#that my brain didn’t register that they’re played by the same person

[always-and-anyways]

I just really need to see Opal and Prism at the table together….

[frownyalfred]

i LOVED the new eye in the sky chap! of course, you have the soul-crushing rage-inducing angst pile on bruce's end, but i also really appreciated the duke-hal moment; he's so level-headed about the situation that you don't really build up too much stress over him, but then you brought in a different kind of heartbreak with the realization that he's been in this position enough times to know that the least provoking thing he can do is to do nothing at all.

and the FUTURESPEAKING jesus CHRIST — it’s a different type, but your time manipulation fuckery is almost equally as hard to wrap your head around as the stuff in tenet (the nolan movie), it's genuinely so impressive. (sorry, i'm just gonna run my mouth here for a minute, but the idea really caught me and now i Have to share all my thoughts just to get them out of my brain, though i hope that you'll be generous enough to weigh in as well😅) i'd imagine that there's actually relatively very few people, in-universe, who can do this so that duke hears it correctly, because you have to be able to focus your mind and put enough intent into the idea that you're about to say something that it "registers" as the imminent future—which means that you have to, at the same time, be completely repressing your knowledge that you're NOT going to actually vocalize whatever it is, because that intention would obviously counteract the first. and THEN, to make what's already quite a tough mental exercise even more impressive, bruce is: thinking of a futurespeak-response, putting enough focus/intent behind it for that future to crystallize (and again, it's a double-headed task, because of the repression required as well), and then cutting that off in order to think of and say something completely different, *all in about just the same amount of time a normal person would take to respond naturally in a conversation.* (also, slightly less mind-boggling but still quite impressive to me and i want to give him his props: duke, in that last bit at the end at least, is maintaining both his awareness in the present and the mental effort of using his powers to see the future, in order to hear the exact same voice say two different things at the same time, and is able to not only maintain the background effort needed to hear both things, but is taking in enough detail to see/hear/notice "both" bruces' tone and body language. ...i mean, maybe that's not so impressive to people without auditory processing issues lmao, but as someone who's constantly asking people to repeat themselves, or really having to focus on the sounds when somebody's speaking to me, even in one-on-one conversations, it certainly impressed me!)

anyways, yeah, this just inspired a lot of interesting trains of thought for me and i wanted to share lol. your fics are always such great reads, can't wait for your next update! Hope you're well💜

Thank you so much!!!! You absolutely nailed what I was trying to get at with Duke’s powers. I really didn’t want over explain it and have people roll their eyes, but I also didn’t want to leave readers mystified as to what he was doing.

Duke and Bruce are supremely well matched in this fic for that reason among many others — Bruce has a freaky brain and understands time/intention well enough to be able to think, speak, and re-speak that quickly.

He can compartmentalize like no one else. I am not obviously that smart, but the way I thought about it was playing competing melodies on the piano with two different hands - once you find the rhythm, the way they work off each other, you can maintain both easily. Where they gap, where they overlap, where they compete for your attention.

Duke is good at glimpsing a few seconds forward/back but definitely not for long periods. Like Bruce said, he’s going to need help to train that and avoid burning himself out! Luckily he’s just listening and not double speaking like Bruce is.

Someone on ao3 left me this in the comment section and they’re so right lol:

I feel bad for Hal, just a little, just like Duke does. He was tortured by Kal essentially, and where he does want to hurt Bruce (a lot) there are still some lines he won’t cross. I don’t know if that makes him redeemable or just not entirely beyond redemption. I think Bruce seems to know this too — teasing him with that moral code he used to hold so tightly to.

It was definitely a fun space to play around in! Writing this fic is difficult for me (agh worldbuilding) but whenever I try I’m pleasantly surprised by how much fun I have. Thank you so much for reading!!

[chimerickat]

I think I might have to skip today. (So tired last night and then tonight I have to go to bed early for a 6am wakeup tomorrow.)

As a consolation, have a preview of a fic where reader is Mokuba's English teacher.

It’s your first Sports Day in Japan, and you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by all of the activity and shouting. You do your best to cheer on all of your students, but trying to understand the Japanese spoken over the loudspeakers takes all of your focus. 

So when someone calls your name, it takes you a moment to register that they’re trying to get your attention. When you turn to see Mokuba Kaiba standing behind you, you can’t help the genuine smile that takes over your face. “Mokuba-kun!” He’s one of your best students which might be why he’s also one of the most forgiving when your Japanese turns into a garbled mess. 

He gestures to the man standing next to him. “This is my big brother!” 

You smile at the man and wish you knew enough Japanese to tease Mokuba about being taller and therefore the big brother. You don’t even know if the joke would translate the right way. “It’s nice to meet you…” You hesitate. His brother looks around your same age. You’re unsure how to refer to him so you opt to play it safe. “Seto-san. Please forgive my poor Japanese!”  You smile at him, remembering what you’ve been told. When in doubt, always use san! 

He frowns, but before he can say anything, Mokuba says, “She’s the best English teacher I’ve ever had!” Then he listens to an announcement on the loudspeakers. “My group is up!” He runs off, leaving you alone with his brother. 

You smile at his brother. Seto doesn’t return the smile. “I hope your English is better than your Japanese,” he says in perfect English. 

“Oh!” Eager to speak in a more comfortable language, you switch as well. “I should have known you’d speak English! Mokuba had to learn from somewhere.” You had assumed that Seto Kaiba would speak English given his status as CEO of an international company, but you didn’t expect him to have barely any accent at all.

He sneers. "Also, it’s Kaiba-sama to you.”

You ignore his tone knowing that you've spoken rudely even if you don't quite understand how. Surely he's just reacting to that. "I thought you used sama for the Emperor?"

"Are you an idiot?"

You stare at him, trying to figure out if he's attacking your Japanese knowledge or if you should know that he's part of the imperial family. Since you've established your poor Japanese already, you go with the second option. "So are you like a cousin or something?"

Kaiba pinches the bridge of his nose and looks down. He grumbles something that sounds like a curse. Then your brain translates it as, "Americans."

“What makes you think I’m American?” You cross your arms, doing your best to glare at him. 

He raises his eyebrow. “You’re not?” 

“None of your business!” you say. 

“American,” he states. Then he crosses his arms and turns his attention to Mokuba’s race. 

You could argue further with him but decide he’s not worth the headache. You’re already feeling too overwhelmed with everything going on over the loudspeakers. 

After the race, Mokuba runs up to the two of you, holding his first place medal. He hugs you, and while you're sure that's inappropriate in any country, you pat his back as you try to take a step back. Then he high fives his brother, making you feel even more awkward about the hug.

“Good job, Mokuba!” You smile and then extend that smile to his brother. “It’s been a pleasure, Kaiba-kun, but I need to get ready for the teacher borrowing contest.” 

You listen to the instructions, and the game seems straightforward. You get assigned an item at random and try to be the first person to bring it back. 

Then you get the signal to open your paper and realize the item is written in Japanese. Because of course it is. You shouldn’t be surprised, and now you understand the smirks directed your way when you signed up for the borrowing contest. 

You look around, trying to think of what to do next. Do you admit that you can’t read the paper? Some of your students cheer you on, and you hesitate. You feel illiterate, like a fraud only pretending to be a teacher.

Japanese is hard to read, but that feels like an excuse when you try to say it outloud. You’re a teacher! You should know how to read. (Even if it isn’t your native language. Nevermind the fact that you can read perfectly well in English!) 

So you run over to the student who hasn’t laughed at your mistakes and his big brother who thinks you’re an idiot already. 

“What did you get?” Mokuba asks.

“Um…” You hold the paper out to him. 

“Oh. A book.” Mokuba’s shoulders drop as he huffs. “I don’t have one.”

“Yes. A Book.” You catch the way Kaiba smirks at you. “Do you read?” you ask him before he can say anything. 

“I read more than you do.” 

“Does anyone have a book?” Mokuba asks. 

Students nearby pass the question along until someone holds out a textbook from their bookbag. You thank the student and carry the book back to the finish line. Mokuba saved you even if he doesn’t know it. 

[relaxxattack]

okay this is prob au/ooc bc it’s banking on jackie knowing ran wants to kill him and thinking it’s funny when he fails but here u go (if I cuts off i’ll send the rest of it. also I’m on my phone and not checking for typos sorry)

Jackie jumps up to sit on the bench, leaving Ran to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. The general is talking about something. And Ran should really be listening, but all he can think about is how much this one person is ruining his life. If he goes back to Terminus a failure what then? The delays are already had enough.

He snaps out of it when he hears his name being called. And Jackie is gesturing for him to come closer so he does. He tries to leave a respectable gap between them - most people don’t like having their personal space crowded (Ran included). But Jackie frowns, drags him closer, and then frowns again.

“What the hell! You’re still so much taller than me.”

“Maybe you should try standing up.” Ran suggests, painfully aware of the fact Jackie’s hand hasn’t left his wrist. “Although I don’t see how it’ll help your ego if you need to stand on a bench to be taller than me.”

Jackie laughs, and finally lets go of Ran’s wrist. Only to loop his arms loosely around Ran’s neck. What. “You’re lucky you’re so cute because that was really rude.”

And he doesn’t have anything to say to that so he doesn’t respond. He’s sure that at any moment, Jackie will release him and go back to talking about whatever. But Jackie seems content. And Ran is quickly growing uncomfortable by how much he feels the same.

This is an opportunity, he reminds himself suddenly. He’s close enough to his target to reach his back. And the knife hidden up his sleeve means he won’t draw suspicion when getting it into his hand. All he needs to do is lean forward slightly to rest his hands on the bench behind Jackie.

So he does. He hoped to make it a casual shifting of pose. But he’s close enough to hear Jackie’s sharp intake of breath so he pulls back. Surely Jackie suspects him. There’s no other explanation for it. He didn’t think the general would be smart enough to interpret such a subtle movement as a threat. But he supposes Jackie was an assassin as well.

But when Jackie unloops his arms from around Ran’s neck, he doesn’t shove him away. He slides on hand down to hold his shoulder, and the other up to cup his cheek.

Oh.

Slowly, giving Ran more than enough time to move away, Jackie drags him down so their faces are almost level. (It forces him to put his hands behind Jackie on the bench, but that barely registers in his mind.) Jackie stops just before their lips touch.

And Ran will never admit this to anyone - not even himself - but he’s the one that closes the distance. It’s a short kiss. That’s the excuse his jumbled mind provides him for not taking advantage of his potion and Jackie’s distraction to complete his mission. It’s a short kiss, but they only barely pull away from each other. Jackie’s eyes are still closed and there’s a soft smile on his face.

Ran desperately tries to collect his thoughts. He has never wanted to complete a mission less. Because Jackie’s touch burns in the best way possible and he doesn’t want to ever move. And that scares him more than anything.

He could go in for another kiss. Now that he knows what’s happening. He can approach it calm and collected, and he won’t be too distracted by the shock of it to complete his job. He can finally be rid of the whirlwind force that is General Jackie, who spins around him and leaves him disorientated at every moment.

He leans in again, and forces himself to focus on the cool metal of his knife in his hand. It’s an easy angle straight to his heart. If Ran was perhaps less focused on not being distracted by the kiss, he’d be able to note how poetic it is.

He kisses Jackie, and feels his knife skate off Jackie’s armour. The armour that Ran didn’t realise he was wearing due to his layers of clothing effectively concealing it. Jackie laughs a little into the kiss when it happens. And there’s no way he hasn’t been found out now. The hand on his cheek disappears, only to reappear around his wrist. Where Jackie must press some nerve or something because Ran’s hand spasms and the knife clatters to the bench.

The smile on Jackie’s face would almost be cruel if Ran thought the general was capable of such a thing. But surely smiling in the face of his failure is cruel no matter how soft it looks.

“You’re going to have to try a bit harder than that.” Jackie murmurs. And they’re still so close that Ran can practically feel the words against his lips.

He’s so sure that this is the end. That Jackie will shove him away and call for the guards so he can be jailed and executed. Or pick up the knife and kill Ran himself. And he should be running. He should be trying to make a hasty escape. Which is something he wasn’t even considering in his desperation to finally be done with this.

He hadn’t checked to see if Jackie was unarmoured and unarmed. He hadn’t planned his escape route. Jackie has disorientated him so thoroughly that he may as well be a novice at this.

If he runs now, he’ll go back to Terminus a failure. But at least he’ll be alive. And he can pass off whatever knowledge he’s gathered in his stay here to the council so they can finally finish the job.

But he’s frozen in place.

Jackie pushes him back enough to so that he can jump off the bench. Ran feels inexplicably cold now that Jackie’s no longer touching him.

“You’re lucky you’re handsome.” Jackie is grinning, as though he didn’t just thwart an assassination attempt from someone he was kissing. “Let’s go get dinner tomorrow night, yeah?”

Ran takes a step back and forces his brain to start back up again. He’s half convinced that he made the whole thing up due to Jackie’s strange reaction. But the knife is still sitting on the bench.

“Okay.” He says. Because he’s simply not sure what else to say.

“Um, I don’t really have a time preference. 6pm sound good to you?”

“Sure.”

“Or, if we hang out during the day doing investigation work or whatever else then we can just go whenever we’re hungry.” Jackie shrugs. “Doesn’t need to be a fancy event.”

“If you say so.”

“Great!” Jackie grins and makes an excited motion with his hands. “It’s a date! See you tomorrow!”

The general gives him a lazy salute, and then practically skips out of the room. Leaving Ran to stand there and try to process what just happened.

He’ll have to go back to his room and figure out what to do now that Jackie knows for sure he’s trying to kill him. He’ll have to figure out if dinner is some obscure play to trap him, or whether Jackie is really just stupid enough to let this slide.

(The best and safest solution, is for Ran to just leave. But for reasons he can’t and won’t explain, he pushes that thought away.)

THIS IS SO GOOD HELLO. ITS LIKE. FUCKED UP AND I AM SO INTERESTED. JACKIE IS DEFINITELY FUCKED UP LIKE THAT LIKE I THINK LIKE THIS SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING HED DO.

[svchengss]

hey barista! | l.dh

summary | befriending the barista from your local cafe doesn’t seem too bad

pairing | lee donghyuck x fem!reader ft. jaemin who’s a rlly cute side character in this :(

genre | fluff, angst, slight humour (?)

warnings | a kiss?? i don’t think there’s any but if i missed anything do lmk !!

word count | 3k+

s. tg | @hyuckefi [my apologies since i didn’t release a proper teaser for this 🙏🏻]

author’s note | this is my first fic exceeding 1k words so if u enjoyed reading this, please leave some feedbacks !! rb’s are also appreciated :D ALSO I SUCK AT SUMMARIES LMAO PLS IGNORE THAT

just another day of working at palm coffee, the same old routine. cleaning the countertop and tables before opening up the cafe, prepping the ingredients - more for top favourites! - and examining the machines to make sure they’re working properly. that’s some of hyuck’s daily routines as a barista. he didn’t mind them though, he loved his job. he couldn’t specify the reason why but all these tasks are genuinely interesting to him.

seeing you drop by the cafe is a normal occurrence for him. since you are a regular customer after all, the rest of the staff already know you well. heck, they’re even good friends with you. jaemin hangs out with you more than he does despite being jaemin’s childhood friend. except for him, he doesn’t really know why. he’s not really shy, considering the fact that he’s a social butterfly. he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you, the only times he did so was to take your orders when the rest of the workers were busy in the store.

upon hearing the doorbell chime which signals a new customer entering the cafe, hyuck blurted out the usual line. “hello, welcome to palm coffee! how can i help-“, looking up from the cash register only to find you in a disheveled state. “-you?” he eyes you up and down, noting how a few strands of your hair were out of place, the nude lipstick smeared on the left corner of your mouth and your outfit looks really rushed. 

“sorry, what was your name again, hyuck right?” you quickly glanced at the nametag hanging nicely on his apron. “i’m in a rush right now, can i get a,” you scanned over the menu behind him, “uh, white coffee, please?”. 

“that will be six dollars. you can use the restroom in the meantime to, you know, touch up your makeup and stuff,” he takes the bills from your hand, putting them in the machine in front of him before flashing you with that warm smile of his. you wished him a quick thanks before disappearing into the back of the place.

now that was embarrassing.

your eyes scanned over the hall to find your friend before hearing her shout your name from across. damn, why does she have to be so loud? stares were directed towards you as you walked up the stairs to your designated seat. all the chatter going on in the lecture hall became quiet as soon as your professor placed her things on the desk, which means class has started. 

after hearing a two-hour lecture and writing some notes - where suddenly song lyrics and scribbles appear - the words you’ve been waiting to hear finally echoed through the speakers. 

“class is dismissed, thank you everyone for listening,” mrs. hui’s voice later being flushed out by the buzzing voices of the students walking out the hall, determined to finish their own activities. you stuffed your ipad and papers into your light yellow jansport backpack before going out to meet vic who’s waiting for you outside. 

“i’m exhausted, what did she even teach just now?” vic sighed to her heart’s content. you can’t blame her, today’s topic was quite complicated. circuits analysis or something? you can’t really wrap your head around it, your brain being stuffed with all the information. vic kept on ranting  about the problems she faced from the moment she woke up, making you giggle at some comments she made. 

“wait for me, i’m almost done,” he folded his apron neatly before shoving it into the drawer and grabbing his bag from the counter to join jaemin, who’s waiting at the front door with the keycard. hyuck accepted jaemin’s request to help him with some shopping for his sister’s birthday party next week. obviously, the rest of the staff were also invited. 

jaemin divided the shopping list into two, allowing hyuck to find the rest of the things with ease.

“now where are the streamers…” he muttered out loud enough for himself to hear, crouching down to browse through the party decorations on the shelf. or he thought so, as you could hear him sighing clearly in dire need of the certain decoration, that you decided to help him out. 

“um, hyuck? i think the party streamers are in the aisle beside this one? you look a bit troubled there,” you chuckled lightly. the heat flushed to his cheeks, feeling dumbfounded. 

