#so there’s ton to do and i might not be on here much except for the occasional text post 🥺

[seiwas]

wishing everyone a lovely week ahead! 💗🥺

[kuromi-hoemie]

bleh

[thebibliosphere]

Joy I have to ask - what temperature do you think it is inside Wayne Manor?

Is it essentially outside temperature except where the fireplaces are? Does Alfred have a one man war against climate change? Is that why Bruce spends so much time in the basement?

Depending on which timeline you follow, Wayne Manor was built in the late 1800s. Having worked in giant historical homes, I'm telling you now it's a fucking pain in the ass to update the heating systems in those buildings. I know we've got comic book logic to contend with, and they've got massive generators in the basement to keep the cave running (sometimes it's turbines powered by the water flowing through the caves), but I also think it's plausible that to avoid damaging the historical facade of the building, you might walk around the house and see box fans shoved into the window frames during the summer because fuuuuck trying to install modern AC through 18th-century brickwork.

As for heat, well, for a frame of reference, the James J Hill house up here in MN—built roughly around the same time during the Gilded Age when the Waynes were pioneering industry in Gotham—was forced to rely on a boiler roughly the size of a steam engine to heat the house and used 250 tons of coal each year to keep it warm. That boiler provided hot water and ambient heat through steam radiators, but they also still had fireplaces in almost every room to try and compensate for the winter. The house was updated for modern heating and air conditioning within the last 40 years, but with a house that size and ceilings so tall, it's not particularly efficient. They still rely on box fans and space heaters to keep the space habitable during summer and winter.

New Jersey is not as far north as Minnesota, but the temperatures can still drop comparably low, especially when you factor in the seafront Gotham is on. So, while I do think they likely upgraded the heating systems at some point (they can't keep guzzling through coal like that), I also can't help but feel it's got to be cold as hell in that house unless they're being meticulous about lighting fires and airing every room out to prevent damp.

Because that's another thing. If you're not keeping your stone house warm, you risk damp and water damage, and I feel like Alfred would rather gnaw off his own arm than let Wayne Manor crumble to dust with black mold festering in the original French plaster.

So he's not so much fighting a one-man war against climate change as he's fighting a one-man war to keep the house dry. He's walking through rooms no one even uses, making sure the steam radiators are working and opening the windows a crack to let the condensation out.

Is he also turning off all the light switches as he goes? Yes. Is he always yelling, "Why is every screen in this house turned on if no one is using them?" also, yes.

Is Bruce also down in the cave huddled under an extra cape, overclocking the batcomputer to stay warm? Also a distinct possibility.

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Sniffle any louder

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary - when you show up to work il lit aggravates Natasha that is until she sees your dire state

Warnings - mention of illness, nonsexual nudity, hurt comfort, as usual not proofread

Word count - 2k

A/n - I started rushing at the end because I wanted to have it out by tonight so the ending might not be as good srry

Fractures of pain shot through your aching body like icicles as you left the team meeting. God how you wished you'd just admitted you were ill this morning instead of letting your pride get in the way and pretended to the team that you were right as rain. I guess that's what happens when your on a team with literal super soldiers, you too start believing your above any illness or injury. Oh, but how wrong you realised you were when this flu hit you like a ton of bricks. The combined migraine alongside with the distrsssing chill of your bones left little energy left for you to do anything except lie down and rest, which you hated to admit and wouldn't ever given the choice, despite how sickly you'd begun to look.

Your usual bright eyes full of life and wonder became dull and bloodshot from the lack of sleep your blocked nose had caused you the previous night when you chose to ignore it. The skin on your face that was often painted a rosy colour now paled almost deathly looking, comparable to that of a ghost. Your unshakable senses, often remarked as some of the best had become overworked and dulled from the sickness using up all your remaining energy causing you not to notice people around you until they had begun to speak. The gravelly gasping and choking noises that spluttered from your inflamed throat were foreign to your usual bubbly voice.

Despite these stark and clear changes in not only your physical appearance but also how you carried yourself around the compound you had tricked yourself, somehow, into the belief no one around you would notice. Obviously you were unwell anyone could see that from a mile off and if you didn't think out of a house full of spies, enhanced beings and military personnel that not one of them would pick up on something up with you then you must have been seriously down with something.

Unlucky for you someone did notice after your sniffling had interupted their train of thought for the seventh time, it didn't take a genuis but she'd been ignoring the signs since you arrived. Natasha Romanoff had been trying to reread and correct a badly written mission report written by an incompetent intern. This had already been stressful enough for her without the woman next to her trying to desperately through her blocked nose instead of just going home. The first time she actually noticed something was up was when you nearly walked into the door, stumbling around like bambi on ice. This was something someone with your spacial awareness and high senses would never manage to do if they were as okay as they were telling everyone they were. She spotted it again when you began to cough like a smoker and at that like someone who smoked at least five packs a day, a thing she knew you were not. You'd told her a while back that despite your bad habits which were endless and definitely on show today that you never wanted to smoke because it reminded you of your mother. So unless you'd switched up on that which she very much doubted and had taken up chain smoking the answer was clear; you were ill, very ill.

She also questioned why you were even here, how you were even here. Natasha would leap at the first chance to avoid these dull meetings even if it meant admitting illness to the rest of the group. She'd actually faked being ill before to skip debriefs and instead head to the gym. At one point she had no clue how you were even still able to be alive and functioning with how shallow your breaths were. Everytime your mouth opened a disgusting noise alike to the disgust she felt at nails on a chalk board rung from deep in your throat. Aswell your ever scratcher voice that was beginning to drive her insane. It was one thing to come in sick, it was another to make yourself more ill by working harder than usual.

This had made her angry more than anything, angry at your selflessness. Angry no one else would ever do this, including herself. Angry you put working above your own physical health. Angry that you'd risk everyone else getting ill instead of taking a sick day. Angry you couldnt just admit your illness and leave.

Your eighth sniffle really sent Natasha over the edge as she turned to look dead at you and gave you a menacingly dirty look. A scowl that could kill glowering into your soul. Yet in feverly state you could hardly even register the spy looking in your direction as you still tried to process something said in conversation several minutes ago. Throughout the rest of the meeting she sideyed, scowled, gritted teeth, frowned, muttered under breath and cursed in your direction much to you ignorance. On an average day you could recognise what emotion someone was going through just by being in the same room as them and the tone of their breath but right now even with Natasha directly next you, practically right in your face you couldn't pick up a single negative emotion.

After the meeting you quickly stumbled in the direction of your room, hoping to avoid anyone on the way there, which you managed with much ease despite your worsening condition. Once you reached your room you shut the door without bothering with the lock. Stripped to your underwear and crawled back into bed without a sound. Curling up under your soft thick duvets you shivered and slowly cried yourself into a feverish slumber.

Natasha stayed behind to finish her reports, which she easily could have done hours ago without your incessant coughing and sniffling and all round ill noises. It only infuriated her more as she worked quickly, alone and welcoming the silence since the end of the meeting. When she finished up the work she was just about ready to give you a piece of her mind. And thats what she was gonna do. She had strong feelings about you prioritisation of work over wellness and she was gonna share them with you whether you wanted to hear or not.

Easily, she threw open your door and it hit the wall with a bang, enraged she didnt notice your crumpled whimpering figure writhing under the duvet.

"Sniffle a little louder next meeting." She comments loudly and sarcastically before instantly wincing at the sight of you in the bed.

Instantly her whole demeanour changes into one of care and pure unhidden worry. Natasha crouched over your trembling figure on the bed. Quickly she removed the pile of blankets from overtop and pressed a palm to your forhead before just as swiftly pulling it away with a frown. You were boiling 38°c at the very least and yet your body was still shivering. Without thinking twice Natasha knew the best thing for you was a cold, very cold shower.

She carried your somehow still sleeping figure easily into the bathroom as if you were no more than a light weight to her, which you probably were considering her max dead lift. Gently and ever so carefully she sat you down in the bath before turning the cool shower on next to you. Adjusting it so the water pressure was lower than usual so that it maybe less of a shock for when you fully woke.

Soon after the water began to flow your eyes opened to the hazy view before you. Natasha knelt over the bath making sure you were just alright. When you noticed the water and the bath, definitely not where you fall asleep you began to panic. Quickly flailing much like a fish out of water. Thrashing to get out the bath and attempting to scrabble to your feet. Natasha noticed your sudden frenzy and much quicker than you could, grabbed a hold of your hands halting your movements while whispering affirming words to you.

"Shh sh its okay. Your just in the bath, don't worry were just trying to soothe your fever." She begins to rub your palms slowly in a way which soothes you and instantly slows your panic as you go to rest your head on the bathroom wall.

"Hm don't do that darling. Try and stay awake while your in the bath, just for now." She's says quietly afraid to worsen the headache you already had as she coaxes your head off the wall. "That's it good girl. You can do this."

Her small praises would have usually annoyed you and felt almost condescending but right now they were almost enough to make you smile. She was making you feel as if your feeble attempts to stay conscious were really doing anything.

"M' so tired." You mumbled out a response that slumped together into your mouth so it was barely understandable to Natasha yet she still smiled and nodded at you, not wanting you to feel any worse than you already did.

"That's okay sweet girl, the sooner we get you out the bath and some medicine down you the sooner you can sleep." All the while she kept rubbing at your hands and fingers to keep you grounded in the moment. "I'm going to find you some fresh clothes just stay here."

You nodded but the minute Natasha left your head flopped back against the wall as if magnetised towards it. Upon her return with fresh clothes Natasha tutted.

"You really aren't well, are you?" A small attempt at a nod on your part did not surprise her one bit. "See if you told someone earlier we wouldn't be here right now. You have to ask for help when you need it." She knew her words meant little to you in your current state but she wanted to start bedding them in now nonetheless.

"Now, do you need help getting dressed? There's no shame in needing the help."

"Uhm.. I think a bit." Your response was croaky and your voice was beginning to sound worse by the second.

"That's okay, I'll help you then." She gives you a hand getting out the bath and holds you upright as she helps fully undress you. In her panic to get you in the bath she hadn't thought to remove what you were wearing.

You weren't insecure about your body but something like this would usually not be on with you. But right now you knew you couldn't refuse the help Natasha was offering as you could barely even stand still yourself. So begrudgingly you allowed her to undo your bra and slip off your underwear before tossing them in the bath saying something about getting them to the wash later. Putting on the fresh clothes was easier than either of you anticipated as you didn't resist and her strength helped you from falling against the cold tile floor.

Natasha helped you hobble back towards your bed which you instantly fell against ready to embrace sleep again.

"Ah. Not so quick, first the medicine then sleep." She said softly handing you first a couple pills and some water. "For your headache." Begrudgingly you took them and Natasha smiled as she saw the look of grimace on your face finding it both amusing and adorable. "Okay sweet girl just the syrup left, this will help for your throat." You stared at the syrup in your hand with a frown. Just the smell of its contents was enough to make you dry heave and its colour wasn't tempting either. After two minutes of more convincing and praise you managed to stomach it, not all of it but enough so Natasha was happy enough to stop bothering you.

You knew after that you could finally emmerse yourself in a blissful slumber and with little care curled up, face pressing into Natasha who watched over you as you slept making sure nothing interupted your much needed rest.

Tags: @wandasfifthwife @yanaromanov @idkwhatever580 @stayevildarling

[ilys00ga]

you are my favorite!!!! super happy to know you are taking requests :D also i hope you are doing well♡♡

could i request a yoongi x f!reader possibly where they have a rlly bad argument and make it up and it ends really fluffy? maybe the argument could be over jealusy or this stuff ofc not in a toxic way. Thank you in advance :)

BLOWING SMOKE.

PAIR: yoongi x f reader

TAGS/WARNINGS: established relationship, producer!yoongi, yoongi fucks up real bad, hes lowk an ass in this one sorry xxx, he fixes things tho, misunderstandings with a great amount of miscommunication, reader thinks hes cheating, jealousy, angst, also fluff, a teenie tiny dusty bit of smut implications at the very end, but no smut I promise. that's it I guess?? lmk if I missed something. oh yeah this is probably full of unedited mistakes, just ignore :)

A/N: omg omg first off, THANK U I love u lots 💗 second, this matches the new fic I was already working on so akdjqjsjjs was in the mood for some good angst hehehe...although, I gotta say, this was pretty rushed cz I had a shit ton of things to do (I still do) but I tried to make it as good as I can, I hope u like it 🥹 also, ik u said 'not in a toxic way' but I think I might have gotten carried away? nothing too extreme I hope, but we all fuck up, and yoongi here is not doing any better.

PS. requests are still open! feel free to drop some in my ask box anytime :)

Loving Yoongi was like a field of cotton grass dancing with the wild wind on a fresh late spring day. But being in a relationship with him, much like any other relationship out there, wasn't always a bed of soft petals and a sky of warm sunshine.

“I'm sorry, darling. I have to stay here for another two hours. You can still come over if you want.” That was what he said over the phone, one day, when you asked whether he was free for a dinner date or not. It's been a hectic week for the both of you, two adults trapped in the hectic mess of what we call life. An unsettling bubble formed in your chest. You missed him, so, terribly much. The days went on, and it became harder for you to sit down with him for a genuine conversation or a wholesome meal. The mere thought that your relationship was heading towards one of those bland and colorless stages was heavy on your heart.

His suggestion sounded apologetic enough for you to swallow the pill entirely, so you immediately declared your agreement, grabbed your purse, then left the apartment.

On your twenty-minutes-long walk there, you made sure to grab a bottle or two of wine and some snacks, because, knowing Yoongi, he would let his body devore itself before he would feed himself a proper meal, once he's inside that studio.

Except that, all of your hopes of a hopelessly romantic night at his studio, and that uncomfortable couch he purchased specifically so he wouldn't doze off when he's supposed to work, vanished as soon as you pushed the door open and walked in.

Yoongi never said or did anything to hurt your trust, neither were you the type of lover to shed tears and break glass when they see their partner with another person. But seeing him sitting so close to the female producer you were already familiar with, their chairs almost touching as they fixed their attention on the large computers on top of his desk, that was a sight you weren't ready for. And it wouldn't have been so much of an issue to you if you weren't sitting in the same room with your boyfriend and the woman he used to hook up with on a regular basis before he got with you.

“It's good to finally see you, __.” She gave you a smile. A little, polite and genuine gesture that, in contrast to the smile you mirrored to her, made your stomach flip.

Another hour passed with you staring mindlessly at your phone screen and them doing their thing. You were on the verge of excusing yourself to leave, to maybe catch some fresh air instead of suffocating to death inside that closed space, when the girl finally stood up to leave.

You watched as she gave him a hug, her hand gently rubbing at his shoulder, before she faced you to bid her goodbye and left.

Throughout the entire thing, Yoongi didn’t spare you a glance. His back was the only thing you could see, along with the back of his head, covered with his favorite dark beanie. You thought her departure would soothe your heart and put your anxious mind to rest. That Yoongi would turn around and explain why the hell he was hanging out with her, and not with his usual team members. Except that neither of the above happened.

“I’m done here too, for the day. We can go now.” He said as he stood up from his own chair, stretching his arms and arching his body with a rough groan. You were left wondering whether you were the insane one there. Or maybe he was that blind to the chaos happening in your head at that very moment.

The words were on the tip of your tongue. You could no longer hold them back. They were too strong to be kept hidden deep inside your throat. And so, you cleared your throat and let them speak for themselves. “You never told me you still work with her.”

You paused, taking a deep breath as you anticipated an answer from him, which came rather more lightheartedly than you fancied.

“Oh, I didn't think it was worth talking about.” He said, hovering over the desk to turn the devices off.

“Really?” You tucked the tip of your finger under another one, his usual nonchalance was supposed to sooth you, reassure your heart that he only belonged to you, but it only served to stir something inside your anxious self. “But it's still something, Yoongi..”

“Darling, you were never bothered with who I work with.” He remarked.

“Because you never had history with your usual team members.” Your blunt argument, with all the bitterness it held, took the both of you off guard.

“Is this about what I think it is?” He glanced up at you again, finally catching up on the situation at hand. “Look at me. Are you upset because she was here?”

“Yes I am.. You never mentioned the fact that you still see her everyday. Were you planning on keeping that from me?”

He let out a heavy sigh. “I told you it was never a big deal, baby. That's why I didn't bring it up.”

“Yoongi, it doesn't matter what you think of it. I deserve to know this type of thing.”

He scoffed at that, his attention turning to his stuff as he started gathering them. “Baby, please. I was working. We had a project to do. It's not like I slept with her or something.”

“Did you?”

At the heavy implication of your short question, Yoongi froze in his place, unmoving. His eyes spoke of surprise and pain as he stared deeply into yours, sending a chill down your spine. You blinked, and the sound of crashing almost made you jump when he threw the headphones he was holding carelessly on the desk.

“You think I did?” He asked. Even as his voice was completely empty of amusement, he didn't raise his voice at you. “You think I slept with her?”

“I don't know.” You shrugged. “That's what I'm trying to know.”

Neither of you spoke after that. He continued staring at you, not providing an answer that could satisfy your clenching heart. Instead, and just like every single time the two of you had an argument before that, he faced his desk again and busied himself with his belongings, his movements harsher and rougher than before.

“It's better if you leave now.” He said, his voice disturbingly cold.

You wished he could say anything. Maybe snap at you for being so harsh with your judgment on him, or lay his heart out and tell you the thing you dreaded the most, that he indeed slept with her. But he didn’t. He just faced the other way and did utter a word. And so, you grabbed your purse, phone in your other hand, and walked out of the studio.

Deep in the darkness of your room, you lay on your bed, deep in thought, staring at the ceiling like it could crack open and show you the secret towards a blissfully happy love story to remedy your soul. Your string of thoughts was cut short when noise broke out in your apartment. The sound of the front door being locked and closed again.

You craned your neck to catch a glimpse of the digital clock on top of your nightstand. It was three am.

Having had this scenario happen multiple times throughout the years of your relationship with him, you left your tear stained pillow and followed the source of the noise, your boyfriend in the kitchen.

You found him bent down in front of the open fridge, his back, once again, facing you. If he didn't hear your footsteps against the floor, he definitely heard the soft sniffle you let out as you leaned against the doorframe, you were certain.

“It's three in the morning.” You stated, like it was the most important news you could give him at that very moment. He didn't spare you a glance, settling for a can of beer and pushing the door of the fridge closed with his leg. “You shouldn’t drink at this hour.”

“Good to know you care about me.” He said, his voice calm but dripping with the usual bitter sarcasm he often exercised when he was tense or angry.

You couldn't help rolling your eyes at that. He was really upset. “Can we just talk?”

He flicked the can open with one hand, taking a long gulp of the liquor that left you with a small frown. “Why? So you get to accuse me of cheating again?”

“Yoongi, please-”

“No, __.” He paused, his gaze felt like a freezing flame to your soul. “You feel the way you feel, yeah I get it. But doubting my loyalty like that? Thinking that I could really go out of my way to cheat like it's nothing? What the fuck are you doing?”

His words, coupled with the way he looked at you, felt like a punch to your guts in that very moment. He was right, you knew that. No matter how insecure and threatened you felt back then, no matter how fucked up the thing he did was, cheating shouldn't have been your first conclusion. Especially when you loved and cherished him so deeply. With a trembling voice, you gathered your words and tried to ignore your stinging eyes as they threatened to spill your hidden emotions out. “I... Our relationship has been so dull lately, I was hoping we could spend some time together and catch up, but then I saw her there and I just..”

“Just what, __?” He cuts your speech. “Do you even trust me?”

“I do, of course I do! But you didn’t even talk to me about it, and when I tried to talk, you were all like ‘Oh, it doesn't matter, you're just being dramatic.’”

“That is not what I said.” He hissed.

“Doesn’t matter!-” A sob interrupted your speech, you ran a hand through your hair in frustration. “Can we just- please-”

Your words were cut short when he started walking towards you. You felt his arms engulfing you in a tight embrace, your face finding its place buried into the crook of his neck, where your warm tears touched his soft, milky skin.

“Shh.. I know.” He whispered into your ear, the strong smell of alcohol, carrying a hint of coffee within, filled your senses. Your arms moved on their own, automatically hugged him back. “You know I would never break your trust, right?”

You nodded your head. Something about the softness of his voice, heavy with vulnerability, made your heart crush into pieces. The way he held you, despite the hurt you knew he felt because of you, had a toll on you.

You pulled away, enough to bring your hands up and cup his face. Your teary eyes staring into his weary ones as you spoke. “That was so stupid of me. I'm sorry.”

“I'm the stupid one here, baby..” He turned his face to nuzzle your palm and press a kiss onto its skin. “I should've thought into it. I was so immersed in work, I didn't see how fucked up the entire situation was. Should've paid more attention.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead and letting his lips linger on your skin there for a few more seconds. “I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry I made you think that lowly of me.”

The gentleness of his gesture and his words made your tears flow with a mind of their own. There was never a time he made a huge mistake and didn't make you feel like the sky might fall apart at the sight of your tears. It only made the guilt heavier on your heart.

