#so he wasted 15 minutes of both our time trying to find a reason to ticket me but all my shits up to date

[jacqcrisis]

- only gets 5 hours of sleep last night

- it's raining

- gets pulled over for genuinely no fucking reason by the most tryhard baby cop in the world

- first customer of the day is belligerently drunk making vague threats and aggressive innuendos to anyone femme

Alright. Great start to the day. What else can fucking happen???

[yippeecahier]

AITA for insisting on my husband moving his stuff?

This is the kind of thing I'd put on Reddit but with all thats going on, I'm sticking to Tumblr. So I (25 NB) got married to my husband (25 M) on June 24th this year and havent even been married a whole month. We'd talked about boundaries and communication and have had multiple sessions with a premarital and now marital counselor since we got engaged in March. Before that, we dated for 2 years and have known each other and been friends off and on since the 6th grade.

When it comes to boundaries, we have two that are pretty much unshakeable: I need consistent 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the dark (with either white noise or relative silence) and going to bed before midnight, and my husband needs alone time to play games for a few hours a day where no one will walk in (he has scopophobia from childhood trauma where his parents and siblings would barge in and even remove the door and fistfight him so now he interprets pairs of eyes as threats and wont use the university library for this reason; I wish I was joking, but I'm not, and my MIL confirmed this is true because she had my husband as an unstable teen and did, in fact, fist fight him in her 20s). I always thought these were both reasonable boundaries and could be worked with given compromise, but this is somehow more contentious than I thought.

I'm currently living in his 1 bed, 1 bath apartment. I was living out of my suitcase up to and a week after our wedding until our counselor told him he had to make space for me; much to his chagrin, I invited my mom over to help me because I was so overwhelmed by all the boxes from wedding gifts and overwhelmed from the wedding (which is why we didn't leave on a honeymoon right away). Our counselor, and now my parents (who are medical professionals), and two of our friends, say he needs to move his computer out of the bedroom.

I have autism, IBS, and a history of mental illnesses. He will lock the door to the bedroom that contains the only bathroom for hours at a time and take a long time to respond to texts. I will not be able to sleep in the bedroom or use the toilet for long periods of time. I'm exhausted and overwhelming from having to walk to the local stores to use the bathroom, and none of them are 24 hours so after 11pm I'm exhausted and having a really bad time. I live in the downtown area of a big city with him, so I cannot simply find a bush to pee/poo in. On one very humiliating occasion I used an empty food container to eliminate, and threw my waste in the trash because he wouldn't respond to his phone or unlock the door despite my panicked banging.

The stress of it, and being deprived of sleep past 1am every night only to be woken up by our neighbors at 9am is making my IBS worse and has triggered multiple meltdowns and psych episodes the likes of which I haven't seen for >2 years (including trying to walk to the train tracks to kms to escape the hell my brain was putting me through because I wasnt giving it the sleep it needs).

On one particularly bad incident, I was tired and took a nap in the morning after having a meltdown over seeing a dead cockroach in the kitchen during breakfast when my husband set multiple blaring alarms at 5am because he is a deep sleeper even though we went to bed at 2am (I did blow the situation out of proportion, but I was also sleep deprived and actively psychotic as a result). When my husband came back, he came in guns blazing and pulled me out of bed demanding to see the roaches, and expressed frustration that I went back to bed when I was freaking out about the roach over the phone some 15 minutes prior. We got in an argument about if we need to put in a request for pest control, and at one point, I yelled, "FINE, YOU’RE RIGHT AND I'M WRONG," and put my hands on his throat because I got triggered into an episode. I was shaking and asked to leave the conversation multiple times before it got to that point, but he wouldn't let me leave the kitchen - and pulled me back by my arm - until I'd heard a piece of his mind; that combined with waking up suddenly in the middle of my nap to an angry spouse after another successive night of sleep deprivation caused me to become violent whereas I'd never been violent to others in any episode before.

I regret it and apologized fervently and am trying everything I can to prevent that from happening again. I am not a typically violent person, and previous psychotic episodes only resulted in self-harm, not putting my hands on others. However, him not getting with the program I need to stay sane isn't helping. I started screaming and hitting myself during this last meltdown today over coming to a locked bathroom/bedroom door for the 3rd time after being out of the house for him to play games for 6 hours despite having another stress induced IBS episode, and immediately got back in my car to drive to my parent's house without any of my stuff.

I was deprived of sleep for the 3rd night in a row because I'm doing all the housework so he can have his games alone. His gaming computer is in the bedroom, which is locked, and he refuses to listen to requests to move the computer out of the bedroom or unlock the door because of his scopophobia. I can technically sleep on the futon, but I cannot brush my teeth or go to the bathroom because the bathroom is in the bedroom, and sleeping on the futon is interrupted because he refuses to sleep alone and will come out of the bedroom, wake me, and take me to bed with him at 3am.

Yesterday he got crabby because he "didn't get a break," and I told him I felt "hurt because it sounds to me like [he was] not grateful for the two hours I spent cleaning the apartment and dishes" the latter of which is his job, "to give [him] 2 hours to play games," to which he responded that he needs "at least 4 hours," "with the door closed and locked," and "complete silence," and my housework is "too noisy." This does not make sense to me because he cannot hear his phone notifications when I call or text to use the bathroom, and he is playing music. Moreover, knowing that the vacuum cleaner sets us both off, my parents gifted me a Roomba for cleaning that is much quieter, but he won't help to set it up.

He keeps suggesting compromises with my mom, our friends, and our marital counselor. None of them have worked, and none of them he has kept up.

1) My mom offered to buy him an L-shaped desk for him when she comes over next, but now he refuses to have her come over and doesn't want to spend money on an L-shaped desk. He also wants to use the L-shaped desk for everything BUT the tower.

2) We bought an IKEA desk for $10 at Goodwill and got cables for him to move his keyboard, screen, and mouse out of the room, but he refuses to move the tower (which has RGB that won't turn off while he's using it) out of the bedroom. Then, the door will not completely close because of all the cables running through it and I hear his music, games, and keyboard. His reason for not moving the tower? His dad (my FIL) cut the ethernet cable to the exact length for it to be in the bedroom and my husband wants to be able to lock the door to the bedroom and bathroom during the day (which he can stay there and play games all day, but don't lock the door to the only bathroom, I have literal IBS that will NOT wait. I already soiled a pair of shorts.)

3. My friend stayed with us for a bit while in transitory housing, which is how he justified locking the door (to masturbate without being walked in on). But even after our friend showed him how to turn on notifications from favorite contacts when he puts his phone on Do Not Disturb, he still silences his phone and locks the door.

4. We negotiated together with the marital counselor a possible compromise where I "own" the bedroom for 12 hours at night and he "owns" the bedroom for 12 hours during the day so that he can play games during the day at noon instead of at, say, 2am. He suggested implementing this the week after our wedding. It didn't happen, I brought it up with the counselor. He says it's because he's "on vacation" but we'll implement come July. It's a week into July and it still hasn't happened. I told him I need a functioning sleep schedule for my job two weeks BEFORE I start or I'll have a psych episode at work and get fired, and he agreed, and I still came home to a locked bedroom/bathroom door TODAY.

5) We talked about getting a two bedroom condo that's a walking distance from his university. His assets plus my salary (I'm the breadwinner right now while he's in college but he was in the military and has $40k in savings and $50k in stocks), and we qualify for up to $400k on our mortgage. He refuses to close on the 2 bedroom/2 bathroom condo I requested that's a 5 minute walk from his classes because it's "too expensive" at $375k, and he insists on a 2 bedroom/1 bathroom place for $315k that's a 15 minute walk from his campus. Even though I told him my IBS requires I have access to a bathroom at all times, he still will spend over an hour on the toilet watching YouTube even if he's not "sequestering" to play games. I won't hear a peep from him about sharing a bathroom to save $60k unless he changes his behavior. This also is the driving force behind why I want to try to move into a two bedroom condo ASAP, even though our lease ends in mid-November. He refuses because he doesn't want to pay rent for the apartment while we have a mortgage OR sublease/AirBnB it OR break the lease. I have argued with support from our realtor, mortgage broker, and my parents, that now is the time to find and close on a home because it's a several months long process, especially since we're using VA loans.

Moreover, his ass has the audacity to repeatedly twist my arm about having a baby. When we first got married, I said, "Sure, we can have kids; but first I have to find a way to be mentally stable without medications for a year straight while living with you before I can carry a viable pregnancy. I've been stable and unmedicated before, but that stability requires consistent sleep, a regular and highly regimented schedule, and consistent vigorous exercise to work." We're nowhere near that, (I fucking put my hands on him during an episode and even my OBGYN said given my medical history its not a question of if I'll get postpartum depression but when,) and he keeps asking me to schedule an appointment to change my birth control to something other than an IUD.

I'm an adult, I can leave my husband alone for 4 hours in complete silence with some effort and some frustration, but A BABY fucking won't, because it can't. It needs your attention every 2 hours to eat or poop or what have you. His kid cannot find something else to do like I can to leave him in silence most of the day unless they're in school (by age 5 and only during the schoolyear) or can drive (by age 16), but definitely not all night at any point between their birth and them moving out (given current economic trends, this wont be economically feasible until our kid is 30). Plus, the kid would occupy our 2nd bedroom in the condo and then I'd have to figure out how to get sleep in my husband's room and (share a bathroom if we go with his insisitence on a 1 bathroom cheaper condo) despite my IBS with TWO human beings, when sharing with one is hard enough.

We agreed to getting me a service animal from a program in Canada I'd been on the waiting list for since 2019, and the animal is available for me to take home this summer. I am going to Canada by myself because my husband doesn't have a passport, but we're meeting in New York to drive home together in a rental car with the animal. My parents understandably think this is an additional stressor since now I'm taking care of not only me and my husband, but also an animal. But I need something to step in and perform tasks to mitigate/alert to psych episodes.

Today he hugged me and told me he loved me and was so glad he "married [me]" because I "enhance [his] life every moment," but it feels like lip service when he won't move the computer or implement any of the possible solutions we came up with above. I wish I could say the same. I feel like my life is actually worse since I moved in. I'm contemplating quitting the new job, going back to my old one, and living with my parents until he can get his shit together enough that I can actually sleep and use the bathroom like a normal person.

I can't live with him like this, or one of us will get very badly hurt. I start work in two weeks, and need to be at work by 7am every day, so I cannot be stable enoigh to keep a job if I'm having psych episodes because I'm going to bed after midnight whenever he's feeling kind enough to remember me and unlock the bedroom door. I need two weeks to reset my sleep schedule. He says he understands after I scared him when I put my hands on him, and after each and every sleep-deprivation induced meltdown, but I feel like he really doesn't because none of his behavior has changed.

You are welcome to reblog to give an in-depth response if it doesn't fit in replies or DM me if you want it to be private. I'm desperate for help. He's not a bad guy. Everyone says that it's very apparent he loves me. He's my best friend, and I love him, but my health, sanity, and, in turn, our marriage are at stake if this doesn't get solved and soon.

[nicohickman]

5 Reasons Why You Should Utilizing Timers to Improve Productivity

There are 32 15-minute increments within an average eight-hour workday.

It's not typical to consider in terms of how many micro-blocks are there. However this framework could make a a huge difference in how you conduct things.

Many ways, setting up a big timer for tracking these increments , can greatly improve productivity.

There are a bevy of reasons to incorporate a timer into your productivity routine - plus they can look chic on your desk , too.

1. Timers limit distractions

It is possible that you have heard that the human brain being is not designed to multitask. That's actually true! And it's probably why it feels like you end up losing so much time while you're trying to divide your attention between a bunch of things.

"Every when you shift your focus from one area to another and back again, there's cost. The switching causes an effect psychologists refer to as attention residue, which can decrease your cognitive capabilities for a considerable amount of time before it clears," says Cal Newport, author of Digital Minimalism, in an interview with the New York Times. "If you are constantly making 'quick scans' of different devices and email inboxes, you essentially keep yourself in a state of persistent focus residue, which is a terrible option if you're someone who relies on your brain to earn a living."

Instead, focus on only one small task at a time instead of batching them all in one go. Instead of wasting an hour working on administrative tasks which will end up being longer than it is because you need to shift between tasks more frequently, it may be more efficient to take 15 minutes for email responses, 15 minutes for filing papers, 15 minutes for organizing your computer, and then 15 minutes for your timesheet.

At the end of the day, you won't be bouncing around, distracting yourself with other tasks or between tasks. All other things can wait for 15 minutes.

2. Cooking timers motivate prioritization

Time management can be difficult since you're not always aware of the amount of time you have available. How often do you think you know how long it takes to finish the task? These types of estimations are quite common in humans.

Timers can be a fantastic method to become more aware of your working routine and to keep you in the right direction. Both are vital to maximizing productivity.

You'll gain insight into the task at hand by setting a timer and you can work uninterrupted throughout the duration. This will provide you with greater insight into the future.

3. Timers can help you get started

Sometimes starting is the most challenging part of finding your motivation to complete a task, but challenging yourself to put in just five or fifteen minutes may aid.

What's fifteen minutes in the scheme of things? And once you've completed the task, you're already on the right track and can keep rolling.

Setting the number timer countdown is a call to you to work for at least that long, and it's often the small pieces of time that add up. It's going to be a surprise how productive you can be by spending less time doing things that don't take up a large portion of your time.

4. Cooking timers deal with perfectionism

Even for the most committed individuals, a timer can make a huge difference to productivity. A timer is a great tool to help you move on with your day, not focusing on one thing you should have done better.

A timer is an excellent tool that can help you get your important emails done in a short period of time.

It's easy to get caught up in the simplest chores. There's only so much we control in our work day but sometimes it's better to take on the "done is better than perfect" model.

5. Timers assist you in focusing your attention

Psychologists who work in the field of organizational psychology Adam Grant says that even though productivity is his expertise however, he isn't always very productive. Grant doesn't have difficulties accomplishing his tasks. In fact, it's because productivity is more focused on managing your attention rather and time.

"Productivity isn't a virtue. It's a tool to achieve attain a goal. It's only virtuous if the end is worthy. If your aim is to achieve productivity then you must be able to rely on your determination to get a task done," he writes. "If you are aware of why you're excited about the project and the people who will benefit from it, you'll be naturally drawn to it by intrinsic motivation."

If you're looking to improve your ability to concentrate your focus, take into consideration when you're more productive, how long it takes, and what's stopping you from achieving your goals. Being mindful about these factors is just as crucial for productivity. If you are aware of when you can block out the distractions and how long you'll need, you'll be a lot more productive.

A timer is a great tool to help you concentrate your focus on the essential tasks and reduce distractions.

[ahtsumu]

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu​! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings’ and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving. 

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Long Way From Home Part 2

Summary: You and Natasha are left with the realization of what your future holds. 

Genre: Fluff

Request: Yes / No

Word Count: 2,408

* * * * * *

You weren’t entirely sure what to expect after Katya’s return home. Hope led you to believe that the situation would draw yourself and Natasha closer. But realism made you understand that if/when that ever happens, it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

Natasha was even more shocked than you were to find out that Katya was her daughter from the future. That shock went even deeper when she realized that Katya’s other parent was you.

Maybe it was that realization that pushed her to stay away from you. And you didn’t want to further push her away by being overbearing.

So for the first few days, you’d given her all the space she needed. You resolved to not speak to her unless she spoke first, you made sure she knew you were there whenever she was ready but didn’t become annoying about it.

But days turned to weeks and she hadn’t said or done anything. With the knowledge of what the future held in your head, coupled with the feelings you already had towards Natasha, you decided to take a different approach.

Switching some things around on your personal and work schedule, you made it so that the two of you spent more time together: working out and training, going on missions, having breakfast together whenever she was actually hungry. Hell you even volunteered to do public appearances with her and everyone knows how much you hate those. 

It was all in an attempt to get the woman you cared so deeply for to at least speak to you.

Luckily, it worked. Whatever the case may have been, her noticing the effort you were putting into being there for her or her getting annoyed with how persistent you are, she started to strike up little conversations when you were together. 

None of the topics ever held much weight but they seemed to make you both happier, helped lift that tension between you two. 

In a few weeks you two grew closer, as you’d hoped, occasionally throwing the term friend around which definitely grabbed the attention of your teammates, especially those who knew exactly how you felt about the redhead. 

While neither of you brought up Katya or what her presence meant, both of you thought about it a lot. With good reason. 

Having learned what you did from Banner during the “Time Heist”, you know that it’s possible that in this particular timeline you and Natasha don’t get together, or maybe you do but you break up, or you just never get married, or don’t have kids, or you adopt so you never have Katya. You’d have to talk to Doctor Strange to know the true number of possibilities but your head was ready to explode whenever you thought about it so you were fine not knowing. 

The one thing you hoped with all hope, was that you kept Natasha in your life. No matter what the future became you just wanted- you needed Natasha there. 

Only problem is, after all that progress you’d made in your relationship with her, everything stopped. Conversations, hanging out, seeing each other around, going on missions together. All of it went away. And it wasn’t because of you.

With how much your new schedule allowed you to see Natasha, you wouldn’t have dared to change it. Which let you know that it was her schedule that changed. Better put, she changed her schedule.

You aren’t sure what you’d done. The last time you spent together, the two of you had watched some movie that she really wanted to see. Conversation flowed freely, laughs and smiles exchanged in between. You’d ended up falling asleep during the sequel of the movie and woke up to her in your arms, her head tucked under your chin.

The moment had left you feeling completely content so, with her soft breaths against your neck and your arms wrapped around each other, you fell back to sleep with ease. Only to wake up to her gone. And you hadn’t seen her around since. 

After everything, after all of that, you refused to take steps back. You’d fight for her until she told you to stop. 

“Um, anyone see Natasha?” You ask, stepping into the kitchen.

Today marks a week of not seeing the redhead around as she continues to dodge you. You had been looking all over her, your search interrupted by Steve calling you and Bucky into a meeting regarding your last mission with him. But now that it’s over you’re back to looking for her. 

Sam, Bucky, and Wanda look up at you as you walk in. Your brunette friend raises her eyebrows at your question, tilting her head in silent curiosity. 

Chuckling quietly, Sam asks,“ she still avoiding you?” His eyebrows wiggle slightly as he asks, amusement in his eyes. 

You raise your eyebrow,“ I’m sorry Wilson I don’t understand what’s funny.” You tilt your head challengingly at him.“ Last I checked she’s still not giving you the time of day at all.”

Bucky and Wanda snort, struggling to hold in their laughs. Wanda bites her lip and turns away from Sam, having to sit her mug of tea down as she finally lets her laugh out. Which breaks Bucky’s resolve. Splutters of laughter leaving both of them as they face away from you and Sam.

He smacks his lips and waves you off,“ it ain’t even that funny.” He grumbles and looks down at his lunch. 

“What’s not funny?” 

Your eyebrows raise at the voice behind you, eyes slightly widening in hope as you spin around. Green eyes look into yours and Natasha’s pink lips press into a thin line before she turns on her heel and walks away.  

Looking back at the trio, you point at the spot Natasha had been in with a disbelieving chuckle. Only to have Wanda shoo you away, gesturing for you to go after Natasha. Understanding what she means, you immediately take off after the ex-assassin.

Luckily for you she hadn’t gone far.

You turn the corner and see her marching down the hallway. She’s moving much faster than you’d like, not giving you time to truly appreciate the tight yoga pants and tank top that adorn her body.  

Instead you focus on catching up with her, which doesn’t take much due to your enhanced genetics. Catching up to her just before she can get to her bedroom door, you reach out to grab her arm, gently pulling her back.

Only for her to twist her hand, grabbing your wrist and nearly slamming you into the wall, your arm twisted behind your back. You know if she wanted to she could make this hurt but she doesn’t. Most likely using it to intimidate you as she speaks.

“Stop following me Y/Ln.” She practically hisses through clenched teeth.

You turn your head to look at her over your shoulder.“ Usually I’d agree to that but not this time. I think I deserve some answers Tash.”

Using the little nickname causes her hold on you to loosen, her jaw unclenching.“ Don’t call me that.”

“Fine,” you huff, shoulders dropping as you turn your head slightly to hide your smirk.“ Just talk to me Natty.”

Her eyes roll and she drops your arm, stepping to the side and pushing her bedroom door open. Your eyes widen and you slip inside before the fingerprinted door closes and locks behind her. 

She quickly spins around as you step in and the door closes. Irritation writes across her features even deeper than before. 

“You can turn your ass right back around Y/Ln. I told you to stop following me.” Her arms cross over her chest.

Shaking your head you say,“ and I told you no.” A frown forms on your face as you look at her. Staring into those green eyes causes your feelings to swell.“ Don’t you see how this is hurting me? Being ignored by someone I care about without a single explanation as to why? And you can pretend that you don’t but it’s obviously affecting you too or you wouldn’t be so upset with me trying to talk to you.”

“Y/n just leave it alone. If I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to talk.” She tries to brush it off.“ We’ve gone without talking to each other before so just, go back to that.”

For a second you’re ready to walk away, catch her at a better time but you were done chasing her.“ No. I don’t want that and I don’t think you do either. Stop avoiding me and your feelings and just talk to me!” Your frustration pulls the words from your brain out of your mouth in an exasperated exclamation.

Natasha wastes no time returning the frustration.“ No okay!” She shouts, running her fingers through her hair.“ I don’t like feeling like this so I don’t want to talk about it!”

Eyebrows pinching together, you tilt your head in confusion.“ Feeling like what, Natasha?” A heavy sigh falls from your lips.“ You aren’t telling me something and it’s killing me.” 

Silence falls between you, once again stirring up that frustration.