“really? uh, thank you for the help,” he gave you a small grin that could hardly be seen if you didn’t spot the corner of his lips. and with that, he’s long gone with his shopping basket.

you are fond of the atmosphere you’re in right now. the decorations left you in awe - white and pink silk hanging from the wall with silver letter balloons spelling out happy birthday stitched onto them. you can see jaemin’s sister, eun-ji, being carried out of her room with a small flowy white dress and wearing a golden bow on her head, her brunette hair being tied into ponytails. the na family really adore their youngest girl.

meanwhile, there are only a couple of adults your age attending the party -  jaemin’s co-workers, some of his other friends which you aren’t familiar with and hyuck. he looked rather chill, with an oversized beige sweater and white jeans to suit the party’s theme. you’re not quite bad as well, your hair combed nicely and kept neat with a headband, a white sundress with strawberry patterns on it fit nicely on your figure, complemented with a heart-locket necklace placed on your collarbones. before reaching jaemin’s house, you made sure to drop by a local store to get some gifts for eun-ji. she’s a very well-mannered kid which made you adore her very much.

“y/n? very glad to see you here,” hyuck said as he approached you, offering you a plate of cake which he cut.

“i could say the same to you too, mr. lee,” you let out a soft laugh. he made sure to keep a mental note over how pretty you looked today.

“y/n, hyuck! glad you two broke the ice, did you know how hurt i was seeing you two act like strangers whenever y/n came by the cafe?” jaemin enveloping you into a small hug before fake pouting. you can only laugh at the fake debate the two guys in front of you were having. after conversing with hyuck and jaemin for quite some time, you realised that he’s a cool person to talk to, where all this time, you thought he hated you for some reason. before leaving, you made sure to thank mrs. na for hosting the party and off you went home. 

following the previous encounters, hyuck felt much more comfortable around you - even hanging out with you during his shift where you would do your assignments at the cafe he’s working at. every now and then, he would also invite you to hang out with him and jaemin. however, what he didn’t realise was how he slowly pent up feelings - romantically. 

ding dong!

he pressed on the doorbell button with a box of doughnuts in his left hand. the three of you were supposed to be having a movie night, but jaemin got caught up with his groupwork which leaves the two of you alone. 

“hey hyuck! come in,” you gestured, arranging the cushions on your sofa to make it look more organized. the interior of your rented apartment is calming, the light grey walls suiting the navy blue sofa and furniture with darker undertones. the walls are also not left empty, with modern art portraits hanging from it. 

“i brought donuts, your favourite, right?” he opened the box, placing it on the coffee table while you set up the television. you wished him a quick thank you before grabbing two canned drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to him and pressing play on the remote control. you two weren’t quiet throughout the whole movie, with snarky comments on how hot the actors were or how stupid they were being were made. 

he didn’t know you were sleepy though as all of a sudden, he could feel the weight of your head on top of his shoulder. it was a rather awkward situation as he didn’t move at all so you could sleep comfortably. before long, he joined you and dozed off to wonderland. the next morning, you were more than embarrassed to find yourself cuddling up to him, with the next movie still playing on the screen.

seeing your figure outside the front door made hyuck more excited to greet you today. after making a quick order for a green tea latte, you fished out your purse from your handbag, feeling frantic if you’ve lost it outside. luckily, you were the only customer in line as the rest of them were already seated and carrying out their own businesses.

“sorry, but i think this might be yours,” you turned around to find a tall-looking guy handing out your black purse. a wave of relief washed over your soul, thanking the latter profusely.

“mind if i buy you a drink? i hate feeling like i owe someone,” you offered, which he gladly accepted. 

“i’d like a double espresso, please,” he kept his hands into his pockets. 

“and your name, sir?” hyuck looked mildly bothered.

“yukhei,” he ran his slightly blonde hair through the slender fingers. hyuck hated how cocky he looked, feeling more annoyed than ever over the scene that was played in front of him just now. he hated how yukhei looked at you. 

why should he get jealous? he’s just a mere friend to you, that’s all. you have to stop overreacting, hyuck. 

those words kept running through his mind all day.

“dude, are you okay? you looked-” jaemin opened the staff room, interrupting him from the self-talk he was having, “-distracted,” finishing up his sentence. 

“nope, i’m just fine,” he said, bringing the honey smile back onto his face. jaemin nodded before disappearing back to the front to serve the customers. 

stop being so jealous, hyuck. you’re just a friend. not more, not less. 

“jaemin, how do you know if you like someone?” that question is kind of shocking to him, especially if it’s coming from hyuck. of course, he’s had a crush before but it was during middle school. just a silly, little crush. growing up, he’s never had one - not even in high school.

“you’ve asked the right person,” jaemin managed to do his obnoxious voice, even while driving the car. he’s right, he is the matchmaker of the friend group, just how many relationships worked out because of him? eyes still focused on the road - he’s a responsible driver of course, he began to explain the feeling to hyuck, making his points loud and clear.

“first of all, you start feeling a little too happy whenever you’re around them. and no, this is not the oh-we’re-best-friends-forever type of happy, it’s the i’ll-make-you-the-happiest-person-on-earth one. not to forget, you will also experience some kind of turbulence in your heart, expect them to be jumping around a bit. or a lot, whichever suits you the best.

you also tend to feel nervous around that person. like, stuttering your words in obvious or non-obvious ways, feeling faster heartbeats than usual, you name it. oh! if you’ve ever felt jealous whenever they are around someone else, i mean, in affectionate ways, you might have one. however, my tip is for you not to act out of your mind. you don’t want to ruin whatever relationship you have currently, do you?” even when driving, he still managed to deliver his points with full precision and accuracy. 

nodding his head, hyuck took some mental notes to be thought through when he gets home. 

hyuck stared at you, whose figure is snoring soundly on his lap. he assumed you must be feeling exhausted, mid-terms just ended after all. while threading his fingers through your hair, he remembered what jaemin said to him weeks earlier.

1. being happy around them

like jaemin said, it is normal to be happy around your friends. but being with you, it kind of gave more joy for him. not to mention that he started to catch himself smiling over your texts and being reminded of you over small things - your favorite donut topping, the name of that one stray puppy you gave. 

2. feeling nervous around them

his heart would beat a lot faster whenever you get closer towards him, whether accidentally or to mess with him. 

3. getting jealous over someone else

he shouldn’t be jealous of how yukhei looked at you. but he seriously can’t help it. and the way he’s always there during your hangouts. he doesn’t care if he seems petty, yukhei just isn’t in his favour.

his deep thoughts came to a halt when you called out his name, eyes still half-closed, attempting to open them a bit more. 

“did i interrupt you or something? gosh, i’m so sorry,” you quickly stood up but he pulls your body back onto his lap, asking for you to stay.

“what are we?” that question caught you off-guard. the same one that has been at debate in the back of your mind these days. 

i don’t know hyuck, it’s complicated. 

“what do you think we are, hyuck?” you shot the question back at him, your gaze piercing through his soul.

“i don’t know. it’s just-” 

“are you sure?” a deep sigh left your lips. have you been interpreting his body languages wrong? did he only see you as a normal friend, nothing more? 

“sorry, i’m not feeling well. see you later hyuck, bye,” you tried your best to shoot the sweet smile of yours but only a faint one seemed to appear. once you stepped out of the room, he buried his face into his hands. 

god, what have i done?

“don’t feel too down, y/n. maybe there’s something more that he couldn’t bring himself to say?” vic suggested, handing you some tissue.

“i don’t know, i seriously have no idea. why can’t he just say it?” you continued to sob into her arms, she pitied you, especially in your condition right now. but she can’t do anything to help you, other than consoling and listening. 

jaemin knew something was wrong, from your rare visits to the cafe to hyuck not being himself lately. something was definitely wrong and it’s between the both of you. sure, hyuck might be saying that he’s fine again and again, but his expressions can’t lie. the sweet smile of his is long gone and his jokes are no longer heard. whatever it is, jaemin is determined to solve it. he just wants his best friends back. 

looks of dismay can be read all over hyuck’s face when the person facing him is no other than the guy himself, yukhei. still, he tried to control his composure, not making his inner feelings any more obvious.

“so what brings you here?” he took a sip of the mineral water, still making his throat rough from the tension hanging in the air. 

“look, i’m not here for any fights. i know you like y/n, everybody can see it. and honestly, you were oblivious to your own feelings,” he rubbed his hands together. the latter’s puzzled face made him continue his words.

“i’m not trying to make her like me, or whatever you’ve been assuming. sorry if i gave the wrong message but you are the one who should make a move. i can see from the way she looks at you, the feelings are mutual,” he straightened up the denim jacket outside the white shirt wrapping his figure. 

letting out a heavy sigh, hyuck’s face begins to soften up. “no, i should be the one who’s sorry. i’ve been such a prick to everyone around me lately, especially you,” he took of the cap from his head, messing up his hair. 

“no problem, bro. it’s understandable, i guess. now good luck with her, please treat her well,” the two guys exchanged a fist bump for the problem solved. jaemin leaned his back against the wall, smiling and feeling satisfied.

you called out jaemin’s name but to no avail. he invited you to his apartment but seeing that the lights are out, it’s clear enough that he hasn’t finished whatever he was doing yet. just as you were about to leave, you saw hyuck at the other side of it, both your faces mirroring the same look of confusion.

“so, uh, how have you been doing these days? it’s been a while since we talked,” he chose to break the silence. now, you two were sitting facing each other by the balcony. inhaling the breeze, you paused for a moment before responding to his question.

“i’ve been feeling, not as usual. definitely not happy but not that sad,” you pushed some of the loose hair strands hanging on your forehead behind your ears before asking about his.

“you know what, i’m just going to be direct with you. i, lee donghyuck have been holding feelings for you since i don’t know when. yeah sure, i wasn’t really sure at first about what i was going through. i guess i was just scared of how you would react,” he scratched his ears which are not feeling itchy at all, but rather an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions deep inside him. 

not wanting to waste time any longer, you placed your right hand onto his cheek, standing on the heels of your feet to bring your two lips together. the kiss was short before he pulls you back in for another, this time a more passionate one. he could feel you smile against his lips before enveloping your body into his arms.

“i’ve missed you, you know?” he whispered, his voice tender, directing right into your ears before you replied with how you missed him more. the both of you continued to whisper sweet nothings while embracing each other’s presence. 

jaemin looked at the both of you from a distance, his heart swelling with pride. 

— another pair of lovers matched, cupid jaemin signing out.

[asmallnerd]

Autistic Shoto Todoroki

The analysis

First off, I would like to say that this is purely a passion project. I am not a professional, I am an autistic teenager and I’m just very interested in this character because I heavily relate to him. I’ve collected some scenes from the manga and two specific things from the third light novel.

If you could boost this (if you’re interested that’d be great because while I really enjoy doing this it does take a lot of time! With that being said let’s dive into this and I hope you find this interesting!

Could Shoto Todoroki be autistic? Here is why I think he absolutely could.

Emotional perception

Let’s start with one of the most obvious things about his character. The emotional factor.

Shoto doesn’t emote in the way his peers do. Now, of course this also plays into the brooding mysterious guy archetype, but that’s not what we’re talking about.

Shoto’s face is typically relatively neutral, this is apparent from the moment we first meet him and while he does tend to express his emotions more clearly later in the story, it doesn’t ever really change. Something that immediately comes to mind is how in chapter 202 Iida asks if Shoto is alright because Iida noticed his expression change (because he knows him very well by this point). Ojiro points out that he did not notice this, since Shoto’s face barely changes at all.

We see Shoto in a lot of situations where his peers show excitement while his expression remans completely flat. This lack of emoting is something extremely common in people with autism. It’s not that they don’t have emotions or don’t express them at all, they just do it in a way that is hard to understand for people outside the spectrum or those who don’t know the autistic individual very well. They often struggle to understand what emotion they’re feeling in the first place and of course it’s hard to express feelings if you don’t know what you’re feeling.

Shoto doesn’t only show difficulty expressing his emotions but also recognizing those of other people. One of the best examples of this is the final exam arc, where he gets paired up with Yaoyorozu. In chapter 63 specifically, he doesn’t realize that Yaoyorozu is upset about something even though to someone else it’d probably have been obvious. Only when Aizawa points out that he should listen to her does he notice that he’s been doing something wrong. Shoto didn’t notice she was upset, and he didn’t notice he was being rude.

Emotions and emotional responses are continuously shown to be difficult for Shoto to handle. What he has absolutely no issues with, on the other hand, are academics. Of course, we can naturally assume that he’s been drilled to study hard from a very young age, but he is also extremely intelligent outside of the classroom. During the sports festival he is the first person shown to figure out that the obstacle course poses a lot more disadvantages to the people in the lead, during the practical exam, he is able to come up with a solid strategy very quickly.

During the training camp arc, him and Deku are the ones to come up with a strategy to protect Bakugo on the spot. He also doesn’t seem to consider his intelligence anything special. A lot of autistic people tend to assume that other people’s experiences align with their own. This can be seen when he seems surprised about Denki worrying that he’ll fail the written final exam. He asks how he could possibly fail if he’s been attending class, like the concept is entirely foreign to him (also there’s about a 0% chance this was a joke because this is Shoto we’re talking about.) He is very good at logical problem solving but emotional issues seem to stump him.

Literacy and verbal filters

Moving on, another big factor that Shoto seems to struggle with is his tendency to be overly literal and very blunt. There are several instances where he says things that we as readers as well as other characters perceive as insensitive. Once again, his interaction with Denki about the final exams (chapter 60) can be an example. He didn’t seem to think it was inappropriate and because this is Shoto, he didn’t ask to tease him either. Denki even points out that this was insensitive to say. A more subtle example is his conversation with Izuku in chapter 73, when they talk about Kota. His overall phrasing is fine, but he remains very blunt and direct and essentially ends up telling Izuku that his tendency to cut to people’s hearts with his words is annoying.

My personal favorite for an example can be found in chapter 83, in the hospital after the training camp, when the class visits Izuku, Shoto points out that “Of course Bakugo isn’t here.” Needless to say, he couldn’t possibly have timed this statement any worse. It wasn’t necessary in the first place, but he didn’t register it as something inappropriate to say.

One example of not him being unintentionally rude but just showing a different approach to telling the truth is seen in the third light novel. The fifth chapter revolves around the class preparing a birthday party for Iida. At one point, Sato asks if Iida has food allergies out of nowhere. Iida naturally asks why he needs to know this, Shoto is immediately ready to answer the question honestly, which would have spoiled the surprise, had Izuku not stepped in.

Autistic people often have trouble seeing whether something is or isn’t appropriate to say. Neurotypical people’s brains have a filtering process, it helps them be aware of possible responses to a statement. This filtering process is not functional or only limited in autistic people.

Shoto is also overly literal. In chapter 57, he gets upset over his friends continuously getting their hands hurt and refers to himself as “the hand crusher”. He is very serious about this and does not understand how Iida and Izuku could possibly think he was joking.

In chapter 164, he answers Gang Orca’s metaphoric question entirely seriously. During the interview training in chapter 241 he first seems confused by the made-up mission in the first place. He then proceeds to ask Mt Lady if she has a heart condition when she uses the phrase “My heart would burst out of my chest”. Finally, he appears genuinely horrified when she calls him a “lady killer” (“My smile will kill women..?!”)

In chapter 257, when Mineta claims school talk will “ruin the taste of the food”, Shoto simply says it tastes the same to him, to which Mineta proceeds to call him out for being overly literal.

Autistic people typically struggle to understand jokes and sarcasm, in fact, it’s often one of the main characteristics in people with an ASD diagnosis.

Overfamiliarity and Oversharing

Shoto’s tendency to overshare is another thing that is very typical foe ASD.

He doesn’t seem to understand that telling his life story to a classmate he’s barely interacted with prior is not exactly an appropriate thing to do. He repeats this later with All Might and, most notably, in chapter 165, when talking to the preschoolers during his provisional licensing course.

He also seems to have a slightly different perception of what makes someone friends than his classmates. As shown in chapter 241, to him, spending time with Bakugo during the licensing course is enough to deem them friends. Even when Bakugo points out that there is no correlation between the time spent together and friendship, he still doesn’t seem to understand.

Autistic people tend to become overly familiar and are easily attached to people if they perceive just one of their interactions as positive.

Attachment to inanimate things

This is something not really shown in the manga, but noteworthy, nonetheless. We know that Shoto, upon moving into the dorm building, remodeled his entire room from a modern, more western style room, into a traditional Japanese style one. The second chapter of the third novels goes into depth about why he did this. Shoto was entirely dumbstruck and thrown off by how different the room is from what he was used to. He knew the traditional Japanese rooms from home and his brain assumed that the dorms would be the same. He felt like the different style was wrong. He doesn’t like the unfamiliar flooring and even a small thing like the positioning of the light switch bother him.

He’s not comfortable in the unfamiliar environment, so he decides to change it.

Autistic people often struggle to adjust to changes. In environment and routine. They feel most comfortable in a well established and familiar routine, that includes the feel of their living space. A change of environment this drastic would be extremely stressful for someone on the spectrum.

Another thing that isn’t particularly obvious but does make sense when considered is that Shoto seems to have a comfort food (cold soba). While he’s never shown or stated to be a picky eater he does seem to opt for the same food whenever he gets the chance. Autistic people often have a very restricted diet due to sensory processing issues that apply to food textures, smells and taste.

Additional points

Shoto seems to be a little face blind. He doesn’t know who Kota is when Izuku mentions him, which seems to genuinely surprise Izuku. He also didn’t remember Inasa at all despite them having been at the same entrance exam.

In chapter 202 he’s shown completely zoning out. Of course, this can happen to anyone, I just found it interesting because it was shown so clearly, making it obvious that it was something we should pay attention to.

In the novel chapter in which he remodels his room it is also mentioned that the feeling of synthetic floor against his feet upsets him.

Shoto also seems relatively indifferent to temperature. Of course, that would correlate to his quirk as well, but it is also common for autistic people to struggle with temperature perception as well as other things that neurotypical people don’t struggle to recognize like hunger or thirst. This specifically applies to situations where you would typically end up in pain like, for example, frostbite. Shoto would obviously be used tot his but him showing no reaction at all to his body halfway freezing over was a little unnerving.

He also is shown to be relatively uninterested in certain social events like for example the room competition after the class moves into the dorms. He doesn’t want to be there; he’d rather go to sleep. In the beginning he also shows clear disinterest in making friends with his classmates. Both very typical things for people on the spectrum.

