SOBBING UR PERFECT GROVER

“I'LL FIND YOU” FORESHADDDDDDDOWWWINGGGGGGGG

“NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS WE MEET BACK HERE NEXT YEAR”, OH I LOVE THEM IM CRYING SOBBING OH MY BABIES

MONTAUK IM GOING TO KILL MYSELF FUCK DUDE U CANT DO THIS

i want poseidon to be there i know he wont be but i NEED it

Stop honey percy ilyyyyy you're such a sweetheart im kissing ur forehead and tucking u in

OH HELLO “IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP” WOOOOAHHHHHHHH OKAY

“WE'RE STILL DOING THIS” LMFAOOOOO

“TURNS OUT IM PRETTY GOOD AT THIS….COME FIND ME” CRAZY

……MOTHERFUCKER if they dont show gabe dying im gonna riot

WHERE WAS THE REST OF MY POSALLY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 YOU CAN'T GIVE ME SOME AND THEN TAKE AWAY THE LITTLE FROM THE BOOKS

WHERE IS SALLY MURDERING GABE HELLO

AHHH END SCENE LOL AH THE BOX

THE IMPLICATION THAT IT WAS ALL POSEIDON……..WHAT IF I DIE OH MY GOD

#please ask me things #pjo tv #percy jackson

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blond-jerk-tourney · 11 months

Text

Strawberry Bracket: Round 2, Poll 5

Propaganda from submitters Under Cut

Dio Brando

A certified BITCH. You could use any adjective of that little list of yours on him and be correct

I know you said more jerks and not villains but like. He's like one of the og blonde assholes. He's just an absolute prick.

Kicked a dog for no fucking reason and then became an immortal vampire guy, killed his brother and then spent 200 years in a coffin in the depths of the ocean. Was eventually rescued. Didn’t change at all. Rest in peace Danny. Never forget never forgive

He's such a diva. He's terrible from episode one. He burns the protag's dog and tries to poison his father to get money. You think that's bad enough? It gets worse. He turns himself willingly into a vampire to be even more of a problem. From there, he lounges mysteriously in the dark and makes his minions attack one family over and over for GENERATIONS. He's literally the villain and the drama of every part. And even after he's defeated? His LEG BONE and a priest who was very gay for his blonde jerk self keep causing issues. Most mean girl ever. What an icon. He's also canonically bi

Char Aznable

He's extremely blonde and he's a total asshole. he has had a gay thing with 2 people and tried to kill both of them. he makes a new identity and its arguably more blonde and more of an asshole. look up Quattro Bajeena

Snooty little motherfucker supreme. "I have never betrayed anyone in my life" says man who spent his whole career lying to people. He's in love with his rival and he won't admit it. He's my silly rabbit. He is the "I came here to laugh at you" guy

#strawberry bracket #strawberry bracket round 2 #polls #tournament polls #dio brando #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #char aznable #quattro bajeena #mobile suit gundam #gundam #blond jerk tournament

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stomach-bugg09 · 2 years

Note

hihi maybe a fic where reader is just an absolute menace and badass like her mother neytiri!! everyone in the clan is prob trying to become mates with her but she doesnt like it at all

summary: [y/n] sully was independent, strong, scary, clearly the daughter of neytiri. but, her impeccable game constantly reminds everyone who her father was.

a/n: two in one day ?? what ?? crazy. anyway, hopefully you enjoy. she’s kinda a cutie in this, like okay yes go boss. also i cannot stop making random original characters that are not at all canon to atwow, but you know what, it is what it is. feedback, reblogs, and reqs are always appreciated !!

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @wxnderingthoughts @ellielovesrobinarellano ( check out my tag guide !! )

warnings: [y/n] being a boss, sully siblings are so cute and supportive, some annoying boy attitude, guys being kinda creepy and obsessive, [y/n]’s undeniable and accidental rizz, non-consensual touch ( like a touch on the arm, but still aggravating )

2.5k words

independence

GIF by world-of-pandora

if there was one thing about [y/n] sully, it was that she was her mother’s daughter. any na’vi that knew the two of them could tell you this. from her skills on the battlefield to her independence, it was clear to all that neytiri had raised her eldest daughter in a way that she had no need to depend on anyone other than herself, as every young female should.

as a result, [y/n] sully stood among some of the strongest warriors in her age group. there was a good amount of na’vi—a solid six—her age that provided hope for the future. when it came their time to protect the clan, jake and neytiri lived in a little bit more peace knowing that the omaticaya would be safe in their hands

it was one of those days, with the core six, in which [y/n] spent her afternoon scouting. they’d split into two groups a few minutes prior, deciding to cover ground much quicker while separated.