“What feeling?” You beg her to tell you, more thankful than ever for soundproof walls, otherwise the whole team would hear your yelling.

She glares at you as if you’d personally offended her, then shouts,“ like I’m falling in love with you!” Her hands rise and fall with her words. Resting at her sides in clenched fists as she keeps shouting.

You drop your hands, shoulders sagging as you feel your heart swell. It seems to start beating a mile a minute and your face softens.“ You’re falling in love with me?”

“Yes. No! I don’t know.” Her voice strains as if she’s choking up.“ I don’t know if this is real or not. Just because Katya exists in some future doesn’t mean that she exists in ours. It doesn’t mean that we’re supposed to be together.”

Those words, that simple expression of her feelings makes you realize that she’s been thinking about the exact same things you had been. 

It’s not like what you’ve been feeling towards Natasha was forced. But you did worry if it was all just you subconsciously trying to make that future with Katya happen. Except you knew it wasn’t.

She: Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, ex-assassin/superhero, she’d had your heart long before Katya ever arrived. You fought it tooth and nail because the two of you weren’t on good terms but truth is, you’ve loved her since your first undercover mission almost 15 years ago. 

The first time your best friend had pressed her lips against yours in a sweet kiss meant to distract and deter your targets, you knew you loved her. Maybe she didn’t feel what you did then but she’s feeling it now.

“I love you.” You tell her, watching as she stops ranting and looks at you with scared eyes. Giving her a soft smile, you take a cautious step closer, reaching forward to take her hand. You squeeze it, as if to let her know that this is real, that what you’re about to say is real. 

“I’ve loved you for a long time now Natasha,” you take her other hand,“ Katya being here, the realization of who her parents are, that hasn’t forced my feelings for you. If anything it made me realize that I didn’t fight hard enough. I just let you go and I was so stupid for that. I should’ve tried harder to keep what we had, I should’ve said something about how I felt before.”

Green eyes bore into yours as you speak, a flood of emotions in them.“ Why say something now then? Why wait until you meet the little girl who we apparently parent? Just because it’s supposed to happen doesn’t mean it has to.” Her tone goes from genuinely curious to irritated in a matter of seconds. 

But you don’t let that hinder you. Instead you smile softly at her, letting your honest feelings show in your eyes.“ Because I don’t think we’re supposed to be together. I think we’re meant to be together. Everything we’ve been through together, every laugh and argument, every insult and compliment, it’s all led us to this very moment.”

Fear overtakes her other emotions and it settles in her eyes. 

“And yes it’s scary, terrifying even, but that makes it all the more beautiful. We can run from this. We can act like we don’t love each other, act like this isn’t what we want. But we both know that we,” you pull her hands up to press against your chest, knowing she can feel your heart pounding,“ this is home. It’s everything we need and more than we ever could’ve asked for.”

You see the battle in her eyes, you get a little scared that she’ll choose to run from it, so in a last attempt to fight for this you ask,“ don’t you think we’ve been away from home long enough?”

Like the clouds parting when a storm ends, you see Natasha’s eyes light up. They get bright as she stares at you and you finally finally see that gorgeous smile. 

She pulls her hand from yours and before you can get dejected about it, she wraps it around the back of your neck and pulls you down.

When she speaks you feel the breath of her words against your lips,“ I’ve been looking for a true home for a long time.”

You understand exactly what she’s trying to convey, you hear the unspoken admission of feelings and you feel her opening the door for you to come in. So you do the same in return.

“I promise I’m not gonna hurt you Romanoff.”

In a split second her lips press against yours and it’s like you’re taken back in time. Those same feelings you’d had when she kissed you for the first time come back tenfold. Soft pink lips mold against yours as you place your free hand on her hip to pull her closer.

For a moment you wish you didn’t have to breathe as you wanted nothing more than to continue to kiss her. But your lungs start to protest at the lack of air so you both reluctantly pull away. 

Natasha rests her head on your chest and you wrap your arms around her.

With her in your arms you can’t help but to think: It feels good to be home.

* * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers

[127-mile]

For all the wrong reasons.

Pairing: Doyoung x female reader.

Genre: Exes, enemies to lovers | Fluff, angst.

Warnings: Strong language, brief non-explicit mention of suggestive content.

Plot: Filing for divorce was probably the best decision you ever made with Doyoung. Having to marry him a second time for an inheritance wasn't on your post Doyoung to-do list.

Word count: +7.1k.

A/N: This is part of the Be your enemy collab hosted by @treasurehobi​. | I wish I could remember where I saw the original prompt I used as an inspiration.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you spit when you see Doyoung outside of the building where you work. "You know I'm working, why the fuck would you ask me to come out?" Doyoung rolls his eyes, and you see the way he clenches his fists. It is so easy to rile him up, even though he probably already was before you joined him. "We need to talk."

"Talk about what? If it's not about all of the shit you still have in the garage, then I don't want to hear a word about it." he nibbles on his lower lip, an habit he always had when he is nervous, or ready to explode. You witnessed it way too many times. "You are rambling, you idiot!" you do not have the time, or the faith to keep up with him, so you turn on your heels, and when you put your hand on the doorknob of the heavy glass door, he calls out for you. "Wait."

"Doyoung, I have to go back to work, what do you want?" you ask in a long sigh and he mumbles something you can't quite understand. "Can you repeat, I can't hear anything you say when you mumble between your teeth." he takes a step closer, because he doesn't want to have to yell for the whole world to hear. "My aunt is dead." oh, that was not was you were expecting.

"Which one? The sweet one, or the old bitter bitch?" you ask as you turn to face him once again. "The sweet one." that's too bad, because this was probably the only member of Doyoung's family that you always liked, also the only member of his family that liked you from the minute you stepped inside of the house when you were 15. "I'm sorry, I know you loved her."

"I thought you deserved to know, she always adored you," he starts, and you cross your arms over your chest, maybe you should have taken your jacket before going out. "but this is not the only reason I came here." You do not try to think about why he is here, so instead, you prompt him to keep talking. "She left a will, and you know how all of her children were assholes so she gave them the bare minimum, and she gave me the rest."

"Good for you, I guess, you always wanted the lake house." he shakes his head, because yes, the lake house is a sweet addition, and he can only dream of the weekend he is going to spend there for the rest of his life, but this is still not why he is here. "You have to know, that if I had the choice, I would not be here, trust me, you are the last person I wanted to see." alright, that hurts. "Then what do you want from me?"

"We need to get married."

Your eyes open wide, and you throw your head back to laugh heartily. "Doyoung, we got divorced last year." he rolls his eyes, and you follows the movement of the tip of his tongue wetting his lips with your eyes. "I know, this was the best day of my life. But my aunt believed in us, she believed in our relationship, in our marriage, and the will stipulates that if I want to inherit everything, we have to be wedded."

"That's a joke, right?" you ask and he shakes his head. You know it is not a joke, you have known his aunt for many years, and to be honest, you are not even surprised to hear that. You do not know how many times she reminded you that your marriage to Doyoung was the best thing that has happened in this family. "I guess you'll have to say goodbye to your inheritance."

"Oh come on, I'm not asking you for the fucking moon! I never asked you for anything, can't you do me one fucking favor!" he exclaims and you look around, you do not want any of your coworkers to see what is happening, because you'll never hear the end of it. "And if I do it, what do I get in exchange?" you ask in a sigh.

"Her car, money, that necklace she promised you, I don't know, whatever you want." the corner of your lips curl into a smirk, and he takes a step back. He knows you better than anyone else on this stupid planet, so he knows that this smile doesn't bode well. "Everything?" he knows he shouldn't, but he nods nonetheless.

"I want the lake house."

"What? You will never get the lake house!" he says, almost offended that you would have the audacity to ask for the only thing he ever wanted. The house where he grew up, the house he spent so many vacations in with his aunt and his cousins. The house where he proposed to you. "I'm not asking for the fucking moon, Doyoung." you imitate Doyoung, but unlike him, you speak in a much softer voice.

"I hate you." he mutters when he understands that you are making fun of him, and you shrug. "Tell me something I don't already know." you stay silent for a moment, and Doyoung, still waiting for his answer, shifts from one leg to the other. "If I do it, will I finally get rid of you?" Doyoung doesn't show anything, but hearing this does something to his heart. He doesn't know if it's relief to finally be able to move on after this, or the closure that it'll bring. "Yes, you won't hear from me after that."

"Alright," you start in a huff. "Let's get married. Again."

What a stupid idea, you both think as you part ways.

You know you should not be doing it, you know you should not get close to Doyoung again, and he knows it too, you both suffered too much before, and even after the divorce, that it will not bring anything good. You got married because of love the first time, and you are going to get married because of all the wrong reasons, the second time. Hopefully, this time, divorcing won't hurt as much.

"You look fucking stupid, who knitted this sweater, your mother?" you say as soon as Doyoung steps inside of the café. Doyoung does look stupid, but not because of the pink sweater, but because of his messy hair and the crooked glasses on the bridge of his nose. "My girlfriend made it for me," he says in a low voice as he sits down on the chair in front of you. "and it's not stupid, it's a pretty sweater. She spent a lot of time working on it."

"Your girlfriend? Poor soul. Does she know you are currently having coffee with your ex wife?" you ask, straigtening up on the chair. You did not know he had a girlfriend, and maybe it is for the better, because you would have told him to fuck off last week when he came to see you. "Yes, he does know." you hum sipping on your cup of tea. "And fo I have to expect a crazy girl banging on my door at three am, asking me to stop sleeping with her boyfriend, or did you finally find someone normal?"

"Do you always have to remind me of my past?" he asks, but you know it is a rethorical question, that he is not waiting for an answer, but there is no way you are missing an opportunity like this one. "Doyoung, we took one break in our relationship, and you found a way to date the most jealous girl on campus. She was fucked up, and she tries to push me down the fucking stairs, so yes, I have to remind you of your past mistakes."

"You are the worst." he brings his own cup to his lips, and he sips on the coffee he just drowned in milk and sugar like a kid who never had caffeine before. "So, I contacted the town hall, and we can have the ceremony there tomorrow at 2 pm." oh, how romantic, the complete opposite to your first wedding. So big, luxurious and filled with love and laughter. "Sounds like a dream. Do we have to get dressed, or what?" he shrugs. "I don't know. Wear something nice, not that ugly hoodie of yours."

"Fuck you. You were happy to steal my hoodie when we were still in university." he sighs with exasperation, he did not come here to be reminded of his youth. Of the time they could still hold a conversation without cursing at each other at the first opportunity, without wishing the other was somewhere else, or worst, dead. Of the time you did not hate each other as much as you do now.

"Do we need witnesses?" you ask and he seems to think about it, or to recall everything the town hall secretary told him on the phone earlier. "Uh, yes, I think we do, to sign the papers." that's where it will get complicated, you think. "Amazing, I can't wait to ask Yuta to sign the wedding papers. A wedding I put an end to last year." he is going to be so mad at you, and you can already hear him yell. "Eh, don't act like you are the only one who'll have to get yelled at! I have to ask Johnny, and you know how he gets when we do something he does not approve of."

"Why don't you ask your girlfriend to marry you for the inheritance?" you ask with genuine curiosity and Doyoung tilts his head to the side, and he looks at you like you just said the dumbest thing he had ever heard in his entire life. "Are you stupid, or are you trying to waste my time? The notary will not accept to give me anything if it's not your name on the marriage certificate." yes, you expected as much.

"Why does he even need a marriage certificate? That's stupid, there is no proof that we are not married anymore." he shrugs, putting his cup back on the old wooden table. "He is a notary, he is probably going to do some research to be sure we are not going against my aunt's will." you drink the last of your tea, and you stand up under Doyoung's gaze. "Alright, I have to go and talk to the Devil. If you don't see me at the town hall tomorrow, it's because he sent me straight to hell."

"Same goes for me. Good luck."

When you find yourself in front of Yuta's door, you try to muster everything you have to push the door. This is not going to be fun, but it has to be done, you can't ask some stranger to be your witness, because you probably need the signature of the same person who was by your side during your actual wedding. What were you thinking when you asked Yuta? Well, maybe because at that time, you did not think you would file for divorce, and get married to him again, a year later.

"Oh, hello, pretty stranger." Yuta says when he sees you in front of the door, lost in your thoughts. But his voice is enough to bring you back were you are, and to remind you of what you have to do. "Yuta, we have to talk." you whisper, and he heads for the living room. "Do I need to sit, or can I stay up?" he asks with the shadow of a smile on his face, he thinks it is not that serious, but it is, and he is in for a surprise.

"I think you should sit down." oh, his smile fades right away, and you nibble on your lower lip. You should have rehearsed what to say, because you find yourself stupid in front of Yuta who is waiting, nervously playing with his fingers. "Can you please start to talk before I start thinking all type of crazy things."

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, Yuta speaks again, and he asks the dumbest question he could have asked. "Oh my god, are you pregnant? Yes, that's it, you are pregnant! Am I the father? No, it's been too long, and we were careful every time. Wait, we did it last week? Isn't that too short to know? Oh my god, I'm going to be a father!"

Your eyes widen at his words and you shake your head furiously. "Yuta, what the fuck? I'm not pregnant, and we did not even sleep together last week!" he heaves a sigh of relief, and you roll your eyes. He gets excited really easily, but hecan also calm down as quickly. "Oh. Then who did I sleep with last week?" you should file for divorce with your friends too. "I don't know Yuta, I do not live here to see who you bring home every day."

"Are you calling me a slut?" he cackles and you shake your head, at least, the tension is way less tense. "Yuta, I did not come here to slut shame you or anything, I do have something important I have to tell you. And to ask you too, if you are willing to listen to me until I'm done before getting mad."

"Why would I get mad? I never get mad!" he says, offended, and you grab a chair to sit in front of him, you can't stay up for that, your legs are already shaking.

"Doyoung and I are getting married tomorrow, and I need you to come to the town hall at 2 pm to be my witness and sign the papers." you blut out and you cover your mouth with your hand, because you wanted to explain the situation before coming to this part, but you apparently do not have a brain to mouth filter.

Yuta stands up so fast that he almost trips on his own feet, he opens his mouth a few times but no sound comes out. You did expect as much. "What the fuck!" he says first, and you were expecting him to start yelling, but no, his voice is barely above a whisper. "You are back with Doyoung? Why would you do something like that? Are you masochist or just plain stupid?"

"Call me stupid one more time, and I swear to God that I will kick you in the balls right here and there!" you mutter and he rolls his eyes as he sits back down. "Listen to me, understand everything, and then you will be allowed to judge me."

When he stays quiet, you start talking again.

"Doyoung's aunt passed away, and she decided to give him pretty much everything she ever had, but it is stated in the will that if he wants to get the inheritance, we still have to be wedded. So he came to me the other day, asking me if we could get married again, so he could get the inheritance."

He hums and he crosses his arms over his chest. "And what will happen after?" you shrug. "We did not talk about it just yet, but I guess we are going to divorce. Again."

He heaves a long and deep sigh as he stands up, only to pace around the living room this time. "I understand what he is asking you. If he is doing it, it is because the inheritance is worth it. But have you thought about the consequences? Do you think you are emotionally strong enough to go through another divorce?" he asks in a soft voice.

"I don't know, Yuta. But I guess I will be? I mean, this time there will be no problem with separation of property, or anything. It's just a wedding of convenience, nothing else. No feelings involved." he stops in front of you, and he puts a hand on your shoulder. "Are you sure about the last part?" you hate when he asks this question. "Doyoung is my first love, and despite everything that happened between us, he will always have a special place in my heart no matter what I say, or show, but this is over. And he has a girlfriend."

"If you promise me that you won't let your heart get broken again, then you can count on me, I will be there tomorrow to sign the papers. Again." you wrap you arms around his waist, burrying your face against his toned stomach. "I promise." you whisper, and if you had your fingers crossed behind his back, this is nobody's business.

"Look who's here."

You turn your head when Yuta speaks, and your eyes meet Doyoung's. He is closely followed by a clearly annoyed Johnny who does not look up from his phone, and you wonder how bad it was yesterday. You would give everything you have to be able to witness what happened in the confine of Johnny's apartment when Doyoung asked him to come today. Did he punch him? That probably did not happen, but it's a thought that warms your heart.

"Are you wearing the fucking suit?" you ask and he stops, a bright smile illuminating his face. "Well, it is a wedding, it's only fair to wear the suit of our first wedding." what a little shit, he told you to dress nicely, but to not go all the way like it was real fucking wedding. "I wanted to burn it a few weeks after our break up, and honestly, I'm happy I didn't do it. Maybe I'll do it during the first weekend I'll spend in the lake house to celebrate my inheritance and our second divorce."

"What if I punched you in the face?" Yuta asks, stepping out in front of you, and you have to grab his wrist to be sure he is not taking another step. "I'm sure the suit will look way better with your blood on it!" you meet Johnny's gaze and he smiles, he has no intention to step in between them, and because you know it, and won't do it either, you smile back. "What's up Y/n, it's been a while."

"I'm getting married to my ex-husband for money, you know, the usual." he chuckles and you let go of Yuta's hand when him and Doyoung seem to relax. "I almost punched him in the face when he told me. "Johnny adds, and yes, it is basic Johnny's bevahior. "You should have done it, but I guess you still have time. Maybe you could do it when we get out of the town hall, as a wedding gift?" Doyoung looks at you, and at Johnny, in time with a frown. "That's a great idea! I'll do it, and I'll give you time to take a photo."

"Maybe I should marry you instead of Doyoung." you concede, when you enter the town hall. "Maybe you should, but it's not like I never asked you before." Doyoung stops, and you almost bump against his back and he turns on his heels. "What do you mean, it's not like you never asked her?" he asks in between clenched teeth. "Why do you care man?" Johnny answers and you chuckle.

Johnny is Doyoung's best friend, and yet, he loves pissing him off as much as you do, and that's probably why you get along so well. He puts an arm over your shoulders as you climb the stairs to the right room. "You should not touch her like that, we are supposed to get married." Doyoung says in a breath, and Johnny takes a step back. "It's a fake marriage, I can do whatever I want with the bride."

"Come on kids, right now is not the right time to fight." you say before the doors open on the mayor. "You can do it later." you enter the room, Yuta on your heels and with a pretty angry Doyoung beside you.

You come out half an hour later, your old wedding ring around your finger, and Doyoung with his. You are surprised he did not throw it away. "Well, that sucked." you mumble so as not to be heard by the mayor you smile at.

"Your first wedding was more fun. Taeyong got drunk and fell into the pond." Yuta says and you laugh at the memory. Yours and Doyoung's families left pretty early, so it was only the newly neds and your friends for the whole night, and things got out of hand pretty quickly, you probably will never forget any of it, even though you should.

"So, what are we doing?" Johnny asks, burrying his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "We have an appointment with the notary tomorrow morning, so we have the rest of the day." Doyoung says with a shrug and you turn your head to watch him. "Shouldn't you go home to your girlfriend, tell her everything about how you said "I do" to me for the second time of your life?"

"Fuck off, Y/n. Do you always have to ruin everything?" you try to stay quiet, you really try, but you can't. "Do I have to ruin everything? You are the reason we got a divorce, Doyoung! Our relationship turned to shit because of you, and you have the guts to tell me to stop ruining everything? You did it first, so suck it up."

"You do whatever you want, I'm going home, I'm tired of seeing his face." you say before kissing Yuta's cheek, thanking him for being here, as always, and before disappearing in the corner of the street, you look at Doyoung one last time. "You have the certificate, you can go to the notary on your own tomorrow. Good riddance, asshole."

You know this is not part of the deal, but you really do not want to see him for something you do not have to actually be there. The certificate will be enough for the notary to understand that you are married, and Doyoung, oh all mighty stupid Doyoung will find a good lie for the date on the certificate, you do not doubt that one bit. He is a good liar after all.

It is around 2 o'clock when someone knocks on the door, and nuzzled in a blanket on the sofa with an horror movie playing on the television, you do not feel like moving to open the door. Whoever it is, they can wait, or call you if it is urgent.

You heave a sigh of relief when the knocking stops, but then, it is your phone who starts to rind and you whine loudly. You pout, but when you see Doyoung's picture on the screen, the pout turns into a frowns and you pick up. "What do you want? Another wedding?" you hear him sigh from the other side of the line. "Open the door." oh god, now you have to stand up, and for who? For Kim fucking Doyoung.

You hang up, and after a minute or two of weighting the pros and cons, you stand up, and head to the front door that you open slightly. "What?" without saying a word, he hands you a letter and you look at him without taking it. "What is that?" he rolls his eyes, arm still stretched. "A letter for us, from my aunt, that the notary gave me earlier. I didn't think it would be nice to open it without you."

"You can come in, but I want you gone in five minutes." you mumble as you push yourself from the door to let him in. "Where is the carpet my mom bought you?" he asks as he takes his jacket and shoes off. "I unfortunately dropped a few glasses of red wine on it, and it became impossible to wash out, so I threw it away. What a shame, a beautiful carpet." of course you did, he knows you never liked anything coming from his mother.

"If you have the letter with you, I guess the appointment with the notary went well?" you go back to the living room and you sit down on the armchair. "He was a bit hesitant to accept the certificate as it was dated from yesterday." that was expected. "And what did you tell him?" he heaves a long sigh as he sits directly on the ground, like he used to do when he still lived here.

"I told him we had a flooding at the house, and that our certificate got ruined. I also said that the town hall lost some files, so we had to ask for a new one." that's smart. "You should open the letter, you only have 3 minutes left before I kick your ass out of this house."

He opens the letter and he looks at the words, written prettily by his aunt probably a few years ago, when she was still here, when she had hope about their relationship.