In chapter 244, Hawks asks Shoto a question in a way that seems to confuse him so much he can’t even form a coherent response. [Hawks: “Seemed like you were in trouble, Endeavor.” Endeavor: “Me? Not a chance.” Hawks: “But it seemed that way, didn’t it, Shoto?” Shoto: “Um..I…uh…”]

He probably didn’t register if Hawks actually wanted him to answer or not.

In chapter 64 he mistakes Yaoyorozu crying for her feeling sick, horribly misreading her expressions.

This last point is more personal than the rest, watching his reactions to Endeavor’s fight with the Nomu in chapter 190 made me think of the stress progression that often causes autistic shutdowns. Shoto was clearly becoming more and more stressed as he was watching and once it was over simply seemed to shut down. That is a very typical response to emotional distress or overstimulation in autistic people.

Final disclaimer

This is purely for my own entertainment; it is not meant to be offensive to anyone and I am not saying that this is absolutely what is going on. I’m simply elaborating on a theory/headcanon that I have. That being said, if you have questions feel free to drop them in the ask box, I’d be thrilled!

[maddiwrites]

The Hybrid (I)

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: The Pogues rekindle their friendship with their old childhood best friend and JJ’s first crush, Y/N. Old feelings resurface for JJ and Y/N, possibly leading to a summer neither one of them could ever forget. Due to past trauma, Y/N is reluctant to let anyone into her heart, but JJ never backs down from a challenge, even if he knows it will come back to haunt him in the end.

Note: Thank you for being patient with me as I slowly write this series. I had this idea a long time ago and I’m not finding motivation to write it but the inspiration comes and go. I smile with every comment that is left on my fics and I’m so grateful for this community. Thank you for letting me pursue my creative writing without judgement. Love you guys! (Also, yes. If you didn’t see my last note, I based YN’s family off of the Gilmore Girls characters. That’s who I picture as them.)

Word Count: 8k

 Masterlist   Prologue 

You wake up to someone falling on your bed next to you with a dramatic sigh. Knowing exactly who it is, you choose to ignore her and try getting back to the dreamless sleep you were peacefully having before you woke up.

That is, until she sighs again. 

You flip onto your back and stare up at your ceiling fan that’s quickly spinning above you. “What, Rory?”

“How did it go with Andre and that boy?”

You look at her with one brow raised. “You woke me up to hear about Andre’s love life? That hardly sounds like you. You don’t care about high school drama or hookups.”

“You’re right,” Rory says. “But I thought I would ease you into what I actually need to tell you.”

You turn on right side and look at your sister confused. “What?”

She sighs. “The cafe’s basement flooded last night. Mom needs us there to help her clean up and take inventory on what’s salvageable.”

You turn back on you backside and close your eyes, exhaling a deep sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately not,” Rory says and pats you twice on your covered thigh as she sits up. “Come on. I made you pre-cafe coffee. It’s sitting in the kitchen.”

You throw your sheets off of you and trudge to the bathroom to brush your teeth and clean your face. It’s about 8 a.m. At least you were able to get about six hours of sleep. 

Last night, it was hard to let your brain rest to fall asleep. You kept tossing and turning, thinking about the blonde Pogue who walked you home. You missed how easy it was to talk to someone who you felt truly knew you. Your banter rolled off your tongue easily and you never had to worry about offending him because you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew what he could take and what he couldn't. 

Talking to him brought back childhood memories you had hidden deep in your mind. How JJ would constantly poke you until you ripped into a smile on days that were grey. How you used to steal John B’s bandanas until he was chasing you around his house to get them back. How you would draw a mustache and a unibrow on Pope’s face when he fell asleep by the water. 

Those days felt like they were decades ago. So far away, you didn’t know if you’d be able to reach for them again. If it was even possible to get back. 

You thought about texting him. Thanks for walking me back. We should all get together soon! You had written out. But then you deleted the whole message, telling yourself it was because you didn’t know if he even had the same number. But deep down, you were just afraid of the rejection. 

Its been about three years since the four of you had been together in one place. You don’t know what they’ve been through or if they’ve changed. They for sure as hell don’t know what you’ve been through. You don’t know if they're dynamic has changed. Clearly you and JJ can still joke with each other but what about John B and Pope? You heard about John B’s father disappearing at sea, most people believing he’s dead, but John B holding onto hope that’s he’s alive. You always thought about calling him to reach out and offer your condolences. But for the same reason you didn’t text JJ, you never called. It didn’t feel like your place. They had Kie for that now. A little part of you felt jealous of her, like she had replaced you and any memory of you. She seemed nice, but she wasn’t you.

“Ready?” Rory pops her head in to your room as you slip on a cropped plain white zip up jacket over your cropped black tank. 

“As I’ll ever be,” You say and snag the car keys out of her hands. “Don’t even think about it. I’m driving.”

Rory rolls her eyes. “I want to get there safely.”

“And I want to get there quickly.”

“Fine. But we’re taking my car. It actually has doors.”

For your sixteenth birthday, your grandparents gifted both you and Rory your own individual cars and even let you pick them out. Rory chose a black 2020 Honda Civic for it’s safety features and reputation for longevity as if she was planning on handing it down to her future kids. And you picked out a white 2020 Jeep Wrangler with a hard top that pops off along with the doors for a very open and thrilling ride. Everyone but you called it a death trap, but you found it to be the perfect summer car. 

You park Rory’s boring Honda Civic in the back of the cafe in a lot used specifically for employees. The cafe is already booming with teens and families, waiting for their morning coffees and fresh pastries. Kids your age are running around behind the counter with sweat dripping down their brow bone to get everyone’s orders out in a timely manner. 

In the back of the store, your mom walks up the steps from the basement with two large trash bags and immediately notices the two of you. “Oh good. You’re here. Rory, help the girls behind the counter. The dishwasher’s broken and poor Hailey is hand washing everything. Y/N, come with me downstairs.”

“Why does Rory get the fun job?” You grumble and follow your mom back downstairs after she tosses the two trash bags. 

“Because she’s actually nice to the customers.”

“Treat others how you would like to be treated. Isn’t that what everyone always says?” You smirk. You never agreed with the phrase ‘the customer is always right.’ It’s complete bullshit and being the employee shouldn’t mean letting yourself getting verbally abused by a ‘Karen’ on the other side of the counter. 

The basement is used for the cafe’s storage, lined with wooden shelves Steve put together that hold to go cups, back up espresso machines, boxes of coffee and food and ingredients, etc. Now all the boxes are dark and sopping, creating puddles on the concrete floor. 

“Oh my god. Mom. How did this happen?”

“Jenky water pipe busted in the middle of the night,” Steve walks down the stairs and passes your mom a knowing look. It didn’t surprise you that he was here. He’s the jack of all trades. Owns his own automotive shop, builds a lot of his own furniture, actually cooks a decent meal, and has the same outlook on customer service as you do. He was probably your mom’s first call. “Talked to the plumber. They can’t get here until at least noon.”

“Noon? We’ll be underwater by noon. I might as well turn all my employees into a swim team,” Your mom says.

Steve shakes his head. “I was able to hold the leak until he gets here. You should be fine.”

Steve was the first person that actually helped your mother out when's she moved to the Cut. Six months pregnant, she pushed her car into his automotive shop after it broke down on the side of the road. Their banter was similar to the one you and JJ have. He helped save your mom money by building yours and Rory’s cribs, changing table, and dressers. And ever since, the two of them had been connected by the hip, although they both refuse to admit it. You think the pair are just trying to deny the love they clearly share for each other. And you think the main reason for that is because of the incident four years ago with your mom’s ex boyfriend. No thanks to you.

 “Look at you constantly building your resume,” You smirk at him. 

Steve scoffs. “It’s more than what you’re doing.”

You roll your eyes. Steve is the closest thing you have to a father. He practically helped raise you with your mom. He’s the one you turn to whenever a fight with your mom goes too far, which isn't too often but it happens. He usually lets you stay at his house for the night to let you cool off. But he’ll never sugar coat his advice when it comes time for him to give it. Even if you don’t ask for it. He knows growing up with Rory has been challenging. She was clearly your mom’s favorite, or at least that’s what you thought. She has a 4.0 GPA with a realistic dream to get into Brown University and study journalism. She played by every rule, never got into trouble, and spent most of her free nights getting ahead of her school work or staying late at the cafe with an open book from the library across the street. She was an absolute angel to everyone else, making you look like her evil twin. 

You glare at him before turning to your mom with crossed arms. “What do you want me to do, Mom?”

“Actually honey. Can you go to Heywards and grab more coffee filters and napkins. The water soaked right through the plastic wrapping on our last box.”

You nod, leaving your mom and Steve to clean up the basement themselves. Before heading out, you sneak behind the counter and make yourself a quick coffee to go.

“Where you going?” Rory asks as she reaches behind you to grab a banana for her customer at the register.

“Heywards to grab a couple things for Mom.”

“Oh. Make sure to grab toilet paper while you’re out. I think we’re almost out of it.”

“Got it.” 

Heywards is only a short drive from your mom’s cafe. It’s the closest convenient store that isn’t crazy pricey. It’s where your mom gets all her supplies whenever she runs out of things before shipment gets there. 

You use to always come here when you were younger with the boys, each of you, even Pope, stealing a small bag of chips or a candy bar here and there. Little did any of you know, Mr. Heyward caught your thieving hands every time but never said anything. 

The bell above the door chimes when you walk into the store. You know this place as well as you know the cafe, finding the toilet paper and coffee filter immediately. 

When Mr. Heyward looks up from the counter, his smile grows. He can pick you out of a crowd anywhere, but he hasn’t seen you in a long time. Last time he saw you, you had braces and overgrown bushy brows. Now you had bushed hair and shaved legs. 

“Hi. Mr. Heyward,” You grin shyly at him. You don’t know how he’s going to react to see you, unsure of what Pope might have told him about you. 

“Little Miss Y/L/N? Is that you?” Heyward smiles widely, pulling your own lips into a wider smile. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy with school and my mom’s cafe...” Both of those things were a lie. You just avoid the Cut to avoid the Pogues. 

“How’s the fam?” 

“They’re good,” You say as Heyward hands you your bags. “Mom says hello by the way. I’m actually taking these to her store now.”

“Well, don’t be a stranger. We miss your smiling face around her. Anette, too.” Heyward says, mentioning his wife. 

“Tell her I said hi.”

“Of course, darling.” 

Heyward and Anette always had a special place in their heart for you and Rory. They’re not one for gossip, but they knew a little bit about what your mom’s been through and have heard plenty of stories about your grandparents. They always thought, despite your mom’s background, that you and your sister were raised impressively. Anette always hoped that one day Pope and Rory would get together. Everyone always wanted their child to be with Rory. 

As your about to leave the store, the bell chimes again with another customer. Only it’s not another customer. It’s Pope and John B. They don’t see you at first, and you wonder if maybe you can sneak out without them seeing you. But something about that felt wrong. Especially because Heyward would more than likely mention to them that you were here. 

Pope sees you first and stops in his tracks. “Y/N?” 

“Hey, guys. Long time no see,” You smile at both of them. You bite down on your lip awkwardly when you meet John B’s stare. You don’t know if you should mention anything about his dad’s disappearance. But what would you say? Sorry? What good would that do?

“How’ve you been?” Pope gives you a small side hug, then John B. 

You shrug. “You know, living the dream.”

“How’s life as a Hybrid?” John B smirks. 

You roll your eyes playfully and groan. “Oh god. Never call me that again.”

You may be considered a Hybrid by everyone else, but you would never put yourself into that category. You grew up a Pogue, the same way everyone else did around you. The only thing tying you to the Kooks are your grandparents. 

“Why?” John B smirks. “I wish I was a Hybrid.”

You smirk back. “Maybe you will be one day. I hear you have a Kook of your own for arm candy.”

You saw a faint hint of blush on John B’s cheek at the mention of his girlfriend but you don’t mention it. “Sarah, yeah. She’s not like the other Kooks.”

“I would hope not. Her brother’s a dick.”

“Yeah,” They laugh. 

“We miss you, you know.” John B says. Pope looks at you, trying to read your expression. John B’s not wrong. They do all miss you, especially Pope. He felt like you were the only one who really understood him. Of course his other friends are great, but you actually took the time to try and understand his passions. Like forensic science. 

“I miss you guys too. It’s been a while.”

“Well, hey. We’re actually all getting together tonight at my place. Nothing big. Just a bonfire and a couple beers. You should stop by,” John B says.

“Yeah,” Pope says, immediately getting hopeful that you’ll show up. 

Your smile falters. The invite makes your heart swell and your lungs contract. It’s an invite you’ve been wanting for three years. And now that you have it, you don’t know what to say. It’d be different if it was just the four of you like old times. But now there’s Kie and Sarah and although you have nothing against them, you’re afraid they won’t accept you. The thought of your boys picking them over you terrifies you. 

“Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll try to swing by later.” 

Pope smiles wide and looks at his friend to see his reaction. John B grins and nods, almost impressed that you had agreed. But he saw the twitch in your lips when the question was asked. 

“Great. I guess we’ll see you later then.” 

You nod. “Okay. Bye guys.”

You suck in a deep breath when the fresh air outside of Heyward’s store brushes over you. Your heart thumps wildly with both excitement and nerves when you’re finally able to collect your thoughts. You don’t know what you’ll do tonight, but the possibilities can change your entire summer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You spent the rest of the day mopping up the cafe’s basement and rearranging the shelves. You smelled of sweat and coffee grounds by the time you were done and dreamt of the shower you would be taking when you got home. 

Rory drove you home after the two of you closed up the cafe for the day. Neither of you said much. Rory was exhausted from running around behind the counter and you were too busy thinking about whether you’d go back to the place you used to call your second home.

You took a longer shower than usual, still pondering what your night would be like. Your head was telling you to stay home but your heart pulled you in the direction of the Cut. You yearned to hear about what the future held for Pope, and listen to John B retell stories of when you were kids, and be able to stare into JJ’s bright blue eyes without him noticing. 

You changed into a pair of jean shorts and a plain red cropped tank. Rory walks into your room as your brushing out your hair and looks at you as if you lost your mind.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t wear that,” She says.

You brows scrunch together in confusion. “What are you talking about? I wear shit like this all the time.”

“Not to the Country Club, you don’t.” That’s when it hits you. Today’s been so hectic, you forgot what day it was. “It’s Sunday.”

Sunday dinner at the Country Club is now a weekly commitment forced upon you by your grandparents. Each week, your mom, sister, and you are forced to spend one dinner with your grandma and grandpa. This is basically your mom’s payment back for sending you and Rory to Kook Academy. Only they actually pay for the dinner. It’s usually the longest two hours of your entire week. It’s hard to listen to your grandfather rant about Real Estate and your grandma slyly critique your mother in almost every aspect of her life. 

“Shit. I completely forgot,” You say.

“Well, you better change. We’re leaving in about five minutes,” Rory says then plucks a gold necklace from your dresser. “Oh and can I wear this tonight?”

You sigh. “Sure.”

You change into a baby blue wrap around dress and pin your wet hair into a half up half down due. It’s gonna have to work for the limited time you have to get ready. After applying a thin layer of makeup to look the least bit presentable, you meet your mom and sister by the front door.

“Finally,” Your mom says when she sees you. 

“Sorry. I didn’t realize it was Sunday.”

“It’s okay, honey. I just don’t think I can handle another late remark from Mom today.” She looks you up and down and grins. “You look great.”

Despite the many fiery fights you and your mom can have, she is also your best friend. It’s kind of like a love hate relationship. Steve says it’s because you’re exactly like your mom - almost like a sixteen year old version of her. 

You really hope that isn’t true. You’re not ready to have a kid in two years. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Your grandparents are already sitting at a round table in the corner of the country club by the two tall windows that reach up to the ceiling with a view looking out into the golf course. The best seat in the house for the richest a holes on the island. 

“Lorelai,” Your grandmother grins, but you can instantly tell it’s sarcastic. “Did you have to walk here?”

You speak up before your mom could. “Sorry Grandma. It’s my fault we’re late.”

Your grandparents are hard on your mom but easier on you and Rory, especially Rory.

“Well, you’re here now,” Your grandpa says. He’s usually the mediator between your mom and grandma. Although he’s usually sucks at it. “Sit. Sit.”

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, JJ shuffles through his many coworkers with his apron in one hand and a piece of fried calamari from Miss Carol’s appetizer in the other. 

“JJ -” She scolds and slaps his hand away from going in for a second piece. 

“Good evening Miss Carol,” JJ smirks and makes his way to the area between the kitchen and dining room where most of the servers and bust boys hang out. Some of the boys slap him on the back or shove him by the shoulder, chuckling to themselves. “What’s going on boys? Busy crowd?”

“What are you doing here? You never work Sundays,” His friend, Mitch, says. 

Luke Maybank was behind on several bills - worse than it’s ever been. They already shut off their electricity and JJ wanted to make sure the water wouldn’t be next. 

But JJ shrugs nonchalantly. “Little extra dough can't hurt.”

“Well, you picked a good day,” Raymond walks up to the blonde, rolling his sleeves. “You got Kook Royalty and their Hybrid offsprings in your section.” 

“What?” JJ looks through the small square Plexiglas on the swinging door. He knows exactly where to look and immediately sees you sitting with King and Queen Kook, looking absolutely miserable, pushing around your food with your fork. 

“Damn, Maybank. Almost broke your neck - you turned so fast.”

“Shut up, Easterling. I was just seeing how crowded we were,” JJ lied. He really just wanted to see if you were here. And now that he sees you are, he’s a little nervous to do his own damn job.

Raymond Easterling chuckles. “Yeah, I know what you were looking at. But don’t get your hopes up. There’s a reason Kooks call that girl the Heart Sucker. Not even the high and powerful JJ Maybank could get a piece of that.”

The guys around JJ and Raymond chuckle and nod in agreement, hearing the stories of how you’d reject every single guy that’s ever asked you out. Sometimes you’d go on a few dates, trying to push yourself out of your comfort zone, but then things would quickly become too much, and you’d get overwhelmed. 