He tightened his hold around you, pulling your body flush against his as he let you cry your hearts content out on his skin. You could feel his hand on the back of your head, a silent encouragement for you to nuzzle his neck again. You obliged.

“I can't believe you made me cry at three a.m like this.” You whined, after a long moment of hushed words of love and quiet sobs, and sniffled.

“I'm sorry, darling..” He cooed at you, wiping the tears off of your cheeks with his gentle fingers. The soft expression he had quickly faded into a slight smirk that appeared on his handsome face. “It wouldn't be the first time I do that, though.”

“Hey!” Your hand landed on his shoulder in a light swat. “We're having a moment here! And I still haven't forgiven you, you know!”

He let out a light chuckle, his smirk deepening when he tilted his head and noticed the faint blush on your face. “Worry not, I'll make it up to you. I'm gonna make you cry in a different way, darling.”

“Go away!” You whined again and shoved him away. His suggestive words made your face feel a lot warmer than necessary, but you tried to sound as stern and unaffected as you possibly could, under his gaze. “I'm going to bed. You better not follow me there, you're sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, no need for the bed, baby.” He ignored your empty threat and rejection, making a quick job of scooping you up in his arms and heading towards the living room. “We have a foldable couch for a reason.”

“It's an expensive couch, you ass!”

[moonsaver]

I’m just imagining the arranged marriage thing but this time it’s Sunday who is head over heels for reader (maybe he was the one who set this up in the first place! This could also tie into reader being higher status but Sunday does something to make them fall and then saves them by entering a relationship with the head of the oak family) but reader doesn’t like him or is into someone else, the angst….i feel like Sunday would do everything to make them love him but it just won’t work so in the end he just begs them to at least pretend they love him and that’ll be enough. A happier prompt on this could be he does actually succeed in getting some of their genuine love in the end. Anyway just thought of this after seeing a clip of Aqua and Akane from oshi no ko. Don’t judge me.

Okay, tons of possibilities here so lets go turn by turn because i really like this idea and unfortunately let it marinate for way too long

And it might have become unintentionally yandere, so i might redo it lol + there's not much fluff.

1 . Sunday arranging the marriage himself because he really likes reader – normal au

Sunday would definitely do this if he was pushed to his wits’ end. If his feelings for you not only disintegrate, but instead worsen and delve deeper, and on top of that, if he senses you yourself are drifting away from him. The added pressure of not reaching you in time after a conclusion to his own feelings is scary to him. In his desperation, he might as well pull some or the other reason out of his ass to marry you, even going as far as to even bribe your parents/guardians or anyone who has the power to object on your behalf.

Negotiations, contract handling, etc.. are all planned by him, so if you have a problem or you want to object, you can only do it by directly confronting Sunday himself. The added intimidation of his knowing, mysterious smile when he stands before you, almost irking you to continue in silence when you hesitate at wanting to object is something he almost relishes. Any problem you might have, has to be directly communicated to Sunday.

In the actual marriage? He's much easier on you. The hard part of coercing you into the marriage was over. He allows you more freedom in the marriage than he does outside of it.

He allows you separate rooms, reigns in any affections for you until you're comfortable, and even openly lets you know you two won't have to immediately consummate your marriage. He'll generally make sure you're comfortable in your marriage.

Of course, deviations and exceptions occur if you happen to still have lingering feelings for.. some nobody. He's bitter about it, so so bitter you can feel the tension in the air when his smile slightly falters at even the mention of their name. Sunday might try to hasten the process of you getting “comfortable” and perhaps even start forcing a few affections on you, such as kissing or holding your hand, brushing your hair in the morning and before bed, lingering his eyes on your lips. He might even not so subtly try to pressurise you, by telling you things like “at this rate, many might not even think we are married, my dear”. 

He plays slightly dirty, but there's so many moments of clarity that he hesitates still. He doesn't want to force you to love him - he wants it to happen on it's own. He's often so loving to you from afar in hopes you'll notice and maybe even return them, but when you look away in anxiousness or discomfort, Sunday's smile falters into a resigned, solemn expression. It hurts, deeply.

2. Sunday arranges the marriage with a reader of higher rank

Its similar, but you'll find the process is hastier. Perhaps it even causes a few slip ups in the middle.

Sunday would be practically tearing at his own hair before he finds the key to catalyze the negotiations of your marriage with him. If it's something that happens to knock you down or push you into unfavourable circumstances, he hesitates. But if you happen to like someone else? All that hesitation vaporises in an instant. He's practically over the moon when you have no one to turn to, his hand is almost shaking from excitement when he reaches it out to you. 

He's much more.. smothering if it makes sense, but he's not outright/direct about it. He always wants to be wherever you are, sometimes stands too close for comfort beside you, and even puts you in circumstances where you won't necessarily be able to push back in the case you damage your already fragile image or so. He's so elated, it's almost creepy. If you don't seem to be driving the relationship, or remain stagnant, his suspicions will grow immensely regarding your feelings for anyone else. Whenever you aren't present, he probably rifles through your belongings, scours for any possibility of traces of that nobody in your life.

He insists on spending the night with you – a familiar knock at the exact same time almost every night on your room's door. He stays with you, talking until it's late at night and you're too tired to shoo him away. But he'd never think himself superior than you, rather he almost takes advantage of it. He's constantly telling you how much incharge of the relationship you are. He disguises choices he wants to make on your behalf as something you can decide on. “Would you like a separate room for us both, or would you like us to have connected doorways?” , “shall I spend the morning with you, or the night?” , or so on. Not doing anything with him makes him sour, but he hides it with a smile. Sooner or later your plans are sabotaged, and in the end he joins you in “fixing” them anyway, and well.. since he's already been here for so long, it won't hurt to have him stick by until the end of it, right?

In some extreme cases, maybe one where the reader is desperately trying to leave the marriage or push back against anything that solidifies it, Sunday might even insist that you two consummate as fast as possible, regarding it as something necessary or even vital. He's so persistent about what he wants from you, like a dog begging and whimpering, that you're practically coerced into giving it to him.

He often poses himself on his knees to you, and stares so tenderly at you, you might crack. It hurts to not give him what he wants. There's times where begging words almost slip out of his mouth when he has to pull you closer. He wants your love so desperately it hurts.

[cupidbedsy]

𝗵𝗼𝗺𝗲 | 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 ♔

➪ summary: afer many milestones of her brothers, she finally comes home for the first hughesbowl

➪ warnings: none (surprises?)

➪ word count: 2.6k

➪ file type: fic + one insta post

➪ sunny's notes: i'm pretty sure this was the first hughes bros fic i wrote so i definitely had to go back and rewrite a bunch of it. for a little context you're a famous youtube vlogger :) also i would definitely reread this one because a lot has changed and i wrote like a thousand more words for this one

© cupidbedsy (sunflower-lilac42) ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

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⟹ Sunday, December 3, 2023 @ 3:30 in the morning - Naples, Italy

“Hello everyone, my name is y/n, and welcome to my channel if you are new here and welcome back if you’re not! It is currently,” She pauses to take a brief look at her watch, “3:30 in the morning on Sunday, December 3. I am very much still in Italy, but not for long.”

The video cuts and now her camera is sitting on her desk, the windows are opened and the lights are adjusted to be a little bit brighter. She smiles brightly at the camera before she starts talking again, “So you’re probably seeing this mid-December ish whcih means you kind of already know what is going on, but. I am officially flying and moving back home.

“Italy has been such a great experience and I’ve had so much fun here, I’ve learned a ton of new things and I am so grateful for everyone I’ve met. If you know, I’ve been here for almost three years now and I think I’m starting to realize how homesick I am. It’s super nice and amazing here but if I’m honest, I kind of miss ‘the land of the free’. That was a joke, the land of the free part, trust.”

She laughs and continues, “Anyway, the main reason I have decided to come home now is because of my brothers. If you also don’t know, I have three younger brothers, Quinn, Jack, and Luke who are professional hockey players. Quinn plays for the Vancouver Canucks and the other two play for the New Jersey Devils. I honestly have missed so much of their careers, Luke especially and I just really want to be there for the first ever ‘Hughesbowl’ I think they’re calling it.” 

She wipes her eyes, trying not to let the tears fall. She looks around at her room and then back at the camera, “So, I’m flying into New York this morning, my flight leaves at 7 so I should probably get going in a little bit. But yeah, I’ll see you guys when I touch down in New York!”

Videos play of y/n getting ready for the airport, all of her luggage behind her. She navigates her way through the airport, stopping to get some food at the Starbucks and a small drink before sitting and reading her book. After the montage, she is now in a car looking a little tired but her smile is still plastered on her face. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ Sunday, December 3, 2023 @ 10:21 in the morning - New York City, New York

“So as you can see, I am now in New York!” The camera pans to a girl in the driver's seat, “This is my American homie right here. Oh, it’s so weird being back, everyone still can’t walk and drive to save their lives.

“Anyway, Julia and I are heading to drop my stuff off at her place and then we’re going to go get some brunch, I think? We’ll, or I guess, I will go sightseeing. I leave for Vancouver tomorrow night so I can rest up before the shorter flight. It’s honestly, kind of fun being back home, everything is kind of like how I remembered. I might also break into Jack and Luke’s apartment to steal some Devils merch so I can wear it to the game, but yeah.”

“Do the boys know you’re going?” Julia asks, pulling into the parking lot of her apartment complex.

Y/n shakes her head, “Nobody knows except for you and Tiffany, my friend who lives in Vancouver. So that will be an additional bonus to the game. I’ve set up some things with the arena and I guess, actually, some of the team know so Brock, Petey. I think Jesper and Nico know too, we were talking a little bit earlier together when I got here. Alright, I will see you guys sometime soon!”

Another quick montage plays, Julia and y/n are out and about, going from store to store while y/n gapes at all the things she remembered about visiting Jack before she left. At one point, there was a video of her successfully sneaking into her brother's apartment and stealing one of their beanies they kept on the countertop. 

The next video was of her collapsing onto a bed, “We’re home! It is now almost 10 o'clock here and I am going to get some much-needed rest. Tomorrow I think we’re going to meet up with a few more of our friends which I don’t think I’m going to vlog. Which means, I will see you all when I am headed to the airport!”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ Monday, December 4, 2023 @ 7:00 in the evening - John F Kennedy Airport

“It was already 5 and I am here at the airport,” Y/n pans the camera around before focusing it back on herself, “I am actually starting to get so nervous about this. I mean in a little over 24 hours I get to see my little brothers for the first time in almost 3 years. Wow, that is crazy to say. I ended up going out to an early dinner with some of my friends so I am definitely full for this plane ride. I am going to be landing in Vancouver around 10, basically, I’m going to be falling asleep when I get there.

“I also finished this book which will be in a different video but it was so good and I’m so glad I got to read it. I’m rambling too much, I will see you guys in Canada.”

Footage of the plane played, looking down at the ground below. In the middle of those clips, were videos of y/n either trying not to fall asleep and also her reading. Then, clips of her dragging her luggage through the airport and out the doors to find her friend's car. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ Monday, December 4, 2023 @ 10:13 in the night - Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

“Oof! It is nearing my bedtime. Also, Tiffany just mentioned to me how weird it looks that I’m coming all the way from Italy with just a suitcase and carry-on. Don’t worry, I didn’t leave my stuff in Italy. I shipped most of my things here to Vancouver because I’m planning on living with Tif over here for a while until I can afford my place. And who knows, maybe Quinn will kidnap me and force me to come live with him.

“That is completely beside the point there. I have now been in three different countries and two different continents in basically 24 hours theoretically if we look at it from completely one time zone, Pacific. I’m going to cry actually, whether that is because of exhaustion or because I get to see my brothers in less than 20 hours, I don’t know. I will see you guys tomorrow, probably somewhere close to the time I leave for Rogers Arena. Tomorrow is the day.”

The video ends with her sighing with a smile on her face, both happy and nervous for the upcoming events to happen. She went to bed that night, comfortably in another bed instead of an airplane seat once more. Tomorrow was going to be a lot and she could only hope everything went to plan.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ Tuesday, December 5, 2023 @ 6:23 in the evening - Rogers Arena

“I am now standing outside of Rogers Arena on this very cold day in Vancouver. I am really wishing I brought another coat, somehow I still have not trained my body to be adaptive in the cold.” She rolls her eyes but smiles nonetheless, “We’re going to go meet with some of the people who are helping me pull this off and if everything works out you should be seeing the video Tiffany is taking from behind me mashed with another video my friend is taking from the stands.”

『••✎••』

Y/n stands nervously in the tunnel, playing with her fingers and picking at the skin around her nails. She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet as she listened to the skating come to a halt. It was like her eyes were trained to find her family no matter where she was or where they were. As soon as everyone stopped and got into their lines, she let out a deep breath when her eyes focused on Quinn standing alongside the others. 

His hair was longer, that was for sure. He looked older, more mature than the last time she had seen them. The last time she had actually talked to them was a few days prior, probably about a week ago. She had texted them a few times but other than that, she was too nervous she would accidentally slip up and tell them about her plan. 

Her eyes moved and they zeroed in on Jack who was conveniently also standing next to Luke. Her eyes widened a bit when she saw Luke, he was taller, much taller than she remembered. Jack almost looked the same in her opinion, the only thing different was his hairstyle but even then, he looked like the younger brother who used to pester her when she wouldn’t make his Mac ‘n Cheese the way he wanted her to. 

On the other hand, the boys were standing, looking at the ground while their feet shuffled back and forth to help keep them steady on the ice. Jack and Luke shoved each other once or twice playfully throughout the opening speeches. Quinn had a million thoughts racing through his head. This would be his first time playing against Luke on big league ice, his first time playing his brothers as captain of his team, the first time they would all be playing together in the NHL on the same ice and she wasn’t here. 

He would never hate or relent his older sister for wanting to go off and study in another country, it was an amazing opportunity. He was, however, upset about everything that she had missed of his. Luke’s draft, Luke’s debut, Luke’s first goal, the start of Luke’s rookie season, Jack’s record-breaking season, him being announced captain, his first game as captain. 

While Jack and Luke weren’t thinking about this, Quinn couldn’t help it. Y/n was his big sister, the person he had looked up to for his whole life, the person who took care of him when he took a big hit on the ice, the person who helped him through his first relationship, the person who made him soup when he was sick. She was practically everything to him. And it hurt that she wasn’t here. 

“This isn’t something we normally do, but we figured since it was a special occasion we would make an exception.”

Everyone in the arena had practically gone quiet at the words, no one knew anything extra was happening tonight. A lot of friends looked at each other in confusion, the teams eyed one another - some knowling and some just as confused as the fans -, y/n got even more nervous as the words she had drilled into her head were spoken out loud. 

“As everyone knows, this is an incredible thing happening tonight, three brothers playing against each other.” The said boys rolled their eyes once more but still had smiles on their faces, “We do know that there is one person missing however.”

Many fans of y/n who happened to be in the audience knew almost exactly what was happening at this moment. While she hadn’t hinted at coming back home, who else would they have been talking about? She was the only Hughes in question who wasn’t here. 

“As she told me when she got here, she couldn’t miss another big milestone for her brothers. So after being away in Italy for 3 years, please welcome famous YouTuber and older sister of Quinn, Jack, and Luke Hughes, y/n Hughes!”

Cheers erupted as she stepped out onto the ice and she waved a little to the fans before being almost knocked to the ground by a body tackling her. Luke’s arms wrapped around his sister tightly, his head resting on hers. She smiled softly and wrapped her arms around him as well, “Hi Lukey.”

His voice was soft, “Hi.”

“When’d you get so tall?”

“I’ve always been tall, you’re just short.” He pulled away, his hands resting on her shoulders as he looked at her. His eyes slightly glistened with tears before he pulled her into another hug. He murmured something at first, causing y/n to have to ask him to repeat it, “I’m really really really really really happy you’re here. I don’t think I could’ve gone another six months without you.”

She frowned and squeezed him a little tired before he ultimately pulled away and let Jack scoop her into a hug as well. Compared to Luke’s, Jack’s hug was relatively short because he was now antsy. This would be the first time in years that he would be playing in front of her and he wanted to make her proud. So when he pulled away about a minute later she looked at him confused. He only smiled at her before speaking, “I got the zoomies now.”

She threw her head back as she laughed, shaking her head at him. Her eyes moved round once more to see Quinn standing a foot or two away from her. When she opened her arms, he all but dove into them like Luke had done earlier. He, however, shed a few tears as his head buried into the shoulder. She patted his back and suddenly she realized how many eyes were actually on them. So while she wanted to continue her reunion with the three of them, she whispered something into his ear and he pulled away nodding. 

She waved one more time at the fans as the applause and made her way to the stands where her parents were. Once she was even slightly near her parents, Ellen pulled her into a hug, asking her a bunch of questions about when and how she got there. 

『••✎••』

After the game, y/n stood with Jim and Ellen as they waited for the boys to be done. She was in the middle of catching them up on her trip here when someone came from behind and hugged her tightly, slightly lifting her up. She squealed and turned around to hit Jack on the arm, “Hey!”

“What?” He said innocently as he threw an arm around her shoulder, “Can I not hug my sister who I haven’t seen in three years?”

“Of course you can.” She wrapped her arms around his torso and side-hugged him, “You just can’t pick me up.”

He scoffed a little, “Someone’s picky.”

“Where’s Luke and Quinn?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. I was too excited to see you.”

At that moment, Luke and Quinn made their appearance right behind Jack and hit him over the head. Y/n rolled her eyes before hugging each of them, Quinn’s being a little longer than Luke’s. They all stared at each other once they stopped hugging and then they looked at their parents. 

“Can we go get dinner?” Jack asked.

She rolled her eyes, “Only if you’re paying rich boy.”

He shrugged before walking ahead of them. Y/n looped her arms through Quinn and Luke’s, walking down the hallway out of the arena, “Ah my favorite boys.”

“I heard that!”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

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[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: Tabito Karasu has been in love with you for almost as long as he can remember. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like you have any intentions of reciprocating, considering you’ve only ever seen him as a child — and, more importantly, as your best friend’s little brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Part One | Otoya Version

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Total Word Count: 41.6k

Content Warnings: reader is older than karasu (by like two years so it’s nbd but it exists), no blue lock au, bratty baby karasu, jealous karasu, slow burn, childhood friends, i have no idea how to write kids just deal w it, karasu’s older sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘karasu’s older sister’ the entire time), reader gets drunk at one point, karasu the goat of pining, yukimiya and otoya mentions ⁉️

A/N: yes this is inspired by the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious but has barely anything to do with it. yes this is probably the longest karasu fic you will ever read as of its publishing date (word count is not a typo it fr is that long). yes reader and karasu are fuck ass little kids for half of the fic. i have nothing to say for myself except that i love karasu so much and i cannot be stopped…also tumblr is an opp so i had to split this into two parts EEK i’m sorry!!

Tokyo was exactly as you remembered it. Both of your parents had been raised there, and so you had visited frequently when you were younger. You had fond memories of staying there with both sets of your grandparents before they had all, in turn, decided to move to calmer parts of the country, places which were not as frenetic and vibrant as the capital. After they had left, your family had had little reason to go back, so it had been some years since you had last made the trip, but in a way this move was just another kind of homecoming, for the chaos of the massive city was as familiar to you as the peace of your neighborhood.

“Everyone here talks like your parents,” Yayoi told you, the first day you both were able to meet up after you had moved. Your classes had not yet begun, but you were both finally unpacked and oriented in your new lives, so you had taken advantage of the last bits of free time you might have for a while to see one another. “It’s kind of funny.”

“Right?” you said. You had never fully adopted the accent of your home region, for you had been raised by a family which still spoke as if they were in Tokyo, but regardless it was strange to hear people other than your parents speaking in that way without affectation.

“Sometimes I end up saying the wrong thing and confusing people, but they figure out pretty quickly that it’s just the dialect I speak with, and then they ask for clarification if needed,” she said. “So I haven’t run into any major miscommunication problems yet, thankfully.”

“That’s good,” you said. “Are you excited to start classes?”

“Well, excited isn't exactly the word I’d use for it,” she said wryly. “Even if I’m the one who chose the subject, it’s still going to be a lot of work.”

“A ton of it,” you said, making a face. “You’re lucky, though. Your term doesn’t start for another week.”

“Well, it also ends a week later, so that doesn’t mean anything,” she said, sipping on the last few drops of her coffee — which she always ordered black, not because she liked it that way but because she was trying to keep up appearances and whatnot. “What about you?”

“I think classes and all will be a good distraction. It’ll be nice to have something to keep myself busy,” you said.

“What do you need to be distracted from?” she said.

“Just homesickness and stuff. The typical things you’d expect,” you said. She hummed sympathetically.

“I get it,” she said. “I miss my parents like crazy sometimes, especially when I need help with random stuff. The other day, I had to video call my mother so she could explain how to clean a cast iron pan.”

“You could’ve looked that up,” you said.

“Yeah, but it was nicer to hear it from her,” she said.