"My loves," Doyoung starts to read out loud. "if you are reading this letter, it means I am no longer in this world, but fear not, I will always be close to you, no matter where I am. You must have been surprised when you learned about the will, about the inheritance, but let me explain. My children, well, you know them, you know how they are and they do not deserve even half of what I have. Well, had. But you, you do deserve it. You are young, full of love, and ready to start your life together. As I am writing this, you are about to get married, Y/n is also in the room with me, she is getting her makeup done, and Doyoung, she is absolutely beautiful, you are the luckiest man."

Doyoung either takes a break to catch his breath, or to let the words settle.

"So, as I was saying, you are about to start your life together, and you only deserve the best. This is why I decided to give you everything I had. Doyoung, you grew up in the lake house, you even proposed to your beautiful wife there, it is only normal for you to get it. My car, that Y/n always loved, you can have it, as well as the necklace I promised to give her when my time would come. And the rest. You can keep what you want, you can sell the rest, or give it away, make someone else happy, I trust the two of you to do what is good."

You cross your arms over your chest, lowering your head when Doyoung starts to speak again.

"You two fell in love really young, and unfortunately, the families were not supportive enough, and made you feel like what you felt was not real, that you would get over it at some point. Y/n, I want to apologize for everything they ever said, or done to you, you never did anything to deserve any of this. You both never deserved the treatment they gave you. You only deserve the best, and all of the happiness the world can give you. I hope I will help a little bit on that. Be happy, always, be there for each other, and never forget that you should never go to bed mad. Doyoung, you are stubborn, so please, take the time to listen to Y/n, and turn your tongue seven times in your mouth before speaking, you would not want to lose her. The love of your life. I love you both so much, thank you for always being by my side."

When Doyoung puts the letter back inside of the envelop, you sigh. "I did not even notice her writing back then." you say in a whisper. "But now, I understand her decision, she really was rooting for us, uh?" Doyoung nods, and he is touched by the letter, if the way his eyes are shining is anyhing to go by. "She was the only one who believed in us. She would be incredibly disappointed if she knew."

Because yes, if the situation is this tricky is because you did not tell her when you decided to break up. It was only supposed to be a few days/weeks break, but it turned into a divorce, and you were so busy with the divorce in itself, the lawyers, the moving and everything that you both forgot to tell her, and maybe it was a good thing, at least, she did not pass away sad or disappointed. Because if she knew, she would have changed her will. And to be honest, you are not even sure Doyoung's family knows.

"She would be, yes." you stay silent for a minute and when Doyoung stands up, you look up at him. "What are we doing now?"

"We should go to the lake house, so you can get whatever you want from the house, the necklace, and the books you loved so much, and then I guess we'll call the lawyer." what does it hurt so bad to hear him say that? You did not want to see him again, but after hearing what his aunt thought about you, about the relationship, it feels different, you head and your hearts are a mess.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow around 8am, so we won't come home too late, alright?" you nod, and without another word, Doyoung leaves the house, leaving behind him a heavy silence and a lot of things to think about for you.

"I hate you."

Doyoung's eyes widen at your words, and he turns his eyes but being the one driving, he can't watch you for too long. "What have I done? I did not say anything for over an hour!" he exclaims and you shrug as you look at the landcape behind the window. The city long gave way to the country side, and you have to admit that it is way prettier than all of the buildings of the city.

"The music sucks, and I still don't like your sweater."

"You need to stop hating on my sweaters, because you did not complain about them when you were cold!" he answers and you stick your tongue out at him. "Yeah well, maybe if you had agreed on letting me keep them, then maybe they would not look so ugly." he chuckles as he shakes his head. "You are impossible."

"Can I ask you a question?" he nods. "Did you tell your parents, about the divorce?" well, that was not was he was expecting. "I did, a few weeks ago." a few weeks ago, when you have been divorced for a year now, yeah, sounds valid. "They were probably very happy to learn the news." well, you were not happy about getting a divorce at such a young age, but you were definitely happy to get rid of his parents. So it's only fair that they felt the same.

"You know how they are, they told me it was for the best, that we were not made to be together, you know, what they always told us." you can hear his mother's voice in your head, and you wince at the thought. "At least I succeeded on making her happy once in my life."

You stay silent for a few minutes, but you open your mouth mouth. "And now I'm mad, because I promised myself to never do anything to make her happy! Fuck me!" Fortunately, he is at a red sign, because Doyoung starts to laugh to the point where his vision becomes blurry with tears.

"Stop laughing idiot!" you say when you hear the horns of the cars behind Doyoung's car. "Don't yell at me, it's your fault!" you can't help but to laugh along with him and it takes you a few minutes to calm down, and it's been a long time since you laughed with Doyoung, and it makes you feel.. light? And definitely happy.

"Oh my god, I don't remember the last time I came here." you say as you get out of the car when Doyoung stops the engine. The lake house is typical of a lake house, made of wood, old and yet beautiful. The flowers are blooming and it makes the entire area colorful and it is hard for you to close your mind to the memories that come with the view. "Honestly? I don't remember either."

Doyoung opens the door, and he starts to cough when it moves a cloud of dust around him. "Oh wow, I don't think my aunt came here for a long time." the house used to be clean, and smelling of fresh flowers and laundry, but today, it smells of nothing but dust and wilted flowers on the coffee table. "I have a few days off, next week, we can come to clean, if you want." you propose.

"We?" you shrug as you nudge him to enter the house, and even if it's not what it used to be, it still feels like home. And you know Doyoung feels the same, he told you so many times that he wanted nothing more than to finish his days here, with a family, and a dog. "I spent as much time in this house as you did, it's normal that I help you. But you can refuse, and clean by yourself, I don't mind."

He rolls his eyes and without another word, he climbs the stairs only to come back a few minutes later with a wooden box. "Here, take it." you take it, and you smile when you see his aunt's jewelery. She had incredible taste, and she never wanted to leave the house without wearing them.

"I'm only taking the necklace. You should give one of these rings to your girlfriend, I'm sure she would love it." you put the box on the coffee table and you take out the necklace you had fallen in love with at the second you saw Doyoung's aunt wear it. "What did you say?" you ask when Doyoung says something, but with the way his teeth are clenched, it is impossible for you to understand something.

"I said, I don't have a girlfriend." you do something you should never have done, you flop down on the couch, waving your hands to get rid of the dust around you. "What? But you said you had one the other day." he heaves a long sigh as he sits down on the ground, grimacing when he realizes how bad of an idea it was. "I know, but I did not think, I only wanted to piss you off, I guess." you roll your eyes. "You guessed right, because it did piss me off."

"For real?" this is the conversation you wish you did not need to have, but you also know that Doyoung is stubborn and he will keep hasking until you give him the answer he wants. "You know it well, I don't need to explain."

"Please, do." of fucking course.

"Doyoung, you are my first boyfriend, my first husband, and of course, my first love. And you will remain my first love, no matter how much we hate each other. No matter how much we hate each other, I will still love you." you could say, no matter if you are married or not, you will still love him, but you do not see yourself married to someone that is not him, honestly.

"I don't hate you, you know." Doyoung says, and you tilt your head to the side. "Well, you do act like you hate me, so it is a bit hard to believe what you are saying." he brings one of his leg against his chest, his chin on his knee. "It's true though, I only act like that because you hate me, and I don't want to give you another reason to hate me even more."

"So you are telling me, that you only pretend to hate me, because I hate you?" he hums. "When I only act like that because you hate me." his eyes open wide, and it is almost comical, especially when he understand what you are saying. "So you don't hate me?"

"The last months of our relationship, and of course, the divorce, it hurt me a lot, way more than I thought it would, but that never meant that I hated you. Of course, I did hate you, for a while, but like I said, you are my first love, and I always wanted you to be my only love. So no, I never hated you as much as I tried to show you for the past few months."

Doyoung chuckles. "We are idiots." but his smile slowly fades. "By the way, I wanted to apologize for what I said the other day, when I said you always found a way to ruin everything." oh yes, that hurt like a bitch, and it still hurts, thinking about it. "It's fine, Doyoung, I know you only said that because you were mad at me, but please, don't say something like that again, because it hurt. And also because I'll punch you in the throat next time."

"Threats, threats, you always threaten me, but you never do anything about it." he says in a sigh, and you gasp. "Don't push me, Doyoung, because I will act on one of the threats."

"You're all bark and no bite."

You stand up, and you pounce on Doyoung whose mouth opens in a silent scream, he was not expecting you to act on your words. "I'm not going to punch you, because you still have to drive us back home, but I will do it, one day, trust me." you say, straddling his lap.

You only realize your position on Doyoung when he stops breathing. "Oh." you could move, stand up and sit back down on the couch, but something tells you that you should stay here. You meet Doyoung's gaze, and your eyes close when his fingers brush against your cheek. "What are you doing?" you ask in a whisper and you feel him shrug. "I don't know. But tell me if you want me to stop."

You wonder what he means by that, but soon enough, you feel his lips grazing against yours and your breath hitches in your throat. Don't do it, you want to scream, you are going to ruin everything, but you find yourself unable to speak. Why? Because you are dying to kiss him. You have been dying to kiss him for so long now, you were just stubborn, and too hurt to stop denying the truth.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks in a soft voice, and you open your eyes. You can see so many emotions in his eyes, so many emotions you had not seen in a long time. And you know you shouldn't, you know you should stop whatever is happening, get your stuff and ask him to drive you back home, but something is stopping you. Your heart is taking over your brain. "Please."

The feeling of his soft lips against yours is enough to bring back so many memories. The nights you spent in this living room, in front of the lit fireplace, kissing and giggling like teenagers trying to not wake up his parents and his aunt. You were in love back then, and the world did not exist around you. It was the two of you and only the two of you.

And it still is the same no matter what happened the past few months.

"I love you, I always loved you, and I will always love you." Doyoung says against your lips.

Four months later.

"What the hell are you doing? There are people around!" you explain when you see Doyoung kneeling on the ground, in front of all the friends you had invited for a weekend at the lake house. "Doyoung, come on, get up!"

He shakes his head, and he takes out a red silk case, the same one you have seen so many times placed on his aunt's dressing table. The one her husband proposed to marry her when she was barely 18. The same age you were when Doyoung first proposed to you. The conversations around stop, and you are pretty sure you heard a gasp.

"I know we've done it twice already. Once for love, and once for this house, but I want this time to be the one for eternity. This past year without you has been the worst, since you weren't by my side, for the first time since our teenage years. Life without you makes no sense, and I intend to take this second chance to redo everything, and to redo everything perfectly. My aunt said we deserved it, and you know what? I agree with her. That's why I would like to ask you to be my wife. Again."

He takes a deep breath, and he almost loses his balance but you are quick to put a hand on his shoulder to help him out. Even though it is not the first time, it does feel like it, you feel butterflies in your stomach, and your heart is pounding in your chest. "Of course I want to be your wife, Doyoung." you say and his smile is so bright that you almost have to look away, but you do not. This is the smile you love more than anything in the world.

This is Doyoung's smile. And you always loved him. And you know that whatever life throws at you, you will overcome everything, as long as you are together. And as long as you communicate.

[softtransbf]

Fresh Blood, Old Scars Part 1

You'd disappeared 15 years ago without a trace- what's Yancy supposed to do when you walk into Happy Trails Penitentiary and don't recognize him, because he's transitioned? canon compliant trans!yancy/reader

Reader: he/him trans man, no physical description

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of violence, canonical and parental. deadnaming and misgendering before either of you came out (none by anyone who knows the correct name/pronouns)

Word Count: 2,690

“Hey Yancy, I heard there’s fresh blood comin’ in today for some sorta museum heist.”

“Oh? Know anything else about these guys, so we can give ‘em a proper welcome, Bambam?”

“I know some. The first guy, Mark Iplier, claimed to have been in charge of the whole thing, but from what my sources said, it’s the partner that ran the show- just real quiet-like. I’ve been told that he don’t say a word.”

“Got a name for this, uh, silent partner?” He chuckled at his joke.

“Y/N L/N.” Yancy’s stomach dropped the way it always did when he heard that last name, your last name. Get your shit together. Wrong first name, and Bambam said he and his. Bambam don’t use pronouns other than they/them unless they’re sure. It’s just some guy with the same last name.

“Yance, you okay?” Tiny waved his hand in front of Yancy’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, just, uh, thinkin about how best to greet dese guys. The usual, wit Don’t Wanna Be Free ready just in case?”

“Right off the bat? You really think they’re that high of a flight risk?” Sparkles finally spoke up.

“I, uh, I don’t trust dem silent-types. They’s always schemin’, got somethin goin ahn in their heads.” And if he's anything like- yeah. Gone before you know it.

“Okay, if you say so. I’ll go let the others know.” Yancy didn’t even register who was speaking; he was too lost in memories.

- 15 years earlier-

Yancy knew it wasn’t cool to be excited for the first day of school when you’re a senior in high school, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need or even want to be cool- all he needed was to be your friend. Well, maybe not just friend. You’d been gone for almost the entire summer, and he’d spent the whole time figuring out how to both ask you out and tell you that he’s a guy.

He practically skipped across the street to your house so you can walk to school together, like you had every day since middle school. He knocked- nothing. Rang the doorbell- still nothing. He checked the back door and the spots where you had hidden spare keys over the years- nothing. All the curtains were drawn, too, so he couldn’t see inside. He kept trying as long as he possibly could before he had to sprint to make it to class just barely in time. All day, he kept an eye on the door, waiting for you- the two of you made sure to sign up for the exact same schedule before you went on your vacation. At lunch, he went to the office to see what he could find out.

“Y/DN isn’t a student here anymore- Mr L/N just told us last week.”

“What? Do you know where they went?”

“I’m sorry, hon, I don’t. All I know is that Y/DN is no longer a student here.”

He’d never ditched a class in his life, but that was the last thing on his mind as he ran home, crying. He didn’t stop crying for weeks.

-Present -

He’d never wanted to be wrong more in his life, but there you were. Looking better than he’d ever dreamed, following Mark around silently as he blabbered on about wanting to rally the other inmates to try to break out. No. I lost you once, and it cost me everything. I’m not about to lose you again. He quickly spread the word to skip pleasantries with the new guys and prepare for the song. As he was, you made eye contact with him from across the room. His heart dropped; you didn’t recognize him. You looked right through him, with the same calculating expression you gave everyone else. Of course he wasn’t gonna recognize you, dumbass. You’ve been on hormones for years and have had top surgery. Usually Yancy loved that he couldn’t see anything of the person he used to be in the mirror, but today he hated it more than anything in the world. Stick to the plan, Yance. He doesn’t recognize me, but it might be better this way. This way, I can get him to stay and get to know me as I am now, and he won’t be disappointed that I haven’t become anything like what we dreamed of so long ago.

Yancy couldn’t have planned it better, Mark practically begging Jimmy to punch him through the wall right before the show started, leaving you alone.

The number went great, as always, but then you showed him a picture of your parents. He knew that picture; you took it when the four of you went on a vacation together before you started your freshman year of high school. He also knew that he had once been in the picture, but you’d cut him out. The tape and staples that had been holding his heart together since you left fell away.

He stuck with his usual response to people citing family for wanting to leave, for the most part. No one at Happy Trails knew about you, and he’d killed his parents before they could leave him, so he’d kept his true abandonment issues to himself. Face to face with you after all these years, though, he couldn’t stop himself from adding “they’re always just gonna leave you behind” and a warning about trifling with the past. You flinched a little at both of those, and a spark of hope ignited in his chest- maybe you hadn’t forgotten about him, even if you didn’t recognize him now.

Then you still chose to leave. The rest of the rather single-sided conversation was a blur to him. Later, as he was tending to his injuries in solitary, he remembered calling you handsome and/or beautiful and your blush when he did. And, of course, you knocking him flat on his ass. He’d challenged you to a fight, because he’d always been able to beat you before. The part that truly left him confused, though, was why he offered to help you break out.

All he’d wanted for the last fifteen years was to go back to the day you left and beg you to stay. He’d told himself dozens, maybe hundreds, of times that if he ever saw you again, he’d do everything in his power to keep you with him. On his darker and angrier days, he truly meant everything. But here you are, and he offered to help you leave. This is what you get for even hoping someone might stick around. Let’s just do this. I gotta stop in with the warden first, though…

“Me? Out there? With you?” He chuckled. You had no idea that, with that simple gesture, you offered him everything he’d wanted for so long. Fuck, I don’t deserve him. I still love him, but he deserves someone better than the angry, selfish man I am. The fragments of his heart splintered even more. “I, um. I done a lotta bad things. And, uh.” He made himself brighten up. “This is home! For now, anyway. Maybe next time parole comes up, I’ll, uh” take it and go find you like I should have fifteen years ago. And I’ll spend every minute until then trying to become the kind of man you deserve. “Anyway, I gotta get back to it. You take care now, you hear? And, hey, visitation! Every third Sunday!” You looked down at the box you’d brought with you, and he ran. When he got back to his cell, he cried genuine tears for the first time since that August day when his world turned upside down.

- 2 weeks later, visitation day -

He knew hoping you’d come was a waste of time, and that he was just setting himself up for more pain. He’d learned the hard way that when you were gone, that was that. But still, there he was, looking up every time a guard walked into the room. As expected, they never called his name. The rest of the inmates gave him a wide berth as he went back to his cell for the night, and they were right to. He was itching for an excuse to fight. No one gave him one, though, so he told himself he’d find one tomorrow and got ready for bed.

When he got to his cell, it took him just one second to realize there was someone on his bed, pull them off, and shove them against the wall. It took him three more to process that it was you, and then another five to step back and let you go.

“Sorry for scaring you, Yancy. I didn’t mean to. It’s just… it’s visitation day, but I’m still wanted for the escape you helped me pull off, and I haven’t decided if I want to come back for good or not.” He stood there, frozen. You chuckled nervously. “I get it, your turn to be the quiet one. I’m sorry about that, by the way. There was a lot to process all at once, and I just kinda shut down when I get overwhelmed.”

I know. I remember that you didn’t say a single word our first day of high school, Yancy wanted to say. He wanted to say something, anything, but you being there and so close was just too much.

“Okay, so, honesty time; there’s a specific reason I came back.” You took a deep breath. “I haven’t been able to shake this feeling that I know you, somehow. But I know I’d remember meeting you- no way I’d forget someone like you. Anyway, I'm probably way off base and ridiculous. I guess I just wanted to tell you?” You ran your hand through your hair. “God, that sounds even flimsier than it felt in my head. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It, uh. It means a lot that you came back to say that.”

“Uh, Yancy? What happened to your accent?”

“Shit. Um. C’mere.” He muttered, as he sat down on his bed and pulled you down next to him. He prayed that you couldn’t hear how his heart started racing when he noticed your knees were touching. “No one here knows that the accent isn’t how I always speak. Not even the warden. I’ve been here five years and haven’t dropped it once. Anyone learns about this, and you’re dead, understand?” He knew that the threat was empty, but you seemed to believe it.

“Yeah, yeah, I do, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. I gotta ask, though- why fake it? It seems like a lot of effort. You don’t owe me an explanation, of course, but since you’re heart-on-your-sleeve about your parents, it must be one hell of a reason. I bet it’d feel good to let it off your chest. I can promise to leave and never come back if you do- a burden shared is a burden halved, and if I’m gone, you can be 100% sure no one here will know.”

He took a deep breath. “Something flipped my world on its head, and I needed to distance myself from who I was before. That’s an odd phrase, though- ‘a burden shared is a burden halved’. Where’d you pick that up?”

“Oh, um. The mom of someone I loved a long time ago used to say it a lot. It just kinda stuck, I guess.”

“Loved, huh? You break their heart, or did they break yours?” Yancy was surprised he got the words out without his voice shaking or cracking. You were silent for a long time, and Yancy was sure he’d pushed too hard and you would completely shut down or, worse, leave altogether.

“Sorry, I haven’t talked about this… ever." Your voice shook. "I’ve never talked to anyone about this. I don’t know if I was loved back, but if so, I was the heartbreaker. I didn’t mean to be- I couldn’t control having to leave, and I didn’t know I wasn’t coming back until it was too late. I couldn’t say goodbye. I’ve hoped every day for the last fifteen years that my feelings were unrequited, though. I’m happy to have the pain of an unrequited first love if it means she wasn’t heartbroken.” The incorrect pronoun stung a bit, but you didn’t know, and you’d loved him back all those years ago. He was invincible.

“Have you tried reaching out? Even if your feelings were one-sided, I think you owe it to both of you to say them, at least once.” He reached out and took your hands without thinking. You didn't stop him, and he felt like he could fly.

“I tried, actually. About eight years ago, I'd, uh, escaped and was finally an actual person again after everything that was done to and taken from me, so I started looking for her. But it’s like she vanished off the face of the earth five years to the day after we were separated. It’s actually how I met Mark- I got into some deep and shady shit looking. I only gave up last year. Nothing turned up in seven years of searching, so I have to figure that she did something incredibly stupid a decade ago and got herself killed.”

“I didn’t die. Just the name did.” Yancy breathed. A half second later, he realized he’d said it out loud, and his heart stopped. You took your hands out of his and scooted away.

“Yancy. Are you trying to tell me that you’re- that we- oh my god. It is you. I knew I knew you. Everything else is different, but I should have recognized your eyes. I guess some part of me did. But you- I- I thought you were dead.”

“As you can see, I’m not dead, Brain. And for the record, your feelings were definitely not one-sided.” He reached out and cupped your cheek with one hand.

“Shit, Pinky, it really is you.”

Yancy had dreamed about how seeing you again would go in a million different ways. Not a single one of those included you practically jumping into his lap and kissing him with a lifetime's worth of love and want.