JJ didn’t like the way Raymond talked about you or how the others laughed at your expense. His hands clenched into fists, tempted to throw a punch in Ray’s cocky face.  The guy’s just being a jerk because he’s one of the guys that got rejected by you, he thought. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” JJ shakes his head and ties his apron around his waist to distract his hands.

“No?” Raymond challenges him. “You think I’m wrong? You think you could pull the infamous Hybrid over there?”

JJ glances back through the window. You’re looking at your grandma with a clearly forced grin. You’re twirling your hair between your fingers, a habit you picked up when you were little to do when you’re bored. JJ would find you doing that in school all the time. 

You’re gorgeous, he thought. It’s no wonder that almost every guy on this island has tried to make a pass on you, including JJ himself, but his remarks always come off as playful, afraid of actually telling you how he feels about you. His fantasies about you went further than just getting you between the sheets. He could picture getting married, having children, and growing old together. Years ago, the two of you would talk about your future. Neither one of you cared about money or fancy jobs. All you wanted was to be free - of this island, of each other’s families, of responsibilities placed on you from birth. You hold the same values as JJ, and he’s never met another person like you. 

But JJ has a hard exterior. No one other than his best friends know his true heart, and he wasn’t going to let someone like Raymond Easterling find out about his soft spot for you. He would never hear the end of it.

JJ looks at you one last time. You’re talking to Rory, your face in his direction. This time you’re smiling, probably discussing something other than your grandparent’s expectations of you. He’d kill to see that smile every single day.

What’s the worst that could happen? You reject him? Yeah, that might kill JJ inside, but maybe you’d still be his friend, or continue to be acquaintances like you are now. As long as he gets to see you, he’d be okay. There was always the future. But who knows? Maybe you’d say yes? He’ll never know unless he tries. Right?

JJ fakes the same cocky grin that Raymond wears. “I haven’t failed yet.”

The guys around him whistle and shake their heads with smiles. 

“All right, Maybank. Let’s make a bet. I’ll give you one hundred dollars to get Y/N Y/L/N in the sack by the fourth of July.”

JJ scoffs. “You like giving away free money?” He ignored his racing heart at the thought of being that intimate with you.

Raymond nods. “Okay. Let’s put your money where your mouth is. Get her to say ‘I love you’ by the end of the season and I’ll raise you an extra hundred and cover all your dishwasher shifts in September.”

JJ raises his brows with surprise. No one offers to take the dishwashing shift. Sometimes the boys are pulled back there when the kitchen is short staffed and it’s easily one of the worst jobs at the Club.

This bet was almost too good of an opportunity to pass up. “Deal.” JJ says.

The boys shake hands on it and the other guys whisper to each other about how intrigued they are to see this play out.

JJ wipes his sweaty palms against his apron and pushes the door open to approach your table, hoping he can hear you over his thudding heart. 

“Good evening folks. May I take those empty plates out of your way?”

You look up at the voice you know so well and a smile raises on your lips. JJ meets your eyes and he winks at you, splattering your heart in flutters. 

“Please.” Your grandmother pushes her plate away from her, stuffed with filet and red wine.

“JJ,” Your mom grins up at him. Growing up, your mom always had a soft spot for the blonde Pogue. She’s heard the stories about his father, mostly from Steve, who actually grew up with Luke Maybank, his cousin. As a child, he was sent to live with Luke Maybank and his single father. Lets just say, he’s not surprised by the way Luke turned out. “Look at you. You’re all grown up now. Last time I saw you, Y/N was still pushing your head in the sand for stealing her popsicle.”

“Yeah. I quickly learned no one should mess with Y/N and her food,” JJ says.

“Never stopped you though,” You smirk at him.

“Lorelai. Who is this?” Your grandma asks, disregarding the boy himself.

“Mom,” Lorelai gives her mom a warning look. “This is JJ Maybank. He went to school with Y/N and Rory.” Lorelai knew to play it safe with her wording. She didn’t know where you and JJ stood. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him and she knew better than to ask. 

“Nice to meet you,” JJ says politely. “I’d shake your hand but mine are kinda full.” He motions to the plates in his hand.

“That’s quite all right.” Your grandma’s smile is so forced, it makes you uncomfortable. 

“I won’t hold you up. Has your server been around with the dessert menu?” JJ looks at you. “We have chocolate cake tonight.”

Heat rushes up your neck. Not because of the cake itself but because JJ remembered your favorite dessert. Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate sprinkles. It was safe to save you were a choco-holic. The boys use to make it for you every year for your birthday. It usually came out burnt, none of them ever remembering how to properly make it. But it was all you needed to feel like a very special girl. 

“Your favorite,” Rory elbows you.

Your grandma cringes. “Sounds like diabetes on a plate.”

“Mom,” Lorelai scolds. 

“What?” She asks, not understanding the concept of a filter.

Now heat rushes to your cheeks for an entire different reason. “He did. We’re not doing dessert tonight. Thank you, though.”

JJ nods but feels disappointed by the way your face flinched at your grandmother’s comment. 

“My pleasure,” He says like he was taught to do and excuses himself to drop the plates off in the back before he can say anything else that would probably get him fired.

Your mom looks at your with raised brows. “He’s cute, honey.”

“Lorelai, please. He’s the busboy,” Your grandma says.

“He’s a good kid, Mom.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” You stand up. “I have to use the restroom.”

Rory gives you a knowing grin as you walk away from the table. When you walk into the hallway between the dining area and the front lobby, you immediately feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Sometimes just the presence of your grandparents and their pompous judgements can be suffocating. You do your best to bite your tongue around them, excusing yourself when you feel yourself getting heated. 

JJ catches a glimpse of your light blue dress out of the corner of his eye when he rounds the corner to collect the plates off a different table. He looks over his shoulder at Raymond, who’s staring at the blonde watching you, and winks.

“Hey, Y/N,” JJ says, walking up to you.

You look up from your phone and immediately smile. “Hey. I was actually hoping I’d catch you out here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You nervously tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry about my grandmother. She can be...”

JJ shakes his head. “Hey. It’s okay. I work for Kooks almost every single day. I’m use to it.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Don’t apologize for something you can’t control,” JJ says. “Besides, that’s probably the nicest she’s ever been to me.”

You hide your face in your hands. “Stop. You’re making it worse.”

JJ laughs and takes your wrists in his hands, slowly pulling them away from your face. Your eyes shoot up to his, immediately feeling a tingling feeling run through your skin, straight to your heart. 

“It’s okay. I promise,” He says softly. His voice is so sincere that you have no other option but to believe him. It almost makes your feel guiltier, wondering how much bullshit he’s been through with ungrateful Kooks that it’s so easy for him to forgive and forget.

“Okay,” Your voice is a whisper, taken off guard by how close he is to you and how he still hasn't let go of your hands. 

In that same moment, JJ realizes he’s still holding you and gently removes his hands. He coughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck, where sweat begins to bubble. Why is he so nervous?

“So um...” You say, suddenly feeling nervous too. “You going to John B’s tonight?”

JJ’s eyes shoot up in surprise. How did you know that? “Yeah. I’m heading over there after work.”

“I saw him and Pope at Heywards earlier today and they invited me over. I wasn’t sure if I should come or not.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Because it’s different now, you wanted to say. But you didn’t because you feel like the elephant in the room would only grow. And you didn’t want to admit you were nervous to meet Kie and Sarah outside of school. 

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“You should definitely come. The boys miss you.”

You pretend like a little piece of your heart didn’t just break when JJ didn’t say ‘we.’ 

“What time do you get off of work?”

“Around 9ish.”

You nod. “I can pick you up if you’d like and we could go together?”

Your heart races after you suggest it. What if he says no? Why were you feeling this way? This is the same kid you use to make fun of for pouring milk into his bowl before his cereal. 

“Yeah. That’d be perfect.”

“Great!” Your phone pings with a text from Rory, telling you that your grandparents are wondering where you are. “Shit. I have to get back. I’ll see you at nine?”

“See you then,” JJ nods and turns back to the kitchen. When his eyes meet Raymond’s, he’s reminded of what he agreed to. Almost surprised how quickly he forgot about it. You were able to take his mind off of anything without even trying. He clears his throat to get rid of the giddy grin he was wearing after talking to you, wanting to look tough and casual in front of his coworker. “Easy.” He says to him. But that felt anything but easy. He could vomit with nerves.

“There’s still plenty of time for you to screw up, Maybank.”

JJ huffs. He’s not wrong. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

You drive up to the front of the country club and park in front of the main entrance. It’s 8:57. You’re early and will look eager. So you wait until 9:06 to text him that you’re here.

You changed into a pair of dark washed denim shorts, a yellow cropped tube top, a grey flannel, and navy converse. You changed your outfit about four times before deciding on your first one, not wanting to look too casual or too dressed up. 

For the last three years, you wondered when the four of you would get back together as a group. You wondered if it would ever happen. And now that two Kooks are involved, you feel more nervous than excited.

You jump when the passenger seat door opens, lost in the depth of your own head. JJ smiles, not seeing your reaction.”Cool ride,” he says and looks around the interior. 

“Thanks,” you say, pulling out into the road.

“I got you something,” JJ says.

You glance at him with furrowed brows. What could he have possibly gotten you since you saw him last? A book mark from the Country Club’s gift shop?

JJ reaches into his backpack and pulls out a plate with clear wrap around it. Your mouth drops when you see the chocolate cake on a plate in his hands, the smell immediately hitting your nose with pure delight.

“You saved me a piece?” You jump in your seat excitedly.

“Had to hide it good too or else Miss Carol would have had my ass handed to me,” JJ jokes and even pulls out two forks. He undoes the wrapping and cuts off a piece. He waits until you hit a stop sign and says, “Open up.”

You look at him and immediately open your mouth. He gently places the fork between your lips and you take the piece of cake off with your teeth. Like a baby.

Your eyes close with pure pleasure. “Oh my god. That’s amazing.”

“Miss Carol does know how to bake a mean cake,” JJ says and takes a bite of his own.

“Another one,” You say, glancing at the cake again. Like you said, choco-holic. “Please.” You say when JJ teases you by holding the fork away from you.

JJ laughs. “I like hearing you beg.”

You slap him in the arm with the back of your hand. “In your dreams, Maybank.”

“You got that right, Y/L/N.”

The two of you finish the cake with only a few bites each. Small but rich in chocolate that leaves you craving more. You were gonna have to meet this Miss Carol woman. 

After he puts the plate back in his bag, JJ reaches for the aux cord, but you quickly slap his hand away. “Hey. What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re seriously gonna make me listen to this the entire way to John B’s?”

You scoff. “I’ll have you know Blink-182 is one of my favorite bands.”

“It’s also soccer moms’ favorite band,” JJ laughs at you.

You turn up the volume, blasting ‘All the Small Things’ and point to your ear. “Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

JJ rolls his eyes but laughs along with you, even bopping his head to the beat. You drive with the windows down, dancing and singing along to a bunch of throwback songs with JJ as if the two of you have been doing this forever. 

You pull up to John B’s and park behind his dad’s old van, better known as The Twinkie. When you turn down the music, JJ looks at you with a shake in his head. “Next time, I’m driving.”

“What was wrong with my driving?”

“We’re in the Outer Banks, Sparky, not NASCAR.”

You scoff and follow behind JJ who’s leading the way up John B’s driveway. As you get closer, you smell the smoky scent of a bonfire nearby and eventually hear John B’s laugh mixed in with a female’s. Your smile falters as nerves gather in the pit of your stomach. 

“What’s wrong?” JJ asks.

“Nothing,” You say, but JJ easily catches your lie and gives you a knowing look. “What if they don’t like me?”

“Who? Pope and John B? I’m pretty sure they like you more than me even after three years -”

“Not them, you idiot,” You shove him playfully by the shoulder as you two let yourselves inside. “Sarah and Kie.”

“Don’t you go to school with them?”

“Yeah, but we don’t talk,” You say quietly, not wanting them to hear you.

“Hm.”

“What?” JJ shrugs. “Nothing. I just didn’t think you cared about what other people thought.”

“I don’t,” You say quickly. “But they're your best friends. It’s different.”

“You don’t need their approval. You technically were here first.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been replaced,” You try to say it as a joke and even throw a smirk in there. 

But JJ stops in his track and looks at you seriously. “No one can replace you. Not even if they tried.”

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re at a loss for words. It’s not a common occurrence that JJ gets all serious on you. Warmth covers you like a blanket and the longer he holds your stare, the weaker your knees become. 

“JJ! Is that you?” John B calls out from the backyard.

“Yeah,” JJ yells back. He opens the fridge in John B’s kitchen. “Want a beer?” He offers to you.

You shake your head. “No thanks.”

For the first time, you take in John B’s home. It looks the same as it did three years ago, only a lot messier. The pull out couch looks like its been used recently with blankets and sheets tossed about on it. Empty beer cans and cigarette butts are thrown messily on the coffee tables and the air smells faintly of old marijuana. 

JJ leads you out to the back where four people are gathered around a fire. Three out of the four immediately smile when the two of you approach them, but Kie’s eyes narrow and her head tilts with confusion.

Shit, you think. 

“You came!” Pope laughs and hops up from his beach chair and embraces you in a hug.

You laugh, not expecting the embrace, but welcoming it all the same. John B’s next, giving you a quick hug and shaking his head.

“I gotta say, I didn’t think you were going to come,” John B says.

“You can thank me for that later,” JJ says jokingly.

“Actually when I heard JJ was coming, I almost changed my mind and stayed home,” You joke and smirk JJ’s way.

“Just like old times,” Pope says, looking between you and the blonde. The banter felt like the yall never separated in the first place. 

“Hey, you know Sarah and Kie, right?” John B points to the girls. Sarah stands up to say hi, and eventually Kie follows her, not wanting to look rude, but stays off to the side, keeping her distance.

“Yeah,” You wave awkwardly. 

“Hey!” Sarah says sweetly. “I didn’t realize you guys use to all hang out.”

“Y/N grew up down the street,” JJ explains and sips at his beer. 

“You want a drink or something?” Pope asks you, not knowing JJ already did.

“No thank you,” You say again.

“You don’t drink?” Kie asks. It was the first thing she’s said to you.

“Not usually,” You say and hold her stare. You try to get a read on her, but she’s had to get a tell on. You can’t tell if she just doesn’t like you or just doesn’t know you. Either way, it makes you uneasy. 

“Here, I’ll go grab you a chair,” Pope says and walks to the side of the house to grab another beat up beach chair. 

As the night goes on, you feel the tension in your shoulders loosen and your body feel lighter. Most of the night was spent retelling childhood stories the four of you shared. Sarah would laugh at most of them, occasionally rolling her eyes at her boyfriend from the stupid shit he would do, although it sounds like he’s no different to you now. 

You talked about the time you and JJ stole a golf cart for a joy ride on Figure Eight, or when you and John B pranked Pope by putting a dead fish in his locker, or how you and John B learned how to play guitar from youtube tutorials. 

Midnight came around quickly and exhaustion was slowly taking over your body. It’s been a long day between the cafe flooding, dinner with your grandparents, and now this. 

JJ was the first to notice you slowly fading. 

“You okay?” He asks you quietly as everyone else is caught up in conversation. 

“Yeah,” You say, lazily grinning at him. 

“We can leave if you want,” He says.

“You’re not staying?” You ask. It sounded like everyone was planning to spend the night here. And as much as you wanted to, you just didn’t feel comfortable enough yet. 

JJ shrugs. “My dad’s out of town tonight. It’ll be nice to have the house to myself.” Before you can say anything, he stands and brushes his hands against his pants. “All right, losers. We’re out of here.”

“Aw, you’re leaving?” Sarah pouts.

“Yeah, I’m beat and Y/N’s my ride home,” JJ says.

You were glad he didn’t call you out for being tired. You didn’t want to look lame in front of everybody, especially Kie.

“Thanks for having me,” You say to everyone. It might have been John B’s house, but it was everyone’s night you intruded on.

John B stands up to hug you. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

You nod. “I won’t. I promise.”

Pope hugs you next. “Text me when you get back safe.”

“I will.”

“Bye!” Sarah waves and Kie exhales a ring of smoke from her blunt.

You wave at them before following JJ back to your car. 

“Nuh-uh-uh,” JJ says. You didn’t realize you both walked to the driver’s side.

“What? No.”

JJ nods and holds his hands out for your keys. “I’m not dying tonight.” 

“You’ve been drinking and smoking all night,” You say. You didn’t think JJ was drunk or even that high, but you were not going to let a teenager with an ounce of alcohol in his system get behind the wheel. “Next time. For now, hold on to the cupholder.”

JJ sighs dramatically and goes to the other side of the car and hops in the passenger seat. 

This time you keep the music quiet, listening to the hum of the radio instead of your phone. 

“Take a left,” JJ says.

“JJ, I know where you live. And it’s not left.”

“Don’t you trust me?” 

You snicker. “Not in the slightest.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “Just take the left.”

You hold your hands up in surrender and take the left turn. He directs you for a couple more miles until he has you park in front of a 24 hour diner. 

“What are we doing here?” You ask.

“I’m in the mood for a milkshake.”

“We just had cake!” You say.

“Come on, Sparky. Show me what that mouth can do,” JJ smirks. 

You go to hit him again but he takes off running to the front entrance and pulls the door open. You chase after him, almost running into his back at the front host stand where JJ safely smirks at you in triumph.

“Two please,” He says to the hostess. 

The old cranky woman leads you to a booth off to the side next to a window without a word. 

A couple minutes later, a waitress walks by and asks if you’re ready to order. 

“Yes. One chocolate milkshake and one black and white milkshake,” JJ orders for both of you, already knowing what flavor you’d want.

“And fries, please.” You say. The waitress nods, takes your menus, and walks off. JJ raises his brow at the extra order. “What?” You shrug. “Just showing you what my mouth can do.”

JJ scoffs. “What a tease.” 

You playfully kick his shin under the table.

“Did you have fun tonight?” JJ asks.

“Yeah,” You answer. “Felt like old times. The girls are nice too.”

You were about to only mention Sarah, but you didn’t want to cause any issues with Kie. Not yet at least. Maybe she just needed time to warm up to you.

“See? I told you they wouldn’t bite.”