“Yeah,” you echoed, because it was the same for you. You often found yourself calling your parents for no reason at all, asking them stupid questions just to listen to them talk. “I’m glad to be on my own, but I do miss my mother and father a lot.”

“Anyone else?” she said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“Just wondering,” she said. “You know, come to think of it, you were kind of late coming to your seat. Freaked your parents out beyond belief. Any reason in particular?”

“I was just talking to Tabito,” you said. “Saying bye and all.”

“Are you going to miss him?” she prodded.

“Obviously. At this point, he’s like my brother, too. Isn’t it natural to miss your siblings?” you said.

“I don’t,” she said, though she immediately burst into laughter, which somewhat contradicted the statement.

“You’re horrible,” you said. “I know you do.”

“I do,” she affirmed. “But I think it’s in a different way than you do. It’s odd, because I’m the one who’s actually related to him, but the truth is that you two have always been closer than he and I ever were.”

“Probably because I’m not a jerk like you are,” you said.

“How can you consider yourself his additional older sister when you’re so nice to him? You need to bully him a bit more to earn that distinction,” she said.

“He hears enough of it out of you,” you said.

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that,” she said, holding up her paper cup and raising it to her lips, though you knew it was empty by now. You clinked your own against hers and finished the last remnants of your drink in one gulp. “You know, Y/N, I think you’re irreplaceable at this point.”

“You, too,” you said. “I’ll never be friends with anyone the way I am with you.”

“Fuck whoever we meet in college,” she said, nodding in approval. “I’m sure they’ll be cool and all, but the two of us, we hardly even count as friends anymore. It’s like we’re something more.”

“Exactly,” you said. “I can have a million more best friends, and likely I will, but never again will I have another Yayoi Karasu.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said. “Not for a moment.”

Your first year of college flew past in the blink of an eye. On the whole, you preferred it to high school, even though there were aspects of the past you still held dear, seeped with nostalgia as they were. You made new friends, as did Yayoi, but just like you both had predicted, none of them measured up to each other. Still, it was fun to meet people from all different regions in the country and to hear about their lives. Some of your classmates weren’t even from Japan at all, and there was another layer of fascination there, learning about the ways of other nations, the cultures and foods they were accustomed to, and teaching them about your own in exchange.

Your mid term breaks were a bit shorter than Yayoi’s, which meant you weren’t ever able to justify visiting home, but in return, you had much longer in between years, so while Yayoi was still stressing over her finals, you were already taking the train back to the station by your house, texting your parents all the while.

In your absence, your childhood room had remained untouched, the stuffed animals arranged on your bed in the exact order you preferred, the books still stacked on the shelves, your artwork and photos of you with your friends hanging on the walls where you had put them. Time felt frozen, and it was as if you had never left, as if your entire year in Tokyo had been a dream and this had always been the reality.

After eating dinner with your parents, you showered and changed into one of your father’s old shirts and a pair of sweatpants, flopping face-first onto your bed and taking a deep breath, already feeling yourself nodding off despite the fact that it wasn’t that late. Traveling always exhausted you, however, and it was all you could do to turn your lights off and crawl under the covers, plugging your phone in to charge as you drifted off.

Right when you were about to fall asleep for good, your phone’s screen blazed to life, startling you awake as it vibrated urgently. Groaning and cursing whoever was calling you, you glared at the device until you realized exactly who it was, and then your unhappiness was promptly replaced with glee as you clicked on the green answer button.

“Tabito!” you said. Although you had texted with him every now and then, you were ashamed to admit that you hadn’t spoken to him as much as you should’ve. You reasoned that he had had equal opportunity to reach out first and hadn’t, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was a feeble excuse that was only meant to deflect the blame from yourself and nothing more.

“Y/N,” he said. His voice was deeper than you remembered, and more resonant, too, lilting with a husky, full-bodied musicality that hadn’t been there when you had left. “Hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured him. “What’s up?”

“Do you remember — sorry, this is really stupid, so don’t feel bad for saying no,” he said.

“It’s okay. I’ve definitely seen you do way stupider things,” you said. He chuckled.

“You’re probably right. Here goes, then. Um, do you remember when you went to my first soccer game in middle school, and afterwards, we agreed you wouldn’t come to another until I was the captain of a really good high school team?” he said.

“I think so, why?” you said. A second later, it hit you, and you gasped, beaming so widely that your face ached. “No way! For Bambi Osaka? Since when?”

“Yup, for Bambi Osaka. The old captain just graduated, and he named me as his replacement today, so, uh, since today, I guess,” he said.

“I wish you would’ve told me in person so you could see how much I’m smiling right now,” you said. “Congratulations, Tabito! You can’t begin to know how proud I am of you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Anyways, our first game is this Thursday, so…”

“Huh? Did you want me to come?” you said. “Yayoi won’t be back from Tokyo by then, though. Shouldn’t I wait for her?”

“If you’d prefer that,” he said. “Or, I mean, you don’t have to go at all. I was just offering in case you were interested, but no hard feelings if not.”

Since when had he been so awkward with you? Since when had he stumbled over his words and been so unsure? You frowned at the mere chance that there was more than a physical distance between the two of you, even if it probably was the case, despite how much you had never wanted such an event to occur.

“As long as you want me, I’ll be there. I don’t have much else to do anyways, right? And how could I miss your first game as captain? Let me know where and when, and I’ll definitely come,” you said. He exhaled softly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I want you there. I’ll let you know the details, but like I said, no pressure. Don’t force yourself. Come if you can.”

It was springtime, and the world was still remembering how to come alive, peeking out its head from the den of winter and blinking its sleepy eyes against the sun. There were not any flowers in bloom quite yet, but as far as the eye could see were buds on the precipice of rupturing, the pale undersides of their petals mere imitations of the hues they’d soon display proudly. The birds still warmed eggs in nests made of twigs and twine, but already there were cracks in a few of the creamy shells; here and there, even, little yellow beaks could be seen reaching towards the sky and chittering incessant demands at their parents.

You were lazy as you pedaled your bike down the side streets leading towards the field where the match was being held. It was an away game, technically, but this worked out better for you, as the high school they were playing at was closer to your house than the Bambi Osaka stadium, which was far enough that you would’ve needed to take a taxi.

According to Tabito, the game was actually more of a scrimmage, as they were playing a local school’s soccer club instead of another organization’s youth team, as they did in serious matches. Apparently, this was by design, as it gave their coach the opportunity to test Tabito's skills at being a captain in a low-stakes, low-pressure environment. If he proved himself incapable, the coach would override the previous captain’s pick and name another member of the team to the position, but if he played as well as he always did, and managed to coordinate the rest of the players in a satisfactory manner, then he’d be given the position permanently.

You had reminded him that this meant he technically wasn’t the captain yet, but to this he had said that he had the title and the armband, and if anything, since that was the situation, he needed you there more than ever. After all, he had explained, you had been in the audience when he had scored the winning goal in his first game for his middle school’s team. You were good luck for him. If you were in the crowd, then there was no way he could lose.

Parking your bike in the lot alongside the others, you locked it and then made your way towards the entrance to the stadium, the ticket Tabito had sent you in between your index and middle fingers. Even though there wouldn’t be very many people attending this game, it was Bambi Osaka’s policy to require tickets for entry to any of their matches, and the price if you weren’t associated with a player was, you heard, quite hefty.

You sat by yourself in the stands, your purse beside you and your legs crossed at the ankles. You couldn’t explain why, but there was a doubt in the back of your mind about whether you even belonged in the audience at all. Without Yayoi at your side, it felt like there was a neon sign in the air pointing at you and declaring you inept and unwelcome. Everyone else was buzzing with theories and predictions for the upcoming game, tossing out the names of the players and their opinions on them, but you were by yourself, without even a drink to warm your hands.

The gray of that isolation evaporated the moment that the Bambi Osaka boys took to the field, led by none other than Tabito. You were suddenly reminded that you weren’t just allowed to be there — you were wanted, genuinely wanted, and so you had as much if not more of a claim to your seat than anyone else could. Tabito had invited you. He could’ve invited anyone else in the entire city, but still he had invited you, and you would not tarnish that by thinking you were alone when he was there, as he always was.

As was to be expected, there was a complete difference to the way Tabito played when compared to that very first game of his which you had watched. For one, he was at the front of the field instead of in the middle, and there was an impertinence to the way he shook the hand of the opposing captain, an audacious smirk on his face which was visible even from the distance. This was a side of Tabito you weren’t so acquainted with, a side which was brazen and self-assured and stood as if he had already won before the referee even blew the whistle to begin.

The game moved faster than you could keep up with, and without Yayoi there to give you a play-by-play, you found yourself utterly lost about the finer details of the match. Still, even you could tell that Bambi Osaka was in the lead, and by no small margin — largely in part thanks to the combined skills of Tabito and a slender, pale-haired boy whose jersey read Hiori.

When Tabito was younger, there had been a desperate, vicious quality to his soccer, as if he really might die should he lose. It was in direct contrast to now, where he toyed with the opposite team in much the same way a cat would toy with a ball of yarn — with a distinct sense of superiority, like he was looking down on them even as he forced his way past, not giving them any other choice but to watch as he drove his way down the field.

“Is number 10 the new captain?” a boy behind you said. He sounded younger; maybe he had an older brother on one of the teams, or maybe he was just that supportive of Bambi Osaka. You didn’t turn, but you did tune into the conversation, wondering what they’d say about Tabito.

“Karasu? Yes, he is,” a slightly older boy said. “My brother said he’s a real asshole, but he’s a great guy when it counts. They’re all happy he’s the one who was recommended for the spot.”

“He’s so good,” the younger boy said. “And Hiori, as well. They’re both amazing.”

“Hiori’s only a first year, too. I bet he’s going to go far,” the older boy said. “Now shush, quit distracting me. I’m trying to watch the game.”

To no one’s surprise, Bambi Osaka won by a ridiculous amount of goals, and as Tabito shook hands with the school’s captain again, you noticed their coach nodding in approval, annotating something on his clipboard with a satisfied smile on his face. You waited until all of them had vanished into the locker rooms to head to the exit and wait by your bike for Tabito to join you.

About twenty minutes later, he and the rest of the team trickled out, discussing their game and the plans for the next one. At first it seemed like he had not noticed you, absorbed in conversation as he was, but it quickly became evident that he had, for he skillfully guided the others towards where you stood, never faltering in words nor steps until he reached you. Then he paused, schooling his expression into one of shock, his eyebrows raising and his lips parting as if he had happened upon you entirely by accident. It was an amusing bit of theatrics, albeit realistic to anyone who did not know his mannerisms as well as you did.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, all composed and airy and dispassionate, as if it were mere coincidence that the two of you had met at that moment, as if it hardly mattered to him that you were there. It might’ve fooled another person, but not once in his life had he been able to fool you, and he certainly wouldn’t start today.

He must’ve showered in the locker rooms, for his hair fell loose and silky around his face instead of styled back as it typically was, and when you hugged him — which was met a reflexive return of his arms around your body before he could even manage to yelp in surprise — you could smell the faint, pleasant scent of his soap which still clung to his skin.

“Hi,” you said, holding onto him for as long as you deemed publicly appropriate before wriggling free and smiling at him. “I think you did good. Without Yayoi, I couldn’t be sure, but to me you looked great.”

“Eh,” he said. “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been better. But thanks.”

“Woah, Karasu,” one of his teammates said. He was a tall and burly player who reminded you vaguely of Aoyama, and he accompanied the exclamation by wrapping one arm around Tabito in a friendly headlock and using his free hand to ruffle the boy’s damp hair, leaving him to resemble a sea urchin. “You didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful girlfriend! Hello, ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Get off of me,” Tabito wheezed, slapping his teammate away. “You fuckface, I’m going to kill you. Don’t try to shake her hand!”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you said, accepting his teammate’s proffered hand. “Just best friends with his older sister. You can think of me as a stand-in for her while she’s finishing up her first year in Tokyo. My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Ah, you’re that Y/N!” he said.

“I believe I am? What does that mean?” you said.

“Nothing bad,” Tabito cut in. “Yayoi’s come to a few games and mentioned you, so everyone’s been wanting to meet you.”

“It’s true. I mean, a girl who refused to come to a game until and unless Karasu was made captain? We all thought you must be something intense,” his teammate said. “You seem pretty normal, though. And also super hot, if you don’t mind me mentioning.”

“Well, he’s the one who told me not to come, so if anyone’s intense, it’s him,” you said. “And, uh, thanks? I guess?”

“I mind you mentioning, so shut the hell up,” Tabito said, finally breaking free of his teammate’s hold and shoving him away from you. “Sorry about this one, Y/N. He’s incorrigible.”

His teammate laughed raucously. “My fault, my fault. Sorry, Karasu.”

“Say sorry to her,” Tabito said. “She’s the one you were bothering.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. “Really, I don’t mind the compliment. Even if it could’ve been phrased better.”

“Anything for you, gorgeous lady,” his teammate said with a wink. “But, ah, considering I value my life and limbs, I think I’m going to head out now, as our new captain seems about a few seconds away from murdering me. See you around!”

He ran away to rejoin the rest of the Bambi Osaka boys as they all headed in their separate directions towards their homes, leaving you and Tabito alone once more. As soon as they were all gone, he sighed, that put-upon countenance he had maintained for the entirety of the conversation falling apart in an instant.

“I didn’t think he’d say all of that,” he said. “Sorry again.”

“You worry so much,” you said. “Come on, you just won another match, didn’t you? That’s cause to celebrate, so don’t look so tired and mopey.”

“I don’t look tired and mopey!” he defended. “This is just how my face is!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you said, unlocking your bike and beginning to walk it beside you so you could keep talking to him. “I seem to remember your face being quite a bit rounder and sunnier. Now you’re all angles and doom and gloom.”

“That’s not something I can help,” he said, taking your bike from you so he could walk it instead. “Y/N, you’re being mean. I haven’t seen you in so long and now you’re acting like Yayoi.”

“You think I’m acting like Yayoi? I’m hurt,” you said. “Okay, then, you sensitive captain. How about we go get ice cream? My treat, since you got the position and all.”

“Okay,” he said. “But it’ll be my treat, not yours, because you came to my game and stayed the whole time. It was your good luck that helped me in the end.”

“Offering to pay for me? I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll allow it this time. Anyways, I would’ve had to, because I just realized I left my wallet at home,” you said.

“Almost like you did that on purpose,” he mused, bumping your shoulder with his. “Was that your plan all along? Suggesting we get ice cream but forgetting to bring any money, so I had to cover for us both?”

“I see why your team members think you’re an asshole,” you said. “It’s a surprise, to be sure, but then again, maybe I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Who’s calling me an asshole?” he said. “How did you know that? I’m not! Whoever it is, they were making things up, because I’m — I’m super nice! Seriously, where did you hear that? Stop giggling and answer me!”

You extended your arm to run your fingers through his mussed up hair, smoothing it down as best as you could. “A magician never tells her secrets. Don’t worry about it and just tell me which flavor you’re getting.”

“The same as always, why?” he said.

“I want to decide whether I should steal some of it or not,” you said.

“You don’t have to steal it. I’ll share if you want some,” he said.

“It’s better if I’m doing something wrong. I think it adds to the flavor, or enhances it, or something,” you said. He considered this before nodding with the utmost of gravity.

“If that’s how it is, then you’re absolutely not allowed to even look at my ice cream. I’ll be, uh, super mad if you do,” he said, his glare so fearsome and dark that it skipped the realms of intimidation and landed squarely in the land of comedy.

“You’re the best,” you said.

“I do what I can,” he said. “Will you let me have some of yours?”

“Hm,” you said. “Fine, but only because I love you so much.”

He fought back a smile at that, staring directly ahead, the tendons of his hands flexing on the handlebars of your bike as you continued to walk along the empty sidewalk, the glowing sun in the distance a reminder of the many days exactly like this which you still had left to spend.

The break flew by so quickly it was almost more of a punishment than anything. About as soon as you had gotten settled back into a rhythm of spending your days with the Karasus and your evenings with your parents, it was time for you and Yayoi to return to Tokyo for your second year of college, as well as for Tabito to enter his final year of high school.

You took for granted that you would be back as soon as the first term ended, so when you boarded the train to Tokyo, you didn’t take the time to properly appreciate the place where you had grown up. The city where you had whiled away your idyllic childhood…you had considered it a guarantee that you’d return soon, so why would you linger? But a couple of weeks into your first term, you got news from your parents: your father’s job had, almost out of the blue, transferred him, and so they would be moving to nearby Kawasaki by the end of the month.

There was definitely a pro to having your parents at that distance — they were close enough that you could visit them whenever you wanted to, but far enough that you could justify not going if you were so inclined, and removed enough that your life still belonged to you and only you. Still, it was a little like having a rug pulled out from under you when you weren’t even aware you were standing on a rug in the first place; especially because you could not so much as help in the moving process, given that you were stuck at school and could make no excuse to go back home for such a long time.

The house they found in Kawasaki was in a good area, and though it was smaller than your old one, it was still airy and bright, with large windows and wooden floors and enough bedrooms that you could still have your own despite not living there full-time anymore. Your parents were actually glad for the reduced size, for it meant less emptiness, less cleaning to be done in places that never even got used or looked at.

When you went to visit during the first term break, it seemed like they really were happy there. Or perhaps they were just trying to convince you that this was for the best, that you should not be sad, but if that was so, then they shouldn’t have bothered. You were the one who had left first, who had gone to Tokyo to study and work. Of course it was more abrupt and final than you had wanted, but hadn’t this day always been looming on the horizon? Eventually, you would’ve stopped visiting so frequently, if at all. There was no reason to mourn the occurrence of an inevitability.

Besides the drama of your parents’ move, your second year was uneventful. You made even more friends than you had in your first year, and you still saw Yayoi as much as you could, although it was more difficult for the time being. Luckily, at this point you two had the kind of friendship wherein you picked up as if you had never been apart whenever you reunited, so you at least had that one constant in what sometimes felt like an ever-shifting life.

Around the time that your finals began, you received a text from Tabito, written in a formal language that was nothing like the messages full of abbreviations and emoticons that he generally sent you.

‘Hi, Y/N. I hope you’re doing well, and that your second year in university didn’t give you too much difficulty. I’m just reaching out to let you know that my graduation is next Friday. The ceremony starts at 6:30 in the evening, and I managed to reserve you a spot. The address and information is on the ticket — if you’re able to come, then I’d really appreciate it, but if not, then that’s totally okay. I just thought I should let you know.’

You stared at your phone, a sinking feeling in your stomach. No matter how much you wanted to go, you couldn’t. There were too many factors against it, and you felt horrible as you typed out your response. Any way you went about it came across as too harsh, but then again, was there even a gentle way to reject someone when they had come to you with something so important?

‘tabito!! i can’t believe you’re graduating already, wow!! i really would like to come, but i have a final that friday in the afternoon :( plus i don’t know if you heard or not but my family moved to kawasaki, so i wouldn’t really have anywhere to stay. thank you so much for inviting me though!! i’ll get yayoi to bring a cardboard cutout of me to put in my seat or something LOL. it’ll be just like the real thing!!!’

He responded almost immediately, and despite the effort he must’ve made to sound unaffected, he was obviously disappointed by the turn of events, his efforts at cheer only further highlighting that fact.

‘It’s okay, really! And thank you. Haha yes a Y/N cutout will have to be good enough then. Good luck on your final!’

The rest of the week, the unopened file from Tabito, which sat in your email inbox, tantalized you, and you found yourself obsessively checking the schedule of trains leaving Tokyo. There was one back to your hometown that would depart an hour after your exam was scheduled to end, and you refreshed it constantly, waiting to see if tickets would sell out. Once they were gone, it would give you an excuse not to buy them, but to your frustration, they never did.

You would have to run, and even then it wasn’t a guarantee you would make it, to the train or the graduation, but it was the best chance you had, and with every passing moment, it began to sound like more and more of a viable option.

On Thursday evening, when you once again checked the ticket site and noticed there were open seats, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from swearing, and then you entered your credit card information into the prompt. A minute later, you got a confirmation email, letting you know that your seat was booked for the next day. Burying your face in your hands, you inhaled deeply, vowing not to tell Tabito in case he got his hopes up for nothing. Breathing in and out through your nose once more, you straightened your back and opened up your textbook, returning to studying with a renewed vigor borne of the adrenaline rush which resulted from the impulsive decision.

If your professor found it odd that you came to the exam hall in formal clothes, with your hair done and an overnight bag over your shoulder, she did not say anything, only motioning for you to put your bag with the others and then handing you your paper.

Thankfully, you had studied through the year, and this exam was for one of your easier subjects, so it was a relative breeze. You finished with time to spare, leaving the hall with your things and walking to the train station without any worries except for what would happen once you reached your end destination.

The train ride was longer than you remembered, and by the time you were disembarking at the station closest to Tabito’s high school, it was already 6:00. You sprinted through the platform, calling out apologies as you ran into people or elbowed them out of the way, trying to get to the taxi area before anyone else could claim all of the available vehicles.