He let out an undignified whine when you broke the kiss. “Wait, wait. You knew from the second I walked in here who I was, didn’t you? You tried so hard to stop me from leaving… but then you helped me do just that. You chose to stay here when I asked you to come with me. Then I came back, and you got me to say all those things… And we’re both trans and wound up here? This is all just. So much. I can’t- I can’t do this.” You got off his lap and scooted to the far end of the bed.

“What are you saying, Y/N? That you’re leaving? Again?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

You stood up and faced him. “You do not get to play that card. You don’t know how much I went through trying to find a way to tell you I was sorry, that I didn’t know that the trip was a permanent one until we were on the other side of the country. Dad said that I'd never see mom again, and he’d kill me if I tried to get in touch with you or anyone else from back home. He broke my arm to prove he meant it. I can’t stay here to unpack all of this. I have to go. But you can come with me. I mean it even more now than I did last time. I’m not leaving you, I’m leaving here.”

You walked to the cell door and looked back at him with a sigh. “But I know you, and you have a family here. I’ll get you my address- it’s your turn to come to me, when you’re ready. I’ve waited 15 years to be with you again, what’s a little bit longer?” Without giving him a chance to respond, you kissed him again and were gone.

[tobioslune]

liquid courage

Paring: Iwaizumi Hajime x gn!reader

Genre : fluff, comfort? college au kinda, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, Iwaizumi being soft and a simp

Warnings? : implied drinking, (aged up), cursing (from the lyrics), a little smooch 

a/n: This is a draft i started in january but things happened that made me leave it for about like four months lol (if u wanna know what happened while i was writing this you can read it here lol also you could see how i wrote / continued writing it here ) but! im finally finished and im pretty proud of it even though its lowkey all over the place :>> please do check out the song bc it slaps and it’s really good lol okay that’s all for now hope you enjoy <3 (last notee: likes and reblogs are really appreciated!!)

▶ now playing : drunk - dijon 

You and Iwaizumi have been close friends since highschool, and feelings may have been caught during that time. With the reason of not wanting to ruin the relationship you’ve built with him, you tried to brush it off. And like every other trope where you fall for your best friend you expected that he wouldn’t feel the same way.

Surprisingly both of you ended up going to the same university, and you were able to hang out and keep in touch with each other. Everytime you think you’ve set those feelings aside, whenever some romantic tension presents itself, it bubbles up inside all over again. Like an annoying weed that keeps coming back no matter how hard you try to get rid of it. 

School and other work has been pressing on you for the past few months and you just keep getting into a slump. No matter how hard you try, you find yourself in the same place you were over and over again. Iwaizumi noticed this and really tried his best to help but he’s also caught up with a ton of things. 

O baby, I’m lonely and I’m fucked up by myself

 Could uu come here?!  

It was 1am on a Saturday and Mattsun called you. You were working on an essay and it was super unexpected. It was able to shake you from the somewhat trance you were in while trying to think.

“Hey y/n-san I’m so sorry to call you at such a late time and most probably not so nice notice, but is it okay if you pick-up Hajime here at our usual place? Hanamaki and the others have already left and theres a paper I need to take care of, and you’re the only one I could think of.”

“Oh, it’s okay. Did Hajime drink too much like last time?” You think to yourself, ‘How stubborn, I’ve told him last time to be mindful of how much he takes because of his low tolerance’  You found the thought quite amusing.

“He sure has. When will you be able to get here by the way?” Mattsun replies.

“Give me about 15 minutes, it’s not so far from where I live anyways. Can you keep him company for a little while longer?” you tell him. This would be able to get your mind off the stress and exhaustion you’re in hopefully for a little while. Besides you haven’t met him in person for about month so it would be nice to see him again.

“Yeahh I can do that. Thanks again by the way y/n.”

“Suree, anytime. Okay see you in a bit, bye”

“Bye.”

The train stations are already closed at this time, and it would be too much of a hassle to take a cab to and from where he lives so it probably would be best that he crash at your place instead.

You straighten a few things up in your apartment and proceed to grab a jacket, your keys, wallet and your phone, placing it into a small purse. As you closed the door you could already feel a rush of cold air surrounding you.

The walk there was quite refreshing and you felt much better than you did earlier. As you arrived there you could see Mattsun waiting in front. You smiled as you walked toward him. It took him a couple seconds to recognize you as you came into view. 

“Heyy, hope I didn’t take too long” you said as you greeted him with a hug. 

“No, it’s all good you actually arrived faster than I expected”, Mattsun replies returning your smile. 

“He’s inside by the way.” gesturing with the back of his thumb.

“Okay, I’ll go take care of it from here” 

“Thanks again, apologies if it interrupted anything important.” 

“Like I said, it's alright! I got it.” you assure him.

You both bid your goodbyes and you make your way inside the homey bar. There he was, head resting on his right hand and glass of water in the other. You figured he sobered up at least a little bit. 

You let out an amused sigh, “Oh Haj, I’ve told you a couple of times last time to watch it, right?” You took a seat in front of him, leaning your head on your hand. He laughed a little at the statement made. “Sorry y/n, got a bit caught up and forgot.” 

Letting out a low hum you respond, “Anyways, ready to go?” 

“Yeah just give me a moment.” His head was still pounding from the drinks.

I’M WASTING and I’m anxious; I’m fading from myself… 

You placed his arm around your shoulder in an attempt to keep him upright and stable as you walk. Compared to him he was obviously heavier making it difficult for you to even make it to the door, you were basically stumbling out, but somehow you were able to manage and he was at least trying to cooperate even when everything was practically hazy for him in that moment.

---------- 

You fell for him, and little did you know he did too. You’ve known Hajime as reserved, reliable, firm, caring and surprisingly stubborn at times. He knew that if he told his friends and teammates they would tease him and make it more obvious that's why he kept it in a never said a word. 

He liked you, he liked you so much, but sometimes you just seemed so out of reach to him. Loved by almost everyone, you were beautiful, charming and just overall amazing to him. There were times where he really tried to deny his feelings, his emotions, toward you but whenever another guy would be around you he just can’t help but want you all to himself.

--------

As school progressed your schedule became more hectic and your assignments started to pile up. It felt like an endless mess and an inevitable disaster. He saw how stressed you were but he felt a bit helpless because he didn't know what to do. He couldn’t really help you because of your different courses and besides he wouldn’t even know what to do. As time went on your hangouts became lesser and lesser and sometimes you'd even be too busy or even too tired to chat with him. You would try making plans but your group mates would suddenly set up meetings or deadlines would abruptly be sent and given. 

Although he has tried reaching out, because of how busy you were he was left alone with his thoughts and feelings and he tried to make sense of how he really felt. He wanted to avoid thinking of you but that became difficult for him when almost everything reminded him of you…

“They would have liked this..”, “I should probably ask if they ate.”,  “This would be such a nice gift for y/n.”,  “I wonder what they would think of this.”, it just felt like never ending thoughts of you.

---------

When Matsukawa and the rest of the old team from Seijoh offered him to hang out and catch up he couldn't say no. By going he would be able to hang out with them and it would hopefully be a distraction to help get you off his mind. He knew you were busy and in his head he thought that maybe you didn't like him the say he does. You ran circles around his mind and at time he’s just feel so conflicted and confused.

In the end he got wasted, he felt faded, and just wanted to feel ok. He accidentally ended up telling the boys out of frustration that he had feelings for someone which left him with mixed emotions at times. They found this quite surprising because who would get him so hung up and drunk like that.

COULD U COME HERE?! And say u’ll stay the night 

Although you reminded him last time you went drinking to watch his intake you were still shocked that he was so drunk he could barely think straight. The cold air and silence filled the walk and everything in some way felt alright. You felt at peace and his presence made everything feel comfortable even if you were practically carrying him.

He sighs, “Hey I'm sorry I dragged you into this mess I accidentally let myself go back there again.” 

“It's ok, I mean that's bound to happen to everyone at some point I've got you  don't worry it's fine.” you respond.

“Where are we going, by the way?” He asks.

“I'm taking you back to my place, I mean if you don't mind. The subways are closed and the taxis are hard to come by at this time.” 

“Oh ok, it's fine, I mean I have nowhere else to go to anyways and I don't really mind,”  He says with a flustered laugh.

As you keep walking you pass by a convenience store you both frequently used to hang out at when your schedules weren't so busy.

“Hey Haj, we should stop there for a while just so you could sober up a little more. Also I’m a bit hungry anyway,”  you suggest.

“Yeah good idea, besides you must be kind of tired trying to carry me around for this long.”

You both make your way to the convenience store and you tell him to sit outside while you buy something for the both of you.

 Cause it’s been a while, since I've seen u smiling! O baby, could u come down? I think I’m freaking out! And I’m drunk! 

You step inside and the warmth of the shop embraces you. You then proceed to get some meat buns, and two coffees. As you go to pay you take a glimpse outside to check up on Iwaizumi and to your surprise he was already looking at you. You quickly turn away and you feel a small blush attempting to creep up on your face, but you shake the thought away as you make it to the counter.

You finish paying and walk over to where Iwaizumi is sitting and you place the food down on the table. Handing over a meat bun and a coffee to him, you sit down and sigh in satisfaction as you bite into yours. Somewhat comfortable silence fills the space and you absentmindedly process everything that happened.

“So, how was the hang out with the guys? I haven't seen them in so long. You sure must’ve had fun...” You say in the hopes of making things a little less awkward and quiet.

“Oh yeah it was great.” He replies with his mouth still with food, you laugh and he continues after he finally swallows what he was eating.

“Yeah it was really fun, we got to catch up on a lot and they're doing pretty great I must say. You should come next time, I mean when you're not busy. I miss our hangouts, you know...” 

“Is this not a hangout?” You humorously ask.

“I mean, it is but I'm saying we should hang out more when you're not busy and when I'm not drunk.”  He says with a laugh.

“Yeah we totally should.“ You say with a smile.

“So anyways, how's life?” 

“Well I mean I'm doing ok, but overall just really stressed. Work and papers have been piling up and my head has been pounding for like weeks or maybe even just days you know, but I guess I'm doing fine.” Giving a small laugh to lighten the statement.

“Yeah the workloads really suck right now, they're crazy. But I'm here for you if you need anything even if I don’t really understand a thing from your subjects.”

“Yeah, I know.” You say giving him a reassuring grin.

You both take a brief pause when he suddenly brings up an old inside joke you both had when you were younger. You spend about an hour reliving memories, throwing around jokes, teasing each other and laughing a lot.

Sighing into a smile he says, “I really miss this. It's been a while since I've seen you smile like that.” 

“Yeah I missed our hangouts like these, this feels so great and nostalgic in a way.”

And I don’t think I can beat it, I’m paralyzed, I’m terrified of being alone!

You both clean up and start to continue your walk back to your place. All the stress you’ve been feeling earlier feels as if it has left and you feel relieved. As you both near your apartment complex, Iwaizumi stops making you turn back.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask.

“Yeah I’m good.” You then proceed to turn around, but he suddenly continues.

“Listen I need to tell you something, and I need you to promise me that we’re still going to be ok even as friends afterwards.” He says with a slight seriousness on his face

“Yeah, you can tell me anything I promise I'll still stay. I mean unless you're a criminal and you're gonna kill me.” You joke. Moving closer to him you prepare yourself a bit for whatever he would say.  “So what's up?”

He takes a breath, “I like you y/n -san.... and I'm really sorry if you don’t like me after this or if this makes anything awkward or if I made you uncomfortable in any way. I've liked you since high school and I was too scared to say anything because I thought you liked another guy--”

“--I swear even when we were younger there was something about you that just made everyone like you. You were so nice, friendly to everyone, helpful, beautiful, and so much more. You’re captivating to me… and I’m trying to use whatever’s left of this liquid courage to get this off my chest and I think I’m ready for whatever might come next.” 

Your mouth parts slightly from shock because of what he said but it slowly, turns into a huge grin.   

“Hajime, I don't know what to say…” you cut him off before he could say anything, 

“Because I like you too, and I have for such a long time.”

He lifts up his head with hope and a slight disbelief in his eyes, “You do..? You did..?!’’

“Yes..” you say with a small chuckle and a smile plastered across your face. You walk even closer until you're both mere inches away from each other. You take a relieved sigh and make eye contact with him. You wrap your arms around his neck and draw him in for a hug. He places his arms delicately around your waist hugging you back.

He slowly pulls away and cups your face ever so tenderly, pulling you in so that your lips are merely ghosting the others; and he gently kisses you. You felt as if that you were floating on clouds. His lips were so soft and warm it felt so surreal.

You both pull away and he says with a smile, “I've waited and wanted for so long to do that.”

You couldn't believe that everything that happened, actually happened. It felt like a scenario that you would only be able to play in your head. But it was all real and it was all happening. It felt like a dream, and if this were a scene in some cute drama there would have been hearts floating around your head right now, you felt lovestruck.

 Cause it’s been a while, since i’ve thought about the good things, all the bright light things all the good times that we had! It’s been a while, since I made u smile! 

You finally reach your apartment hand-in-hand, sitting down on the couch as soon as you enter. The night was filled with more conversations, laughter and just overall good times. Homework forgotten and disregarded, you let yourself go and have fun. Surprisingly everything felt like it just fell into place. 

You looked at him and maybe it was the alcohol but he was pretty sure he saw stars in your eyes. 

“I can't believe after all this time you're finally and actually mine.” you say.

Whatever magic or fate intertwined and lined you up to this exact moment you just knew that you were forever grateful.

[missroller15]

A very special date night

ok, here it finally is! I’m sorry about the delay but I got it finished and I’m actually pretty nervous to post this but here goes, I hope you all enjoy it <3333

________________________________________________________________

Finally.. It was date night. EJ and Gina couldn’t be more hyped to finally get their time together. 

Due to busy schedules (EJ in college and Gina with highschool, theater, etc.), time alone just got cut shorter and shorter. They decided enough was enough and planned for one day a month where they could both simply be together but of course, to make things a bit more interesting, one of them would choose the location while the other got to choose the meal or place to eat. 

This month, EJ was choosing where they’d go but the thing is… Gina truly had no clue what he could be planning. Usually, he’d drop a huge obvious hint but assume he didn’t just reveal but this time around, no hints or anything. 

The day finally came, a bright Friday afternoon. The sunlight beamed through Gina’s window as she yawned while stretching her arms out. Still in the process of waking up, she suddenly heard a buzz come from her phone.  

Hey, G. Sorry, I couldn't text sooner! I’m at the zoo with Big Red so I won’t be home most of today. Enjoy some of the breakfast saved in the fridge and get your game face ready for tonight with my cuz ;) 

Before Gina could respond, a second message came in putting a stop to all her suspicions. 

 And nope, can’t answer any questions! Anyways, have fuuuuun 

She let out a long sigh, so many questions rushing through her mind and the only way she could think of putting them to rest for the moment was by focusing on something else so the girl sluggishly got up and went to shower. 

 Once she was out, most of her impending questions had settled (not all were gone, to be clear though) and as she walked downstairs, yet another message came except not from Ash this time.

From EJ: Ready for one of the greatest date nights ever, babe? ;) 

A smile grew on her face as she headed to the door and found EJ waiting outside beside his car. He was leaning against it, specifically by the passenger side, most likely waiting for Gina to arrive so he could open the door for her like the incredible sweet boyfriend he is. Blush spread across her face as he noticed her coming out. 

“So, am I still not allowed to ask questions?” she joked once they were both sitting inside the car. 

“I mean, of course but this is gonna be an interesting date and honestly I’m curious to see your reaction without any ideas..” he explained as they drove. Gina raised an eyebrow but kept her thoughts to herself. While they sat in a comfortable silence, she started to try and contemplate where they could be going. The biggest hint she had was Ashlyn’s text but even then, with how vague it was, she still remained puzzled. 

Just then when they arrived, all that curiosity disappeared from her mind and she finally realized what she meant by getting her game face ready. They were about to play Laser Tag. 

As they walked in, she couldn’t help but already feel her adrenaline start to rush. She finally realized what Ash meant when she said to get her game face ready and Gina was going to do just that. 

The teams were selected by random and EJ already had their names filled out on the form so now all they had to do was wait for the announcer to begin calling out names. Gina and EJ anxiously but even more excitedly stood waiting for the announcement to come already with their hands interlocked. 

As they stood waiting, EJ leaned over to whisper something into Gina’s ear sending a chill down her back. “Just know, that if we’re on a different teams and I beat you, I will like you just the same as I do at this moment.” 

Gina scoffed at the comment and looked him dead in the eye, trying to stifle her laughter. “Don’t try to intimidate me, babe.. It’s not gonna change anything, I got my game face on now and it stays till I win.” 

He jokingly rolled his eyes at the snarky reply. Before he could respond, the announcer finally came on. 

“Ok ok ok, let’s do this! So excited to kick-off the first laser tag game of the day and as most of you already know how this goes, blah blah blah be safe. Once you’re hit, you’re done for a good ten minutes. Now anyways, now back to teams..” he quickly rambled. 

Gina glanced over at EJ who just gently squeezed her hand while they expectantly waited to hear the team names. 

“Alrighty then, let’s begin… for team red, EJ Caswell…” he started, considering the teams only consisted of six players for this round, it didn’t take long to name all the players and before they knew it, it was already time for the blue team. 

Since Gina’s name wasn’t called out for the red team, it was obvious she’d be a part of the blue team meaning that they were going to go against each other. To be honest, the idea of being able to hold the win over the other’s head enticed them both.. A lot more than they liked to admit.

The teams began to disperse and head to the main room for setting up. While in there, this time EJ shot a glance at Gina, who was zipping up her dark blue vest. She turned for a second to wink at him before returning her attention back to her team. 

EJ did the same and not too long after, the whispers and small talk went silent as everyone’s laser guns began beeping and flashing most likely because they were being turned on while the lights dimmed down. The announcer came on one last time soon after.  

“Players, prep time is over… the doors to the laser tag area are now unlocked and you may enter. Let the games begin.” 

Everyone immediately separated and went to find hiding spots. Gina immediately knew the second level was the place she needed to be. As she navigated through the dark space, something felt off… almost as if she felt a presence following behind her. 

“It’s probably just your nerves, don’t break focus”, Gina muttered under her breath. Soon enough, she began to turn a corner, that feeling came back again. She immediately began dashing and ended up finding a small pitch dark corner to hide in right by the stairs she was finding to the second level in the first place. 

Just as Gina thought, once she slipped behind the corner someone came not long after and it didn’t surprise her one bit who it was. 

“Aw man, I lost her.” EJ groaned in frustration. Gina bit the inside of her cheek to contain her laughter at seeing the poor green eyed boy mope. 

The fun ended though as he started to explore the area and he began getting dangerously close to her corner so she did the only reasonable thing a person would do if they felt threatened. 

While his back was turned, she took the opportunity and leaped onto his back. He immediately toppled over and Gina had the upper hand for the moment. Gina clapped her hand over his mouth before he could start yelling for help. 

“Shhh.. don’t fight it.” she whispered softly leaning in closer. Now she hadn’t planned for this part of the plan but he was right there.. one little peck wouldn’t do anything. 

As she slowly removed her hand from on top of his mouth, her body went into shock when he went in for the kiss. She didn’t even think twice once her brain started to function again and reciprocated. 

Her hand gently released its tight grip on the gun and Gina’s focus finally broke. They broke apart after about 30 seconds to take a breath but then Gina heard something that made her blood run cold. 

Her vest was beeping and so was her gun. 

She looked at EJ, who had a satisfied smirk resting on his face. “I thought you knew this, G. I play to win.” He said so while holding his red glowing gun up. 

Gina, shocked and possibly just a bit impressed, remained speechless. He played her at her own game and won?! Gina wasn’t gonna let this go, there was still a chance and she wasn’t going to waste it. 

In the ten minutes that Gina was out, EJ knew she would be out to get him and only him. He played an extremely dangerous move by playing Gina like that but it’s obviously what she was planning for him so if anything, at least she’ll know now that he knows most of the tricks up her sleeve. 

What scares him though is what she has left… 

Within a couple seconds, he manages to find one of his teammates and the two stuck together for a couple minutes. They found a good spot and chilled for a second after all the navigating and running. 

“So, the girl that’s currently out.. She’s your girlfriend, right?” the boy said, he looked around 14-15 but EJ couldn’t exactly tell.

“Yep and once she’s back in, we’re gonna need to hide really well.” he warned, followed by a chuckle. “You really think she’s gonna be that furious?” 

Poor kid. He really doesn’t know what she’s capable of, he thought to himself. “Oh yeah, she’s gonna be infuriated. Don’t worry though, she’s probably gonna come for me only. We’re just super competitive like that. It runs in our blood.” 

EJ glanced back to see the kid terrified. “O..k.” he let out. The conversation didn’t go much further but at least before they split off, EJ did manage to get across the fact that he was only joking. 

After a while of walking, he checked his watch and realized that Gina would be out any second. Just as he thought, not a minute after checking the time, a beep came from the speakers signaling that a player would be entering the game.. It was about to get a whole lot more dangerous than before. 

Once she was out, Gina knew exactly what EJ would be thinking.. He knew that he was her main target and that’s what he needed to get out of his head. 

So, Gina put her focus on getting his teammates out first, with the help of hers as well of course. If she was being fully honest, she really did not expect to work as well with her team as she did. They were just as cunning and competitive. 

This made Gina’s plan that much easier to complete. While waiting out her ten minutes, she had concocted a pretty simple but effective plan. 

Her teammates and some of the opposing team members were actually everyday regulars here at the lasertag so they knew the routes and pathways that the others would take. With this information, it was decided that they’d take care of their own personal friends and get them out while Gina was left to find EJ and get him out. 