A couple minutes later, the waitress comes back with your milkshakes and fries. 

“How’s John B doing? You know, with the whole Big John thing?” You ask delicately, unsure of how JJ would react to you pestering about John B’s business. “I didn’t want to ask and bring the mood down,” You explain yourself although you don’t need to.

JJ shrugs. “He’s in denial I think. Won’t sign a death certificate until he sees a body. He could be worse, though.”

“Yeah,” You say softly. You don’t know what you would do if you were in that situation. In a way you felt lucky that you never knew your dad at all. It would be harder to lose him, knowing who he was.

You take a fry and dip it into your milkshake before taking a bite. This makes JJ freeze and look at you like you have two heads. 

“What?” You say with your mouth full.

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” You say and give him a look to do it.

JJ reluctantly picks up the fry and dunks it into his milkshake. He looks at the fry questioningly before popping it into his mouth. Somehow the sweetness of the milkshake and the saltiness of the french fry complement each other beautifully and his widen in pleasant surprise. 

“Oh wow,” JJ says.

“Told you,” You smirk.

You spend the next hour catching up, trying to fit the last three years into an hour. JJ does most of the talking because you want to know more about what John B, Pope, and JJ have been up to. Your life was so boring and depressing, you didn’t want to bore JJ with the details.

You drive JJ home and talk for a few minutes more when you park. He seems to be procrastinating getting out of the car, but you don’t mind. You could talk to him all night, suddenly not feeling tired anymore.

“All right. I’ll let you get home before the sun rises,” He says and opens the door. He pauses when his feet hit the ground and he looks back at you. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I have to work at the shop, why?”

“Well, there’s a storm coming in. John B and I might go out to surf the surge before it hits. You still surf?”

You scoff. “Do I still surf?”

JJ holds his hands up in surrender. “Just checking. You think you can handle the surge?”

“Let’s not forget who the better surfer is, JJ.”

“I didn’t. It’s still me.”

“You wish.”

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Now you have a point to prove. You have to show JJ that you’re still the better surfer. 

“I'll see you tomorrow,” You agree. 

“Great, it’s a date.” He winks and shuts the door before you can tell him otherwise. 

You giggle to yourself as JJ walks up the front yard and stay there until he you see he gets in safely. 

You pull out of the driveway, wishing he had asked you out on a real date. One that didn’t involve John B.

Tag list: @super-funky-bisexual​ @sunsetswithjj​ @moniamaybank​ @throwawayfish​ @poguestyle17​ @5am-cigarette​ @jjpouggues​ @fly-away-from-here​ @buckys2thicc​

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

The Song of Death

FIRST LAST LIFE WRITING!!! god this first session has inspired me SO much and i can't wait to see where this all goes!

...

The red writing is imprinted in his brain. Just two words, changing the objective and potentially the outcome of his first day here. And maybe even his entire game.

Finally, Etho breaks the silence: “You’re not the boogeyman, right?”

Bdubs shakes his head, keeping his voice steady. “No, no I’m not. Are you?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Unfortunately?”

Etho shrugs. “I dunno, it would’ve been cool to be able to just go ham right away and murder a person, but maybe it’s better like this. I mean…” He takes a slightly nervous step back. “If you WERE the boogeyman, you wouldn’t kill me right here, would you?”

“Why not?” Bdubs’s eyes flash briefly. “All alliances are off when you’re the boogeyman. And we’re not even allies.”

“We’re not?” asks Etho.

“Well, not yet. Do you wanna be allies?”

Etho thinks about this for a second. “Depends if you’re gonna kill me whether we are or not. I can take you murdering me but not betrayal. Not this early.”

Bdubs clears his throat. “Well, I’m not the boogeyman. So sure, I’ll make this alliance.”

“Really?” Etho says in mild surprise.

“Yeah. I like you. We can help each other survive the early game.”

“Huh. Okay, then! Guess you’re stuck with me forever.”

Bdubs snorts as he starts to mine further down the hole they’re in. “Forever?! I honestly doubt I’ll last twenty minutes with you.”

“Like I’m the annoying one in this partnership, Mr Five-Eight,” snickers Etho.

Sure enough, he gets the reaction he expected in a choked squawk from his close friend. “I’m five-TEN!”

“Uh huh.”

…

“Hey look, there’s Grian!” Bdubs beckons Etho over towards the enchanting table set up at spawn. “Grian!”

Etho follows Bdubs over to the table, where Grian is just pulling his enchanted boots back on.

“Hey, guys,” he says, his muscles tensing slightly. “You two aren’t the boogeyman, right?”

“I’m very sure Bdubs is not,” replies Etho confidently. “We’ve been caving together for about an hour and a half, most of it alone. He would’ve had no reason not to kill me.”

“I can say the same about Etho,” Bdubs adds.

Grian visibly relaxes. “Good.”

He takes off his chestplate and starts to enchant it.

“Hey Etho, you got the record?” asks Bdubs pointedly, setting down the jukebox.

Etho nods and slips the record into the box, causing the haunting song to start playing.

“What is that?” Grian snickers.

Bdubs crouches ominously. “This is the song of death.”

“Yeah, when you hear this song, it means somebody’s about to die,” jokes Etho.

Grian laughs. “Oh PLEASE tell me one of you is the boogeyman so you can actually do this.”

“I am.”

Etho doesn’t have time to process these two words before Bdubs charges at Grian and attacks him with his sword. Gasping, Etho hurriedly backs away, eyes wide with fear, as Bdubs continues to furiously attack Grian, who is so taken by surprise that he’s hardly able to get his shield up.

As Grian lets out a screech, Etho rushes towards Bdubs in a daze, totally unprepared for battle. The emotional part of his brain is screaming at him to do something, anything. Save Grian. Stop Bdubs. Just do someth-

Grian was slain by BdoubleO100

Adrenaline still coursing through his veins, Bdubs turns to Etho, opening his mouth to jubilantly brag about his kill.

But he stops as he registers that Etho has frozen, staring at him with terrified eyes, his body lowered slightly as if ready to bolt at any second.

“Etho?” says Bdubs hesitantly, reaching out towards him.

Etho immediately backs away a few steps, moving his shield into position to protect him. “Stay back…!”

“Etho, it’s okay!” Bdubs reassures him, quickly lowering his sword. “It’s okay, I’m cured now. I can’t kill anyone else. You’re safe, buddy.”

Etho watches him nervously. The spark of red in Bdubs’s eyes that Etho noticed when he attacked is gone now, leaving only genuine emotion. So after a moment, Etho relaxes, lowering his shield slightly. “You really were it?”

Bdubs nods. “Yup.”

“The whole time?”

“The whole time.”

As Etho pauses again, Grian reappears with all his stuff, looking more than a little disgruntled. “Tell me you didn’t know,” he snaps at Etho. “TELL ME you didn’t know he was it!”

“I didn’t!” Etho says hurriedly. “I promise, I didn’t know!”

“I didn’t tell him,” confirms Bdubs. “Etho had no part in this.”

Grian angrily turns on him. “He just stood there and let you kill me!”

“You really think he’s gonna get in the way of a boogeyman charging in for the kill?” Bdubs snaps back. “Leave Etho alone. He’s not culpable here.”

Finally, Grian huffs and turns away. “Fine. Just stay away from me.”

“Can do. C’mon, Etho.”

Etho dithers as Bdubs and Grian start walking away in opposite directions, torn between going with his ally and apologising to his friend. His former friend.

“Etho, c’mon,” Bdubs says again.

Etho quickly trots to catch up with his friend, shooting him a sideways glance. “Why didn’t you kill me, Bdubs?”

“Hmm?” Bdubs glances back at him. “What do you mean?”

“We were alone together so much. You had every opportunity to kill me. Why didn’t you, if you were the boogeyman all along?”

Bdubs is silent for a while, then he hops up onto a tree stump and gazes down at Etho with an odd expression. “Cuz we’re allies. And I want you to remember this for the future if you become the boogeyman.”

“Remember you not killing me?” Etho says with a frown. “I thought all bets are off when you’re boogeyman.”

“They are. What I’m telling you to remember is how many times I could’ve killed you but didn’t. You owe me.”

Etho blinks. “Owe you?”

“Unofficially,” clarifies Bdubs. “More like a gentleman’s debt. Just a promise that if you become boogeyman, you won’t kill me.”

After a brief hesitation, Etho scrutinises his old friend closely. “Really? That’s it?”

“Yeah. Listen, Etho; you’re one of my oldest friends. I want this alliance to go far. But I can’t fully relax around you knowing that you could kill me any time a boogeyman is assigned. Know what I mean?”

Etho doesn’t respond.

“And besides, there’s fifteen other people on the server you could go for,” Bdubs adds. “R-Right?”

Etho can hear the slightest hint of desperation creeping into Bdubs’s voice, and he realises now what this is about. Last season, Bdubs formed an alliance on the first day that carried him through until her death. He wants that again. Maybe he NEEDS it again.

And after being betrayed by Impulse last season, maybe Etho needs that too.

“Right,” he says finally. “But you won’t betray me, right? I know our alliances won’t carry through to our last life, but can we at least make a promise that we won’t kill each other immediately?”

“Why’s that, Etho?” asks Bdubs teasingly. “Don’t think you can bring yourself to kill a former ally?”

Etho hesitates. “Let’s just say… last season, I was faced with that exact situation and I froze, and it cost me my last life. I don’t want that to happen again.”

“Oh.” Bdubs falls silent for a moment, knowing exactly what Etho is referring to. “Well… okay, then. We may not be allies anymore once one of us turns red but I promise that I’ll spare you as much as possible.”

“Thanks, Bdubs. I promise the same.”

Bdubs grins at his friend and hops down from the stump. “Good. Now c’mon, let’s go make a base.”

Etho falls into step behind him. “So… was it scary?”

“Being the boogeyman? Oh yeah, it was terrifying. I kept thinking I’d turn on you at any moment, like I wouldn’t have any control over myself. And when I made the decision to kill Grian, I…” He hesitates. “I was so sweaty and nervous. So I don’t think it’s like Among Us with the whole imposter instinct to kill or being a red lifer with the bloodlust driving you on. You gotta genuinely turn on someone you care about and kill them to preserve your own existence in this world.”

“Wow.” Etho suppresses a shiver. “That’s brutal.”

Bdubs nods slowly, recalling the horror he experienced when his sword sliced through his friend. How Etho and Grian had both looked at him with pure fear after he did it. The guilt gnawing at him despite being free of the boogeyman curse.

“That’s Last Life.”

[thefanficmonster]

Much Cooler

Corpse Husband & Emma Langevin 

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: There’s always a certain level of uncertainty when meeting someone you’ve only known online. There’s that sense of insecurity that your relationship with them will never be the same or - even worse - that their view of you might change for the worse. But there’s nothing more thrilling than seeing the person you’ve been talking to constantly for the past however long standing across from you. 

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request and I’m so terribly sorry for how late it’s coming out but I hope the fic makes it worth the wait! Lots of love, Vy ❤

“CORPSE! Wake up you famous dumbass!“ is the first thing the poor man heard over the phone at 9 AM on this fine Saturday morning.

It’s more than enough to make him contemplate why he even decided to pick it up in the first place considering he wouldn’t have been very able to participate in the conversation due to his sleepiness. He also, of course, made the mistake of not checking the caller ID which apparently wasn’t necessary considering how recognizable that voice and accent are.

“It’s 9 AM, Emma.“ He states as a tired parent would to a child, “I’m concerned as to why you’re up so early. More so as to why you’re calling me of all people.“

He can practically hear her roll her eyes but he still smirks to himself, knowing she can’t contradict him or argue since he’s completely right with his claims. “Whatever. Remind me to never call you to congratulate you on a milestone again.“

Now that pokes at his attention with a stick. Lately, said attention has proven to be a hibernating bear, leaving Corpse with a lack of interest or motivation for anything but damn if that sentence wasn’t enough to roll him out of bed and hop on PC. “What? What milestone? Subscribers?“

“Nope! You got two million likes on ‘E-girls are ruining my life’! I can’t believe I have to tell you this! Didn’t you notice the numbers climbing?!“ Emma, as annoyed and sarcastic as she’s trying to sound, she’s obviously overjoyed on his behalf and is super proud of him and of the project she luckily agreed to take a small part in.

As his PC boots up, Corpse can’t help but roll his eyes at Emma’s comment, “Well unlike you I have better things to do than refresh a page over and over aga-” His sentence is quickly cut off when he sees the number of likes under the song for himself.

Knowing that he’d find it there didn’t change the feeling of seeing it for the first time at all. It’s so surreal and so hard for his mind to comprehend. Seeing as how little he thinks of himself, his content and his art, this is like his success coming to slap him across the face as if to punctuate to him how wrong that mindset is.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt if you offered to take me out for at least a coffee to celebrate, bro.“ Emma comments sarcastically, joking only halfway from what he can sense.

He smirks, “Trying to even the playing field, I see.” He replies, referring to the fact that he’s still a faceless mystery to her while her face is literally the cover art for one of his songs.

She laughs but is quick to dismiss his claim, “Nah, I might be a curious and nosey little shit on other occasions, but other people’s privacy is not something I dig my nose into. However, if I were to even the playing field between us it wouldn’t be appearance-wise. More personality-wise. For my sake and yours I choose to believe you are way cooler in person than you are through messages or on a call.”

This withdraws a genuine fit of laughter from Corpse who throws his head back, a few strands of hair moving aside to reveal his shiny eyes, “Well then, instead of giving me the benefit of the doubt, how about we settle it once and for all? Tomorrow? I’ll text you the location.”

Emma’s eyebrows shoot upwards as soon as she comprehends his words and the tone that leaves no room for her to assume he’s joking, “Wait what? How come you’re agreeing to this? And so easily? Nah, this a trap if I’ve ever seen it.”

Corpse laughs yet again, “No trap, Em. I just can’t have you doubting my coolness.”

                                                             *  *  *

The main reason as to why Corpse requested for this meeting to be today is because he feared that if he had more than twenty four hours to dwell on it he’d chicken out. Little did he know it was the same for Emma. Their friendship has only ever existed with the bridge of social media connecting them and they both can’t help but fear the other might not like who they are IRL. They fear they unintentionally become a different person or change things about themselves subconsciously when communicating with people online. Bottom line, they’re scared of letting the other person down with who they really are, unaware that their personalities are most likely the exact same because, as the people who know them can confirm, neither Corpse nor Emma are the type to put on a show in order to be liked. They would rather have no friends because of who they are than have friends and fans of their persona instead of the real them.

And so, while slightly afraid and anxious about this meeting, both of them see it as a relief test to see if the friendship is in fact as real as it’s seemed these past months.

Corpse was the one to choose the location of their meet-up, a location Emma didn’t even think twice about agreeing on, and ever since, they’ve both been counting the hours until their scheduled meeting time.  It’s not about impressing each other, at least that’s what they’re both telling themselves, but rather proving to the other that they’re worthy of their friendship. They might throw snarky and sarcastic comments at one another that others would give a side-eye glance to and question if their friendship is real, but they know the dynamic best and they sure as hell don’t wanna lose it or each other.

Best friends are the ones who roast each other after all - you can’t tell me I’m wrong.

The nervous Corpse fidgets with the insides of his hoodie pockets as he waits outside the café, having arrived ten minutes early because he couldn’t stand being alone with his thoughts in his apartment, judging every fragment of himself twice as harshly as usual. Emma, on the other hand, could barely bring herself to leave her home. She kept retouching her appearance, despite knowing Corpse wouldn’t judge her even if she showed up in pjs. To be fair she contemplated doing just that several times because her hair pissed her off enough to get her discouraged on her outfit altogether but she did eventually talk herself into pulling it together. She already knew she’d be at least five minutes late, but once again, she knew Corpse wouldn’t care.

He’d wait, cause that’s the kind of friend he was. Cause that’s the kind of friend she was for him too.

And boy did it take her less than a second to recognize him. She wasn’t even out of the car when she saw him and knew it was exactly who she was looking for. He too, as if with a sixth sense that registered her presence, shoots his head up from his phone to look up at her, their gazes meeting. There’s a brief moment of close-to-shocked silence, their eyes a bit widened as their brains comprehend that they’re within arm’s reach of one another.

That’s when Emma’s the first to break the bubble of awe as a wide grin spreads across her face and she runs to Corpse, wrapping him in a hug before he’s even realized the distance between the two’s been closed.

“Hey.“ She mumbles, her face hidden in his hoodie due to the height difference.

“H-hey.“ He replies, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her too.

“I was right.“ She says once she pulls away, “You are much cooler face-to-face.“ She pauses for a second, narrowing her eyes, “You’d be even cooler if you bought me coffee though.“

Earning a laugh from him, she’s guided into the café by the arm Corpse wraps around her shoulders, telling her he’s get her a milkshake cause he doesn’t want to see her high on caffeine. Needless to say, they both are, indeed, much cooler to one another IRL.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari  @renupf  @booklover76  @sra-verissimo  @beatrhizn  @blueberrystigma  @beatrhizn

[alonfic]

second nature

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x reader genre: college + bff to lovers au | fluff, pining pining pining wc: 4,767 description: love is complicated; it tends to bloom in desire, in impulse. sometimes you just need to stop the overthinking and just do. in other words, you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend and decide to take matters into your own hands. author’s note: completely self-indulgent. i just wanted a scene where mc jumps into kuroo’s arms and kisses him after a win. sue me.

People do stupid things when they’re in love. You don’t know who said it, if this is some universal conclusion, or maybe Hercules’s Megara is a love genius who you should take notes from. Then again, she did twice, and was saved by her destined lover the second time around. You aren’t all that sure this is a fate prescribed to you by the stars nor is it one that you want for yourself, but it makes you wonder if your love life would be easier if it could have that Disney-esque theatrics just for a happy ending.

Then again, you don’t think Disney has any love stories about best friends turning into lovers, just strangers to lovers. But how do you fall in love with someone you haven’t spent years together cultivating memories with? How do you not look back and smile at the stories of chasing fireflies in the summertime or running from the ocean’s kiss because it’s just a tad too cold even in the late spring? Could it be possible to imagine a love built out of the blue?