“Stop!” you shouted when the singular remaining taxi prepared to drive off to a different pick-up location. You must’ve looked a sight, chasing after a taxi by the train station, wearing a dress and heels, stumbling over your feet with your arm outstretched. “Hey, sir! Stop!”

By some miracle, he saw you through the rearview mirror and screeched to a halt. You opened the back door and dove in, scribbling down the address on a slip of paper and handing it to him, as was customary. Then, when he input the address into his GPS and accelerated onto the route, you leaned forward.

“Sir, I’ll tip you generously if you can get me there before 6:30,” you said.

“I will do my best, ma’am. Please hold on,” he said. That was all the warning you got before he stepped on the gas pedal, the car taking off at all but twice the speed of the surrounding traffic, leaving you to hold onto your seat as the scenery outside blurred into nothing but a smear of pinks and greens and browns.

He got you there at 6:27, which was too close for comfort but still earlier than should’ve been humanly possible, so you reached into your wallet and pulled out a wad of cash that was certainly more than you owed. Slapping it on the console, you mumbled out a thank you and ran off without waiting for a response, trying your best to remember the directions to the auditorium from the email Tabito had sent you.

“Do you have a ticket, miss?” the security guard waiting at the door to the auditorium said. You reached into your pocket and tried to unlock your phone; your slick fingers typed in the wrong password twice before it finally opened and you could brandish the file. He squinted at it before nodding and opening the door for you. “The ceremony has already begun, so please try not to make too much of a disturbance when you enter.”

Your shins and the balls of your feet ached from how much ground you had covered in your less-than-supportive footwear and the speed at which you had done so. Your shoulder, too, was sore under the strain of your bag, but you ignored these pains, counting down the rows and the seat numbers until you spotted the empty one that belonged to you. Squeezing past the others who had already taken their places, you collapsed in the cushioned chair, a sigh of relief escaping you when you saw that, though the ceremony was already underway, Tabito was still yet to go.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Yayoi said absentmindedly, for your seat was naturally beside hers. Then, like she had realized what she had said, her jaw dropped. “Y/N? I thought you couldn’t come!”

“Shh, he’s about to go,” you said. “I’ll explain later.”

If you had hesitated for even a minute at any point, you would’ve missed it, but by the grace of some universal power, you had made it into your seat right as Tabito stepped up to take his diploma. He scanned the crowd, much in the same way he did when he was playing soccer, but sadly instead of sharply, like he was aware that he was about to be disappointed yet knew he had to experience that disappointment first-hand regardless.

His eyes slid over everyone in the audience dismissively, but when they landed upon you, they paused, and though it was too far for you to see, you fancied they must’ve widened the slightest bit. Not enough for anyone else to make anything of it, but enough for you to know.

For an instant, everyone else disappeared. In that auditorium, there was only Tabito on the stage and you in the audience, his diploma slack in his grasp, your breaths still fast and uneven. And although there was a distance, and no small one at that, between you and him, it was as if you were right by his side, as if you could see every single emotion which flickered across his face. Shock. Disbelief. Wonder. Then, finally, a sheer, childish thing which could only be called joy — unabashed and whole and candid joy. He smiled in the way he only did for you, not for anyone else in the entire world, not smug and haughty but shy and sincere, and you could not help but smile as well, raising your hand and waving at him like he always did at you.

He was taken aback, but obviously delighted, and so, as the principal announced his name and read off his accomplishments while with the school, Tabito ignored the praise and the applause, focusing solely on returning your wave with one of his own.

“What are you doing here?” he said, sweeping you into a hug as soon as you had all left the auditorium and he had reunited with his family. “You said you couldn’t come!”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Yayoi said from where she was waiting at your side. “And Tabito, when you’re done showing your clearfavoritism, give me a high-five or something.”

He held onto you for a moment longer before letting go and high-fiving his sister, who was the only one that hadn’t been there for when Mr. and Mrs. Karasu, as well as Tabito and Yayoi’s grandmother, had taken teary eyed photos with him. She had instead stayed with you, telling you that you owed her an explanation and then jumping to another topic of conversation before you could give her one.

“There was a train from Tokyo which left an hour after my exam window ended,” you said. “I know you don’t like surprises, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it, so I didn’t want to tell you in advance in case things didn’t work out. As it is, I had to bribe the taxi driver to get me here from the station at highly illegal speeds, and with that, I only made it to the front of the building by 6:27. Honestly, I still can’t believe I got there before you went at all, but I’m so glad I did.”

“Me, too. You’re right that I don’t normally like surprises, but this one, I was really happy about, so it’s an exception,” Tabito said. Now that he was no longer under obligation to hang around with Yayoi, he was back at your side, playing with the zipper of your bag in fascination while you spoke.

“Me, three,” Yayoi said. “He was seriously depressed that you weren’t coming. The house was like a toxic wasteland the entire week. It’s going to be much safer and cleaner now.”

“Toxic wasteland?” you said.

“Yup, and the toxic waste himself is right next to you, so be careful,” she said.

“You’re so dramatic. It wasn’t like that,” Tabito said.

“Sure,” she said. “Yup. Totally wasn’t.”

“Why do you always do this?” he whined.

“Do what?” Yayoi said.

“Try to embarrass me whenever you can!” he said.

“Not like it’s possible for me to embarrass you in front of Y/N out of everyone. You do that all on your own, so there’s no way I can make things worse,” she said.

“Yayoi!” he snapped.

“Onto more pressing subjects,” you interjected before things could worsen. “Um. I do have a slight problem.”

“What is it?” Tabito said.

“I kind of came here on a whim, so I don’t really have anywhere to sleep, exactly,” you said. The siblings exchanged looks before Yayoi rolled her eyes and Tabito grabbed your bag from you.

“You’ll stay with us, of course,” Yayoi said.

“For as long as you want,” Tabito added. “Or as long as you can, actually. That’s better. Don’t leave until you absolutely have to.”

“We can put your bags in the car, and then we have to take pictures,” Yayoi said.

“I didn’t know you cared enough to want to commemorate my graduation,” Tabito said. Yayoi snorted.

“Nah, I just want to commemorate Y/N’s wild journey from Tokyo, and the fact that she magically got here on time. I don’t ever want to forget about that,” she said.

“I’d be offended, but actually, I’m in agreement. I can’t believe you bribed a taxi driver for me,” Tabito said.

“Ah, well, you know,” you said. “I just told him I’d tip him if he could get me there on time, and he did it.”

“You’re crazy,” he said affectionately.

“Totally,” Yayoi agreed.

“And aren’t you grateful for it?” you said, curling your fingers around his wrist and throwing the other arm around Yayoi’s shoulders, causing her to shoot you a mock-dirty look before she made herself comfortable against you.

“Yes,” Tabito said, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks when he lowered them bashfully, that same smile lighting up his face at the sensation of your fingers dancing over his veins. “I really am.”

The world was quite determined not to split you and the Karasus apart for very long. You learned that night that, along with getting into a prestigious college, Tabito had also been selected to join the Japanese U-20 soccer team. In order to balance his academics — he could’ve quit school entirely by this point if he so chose, but he was far too paranoid to not have a second option should his soccer career not take off — with the new demands of the team, he would be living in Tokyo with one of his new teammates, a boy he had never met but was supposedly named something along the lines of Eita Otoya.

His new place was somewhat close to your apartment; close was a subjective word, of course, but to you, when the weather was nice and you were in no rush to be anywhere or do anything, it was a perfectly walkable distance, and you told him you’d definitely show him and Otoya around once they were moved in and had a moment to spare for such a frivolous outing.

Between his practices and the increase in his workload, it seemed like you really might never see Tabito at all, however close you might’ve now been to him physically. Yet somehow, on a warm day at the brink of summer, he texted you asking if the offer was still on the table, and if so, could you please show him and Otoya a place to get good coffee, because the stuff they made with their Keurig machine wasn’t cutting it anymore. You laughed, responding that you’d be delighted to, and that you were free all weekend, with no qualms about dedicating a day solely to them.

Your first impression of Eita Otoya was that, next to Tabito, he had a delicate and pointed appeal to his pretty features. He was smaller than Tabito, and although there wasn’t an ounce of menace in the way he stood, all inviting and open and casual, there was a wolflike canniness to his green irises, which glimmered when he noticed you approaching.

Before Otoya could even say anything, Tabito had covered his mouth with a hand, glaring down at him in a manner which did not seem to entirely be in jest.

“No way,” he said. “Flirt with whoever else you want, but she and Yayoi are off limits.”

Otoya held his hands up in the air, his voice muffled by Tabito’s palm when he spoke. “Got it, dude. Plenty of other fish in the sea, right?”

“For you, yeah,” Tabito said. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Tabito,” you said. “And you must be Otoya? It’s nice to meet you. Tabito’s mentioned you a few times.”

“Hopefully he’s only said good things,” Otoya said, shaking your hand, careful to keep a cordial distance between you two.

“On the contrary, I’ve been led to believe you’re the devil incarnate,” you said.

“Really?” Otoya said.

“No, of course not. He’s only ever spoken highly of you. I was just joking,” you said.

“That’s a relief,” Otoya said. “It’d be awkward if you had a bad impression of me before we’d even met.”

“Did you really think I’d complain about you to her? I’m kind of hurt,” Tabito said.

“Look, you never know! Maybe that’s how you get your aggression out,” Otoya said.

“It’s not. If I had any aggression, I’d just yell at you yourself. I definitely wouldn’t burden her with any of your hypothetical nonsense, not in a million years,” Tabito said.

“Woah, didn’t realize we had a gentleman here,” Otoya said with a snicker. “Okay, then. Thanks for not talking shit about me behind my back.”

“Anytime,” Tabito said.

“Are you two done yet?” you said. “I don’t want the place to close before we get a spot.”

“Is it nearby?” Otoya said. “As long as it’s close, it doesn’t even matter if it’s expensive. I just need something better than those shitty convenience store Keurig packets Tabito’s been getting for us.”

“That’s the best I’ve been able to bring home at the random times you text me telling me we’re out! Sorry I don’t stop by a damn café after every morning practice,” Tabito said.

“This guy,” Otoya said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Doesn’t understand the value of a good coffee one bit.”

“Not everyone has that touch,” you whispered back with a wink. “It’s alright. I won’t let you suffer any longer; the shop I’m taking you to is only a block away, and it’s relatively inexpensive — for the city, anyways. If you don’t know that it’s there, though, it’s easy to miss, so I don’t blame you for not seeing it.”

“My hero!” Otoya said. “Lead the way.”

You had discovered the small café entirely by accident during your first year in Tokyo. It was tucked away between a laundromat and a veterinary office, far from where one would expect a shop of its nature to be located, and although there was were always a couple of patrons scattered throughout the booths and tables, it was never bustling or crowded enough to take away from the cozy atmosphere.

Tabito held the door open for you, and consequently for Otoya, who followed after and inhaled deeply, clasping his hands together in awe.

“This is amazing,” he said. “L/N, you’re like an angel sent from heaven or something. I could fall to my knees and praise you with a sonnet right now, I’m that happy.”

“If you fall to your knees or do anything similarly stupid in front of her, I’ll show you why I made the U-20 team,” Tabito said, raising his leg in the air like he was threatening to kick Otoya.

“He was just joking around, Tabito, it’s not a big deal,” you said. Then, to Otoya: “You’re pretty funny, you know.”

“Thanks,” he said with a grin. “I try my best. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

“Mostly it doesn’t,” Tabito muttered under his breath. “Tell me your order, Y/N, and I’ll get it for you.”

“Oh, thanks!” you said, listing off your favorites from the cafe’s menu for him. He wrote it down on his phone, lines of concentration etched into his brow as he painstakingly typed out the entire order before showing it to you to confirm that it was correct.

“Can you get me their seasonal drink?” Otoya said, sliding into the seat across from you and peering up at Tabito, who was entirely unamused by the act. “That floral-type latte. It sounds sick.”

“Get it yourself,” Tabito said.

“Why? You’re going to be up there, so just order and let me get to know dear Miss L/N here,” Otoya said. Tabito seemed conflicted, but you nodded reassuringly at him.

“Fine, but you — you know the deal,” he said, brandishing his pointer finger at Otoya. “Don’t you dare mess with her.”

“You got it,” Otoya said with a double-thumbs-up.

“I’m sorry. He’s always been like that, but he really does mean well,” you said, gazing after Tabito once he had stomped away to the counter.

“Been like what?” Otoya said. “An asshole? Ah, but I’m only saying it affectionately, so please don’t tell him I called him that, or else you’ll cause problems where there aren’t any.”

“He’s sweet at heart,” you said. “I know how he can seem to other people, especially at first, but I met him when he was four years old, so I guess I never really saw that side of him. He’s never been anything but kind to me. I guess that’s all I’m trying to say.”

“You’ve known Karasu for that long?” Otoya said.

“Yup. Like I said, I’m not denying that he’s abrasive most of the time, but he’s only being so protective because he cares about his sister and I so very much. Please don’t take it personally. He’s just that type of younger sibling,” you said.

“Younger sibling?” Otoya repeated. “That’s how you see him, huh? I get it now. If that’s how things are, then I won’t butt in.”

“That’s how they are,” you said. For some reason, this caused him to laugh at you, but it was pitying and mocking and not a sound you preferred to hear from anyone — most certainly not from a person you had only just met.

“It’s always so complicated in life, huh? That’s why I never really try too hard. Problems get worse the more you think about them,” he said. It hardly counted as an explanation, but for some reason, you were sure that that was all you were going to get out of him. “Oh, shit!”

“What happened?” you said as, abruptly and without warning, he shot to his feet,

“I was supposed to work on a group presentation today,” he said, running a hand through his hair with a groan. “They just texted to confirm that we’re meeting in the library in fifteen minutes.”

“Can you make it on time?” you said. He was already typing the address of his school’s library into his GPS, and the instant it loaded, he nodded at you.

“I’ve got it, but I’m afraid I’ll have to head out right about now, or else this crazy girl in my group will kill me. Tell Karasu I’ll send him the money for my drink, and that he can enjoy it on me,” he said. “Poor guy needs it, I’m pretty sure.”

“It’ll be too sweet for him, but I’ll pass along the message, sure,” you said.

“Now, normally, this would be the part where I’d ask you for your number, but no matter how beautiful you are, I’m not willing to risk my living situation for you,” he said. “Karasu’s pretty cool, as far as roommates go. It could definitely be worse, so I’d really not like to lose him and end up with some weirdo who collects toenail clippings, just for flirting with the one girl that he declared off-limits.”

“His actual sister’s off-limits as well,” you reminded Otoya. “So that’s two.”

“He did say that, didn’t he? But you’re off-limits in a different way, and unless I want to end up like my own older sister, whose first-year roommate built a replica of the Taj Mahal from the hair she collected out of their drain, I’m going to respect that,” he said.

“That’s disgusting,” you said, too busy gagging at the mental image artwork he had just described to even question what else he was talking about. “Well, you should be off to your group project, then. I’m sure I’ll see you around, Otoya, but in case it’s not for a while, I’ll wish you luck with soccer and school now.”

“Thanks. The same to you, and I am eternally in your debt for showing me this place, so if you ever need something, let me know,” he said, scrambling hastily out of the café without bothering to push his chair back under the table.

Tabito returned a few seconds later, setting the tray of your drinks down on the table and taking his spot in the booth at your side. Handing you the cup that belonged to you, he sipped on his own and placed Otoya’s across from himself.

“Where’d Otoya go?” he said.

“He said something about working on a group project and left. Apparently, he’ll send you the money for the drink, and you’re free to do with it as you please,” you said. Tabito wrinkled his nose.

“He always gets such sweet shit. There’s no way I’m going to be able to drink that,” he said.

“That’s what I told him, but what other option is there? We can share so it isn’t wasted,” you said, taking a swig from Otoya’s flowery beverage. It wasn’t bad, and you had a little more before giving it to Tabito.

“Ugh,” he said. “Fine.”

He poked out his tongue, lapping up the tiniest droplet of coffee which lingered on the rim of the cup, and then he made a face, handing it back to you and then gulping down two mouthfuls of his own drink to wash out the taste.

“That bad?” you said.

“Tasted like shit,” he said. “I don’t know how the two of you can drink that kind of stuff regularly without gagging.”

“It’s not my favorite, but it’s not as horrible as you’re making it out to be,” you said.

“I can literally feel my arteries clogging as we speak,” he said.

“Since when did you start speaking like an old man?” you said. “What boy your age talks about his arteries clogging?”

“Firstly, I’m trying to become a professional athlete, so I have to pay careful attention to things like my health, and secondly, we’re not that far apart in age. We have to worry about the same things, like jobs and grades and clogged arteries. Concerns of that nature,” he said.

“I’m glad you feel that way, but why’d you think I was referring to people my own age when I said old man, hm?” you said, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. “For your information, I doubt any of my own classmates would care about that shit yet, either. That was a distinctly middle-aged thing of you to say.”

“That makes me older than you,” he said. “If I’m middle-aged and you’re still all youthful and whatnot, that is. How do you feel about that age gap? It’s a little racy, don’t you think?”

You gave him an incredulous look. He couldn’t even maintain his straight face for more than a second, immediately losing composure and snorting at you.

“You’re the worst,” you said.

“And you’re easy to tease,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I had to take the opportunity when it presented itself.”

“I’ll give it to you this once,” you said. “Next time, you’re not getting off so easily.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “You’re all talk. I’m not scared one bit.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so adorable,” you said. “How am I supposed to stay mad when you look like you just watched a puppy die every time Yayoi yells at you?”

He scowled at you. “You’re making that up, aren’t you? Or is that how you actually see me?”

“Hm,” you said. “Let’s finish our drinks. They don’t taste as good if they’ve sat for too long.”

Huffing in exasperation but knowing that you’d not go into more detail once you’d changed the subject, he finished off what was left of his order in one fell swoop, and then he snatched Otoya’s drink from your hands, tossing it into the trashcan before you could so much as blink.

“Aw,” you said. “I feel bad. That’s how we’re responding to Otoya’s act of goodwill?”

“Forget about his goodwill,” Tabito said. “It’s not like he did it because of how magnanimous he is or anything. He’s just a dumbass who forgot that he had prior commitments.”

“Nothing like you, of course,” you said. “You’re always on time, and you only ever order the best of drinks.”

“Exactly,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument — not that you would’ve argued with him, even if there was any cause to. Your father had always told you that generally, it was better to lose an argument than a loved one, and since the notion of losing Tabito was akin to a spear being driven into your heart, you did your best to avoid the chance of that frightful outcome ever occurring at all.

A few days before the end of the winter term, Yayoi called you in a flurrying panic. When you picked up, you were expecting her to be asking about the plans you had made for the road trip you two were taking, but it was nothing of the sort. Indeed, the first words out of her mouth were ones you had never once heard from her, and you almost dropped your phone the moment she said them.

“Y/N, I need your help. There’s this guy—”

“What?” you said. “Since when? What’s his name? Where did you meet him, and how? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Is he handsome?”

“Oh my god, one question at a time!” she said. “Yes, he’s super handsome — actually, he’s a model, so it’s kind of a prerequisite. I’m telling you as it happens, so don’t think I’m keeping things from you! His name is Kenyu Yukimiya; he plays for the U-20 team with Tabito, and I met him when I went to one of their practices because I was bored. We spoke once, but I don’t think he remembers I exist, and even if he does, he probably considers me as nothing more than his teammate’s older sister.”

“Wait, U-20? Is he younger than us?” you said.

“Yes, he’s in Tabito’s year, though a couple of months older than him,” she said. “Do you think it’s weird? Oh, it’s totally weird, isn’t it? I’m a creep! I’m a stupid, ugly creep! Lock me away or turn me into the police or something!”

You cut her wailing off with a snicker. “Yayoi, relax. It’s not that weird, and I mean that honestly. It’s hardly even a two year difference, right? My own parents have a bigger age gap, and besides, you both are in pretty similar spots in life, so it shouldn’t be a problem, especially if he’s mature.”

“He seemed mature,” she said contemplatively. “He was super polite and kind when I spoke to him. Plus, unlike my stupid brother, he actually enjoys talking about the same things I do.”

“There you go, then,” you said. “You’re worrying for nothing. The only reason why anyone might say anything is because you’re older than him, but who cares about that? It’s a tired concept, the whole notion of the woman needing to be younger or smaller than her male partner or whatever. As long as he’s single and into you, I’d say you’re in the clear.”

“That’s what I actually called you to talk about!” Yayoi said. “You’ve had a boyfriend, so you know a little more than I do about this kind of thing. How am I supposed to get him to ask me out?”

“Just so you know, having had one boyfriend back in high school doesn’t exactly qualify me to give you advice,” you said. “Also, you can’t really get someone to ask you out. Why don’t you just go to another one of their practices and talk to him again once they’re done? If the conversation is flowing well, then you can ask him out yourself.”

“Um, that would be a great idea if I was brave enough to ask someone out,” she said. “Unfortunately, I definitely am not.”