Yes,it was simple but if Gina was going to win, all she needed was for it to be efficient. 

Not much time was wasted, once she got out. The beeper signaling that players were out began to go off every couple of minutes, she quietly counted while swiftly moving through the area. Out of the corner of the eye, she saw something from behind. No way, she was turning her back this time. 

She quietly and carefully walked back to the spot where she noticed something and immediately let out a breath of relief at seeing a kid resting back in the corner, his eyes shut tight. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll tell you where he is. Just please don’t tell him I told you. I can be out, it’s ok, I-” 

“Ya know, kid. I actually kinda like you for that but what did EJ tell you?! Did you really believe I was seriously out to murder him, it’s just our thing.. Don’t worry and well, if we’re bargaining here.. The best I can do is you give me EJ’s location and I’ll give you an extra ten minutes to go hide.” she explained, holding her hand out to seal the deal. 

He looked down a bit worried but shook nonetheless. He quickly whispered where he thought EJ would be hiding and ran away within a second after. 

Gina followed his instructions and slowly crept up to the second level of the arena. She knew that kid gave it up way too easily and there was no harm in being cautious so she walked towards the spot that the kid described as quietly as possible. 

Once she was there, she looked around but not carefully enough because now she was back to square one when she heard his voice. “Well, looks like my plan worked. I’m just so touched with how well you’re taking this, G.” 

“Aww Eej, you think you’re really gonna end up winning”, she started, as she turned and began slowly walking towards the proud boy, “-tsk tsk, you’re too good and naive for your own good, babe. 

EJ furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and ever so slightly,let his guard down. Rookie mistake, Gina thought as she jumped towards EJ again. He saw it coming and dodged the attack but ended up causing Gina to trip over his foot. 

She yelped at the collision with the floor. Pain shot through her wrist as she sat back up. Within a second EJ was already at her side, helping her stand. “Maybe we got a little too intense with the game..” he joked, walking to the arena exit with Gina. 

“Ya think?” she laughed, while gently massaging her palm and wrist area. Once they made it, the two returned their gear to the set-up room. There was still about a half hour of laser tag left but it was obvious, the game was done for today. 

Even if their initial idea got cut short, that didn’t mean the day was over. As EJ and Gina walked to the car, they couldn’t help but continuously chitter and chatter about all that occurred. From Gina’s surprise attack on him to EJ’s interesting conversation with the young boy. 

By then, Gina’s wrist had relaxed and the pain toned down. While they drove, the chitter chatter turned to a comfortable silence. It was just that time where words didn’t need to be said anymore. The glances, little laughs here and there, it was just really nice. 

The drive didn’t take too long and before they knew it, they’d already arrived at Ashlyn and Gina’s place.  

“So.. we’re here. Look, I’m sorry about the wrist thing and I just got a little too into it, you see when I-” His rambling got cut short by Gina pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Hey, it’s alright. It was just a game and it’s not like the day is over yet, I’d like to use up all the time I have with you today.” she smiled after breaking off the kiss. EJ proceeded to continually caress her cheek as she spoke. 

“Ok. This time, you name it though.” 

Gina decided on a movie night to end the day. 

Honestly, this month’s date night wasn’t the most planned and perfect but that’s what made it all the more fun. Both EJ and Gina couldn’t wait for the next to see what surprises were in store.

[kuiinncedes]

just the keys to paradise

jatp au - prologue - part 1/15? - 1834 words

relationships: blaine & sam & tina & artie

okkkk we're doing it 🤪 idk how regularly i will update this (omg ongoing fic??? who is she) but i do have like technically a ~few~ chapters i guess done,,, and i am working on the next so . we're gonna try this lol

anyway if it wasn't clear this is an au based on the most amazing tv show ever with only 9 episodes pls watch or rewatch it on netflix the emmy-award winning julie and the phantoms !!! 🤪

that being said if you haven't watched it what are you doing jk i think you can still read this and hopefully it makes sense 😂 feel free to ask me if there's anything that doesn't make sense lol :)

also fyi in case it influences your decision to read: this will be more focused on platonic relationships for a while but will almost certainly have main endgames klaine, quinntina, and samcedes 😋

prologue title and lyrics in this part from "now or never" from the jatp soundtrack

plot and some dialogue from julie and the phantoms so like credit to all those creators and writers 🤪

warnings for this part: car accident, major character deaths (both of these are not actually in writing/"on screen" just implied at the end (especially within the context of this being a jatp au) and nothing really described -- if you want/need more details feel free to ask me)

read on ao3 or under the cut :D

--

1995

“Dudes, we fucking killed that !” Sam cheers when the smoke has cleared, going around and giving each of them something that could be called a high-five, just not to their hands. Tina laughs and cheers too as Sam excitedly taps her feet after she gets out from behind her kit, still elevated on the drum stage. Some of the workers applaud them from the audience space.

“Too bad we wasted that on the soundcheck,” Artie jokes, putting his guitar down and grabbing his water bottle. “That was the tightest we’ve ever played, yo!”

Tina grins and hops down from the drum platform. Sam slings an arm around her shoulders and she grabs his wrist. They’re both sweaty and too warm but she doesn’t mind having Sam’s heat pressed against her right side.

God, she thinks… that really was something else, even though it was just the soundcheck. She looks around at her bandmates’ faces -- shiny with sweat, red with exhilaration and exertion, bright with elation, eyes wide with excitement and --

Wow. They’re playing the Orpheum.

Blaine pats Artie on the back, jostling him enough to spill the water he’s trying to drink down the front of his shirt, but Artie just laughs -- he’s soaked with sweat anyway. They have spare clothes backstage just for this reason.

“Just wait until tonight, guys, when this place is packed with record execs,” Blaine says, looking out wonderingly into the empty (for now) audience. His grin widens almost imperceptibly, which is impressive considering how huge it already is.

“We’re gonna be legends!” the other three of them chorus, before Blaine can, and they laugh when he turns to them, affronted. “That’s my line!”

“It’s what you get for saying it ten times a day for the last month!” Tina teases. Blaine pushes her shoulder playfully, putting his hand within reach for Sam to grab. It’s a strange position considering Sam’s arm is still around Tina’s shoulders, but Tina adds her hand to their hold as Sam beckons Artie over from his side of the stage, barking out his name with joking anger.

Artie puts his water down and walks over to complete the group, placing his hand on top of Tina’s. “Tina, you were smokin’,” he says.

She rolls her eyes a little and grins back. “Pretty sure you’re just talking about the pyro. You guys were the ones on fire,” she says, pointing her drumsticks around at them.

“T, can you just own your awesomeness for once?” Blaine exclaims.

“Queen T!” Sam calls, pulling her closer into his side. She stumbles into him, laughing as the guys all start cheering it after Sam.

“Okay, okay! Thanks, guys, I got it!” she squeals, trying to get them to quiet down although -- they are in the Orpheum, where they’re playing later, it’s not like they have to be quiet -- while Sam leans his weight on her, causing them to stagger into the drum riser. Tina catches herself on it and Sam finally detaches from her and they’re still being loud and raucous and probably somewhat annoying to the staff, but she’s just laughing too hard to care.

“We’ve got an hour ‘til the show; I say we go celebrate before we become legends!” Blaine proclaims, jumping off the stage. The other three follow.

Tina starts, “Celebrate our last night of being -- ”

“Losers?” Artie interjects.

They’ve caught the attention of one of the Orpheum workers -- a woman with brown hair who’s wiping down the tables, smiling at them as Tina catches her eye. “There’s some nice restaurants around here,” she says with a wink. “You guys really killed it, by the way. But it seems like you know that.”

Blaine laughs, a little sheepishly. “Thanks. Uh, I’m Blaine,” he says. “This is -- ”

“Sam, hi!”

“Tina, how’s it going -- ”

“Artie, hey.”

Tina raises her eyebrows and stifles a laugh at Artie as he leans his sweaty arms onto the table that the woman just cleaned.

“We’re Sunset Curve!” Blaine says to complete their introduction.

“Tell your friends!” Sam calls, raising his voice and drawing the other workers’ attention to them. Tina elbows him lightly in the side.

“Nice to meet you,” the stranger says. “I’m Elle. So… what were you guys thinking for this -- what was it -- ‘celebration of your last night as losers’?”

“Well, we really can’t afford any nice places -- ” Sam starts.

“Oh, you know what? We should just go to Tip Top!” Blaine says, clapping his hands together. The others are quick to agree -- it’s the small, cheap diner where they spent the evening after their first “real” gig, and they’ve spent countless hours there since, annoying the staff and depleting their supply of plastic silverware. The employees there have learned to let them take what they legally can (and sometimes what they couldn’t), and the band is friendly with most of them. They haven’t been there in too long, having been working hard to get the Orpheum gig, and then writing and rehearsing like crazy once they got it.

Elle smiles as they excitedly and loudly recount stories of Tip Top to each other -- sentimental memories and the ridiculousness they got up to -- talking over each other and having multiple conversations at once.

“I guess you don’t need my recommendations?” she says lightly.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, we’re good, thanks so much for offering,” Blaine answers, polite as ever.

“Have fun! Looking forward to seeing you guys perform again tonight.”

“Thank you!” the four of them exclaim as they make their way back to the exit. Tina yanks on the back of Artie’s shirt as he lingers at the table, a dumb look on his face that tells her he’s trying to flirt, or at least, his version of it.

“Tina!” Artie yelps and she laughs at the annoyed look on his face.

“You are not exempt from this last night of loser-dom celebration. You’re telling me you’d rather flirt with a girl than this?”

“Yes,” Artie grumbles. There’s no heat behind it, and Tina playfully pushes him sideways.

“Plus, we need you to drive.”

“You can drive!”

“Technically we all can drive!” Tina laughs at Artie’s horrified expression, probably at the prospect -- and memory -- of the one time Blaine drove them to a gig. “Just not your car!” she calls, jogging to catch up with Blaine and Sam, Artie running after her. “Your car is the fucking worst.”

“Don’t talk about her like that!”

“Blaine and Sam agree!”

That gets their attention and the two guys turn, Blaine asking, “What are we agreeing with?”

“I agree with Tina,” Sam says immediately. Tina nods gratefully at him.

“You don’t even know what we’re talking about!” Artie complains.

They’re at his beat-up car now and they pile in, Tina in the passenger seat laughing as Sam all but tackles Blaine into the backseat when he starts for the driver’s side, jostling her and Artie in the front. They continue shuffling around while Artie attempts to start the car, to many concerning -- but normal for his car -- noises.

“This thing is gonna go down and take us with it, Artie,” Tina mumbles teasingly, absentmindedly twirling a drumstick in her right hand. (She realizes too late that she probably should’ve left them at the Orpheum, but it’s not a big deal -- they’re not her favorite pair which are safe in their studio and she has extras backstage in case something happens to this pair while they’re out.)

The car finally starts with a rumble and Artie lets out a cheer. “We’re fine, T. Let’s go, y’all!”

“Floor it, Artie!” Sam calls from the back. The car accelerates comically slowly even as Artie presumably “floors it,” but they’re going somewhere.

After a few minutes, Tina finds herself unconsciously humming her solo in the bridge of “Now or Never,” only noticing when Sam interjects suddenly with his “Tomorrow!” leaning between the front seats and slightly startling her. She laughs and continues with the words, “‘Cause we got all we need today! ”

“Today!” Artie echoes, miming his guitar playing with one hand on the steering wheel.

“Living on a feeling that’s been running through our veins!” Blaine sings loudly, joining Sam in crowding into the front of the car.

“We’re the revolution that’s been singing in the rain!” It’s Sam’s line, but they all belt it at the top of their lungs together.

“That’s my line!” Sam exclaims at the same time that Blaine cheers, “My favorite line!” Tina continues to clap the beat for the next part of the song, Artie hitting the steering wheel in rhythm with her. Her face hurts from smiling.

“Artie, dude, where’d you go?” Blaine asks suddenly. Tina looks around at their slowly darkening surroundings that are completely unfamiliar. Slight panic rises in her stomach but she swallows it down; she’s with her boys, they’re safe, just a little lost.

Sam bursts out in uproarious laughter as Artie complains, “You guys distracted me!”

“Told you I should’ve driven!” Blaine says. He leans forward again and Sam follows. Tina stays quiet, pressing herself against the door a little to make room; her boys aren’t that much better but she’s always been completely hopeless with navigation and directions.

“You would’ve gotten even more distracted from singing and veered us right into a fucking building,” Artie grumbles, but he obeys as Blaine directs him to turn left and chooses to ignore his comment.

“Safe driving, am I right, dudes?” Sam cackles as he returns to the backseat, and Tina can’t help but laugh with him. “We’re gonna miss our gig, that’s how we’ll be legends!”

“‘Sunset Curve Skips Orpheum Showcase For No Reason’?” Tina suggests, turning around in her seat to face Sam.

He points at her. “Exactly. Or, 'Sunset Curve Skips Orpheum Showcase Because They Don't Know How To Drive.' The end of a promising career,” he jokes somberly. “No one would ever book them again.”

They fall silent and only the mutters of Blaine and Artie fill the car, along with the loud engine.

“Still haven’t figured it out yet?” Sam groans loudly, laying on his back across the backseats as Blaine is leaning awkwardly out of his seat to help Artie navigate.

“Not like you’re helping!” Artie says.

“That’s the street!” Blaine exclaims, pointing ahead. “The next intersection.”

“Give it up for Mr. Blaine Anderson, everyone,” Artie drawls, speeding up the car a little bit. “Perhaps not able to drive, but navigator extraordinaire.”

“You chose the wrong career path, dude,” Sam says, propping himself up on one elbow to clap Blaine’s shoulder. “Like, songwriting?”

Blaine looks down at him, raising an eyebrow. “Songwriting?” He gestures for Sam to continue.

Sam shrugs, sitting up finally. “Just, you know, songwriting, bro…" His gaze suddenly shifts and fixes at a point beyond Tina. "What th-- that car Artie!”

Tina snaps her gaze away from Sam just in time to see him yank Blaine down into his seat and the set of blinding headlights through the car windows in her periphery.

---

as a final note, i'm not sure if it can be seen this way but i'm not trying to erase artie's disability or anything and i believe i'm not doing that; as you might be able to guess, the car accident at the end of this is what paralyzes him, like in glee canon but just several years later (in his life not in actual time). please let me know if any aspect of this is disrespectful or anything <3

[mysmegrace]

hey love, how are you? i was wondering if you could do mc (any gender) and 707 going on a dinner date:)

hello love, i'm excellent (bc of u). of course i can, anything for you :3 i've decided to use they/them pronouns in this fic so it's easier for people to insert their own pronouns and gendered language as well as it being applicable to more people yknow. anyway i hope i did this justice <3

summary: saeyoung and mc got out to dinner to end the day. unbeknown to mc, saeyoung has a surprise to ask you.

words: 1.8k

Elly The Fourth (707 x MC)

---

you knew saeyoung had a tendency of being late, sometimes he’d even push it to the 15-20 minute mark. you vividly remember telling him about it in the past, but you two always came to an agreement. after all, you couldn’t stay mad when he’d grab the cat ears he had laying around, putting them on while puckering his lips to express false innocence.

however, he had failed to hold up your previous agreement of “if you are to be late, let me know beforehand”. passing a new number on the clock every time you looked up, the restaurant continued to populate with no sign of the man you longed for. boy would you let him have it this time.

you needed something new as a form of punishment. something that would make him stick to your agreements. maybe the silent treatment, or perhaps you’d whip him with the belt he spent a ridiculous amount of money on? “wait no... that wouldn’t end well on my end” you thought as your memories reminded you of his sadistic nature.

while trying to come to a consensus, the vermillion haired man entered the establishment. showing off his typical goofy, yet tender, smile as he eyed your sitting position down. you could hear the clicking of his shoes coming closer, but paid no attention as you had heard that the entire evening from strangers surrounding you.

“boo!” you hear suddenly, almost springing out of your seat, partially convinced your heart would jump out of your chest for a split second. however you had no time to take in sudden scare as your body instantly started to heat up. he arrived 25 minutes late and has the audacity to make his grand entrance by frightening you?

being met with silence on his end, he decides to quickly break the tension. “sorry i’m late, it was an accident” he says, only telling half of the truth. it was an accident in the fact that he was late and didn’t intend on being, but wasn’t an accident in the sense that he knew what he was doing beforehand.

however, he would keep that a secret until the time was right. surprises are better if they’re unexpected after all. snapping out of his thoughts, he noticed how your lips haven’t dared to move in the few minutes he’s been here. trying to come up with ways to lighten the mood while getting a response from you, he says “i’m really sorry. please forgive me and talk to me. it was for a good reason, i promise. you’ll find out soon enough”.

watching as your eyes softened and your posture lightened exactly when he was now eye level with you, he takes it as a sign to continue on with the original plan. only hoping your body language was from you being convinced by his words rather than because of your growing disappointment towards him. going to take the seat across from you, you answer “saeyoung, we’ve talked about this. why were you so late?”.

“babe, i can’t tell you yet. it’s a secret, please understand. let’s enjoy what i have planned for now and we can talk about it later, please?” he answered quickly, not giving a moment for him to accidently spill the beans. after a few seconds, he saw the look on your face as you decided to give into his proposal and make amends later.

for the next hour, tonight would strictly be about you two. he loves nothing more. once you give your verbal agreement, he gives back a small smile. one that reads of gratitude. calling the waiter over, you both receive your menus. 

the food all looked so good, but it wasn’t something he’d want everyday. that kind of taste isn’t much appealing to him. after all, he only chose the restaurant because of your open wish to eat there one day. hence why in classic saeyoung style, he decided on honey garlic chicken wings. commoner food, as jumin would say. honey garlic chicken wings, honey buddha chips, close enough.

on the contrary, you were in awe at the food selection. as long as you ate a few things off the menu, you could die happy. yet shock consumed you when your eyes glided across to check out the price. it was incredibly expensive. guilt started eating you up by the second.

you couldn’t ask him to get you something, it was simply too much. your conscience wouldn’t let you. unbeknownst to you, saeyoung noticed your sudden distress. he could read you like the back of his hand. “what’s the matter?” he asked.

taken aback, you responded “well.. everythings so expensive.” you had tried to mask your emotions in the moment, but to no avail. you should’ve known better than to think your love wouldn’t have his eyes on you 24/7. 

saeyoung could sense that was the issue. you had always been hesistant about spending other peoples money, however that just made him love you more. attempting to calm your worries, he says “don’t worry about it. you know i get paid well”.

you paused, thinking about his statement. “i know, but you should put that money towards savings. after all your work is illegal” you respond, after giving it a half-assed thought. your eyes peered up to find the love of your life smirking, just before replying “pshh, laws are just words on a paper”.

you had to admit, that was a playful thing for him to say. so far he had succeeded in his plans of lightening the mood, it being confirmed when you returned his reply with a giggle. god he loved hearing that giggle.

calling the waiter over again, you two placed your orders. meaning now you both were participating in the waiting game. in saeyoung’s mind, this was a perfect opportunity. he would have at least 20 minutes to explain everything he had been planning to.

so, he starts to go for it. opening by saying “so, about why i was late earlier.” now he had your full attention as you were dying to hear his reasoning so you could decide whether or not an ass whooping would be an acceptable punishment for this evenings occurrence.

“i had booked an appointment to sign some paperwork, but the appointment got moved 30 minutes. i didn’t have a choice but to leave you waiting. and i was too caught up in the moment to let you know beforehand” he continued, giving you a second to take in his words.

yet your mind began racing with questions. what paperwork? why did he need an appointment? why would he plan it for today? you left no time to waste before you let the questions out, not wanting to waste a single second.

perfect, he thought. you were going along with what he had planned out to happen beforehand. giving you your much deserved answers, he continues “well, i needed to do it today so i could give you a proper surprise. i never want you to be in any unnecessary stress, hence why i did everything in advance.”

he left you hanging for no more than a second. he loved being able to see the face you made while you were practically on the edge of your seat. he also loved the dramatic effect, the one he’d never be able to nail unless he were an experience actor. nevertheless, it was fun to try.

so to finish his statement, he lets the secret free, exclaiming “since we both have an undying love for cats, i’ve decided to adopt one. we pick her up tomorrow” giving a genuine, ever so loving, smile at the end of the long awaited sentence.

focused on your end of the table, his heart nearly exploded seeing your face go from suspense to pure joy. he couldn’t ask for anything more. you had began to let out an excited scream, only to contain yourself once the table next to you started to stare. however that didn’t stop you picking yourself up to meet the red head sitting across from you, smiling like a saint.

pulling him into a hug, you whispered “we’re really adopting a cat?” as your lips stood 2 inches away from his ear. his head pulled back from the embrace for a quick moment, only to confirm your statement with a nod of happiness. 

standing there in pure bliss, fantasizing about your new life with your fur baby, you found yourself nearing crying from the overwhelming announcement. only to be brought back to reality once the waiter arrived with your meals. you pulled away, only slightly embarrassed, to become your feast.

“i’m glad you’re so excited” saeyoung spoke. god was all too good to him, he thought. you smiled, softly replying “thank you”. your eyes glanced up from your newly delivered meal to find your lover looking no different than a child being delivered delicious ice cream.

“shall we begin our meal then, 606?” he proposed. you nod, picking up the utensil placed to your right. creating the passage way for the two of you to continue your night full of bliss, no more, no less.

as you silently decided against an ass whooping as reasonable punishment.

BONUS: *on the way home*

“saeyoung” you begin, feeling the once scorching sun hit your revealed arm. “do you have a picture of our future daughter?” you ask. after receiving a gentle laugh, your eyes are met with your loves phone. once inspecting the picture, you could feel yourself melt on the spot.