Perhaps that part of unexpectedness could be the suspect. Being around him is comfortable; easy as breathing. He’s always been there, always a faint image in the back of your mind as you walk down memory lane, and still there as you walk down this strange path of adulthood. He’s never one to push too hard or let you fall without reaching a hand out to hold you steady.

In truth, you don’t think about loving your best friend. At least you try not to at first. It isn’t something you’re supposed to do or anything that could proceed painlessly, and you’re no masochist. Maybe you are. Wouldn’t you have extracted yourself from the situation sooner if you weren’t?

Then again, you didn’t choose to love him one morning, it just happened.

/

You consider ignoring Kuroo when it happens. Or if there’s any chance of going back.

It isn’t anything against him because you obviously wouldn’t feel the way that you do if you considered him a shitty person. But that’s the problem. Well, not the problem, more like the reason. The heart of your pining has always been a consistent figure. A loving one that has always had your back even when you both were kids; him the notoriously shy boy who clung to his father’s leg when you and your mother first stopped by, and you the painfully hard-headed one who lacked control when you came bounding up to him with the intent of friendship.

Funny how things seem to take on a reverse effect as he approaches you in the same confidence. His smile unaltered by the slight changes in you, how you tense up ever-so-slightly and squeak affirmations when he mentions going out later that night as a treat for surviving midterms. It shouldn’t mean anything more, really, these are normal interactions for you both. The small celebrations are your favorite things to do, so you hope it doesn’t feel weird when you say yes and he looks at you like he’s over the moon kind of happy.

You don’t say a word when his hand is on the small of your back in the slightly crowded ramen shop. It’s been a longtime favorite of your and his, and surviving the quarter is a celebration in and of itself. Everything is normal. These things, like guiding you to a table, are normal. Your hyperfixations on them are hardly normal though.

Was he always this touchy? Of course, you ponder this. It’s your brain wondering and hoping to figure out what the motivations of these actions are even if he’s done them before. He’s always been keen on physical touch with you. Ever the one to wrap an arm around your shoulders while you two walk around shopping centers or the park to keep potential intruders away and to keep you from getting swept up in the crowds. Sometimes holding your hand when things get tense and he wants you to know he’s there. They’re normal for him by all accounts, and there hasn’t been a time where any of that has felt out of place, at least until now. And it isn’t because of him, it’s you.

If you had an allowance to dream and believe in your idealistic side, this would be a new beginning and his way of easing you into intimate gestures. You don’t though. Your realistic side won’t let you. He just doesn’t make it very easy on you as he sits in front of you under very grainy incandescent lighting—the very non-ideal kind to consider one’s love for somebody—and still manages to get you feel the same things you had when you awoke to him cooking breakfast in your kitchen after a late night study session. The very stupid morning that brought you to this conclusion.

When he says your name, you realize the server is there. You’re naturally a little embarrassed because you haven’t even had a chance to glance at the menu, still a little more spaced out than usual, though it shouldn’t be that big of a problem. You already know what you want, and so does Kuroo. 

He jumps in and asks if you want your usual choice, to which you simply nod so he can tell the server who leaves just as quickly as they had come. Kuroo looks like he wants to say something, probably ask about what’s going on with you, but instead something else catches his eye.

He leans over the table and his fingertips find some stray locks of yours dangerously trying to kiss the corner of your lip. His fingertips graze your cheek rather slowly. Painfully slow, even. It doesn’t help the sweat on your palms or the pounding of your chest. Hell, your heart feels like it might fall out if he continues going at such a snail’s pace, but eventually he gets the strands behind your ear.

He smiles at you again, and this time you know it’s all over.

There is no going back.

/

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

You almost deny it altogether, almost. But this is Kuroo. You know better than to try and lie to the boy you’ve known since middle school, the same boy who knows when something’s wrong before you even have a chance to register that something’s wrong. It sometimes makes you want to curse at him and wish this whole thing would just come to a halt instead of continuing on this weird precipice of change. But you stop yourself and step aside so he can enter your apartment, making his way through the long hallway and turning right to take a perch on the barstool at your kitchen isle.

He’s right anyway. It’s been days since you realized your feelings and even more since you two went out to get ramen together. But you’d be damned to admit the truth.

“Been busy.” You settle on this because it’s a safe answer, at least relatively so, though he hardly looks even the slightest bit convinced. The fact that you lean on the opposite side of the granite countertop is enough to solidify his doubt, but you decide to play the fool anyway. “What?”

“Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?” Kuroo asks this genuinely, and you can tell most definitively by the slight crease in his brow and the small line his lips have become. It isn’t a frown by any means, it’s his pensive expression. He must be trying to think back on anything he’s either said or done in the past couple of weeks, but you know he wouldn’t be able to guess it.

Not that “it” is all that major. How do you even describe the sensation of falling in love with your best friend? How do you even dare face them after you’ve done it? And where do you even go from there when it’s happened? These are the things you’ve mulled over; they’re also the things that have stopped you from immediately treating your friendship with Kuroo like business as usual. You don’t think there’s any going back once you say something. No matter the times you’ve imagined what could happen or what it would be like to cross that bridge, a bit of reality grounds you from all impulsive acts.

Of course, you would love to just kiss him and run your hands through his beautifully soft sable hair. You wouldn’t hesitate to finally tell him your feelings if you didn’t think there was anything to lose or if you weren’t in the right state of mind, at least there’s the cushion of not caring and simple selfishness in all of that. It takes a lot to shake it all out of your head, at least to just try to, as he watches you in that unnervingly analytical way.

“Are you sure I haven’t done anything?” You can tell he’s trying to probe now, perhaps hoping for an opening to atone for any misgiving he might’ve done without realizing. His voice is soft, comforting. “If I did, I really am sorry.”

You shake your head again, this time for him and his question. You’re starting to feel a little bad for keeping this from him. “You haven’t done anything, I promise. I’ve just been preoccupied with some things. It’s getting better, so really, no need to worry.”

You hope the half-truths are enough to keep his interrogative questions and inquisitorial stare at bay. At least enough to change the subject, he’s the one who called about coming here, after all.

“If you’re sure?” He tries once more, just to give you an out. It isn’t like you to keep anything from him, and he knows this, but you can’t help but want to keep this one thing under lock-and-key. At least for now, or forever.

You nod. “What’s up anyway?”

“Well, I’ve been missing my best friend like crazy since someone’s been ghosting me for the past two weeks.”

The emphasis on ‘someone’ makes you snort, just a little and only for a moment because he shoots you a playful glare. You hold your hands up in surrender in hopes of spurring the conversation forward. Just because you wanted to avoid him to keep the truth under wraps doesn’t mean you haven’t missed the cheeky bastard.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, with a faint smile. “Has it been that hard without me?”

“The hardest! Kenma’s sick of me, you know. Him, I’m used to wanting to keep me away. But you? That’s a different playing field.” It’s all in a playful jest, of course, and whatever the case may be for you, you know that Kuroo doesn’t mind. He knows it would be for a good reason, even if you don’t think this is all that good of a reason to try and push him away. It’s a hard thing to do when it’s clear that he has no intentions of being set aside, and how can you, given the history here?

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, o’dramatic one?” Of course, you’ll play it off, just to see the toothy grin on his lips, and watch the light dance in the hickory of his eyes as he considers his next quip. You wonder if he’ll have you do something stupid just to make up for the sudden separation, although you’re grateful that he’s a more benevolent schemer where you’re concerned. You expect him to charge you a free coffee or something.

“Come to my game on Saturday, please,” Kuroo coughs the last word, as if it might be painful for him to say, or maybe he’s trying to play off sounding forceful, which has never been his forte.

You can’t help but smile albeit confused at the sudden news when it feels like it’s been ages since his last high school game. “A game? With who?”

“It’s just a reunion game against Karasuno, since it’s a rare occasion where we all happen to be free at the same time, and you know us. We’re always hankering for another Battle at the Garbage Dump.”

Before you can say anything, he adds, “If you love me, you’ll come!”

You probably miss the way he looks at you a little more longingly than he once did, as if there’s something he means in these cheeky words. They should mean nothing more than provocations, a mild itch of guilt tripping, but only in good nature. It couldn’t possibly mean anything in the way that you’re hoping. No, not at all.

You know he only means it all in a lighthearted way, but you can’t deny the way your heart seems to rumble with a very distinct sound of early springtime thunder and you feel the back of your throat go dry. Of course, you can’t deny this truth, not even when it’s disguised like this. And anyway, who would you be if you missed out on one of his games?

Of course, you’ll go. 

/

When Kozume calls you over, you already know it’s a mistake to oblige.

The moment you get there, he’s playing a game though he pays a little more attention to you when he sees how much you tense up at the sound of Kuroo’s name. It’s enough for the conversation to completely focus on the former Nekoma captain, and you’re almost certain you want to go home already. If anything, you might be able to cite that you had some homework you need to sort out before the big game.

“You shouldn’t keep lying to yourself. Plus, I know you finished all your homework so you wouldn’t be distracted for the game,” Kozume points out, shooting you a brief pointed look. “You’ve been avoiding me too, you know.” 

And this is why: visiting Kozume means speculations, and speculations means hopes, and those mean disappointments because reality is just that cruel. You tell him so in your apology, even when he pointedly ignores the question and instead asks you one.

“When do you think you’ll tell him?”

You look at him incredulously. “Why would I do that?”

The sheer idea is preposterous; confessing to Kuroo might invite trouble for the two of you and the state of your friendship. Sure, you tried ignoring him and seeing if that could help, but that was a bust. Telling him would probably be even worse. Probably the worst thing you could do in this situation. Is it even possible to be okay after confessing to your best friend?

“You’re both idiots who deserve to be together. Why else would I ask?”

He isn’t even looking at you as he says any of this, instead focusing his attention on the characters in his game. His own little fantasy. A part of you is envious of the escapism, wishing for a bit of that for yourself at the moment. At least you can forge a love story from camaraderie there, and in a game world like that, it’s acceptable. Loving your best friend in the modern reality? Not so much.

You’re a little confused at Kozume’s wording. What was he trying to say? Kuroo liked you back? The thought makes you shake your head.

“Easier for you to say,” you roll your eyes at him, certain he hasn’t seen it, but he clicks his tongue at you anyway.

“If you did something, or let yourself do something, life would be so much easier for the both of you.”

“You say this with the assumption that he feels something too,” you point out, still in disbelief. After all, why would Kuroo love you back as more than a friend?

“Why do you even love him anyway?”

You can’t help but reply so nonchalantly when it’s the first thing that comes to mind. “Why not?”

There are many answers to that question, probably more than you care to admit, let alone to Kozume. Even without meeting his eyes or saying a word about any of it, he seems to know already. It’s unnerving. Have you always been this easy to read? Does Kuroo know too?

“Why don’t you just tell him?”

“It’d make things too complicated.”

In other words: it’s easier to tell the truth when you’re not speaking to Kuroo about the whole thing. Hell, it’s easier to address it when it isn’t directly to him. It happened, and obviously there’s no way to strip the power from it now.

“Is that what’s really stopping you?”

You take a moment to consider this, and maybe the large part is the fear of consequence, if there will be one, what it will be, that sort of thing.

“Yeah…”

“Then stop thinking and just do something about it. I’ve never known you to take things lying down. Talk to him after the game or something.”

You don’t say anything, but you consider it.

/

The day of the game is supposed to be simple. It isn’t like it’s supposed to bloom into anything, and yet you find yourself thrumming with excitement when Kuroo easily finds you in the crowd before he’s set to enter the gym.

You don’t care to admit how much you enjoy this or the sight of seeing him in that vibrant shade of red. The same way you’ve seen him in countless games. It stirs something in your chest as you’re reminded of those days, like this revelation of your feelings might have bloomed sooner than you realized.

“Come find me after the game,” Kuroo tells you with that beautifully toothy grin of his, and you find that you can hardly breathe. “I have something to tell you when I win.”

When did he get so damn good looking? You want to wonder, though that would only be one of many ponderings. You don’t know what his words mean, or why the implication makes your heart react the way it does, but you hope against your own ideals just to remain in reality. At least you try to.

It’s hard once the game begins.

/

Watching him play feels like falling in love again.

You don’t know what it is in the way Kuroo carries himself or how he seems to dance across the court with a hitch in any of his movements, but it’s addictive to watch. How easily he remains himself even on the court. The very cheeky grin flashes at his opponents, particularly Tsukishima, who looks more and more fired up as they contain their rally. They don’t look much different than when they first played against one another in high school, though they all seem to carry a newfound sense of wisdom in this game they’ve been destined to play time and time again.

Each rally feels like it goes on for longer than the last, as if everything will be gone in a single drop, and perhaps it’s true to say that this mirrors that of love. How you may try as you might to keep the secret of loving away from reality, but it all comes crashing down eventually. It feels that way when you see the final round reach a neck and neck standstill. Neither side wants the ball to drop, to allot victory to their opponent, of course.

It’s Kuroo’s determination that stands out to you. The way he seems to cheer his team on even without words as he tries his best to keep the orange, green, and white ball in play. He’s never been one to give up no matter the circumstances. He’s always found a way to move things in his favor, and he’s never once wavered, even in the beginning of his time with volleyball, he’s always tried, even with losses under his belt.

It’s strangely beautiful to bear witness to this play once more. You don’t know what it is when he looks back at you before his notoriously accurate block with a small, yet triumphant smile, like he knows this’ll win the game, or even so, bring them closer to it, but it rouses something even stranger in your chest as you cheer alongside everyone else in celebration of the first point of two needed to finally win the game. This is by no means a big game like the Inter-high or anything, but it feels that way. Maybe that’s why everything seems to stand out to you. It feels like something big might happen.

Simple as this game might be, it feels like everything when they reach the end of the rally.

They win, and you rise from your seat without a second thought. 

/

You don’t think about what you’re doing.

Your limbs seem to move on their own accord as the rest of the team does a final bow to the audience. You don’t bother stopping to wonder if Kuroo’s searching the crowd for you as you make your way down the stairs, or what the little frown on his face means when his gaze lingers on the spot right behind the banner as soon as you reach the hallway across from the court. Your spot.

No, you don’t stop to think about it.

You don’t even stop moving as you call his name or as you see the light come back to his beautiful hickory eyes. You don’t stop to consider what that might mean either.

Instead you run to him at full speed without bumping into anyone, truly a miracle in and of itself, and instead of stopping right before him with your feet planted firmly on the ground like any other person, you choose to jump. You don’t know why. You don’t think about why either. You just believe that he won’t drop you because he’s never given you a reason to believe otherwise. In fact, you absolutely trust him to catch you now more than ever, and to no one’s surprise, he does.

There are so many things you want to do—reasonable things that any normal best friend supporting their best friend would do. You want to say congratulations. You want to just hug him and jump down because you want to believe that this will be like any other hug you’ve shared with this man you’ve known for years. And maybe it could’ve been that simple if you had just stopped to consider what your actions would mean to him, you, and everyone else. But you don’t bother with the frivolities, you don’t want to yet.

Because when you really look at Kuroo, you catch sight of something beautiful. A sight all too familiar to you and the years of memories you’ve shared together. It’s him in his most purest form; little drops of sweat falling at the sides of his face, an elated grin in all its toothy glory, and the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes becoming more and more prominent. And yet, there’s something a little too new in the way that he looks back at you, the way his gaze lingers on your lips and only snaps back up to your eyes when you say his name. 

Your grip around his shoulders tightens and his lips fall a little closer together like he might say something, but you don’t give him a chance. It’s hard when you find yourself on a roll of impulses, like you’re untouchable from consequence.

Maybe you’ve watched too many romance movies, or maybe read too many stories where the best friends finally get together after years of pining and being called idiots by everyone around them. You know it’s all too silly, and you and Kuroo have spent evenings mocking the theatrics of boombox accompanied confessions and singing over the loudspeakers with the marching band as the main male lead’s instrumental track. They’re endearing in the moment, but so painfully unreal, you almost wish this world was entirely fantasy for just a taste of what could be with Kuroo. That’s the true villain, maybe. You can’t stop yourself now.

Everything everyone has ever speculated about you two flies over your head, and for once in a great while, you stop caring enough to just do what you’ve always wanted to do, to finally actualize the fantasies you’ve played out over and over in your head.

Fuck it, you decide. If there’s any time to do this, it’s now. The extra shit can wait.

So, before any words, you kiss him.

You take note of the way he responds so gently to the initiation. It’s a tentative pressure, as if he’s testing the waters to see what you can handle before you pull away. But you don’t. You remain, and maybe part of that has to do with the adrenaline coursing through your veins or maybe it’s the part of you that seeks this wish fulfillment and wants to bask in it before reality sinks it.

The whole thing is indescribable. Of course, it is. All of your fantasies have never gotten you as far as the real deal. You wouldn’t have guessed just how close to peppermint he would taste, or that there would be a slight hint of honeyed lemons in the aftertaste. Like the treat promises, you feel invigorated, rejuvenated, and maybe even worst of all, hungry for a little more.

This is why you readjust your grip around his shoulders as you attempt to deepen the kiss. In response, his grip on your thighs tighten, as if he might be afraid you’ll disappear. And to your surprise, he kisses you back with just as much fervor, like it might be the last time.

You don’t remember what draws you apart, whether it’s one of his teammates jeering at you two or if it’s your respective needs to breathe, but you’re inclined to etch this new sight of him to memory. The way his chest heaves, his pupils dilated, and his lips all pink and swollen. It’s new and beautiful, and you wonder if it’ll happen again.

And then it hits you.

What you’ve done. Your head spins just a little.

“I’ve fucked us up, haven’t I?” Your words are no louder than a whisper, but it feels like it’s only you two right now. Nothing else to cut into this moment, though you almost sort of wish for an opportunity to sink into the ground because what the fuck did you just do?

All you can do is try to shake yourself away from him, back down to the ground, back to reality.

Kuroo keeps you in place and takes the chance to really look at you. His eyes scan your face for a trace of truth, not that this would be a hard feat anyway. You’ve never been good at hiding anything from him, not when you were kids, and most certainly not now. You wonder if he can read, “I’m totally and utterly in love with you” from your eyes or if it somehow materialized across your forehead like Kozume and Nobuyuki have always teased you.