“You don’t have to be all official and serious about it,” you said. “Don’t say you want to date or anything — ask him if he wants to hang out to continue the conversation at a later time, and then give him your number. That’s all. If he’s interested, he’ll call or text you to make plans, and if he’s not, then he won’t.”

“It’s that simple?” she said.

“I think it is,” you said. “I wouldn’t know from personal experience. Aoyama just asked me out. I never had to do anything.”

“Not all of us can be that lucky!” she said.

“Yeah, I get it. But I have confidence that you can pull it off! It’ll go great, and then you’ll actually be dating a model in Tokyo like you always said you would,” you said.

“Okay…” she said hesitantly. “Y/N?”

“Yayoi?” you said.

“Canyoucometothepracticewithme?” she said, all in one unintelligible breath. You furrowed your brow.

“Could you repeat that?” you said.

“Can you come to the practice with me?” she said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do it without you pressuring me a bit.”

“Sure, why not?” you said. “Is it in the morning or evening?”

“They have evening practices on Tuesdays. I was thinking we could go to one of those? That’s what I did last time, so it’s an established thing, and anyways I don’t think I could wake up early enough to go to a morning practice,” she said.

“Okay, good, because I was kind of scared I’d have to be up before the sun. I’d do it for you, and in a heartbeat, but I wouldn’t exactly be happy about it,” you said.

“I wouldn’t, either,” she said. “This Tuesday, then? We can have an early dinner or late snack together before heading over.”

“I won’t miss it,” you promised. “Make sure you wear something nice!”

After your Tuesday classes and errands were completed, you met Yayoi at a restaurant you both liked so that you could quickly eat before leaving for the practice. She was nervous the entire way, twirling the ends of her hair around her finger, straightening her already-perfect clothes, and chewing on her lower lip.

“Hey,” you said as the two of you entered the stadium and sat on the first row of benches. “Don’t stress out. If he’s an asshole, we’ll sic Tabito on him. I bet he could beat your crush in a fight, easily.”

“I don’t know,” Yayoi groaned. “Yukimiya’s super tall, and he looks pretty built, too. I think my baby brother might be outmatched.”

“No way,” you said loyally. “I’d bet on him over anyone.”

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye. “I wish I could have the same faith in him, but considering what a dumbass he typically is, I can’t say I can muster it up. Look, that’s Yukimiya. Still think Tabito’s got it in the bag?”

Discreetly, she pointed out a boy with wavy chestnut hair and an admittedly powerful build. He stood next to Otoya, which only threw it into further relief just how muscular and tall he was. Yayoi hadn’t been lying about that, and neither had she made up how good-looking he was; you could tell just from that first glance that he was heartbreakingly handsome.

“Well,” you said, realizing that maybe you had been a bit overconfident in Tabito’s abilities. But you were too stubborn to change your answer now, and besides, you believed in him no matter what, so you only shrugged. “Yes. Even if it looked like he’d lose for sure, I’d still pick him. There just isn’t anyone else I’d ever choose.”

“Damn,” Yayoi said. “Fine, then. If Yukimiya ends up being an asshole, we’ll see who wins.”

“Deal,” you said. “Although, hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”

“Hopefully,” she agreed.

The practice was long, dragging on past sunset, the field’s lights turning on to ward away the darkness as the moon crept higher into the sky. Yayoi, who had confessed that she hadn’t slept well the previous night, slumped against you and passed out almost immediately, and you busied yourself with a pattern of checking your phone and watching moths fly fruitlessly into the massive lamps.

Finally, the coach blew the whistle to signify the end of the practice, and as the players exited the field, walking past where you were conveniently seated, right by the joint entrance-exit, you shook Yayoi.

“There’s no way you’re in this deep of a sleep,” you hissed at her unmoving form.

“Y/N?” It was not Yayoi but someone else who said your name; namely, Tabito, who had paused in front of you and Yayoi to gaze at you questioningly. “Why are you at my practice?”

“Not now, Tabito,” you said dismissively. Noticing that Otoya and, more importantly, Yukimiya, flanked him, you doubled down on your efforts to wake Yayoi, who remained unresponsive. “You bitch. I bet you’re just pretending to sleep so you don’t have to go through with the plan.”

“Hey, L/N! It’s been a bit,” Otoya said. “I’ve been visiting the place you showed us almost daily. It’s wicked good. You’re the best for bringing us there.”

“Hi, Otoya,” you said. “Sure, anytime. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Yayoi, if you won’t get up, I’ll just do it myself.”

Without waiting for her to respond, you stood up and bowed slightly at Yukimiya, who seemed entirely bemused by your odd actions. He glanced at both Otoya and Tabito for help, but neither of them had any clue what you were doing, either, so they could offer no assistance to him on that front.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hear your name is Kenyu Yukimiya?” you said.

“Yes, that’s correct,” he said. He had a pretty manner of speech, proper and refined, each word spoken with careful control. “Who might you be?”

“Y/N L/N, but that’s unimportant,” you said. “That’s Yayoi Karasu. She’s Tabito’s barely-older sister. You should talk to her.”

“Y/N!” Yayoi screeched, shooting up to a sitting position. “Why would you phrase it like that?”

“What is going on here?” Tabito said. Otoya shrugged, clearly lost as well.

“So you were faking it the entire time! Never in my life have I met a bigger coward,” you said, clicking your tongue in disappointment.

“Yayoi Karasu?” Yukimiya said. “Oh, I know you! You were here last week, right? We talked about Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

“That’s right! You, uh, remembered that?” Yayoi said. He beamed at her.

“How could I not? The movie is one of my favorites, and none of these guys like it, so it was great to meet someone else who’s seen it so many times,” Yukimiya said.

“Y/N,” Tabito whispered, sidling over to you, the tip of his sharp nose brushing against the shell of your ear. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

“Depends,” you whispered back. “If you think this is your sister having a crush on your soccer teammate, then yeah, it is. Otherwise, no.”

“That’s gross,” Tabito said, horror twisting his features. “Yayoi and Yuki? No way. You have to be joking.”

“Why not? Because he’s younger than her? It’s only two years. That’s nothing,” you said. “You should be more supportive.”

“No,” he said, a peculiar edge to his voice. “No, I don’t — I don’t care about that part. I thought you might, but I don’t at all.”

“Huh? Why would I?” you said. “If they’re both interested in each other, and they make each other happy, that’s all that matters. We’re adults, so a few years here and there is meaningless in the grand scheme of things.”

“What about you? Would you ever do it?” he said, breathless and impatient, clenching the hem of your shirt in one fist.

“Date someone younger than me? I’m not sure. I’ve never really considered it; you’re the only one younger than me that I regularly interact with, and, well, you know. There’s a special consideration there. Why? Got a teammate you want to set me up with or something?” you said.

“Absolutely not,” he said, stepping away from you and scowling. “I’d never ever ever let one of those mediocre fucking idiots anywhere near you.”

“Just a hypothetical question, then? I suppose there’s no harm in that kind of thing every now and again. Was my response alright?” you said.

“How am I supposed to answer that?” he said tiredly. “It’s what you think, so obviously it’s fine. I should go now. I don’t want to keep Otoya waiting; he’ll get pissy and annoying if I do.”

“Oh, okay. Bye, Tabito! Let me know if you’re free sometime. I feel like I never see you, even though we’re all but neighbors. We should do something,” you said. The strange tone of the conversation had left you reeling, and you scrambled for something that would make it better, would chase away the anxiety constricting your lungs like a vice.

“I’ll let you know,” he said. It was a dull attempt at sounding excited, and for a brief, striking instant, you wanted to reach out and beg him to wait one second more. You wanted to apologize, though you knew not what you had even done. You wanted him to stay until he smiled at you again, the way he usually did, and then you wanted to — you wanted to — you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure what you would do after that, but you would do something, hold his hand or embrace him or something.

Yet instead, you did nothing, watching as he rejoined Otoya and entered the locker room without a backwards glance, leaving you standing by yourself in the bleachers, your heart hammering in your chest like a crow with clipped wings, thrashing against the bars of its steel cage in a futile attempt to escape.

“Can you believe it?” Yayoi said later. “He asked me out first! I didn’t even have to do anything!”

“Congratulations,” you said, as genuinely as you could. “I’m really happy for you, Yayoi. Fingers crossed that it all works out well. I’m sure it will; he seems like a really great guy, and you both were talking for a while, so you’re clearly compatible.”

“Thanks, I think so too!” she said before narrowing her eyes at you. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing!” you said. She was so happy that you could not bear the thought of burdening her with your problems, especially when they weren’t even problems in the first place. Yayoi was having none of it, though, frowning at you.

“You can tell me,” she said. You shook your head, so she poked you in the forehead. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”

She punctuated each utterance of the refrain with another poke, until finally you batted her hand away in exasperation “It really is nothing. I just think I did something to upset Tabito — don’t ask me what, because I don’t know — and it’s making me feel a bit out of sorts.”

“He’ll get over it. Why’re you worried? This isn’t unusual. He’s mad at me half of the time. If I felt out of sorts every time he threw a tantrum about something, I’d never feel in sorts,” she said.

“But he hardly ever gets mad at me,” you said.

“Right,” she said, her eyes glimmering. “I forgot the two of you were like that. Hm. I still think you shouldn’t worry too much. If he’s actually mad, which I honestly doubt, then he’ll get over it quickly enough. He’s not capable of staying angry at you for any length of time.”

“If you say so,” you said. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. We need to celebrate you finally saying yes to a guy that asked you out!”

Yayoi blushed but nodded. “Should we go for drinks?”

“It is a Tuesday,” you reminded her.

“Is that a no?” she said.

“It’s a yes,” you said.

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” she said.

“Just for that, you’re covering the tab,” you said. She winked at you.

“Already planning on it!”

The end of your time at university came almost as soon as the beginning had. It was bizarre, walking out of the familiar exam hall for the final time — you knew you had passed, and you already had a job lined up for you in a month’s time, so there wasn’t any cause to worry, and indeed you did not. You only felt odd and light, as if you were floating through the streets of Tokyo, ephemeral like an aluminum wrapper bouncing down the pavement in the wind.

Neither Yayoi nor Tabito could attend your graduation ceremony which was held that Friday; Yayoi had fallen deathly ill, so you had enlisted Yukimiya in keeping her at home, lest she sneak out and kill herself by trying to support you, and as for Tabito, he happened to have a final exam held at exactly the time of the ceremony, which meant he was automatically excluded from attending.

Your parents, as well as both sets of your grandparents, were in the audience, but it wasn’t the same. You couldn’t help yourself from searching for the Karasus, for Tabito in particular, but no matter how hard you searched, it didn’t matter. They weren’t there. He wasn’t there.

When the president of your college, a portly woman with pin-curled hair and red lipstick, handed you your degree, you were hesitant in taking it. Your smile plastered on, you stared towards the door as your fingers inched towards the fancy paper. Any moment now. He’d burst through the door the way you had, and he’d see you, and he’d smile and then wave — it was like a tradition at this point, wasn’t it? It had to happen. He had to come. You knew he wouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop a foolish anticipation from brewing in you as you waited.

Your hands reached the certificate. You held it in front of you as the cameras went off, finally turning away from the door and grinning wider, resolving not to let it ruin your mood. After all, you had worked so hard to achieve this. Why did it matter who was in the audience? It could be an audience of none, and you’d still be happy. You’d still be proud, for no other reason than because you had done it, because all of your hours of studying and classes and homework had finally paid off.

You ate dinner with your family, and then you were invited to go out to a nearby bar by a few of your college friends. Seeing your parents and grandparents to the train station, you rushed back to your apartment to get ready for the night, entirely ready to let loose after what felt like several years’ worth of burdens had just been knocked from your shoulders.

The bar was packed with students from your school, all of whom had had much the same idea as you and your friends. The bartenders were rushing back and forth, sliding drinks out with as much speed as was humanly possible, and before long you were sipping on something fizzy and fruity that one of your friends had handed you.

At some point, one of your classmates, a boy who you had never known particularly well but recognized for his distinctive voice, which could be heard from all corners of the city when he got to bragging about his father’s salary, announced that the rest of the night’s drinks were on him. If you were his father, you’d be furious at the offer, but as you weren’t his father, you took advantage of it with impudence, downing glass after glass of whatever the bartender gave you.

Soon enough, the music and lighting, which you had found so charming and delightful earlier, began to pound at your head. The world spun, not unpleasantly but still in a disorienting manner, and you stumbled towards the door, pulling out your phone and singing to yourself as you decided who you wanted to call.

The cool air of the night was refreshing against your face, and you leaned against the brick wall of the establishment as you squinted at the blinding light of your phone’s screen. You could barely make out the dark characters which stood out on the white background, and eventually you gave up, switching to the keypad and using muscle memory to type in the number your fingers had long ago memorized.

He didn’t pick up until the last ring, and his voice was groggy when he spoke. In the back of your mind, you felt guilty, for you recognized that he must’ve been sleeping, but for the most part you were far too elated to hear him speaking, so you could not bring yourself to be too sorry.

“Hello? Y/N?”

“Tabito,” you said, your words slurring together, dragging out at the ends and trailing into soft breaths. “Tabito, you didn’t come to my graduation.”

He sounded a lot more alert when he spoke next, but he did not change the volume of his voice from that low murmur any. “I told you I couldn’t. I had an exam, remember?”

You sniffed, blinking rapidly. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it,” he said. “You know I would’ve been there if I could’ve.”

“Can you come now?” you said, your lower lip trembling.

“Come where?” he said. There was a muffled sound that you assumed was him rolling out of his bed, and then the soft padding noise of his footsteps.

“The bar,” you said. At this point, irrational tears were welling in your eyes. You weren’t even sad, but you couldn’t stop them from rolling down your cheeks, leaving scalding trails in their wake.

“Are you out with your friends? Why do you want me there? Aren’t you celebrating?” he said.

“I don’t know,” you said, and then you were hiccuping as you cried in earnest. “I don’t know, Tabito, I just want you to be here.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed you. “I just left my apartment. Is it the bar you and Yayoi like to go to? The one by the grocery store?”

“Yes,” you said.

“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, and then we can decide what to do from there. Does that sound good?” he said.

“Mhm,” you said. “Are you going really fast? Tabito, you play soccer, right?”

“I do play soccer,” he said, sounding equal parts amused and concerned. “You come to watch my games sometimes. I like when you do that.”

“That means you must be fast,” you said. “Mega fast. Mega extra fast.”

“I’m only a little fast. Most of my teammates are faster,” he said.

“Ah,” you said. “But will you still be here super soon?”

“Yes, I’ll be there super soon,” he promised.

“Can you talk on the phone and walk at the same time?” you asked him.

“Well, I’m doing it at the moment, so yes, I’d assume so. Why do you ask?” he said.

“Isn’t that illegal?” you said.

“No, that’s for when you’re driving,” he said.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t do that, do you?”

“I take the train or walk most places, so I don’t even have the opportunity to,” he said.

“But if you had to drive, you wouldn’t, right? Right, right?” you said.

“Right,” he said. “I’m just around the corner, so I’m going to hang up. Are you outside?”

“Next to the door,” you said.

“Don’t move,” he instructed you, and then he ended the call.

Before you could begin to wail about the abandonment, he was rounding the corner, looking so haphazard that, had you any more presence of mind, you’d have made fun of him for it. His hair stuck up in every which direction, like it had when he was younger and didn’t know how to style it, and he wore nothing but a random t-shirt thrown over a pair of plaid pajama pants, his feet shoved into the black Crocs that Yayoi had bought him as a gag gift last Christmas.

“Y/N! There you are,” he said, his shoulders slumping in relief as he pulled you into his arms. “Look, I’m with you now. Are you happy?”

You giggled. The world still rotated on an unidentifiable axis, but the firmness of Tabito’s grip had a kind of stabilizing effect, holding you in place and together and in one piece.

“Hi, baby,” you said. “Yes. So happy.”

“Baby?” he repeated, and based on the way his skin warmed, he must’ve been blushing.

“Look,” you said, reaching up so that you could play with the ends of his hair. “It’s like when you were a baby. When you were just little baby Tabito. That’s when I met you, you know.”

“I see,” he said, and there was a distinct yet inexplicable despondency to the way that the corners of his eyes crinkled and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Do you want to go home now?”

“I wanna be with you,” you said.

“That’s fine,” he said, so patiently and tenderly that your head grew fuzzier and fuzzier with every word he spoke. “I’ll stay with you either way, but I think we should probably head back. How much have you had to drink?”

“Um…” you tried to recount what you had ingested, but it was all a blur. “I don’t remember.”

He rubbed the back of his hand against your cheek. “Let’s go home, then. You definitely shouldn’t have any more. Will you be alright if I go inside and tell your friends I’m taking you back?”

“Do you have to?” you said, catching his sleeve and holding it in between your hands. “Why can’t we just leave?”

“They’ll worry about you,” he said, prying your fingers off with the utmost of delicacy. “If you leave without letting them know, they might think something bad happened. I’ll explain what’s going on so they aren’t scared, and then we can head out. Does that make sense?”

“Hmm,” you said. “Only because you say so.”

He chuckled slightly. “That’s good. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You counted the seconds that he was gone, and before you reached the seventy-fifth, he was already back, his face flushed from the heat of the bar, his hair even wilder than earlier from the sweat and the humidity, a dusty footprint on his right shoe where someone must’ve accidentally stepped on him.

“I was expecting to have to convince them to let you go with me, but they were all alright with it,” he said, carefully taking your hand and leading you in the direction of the apartment.

“Sure they were,” you said, tripping over a loose stone, only avoiding face-planting because Tabito caught you with the reflexes of an athlete. “It’s because I talk about you so much.”

“Do you?” he said.

“Totally,” you said with a yawn. “All of my friends know about you and your soccer and your studies. I’m just soooo proud of you, so I mention it whenever you do something cool. Isn’t that what a normal elder-sister-figure would do?”

“Yayoi doesn’t,” he said.

“Yayoi is Yayoi,” you said.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “And it doesn’t change what I said.”

“Can you carry me?” you said when you almost stumbled and fell for the second time. “Tabito, it’s hard to walk, so can I please ride on your back the rest of the way?”

He exhaled but crouched, beckoning you forward. “If you really want.”

“Yay!” you said, leaping onto his broad back and clinging to his neck, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he supported you while continuing to walk. “You’re so big now. When did that happen? Have you always been like this? It’s almost as if you’re nearer to being a man than a child, but that’s impossible. You’re still young, aren’t you?”

“It’s not impossible; in fact, it’s the truth,” he said. “If only you ever looked at me and saw me for who I am, you’d have realized I’ve been like this for quite a while now.”

“What do you mean?” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes, allowing the rhythm of his walk to lull you into a trance.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Forget about it. We’re almost there. Are your keys in your purse?”

“Yup,” you said. “D’you want them now?”

“I’ll get them from you once we’re at the door,” he said. “Good thing you don’t have a roommate; I’m sure they’d be pissed off by you coming back so late, drunk out of your mind and with a random guy in tow.”

“You’re not a random guy,” you said, dropping the key to the complex in his waiting hand once the two of you reached the glass gate to the building. “If I had a roommate, they’d definitely know who you are. How could they not? You’re my Tabito.”

“Since when I have been your Tabito?” he said, unlocking the door and flicking your chin up playfully before returning his hand to holding up your leg. “I don’t think that I am.”

“Since always,” you said.

“Really? And does that mean you’re my Y/N?” he said, bending down so you could press the elevator button to take you to your floor.

“Yes,” you said. “For six years I did not know it, but ever since then I have been yours.”

“Well,” he said. “Is that how it is?”

“It is,” you said. He switched the lights in your apartment on and deposited you on the couch, heading to your kitchen and filling up a glass with water. Handing it to you, he sat at your side, bringing it to your lips so you could drink, not taking it away until you had drained the cup.

“Feeling better?” he said. “I’ll get you some crackers to eat.”

“Much better,” you said, chewing on the crackers while laying your head on his shoulder. “My stomach isn’t so queasy, and my vision is a lot more straight.”

“You’re talking more normally, too,” he noted. “At least, you sound a bit comprehensible. Want more water?”

“No,” you said. “I’m sleepy. Can we go to sleep now?”

“Here?” he said. “How about you change into your pajamas and wash your face first?”

“I’m too tired,” you said, yawning yet again to emphasize the point, nuzzling your face against the curve of his neck, your eyelashes crushing against his throat. “You’re so comfortable.”

“Thank you,” he said, patting you atop the head. “But you’ll feel horrible tomorrow morning if you don’t get in bed properly.”

“I’ll feel horrible either way,” you said. “I can’t do anything. We were partying for so long, and now I’m exhausted.”

“That’s true, but you’ll feel worse if you sleep here instead of in your room,” he said. “How about I help you?”

“You’ll help me?” you said.

“If you change your clothes, I’ll do everything else,” he promised, gently pushing you off of him and then standing so he could help you to your feet. “I just don’t want you to feel sick tomorrow, be all cramped up from sleeping in a weird spot, and get a break out on top of that.”