“she’s adorable, isn’t she?” saeyoung asked, taking a notice of the way your eyes lit up like stars at midnight. with an aggressive yet playful nod of confirmation, in the next second he could feel the way your body pushed into his side, your arms wrapping around his torso.

“thank you so much” you let out, barely being heard from muffling yourself in your lovers flesh. although you couldn’t see it, you had a sense of saeyoungs current facial expression.

one full of excitement, love, passion, and warmth. he would treat this cat like his child, you were positive of it. and on the plus side, jumin wouldn’t have to worry about saeyoung trying to get a hold of elizabeth now.

in that moment, almost as if he heard your thoughts, he says “we should name her elizabeth the fourth, elly for short!”. there was the silly, child-like man you loved, you thought. 

for the remainder of the late hours, you would be convincing saeyoung not to name her any variation of the name elizabeth the third. you knew for a fact that letting that name slide would result in a lawsuit by the morning. 

elly the fourth did sound cute though... perhaps you should propose keeping it as a nickname for times jumin isn’t present. 

---

3:07 AST - 07/22/21

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 14

part 1 | part 13 | part 15

A/N: Just a warning, if you all hop in my asks saying Y/N x Katara Rights!! i’ll cut you :) so this chapter is kind of a filler and was so hard to write?? but it’s needed because of literally one part and you’ll know what it is when you read it. Also, Katara and Y/N separately have One Brain Cell that serves as impulse control but when they’re together they cancel out and they would rather die than think.

Y/N couldn’t sleep that night. They had all decided to turn in early since Sokka wanted them up at the crack of dawn, but Y/N couldn’t stop tossing and turning, thinking about the little village on the water down below them that was suffering so much. Suffering because of her nation. Their nation. Katara was right, she felt cold and heartless doing nothing, but Y/N wasn’t sure of what she even could do for them.

Seeing the rundown fishing village was the worst part of their journey so far. Y/N had never imagined in her wildest dreams that there were Fire Nation citizens living in such poverty. At home, in Capital City, a pretty picture was painted of all the towns in their nation, even towns like this one, where steel mills were built to provide their armies with weapons; actually, especially these towns.

“Look at this place. We have to do something!” Katara said as soon as they stepped onto one of the docks. 

Sokka stopped in his tracks. “Uh no, we can’t waste our time here. We have a bigger mission we need to focus on. These people are on their own.” He waved his hands, signifying the end of the discussion. 

However, Katara was just getting started. Aang and Y/N shared an uncomfy look as the two Water Tribe siblings began arguing. “These people are starving, but you’d turn your back on them? How could you be so cold and heartless?”

“I’m not turning my back!” Sokka said defensively. “I’m just being realistic. We can’t go around helping every rinky-dink town we wander into. We’ll be helping them all by taking out the Fire Lord.”

“Hey, Loudmouth!” Toph smacked a hand over Sokka’s lips. “Maybe we should be a little quieter when we talk about ‘taking out the Fire Lord’.” 

“Katara, be reasonable about this,” Sokka said quietly. “Y/N gets it.”

At the sound of her name, Y/N looked up from where she was dragging her sandal between the slats of wood, trying to become invisible. Katara and Sokka both looked at her expectantly. “Katara, I’m sorry but I think Sokka is right.” She frowned at her own words. “The mission needs to come first. It will help everyone in the long run.”

“Let’s just get what we need and go.” Aang tried to sound upbeat but everyone knew he was just trying to defuse any more arguments. 

Sokka laid out his schedule across their campsite right over Y/N’s lap. As Toph, Aang and Katara bent mud out of the river’s water and boiled it to drink, Sokka and Y/N peered over the paper. She couldn’t read any of Sokka’s messy handwriting but she was able to get the gist of things with the copious color coding. Sokka was crouching over her shoulder mumbling to himself. 

She turned to him. “Does it ever stop?” She asked.

Sokka grunted, “Huh?” he continued to look over the schedule, tracing the lines with a finger. 

“That little hamster-weasel running on the wheel that powers that brain of yours. Does he ever stop?”

Sokka narrowed his eyes and stood up, completely ignoring her which made her giggle. “Because we spent the whole day here, we’re going to have to wake up every morning forty-three minutes earlier to make it to the Fire Lord in time for the invasion.”

“Forty-three minutes,” Katara deadpanned. 

“Well I’m not waking up early,” Toph said, lying back on the dirt.  

Y/N reached up and yanked on the hem of Sokka’s tunic until he paid her attention. “Yeah, me either, bud. I don’t get up before that sun rises.”

“Then we’re just going to have to take potty breaks with food breaks.” 

There was a chorus of, “ewww” from the rest of the group but Sokka looked unperturbed. “It’s efficient!! It doesn’t matter, we have to leave first thing in the morning.” Sokka rolled up his schedule and stomped off to his sleeping bag leaving the four of them to wonder how he became the one in charge.

---

Y/N couldn’t sleep that night. They had all decided to turn in early since Sokka wanted them up at the crack of dawn, but Y/N couldn’t stop tossing and turning, thinking about the little village on the water down below them that was suffering so much. Suffering because of her nation. Their nation. Katara was right, she felt cold and heartless doing nothing, but Y/N wasn’t sure of what she even could do for them.

Y/N sighed and turned over for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night. She grimaced as her shoulder rolled right onto her hair, yanking it painfully from her scalp. She sat up pulling her hair around to the front. She’d never thought much about it before, always putting it in a braid to keep it out of her face while sparring. Now that she was walking around the Fire Nation with it down all the time to hide her identity, she was much more aware of it. She couldn’t remember the last time it was cut, it was as long as Katara’s and the humidity had made it wavy. It was heavy and thick and always made her hot when the sun was shining. 

She ran her fingers through it a couple times, pulling at some tangles (that was another downside to it being down all the time) then slid out of her sleeping bag. She padded quietly barefooted past Toph, who was next to her and walked in the direction of the village. She climbed a little hill and sat with her knees pulled up in the grass overlooking the small water town. Thick black smoke billowed from the towers, even though it was well into the night. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Y/N jumped at the sudden voice but settled as Katara sat next to her, pressing their arms together. “Sorry.”

“I see that you couldn’t either.”

“Every time I close my eyes I see those villagers,” Katara mused. 

“Me too.”

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows. “I thought you agreed with Sokka on leaving them to deal with everything on their own.”

“I was wrong,” Y/N admitted. “I think I wanted to ignore what was happening because I didn’t want to believe that my nation would let this happen, but it’s right in front of my eyes. They let these people down. I want to help in some way.” 

“Do you have a plan?” Katara was smiling now. 

Y/N smirked. She hadn’t known the girl for long, but it was like their minds had already melded. “Kind of. But I think I need the help of a really powerful waterbender.”

---

“My mom used to tell me stories about the spirits,” Y/N used her thumb to wipe a line of red paint down Katara’s chin. They were sitting on the edge of the bank near the muddy water. The tiny village was across from them, quiet for the night. “There was one that was my favorite and she was called The Painted Lady. Close your eyes–” Y/N wiped the red paint over Katara’s eyelids and made curling lines over cheekbones. “–she was a river spirit. It’s the best persona you could have for where we are. If anyone sees you they’re going to think that’s who you are.” She wiped the leftover paint on her skirt. 

Katara donned the wide brimmed hat they had found and Y/N helped her position the lace netting around her face. Y/N pulled the hood of her black cloak up and she hopped in one of the canoes. She crouched down on the bench as Katara created a mist to hide the boat and began to bend the water around them and push them towards the factory. 

It took most of the night to distribute the food they had stolen. The boat was only so big and two trips had to be made to get enough which made it all more risky but both of the girls knew that it would all be worth it in the end. When they reached the shore Y/N collapsed with fatigue on the sand while Katara washed the paint off with clean water. 

Katara sat down heavily next to her. She sighed but she was clearly pleased with what they had done. 

“Katara… I need your help with something.”

---

“Are you sure you want to cut it all off?”

Katara hovered over Y/N’s shoulder holding the blade Y/N had stolen from Sokka’s bag when she stole his cloak. Slowly, she reached out and touched a few strands of hair at Y/N’s back.

Y/N nodded. “Right here.” She pointed to her shoulder. She stared straight ahead into the water as she spoke, not trusting herself to look back at her friend. “Hair is our honor. I know it’s silly, it feels so stupid to be so attached to something so insignificant like hair, but I just couldn’t do it before. I think I still believed in the back of my mind that I could go back; that I could be accepted back. But, not anymore. And I don’t think I want to. Not until it’s some place I can be proud of again. I cannot have honor in a nation I don’t even find honorable. I need redemption for myself. I need to prove to myself that I am not like them anymore. And step one is cutting all ties,”–Y/N took a deep breath–”so get to cutting.”

---

The next morning, Y/N woke to shouting. Before she was able to even see clearly she had jumped to her feet and grabbed her sword. Only then did she realize it was Sokka yelling. 

“What’s going on you guys?” Y/N rubbed her sleep bleary eyes. Katara and her had walked back with the sun on the horizon. Neither one of them could have gotten more than an hour of sleep. 

“Appa’s sick! It’s awful!” Sokka wailed.

Y/N reached over and patted the sky bison on the snout. He gave a large groan as if to emphasize he wasn’t feeling well. “Aw, poor guy.”

“I didn’t know you cared so much, Sokka,” Toph said as she scratched under Appa’s chin.

“We might as well just throw out the whole schedule!” One look at the others, who were glaring in his direction, sent him stumbling forward to hug Appa’s huge neck. “And I’m concerned because my big furry friend doesn’t feel well.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Y/N rolled her eyes in Katara’s direction.

Sokka did a double take. “Your hair.”

Y/N reached up to touch the ends self-consciously. “Yeah.”

“Who’s hair?” Toph asked.

“Y/N cut her hair!” Aang exclaimed. 

Toph’s glassy eyes widened. “How short!?” 

“It’s at my shoulders,” Y/N replied. 

“When did you cut it?” Sokka furrowed his brow.

Y/N shrugged. “Last night.”

Before Sokka could ask more questions, Katara broke in. “I think we should head into town for some medicine for Appa.” 

---

Y/N walked in the back of the group next to Katara. “How did you… you know?” She cocked her head back in the direction of their camp.

Katara smiled mischievously. “I found these purple berries and fed Appa a ton of them. He just has a stomach ache.” Both of them began giggling which earned them a suspicious look from Sokka. 

“What are you laughing about?” 

“Nothing!” Y/N waved a hand around her. “We’re talking about how much the village has changed.”

Indeed the village was much livelier due to the food Katara and Y/N had delivered. And like Y/N suspected, they all thought it was because of The Painted Lady. Shoe had commended her for bringing them food in the night. When they found out that there was no medicine in the town, Y/N knew what Katara had planned for the extra night they were going to have to stay. 

---

Sokka had ignored Y/N the whole day. If he had done so a few weeks ago, she wouldn’t have thought for a second about it. But now, they were friends, they sparred every evening but even when they weren’t sparring they still talked. She watched him plan for the invasion or he watched her and Katara make dinner. 

Silence had never been so deafening. 

And finally the silence was broken during dinner. 

“You said that you went and cut your hair in the middle of the night.” 

The spoon that was halfway between her bowl and her lips almost slipped through her fingers. “Yeah, so?” Y/N asked. 

“Well, Shoe said that The Painted Lady was delivering food to the village in the middle of the night but you didn’t say anything about seeing her.”

“I didn’t see her,” Y/N said defensively. “I’m not sure why you’re interrogating me.” 

“I’m not interrogating, just wondering.”

Y/N watched as Sokka went back to eating his dinner like nothing happened. She narrowed her eyes at him. There was only one reason why he would be asking such weird questions...

“I just think it’s a little weird that you cut your hair in the middle of the night.”

A shot of anger coursed through Y/N’s body. She couldn’t stop herself from leaning forward. “Sokka, go ahead and ask it because I know you’re dying to.”

“Are you The Painted Lady?”

“No,” Y/N dropped her bowl next to the fire. “I’m going for a walk.” 

“I’m coming too!” Toph chirped.

Y/N turned back to look at the girl. “No, you’re not.”

“Too late, Not Painted Lady.” She was already pushing Y/N’s back, guiding them away from the campsite. 

---

“You know I’m really not The Painted Lady,” Y/N said. She began to balance herself on a pointy rock but thought better of it when she felt it begin to shift underneath her. She sent a dirty look in Toph’s direction.

“I know, but Katara is. And there’s no way she knew about an obscure Fire Nation spirit.”

“Um...”

“You guys weren’t necessarily quiet when you came back this morning.”

“Riiight.” Y/N bit her lip. “You’re not going to tell Sokka are you?”

“What Sokka doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Y/N sighed, relieved. “Thank you, Toph.”

“You’ll owe me of course.” Toph began to balance herself on the same rock, Y/N had just been on. 

Y/N laughed. “Owe you?”

“Yeah. Like, sometime, someday I’ll come to you and you owe me for keeping your secret.” Toph grinned. 

“I’m going to come to regret this, I think.”

“Probably.”

---

Y/N stayed behind that night. Sokka had been too suspicious of her and besides there wasn’t much she could do while Katara healed all of the sick villagers. The next night, however, Katara shook her awake after only a few hours of sleep. She held a finger to her lips and led her away from the campsite, far enough so they could talk without being heard. 

“I need your help tonight,” she whispered.

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. “What are you thinking of doing?”

Katara’s eyes were wide. “Sokka was right. These villagers need to be able to help themselves but they can’t while that factory is still polluting their water.”

“Oh, you’re gonna–”

“Yeah, we’re going to blow it up.”

“I’ll get my sword.”

---

Y/N sure wasn’t expecting Aang to be so open to the idea of ecoterrorism considering his usual passive nature, but he was a big help with destroying the factory. They were lucky that he had woken up and caught them when they were leaving. 

The sun was shining when the three of them got back and it was already starting to warm up. Y/N had her black cloak thrown over her shoulder and she was laughing at something Aang had said. 

“–and when you unscrewed those screws with your sword and water came bursting out and flooded the whole floor.” Aang made an explosion noise and started giggling all over again. 

Katara shushed them both. “Quiet, we don’t want to wake Sokka up–oh hey… Sokka.”

Y/N tucked her cloak behind her back but the damage was already done. “We were just out on a morning swi–”

“Walk,” Katara corrected. Y/N bit her tongue. How had she almost said swim? Swim?! The river was literally polluted with probably dangerous levels of chemicals and she had almost said they went swimming in it. 

“I know you’re The Painted Lady, Y/N! I know you’ve been sneaking out at night and helping the villagers but I didn’t think that you would recruit my sister to help you!”

Y/N was taken aback at the anger that was radiating off of him. It was so different than just a few days earlier when they were sitting in Appa’s saddle joking with one another. As a matter of fact, Y/N wasn’t sure he’d ever shown this much outward fury to her when he hated her. 

“Sokka, leave her alone!” Katara stepped in. 

Y/N grabbed her arm and pulled her back. It was better for him to be mad at her than his sister. “No, it’s fine. He’s right. I shouldn’t have done it.”

Sokka was fuming. “You put this whole mission at risk while you were off being reckless. We’re leaving right now.”

Normally she might have said something to defend herself but instead Y/N just bumped their shoulders together as she walked past him. She packed her bags silently and rolled her sleeping bag before tossing it all into Appa’s saddle. 

Her feelings were hurt that Sokka would think that she would intentionally put them in harm’s way or mess up their mission. But something about his anger seemed misplaced; like there was more to it all. She could have expected that reaction if she had gotten caught, but she hadn’t been. As Y/N tried to rack her brain to figure out what made him tick she heard a buzzing out on the river. Even from where she was standing she could see the Fire Nation soldiers from the factory riding jet skis towards the village. 

“Oh no. No, no, no.” Y/N ran to the cliff overlooking the village and fell to her belly. Katara dropped down next to her and Sokka and Aang on her other side. 

Toph came up last. “What’s going on?”

Y/N watched in horror as the Fire Nation soldiers rode up alongside the dock and jumped off their jet skis. They began to approach the large group of villagers who had come outside to see what the noise was about. 

“What did you do?!” Sokka accused Y/N. She shook her head, unable to speak.

“We destroyed their factory,” Katara muttered.

“You what?!” Sokka yelled.

“It was your idea!” Katara yelled back at him.

“It doesn’t matter whose idea!” Y/N shot to her feet. “I’ve got to help them.”

“You can’t!” Sokka grabbed her wrist to keep her from running away. He was holding on a little too tightly and Y/N desperately wanted to yank out of his grip. She looked at his wild eyes and it finally clicked what the other emotion was. He was scared. Afraid that they were going to get hurt. Afraid that she was going to get hurt. “Those soldiers are out for blood. They want revenge.”

“Well, she’s not going alone!” Katara ripped Sokka’s hand off of Y/N. “We can’t turn our back on people who need us.”

---

Katara and Y/N ran side by side down the trail that led to the water. “I’ll go buy some time. You go put on The Painted Lady costume. If the soldiers think that this village is protected by her they’re less likely to come back.” 

“Got it,” Katara ran off in the direction she had stashed her cloak and hat. 

“I’m coming with you,” Sokka panted as he ran down the hill followed by Toph and Aang. 

“I thought you wanted to leave them,” she retorted. Y/N was done being nice if he wasn’t going to be.  

“I’m not going to leave you.” Sokka held her gaze. “Or Katara,” he added quickly. 

Y/N blinked. “Oh. Okay, come on.” She pushed one of the canoes into the water. “Aang, can you push us over to that dock there?” She pointed to a deserted dock on the back side of the village. The soldiers wouldn’t see them there. “And then go help Katara.”

“You got it!” He said brightly.

“What do I do?” Toph asked, clearly feeling a bit left out. 

“Go make scary spirit noises for Katara,” Sokka instructed.

“Ugh, okay.” Toph ran off among the rocks and cliffs. 

---

Aang used water bending to push their canoe. They each grabbed the wooden dock and hauled themselves up it, their boat floating under the dock and off with the current. No going back now. Sokka and Y/N snuck up to the back of the group of villagers and caught the tail end of whatever the soldier had been telling them. 

“–destroyed our factory! We’re going to cure the world of this wretched village.”

Y/N pushed her way to the front of the group. “No you’re not.” She held her hands in loose fists by her side. She was itching for her sword but she had left it at camp in her rush to get here. 

“And who’s going to stop me?” the large soldier taunted. 

Y/N didn’t spare a second thought. She leapt forward and punched him in the chest twice. The armor made her knuckles ache and sent reverberations up her arms. She ducked under a flaming punch from him and kicked his kneecap. He grunted and fell to his knee. He reached forward and before she could jump away, grabbed one of her ankles, pulling her feet out from under her. She shrieked and twisted midair, landing on her shoulder. 

That’s when a boomerang came from behind her, looping around to hit the soldier in the back of head, only to be caught again by it’s master. It only gave Sokka enough time to pull Y/N to her feet, because the soldier barely flinched. Agni, his head must be thick, Y/N thought. 

The soldier pulled back his fist ready to throw fire at them when it was quickly stifled by a stiff breeze that whipped Y/N’s hair around her face. 

He tried again, only for his fire to be blown out again. He growled and went to try a third time. He was interrupted by another soldier. “Uh, boss? What’s that?” He pointed in the direction that the wind came from. A large wall of fog was moving their way. In the distance, there was a rhythmic thumping that could only be a large boulder being lifted and dropped over and over again on the ground; and Y/N was sure she could hear Appa growling as well. 

The fog parted and Y/N could see Katara standing between two rolling, white clouds. Then, she was moving towards the dock at frightening speed, gliding over the water like she was flying. She landed gracefully and stood there staring at two soldiers in front of her. 

“Come on, let’s move the people further back.” Y/N patted Sokka’s shoulder and the two of them guided the villagers further back onto the platform to keep them out of harm’s way. 

Behind her, Y/N heard a yelp and two of the soldiers ran back to their jet skis and drove off without another thought. Only after they left did their swords hit the deck with a clang, evidently bent out of their hands by Aang and thrown to the sky.

“Stand your ground!” Their leader shouted. Katara bent the water around two more of their jet skis and lifted them high in the air. Y/N watched in complete awe as she threw them sideways into the face of the cliff where they exploded on impact. The rest of the soldiers sprinted back to their jet skis leaving their leader alone. 

“I’ll take care of this myself,” he growled. It was like it all happened in slow motion. He created a whip of fire and bent it at Katara. Y/N was sure it was going to hit her, she didn’t even move to block it. Y/N gripped Sokka’s arm and then Katara was gone. 

From below the deck, Aang had bent the air around Katara and lifted her high above them. Another gust of wind knocked the soldier into the muddy water. Katara floated on mist above him. 

“Leave this place and never come back,” The Painted Lady commanded. 

Y/N had never seen someone swim so fast. That was when she realized she was still holding her breath. She sighed in relief as Katara landed back on the platform. Aang crawled out from under the dock and Sokka and Y/N ran to join them. 

Behind her, the villagers were cheering but the sound was muted because Y/N didn’t care about that, all she cared about was that her and her friends had made it in one piece. 

A loud bang sounded from the shore and everyone went silent, their eyes searching for where the noise came from. 

“HELLLOOOO!” Someone shouted angrily from the bank. 

Sokka and Y/N shared a confused look before she burst out laughing. “Oh my spirits, it’s Toph. She can’t get over here.” Y/N grabbed Sokka’s hand and pulled him to one of the canoes to paddle over and pick up their friend.