“That’s not entirely fair,” he says, still faint with his usual teasing.

“Huh?” Your eyebrows knit together, and your lips seem to pull into an involuntary frown.

“That implies that you were the only one who compromised our friendship…” he pauses for a second as his bottom lip trembles and he gives an inaudible swallow, “right?”

“What are you getting at?” Simply the implication is enough to bring lightning to your skin, as if to resuscitate you back to a more serene state. Your heart can’t seem to handle this overload, however. You wonder if he can hear it.

“I think you know what I’m getting at...”

His cheeks have gone pinker than the cherry blossoms in spring. Of course, it should’ve been enough to confirm your suspicions. You could’ve left it at that, but for your sake, for your very own heart, you tell him what you need.

“Say it.”

One more look at you and it’s enough for him. Somehow you know that without being told.

“I love you.”

Your heart trembles, even louder now, like a thunderstorm. That strange calmness remains. The kind only he can elicit in you.

Kuroo looks at you in wait, in wonder, as if your answer wasn’t as clear as day already. You laugh a little and the corners of his lips turn upward.

“I love you too.”

He lets you drop down, of course, but only after another kiss.

You hold his hand and walk through the double doors you entered through.

This time together.

[ahtsumu]

the mystery of love ; kuroo tetsurou

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

synopsis: kuroo tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. he believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. but that doesn’t mean he can’t believe in love.

tag(s): sweet summer lovin’, friends to lovers, inspired by call my by your name, university student!kuroo tetsurou, lab intern!kuroo tetsurou, so much pining lol, fluff, angst, slow burn ; warning(s): profanity, mentions of alcohol ingestion (it’s legal bc they’re in italy!), suggestive themes ; wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy birthday tetsu!! i hope you guys like this. i really enjoyed writing it ♡

Kuroo Tetsurou does not believe in soulmates. He believes in science, himself, and sometimes other people. At least, that’s what he tells you. Sometimes you treat this information as a source of hope; other times, you’re not sure what to make of it.

This, you realise with his shoulder pressed against yours and both your bodies sprawled across his wrinkled bed sheets, is one of those other times. You turn your face to look at his.

“What?” he asks, one side of his mouth curling up in a smile.

For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you just said it. You could blame the alcohol. Get away with it scot-free. While you mull the option over in the dead silence of his room, your brain suddenly registers the music still playing from the living room. The low bass reverberating through the walls. How close your lips are. The sound of his breaths.

“Earth to Y/N?”

And like that, the little what-if that rose in your mind falls back with its tail between its legs. You bite your lip, look around his room like the walls have a script printed on them. Unfortunately, they do not.

“I was just thinking about my shirt.” It’s not great, but it’s the best you can do while still feeling the vodka and orange juice burn in your stomach. And smelling it on yourself.

Kuroo’s laugh booms through the room and you can’t help but giggle along with him. “I said I was sorry!” he says, hazel eyes twinkling with mirth. He pauses and glances at his closet, then nods his head in its direction. “Take a hoodie. Your pick.”

A smile–– one you try to downplay but fail miserably to–– creeps up your face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo replies. “You can also shower here if you want. It's the least I can do after spilling my drink all over you.”

When you emerge from Kuroo’s bathroom in one of his thinner hoodies, a lot soberer and drying your hair, he’s not on the bed anymore. Quietly, you step out of his room and look for him through the house. People are crashed everywhere–– on the sofa, over the kitchen counter, even propped up against walls. The floor is covered with plastic cups and mysterious pools of liquid. Wrinkling your nose, you try your best to step around the messes, looking in every corner in the house for the raven-haired boy.

You find him back in his room, actually. He’s back on his bed scrolling through his phone, the light illuminating his sharp features. When he hears you close the door behind you, he looks up, eyes immediately zeroing in on the black hoodie over your torso. The corner of his mouth twitches up.

“Where’d you go?” you both ask at the same time. He chuckles; you grin. Crawling back onto the bed, you tell him to go first.

“I went around to make sure nothing’s broken,” he explains. “Perks of being the only sober intern in the house, I guess.”

A beat passes.

This house is rented. You forgot about that. All his expenses are paid for by your mother’s lab. You forgot about that. He fits in your world so well, like maybe he’s always had a spot there, that you forgot that Kuroo Tetsurou is only here for the summer.

“Right.”

Kuroo raises a brow. “And you?”

“I went to look for you.”

He smiles and holds his hands out like a magician at the end of a trick. “Well, you found me.”

“Yeah,” you muse. “I guess I did.” Aren’t you lucky.

With that, something shifts in the air. A contemplative expression crosses Kuroo’s face. Maybe he’s realised how his words come out sometimes. Kuroo often says things that sound like they have more than one meaning and it used to throw you off, but now you just go with it. You’ve even picked up that habit yourself. “Do you ever wish that you’d met someone earlier? Maybe under different circumstances?” he asks.

Sighing, you fall back against his mattress and stare up at the ceiling. Telling the truth feels easier when you can’t see him. “Yeah. All the time.” A few seconds pass. “Do you think we would’ve been friends if we went to the same college?”

He also lies down. You’re both back in the same positions you were in an hour ago, but something’s changed. “No,” he admits. You’re not surprised–– that’s what you’d expected. “I’d be a junior and you’d be a freshman. We probably would’ve never met. And even if we had, I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging out with a… freshie.” He chuckles softly at the end. “And look at me now,” he adds softly, more to himself than you. You look over at his face. A contemplative smile rests on his lips.

That urge to just say it returns.

“Kuroo, I think––”

“You’re my favourite p–– oh, my bad. You first.”

And it goes away again.

“Um, uh,” you stutter, “how long do you have left here?”

Kuroo raises his brows. “On this planet? Hopefully a while, Y/N.” He sees your unamused expression and drops the front. “Three more weeks.”

Your eyes widen. Eight weeks have already passed. Blood rushes to your ears. Eight entire weeks have already passed, meaning that in three weeks, Kuroo Tetsurou will leave forever. And in four, you will, too. Except you’ll come back. You’ve done so every summer since you were born, probably will do until you die.

But this place will never be the same as it used to. Not after him.

“Y/N?” Once everything comes back into focus, you see the concern riddling his features. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah.”

Say it.

“You didn’t have too much to drink, right?”

Say it.

“I just got buzzed. What about you?”

“The only drink I was planning on having all went to your shirt.”

Say it.

“Kuroo.”

“Yeah?”

Not yet.

“Let’s go on an adventure.”

At two AM, everything is different. The streets feel different, the villas look different, and you–– you can’t put your finger on it but Kuroo Tetsurou has changed, too. He sits behind the wheel of your father’s white 1953 Cadillac with the convertible roof down, unruly hair blown back by the breeze, a euphoric grin stretched over his face. In the passenger’s seat, you sit with an equally large beam and your hands raised into the dark sky.

“Where to, Miss?” he shouts over the wind.

“The stars,” you shout back with a laugh. Kuroo’s cat-like eyes briefly flit over to your side profile, lips curving to form a smaller, more tender smile. But you miss that–– your gaze falls on him just a second after his return to the road.

“I heard you say Jack’s,” he says, smirking.

The 24/7 diner sticks out like a sore thumb in the row of sun-baked stucco and stone buildings with its bold neon lights and shiny exterior. During the day, it seems gaudy, way too American for a small town in northern Italy. But at night, this place feels like home. You’ve been stumbling into Jack’s completely shit-faced since you were sixteen. Of course, all those other times had been with the kids of your mother’s coworkers. All those other times, you could hardly remember what you even ordered when you woke up hours later.

But this time, you walk in with Kuroo Tetsurou at half-past-two in the morning, the chemicals running through your bloodstream epinephrine and dopamine, not ethanol; if you’re drunk then it’s on a feeling and your only poison is the boy next to you. You study his face and consider that thought. No, he’s not poison. He’s the antidote.

“Y/N!” the server exclaims, rushing over with two menus. “And Kuroo! My two favourite customers, but together this time!” Giovanni ushers you two to a booth by the window and takes your orders, purely for show, of course. He knows your orders by heart: the Lorenzo for Kuroo and the Quentin for you.

“With fries on both, please,” Kuroo adds, throwing you a wink. “Aren’t I a gentleman?”

“You only did that to have more for yourself,” you reply drily. Having him over at your house for dinner every night made picking up his idiosyncrasies so unbelievably easy. You know them like they’re your own. You know him like he’s your own.

Kuroo clutches his chest and pretends to be offended, then changes the conversation to what happened at the lab today, or rather, yesterday. That your mother and the other researchers are so close to finding a cure for the strain of virus that’s recently hit crickets in southern Italy.

“You should drop by again sometime,” he says. “Last time you came around was, what, two weeks ago?”

Your face breaks in a grin. “Are you saying you’ve missed me? Chemistry getting boring?” you tease, drawing a loud laugh from him.

“Sodium hydrogen, you little shit.” Your mother’s used this one on you before, but hearing it from him makes you giggle anyway.

Giovanni comes back with two plates, each loaded with fries. You both say your thanks and he retreats to the kitchen again, but not before wiggling his eyebrows at your reddening faces. Wordlessly, you grab your fork and knife and transfer at least half of your fries onto Kuroo’s plate. Kuroo stares at you with the slightest smile. That look sends your stomach into flips.

“What?” you question nonchalantly, cutting into your burger.

“Nothing,” he says, mirroring your actions. “Nothing at all.”

It’s hard to imagine that after spending almost every day together for eight weeks straight that there’s still more to learn about each other, but there is. You tell him more about your real home. Your best friend who called you at 3 AM last night because of timezones. Stories from every summer before this one, when you were a different person in the same place you are now.

He tells you more about Kenma, his best friend from high school. How they played on one of the best volleyball teams in Japan. Stories from training camp, literature class, the metro ride home after school–– you listen to every single one in rapt attention. There’s not enough time in the world for all the things you want to know about Kuroo Tetsurou, so you take what you can get. If only you’d known him before you’d known him.

“If we’d met earlier here, do you think we would’ve been friends?” you ask after paging Giovanni for the check.

“No,” he replies, picking up a few remaining fries with his fork instead of his fingers. The corners of your mouth turn up. That’s your thing. He considers the scenario seriously. “I think we met right when we should have.”

“What about the future?” you press, leaning into the conversation. “Let’s say we meet in two years here, instead of now. Would we be friends?”

Kuroo sets his fork down, eyes you steadily. “What’s this about?”

You blink. “What?”

“What’s with all these hypotheticals today?” Perhaps worried that he came off too harshly, Kuroo adds, “I thought I was the scientist.”

“I just… it feels like I’ve known you since forever.” This feels like it was meant to be, you don’t say. And I want to know you forever.

A sigh–– fond, but still a sigh–– blows through his lips. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates,” he says with a wicked grin.

“Are you calling me your soulmate?” The question, shamelessly genuine, painfully hopeful, leaves your mouth without you intending it to and you regret it instantly. Because Kuroo Tetsurou has told you many times that he does not believe in soulmates.

Is it so bad to dream, though?

You watch him carefully but he doesn’t say anything, just continues smiling wryly like you’d intended to tease him. Like he knows that you know better. But you don’t.

“Are you?” he suddenly replies. Sharp eyes hold yours, daring you to respond. Do you dare?

At that moment, Giovanni returns with the check. “Who’s paying?” he asks, unaware of the tense exchange that just occurred across the table. Inaudibly, you sigh in relief. Kuroo is about to say that it’s on him when he catches himself in the middle of his sentence, looks your way, then back to Giovanni. He says you’ll go Dutch. You nod in approval.

“So,” Kuroo drawls once you’ve both paid for your meals. “Where do we go from here?”

Good question.

Kuroo Tetsurou has never been to an outdoor club period. And though he’s been clubbing, he has never once gone dancing in his lifetime. You tell him that’s about to change as he parks the car in a lot near the venue. Before him, all your summer nights were spent here.

“You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t been to an outdoor club yet?” you ask while unbuckling your seatbelt. That can’t be possible. If you’d been in his shoes… an attractive college student in a foreign country for the summer, you would have gone wild.

“Nope. I’ve been a little busy, y’know, spending my days in a lab, handling chemicals, studying viruses, washing lab equipment, writing up reports for your mother and her colleagues, working on my own research on the side… the usual.” He flashes you a bright, sarcastic smile.

“Poor baby,” you coo, ruffling his hair. Kuroo laughs while you continue messing with the dark locks. “Was your first full day here the only tourist-day you’ve had so far?” His weekends, you already know, are spent either lounging around cafés, pools, or the great outdoors with you or the interns. But you’d assumed he’d had time to do some exploring on his own.

Kuroo nods. “And my guide wasn’t even that great,” he mutters, shooting you a dark look. “She sped through every attraction and hardly spoke a word outside of the tour to me. I think she hated me.”

You giggle and open the door, letting the music from the outdoor speakers infiltrate the bubble inside your car. “Maybe she was just nervous!” you say as you get out. That’s a lie.

“About what?” Kuroo follows suit, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “I was so friendly to you and you just brushed me off each time.” He pouts.

But you don’t reply. Instead, you just grab his hands and pull him towards the venue. As you step into the boundaries marked by fairy lights and rustic wooden fences, Kuroo stops in his tracks and tugs on your intertwined hands. You glance down before up, trying to memorise how his hand looks around yours in the few seconds you can steal.

“Y/N,” Kuroo says. The strobe lights paint his skin pink, blue, purple like it’s a canvas. “Tell me why you were nervous.” Grammatically, it’s a command. And yet it sounds like he’s begging.

“What’s it mean to you?” you ask, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest. So what if you just… said it? What would happen?

“Everything?” he replies with a cheeky smile. The odds that he seriously means that are slim. But… they’re there. You shake that possibility out of your mind. That’s just the hope talking.

“Depends how convincingly you say it.” You tug on his arm. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” But he doesn’t budge–– he just continues to stand by the entrance of the club with an expectant look on his face. People are starting to stare.

“Fine,” you say with an eye roll. “I’ll tell you." Kuroo smirks, something self-congratulatory ready to leave his mouth, but then you let go of his hand and dance backwards into the throng of moving bodies. “But first, you’re gonna have to dance with me!” 

You allow yourself to be swallowed by the lively music, the people, the moment. Seconds later you’re deep enough into the crowd that you lose sight of Kuroo. Something in you says that he’ll show up soon, though. For now, you let yourself breathe. Forget about the heaviness of what-if’s, the itch to confess, the dread of the aftermath. Feelings are a lot like gravity. Sometimes they keep you grounded, other times, they weigh you down. This is one of those other times.

You dance up to a friendly-looking group of teens your age. Three guys and two girls. You shout your name and follow up with how it’s nice to meet them, hoping one of them finds you nice enough to keep around. Dancing alone in a club is one of the worst things that can ever happen to someone. Luckily, one of the girls–– the one wearing a purple wig–– pulls you in for a hug, drunkenly shouting back, “Bianca!” Bianca pushes you into their circle next to one of the guys and, just like that, you two start moving to the beat, feeling it in your feet, shoulders, hips. At one point, you turn around and take a good look at his face. The guy’s cute enough, but he’s not Kuroo. Still, you say nothing as he moves closer to you and grabs your hand, lifting it up and motioning for you to twirl.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grip firmly onto your waist and pull you out of the circle. “Hey!” You look down, suddenly realising they’re Kuroo’s. A shiver runs down your spine. He spins you around to face him. His lips are set in a firm line, eyes completely devoid of humour, nostrils slightly flared.

“Hi,” you say quietly, testing the waters.

“Hi,” he replies curtly. His hands are still on your waist. Selfishly, you choose not to point that out. Instead, you try to defuse the situation with a light question. Playful tone.

“Where were you this whole time?”

“Looking for you.”

“Well… you found me.” You flash him a sheepish grin. A peace offering of some sort.

“I did.” He doesn’t take it.

“Lucky you.”

Irritation finally seeps through his features. “You just left me on the dance floor!” he snaps. “And then when I find you after searching the entire venue, you’re dancing up on some random guy!”

“It was in good fun!” you retort, wriggling out of his grip. “And I wasn’t dancing up on him.” You want to ask if he’s jealous so badly, but you take a good look at his face and decide against that.

“Fun?” he asks incredulously. “Worrying about losing you, worrying about myself getting lost, then having to worry about that guy after finding you isn’t very fucking fun to me, Y/N!” The words fly out of his mouth like daggers without pause. Once finished, he looks at you with a disappointed gaze, shaking his head lightly, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking down at your shoes. It doesn’t matter if you disagree with him–– a sort of shame drills itself so deeply into your conscience that all you can think about is making things right again. “I didn’t think my actions through.”

A second passes. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“Hey, look at me.” Kuroo lifts your chin up with an index finger. Your wide eyes meet his narrow ones. Just as a pink beam glides over his face, his gaze softens, falls down to your lips. And then you feel his thumb on your chin, barely grazing the skin of your bottom lip. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The revelry in the background fades to dull beats against your eardrums. Suddenly, you register that he smells of, as usual, blackcurrant and amber.

But now you also smell of blackcurrant and amber.

You’re wearing his clothes. You smell of him.

Kuroo’s eyes crawl back up to yours, wide like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. You blink expectantly, ignoring the furious way your heart pounds in your chest. Shallow breaths puff through your slightly parted mouth.

“I am.” It comes out barely a whisper. C’mon. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me––

You gently touch the hand he has on your chin. Kuroo jolts back like he’s been burned. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll be in the car,” he stutters, looking away from your face. He pushes through the sea of people, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, body doused in blue light, fingers touching the area his thumb had been as if preserving its print.

Kuroo hardly notices you slip into the passenger’s seat minutes later. He’s got his forearms hanging over the steering wheel and gaze fixed ahead into the darkness, mind probably running off to a place he wishes his body was, too.

As soon as you’ve buckled yourself in, Kuroo starts the car.

The entire drive home is silent.

Once Kuroo pulls into your courtyard and parks, he turns off the engine, unbuckles his seatbelt, and steps out of the car. Wordlessly, you follow his actions and meet him by the stairs to your door.

“Hi,” you say quietly. He doesn’t look at you.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand outside your front door in silence as you both consider what to say next. This can’t be the way it ends.