“hey, [y/n]!” ole’ey called from behind, her friend’s voice becoming apparent directly in [y/n]’s ear thanks to the intercom necklaces they wore ( although, they were only allowed to wear them while on patrol. )

“hm?” [y/n] hummed, her peripheral vision picking up an image of ole’ey, a smirk resting on her face.

“has kllalu asked you out yet?”

on the other side of her, [y/n] heard her other friend, meyio, guffaw, losing his mind over the situation. “kllalu?” he screamed, not even bothering to go through comms because of how loud he was.

immediately, [y/n] dropped her face into her hands. “are you kidding?”

“so, i’m going to take that as a no.”

the sully daughter collapsed on her ikran, laying stomach down as she leaned the top-half of her weight against the creature’s neck. “i hate my life.”

“oh, please!” meyio teased. “you just have an impeccable amount of game. it’s natural!”

“it comes from your father’s side,” ole’ey added, not missing a beat, sending meyio once again as he screamed in laughter.

[y/n] cringed, hitting her forehead against her ikran. “that is disgusting. do not ever say that again. like, ever.”

“it’s just the plain truth!”

the three of them, [y/n], meyio, and ole’ey, were, if anything, an iconic trio. ever since [y/n] started training with other children around the clan, the three immediately drifted towards each other. after five long years later, neytiri and jake were practically their second pair of parents.

as a result of their friendship, all three of them improved their skills together, spending their time sparring with each other. they still often reminded each other of the day that meyio said something offensive—probably having to do with the other two being girls—and as a result, ole’ey and [y/n] absolutely annihilated him the next day at training. it even got the point in which the two young girls were reprimanded by jake ( although, neytiri was absolutely losing it when he came home and told his mate the story. )

but, no matter how often the two girls practiced their fighting skills by beating up meyio, they were all the best of friends. so, that meant immense teasing.

“i do not care what the plain truth is—you do not say that about somebody’s father to his daughter.” [y/n] was exasperated. not only did she have to deal with yet another male trying to convince her that they were ‘made for each other,’ but now she couldn’t get the thought of her father’s charm out of her head.

“okay, moving on from the epitome of hot dads,” meyio interrupted, causing a cry of anguish to leave [y/n]’s throat as she slammed her head against her ikran again, “what do you think kllalu is gonna say?”

as [y/n] attempted to ignore her friends, the fake deep voice of ole’ey kept her more than engaged in the moment. “‘oh, [y/n]. you’re like, as pretty as the stars or whatever. but, you know what’d be prettier? our future kids.’”

“ew!” she groaned, her hands going to her temples as to keep herself from jumping off of her ikran and strangling her friends.

“oh, that’s good,” meyio complimented, to which ole’ey sent a mock bow. “how about… ‘[y/n], i visited the spirit tree last night. i think, now i could be wrong, but… i think i saw us. together.’”

“now that’s just foul.” [y/n] argued. “using eywa’s visions as a way to bag me? he wouldn’t.”

meyio raised his hands defensively. “if you say so… but, i wouldn’t put it past him.”

“you two are unbelievable. this is like, my worst nightmare, and you’re making a joke out of it! some friends you are,” she grumbled.

“i’m sorry, [y/n],” ole’ey trailed, the smile in her voice apparent. “it’s not that we’re laughing about you having a problem.”

“yeah!” meyio added. “we’re laughing about this being the eight-hundreth time having the same exact problem.”

[y/n] groaned. “i know.” she shook her head, gazing at the forest below them. “why do they all keep trying. i have rejected every single one of them—why do they think that they’re different?”

meyio whistled at that. “what can i say, men love a good chase.”

she rolled her eyes. “i am not a chase, i am… i don’t even know! but i am definitely not a chase.”