---

A/N: So i just wanted to say that I’ve had the hair cutting scene planned from the beginning, I just was waiting for the right time to place it. her hair is cut now. and the fire nation is dropped. and now all i have to say is: IT’S IN THE NEXT CHAPTER. IT. IS. IN. THE. NEXT. CHAPTER

taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon @reclusive-chicken-nugget @astroninaaa @aangsupremacy @beifongsss @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx @littlefluu @lozzybowe @thebluelcdy @ohjustlookalive @sugarmoongey @fanficdepot @teenbiology @13-09-01 @riespage @davnwillcome @naanlianid @creation-magician @lunariasilver @vintagerose1014516 @bcifcng @rockinearthbending-marauders @francesciak @thia-aep @aphrcditeee @milk-n-cheese @solarsuki @sendnuwudes @humbleseame @my--shitty--art @lovingcupcake51002 @loganrwebb @celia-not-cecilia @treestarrrrrrrr @p--e--a--c--h--e--s @velveteencurls @izzieserra @oddment-nitwit-blubber-tweak @salsasadd @nataliahaslosthershit @awkwardnesshabitat @lanie103 @emogril @im-the-galactic-starfish​ @charlotteisabella​ @alienmotel​

[xpeachesncream]

off the grid | nine (final)

summary: it was as simple as swapping places with a stranger from across the world to get away from everything back home. that is - until you meet Jimin. things become more complicated as he unfolds a new chapter in your life that you were initially trying to avoid.

pairing: reader x pjm

genre: post-college au, christmas/holiday au | angst, fluff, smut (to come)

words: 1.7k

chapter warnings: cussing, more insecurities and overthinking, crying, reminiscing, fluff

notes: here we are, folks! the final chapter to this series. i may post some drabbles later on and accept requests, but for now, i’ll keep this where it’s at. thanks for the love and support on this! head over to my kth fic called perfectly wrong if you’re looking for something a little messier lol

> series masterlist <

You took one last look around Yana's loft to make sure you weren't missing anything. You made sure her loft was spotless, doing loads of laundry and cleaning every inch to make sure it was ready for her arrival back home.

Once you were satisfied with your round, you sighed, giving the loft one last look with a tight-lipped smile. This place truly gave you the best memories by far. You look towards the living room, remembering the moment you shared with Jimin and how you both had confessed your feelings for each other.

It was something you were never going to forget.

You grabbed your purse and your luggage and made your way downstairs to the cab you called over to take you to the airport. The driver happily helped with your luggage before you took your position in the back seat and sat quietly. You held Jimin's polaroid album tightly, letting it sit on your lap as you reminisced once more on the memories you made in Seoul while the driver began to pull off.

The people you met. Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok, Jin.

The places you've been.

Jimin.

You were feeling a little unsettled as the ride continued because you were still questioning the decisions you've made. Was this truly it for you two? Were you really going to go back home without reconciling in any way with Jimin?

You flipped through the polaroids one last time, fixating on the very last polaroid of you and Jimin. You made many mistakes in the past, and you knew this would be the cherry on top if you allowed it to slip from in between your fingers.

Fuck this. This couldn't be it, and you were wrong for initially thinking so.

You've lived these past years in so much sadness and frustration, so much stress and pent up negative energy. You felt like you wasted so much time being unhealthily down in the dumps, and you were so damn tired. You came here to start over and do better for yourself and you finally found that reason that pushed you to do better. You weren't gonna do this to yourself, not again. You weren't gonna make this mistake. You weren't gonna let him get away. You weren't gonna go home feeling this empty. You were gonna be selfish, and you were going to do whatever that meant to you.

You abruptly told the cab driver you had a change in destination, and he drove back towards Jimin's address without any complaints. All of a sudden, the 10-15 minutes to get to his apartment complex seemed like forever. You were dying to get out of the cab, mainly afraid you'd miss Jimin and you'd miss your chance to do this.

God, if this was meant to be, please just let me talk to him.

When you finally arrived to the steps of his apartment building, you paid the cab driver heftily and dragged your belongings into the small elevator. As soon as you reached Jimin's floor, you rushed over to his door, pushing your belongings to the side. You knocked frantically, hoping someone was at least home.

"Y/N? Are you okay? Don't you have a flight to catch?" Taehyung looked at you worriedly.

"Yeah, but that's not important right now." You rushed in while Taehyung politely brought your things in and set them aside. "Is Jimin here?" You asked although you were already making your way to his room.

"No, he just left not too long ago." Your heart dropped.

"Fuck." You said to yourself as you ran your hand through your hair.

"I'm pretty positive he went to his parents' cafe. Do you need me to drive you there?"

"Please? I really need to talk to him." He nodded and grabbed his keys.

"Alright, come on." You and Taehyung rush out the door and hop into his car. You were praying that you'd find Jimin there, but you were hopeful. Jimin had always spent time with his mom and dad, besides helping out at their café. Your felt your heart beating against your chest, the anxiety skyrocketing every minute that passed by. Taehyung was doing his best to navigate the streets quickly, but safely, immediately understanding how important this was to you.

Jimin had been having a difficult time getting past this, being that all he really did was sulk in his room if he wasn't at the café. He didn't know how someone could come in and change his life the way you did. How he could fall so easily for you. But he was starting to think that maybe, you were right. Maybe, you had a point. At least, that's what he liked to tell himself so it would become easier to move past this.

It never got easier, though. If anything, it really didn't do anything for him. You continued to stay on his mind, 24/7.

And so, you and Taehyung finally arrive at the café. It's not too busy, with only a few people sitting inside, sipping on their drinks and eating pastries. You and Taehyung don't spot Jimin at the front, and only see his sweet mother. She smiles from ear to ear as she approaches the both of you, pulling you into a tight hug.

"Y/N, I told Jimin to bring you over for Christmas, but he said you were busy getting ready to go back home. Isn't your flight today?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry." You pouted. "It is, but there's something I need to speak to Jimin about. Is he around?" She shook her head.

"We had him run some errands, but he should be here soon. Just wait here, I'll bring you two some drinks and pastries." She sat you both down at a table near the register, pouring you some coffee and Taehyung his favorite tea.

"Hey, don't worry. He'll be here soon." Taehyung flashed you a toothless, reassuring smile.

"Thank you for driving me here." He nodded. "I, um. I don't wanna go home like this. Even though, I'm not sure he'd want to talk to me after our stupid argument."

"He'll be happy to see you, Y/N. Trust me. Just be honest with him and let him know how you feel."

"You don't think he'll be mad?" He shook his head.

"No. I promise you." Before you know out, you both see Jimin's car pull up out front. He hops out of the car, bringing a few bags towards the back of the cafe. You couldn't wait for him to notice you, so you head outside to follow him. You stand there with Taehyung a few steps away, hoping he'd turn around and warmly greet you. Just as long as he didn't storm off all pissed, that's all that mattered.

Which, he doesn't. When he turns, his facial expression softens, and his whole body relaxes. He stands there in a puffy jacket, a white tee and jeans. He stares at you, slightly caught off guard as to why you were still lingering around when you had a flight to catch.

"Y/N?"

"Jimin." You ran straight to him, throwing your arms around his neck. "I'm sorry, I totally messed up. W-what I said, I didn't mean any of that shit and I was just so stupid. I-I don't wanna go home like—" You rambled on and on into his chest before pulling away from the hug you embraced him in, confusion plastered on his face as he couldn't understand what you said word for word.

"Woah, slow down. What is it?" You sighed as your face softened while caressing his cheek.

"Jimin, I'm sorry. I messed up. I didn't mean anything I said after we got home from the bars. It was stupid."

"It's okay. Don't worry about it." He leans into your hand. "But, you have a flight to catch. We should probably get you going—"

"No, I don't care. I'm staying for a bit longer. I wanna stay with you. I want to be with you, I want us." You smile at him as the tears begin to well up in your eyes.

"I hope you don't feel obligated to do this in order to make amends." He says softly. "You know I'll understand and give you the space you need—"

"No, I'm not. My feelings for you," You paused. "My feelings for you run deep, Park. God, it's so frustrating. I didn't intend to fall in love coming here, but I did and it's the greatest feeling in the world knowing it's you. I've made a ton of mistakes in the past, but I wasn't going to let this be another. I wasn't going to let you get away. I wanna be selfish for once, and I wanna choose what will make me happy." You cupped his face with both of your hands as he smiled down at you, his hands resting on your wrists. "We'll figure this out, but for right now, lets just enjoy this as we are, in this time and space. I wanna do this ride with you and I hope you still do, too."

"Of course I do." He smiled down at you. "God, fuck, I really, really do." He held you tightly against his body. You wasted no time planting a kiss on his plump lips, smiling into it as he caressed your back and held you close. Everything about this felt so right, and you couldn't but feel complete. You couldn't help but feel like you have finally done things for yourself, reached new heights for yourself and finally let go of the past, leaving it to where it belonged.

And so, you, Jimin and Taehyung take this back inside, not giving one fuck about missing your flight or what the upcoming days will look like. You were extremely giddy from the spontaneity, and all you wanted to do was curl up in Jimin's arms, right where you were safe. You had never felt so free and so loved at the same time, surrounding yourself with your new friends, who cared for you, and Jimin, who absolutely adored you in every way possible. Being here, you had learned that it was just better to let go. Don't chase those answers or explanations. You keep fighting for you, because no one's got you like you got yourself.

Seoul had brought you that, paving a way for a new beginning that you were excited to conquer with Jimin by your side.

That holiday-solo-vacation love story didn't end up being so bad after all.

[heresathreebee]

Waters Brackish and Briny (four)

[Ralph Lamont X Female Reader]

Summary: the first of many strange and unusual occurrences to come in your new home. Previous Masterlist Next

Tags: 15+ | 2k words | hauntings, an argument, physical intimidation 😬, secrets, crying

AN: hey remember there were ghosts in Things Seen and Heard? Personally I hate angst so sorry y'all 😔 I will NOT leave it here for long

SECOND WEEK

Ralph went back to work and the house became empty once more. Empty except for yourself and the house. And possibly a rat or two. You set up traps and finished moving the furniture in the downstairs rooms into place. The previous owners left a decently conditioned upright piano behind when they moved. A few scuffs on the legs and a toy soldier in the strings, but perfectly playable and barely out of tune. Nothing a little warm up couldn't change.

You ate lunch on the piano bench, glaring at the unfinished archway leading to the solar room. Should you sweep first or measure the windows to be fitted for panes? Do you want regular clear glass or some stained glass? Get crazy with it? 

You waste a couple hours playing basic melodies and manage to squeeze in time to do all the measurements for the windows before 3 pm. You take down the paper on the floor most window holes and sweep the dust and leaves and branches outside. You mop till the hardwood floor shines but you hate the white beech wood and add varnish to the To Do list. 

You ring up the Vayle boys you met the day you unloaded your furniture. "Hey Eddie! I was planning on making something for you and Cole as a thank you but I need some supplies first." 

It rained in the afternoon and Ralph came home with mud on his pants. "Baby what happened? Did you fall?" 

Ralph looked supremely annoyed. "One of the kids took a tumble and grabbed me for support. We both went down." 

You know he's in a sour mood but you can't stifle your laughter. You coo at him, looking over the damage to his suit. He's got mud caked on the seat of his pants and flecks of it as high as the back of his neck. You help him strip as much as appropriate with guests in the house. 

Your husband sniffs the vanilla scent from the air and looks at you incredulously. "Did you make cookies?" 

"Yeah," you said, "for Eddie and Cole." 

The boys waved at your husband from the kitchen counter. He gives a lustless wave back and trudges upstairs in his under things. You tip the boys with the rest of the cookies in an old dish and send them on their way home. 

You open your bedroom door to find Ralph butt ass naked and on his knees looking for something. 

"We should do this more often," you tease. 

Ralph looks up and raises an eyebrow at you then notices the position he's put himself in. "Now's not the time for jokes: do you know where the luffa is?" 

You cross your arms. "Well it's not under the bed…" 

"Helpful." Ralph climbs to his feet and his nose bumps yours. "Where. Is. The luffa." 

"Behind the bathroom door on a hook." 

"Why?" Ralph takes three steps towards the bathroom, then quickly retraces them and this time his forehead collides with you none too gently. "And not saving me a cookie? Uncool." 

"Open your mouth." His eyes go dark for a second and you roll yours. "Do it." 

You plant the last cookie in his mouth and flop onto the bedspread. "Go. Shower. I'll clean up the kitchen." 

The house creaks at night. Sometimes the sounds make the hair on your neck stand on end, but you simply squeeze Ralph and drift back to sleep. In the haze of a dream you think you hear something small and glass break a few rooms over but you can't hold onto your memories for long like this. 

Except tonight there is more than sounds. Beneath the smell of your body wash on Ralph's skin, something tickles the back of your throat. It's acrid and raw pulling you from the fringes of sleep into reality fast. You sniff the air and the scent seems to grow ten times stronger. It's like… it's like… 

You shake Ralph by the shoulder. He doesn't stir an inch. The smell is so strong you're choking on it. You grab Ralph and shake him like a doll until he bursts into wakefulness. 

"What? What?!" 

"Do you smell that?" 

"What?" His eyes are completely unfocused, face pinched in annoyance. 

"It smells like…" you turn on the bedside lamp much to his dismay. "It's like gasoline or something." 

Ralph growls and rubs at his eyes. "Exhaust fumes maybe. Ralph! We have to get up– we have to get out!" 

Somehow you manage to drag him out of bed and down the stairs. The smell gets weaker but it's still there burning in your nostrils like actual fire. Your eyes search frantically for that yellow orange flicker in every room to no avail. It doesn't ease your fear. 

"Come on." You push Ralph outside and the man almost falls off the wrap-around porch. His eyes are glued shut, legs shaking as he stands, and trapped in that sleep state. 

You rack your brain for ideas. Is the car on fire? Should you check the garage? Do you have a working fire extinguisher? There's one in the garage by the door but you doubt it's up to date. 

"Ralph baby please wake up, I need you…" 

You cling to his arm and he manages to crack one eye open. "The fuck is going on?" 

"Something's wrong," you stutter, "I think he's here."

Ralph opened his other eye and looked at you. His head swiveled to and fro over his shoulders, trying to peer out into the dark cover of night to find anyone lurking in the dark. His grip on your arm is tight, almost hurts. He looks back at you, puzzled. 

"Where?" 

You didn't know where, in fact you don't know why you said that. He had no idea where the two of you were. For all you know he might not even be a he at all. You've never met them but you're haunted by them. 

You shake your head and focus on the danger of now. "Fumes. I woke up and it smelled like exhaust fumes in our room." 

"I didn't smell anything," Ralph says. 

You growl. "I did. We need to call someone, we can't go back in the house. What if it's filled with gas and there is an open flame somewhere?" 

Ralph looks around then tries to walk past you towards the door. You catch him with a look of disbelief. 

"Did you not just hear a single word I said?!" 

Ralph sweeps your bruising grip from his arm. He keeps walking but he never breaks eye contact with you. He's definitely awake now. 

"If there's fumes, it's coming from the garage. Lord knows you're not going to let me look knowing that," he says stepping past the threshold into the mud closet next to the kitchen, "so we need to call someone." 

He picks up the phone from its cradle and dials 9-1-1. "Unless you have some secret satelite phone hidden in the barn, I'm all ears on how we call someone…" 

He's right. He's being an asshole about it but he's right. You can smell the fumes as you step in, desperate not to be far from him no matter what happens. Ralph plucks the housecoat from the hook by the door and fits it around your shoulders. You didn't realize you were shivering. 

The sheriff comes out tonight and it's half past 2 am. You and Ralph are waiting outside, a reasonable distance from the house in case an explosion was imminent but it never came. Sheriff Laughton brought a fire team and they searched the house. 

Travis–  as he asked them to call him– asked a few meandering questions. Ralph held your hand and answered as many as he dared, looking to you for the questions you could answer better. They both noticed your thousand yard stare but said nothing. 

Travis came back with the fire team and a long, befuddled face. "They checked over every inch of that house and didn't find anything except a broken lightbulb in the laundry closet." 

Ralphie did not return your gaze, instead he asked. "Nothing at all?" 

Travis scratched his head. "If there was something, it's gone now. I might have your cars looked at just in case, there's a mechanic about 10 miles yonder I can give you directions to." 

Ralph's hand smoothed over your shoulder to try warming you up. "No, no that's OK, I have a mechanic right here." 

You slap his chest for teasing you but your weak smile falls not a moment later. How can that be? They found nothing? Had you imagined the whole thing? But it had felt so real… 

By the time you brought your mind back to the present, you found Ralph had moved you to the kitchen and offered Travis a cup of coffee for his troubles. The fire team was packed up and driving off the property, leaving only the sheriff's cruiser out in that empty night. 

"Ralph," you whispered over the sink. "I think we should call Reagan…" 

"No." 

You blinked. He hadn't even taken a second to consider it, just… dismissed you out of hand like you were an annoyance. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared. 

"If you won't, I will." 

Ralph beat you to the phone and blocked your path, you glimpsed Travis standing awkwardly in the door but paid him no more than a passing thought. 

This was about to get ugly. 

"I. Am not crazy." You keep your voice low but the quiver of anger still seeps through. "I know what I smelled. It was real. If you're not going to ask for help, then fine, but do not stand in my way because of your pride." 

Ralph had that look in his eyes– the dangerous look. "Oh, honey, no… I told you– we are not calling Reagan." 

He kept shaking his head minutely, like it was the only thing keeping him from screaming. "That's final. I mean it, baby. I will lock you in that fucking basement if you touch that phone. I will burn this fucking house down before I let you even look at that dial." 

Your jaw hit the floor but before you could protest, Ralph had your arm in a death grip as he began to drag you out into the hallway. He was probably trying to push you to the bedroom but his out of character threat had rocked you. 

"Let me go," you growled, "Ralph! Stop it!" 

Travis called out to you two and you tried to wipe that innate look of fear from your face. Ralph seemed to snap out of it a bit when he realized you weren't alone and he finally released your arm. It didn't stop him from bending over you until his nose brushed yours and in a growl commanded you to go upstairs. 

Now is not the time to cry. Crying right now feels like weakness. You're not sad– you're fucking furious with him right now. But you're not about to make a bigger scene in front of this cop, so you push past him and head for the stairs. 

The blood racing in your veins is making your face hot and head pound. You can hear Ralph follow you up shortly, likely to continue the argument further but you are beyond listening at this point. You turn just in time to see him look at you funny– why are you mad?-- before slamming the door so hard you hear the wood around the lock almost splinter. 

He doesn't try the door. The light of the hallway goes out and you listen to him sigh as he heads for the couch to sleep on. You throw yourself onto your bed alone and cry into your pillow until exhaustion takes you to a dreamless black sleep.

Tag list: @werwulfy @fundamentally-lazy @escape-your-grape @go-commander-kim @mimiscappinisideblog

[colorseeingchick]

Oh Baby! A series (Sugawara x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Sugawara loves to play-hide-and-seek with your nieces and nephews, almost as much as he loves them. But this usually light game has real stakes when you, your brother, and your sister-in-law decide to get involved. What does Suga win in this special game? 

Warnings: Fluffy fluff, mentions of pregnancy 

Word Count: 4k

A/N: I have severe baby fever and time is a construct. This is on the longer end but I think its worth it :) Hope y’all enjoy! <3

Tired. That was the only possible way you could describe the way your husband looked as he stepped through the door of your brother’s home. His tie loose and shirt half untucked- he radiated exhaustion. But right here and right now, there’s something important that’s about to occur. And Sugawara Koushi would be at its forefront. 

“This is for you, Koushi-ojisan.” Your eldest niece, Tsubaki, bowed as she offered a folded piece of paper to your husband, who froze in the process of sluggishly sliding on his house slippers.

Suga shot you and your sister-in-law a questioning glance as he hesitantly received the piece of paper. Your sister-in-law feigned an innocent look, and you just shrugged your shoulders, pushing yourself to hold back your mischievous smirk. 

“Ne, what is this Tsubaki-chan?” The initial tiredness that had weighed down on his face had receded, being replaced with a burning curiosity and loving smile. 

“It’s to make our game of hide-and-seek more fun. You’ll play with us today, right Ojisan?” Tsubaki shyly smiled at her uncle, a plea subtly being communicated through her gaze. 

Of course he would play with his nieces and nephews. Even if he wanted to say no (which, obviously, he would never do), how could he ever reject those eyes? 

You and Suga had been married for quite a few years now, but you had been together for a long time before that. Soon after you two started dating, Suga had become best friends with your older brother. Moreover, you were very close with your brother’s girlfriend as well. So the four of you were inseparable. 

That continued into your married lives. You and Suga would invite over your brother and his wife once a week on Friday, spending the time to go out to restaurants, do game nights, or just watch movies. However, as time went on, the family dynamic shifted as your brother had his first child. And then the next one. They were now up to 4 kids, the oldest being 7 years old, the youngest at 2. Double dates became Ghibli Studio binges and babysitting time. 

Not that either of you minded, though. Your nieces and nephews were all angels, and you and Suga both loved caring for children. You and Suga had been trying for kids of your own for a while, but for the longest time, things didn’t seem to be in your favor. Suga knew that you felt responsible and that it weighed down on you, so he always kept his spirits high for you both. But you knew your beloved husband too well- he wanted a baby as badly as you, if not more. 

“Of course I’ll play with you guys,” Suga ruffled her hair, tightly holding the paper in his other hand. 

“I’m assuming Sumire-chan, Fumio-chan, and Mizu-chan are already hiding then?” He asked, glancing around the room to see if he could see any poorly hidden heads or tiny movements. 

“Y-yes...When you find them make sure you ask them for their papers, okay?” Before Suga could answer, she quickly turned around and scurried to the kitchen and grabbed her father’s leg, tugging on the fabric. “Did I do okay Otou-san?” She whispers quietly. 