“I guess that’s fine,” you said with a dramatic exhale. “You’re so…so…what’s the word? You’re so persistent. Stubborn. Something like that.”

“People say that a lot,” he said.

“They call you an asshole a lot, too,” you said. “All of the time.”

“Yes,” he said, walking with you to your room, where your pajamas were folded at the foot of your bed. “I think I am one, at least a little bit. It’s impossible for me to be otherwise around mediocre people. I try to fix it, but it’s hard, you know.”

“I don’t think you are,” you said. “You’re the nicest person in the whole entire world. If you were an asshole, you wouldn’t treat me the way you do, but you do, which means you aren’t.”

“That’s because you’re special,” he said after a pause. “To me. And also in general.”

“What do you mean by that?” you said, but when you turned around, he had shut the door between you two, allowing you to change your clothes and him to avoid the question.

Only the thought of disappointing Tabito was enough to convince you to not collapse onto your inviting bed. Instead, you trudged towards the door, opening it and pouting at him, trying to beg with your eyes for him to allow you to go to sleep.

“Good job,” he said, ignoring your silent pleas and dragging you to the bathroom, where he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub. “Is this your makeup remover?”

He showed you the little tub of cold cream you kept next to your sink. You mumbled something generally affirmative, and he unscrewed it, kneeling beside you and massaging it onto your face, paying extra attention to your eyes, which was where most of your makeup was concentrated.

“Who taught you about all of this stuff?” you said, your eyes screwed shut as he used a clean, wet washcloth to remove the cleanser from your skin. “Do you have a secret girlfriend?”

“No girlfriends, secret or otherwise,” he said. “It’s all stuff Yayoi made me learn on pain of death. She refused to have a brother who didn’t know anything about proper skincare. It’s not like I do it all that much, but I’m aware of it thanks to her.”

“You’ve really never had a girlfriend?” you said. You supposed you had always been aware of that, but you had never really comprehended what it meant. How could it be that Tabito Karasu of all people had never even gone on a date?

“Nope,” he said. “Can I use this moisturizer on you? I’m sure you have a better routine normally, but it’ll probably be for the best if we skip steps for the sake of getting this done quickly.”

You cracked your eyes open and then nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Why?”

“Why what?” he said. The lotion was cold at first, but the circular motions of his fingers on your cheeks warmed it quickly enough that you didn’t even have time to be shocked by the temperature. It was soothing, a tingly sensation washing over you as he worked.

“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend?” you said, his fingertips gliding over your forehead.

“I guess I haven’t found the right person yet,” he said. “Or, no, that’s not it. I have found them. I found them a long time ago, but I don’t — I don’t think they wanted to be found. Not by me.”

“That can’t be true,” you said. “What kind of person wouldn’t want you? Who are you talking about, anyways?”

His thumb swiped over your lips, once and then twice, before coming to rest where they slightly parted. You waited, thinking he might move it, but he did not.

“What will it take?” he said. “For you to stop thinking of me as a child. What more can I do? Name it and I will. If it means you’ll stop thinking of me as your little brother, then I’ll do anything.”

“How else would I think of you?” you said. “You are like my—”

“Please,” he said, and it had been so very many years since you had heard him so distraught that you quieted immediately. “Please stop it. I don’t think of you like that, I don’t love you like that, so please stop it.”

Before you could respond, his mouth replaced his thumb against your own, and he was kissing you, cradling your head in his hands, his ardor winning out over his inexperience as he tried to impress upon you just how much he had wanted you, and for how long.

Unfathomably and without even realizing, you found yourself kissing him back, enjoying every demand he made of you and responding to them each in kind. Your hands wound around his neck and tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on the silky, feathery strands, drawing a small whimper out of him as he wedged himself impossibly closer to you. Yet the sound broke you out of whatever daze you had fallen into, so, with a gasp, you ripped yourself away from him, resting your forehead at the dip of his collarbone as you tried to catch your breath.

“No,” you said. “No, I shouldn’t have — we shouldn’t have — you have to go.”

“Why not?” he said. “You said you shouldn’t have, but you did. Why do you wish you hadn’t?”

“You have to leave,” you said, and then you were crying again, soaking his shirt with your tears as the weight of what you had done began to smother you.

“Let go of me first,” he said. Your fingers, still in his hair, flexed but did not loosen. “Y/N. If you really want me to go, I’ll go, but you have to — you have to let go of me first. You have to be the one to do it.”

You wept harder, because you did not know how to let go of him, because you could not fathom doing it, but neither did you want him to let you go first. It was shameful and wrong, but the truth was that, more than anything, you wished for him to stay, to blot away your tears and lay you in your bed so you could sleep the entire night away.

Somehow, you found the strength in you to yank yourself away from him, all in one go. The moment they left him, it was as if your fingertips themselves mourned, aching to return to their rightful place, but instead of obliging, you used them to cover your eyes. Anything to avoid looking at him. Anything to avoid seeing the anguished expression that most certainly marred his features. Anything to avoid knowing that you were the one who had caused it.

You didn’t look up again until you heard the front door close, and then it was all you could do to turn off the bathroom lights and make it to your bed, crashing into the pillows and somehow managing to fall asleep.

As soon as Yayoi was feeling back to her usual self, you sent her a cryptic text essentially commanding her to meet you at your usual spot for food whenever she could. Thankfully, she recognized when you were having an actual problem versus when you just missed her, and she told you she was free that very evening, so you didn’t have to simmer in your thoughts for any longer than you already had.

“Your brother kissed me,” you said when you sat down across from her.

“Hello to you, too,” she said, closing her menu and setting it to the side. She had only even looked at it as a formality; both of you ordered the same thing every time, so opening the menu was meaningless at this point.

“Hello, Yayoi,” you said. “Tabito kissed me.”

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?” she guessed.

“Yes,” you said. “It happened the other night. I would’ve called you earlier, but you were sick, so I didn’t want to.”

“Alright. It’s a little awkward for me, considering he’s my brother and all, but I’ll set aside my biases and do my best. How do you feel right now?”

“I have no idea. How do you feel?” you said, perplexed by the lack of reaction she was displaying.

“Why would I feel anything?” she said.

“Because? Your best friend just told you that your little brother kissed her? Aren’t you mad?” you said.

“Not really,” she said. “I’m surprised it took him this long, honestly. Everyone knows he’s been in love with you for ages.”

“Everyone?” you said.

“Everyone,” she agreed. “Most of our friends, all of my family, both of your parents…he hasn’t really tried too hard to hide it. I’m pretty sure most of them think you like him, too, but I don’t want to make assumptions, which is why I’m asking you how you feel about it all.”

“How did I miss it?” you said. “I didn’t realize right up until — well, you know — that he liked me, let alone for so long.”

“Sometimes people only see what they think they see,” she said. “You thought Tabito would never like you, so that’s what you believed. But he could, and he did. Now what?”

“Now nothing!” you said. “What am I supposed to do, date him? That’s just wrong!”

“Why is it wrong?” she said. “By the way, I’m not all too invested in any particular outcome, just as long as you’re happy, so don’t think I’m trying to steer you towards any specific path. I just want you to be fully honest with yourself before you jump to making decisions about any of this.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Okay, well, first off, he’s your — you, as in my best friend — little brother.”

“Not yours, though,” she said.

“But as good as,” you said.

“I wouldn’t say so. You’ve never treated him like a sibling,” she said. “That’s not to say you don’t care about him, but it’s in a different way than a sister would.”

“He’s also younger than me,” you said.

“Yukimiya’s younger than I am, and we’re perfectly happy. Plus, you were the first to say that there weren’t any issues with that, so why’s it a problem now?” she said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“But that’s — that’s different! You met him only recently. I’ve known Tabito since we were little kids! Doesn’t that make it weird?” you said.

“People get married to their childhood friends all of the time. It’s not that unusual,” Yayoi said. “Is there anything else?”

“No, it’s just strange, that’s all!” you said. “You seriously don’t find it even a little odd?”

“I’ve had a lot longer to adjust to it than you have,” she said with a shrug, sipping on the soda she had ordered with her meal. “Let’s approach this in a different way. What about if you both were the same age, and you met later in life? In a university lecture or something. If that was the case, and he asked you out, would you say yes?”

“Absolutely,” you said without hesitation. “That was a stupid question. Who would say no? He’s smart, he’s good at pretty much everything, he’s sweet and funny and caring; additionally, from an objective standpoint, he’s incredibly attractive. I’d do everything I could to keep him if he happened to glance my way.”

“Even if he ended up being younger than you?” Yayoi said.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I — oh.”

She gave you a dull look. “Just so you know, that is not a sisterly way to view a guy.”

“I got that,” you said.

“Do you think maybe it’s possible that you’ve loved him too, almost the entire time?” she said. “Maybe even before you understood what it meant to love someone else? Back when sibling was the closest relationship to another kid that you, as an only child, could conceive of?”

“I guess that that — that’s definitely a possibility,” you said.

“It could be,” she said. “And then the notion of him being your ‘brother’ became so set in your mind that you couldn’t possibly think of him as anything else.”

“There’s a chance that that was what happened,” you said slowly. “But I don’t feel what I did for Aoyama when I look at Tabito. It’s something else entirely.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t love Tabito,” Yayoi said, flagging down the waiter so you could pay for your food. “It just means you didn’t love Aoyama, or didn’t love him as much. Considering which one is still in your life and which one you haven’t spoken to in years, it’s not unlikely.”

“What do I do now, then?” you said.

“What do you want to do?” she said as the two of you exited the restaurant. “I’ll be your friend no matter what. In the end, it’s up to you.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you said, suddenly terrified. “I won’t survive if I do. Yayoi, I don’t…”

“You can’t,” she reassured you. “If you haven’t lost him yet, then I don’t think it’s possible for you to. But you know, then, right? What’s next?”

“I do,” you said, taking out your phone and picking up speed, veering in a different direction, turning over your shoulder to shout back at her. “Thank you, Yayoi!”

“Good luck!” she shouted back as you took off at a run, holding your phone up to your ear.

“Otoya,” you said breathlessly, as soon as he picked up. “Otoya, is Tabito there?”

“Uh, Y/N? Yeah, Karasu’s cooking dinner, why?” he said. “You good?”

“I’m coming over,” you said. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere, and buzz me in when I get there. This is me calling in that favor you owe me, so do a good fucking job at it, okay?”

“Sure, I can, but why don’t you just ask him to do it directly?” he said.

“I don’t think he’ll pick up if I call him at the moment,” you said.

“Trouble in paradise? This is why I don’t do the whole ‘commitment’ gig. Too many complications,” Otoya said with a scoff. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only because — like you said — I owe you one, and because I’m going to evacuate the apartment as soon as you get here so I’m not caught in the crossfire.”

“Thank you,” you said. “That’s perfect. You rock.”

“Yup, you got it. See you.”

The elevator took too long, so after waiting for thirty seconds, you gave up and went for the stairs, taking them two at a time until you reached the floor that Tabito and Otoya lived on. Then you knocked on the door, waiting with crossed arms until it swung open and revealed Otoya, dressed in a pair of rubber-ducky boxers and nothing more.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he said when he saw it was you.

“Where are you even going to go, dressed like that?” you said, momentarily distracted by the outfit, which was all but offensive to the eye. Otoya winked at you.

“There’s plenty of people in this complex that would welcome me dressed like this,” he said, walking out with a devilish grin. “I’ll go see one of them.”

“You have fun,” you said, unable to do anything but shake your head at the rakish response.

“I definitely will. You…do your best with Karasu. He’s been kinda down, so it’d be great if you could fix him right up again, because his pasta tastes shitty when he’s in a bad mood,” he said, saluting at you before vanishing into the closing elevator.

“Who was at the door?” Tabito said. He wore the pale green apron with white polka dots you had loaned him and never asked for back, and there was a wooden spoon in his right hand, which he used to stir a pot of sauce. “Hello? Otoya? Was it one of your exes again or something? Dude, you’ve gotta stop giving them our address, this is the third time this month that some girl has come to harass you.”

You were still for a moment, standing in the doorway, watching the muscles of his back tighten and then relax as he finished mixing the sauce, setting the spoon down on its stand and putting the lid back on the pot.

“Damn, silent treatment? Was it that bad? It’s your own fault, you dumbass,” he said. “It’s not like I tell you to bring them over. You do that all on your own, and these are the consequences you face as a result. Don’t blame me for it.”

What would you even tell him? He turned the stove to simmer, and you opened your mouth before closing it. You had no idea what to say. You had no idea what was even going on in your mind — you had left Yayoi with such an urgency that you hadn’t had the time to organize your thoughts as you would’ve liked to before such an important moment.

He turned around while untying his apron, his mouth curved into a sneer as he prepared to taunt who he must’ve thought was Otoya messing with him. Yet when he realized it was you, his face fell, as if just by standing there you had reprimanded him harshly.

“Y/N,” he said. You wondered how he could do it, how he could bear to still say your name with the same affection as always. Why hadn’t he left you? Why hadn’t he given up a long time ago? What had you ever done to be worthy of this kind of loyalty? What had you ever done to deserve a person like him?

A lump swelled in your throat, and the harder you tried to swallow it down, the more your eyesight prickled and blurred, until you could hardly see anything at all. For a second you were frozen, and then vaguely you were aware of him taking a step towards you and your inhibitions were lost entirely.

Crossing the expanse of the small kitchen and casting yourself into his embrace, you clung to his neck, crying in earnest when he held onto you as if by instinct, because the way he clutched your waist felt like coming home. He felt like coming home. He felt like butterflies in the spring and leaves in the fall and ice cream in the summer and storms in the winter and every other little thing from your life which you could only ever associate with him.

“I love you,” you said. “I’m sorry, I love you, I love you so much I didn’t even realize it but I do now, I do, and I can finally see that I love you more than anything or anyone, Tabito, so please still love me back, please—”

“Shh,” he murmured, one of his hands moving up and down your back. “Don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry. Y/N, Y/N, don’t cry, I hate it when you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I was such a fool. I didn’t comprehend it, any of it, because I’ve loved you since before I understood what the word love meant.”

He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, over and over until your tears abated, and only then did he speak.

“I’ve loved you for longer,” he said. “I loved you before I even knew you.”

“And do you still?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “I couldn’t stop so quickly.”

“Don’t ever stop,” you said. “But if you do, if you must, then keep it to yourself. I want to at least imagine that you’ll keep loving me for — for a long time.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t have to imagine that. I’ll love you forever if you want it.”

“I do,” you said. “I do want it.”

His lips ghosted along your temple as he smiled. Then, right before they fit against your own, he murmured: “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

Though you had neither reason nor proof, you found that, wholeheartedly and fully, with all that you were, you believed him.

[pyro-les]

Regina George X Reader

Warnings: none

"You, yeah you, come over here" Regina called from across the hall. Cady looking around unsure before slowly walking towards her. "Why don't I know you?".

"I'm new, I just moved here from Kenya" cady responds happily.

"Shut up, shut up" Regina replies

"I didn't say anything" Cady says with a confused smile causing Regina to giggle before slowly looking off somewhere behind Cady. "You're really pretty"

Surprised Cady happily responds "thanks".

"So you agree, you think you're really pretty?" Regina says turning her attention back towards Regina.

Gretchen joins in saying "You're an international student,that is so fetch!".

"What is fetch?" Regina says slowly turning to gretchen with a slightly judgemental look on her face.

Gretchen hurriedly justifies "it's like slang from an old movie. Juno I think".

Karen joins the conversation saying "Have you ever touched a tiger?".

"No,those aren't indigenous to Kenya" cady replies seemingly happy to be talking about Kenya.

"Cause that's one of my life goals. To not touch a tiger" Karen slowly responds.

"Hey new girl!" Jason cuts In "wanna see a trick? I can guess any girls bra size, just jump one time".

They all turn to him with varies looks of surprise and disgust except for Karen who happily says "ooo do me do me!" While Gretchen calls out "ew Jason!".

Before he can respond Regina cuts in harshly "Oh my god Jason, you do not come to my party with gretchen then skeeze on the new girl right in front of me. Do you wanna have sex with him?"

"Oh, no thank you." Cady says after a small moment, taken aback by Regina's blunt response.

Regina gives her a small smile before turning back to Jason with a harsher gaze "Then it's settled, no body thinks you're funny and that thing you do where you lower your voice is making people really sad." She then turns out to the rest of the hall which had seemingly been watching the whole interaction. "Excuse me anyone who wants Jason Weems to go back to his normal voice raise your hand"

Suddenly everyone in the hall puts up their hand, some nonchalant and some excited to be included in something related to the infamous plastics.

"Bitch"

"Wow, you're really going to get noticed around here. We should help you" Regina says with a small smile. "Can you give us some privacy for a second?" she asks.

Cady turns around towards Janis and Damien who are mouthing to her "we have your food" her attention is drawn back to the plastics as she hears some of their whispers.

"Shes nice, I'm sure she wouldn't tell anyone"

"People won't question it as much"

"Just ask her"

Cady doesn't know what they mean but she doesn't want to intrude so she returns her attention back up to the rest of the room. She sees a girl quickly looking up in her direction before returning to her phone typing something. Cady then hears Regina say "Okay so we don't normally do this but,you're invited to sit with us for the rest of the week".

"Oh no I'm fine,it's ok" she starts to say, wanting to go back to Janis and Damien.

"On Wednesdays we wear pink!" Karen happily says leaving no room for her to disagree.

~~~~

"Yeah he's almost too gay to function" Cady says giggling slightly before realising saying that might not have been the best idea. Before she can take it back Gretchen says "sounds like someone else we know". Karen laughs as Regina giggles with a light blush on her face.

After a short while Cady asks "do you write about everyone in here?".

"Not everyone. Just people who get on our nerves, it's a good way to get out feelings without anyone being hurt" Regina explains.

"And we would never write about friends in it! Because friends are completely deserving of our respect and confidentiality. I mean you would never tell anyone anything we told you, would you?" Gretchen adds on.

Cady nods "of course, you can tell me anything!".

"Good because some secrets are secrets for a reason, otherwise someone could get hurt." Regina states a sudden seriousness to her tone.

After looking up confused for awhile Karen suddenly turns to Gretchen and says "we have secrets?".

Shaking her head Gretchen reasons "of course! You know the fact that Regina-"

"It doesn't matter she'll find out soon enough anyway. For now why don't you give Cady the shoes." Regina cuts her off, turning the conversation into something else.

"The shoes? Oh yeah! Come on Cady." Gretchen says before leading Cady Into the closet.

Karen and Regina start to talk for awhile until the doorbell rings and Regina excitedly runs to get it.

"Hi baby" Regina says as she pulls Y/N Immediately into a hug who mumbles a small "I missed you" Into Regina's chest.

"I missed you too" she responds as she pulls back placing a small kiss on the top of Y/N's head before grabbing her hand and leading her upstairs to see the others.

"Y/N hi!" Karen exclaims seemingly shocked to see her as the couple enter Regina's room.

"Hiya" Y/N responds as she sits at the top of the bed right next to Regina. "Where's Gretchen?" She asks realising the girl was no where to be seen and neither was the new girl.

"I'm here! I was just giving Cady some shoes and having a bit of a chat with her" Gretchen responds as she walks out of the closet with Cady trailing slightly behind her looking a bit awkward.

"Oh I didn't know you had another friend. Im Cady, nice to meet you." Cady said thinking back to Damien and Janis' run down of the plastics and not remembering them saying anything else about a fourth plastic.

"I've heard quite a bit about you, I'm Y/N" the girl says with a smile.

"My girlfriend" Regina adds on as she puts a possessive arm around Y/Ns shoulders who happily leans into her touch.

Cady looks a but shocked before smiling and saying "Oh I didn't know you were dating anyone. Why weren't you at lunch?"

"People in northshore aren't exactly the most accepting with, well anything really. Especially when it comes to the most beautiful popular girl in school dating a loner theatre kid." Y/N says a bit sadly.

"But that's ridiculous, what does that matter to other people" Cady says quite annoyed. She doesn't understand why people can't just mind their own business.

"Everything here is perfectly set out, there's a clear hierarchy and rules on who can do what and if you make one wrong move you immediately fall down. You're lucky Cady, you're new so no one knows who you are, you could be anything, you could be at the top or bottom of the hierarchy. Luckily you have us to help you get to the top"

After a moment of contemplation Cady decides to ask "why did you decide to let me sit with you? I mean I don't exactly scream popular, I didn't even know schools had this kind of hierarchy.".

"Well exactly that, you seemed lost and we wanted to help. Besides it'll help with our plan" Regina responds like it's nothing.

"You're plan?" Cady asks confused.

"To help Y/N sit with us of course!" Gretchen answers "if we were to bring a loser into our group now everyone would question it but if we wait awhile then it won't be too weird because we already would've invited you.".

"Do not call my girlfriend a loser!" Regina yells.

Pulling Regina back towards her Y/N speaks softly to her "Hey hey baby she didn't mean it like that. She's just trying to say that that's what people think and I'm fine with that." Regina grumbles a small sorry to Gretchen before leaning back into the embrace of her girlfriend.

Watching the sweet interactions between the two Cady couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous of the two,she wished Aaron would look at her the way Regina looked at Y/N. But it also made her question, what would she tell Janis? She had promised her new friend she would tell her everything the plastics had said but she had also sworn confidentiality to Regina, what would she do?