“yes, you are not a chase because you don’t let them chase. i have never seen you give any one of them a chance!” ole’ey laughed. she wasn’t scrutinizing, and [y/n] knew that, she was just stating the truth. and still, it was a hard truth to swallow.

[y/n] had never been an easy friend. she grew up as the daughter of the toruk makto, and that meant that not only did her parents expect a lot from her, but so did everyone else in the clan. those were the words that motivated her to become such an amazing warrior—that, and the fact that she always wished to be like her mother.

she never really questioned it ever since her young mind decided who she was going to be. no, because she set a goal, and she would do whatever it took to accomplish that goal. and now, she’d finally reached it. who is she to become now?

she’d never learned to make friends—to even be friendly—she only wound up with meyio and ole’ey because she was lucky. she was, in all honesty, terrified of finding even a potential mate, because that meant she had to acknowledge that she was moving on into the future without even the slightest plan. all she wanted to do, for once in her life, was to enjoy living as a teenage na’vi.

later that afternoon, [y/n], meyio, and ole’ey sat in the clearing, alongside all four of the other sully siblings. after their morning of patrol, the trio was considerably tired, but that did not stop meyio and [y/n] from tackling each other.

all around the pair circled the rest of the kids, egging on the fight. it was, of course, a simple spar, and was something that they considered very normal in their routine.

“meyio, i swear to eywa if you lose, i am going to murder you!” lo’ak yelled from the sidelines, a threat that was motivated after he and ole’ey made bets on who would win.

“just keep doing what you’re doing, bud,” ole’ey added with a smirk, causing kiri to burst into laughter.

tuk was sat atop neteyam’s shoulders, allowing for a better view of their scrap. “meyio is kind of bad,” she mumbled, a comment that had her oldest brother wheezing for breath.

[y/n] was, by far, dominating. as she always did. at that point, after knowing her for five years, meyio had only a thirty-two percent win rate, so he was never shocked when the fight ended with him crying, “mercy!”

this fight, however, went a little different.

because as [y/n] triumphantly sat on his back, her hands pushing his face down into the mud as she teased, “you did this to yourself!” all of her confidence flew down the drain the moment she saw a familiar male in the distance.

immediately, the girl stopped, and with the lack of pressure against his neck, meyio flipped her over. [y/n] sputtered for breath, her lungs heaving after the wind was knocked out of her.

“hah!” meyio triumphed, only stopping when he noticed the look on her face. “[y/n]?”

“oh, come one!” lo’ak groaned. “meyio, finish the fight so i don’t lose any more money on you than i already have!”

when meyio ignored lo’ak’s comment, everyone grew curious. each other them took a step forward, peeking at the expression on [y/n]’s face.

based on her wide eyes that stared in the distance, kiri decided to follow her gaze. when she caught sight of kllalu, she bust into laughter. “are you scared of little-old kllalu? the one who we used to call ‘stick?’”

ole’ey sputtered a laugh. “why’d you call him ‘stick’”

“he stabbed himself with a stick and wouldn’t stop crying.”

the girl gasped. “oh my eywa, i remember that!”

meanwhile, meyio mumbled, “that is the dumbest nickname.”

ignoring the teasing comments, neteyam took tuk off of his shoulders, placing her on the ground before he walked closer to his sister. “what’d kllalu do?”

“nothing!” she cried. “that’s the problem!”

lo’ak looked unimpressed at her answer. “now, what is that supposed to mean? we are not mind readers, despite norm’s book of theories.”

“uh correction,” kiri pointed out. “norm’s theory is that the plants were mind readers.”

“guys!” tuk whined. “[y/n]’s upset.”

“right!” meyio called, a smirk pulling onto his face. “she’s upset because kllalu is planning to ask her out.”

both sully boys groaned at that information. “another one?” lo’ak asked, exasperated.

[y/n] lifted herself off of the ground, attempting to brush off as much dirt as she could. “i’m as unhappy about it as you are! this is like, the millionth rejection i’ve ever had to do!”

“will they ever catch on?” neteyam groaned, holding his head in his hands.