Her father gives her a big smile and nods, patting her head. A hint of a smile pulls up at your lips as well. Tsubaki was the oldest of the group, and such a good older sister to her siblings, but she was yours and Suga’s lil princess. When you asked the kids to help you out when you arrived at the house that day, she was the most enthusiastic about making her Ojisan happy. 

Suga opened the folded piece of paper in his hands, very curious as to what this was all about. On the white piece of paper, in his niece’s bubbly and straight handwriting, was written:

 “for giving us another.”

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, and his head instinctively tilted. That told him absolutely nothing. But he could conclude that there was some bigger message. They were all too small to come up with something like a scavenger hunt/hide-and-seek game, so he knew it was the doing of the three suspicious-looking adults watching him intently. 

What are you all planning? Suga asked with his eyes, eye contact jumping between all three of you. Hide and seek was the kids’ tradition with Suga. Without fail, they would beg him to play EVERY Friday when you guys came over. And without fail, he would always agree. It was his game with the kids. But it seems like the adults had a hand in the game this time around. It was a competition with them, too. Alright then, game on.

Now, there are some things you have to know about this household’s version of hide and seek. The kids have numbered them as rules and made a nice little poster to go along with them, that way everyone would know them. 

Rule 1! Suga Oji-san will always be the first one to seek. 

Because, for some reason, Suga Oji-san was also a master hide-and-seeker, there was an extra rule when he was seeking. 

Rule 2! When Suga Oji-san is seeking, he has to do it in 15 minutes, or else we win!!

“Tsubaki-chan!~ when does my time start?” He calls out to the little girl, but his eyes are trained on you. 

Tsubaki looks up to her father because she forgot to keep track (oops). 

“You’re down a minute, Koushi,” your brother responds, leaning against the table in the kitchen. 

“You know, if you don’t find all the kids in that time, you may not get all the pieces of paper,” your sister-in-law chimed in, teasingly, at which you chuckled. 

Suga quirked an eyebrow, his competitive spirit really getting riled up now. “Tsubaki-chan, are you gonna come help me find the others?” He put his bag down by the door itself and started to quickly move towards the stairs. 

Rule 3! Once found, you have to help the seeker find the other hiders. 

Tsubaki scurried back to her Oji-san, happily (but quietly) saying, “Let’s go find Sumire-chan and Fumio-chan,” as she pulled his hand, leading him up the stairs. 

Suga knew that he genuinely couldn’t lose this time around. Sure, he could usually find the kids easily because they rotated through the same spots, but he always made a spectacle of trying to find them, loudly expressing how lost he was. Sometimes he would even lose on purpose. But not today, knowing that the adults would hold to their word of not letting him see the last piece of paper if he wasn’t in time. Sumire, first on the list of kids to find, had also gotten better at hiding now that she was older, and Suga wouldn’t be surprised if her father helped her find a new hiding space.

“Ne, Tsubaki-chan, do you know if Sumire-chan is hiding in the spare guest bedroom?” 

“Oh uh, I-I don’t know…” she pushed up her glasses and tugged on her sweater. 

He’s taking that as a yes. “Let’s go check.” 

Usually, she hid under the bed or burrowed beneath a pile of pillows that sat by the headboard, but she was in neither location. Suga pursed his lips, hands falling to his hips. “Sumire-chan is almost always in this room! But I can’t find her anywhere. She must be a master hider, I swear,” he proclaims, leaning against the wall. The closet door that was mostly closed didn’t mask the muffled giggle that carried in the air. 

“Tsubaki-chan, is that a… monster in the closet?” He gasps dramatically, as he pushes the door open slightly, just in case Sumire was behind the door. The giggling from the closet mixed with Tsubaki’s as they found Suga Oji-chan’s commentary hilarious. 

There, hiding in the corner of the closet with spare pillows and stuffed animals covering everything but her face, Sumire was now giggling uncontrollably. 

“I’m not a monster, Oji-san~~~!” 

“You’re right,” Suga responds as he pulls the pillows and stuffed toys off her body, pulling her arms lightly to help her stand up, “you’re Sumire-chan!” he cheers, pulling her into a hug, which she joyously returns. 

“Sumire!” Tsubaki whisper shouts. “The paper!” 

“Oh! Oji-san take this~!” she pulls the piece of paper out from her overall’s front pocket and holds it up to him. 

Suga takes the paper and opens it to read- 

“Thank you” 

-written in neat cursive, resembling his sister-in-law’s writing. 

“For giving us another” and “thank you.” Yeah, I still have no idea what this means. He just has to find the other two pieces, then. No point in overthinking. 

“Tsubaki-chan, did Otou-san give you the timer to carry?” 

Yes, there is an official stopwatch they carry for this game. That’s how seriously they take hide and seek. 

“Mmhm! You have 8 minutes left, Oji-san.” 

“No time to waste, huh? Ok, let’s go find Fumio-chan then.” He slides the pieces of paper into his pocket and offered his hands for the little girls to hold, although Sumire opted to just hold his two fingers instead- it was easier for her smol hands (I love when children do that 🥺💖). 

As you put your mug into the sink while carrying out conversations with your brother, you watch Suga and the two little girls descend from the stairs, their tiny hands gently clasped in Suga’s. As they reach the bottom they dash to your brother, leaning against his legs. Suga makes eye contact with you and smirks lightly, his competitive spirit shining through. 

“Found Sumire, hmm?” You taunt, knowing that he took a little longer than usual. This game that usually had no stakes had insanely high stakes, which Suga had no cognizance of, so you try to be as unassuming as possible. 

“I did!” He taunts back, but his eyes drop to her and his voice softens. “She did a good job hiding, though.” You turn just in time to see her whole face light up. Your heart bursts at the sight. You both would die for these kids. From when Tsubaki was born to Mizu’s first steps, you and Suga had been there to see a lot of it and raise them in part.

“The next target is Fumio. But I have no idea where he is!!” Raising his voice at the last part, he looks around dramatically, eliciting a giggle from the two little girls. 

Fumio is almost always in the kitchen- during hide and seek and even outside the bounds of the game (baby loves food). Suga monologues, opening the pantry and turning on the lights. 

Would he go somewhere entirely different to throw me off? 

Well, no. The point of the game IS for Suga to win (this time around). 

So where is he? 

The girls let out another round of giggles when Suga opens the fridge to look for Fumio, and you and your brother can’t help but chuckle as well. 

“Ne, Ni-san,” Suga calls to your brother. “Can you give me a hint to where Fumio-chan might be?” 

“I don’t know,” he pulls his mug away from his face. “Do you think I should help Oji-san?” He looks down at his girls.

Little Sumire nods her head aggressively and Tsubaki quietly responds, “Yes!” 

“Koushi-kun. You remember when Fumio was like, 2 and would crawl everywhere?” your brother starts.

How could any of you forget? The kid ended up hiding unintentionally in all the worst places. Underneath desks, behind the couch, inside the dishwasher- it was endless. But there was one place above all he loved to hide…

Suga’s eyes met your brother’s, lighting up with understanding. 

“Fumio loves helping put away the dishes, right Tsubaki-chan?” Suga walks around to the other side of the kitchen, where you were now standing next to all the cupboards filled with cooking pots. 

“But sometimes he puts himself away, with the pots, too.” He was right. Fumio would put a pot away and push it all the way to the back of the cabinet, only to crawl in after it. How he found the spot comfy, none of you understood. But it made for some very cute photos. 

“Fumio thinks he’s a pot!” Sumire chimes in. 

“So I should check where all the pots are, shouldn’t I?” With that, Suga opens the (already slightly open) cabinet, to reveal a little boy with his hands over his mouth (concealing giggles) and a pot on his head. Suga smiles and lifts the 3-year-old out of the cabinet, pot sliding down and covering the child’s eyes. 

“Look! Fumio-chan is a pothead!!” Sumire cries out. 

All three of you burst out laughing, your brother almost spitting out his hot chocolate. 

“Su-Sumire-chan don’t say that okay? It means something different,” you try and talk without dissolving into giggles again.

“Hmm? But he has a pot on his head. What else could it mean?” She looked extremely confused and you couldn’t even fault her for it. 

“You’ll find out when you’re older,” your brother’s classic way of shutting down unwanted topics (for now). 

Fumio, on the other hand, was just glad to be in his uncle’s arms, surrounded by his favorite pots. 

“Oji-san, here!” Fumio giggled as he held the piece of paper up above his head with both hands. Suga pulled the boy against his body, opting to hold him with his left arm, while receiving and reading the piece of paper with his right. 

“To play with”

-was all that was written on the small piece, this time clearly in your brother’s handwriting. 

“Thank you for giving us another… to play with.” Suga’s hand goes slack as his eyebrows furrow in thought. What did I give them to play with? Did I buy them a toy recently? Was I supposed to buy them something!? 

The little boy in Suga’s hand notes the pensive look his Oji-san had-- leading to the boy’s decision to poke his Oji-san’s face, right on his beauty mark. “You have to find Mizu-chan!!” He cries, his smol finger gently pressing into Suga’s cheek. 

Your brother gently tilts the watch in Tsubaki’s hands. “2 minutes, Koushi.” 

“2 minutes!” A lot more time actually elapsed than he expected. “Let’s go find Mizu-chan then! Come on, Tsubaki-chan, Sumire-chan!” 

Suga hands Fumio over to you, taking the pot off his head and placing it on the table. He reaches his hands out to the girls again, both of whom accept gladly. And with that, he bounds back into the living room where your sister-in-law still waits. 

“One minute, Oji-san!” Sumire calls out this time, genuinely concerned her uncle won’t make it in time. 

But there’s another unspoken rule that’s been accepted by all the participants that ensures Suga’s success. 

Rule 4! The baby gets to be found last. 

Mizu was just 2 years old. He didn’t understand the concept of winning or losing. He just liked it when other people played with him. But the older kids did understand winning. And just like Suga, they were quite competitive. This rule was made to teach them that being nice to those who can’t play as much (like a baby) is more important than winning. 

With this stipulation, Mizu consistently hid in the same spot for every single game. Without fail, in the small woven basket used to house all the family blankets, the baby boy would sit in silence, his mom right next to him on the couch it lays adjacent to. 

Suga was gonna draw it out, though. If it's not a show for the kids, then was there really a point? 

You and your brother (who now had his turn at holding Fumio) watched as Suga ran behind the TV, searched beneath the table, and moved pillows on the couch searching for the baby of the family. 

“30 seconds!” 

“I have no idea where Mizu is! What should I do?” 

Sumire’s face is flushed with worry and excitement as she runs up to him and grabs his hand with both of her own, pulling him towards the blankie basket. “Oji-san! He hides here usually! Hurry before time runs out!” 

You sit down onto the arm of the couch as Suga stares at the woven basket. 

“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2…” 

“Found you!!!” Suga pulls the cover of the basket away, triggering an endless stream of baby giggles from little 2-year-old Mizu. Suga picks up Mizu and his stuffed bear that he had been clinging onto. 

“Oji-san wins!!” Sumire jumps up and down, hopping onto her mother’s lap. Tsubaki opts to sit on the floor, ready to watch what was to come. At this point, you and your brother are also sitting on the couch, your anxiousness raising in your belly. 

“So where’s that last piece of paper….” Suga scans the baby for any pockets when he realizes it's tucked into the ribbon around the neck of the bear in his hands. 

“I’ll take him,” your sister in law says as she gently puts Sumire on the side, grabbing Mizu from Suga before sitting down again. 

Suga slides the slip of paper out from the bear’s ribbon and sits onto his knees, retrieving the other pieces of paper from his pockets. 

“Ready for the big reveal?” He asked the kids in tone of voice, but the adults through eye contact. Although he had no doubts all the adults already knew the message. 

Tsubaki nodded in agreement while Fumio’s eyes were trained on his Oji-san. Sumire was fidgety. 

“Alright! So it says, ‘Thank you...’ ‘for giving us…’” he places the little slips onto the floor, leaving a gap for the 3rd piece. “...Something ‘to play with.’ Let’s see what I gave you guys to play with.” The final piece was now being flipped over in his fingers. He was killing himself with the suspense. “Thank you for giving us another-” he drops the last piece into line with the others, “-FRIEND… to play with…”  

Though the words came out of Suga’s mouth, he didn’t process what they had meant right away. For once, the fun and playful Koushi oji-san had dropped his usual playful demeanor for one of complete shock. 

A...a friend? 

Your nerves were now skyrocketing as you felt your brother squeeze your arm in a calm and reassuring manner. You get up, arms hugging yourself as you slowly approach Suga, who was dumb struck on the floor. 

But before you could speak, Tsubaki spoke up, scooching towards Suga, tugging on his arm sleeve.

“Oji-san, remember when I asked you if you and Y/N Oba-san had any babies I could be friends with, and you told me we would have to wait a while?” Suga’s eyes moved to the little girl, wide in surprise. In honesty, her words caught you and your brother off guard as well. 

She remembered that? It was a conversation from around when Fumio was a few months old, and you and Suga had been trying so hard for a child then. She asked Suga if she could play with your kids, somehow convinced that you guys were hiding your own children from meeting her. It crushed you both internally, but you had smiled as Suga told her “Oba-san and I don’t have any friends for you now. But I promise we will give you another friend to play with as soon as we can! You might have to wait for a while though.” He had ruffled her hair and smiled, but it was pained. Though she was young and didn’t understand why, she knew that what she had said had hurt Koushi oji-san, one of her favorite people. You assumed your sister-in-law had told her to just not ask you or Suga about it again, but you never assumed she actually held onto the memory. 

Suga just looked at Tsubaki, waiting for her to continue. 

“... well… Oba-san said that she has a baby in her tummy… and that when it comes out we can be friends… so we wanted to say thank you for keeping your promise, Oji-san.” 

Everything goes still. Even the small children sitting in the room, Mizu now sleeping on his mother’s shoulder while Fumio and Sumire hugged each other, aware of the frozen air... 

...until Suga lets out a shuttered breath. You look at him, watching tears stream down his eyes, and you exhale a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. 

“Yes, Tsubaki-chan, I told you we would keep our promise,” he jumps up, pulling her into a hug and spinning her around. She starts laughing and he laughs too. Before you know it your body starts shaking from giggles and tears that can’t help but escape you. You can hear your sister-in-law crying as well, and feel your brother’s arm pull you into a hug, a bright smile plastered across his face. 

Your sister-in-law had come with you to your doctor’s appointment 3 weeks prior to confirm the pregnancy. However, you wanted to hold off on telling Suga just to increase the chances of the pregnancy carrying through. You couldn’t bear the thought of telling him only to lose the baby mid pregnancy- that would absolutely crush him. So while waiting, you decided to come up with a fun way to tell him, getting your nieces and nephews in on the plan in the process. Although your brother and sister had known, neither had really processed the information. And neither had you. Not until this moment. 

Suga put Tsubaki down and approached you, face completely tear-stained and smile bright as the sun. You always somehow got lost in his beautiful features, and now you felt lost in the happiness radiating off of him. You let him engulf you in his arms, kissing your forehead while his tears rolled onto your face. 

“We finally did it, love.” He whispers. 

You push your face into his button-up shirt, inhaling his cologne and the reminiscent smell of detergent.

“We did,” you murmur against him. 

“Wait, Oji-san and Oba-san are gonna have a baby?!” You hear a surprised Sumire ask loudly. Evidently, she had been a bit out of the loop and Tsubaki one-san had to fill her in a bit. 

“Yes, Sumi, we are having a baby,” you respond, turning your head to look at her but not letting go of Suga. 

You watch the realization dawn on her, turning to Fumio. “Fumio there’s another baby coming!” She jumps up and down once more, spreading her excitement to the little boy who starts clapping and jumping with her. 

“Ba-by! Ba-by! Ba-by!” the two cheer while Tsubaki tries to shush them, Mizu still fast asleep. 

“Alright you two, shhh! Time for dinner. You can cheer more after dinner,” your sister-in-law chides as she heads to the kitchen. 

“Who’s ready for some ramen?” 

“Ra-men! Ra-men!”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once dinner was over, a movie was watched, the children were put to bed, and dishes put away, you and Suga say bye to your brother and sister-in-law. 

“Goodnight Ni-chan!” you say as you watch him close the door. 

“Night Y/N-chan, Koushi-kun.” He waves a final goodbye. 

As you approach the passenger side of the car, you feel a hand lightly tug your wrist. You turn around to have Suga wrap his one arm around you while guiding your face to his as he gives you a slow and loving kiss. As you pull away, Suga buries his face into the crook of your neck, his smile pressed against your skin. 

“We’ve waited for so long, Y/N… and now it’s finally happened.” 

You pet his hair and snuggle against his head. “I know, Koushi. And it will be wonderful. You’re going to be the best dad out there.” 

“And you’re gonna be a wonderful mom.”

You both stand there for a minute, bodies warm in each other’s embrace and hearts warm in the realization of your shared dream. 

“But you know, our baby’s gonna be really lucky,” you giggle. 

Suga pulls away to look at your face. “Why is that?” 

You put a hand on your stomach.

 “Baby is going to have a lot of wonderful friends to play with, always.”

[im-a-mcsimp-for-mchotties]

Chasing Cars: Mark Sloan x Reader

A/N: Is this how Shonda writes Grey’s Anatomy episodes?

“Hello?” You answer the phone. “It’s Owen. There’s been a plane crash.” Your breath catches in your throat. “M-Mark?” “He’s stable for now.” “I’ll be right over.” You hang up the phone and sprint across the street from your shared apartment to the hospital. You didn’t think that this would happen, but of course, just when everything seems good, it goes wrong. Owen meets you at the door and leads you to his room. Mark’s pale, but he’s conscious. You rush to his side, tears in your eyes. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly. His hand comes to your face and you lean into the touch. “You can climb in with him if you’d like,” Owen says quietly, then turns and leaves you two alone. You shuck off your shoes and climb in the bed with him carefully. He softly wraps an arm around you, and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’m okay, sweet girl,” he murmurs into your hair. “I was going to wait to tell you this, but with what happened, I don’t think it can wait.” You take his hand in yours gently and place it on your belly. “I’m pregnant, Mark.” He smiles and strokes your belly. “How many weeks?” “10.” You pull an ultrasound out of your pocket and show it to him, pointing out the strawberry sized dot on the paper. His thumb strokes over it. “I had them take a blood test so I could find the gender out earlier than later. It’s a boy,” you say with a smile. He chuckles softly. “Now you’ll have to deal with two of us,” he teases. “That’s perfectly fine with me.” You both yawn quietly. “Get some rest, honey.” He nods and kisses you. “I love you more than anything, sweet girl.” “I love you too Mark.” He closes his eyes and so do you, wrapped in each other’s arms. You awake a few hours later to alarms blaring, and your brother, Alex pulling you gently out of the bed. Mark stopped breathing sometime in the night. “Mark,” you panic. “Mark wake up!” You go to move to his side, but Alex wraps his arms around you tightly. You scream hysterically, trying to get to him, but Alex’s arms don’t budge. Owen rushes in followed by some nurses. They work for 15 minutes to revive him. Owen turns to you, and it’s like the world crashes out from under you. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice cracking. Your eyes shoot up to stare him in the eyes. “No, you don’t get to be sorry Owen! YOU’RE THE REASON HE WAS ON THE DAMNED PLANE IN THE FIRST PLACE!” you scream at him. You manage break free of Alex’s arms and he doesn’t stop you. You pound weakly at Owen’s chest. “My child will grow up without a father because you put him on a plane!” Owen looks down at you, then pulls you into a crushing hug, ignoring your thrashing. “I’m sorry,” he says again, this time tears slip down his face. Your thrashing stops, and you just sob into his chest. He cries softly too. Eventually he lets go of you, and you stumble over to Mark’s still body. “I love you Mark Sloan. I always will,” you say softly as you run your hand through his hair one last time.

Several months later, you still miss Mark. However, an unexpected relationship blossomed with Owen a few months after Mark passed. It was shocking to both of you because Owen was partially the reason why Mark passed. You and he were making your way to the cafeteria when you stop dead in your tracks, realizing that your water broke. “Owen,” you turn to him. “I think my water broke. He turns to you and his eyes go wide. “Are you being serious?” You nod. He grabs a wheelchair and you sit down in it and rush up to labor and delivery. “Oh, okay, that hurts,” you mumble quietly. A lot of pain, sweat and tears later, the little guy entered into the world with a loud cry. The doctor handed him to you, and the tears started flowing. He has Mark’s hair and eyes. “He looks just like Mark,” you say softly. Owen smiles slightly, watching you care for the newborn. “Mark Everett Sloan Jr,” you say quietly. “That’s a good name,” Owen says, and pecks you on the head. Mark fusses in your arms, and you quietly start to sing. “We’ll do it all, everything, on our own. We don’t need, anything, or anyone. If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?” He stops fussing, and looks up at you with the same ice blue eyes that his father had. You continue to sing softly. “I don’t quite know, how to say, how I feel. Those three words, are said too much, they’re not enough. If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?” He yawns, and you smile softly. Owen watches from across the room, enraptured at the sound of your voice. “Forget what we’re told, before we get too old, show me a garden that’s bursting into life. Let’s waste time, chasing cars,around our heads.” His eyes close, and he falls asleep in your arms. You look up at Owen and he smiles softly at you, tears falling down his cheeks. “That was Mark’s favorite song, and I guess I can say that he takes after his father,” you say quietly. “That was beautiful,” he says quietly as he walks towards you. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “You can hold him,” you say. You gently hand the sleeping baby to Owen, and he smiles softly. You yawn, and close your eyes. You think ‘Mark, he’s the spitting image of you. I miss you so much,’ before you doze off.