~~~~~

A/N:

I finally finished writing the first part of this fic, it's nor the longest chapter but there should be more:)

I hope everyone enjoyed it. This is my first time writing a fanfic so if it's not the best I apologise.

Thank you so much for reading!💜

[steddieas-shegoes]

98. “if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs” 👀

READICUS. Okay. Alright. I've caught the context disease from you though.

Rated M | tags: language, flirting, dirty talk, so much discussion about sex they might as well be having it, getting together, FWB to lovers

😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉

It was just grocery shopping.

They were in a grocery store.

Eddie should not be getting hard watching Steve pick out the ripest bananas.

Like, genuinely, even he knew this was as ridiculous as it could get.

It's just that they'd been casually fucking for the last few weeks, letting off steam, just dudes helping dudes through their synchronous dry spells, and watching Steve pay so much attention to a fucking banana was a lot for Eddie to wrap his mind around.

Casually fucking might not even be the right term.

It was more like...fucking like rabbits.

Eddie spent more time at Steve's house than he spent at his own, and most of that time was spent either naked or trying to be.

He spent the night last night, and only agreed to come shopping with Steve after a very convincing blowjob against the kitchen counter.

It was working for them.

Except for how much Eddie loved Steve. Not like a friend, or a brother, or the way he loved his Hellfire minions. He loved Steve in the "would marry you in Vegas and have tons of babies with you if you wanted" way.

So embarrassing.

Especially taking into consideration that there was no way Steve saw their arrangement as anything more than convenient.

He watched as Steve finally settled on the perfect bunch of bananas and shuffled back to the cart that Eddie was leaning on.

Eddie leaned forward as Steve leaned over the cart, his lips brushing against his ear.

"If we weren't in public right now, I'd have my head between your legs," he whispered.

Which was bold of him considering the grocery store was packed with weekend shoppers.

Steve tensed, his body freezing completely as Eddie backed away, smiling and waving at an old lady glaring at him.

"What the fuck, Eds."

Steve's cheeks were fire engine red, his hands gripping the edge of the cart like it was the only thing holding him up.

"What? I just thought you should know how bad I want you," Eddie shrugged.

They flirted with each other all the time, that's what led to their situation in the first place: the flirting went a bit too far and Steve ended up on his lap, rocking his hips back and forth until he came in his jeans.

No big deal.

Just another day.

But never in public, barely even around someone they trusted.

"Here? Now?" Steve squeaked out, eyes widening comically.

"Why not? You're hot," Eddie's hand grazed his lower back, just enough of a touch to tease, not enough to really be noticed by anyone else.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Steve hissed. "You want people to see?"

"No, 'course not," Eddie smirked. "I just want you to feel."

Watching Steve struggle to find words, struggle to flirt, was possibly the biggest win in Eddie's book. If he could pat himself on the back for it, he would.

"We're in public."

"Stevie, I hate to say it, but being in public doesn't really stop me from wanting to get on my knees and suck your dick."

Steve's face got impossibly darker, only spurring Eddie on more.

"If I wasn't so worried about being walked in on, I'd drag you to the bathroom right now. Maybe fuck you in a stall. You'd probably like that, huh? You liked when I fucked you against the shower wall the other day," Eddie let his fingers trace along Steve's arm, subtle, easy to pull away if someone got too close to them.

"Eddie-"

"Or maybe you'd wanna fuck me. I know how much you like throwing me around and showing off sometimes. Think that would work for you?"

Eddie watched as Steve shivered, biting his lip and doing his best to hold back a whine.

"But we won't do that, right? Because only I get to see you like that. The way you fuck me, the way I fuck you, that's just for us, isn't it?"

Steve nodded.

Eddie looked around, confirmed no one was close enough to see, and settled a hand on the front of Steve's jeans.

"This is just for me."

"Yeah, just for you," Steve choked out, his hand grasping at Eddie's wrist to either pull it away or hold it in place. "Eds-"

"I know, Stevie. But we gotta shop. That's what you said when you were on your knees in the kitchen this morning."

"I can shop later," Steve gasped as Eddie's hand squeezed once before pulling away.

They were in public and there was only so much Eddie was willing to try to get away with, but Steve's reaction was everything.

He looked away, focusing on the apples in front of him as if he cared at all about apples when Steve Harrington was hard right next to him.

He froze.

He thought about everything he'd just said, how possessive he'd sounded, how he'd never quite crossed that line before.

How into it Steve was.

He looked back at Steve, who was still staring at him, face almost back to a normal shade, but lips bitten red and eyes glassy.

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Do you want that to be just for me?" Eddie should not be having this discussion in the grocery store.

"Do I what?"

"Do you want to be mine? Like, more than just...fucking?" Eddie should not be having this discussion in the grocery store.

"Is that...an option?" Steve was letting him have this discussion in the grocery store.

"If you want it to be."

Every once in a while, Eddie saw this look in Steve's eye, only ever when he was looking at Eddie doing something stupid or funny or when he was messing around with the kids.

He never let himself think that it was anything more than just Steve getting distracted while looking at him.

He could see it now, though, and he couldn't ignore what that look actually was.

"I want it. I want you."

Eddie was fucked. In more ways than one, it seemed.

"You do?"

"Why is that so hard to believe? You've practically been living with me for weeks, dude."

Eddie's lips curled down, disgusted.

"Don't call me dude, oh my God."

Steve laughed.

"I'll make it up to you when we get home," he winked, turning around and pretending that he didn't just make Eddie's brain short circuit.

"I- what-" Eddie sputtered.

"What? Can't handle my mouth? You handle it fine earlier."

God, Eddie loved this man.

"Stevie, how fast can you finish shopping?" Eddie started pushing the cart away, not even sure if he was going in the right direction.

"If you stop distracting me, ten minutes."

"I'll be in the car, then."

[bethanydelleman]

Bingley was at fault too.....

Bingley's "modesty" is mostly just the result of Darcy's bad influence on him . Darcy said it himself; Bingley kept relying on him so much because it made life for him easier, he knows that he's impulsive and instead of dealing with his flaws, he just relies on Darcy to check him. He knew Jane loved him and the only effect that Jane acting like a lady should act is simply him not knowing how much she liked him, he knew love was there. And because Darcy thought she did not , he decided that she does not love him after all.

Both Darcy and Bingley are irresponsible; Darcy knew Bingley falls out of love all the time and yet he did not think that Jane might form a serious attachment because of his advances. He only cares about Bingley because it's HIS friend not out of a desire to help others.

Bingley hits on Jane immediately and courts her in front of everyone ; then left her after knowing everyone was expecting marriage ; if he wanted to leave, at least he shouldn't make it seem like he was running away from her, this might affect her reputation . I know he had planned to return but Darcy convinced not to; but he should at least claim an excuse that had nothing to do with Jane so he would not embarass her.

I disagree with most of what you are saying here. I don't think Bingley could have possibly been that confident or known that Jane loved him.

Elizabeth admits that Jane is hard to read and no one would have been entirely sure of her love:

He declared himself to have been totally unsuspicious of her sister’s attachment; and she could not help remembering what Charlotte’s opinion had always been. Neither could she deny the justice of his description of Jane. She felt that Jane’s feelings, though fervent, were little displayed, and that there was a constant complacency in her air and manner, not often united with great sensibility.

And also, Jane & Bingley don't spend a ton of time together in the two months that Bingley is at Netherfield. This is not modern dating:

“Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But though Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore make the most of every half hour in which she can command his attention. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling in love as much as she chooses.”

I think you are greatly overestimating how well Bingley would understand Jane's heart. He can't ask if she likes him either, it's all about subtle encouragement. We don't know what Darcy and his sisters said to him, but I can see how someone would be persuaded that Jane didn't actually love him. I think modesty is one of Bingley's strengths, not a fault. And, he's also not as persuadable as people sometimes say, we see him stand up to both his sisters and Darcy.

Mrs. Bennet said that Jane was ill-used, but she doesn't suffer any reputation damage. Mrs. Gardiner basically says, "These things happen" and moves on. We have no evidence at all that it hurt Jane in any way except emotionally. Also, Bingley & Jane don't act like Marianne & Willoughby or Wentworth & Louisa, we do not hear that everyone who saw them expected an engagement. It did not go that far. It was a fervent hope, not an honour-bound expectation. It was also a lot of Mrs. Bennet telling everyone that it would happen.

Darcy was wrong, but after the Bennets' display of vulgarity at the ball, he thought he was doing the right thing for his friend. Was he biased? Yes, the narrator tells us so, but that doesn't mean he was irresponsible. If Bingley hadn't been truly in love, he would have been doing the right thing.

That said, both Bingley and Darcy do have flaws, but Bingley is young and being impulsive when you're 23 and filthy rich isn't that bad. Darcy protecting his friend isn't a flaw, though his reasoning wasn't without bias. And I'm sure he does often have a good influence on Bingley.

[weirdmarioenemies]

If you're even vaguely familiar with Kirby, there is no doubt in anyone's mind that one of the most iconic abilities is Parasol. It's a unique ability, it gets a ton of merch, and it's cute, to boot!

But when you think about it, there's not a whole lot of enemies for Parasol, is there? There's a lot of enemies that hold Parasols, there's the Parasol itself, which may or may not be sentient, but Parasol doesn't bring a wide variety of enemies to mind like, say, Fire or Spark might.

Believe it or not, there actually are a few enemies that give Parasol that neither HOLD a Parasol nor ARE "just" the Parasol...but they're wholly exclusive to a few games, and have not had a proper reappearance in the games since the SNES era. So, let me introduce you to all of them! Maybe there will even be some you like, or wish would come back!

But first, an honorary mention...

Name: Parasol (Kirby's Dream Land)

Debut: Kirby's Dream Land

You know it, you love it, it's...Parasol?!

That's right! Before it became the ability we all know and love, Parasol actually debuted in the same game Kirby did, which you might note did NOT have copy abilities! Like Waddle Doo and Sir Kibble, this is a classic example of an enemy that had an ability based around it, rather than vice versa.

I want to talk about specifically its iteration in this game, which is a bit different compared to future entries. First off and most noticeably, its appearance is wholly different! The hood is smaller and shaded but with no discernable pattern, the handle is thinner and the hook itself looks more rounded! Secondly, all Waddle Doos and Dees will let go of their parasol once they land, with none spawning while holding them or keeping them when they land anyway.

And another thing: you can't even dang inhale them when they're being held! The Waddler in question will be swallowed, but the Parasol will drift away or, in the Extra Game, even hone in on you! I told you they were debatably sentient! It actually does that in a few future games like Kirby's Adventure, but not nearly as commonly as it did in the original Extra Game. So strange!

OKAY OKAY time for what the post promised you now I promise. Hold my hand (and your Parasol) as I take you through The Parasol Enemies That Time Forgot:

Name: Floaty the Drifter

Debut: Kirby's Dream Land 2

"Floaty the Drifter", not to be confused with Floaty the Cell Core, is such a wonderful name. "Floaty" would already be a sillily obvious name on its own, on par with names like Flamer and Chilly and Cappy, but adding "the Drifter" makes it even moreso. Is that its species? Its title? Is Floaty an individual? Probably not, we see multiple of them in the same level and often, and this is not like Vividria where it's canonically an individual that just so happens to be fought in pairs for gameplay, but it's funny to consider. Imagine if they followed through with other enemies, like "Spikey the Poker", "Burnis the Scorcher", "Elec the Trocuter"…

Floaty the Drifter actually acts as the main provider for Parasol in this game, wholly replacing the titular object itself except for when Kirby uses it. On its own, it doesn't do much floating OR drifting, instead hopping around in its own little world, kind of akin to Cappy, but it lives up to its name when a Waddle Dee holds it, in which...it will just act like a normal Parasol! Wholly and entirely. Even when dropped, it flies off rather than initiate its normal grounded behavior. I think I've heard some of them fly at you when released, but I can't think of any instances of that, and that's still a Parasol behavior anyhow.

As you can tell, Floaty the Drifter's claim to fame is in its unique design, bearing a single mischievous eye and a stark green coloration only seen in artwork. In fact, despite being a one-off mook, this would even grant it its own role in the anime!

Floaty the Drifter, or just "Drifters" as they're called here (I guess it is a species!) are bought by King Dedede in the episode "Escargoon Rules" to attack Escargoon and his mother after presumably being "I'm With Stupid"’d all day. I did not watch the anime! According to the wiki, they're about as fragile as you'd expect a swarm of umbrellas to be, as while they swarm towards and wrap around victims, they are easily KO'd by Fire and knocked away by Kirby's own Parasol ability.

You might be wondering why, exactly, Floaty the Drifter even has one eye in the first place, considering that its role is largely the same as Parasol. To answer that, we'll have to move on to the next creature to feature:

Name: Jumpershoot

Debut: Kirby's Dream Land 2

I bet you never expected an ability like Parasol to have its own, dedicated midboss, did you? And such a sophisticated one, at that! It's even one of the few Kirby characters with toes, for the freaks in the audience!

As you may have guessed, Jumpershoot and, to a lesser extent, Floaty the Drifter are both based on the kasa-obake, perhaps one of the most ubiquitous yokai! And this is despite not really ever having appeared in folktales, if ever. I was always under the assumption that the kasa-obake was a tsukumogami, an umbrella after it had lived for 100 years, but apparently even this isn't set in stone, either!

Jumpershoot first appears in Big Forest, the second world of the game, and guards Coo because...some reason! I don't think it's ever mentioned why the Animal Friends are kidnapped, they kind of just are! And as for Jumpershoot, does he work for King Dedede? Dark Matter? I don't know how employed midbosses are. Mr. Frosty is on the Halberd once.

Our favorite umbrella attacks by jumping and gently falling towards the ground, then makes a rapid, Tornado-like spin around the room that, after a bit, repels attacks! Then, rather than dropping Stars, he throws his own sandal at you that you can shoot back at him! Don't worry, it regenerates, so you don't have to feel guilty for robbing him of footwear!

I really really like Jumpershoot. And apparently, so did Shimomura, because he reappears in Kirby's Dream Land 3, acting much the same but with more detailed sprites! He's such...a cool character, you know? You wouldn't expect a Parasol midboss to be a yokai, of all things, especially one that acts so rowdy! I love him!

Sadly, as much as we'd all love to, there is no game where you can play as Jumpershoot. Tragic, but true! But...you can get a taste, a crumb of its rapid spin attack by having the Parasol ability while riding Coo, which makes Coo spin around invulnerably just as he does! And while he would later find himself joining the foray of midbosses abandoned after Kirby's Dream Land 3, Parasol Coo still appears in Kirby Star Allies, so his soul is still with us...

This would be the end of the road for Jumpershoot, in terms of games, but luckily for Jumpershootheads, he would make one final appearance in a piece of Twitter art, joining a medley of other monsters by spooking Channel PPP! He's still got it!

Sadly, this wraps up the Jumpershoot section of this post, and thusly we have no more Dream Land 2 Parasol enemies to speak of. But don't worry, we still have more parasolic beasts in the next title...

Name: Sasuke

Debut: Kirby's Dream Land 3

Although Floaty had a cute design, it's rather appropriate that the enemy that replaced the Parasol of Kirby's Dream Land would itself get replaced in Kirby's Dream Land 3, isn't it? But Sasuke is no mere living umbrella!

Sasuke's design might bring to mind Bumber for our veteran readers, and its behavior is much the same! It drifts down slowly and steadily, and starts walking back and forth on whatever block it lands on, just like Parasol Waddle Dee, but its hat never detaches, so it will never not give Parasol! Personally speaking, though, I think Bumber is MUCH more cute and memorable...sorry, Sasuke! At least you will always have Naruto to confide in.

Sasuke also made an appearance in the anime, where he's built a lot more like Lololo & Lalala. Here, he draws a gun at King Dedede and Escargoon, an

Name: Klinko

Debut: Kirby's Dream Land 3

The oddest Parasol appearance in both looks and functionality, and our final Parasol giver, is Klinko! It looks like it would give Cleaning if anything, with its hat reminiscent of a besom! It doesn't even drift down slowly like every other Parasol enemy does at some point–in fact, while it hops around, it doesn't share any traits with the Parasol ability at all, and is the only Parasol enemy like that! So, why does it give Parasol, then?!

The answer is: it's not wearing an old broom, but actually a straw umbrella, because it's based on yet ANOTHER yokai! Shimomura seemed to think yokai were the future of the Parasol ability, and who wouldn't!

The amefurikozō, unlike the kasa-obake, has a bit more concrete lore, being children that appear in and sometimes cause rainfall, hence why they wear straw umbrellas. This is true of Klinko, too, as it appears in cloudy stages or stages with heavy snowfall! Its Japanese name, Kinko, might also suggest some relation to the separate yokai Yukinko, a child associated with heavy snow, which could also explain its tendency towards icy levels.

It's easy to see why such an unparasolic enemy would not be used any further, but I kind of like them more for it. They're an anomaly! Sure, this is essentially just Floaty the Drifter's hopping behavior, but the lack of any other Parasol attributes than just wearing an umbrella really make it stand out to me! And that's the beauty of these enemies—the longer Parasol goes without any new enemies, the more these guys will always stand out, and that's wonderful, I think!

What do you guys think? Is the time right for some of these guys to make a comeback? Is Parasol better with the limited enemies they use now? Or should they make new ones? Tell me! I can't do anything with your suggestions but I have nothing better to do than read them!

[josnhoes]

Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader. Part 2

[Part one]

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, stalking, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, drugging, mentioned abduction, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older

Focuses on Tim Drake

---

For the following week you'd noticed one or a few of the bat brood following you in the evenings. You weren't sure *why*, but it did make you feel a bit safer so you didn't complain. It was Gotham, any sense of safety was welcome.

The small book shop and coffee place you worked at didn't get a ton of customers. It was a hole in the wall style place, sometimes it got new customers but a majority we're regulars. There were also a few college students who used the late hours to buy a single coffee, then use the free wifi to do class work. Today's shift had you on coffee duty.

The bell chimed, signaling a customer or what you *hoped* was a customer. You looked up and were flabbergasted to see Timothy Drake, the co-ceo of Wayne enterprises. Normally you didn't pay much attention to CEOs of anything, but the Waynes were like the poster family for Gotham. One way or another you learned their faces and the names.

As he approached the counter you did your best to smile and not seem nervous. "Hello sir can I help you today?"

The look he gave you almost seemed to be taking you apart peice by peice; assessing you down to your soul. "I'll take a large coffee and as many shots of espresso as you can legally give me. For here."

You supposed today was going to be one of those™️ days. "Of course sir. Feel free to sit where ever you like. Would you like something to eat too?"

"No thanks." He seemed to soften now and once you gave the total he paid with a nice tip. Though he chose the spot closest to you to work. Probably because that was the best area for wifi signal you supposed.

You got his order out fast since it looked like he needed caffeine more then oxygen at this point. As you placed the drink down you had the urge to talk to him but decided against it.

Tim had been having a trying week. He could balance his nightlife and the company fairly well; but the addition of you had been a problem. He didn't know what it was about you that pulled him and his family in. He'd gone over your entire life that he could find multiple times now, and nothing ever changed. No secret identity, no shady acts, aside from some strange tumblr activity you were clear. Mind you all activity on tumblr was weird as he came to see. The entire batfam either made accounts just to follow you, the ones had them already followed you too.

The family adored you and he...was no exception. He tried to be, the way his family was spiraling and for one civilian was alarming. But he couldn't fight it. You were special. You *needed* them to keep you safe. You obviously couldn't be trusted to do it on your own, just today you forgot to lock your home.

While yes it made putting the cameras in your home easier, it also meant that you could have gotten robbed or worse. You'd admitted to being spacey at times online, made a joke of it but it was dangerous.

He finally took the time to sip on the coffee. It was good, better than most places he had. You clearly knew your way around the machine. Would you make him coffee in the mornings? Tell him to have a good day as you called him your favorite big brother? He needed to know.

The more he watched you, the more he worried for you. What if you got hurt? Not even in a rogue attack but in general. You obviously cooked for yourself, and cleaned. Knives and chemicals? Too dangerous for his baby sibling, and he hated knowing if something *did* happen you might be alone.

He'd speed up the family's preparations for you. You'd fight them at first so they had to prepare a special room. But you'd see how well they cared for you, how much they all loved you, and everything they could provide. Hopefully the room will be ready soon.

[ryanyflags]

A List of Gender Terms !

So I disappeared for 2 months, but I finally completed this project! :D (Though I've been making some random posts talking about it, so it's not like I was really gone, or what I was working on wasn't obvious.)

It started off as me having trouble keeping track of a couple gender terms (and also not knowing they existed before, since I've never really seen people talk about them), then I thought I should make a list, and if I was going to do that I might as well post it to help other people too. Which I started out trying to make that list on Tumblr, but I found it too limiting so I moved to google docs, which I also found too limiting (I just couldn't achieve my vision, if you will), and now I know html and css.