“that’s what i’m wondering!” [y/n] cried, staring up at the sky with an unamused look on her face.

“i’m telling you,” meyio yelled. “they love the chase.”

all at once, every single sully sibling responded with, “there is no chase!”

silence followed soon after, leaving meyio blinking absentmindedly at them. “okay,” he said, smacking his lips. “noted!”

“au,” [y/n] cried, shaking her head. “he is nearly here.”

“okay,” tuk yelled. “everyone be quiet and stare at him so we scare him away.” her idea had everyone but [y/n] shouting words of agreement.

immediately, [y/n] shook her head. “no—no!” she sighed. “look, i need to do this myself. just… act normal. i don’t know! i’m just gonna say what finally needs to be said.”

“and what is that?” kiri asked, eyebrows raised.

but, before she could answer, kllalu stepped into a radius that was far too close to answer without him hearing. so, as the remind them of their job, [y/n] sent one last look at the group of kids. quiet.

“[y/n]!” the boy greeted, a smirk placed on his lips. immediately, all six of the kids behind [y/n] were set off with annoyance.

she nodded her head. “kllalu.” [y/n]’s tone was dry, already setting the mood for an awkward conversation.

“how are you?” he attempted, stopping in front of her.

“i am doing great.”

he nodded slowly. “nice!” this was an extremely painful experience for everyone that was watching.

when she left the conversation hanging, kllalu cleared his throat. “so,” he continued slowly. “i was wondering if i could speak with you?”

she cocked her head ever-so-slightly. “you are speaking now, no?”

“uh,” he swallowed. “i was thinking, like… alone?”

immediately she shook her head. “i’d rather not leave my siblings.” she blinked. “and ole’ey and meyio.” behind her, the six of them waved cheerfully, leaving kllalu dumbstruck. “whatever you must say, you are fully capable of saying in front of them.”

“right!” he nodded. “yeah, no, i totally get it.” kllalu looked at the ground, stretching his arm to scratch the back of his neck. silence returned.

“you were going to say something, kllalu?”

he nodded. “uh, yeah.” her patience was thinning by the second. “i was just, uh, thinking. because, um, last night i visited the spirit tree—”

“no, kllalu.” ( behind [y/n], meyio was silently pointing and laughing at ole’ey since he guessed correctly. )

he blinked. “no? you don’t even know what i was going to say.”

she stared at him with a look. really? “i am not dumb.”

“but, why? i mean, i know you’ve rejected every single guy who has attempted, but why? why all of them?” he shook his head in disbelief. “how do you know i am not the right one?” as soon as kllalu’s hand grabbed her bicep, the entire group of six behind them burst.

“what do you think you’re doing?” neteyam growled, pushing himself off of the ground.

lo’ak was quick behind him. “she said no, dumbass.”

“do you need help understanding?” kiri took a step towards them.

with a huff, [y/n] held a hand up to her siblings and friends. once they’d frozen in place, she then grabbed his wrist tightly, ripping it off of her. “are you daft?”

“wha—no!”

“i will repeat it to you in words that your small brain can understand, and if you could do me a wonderful favor and tell every male that wants to ask me out, i would greatly appreciate it.” she stepped towards him, teeth bared. “i am in no need of a male’s help, nor his love. i am not a challenge, i am not a game to see whether or not you will be the one to convince me, i am not something to chase. you and all the other dumb males will stop asking me, because it is becoming offensive.” she bit her bottom lip, a mocking smile appearing on her lips. “i have made it this far independently. i will not let that go by having a male choose me as his mate. when the time comes, i will choose. do you understand?”

he nodded.

she raised her eyebrows. “do you understand?”

“yes.”

“good.” she stepped back, feeling the safety of her friends and family. “now, please go away. you have ruined a perfectly fine afternoon.”

as they watched him stumble away, [y/n] felt not only her own pride swell in her heart, but the pride of her friends and siblings. sure, they knew [y/n] sully was strong, scary, all the good stuff, but it was always refreshing to watch it come out.

it always reminded them of why the adults of the clan were not at all worried for the omaticayans future. there was nothing to worry about when warriors like [y/n] existed.

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