As usual, I kinda overdid it, but I think I should be a little proud of myself. I had 0 knowledge of html and css, and 2 months later I've made my own website. (I could have made it much quicker, but I often had to take breaks, a bit overwhelmed by all that new stuff.)

Anyways, it has a ton of terms on there.

I have sections for nonbinary, abinary, midbinary, atrinary, midtrinary, androgyne, agender, neutrois, maverique, ilyagender, aporagender, outherine, kenochoric, and xenogender.

For 7 categories (sex terms, adult, general term, child, gender quality, gender-quality-in-nature genders, and spectrum / -iagender spectrum).

And they all have sources on both Archive Today, Wayback Machine, and if still existing, the original post too. (At least to the best of my abilities, and there are a couple of exceptions that I couldn't figure out.)

I did put effort into this, but it's possible I missed something. So if I made a mistake anywhere, or if anyone has any extra information to add on, or if you just have some comments, you can tell me. My ask box is open, but comments on this post would probably be fine too.

Also, I checked on a couple of different browsers, mobile too, and read up on web accessibility and checked and all that (I tried using a screen reader, I'm not a pro at it though, so it's possible I may have missed something obvious), so I hope the website itself is useable. But if there's any bugs there, just tell me (it'll be appreciated).

I'm also thinking of making another compilation, but for flags (for all of the terms listed here), and maybe orientations too, but maybe later haha

I also don't know how to write a image id for the top picture, if anyone wants to write to one I'll add it.

-

Below the cut is a short little video scrolling through the site.

[calypsocolada]

CAPTAIN | r. zoro

synopsis: the captain of the hockey team really gets on your nerves. authors note: hi! i'm back from the dead to offer this fic! i saw a tik tok and got inspired. it was a sports au of hockey player zoro and I was obsessed and wrote this! hope you guys like :) might write a part two since I really like this pairing. also was thinking of doing a series where all the one peice characters play different kinds of sports :)

cw: sports au!, hockey player zoro, not proofread, slightly suggestive wc: 3.5k

click here for my masterlist

--------------------------------------------------------

You would venture to say you're a pretty reasonable person. You never got angry easily, or upset. You kept it together pretty well usually. 

Usually.

Today… Well, today was an exception. Actually it was always an exception when Rorona Zoro was in the rink. He was one of those rowdy hockey players that you would mostly ignore. You worked at the ice rink on weekends and most of the time you got lucky. The players would either be at away games or out partying on weekends. But not Roronoa Zoro. If you could say one nice thing about him it was that he is dedicated to his craft. You had the displeasure of being stuck talking with him and a few of his hockey buddies one day. Who knew this one day would taint the rest of the times you saw him.

His hockey friends were desperate, you’d think they’d never talked to a human woman before in their life the way they pounced on you. Asking you tons of questions about your life, if you had someone, who was your type, did you fancy anyone. By the time they were done asking you felt as though it was an interrogation. You were about to tell them you had to get back to work when suddenly Zoro spoke first.

“Leave the girl alone.” He’d walked out of the showers, his green hair damp and messy. “She clearly doesn’t like being interrogated.” He grumbles. The rest of the team sighs but they listen to the green haired man, leaving you be. You watch as they head back towards the showers, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks.” You had said, he shrugged.

“You should learn to speak up for yourself, rink girl.” He says and before you can respond he’s gone back towards the locker room.

Asshole.

After that you didn’t even spare him a glance, let alone a moment of your time. When he’d check in you’d slide the clipboard over to him not even looking up. It was a bit petty but you felt slightly vindictive towards him. Maybe not entirely towards him but also the company he keeps. His other hockey friends are atrocious to be around. They stare and ask for your number and try to eat lunch with you and just bother you relentlessly. Also despite them all claiming to have interest in you they call you rink girl because of Zoro even though your name is on a tag on the front of your shirt.

Days like today were no different. Once again two of the players were at your desk, asking about your day and pretending to care.

“Still no guy?” The blond one asks, you never learned their names since they didn’t care to learn yours. You clicked your pen, you had paperwork to do and were in a particularly bad mood. 

“Still no girl?” You snap, the blond one pouts but the brunette one snorts a laugh.

“I see why Captain likes you so much.” The blond one mutters under his breath. You barely hear it, your brows furrowing.

“What?”

“Dude… shut up.” The brunette intercepts, knocking the blond in the back of the head. The familiar ding of the front door sounded as Zoro entered the building. “Oh shit… let’s go, hurry!” The blond gasps, you watch the two players practically sprint and trip over each other to get away from your desk. You furrow your brows as Zoro clears his throat. It makes you jump.

“Jesus!” You gasp.

“No, it’s Roronoa.” He says as he watches you place a hand over your heart, the other grabbing the clipboard for him to sign. 

“Ha-ha.” You mock, sliding it to him. For the first time in a while you look at him. It’s cold out so he’s bundled up slightly, his cheeks lightly dusted pink from the cold. He’s almost… handsome? You never really noticed. You can’t look away… well until his eyes meet yours. You look away quickly as he clicks the pen and places it on the clipboard, sliding it back to you. When you reach to grab it back your fingers just barely grace his hand. He’s warm, despite just being out in the cold. You clear your throat, pulling your hand away quickly, busying yourself with your paperwork again. 

“Hey,” He says as your hand pauses and you slowly look up at him. He looks at you for a moment, as though he’s trying to read something on your face.

“What?” You ask, slightly concerned that he’s lingering at your desk more than usual.

“I saw those two idiots talking to you.” He says and you're not sure if it’s a question or a statement so you nod your head. His jaw tenses as he sighs heavily. “Are they bothering you?” He asks. You stare at him for a moment, trying to read his face to know whether or not he was messing with you. He was infinitely serious.

“No. I can take care of myself.” You say with a tad bit of venom in your voice. He nods his head, the look in his eyes unreadable.

“Good.” He says and with that walks towards the locker room without another word. You watch him go, very confused. 

A few hours pass as you walk back to your desk after lunch. The players are leaving for the day, some of them wave at you and you wave back halfheartedly. When the blond and brunette from earlier today pass they walk past you like wounded dogs, very clearly avoiding looking in your direction. Zoro isn’t with him curiously and as it gets later you see he’s the only one who hasn’t checked out and since the rink is closing soon you sigh and hop up from your chair. You walk into the locker room first, silence fills as you poke your head around the corner. Sure enough his locker is open and full of his stuff. You make your way towards the rink you know he’s in there before you even catch sight of him. You hear the sound of his hockey stick smacking against the puck sending it flying through the air, it swishes into the net with ease. A perfect shot. He hasn’t noticed you watching as he sails across the ice to retrieve the puck and set up again for another drill. He’d gotten much better in the months he practiced here. He played like a possessed man, much different from the person you watched practice months and months ago. Not that you knew anything about hockey but there was a reason this man was the captain. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Zoro calls out to you. You jump again for the second time again, blowing out a breath, holding your heart again. “Someone’s jumpy.” He mumbles as he lines up a shot, sending it sailing down the ice into the goal. You clear your throat.

“We close in six minutes.” You call out to him coldly, turning. 

“Hey,” He calls out to you. You're not sure why but you pause, turning as he skates to you, the only thing shielding him from you was a thick piece of acrylic glass that spanned the entirety of the ring. “You play?” He asks as you furrow your brows.

“Hockey?” You ask, looking up at him. Was he always this damn tall? He nods his head, reaching up and wiping sweat from his brow. You scoff, slightly amused.

“No.” You answer and his eyes travel from your own down your body then slowly, agonizingly slowly back to your eyes. You're blushing by the time he meets your eyes again.

“Think you can block me?” He asks and you stare at him incredulously, it takes you a long moment to answer. 

“W-what?” You question, he cocks his head, smirking down at you. 

“I said… Do you think you could block me?”

“I heard you.” You sigh. “And no… I don’t think I could block you.”

“Why not?” He asks, leaning against the glass.

“B-because you're like eight foot tall and hundreds of pounds.”

“Ouch… you make me sound like a monster.” He tsks, still with that grin on his lips.

“You are… you're huge.” You say and a second later your words cause you to blush and look away.

“Uh huh.” Zoro hummed, laughing slightly. You swallow, clearing your throat. “Put on some skates, Y/n, if you can’t guard me I’ll need a goalie.”

“We’re closing, in fact we're probably closed already.” You say as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Hmm… didn’t take you for the scared type.” He says, slowly skating towards the puck.

“I…” You stutter, scoffing a laugh. “Am not scared.” You finish as he shoots you a look, a challenging one. It was stupid really. Stupid that you found yourself sliding into skates and sailing right towards him in the rink. “Fuck,” You curse, not able to stop as you practically crash right into him. But it’s more like hitting a damn wall, he barely budges and grabs you before you can go down. “Sorry.” You breathe out, his hands are on your hips, stabilizing you, your hands on his shoulders trying to keep your balance. 

“You can’t even skate?”

“I just haven’t done it in a long time.” You say feeling a rush of something entirely out of your control when his hands slowly let you go. “I’m fine,” You say, testing the waters as you skate around a tad bit. He watches you like a hawk and when it looks like you're about to go down he’s there in seconds, those big hands back on your hips. 

“I think it’s safe to say I’ve won this game before we even started.” He says with a slight laugh as he slides off his jacket. You shake your head vehemently. 

“Nuh uh! I just-- need to warm up, that’s all.” You say, staring at the ground as your hands grip his forearms.

“Here,” He says, placing his jacket on your shoulders, it smells like him, like something warm and woodsy. You slide your arms through the sleeves. “Look up,” He says. A moment later your eyes find his, something sparks between you, your stomach doing a flip. “Don’t stare at your feet as you skate.” He directs as you nod your head, not trusting yourself to speak and not mess up your words. Slowly he starts skating backwards, holding you as you keep up with his pace. Slowly you fall back into your old routine, able to skate on your own. 

“See… told ya’.” You say a bit cockily, almost falling again but catching yourself. Zoro smiles softly, shaking his head. You could crash looking at the smile alone. You force yourself to look away. “So… how do we play?” You ask as Zoro grabs and tosses his stick to you, you catch it with ease. 

“We’ll play for five minutes, if you can score one goal on me you win.”

“I thought I was gonna play goalie?” You ask.

“I’d rather me get hit with pucks than you.” He says, warmth spreads through you at that, so you don’t answer him. He reaches and zips up your jacket before skating towards the goal. He turns to face you, crouching slightly, nodding his head to you. Game on, you guessed. 

You skated a few feet before hitting the puck hard. It sails and misses the goal by at least a couple feet. Zoro laughs.

“You’re trying right? That wasn’t even anywhere close.” He mocks as you skate to grab the puck.

“I don’t even know if I’m holding his damned thing right!” You call out, shaking his stick at him. 

“You’re not.” he says and you huff.

You hit the puck again and again and again. A few times you made it close to Zoro but he just batted it away with ease. You weren’t sure how much time passed before you were hitting the puck again, missing, the force of the hit making you lose your balance and slam onto the ice. You lay sprawled out on the ice as Zoro skates over quickly to your side. You took the opportunity to hit the puck where you laid and slowly it glided into the goal.

“She shoots! She scores!” You cheer from the ground as Zoro scoffs a heartily laugh, his cheeks dusted that same pink from earlier.

“That was a dirty play.” He grins, looming above you. 

“It was a play all the same right? Is that five points? I don’t know anything about hockey.” You skirk as Zoro lends you a hand, you take it.

“It’s one point.” He laughs, pulling you easily to your feet. 

“One point…” You trail off. “I slammed into the ground for one point.” You say and Zoro breathes out a laugh, nodding his head. “What do I win for beating the captain? Bragging rights?”

“You can’t utter a word of this to my team.” He says in a mock serious tone as a smirk grows on your lips. 

“You can’t tell me that, Roronoa, I’m the captain now.” You say as Zoro raises a brow, his cheeks going even more pink.

“Is that right?” He asks, his voice a rasp. You notice than how close you two are standing, you're still holding his hands, the warmth of them radiating through you. 

“That’s right.” You confirm, keeping a well placed poker face. 

“Got another round in you?” He asks as you shake your head.

“Y/N! Is that you?” Your boss called as you heard the door being pushed open. Your heart drops in your chest, the alarm showing on your face. “What’re you doing?” Your boss asks as you stutter out a sorry.

“She was helping me clean up, sir, sorry for keeping her.” Zoro calls out to your boss. Your boss buys Zoro’s words. 

“Well hurry up, I need to get home for dinner.” Your boss says, walking back out of the rink. You blow out a breath, skating towards the exit, Zoro just behind you. 

“Jesus… thanks.” You blow out, heart still in your throat. 

“No worries.” He says just behind you.

You plop down on the bench, leaning to untie your skates. Zoro sits beside you quietly, doing the same. It's a little awkward now, especially after all that oblivious flirting you were doing. This wasn’t something you couldn't see coming.

Just last week you didn’t even like looking at this guy, now you found yourself liking looking at him. A complete turn around. Not entirely unwelcomed though.

When you finally kicked off your skates, you sat up just as Zoro reached over, warm fingers on your chin and turned your face gently towards him and pressed his lips to your own. You gasped, taken off guard, eyes wide. A spark shot through you like nothing you’d ever felt before. His fingers on your chin slid until he was gently cupping your cheek, his other hand coming up and doing the same thing on the other side of your face. He kissed you gently. Slowly your eyes fluttered closed, your hand reaching up and falling short, as you knotted it in the front of his t-shirt, pulling him by it closer to you.

“I really fucking like you.” He mumbles against your lips in between kisses, you kiss him hard at his words. Ghosted over your lips causing a shiver to track down your spine. All the pent up emotions you harbored came spilling out as you somehow ended up in his lap, the moment grew intense, a groan escaping his lips that your lips muffled. His hands found purchase on your ass as he stood, taking you with him, carrying you with one hand to press your back into the acrylic glass around the rink. One of your hands slides around the back of Zoro’s neck, tangling in his hair. Zoro makes a sound you didn’t think was possible for him to make, something that had your stomach bottoming out and your fingers barely tugging at his hair, a soft sort of whimper escaping his lips. His kisses then turn hungry, almost feverish. He’s burying his lips in yours, forgetting to breathe, his hands tightening around you, completely lost in the moment. Someone clears their throat, startling you both as Zoro lets you down. Your boss stands there, hands on his hips, a look of embarrassment on his face. 

“Sir, I was helping him.” “She was helping me.” Zoro and you speak at the same time. Your boss raises his head, shaking his head as you nod your head in understanding leaving with your boss. 

You were reprimanded but ultimately he let you keep your job. Yay. It was your first infraction and he said to keep it professional which you agreed with and apologized vehemently. You probably apologized hundreds of times in a five minute conversation. Your boss asked not to talk about it again and you were completely fine with that. You gathered up your stuff and pushed out into the cold winter night. The cold hitting your warm cheeks and cooling you off. You didn’t have a moment alone to think about what had just transpired. 

“Y/n…” Zoro called out as you crossed the parking lot. He waved as you blushed. “I’m so sorry… you didn’t get fired did you?”

“No... What was that?” You asked as you got closer.

“What?”

“Why’d you kiss me? I-- I sort of thought you hated me.” You confront.

“What? I don’t-- I don’t hate you.” Zoro shakes his head. 

“You sure? I mean-- you were an asshole to me that one time… saying I needed to learn to take care of myself and that stupid fucking nickname? Rink girl? All your teammates call me that by the way.” You say, all of it sort of falling out like word vomit. Zoro raises his chin slightly, looking down at you. 

“They call you that?” He asks, his voice level as you sigh.

“Yes! They do!”

“I’ll fix that.” He promises as you stare at him. This whole night was just strange. 

“Why’d you kiss me?” You ask again. Zoro’s eyes soften.

“I told you already.” He says as you shake your head. 

“You didn’t tell me anything? We barely talked before today.”

“I said I like you. I said I really fucking like you.” He reiterated. You remember him saying that. The heat and warmth spread like a wildfire after hearing it again.

“Why?” You ask as Zoro sort of cocks his head.

“Why?” He echoes as you raise your brows, nodding your head imploring for an answer. “Because you're pretty. You’re funny and I like the way you ignored me all the time.” He admits as you laugh despite yourself.

“What? Y-you like that I ignore you?”

“I did. I like this way better.” He motions to you and him talking. You raise your head.

“Okay…” You say skeptically, you find your mind trailing back to the kiss and it brings a blush to your cheek. You clear your throat. “How long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you liked me?” Zoro looks like he’s thinking about it for a moment. 

“The first day I met you probably.” He says nonchalantly. You laugh.

“Yeah… sure.” You roll your eyes. He steps closer to you.

“I mean it. You introduced yourself and said I had green hair, not that you liked it, you just said I had it.” You remembered that, your lips part in surprise because he remembered it too.

“It’s uncommon.” You say and Zoro smiles warmly down at you. 

“Still don’t know if you like it or not.” He grins as your eyes bounce to it. 

“I like it.” You say and see a soft blush form on Zoro’s cheeks. “Why were you such an asshole to me that day?”

“I-- am sorry about that. I was more angry with my teammates for annoying you. I wanted you to know that you could speak up for yourself, that you could just tell them to shut up but-- I’m sorry.”

“And Rink girl?”

“Poor attempt at flirting…” He says. You start laughing, shaking your head.

“The poorest attempt. But… your words did make me speak up for myself more, so…” You relent. Zoro smiles softly. You can’t help it, you pull him against your lips. That smile was too much. You needed it pressed against your lips. His hands slid around your hips.

“Christ, Y/n… go home!” Your boss grumbles as you startle, Zoro’s hands stay planted on you as you shoot an apologetic look at you boss. 

“Sorry, sir.” You say as he waves you off, slipping into his car and driving away. You start laughing, your hand coming up to cover your mouth.

“You are going to get me fired.” You grumble as Zoro presses his mouth to yours again as though he couldn’t wait another damn second, walking you back until your back is pressed against his car. He lifts you with ease, setting you on the hood as the car’s alarm sets off. 

“Fucking hell!” Zoro hissed, fumbling for his keys. You dissolved into laughter.                

[cherrycokedup]

Bro what happened in the nevercord?? I am not a part of it but still curious

EDIT: please look at @thelesbomancer ‘s post/reblog, and @gothwineaunts ‘s post about this situation!

please defer to your own judgment when it comes to this, and don’t use my post as the end all be all! Those two posts have much more information on all of this! This post was made as this all unfolded and might be out of date (also turning off reblogs because i’m not an authority on this )

i'm gonna be careful not to name any names here because I don't want to start a hate train and I'm looking at all of this as neutral as possible and also please please please don't think of this like a call-out post or anything, it's not! I still think you can be a fan of rnf and support their work, this is just why I'm chosing to take a break from doing so!

Content Warning below for mentions of explicit content being sent to minors ( by a server member, not RnF, THANK GOD )

i don't have all the details but basically, someone was banned for sending heavy nsfw/pornographic images to minors, and then was unbanned later on because of two reasons

one: the children the images were sent too were banned from nevercord for varying reasons ( closest explanation I remember is about these kids doing witchhunts, whatever that means )

two: the evidence was apparently "unreliable" and heavily censored.

Also, the minors themselves didn't report this information, an adult did with screenshots, censoring the users of the kids.

The offending person claimed that they never knew the ages of the people talking to them and thought they were all adults, even though at least two victims from my knowledge have come forward and said the person did, in fact know their ages. The only age I've heard for sure was 12 years old.

My problem with the situation arised was when Red, the writer of Nevermore, posted a lengthy explanation that was pretty poorly worded. She used phrases about the situation, such as "egged on" or "cried wolf" about being sent this sexual content, saying it was the job of minors to stay safe on the internet. I was raising my eyebrow at that point, because the whole thing sounded rather victim-blamey.

Red then said that the evidence was faulty and suspicious for being heavily censored ( i don't know the full extent of the censoring ), and because of the fact it came from one person, an adult who was friends with some of the people who had been banned, implied reporting that behavior was all some sort of tatic to get one person they didn't like banned.

When a ton of people were (understandably, in my opinion) very upset by this response, including the victims, and other neutral parties, Red got very upset and started lashing out. I understand It had to be a stressful situation, having tons of people talking at you at once, but she started saying rather guilt tripping things, such as "I'm a horrible person then" "everything I do is actually for evil purposes", stuff along those lines. Admittedly, the situation was pretty upsetting to me, so once Red started saying those things I left. I might return to Nevermore one day, if there's signs of change and the like. I still deeply enjoy the comic, and the community! I don't think RnF are horrible people, I just think they worded this very poorly, and then continued to lash out when it didn't go as excepted lmao I'll grab some of the screenshots I took, and ask if my friends have any to add! If anyone else has anything to add about the situation, please do so in the notes or reblogs! I'm just saying my perspective here, and why I chose to leave! There might have been things I missed! screenshots below!

anyways, those are all the screenshots i have on haha, again for the millionth time I dont want this to become a massive big drama