“I shouldn’t have… done that,” Kuroo says first.

“Done what?” You choose to play dumb. Call it selfish, but you want to hear him say it. Maybe then it’ll feel as real as it had been. Kuroo sighs and leans his shoulder against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. There’s no way he can dance around what happened. Perhaps the past two months can be summed up as the development of a strong friendship with skilled doublespeak and metaphors and just enough artistic licence, but this can’t. And Kuroo knows that. He can’t feed you an alternative truth like he’s done so many times before. What’s more, he can’t lie to himself anymore. So maybe it’s better just to not speak at all.

Your eyes burn holes into the side of his face. Fine. You’ll concede first. “I was never nervous.”

Kuroo blinks, turns his head around to look at you. “What?”

“I was never nervous. I was playing it cool because I didn’t want to risk befriending you and getting attached.” I’m still playing it cool, you don’t say. And I’m already attached. “Guess I just came off as a bitch instead.” You laugh. “But can you blame me? You were this cute, older guy. Smart, too, since you were interning with my mom. You were my dream guy.”

An amused breath blows out of his nose. “Were?” he questions, grinning, only remembering the fragility of your platonic relationship a second later. “Um––”

“Are.” It slips out of your mouth without you realising. Fuck. Kuroo stills. It’s too late to take back your words now, so you might as well just keep going. “You still are my dream guy.”

Seconds pass and neither of you says anything. Sweat gathers in the palms of your hands. You start to feel your heartbeat through your neck. The buzz of the cicadas grows louder. Oppressive. Behind Kuroo, the sky is starting to turn pale blue and pink in the horizon. That means it’s almost sunrise. The night is almost over, and, hopefully, so is this awful conversation.

“And… you don’t feel the same.” Funnily, you feel like you’re lying. You’re telling Kuroo how he feels and you think you’re lying. Does that make sense? None of this night even feels real. God, you hope this has all just been a dream. Mustering a soft smile, you say, “That’s okay. Thank you for the party. And the adventure.” It was fun while it lasted. You feel the house key in your pocket and turn to unlock the door. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us, Kuroo. Can we still be friends?” The words leave your mouth feeling like barbed wire. You know damn well you can’t still be friends.

And suddenly, you feel his calloused hands around your cheeks. Suddenly, his hot breath fans over your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs.

Your eyes close instantly. “Yes, please.”

And suddenly, his soft lips are on yours.

Kuroo breaks the kiss seconds later. “Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours, touching the tips of your noses together. “Y/N, I don’t want to be friends. Fuck.” A dry chuckle leaves his mouth. He pauses to collect his thoughts but decides that that can wait. Instead, he presses another kiss to your lips so fervently that he backs you up against the wall with no space between your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat like this, chest to chest. Kuroo’s hands travel down your waist and rest on your hips. His tongue runs across your tongue, your teeth, the insides of your mouth. You gently suck on it, drawing a satisfied moan from him. When the kiss ends, you see that his lips are red and cheeks are swollen. A warm feeling spreads through your chest. “I thought I could be happy just being friends with you but I can’t. I want you so bad it hurts. Not to mention, when I saw you in my hoodie?” His fingers pinch the material. “I thought God was testing me or some shit.”

“Sure didn’t feel like you wanted me that way,” you retort, still breathless.

“In my defence,” Kuroo says, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, “I was very scared.”

“Of what?”

It looks like he’s about to tell you, but he changes his mind and doesn’t answer. He grabs your hand and pulls you back to the car with a cheeky grin. “I’ll tell you only if you tell me where we can watch the sunrise.”

Kuroo holds your hand, stroking your thumb the entire drive there.

After a short hike, you plop down on the grassy hillside, supporting your body with outstretched arms in the back. Kuroo sits down beside you with one of his hands covering yours, fingers intertwined like a honeysuckle vine around a hazel tree. You tell him that you grew up running along this hill with your parents. It used to be your playground. Maybe, you think, it’s time to make new memories here.

“Beautiful,” Kuroo breathes, a wonderstruck look in his eyes. The sun’s just risen halfway above the pink and blue horizon, the saturated orange casting the entire city below gold. It’s not just the city, though. He’s also gold. He’s just as beautiful. You watch him with a soft smile on your lips, noting how his wide eyes and slack jaw return to normal as he stares off into the distance. After resting your head on his shoulder, you fix your eyes on the sunrise ahead. You wonder what he’s thinking so quietly about.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you finally ask once the sun has finished revealing itself.

Kuroo blinks, returning to reality, but continues to stare straight ahead. “I was just thinking about… soulmates.”

You lift your head off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you believe in soulmates now,” you tease.

“Hmm.” He turns to look at you, the sun turning his hazel eyes the colour of honey. That same wry smirk from Jack’s returns to his face.

“You wanna know why I was so scared?”

“Pray tell.”

“Because I’ve never felt this way towards anyone.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“No,” Kuroo laughs, laying his head down in your lap, looking up into your eyes. “I’m serious. I used to purposely stay away from girls in high school. Same in college. Same all the way until you somehow wormed your way into my life. That’s why we wouldn’t have been friends.” You cock your head to the side.

“Why?” you ask, running your fingers through his hair.

Kuroo’s eyelids flutter shut. He inhales deeply before talking. “My parents are divorced. The years before the divorce were… very ugly.” 

(He spares you the details of the midnight arguments, the smashed plates, the holes in the walls. He spares you the details of how he only ever knew how to fall asleep with his head sandwiched between two pillows, how he hasn’t seen his sister in a decade, how he’ll curse and snap but never yell because he always feels like a child again around the noise. That’s for another time, if you’ll have any.) 

“I still remember all the fighting and yelling. For the longest time, that’s all I knew about marriage and relationships.”

“Did you think all relationships were like that? Fighting and yelling?” you ask.

“For a while, yeah. I’m still a little scared of that, to be honest. Ending up in a relationship where all you do is fight.” Kuroo sighs. “But that’s not the only thing. I thought I wouldn’t know how to love someone, growing up like that.” At that, your fingers pause in his hair.

“Wait,” you say, furrowing your brows. A wave of immense sadness (not for yourself, for him) washes over you. “You think you wouldn’t know how to love someone else?”

“Thought.” Kuroo cracks open his eyes and smiles up at you. “I’m in the process of changing my mind.”

[chainhead]

ink

leon has tattoos. ethan was never informed.

leon/ethan. mild swearing. smug leon, done-with-life ethan. fluffy!

It's fine. It's fine. This is totally fine.

Is it weird? Is he weird? God, he must be weird. It's nothing to get this riled up over, yet here he is, peeking over at Leon every now and then to catch a quick glimpse of the ink that spirals up his forearm.

Ethan bites his lip. Twirls the pen in his hand and clicks the button on top a few times, his desk work momentarily forgotten.

No, this isn't normal. Then again, neither is Leon with tattoos, so how is one supposed to think? React? He's been pretty good about hiding his (admittedly disturbing) attraction to the special agent; but things like this… well, they're on the same level as glasses, or piercings. A small change that—for a select few—can turn their entire world on an axis.

How far up do they go?

Does he have more?

When did he get them, and what do they symbolize?

"Ethan?"

The blonde startles, blue eyes flickering up in embarrassment.

Leon blinks at him. "What's your damage?"

Oh, Jesus Christ. "Nothing, sorry. Just a little spacey… today."

"I'll say."

Ethan hurriedly scoots closer to his desk, quickly turning his attention back to the papers that scatter across it. He isn't even sure what he's supposed to be doing with these, or why he even got assigned to deal with them, but if things keep going the way they are, he's gonna be here all fucking night.

Ethan frowns. And then he hesitates, realization dawning on him slowly that… hey, doesn't Leon work crazy late hours, too?

No.. no, no. He's on the clock. He needs to pay attention…

"Ethan." It isn't a question this time. Ethan meets Leon's gaze with a sheepish expression, and the other man draws his brows together. "Seriously, what's going on with you?"

How does one go about confessing their guilty, weird, quid-pro-quo attraction to their superior without coming off as a freak? Better yet, how does one go about it without getting fired? Ethan feels a cold sweat prickle beneath the collar of his button-up.

I like you. I like you. I like you.

"I like…" It's like there's a solid chunk of ice stuck in his throat. "Well, I mean, your… you know."

Leon's look of concern quickly shifts into one of bewilderment. "No?" He says, real slow-like. "I don't know."

Ethan wants to die.

"It's just…"

The atmosphere in the room shifts. Ethan's hands are clammy and cold and he regrets even opening his mouth; wishing he could've just opted to say that he feels sick and his head hurts, and maybe even take the rest of the night off so he could reflect on all of this – perhaps over a nice glass of red wine. Instead, because he's terrible at socializing and even worse at socializing with Leon, he's currently staring the agent down with terror flashing in his eyes.

Leon doesn't say anything, but it's obvious that he's dying to get this over with, just like Ethan is.

"Y– you can't get mad," Ethan stammers, clenching his fingers.

More silence.

Ethan sighs. Then, finally, he lays down his cards with a quiet, "Your tattoos."

Leon tilts his head. "... Mine?" He asks, a bit delayed, and Ethan has never wanted to evaporate into thin air more than he does right now.

"Yeah."

"Like, the ones on my arms?" Leon rotates his wrists, glancing down at his own artwork. 

"Yeah."

"Ah." 

Great. When should he start packing up his belongings? Now? Tomorrow? There's a spare produce box in the break room, and he only has a couple of personal items on his desk. His name placard, a picture of his childhood dog, a cup full of pens he got on clearance at Staples…

Although Ethan doesn't get to stand up or prepare before Leon is speaking again, his voice surprisingly nonchalant. 

"And...?"

Ethan sucks in a deep breath. That's a good question. "They're… distracting me?" Vague enough to keep matters civil. He can do this. "And that's why I'm a little… slow, today. I think. Because they're doing that. Distracting me, I mean."

Leon hums, acknowledging that he heard Ethan's answer. He waits, silent until Ethan manages to scrounge up the courage to meet him eye-to-eye, and then he laughs.

There's something to be said about the way in which Leon handles all things; from topics as serious as bioweapons wreaking havoc on unsuspecting townhomes, to things like this – Ethan admitting he's intrigued by the older man's ink. He's good at finding the balance while still remaining cool and collected, and that's a trait Ethan's always admired.

Because, sadly, he cannot do that.

"I knew there was something about you, Winters," Leon says jovially, as if he's uncovered some grand secret. He leans back in his chair, pushes himself a little further away from his desk, and says: "Do you want to come have a better look?"

Ethan nearly chokes on his spit. "W– wh– what?"

Leon's grin widens. He's enjoying this. "I can't have distractions in the workplace. So if you're curious, and think it might help you refocus, I implore you to get your ass over here and take a gander."

The blonde flusters, his lips screwing into a scowl. Implore. What did this guy know about words like that?

Regardless, he still obediently gathers himself to his feet, taking the necessary steps to close the distance between him and Leon. The fine hairs on the back of Ethan's neck stand at attention, and he's acutely aware of the personal bubble he is now officially bursting— not that Leon seems to notice, or mind.

Infact, the only thing he does when Ethan comes to stand beside his chair is jut both arms out, letting Ethan do whatever he likes.

Instinctively, Ethan grabs them. Then panics, because holy shit, he's touching Leon fucking Kennedy. Then double panics, because why did he do that? Why is he still doing it right now?

"Uh…"

"You just wanted to hold hands?"

"N– no!" Ethan exclaims, immediately letting go. Leon bursts out into full-bellied laughter, and the blonde has to take a deep breath before he passes out from his nerves. "Jesus, Leon, I– I was trying to bring them a little closer."

"Oh right, the bad eyesight," Leon drawls. "I forgot you wear glasses sometimes. Near-sighted?"

"Far-sighted. Now shut up and let me look," Ethan snaps, finding his second wind. He reaches for Leon's arms again and finds relief in how the older man wordlessly obliges; giving Ethan the opportunity to twist his arms and inspect the patterns that dance across them. It's not a situation Ethan could've expected, or even predicted, but Leon's right about one thing—this is definitely scratching that terrible itch he feels, somewhere deep down. No more needing to sneak creepy, uncomfortable glances to figure out what they are.

However, he'll always wonder where the tattoos lead. And how many more of them Leon has, hidden underneath all those layers of fabric.

"I see." Ethan nods, smiling faintly as he releases his grip again. "They're cool, I wasn't expecting you to have them. Then again, I've never seen you wear anything other than long sleeves."

Leon quirks a brow. "You pay attention?"

Ethan's smile drops. "Oh. I mean, not in like– not in a weird way, that isn't what—"

There's the sound of a scoff, and then Leon's hands are on Ethan's wrists, gently pulling him down to his level. The blonde stumbles forwards and catches himself with a knee on Leon's chair, and the situation is so intense and utterly stifling that Ethan has to rear away with his eyes narrowed in firm on the office door.

"Ethan," Leon coos.

The blonde makes a noncommittal sound in his throat. 

"Ethan, c'mon, look at me."

There's no way this is happening right now. No feasible way. He must be dreaming.

Ethan registers with rapt attention as Leon let's go of his wrists in favor of bringing both hands up to cup his cheeks, and whether Ethan wants to submit or not isn't really an option anymore. Determinedly, the older man coaxes him to meet his gaze again.

"Shy?" Leon teases, and then quickly changes his tune when Ethan struggles in his grasp. "Okay, okay, I was just kidding! Damn."

"Leon—"

"Hold on for a second, sweetheart. I've got a few things on my mind." Ethan's face burns as he tries to process this, process the feel of Leon's touch as it sears itself into his memory. His heart pounds so fiercely in his chest he fears that Leon can feel it, but if he does, he doesn't comment.

Leon brushes his thumbs over Ethan's cheekbones. "You thought I'd be mad?"

"It's... unprofessional," Ethan breathes.

"What is?" Leon asks. His eyes are so blue. "Wanting to see my tattoos?"

Ethan nods. Leon snickers, pulling him that much closer, and the blonde is enveloped in the smell of bergamot and gunpowder and something spicy like sage, and… what was the question again? He can't think clearly when he can feel Leon's words flit across his lips.

"The only 'unprofessional' thing I see is the subordinate about to climb into his boss's lap," Leon murmurs with a wry smile. Ethan lets out a small gasp, jolting, and Leon makes sure he doesn't slip away. "Woah, hey! I never said I didn't like it."

"L– Leon, I don't understand what's…" Ethan stutters, shivering, feeling the traces of electricity that follow Leon's fingertips. He doesn't know whether to lean into him or settle his entire weight on top of Leon, so to play it safe, he refrains from doing either.

The agent takes a moment, eyes sweeping over Ethan's features, before letting out a soft exhale. "Well, now you've seen them. I hope that helped you find some kind of clarity..."

Not even a little bit, Ethan thinks miserably.

"... But it'll probably kill you to know that there's more than just this, and I can assure you, they are much more interesting." Leon chuckles as he tugs the blonde in one last time, and kisses him, right on the corner of his mouth.

"Still distracted?" He whispers.

Ethan can't even think of a proper reply. His brain has turned to mush.

"You…"

"Mm?"

Ethan sucks in a deep breath. "You're a fucking asshole."

Leon throws his head back and laughs, and when he recovers Ethan is already swooping in for another kiss. To hell with professionalism.

[kuiperblog]

The first 1% is always the hardest

Usually, the hardest part of acquiring a new skill is starting it for the first time.

When you’re at an intermediate level of progression, you can usually just increase your skill level by incrementing up the difficulty linearly.  If you’re a novice weightlifter and your best overhead press is 125 lbs, try adding 5 lbs to the bar and see if you can overhead press 130 lbs. (If not, keep lifting 125 lbs every few days until that becomes “easy,” then challenge yourself with 130 lbs again.)  If you can do 10 push-ups, you will probably reach the point where you can do 11 push-ups, and 12 push-ups, and 15 push-ups, and 25 push-ups, and so on.  The hardest part of lifting is day 1, when you might be performing certain motions for the first time in your life, and challenging your body to work muscles that you didn’t even realize existed.

I imagine the same is true of other fitness regimens: once you’re able to run a 9 minute mile, you probably have what it takes to run a 8:30 mile, or a 8 minute mile, if you keep at it.  Eventually you’ll hit a plateau and the limits of human performance, but the first day in the gym is always the hardest.

This is sort of how the trajectory of my writing career went.  And having talked to artist friends, and musicians, it seems like all of them followed a similar trend: they found a thing, they stuck with it, and over time found themselves advancing along that path bit by bit.  It became a hobby or a routine such that over time, by  by investing a bit more time, or a bit more effort, or challenging themselves a tiny bit more, they got better at it.  And over years, the compounding returns of that meant that the girl who got a drawing tablet at age 14 found that by the time she was 22 years old, she had enough artistic skill to make enough money from her art to make a living.

I think that in a lot of cases, people were able to start down that path of gradual self-improvement in part because they were able to somehow bypass the hardest part of it -- they blazed right through the initial difficulty without even realizing it.  They couldn’t even really answer the question of “When did you start drawing,” because they’ve always been drawing since the days that they were just doodling with pencil in paper at school. Maybe they just really enjoyed playing outdoors as a kid, and played soccer because it was fun, and made the seamless transition to being a high school athlete. In my case, I spent a lot of time writing long-winded forum posts explaining the finer points of topics I was passionate about (which, at age 13, was mostly Pokemon and Final Fantasy), and somehow by my 20′s I had enough of a penchant for explaining things that I was able to parley that into a writing career (so I can get paid for my long-winded explanations of Pokemon-related topics).

The early days of learning to write kind of sucked and were difficult.  (For starters, remember how unintuitive that QWERTY keyboard was the first time that you learned to type? Remember how painful it was to hunt-and-peck your way through sentences at an effective rate of <10 words per minute?)  But my desire to talk about Pokemon on message boards overwhelmed any difficulty or “suckiness” involved with learning to express my ideas through text, and so the suckiness of those early days wasn’t really much of an obstacle.

More and more, I’ve come to believe that the most important part of learning a new skill is finding a way to get over that initial difficulty hump -- of finding a way to survive the first day, and then the first week, and then the first month, and eventually reach a point where inertia carries you forward on a gradual upward slope of self-improvement where you’re not even consciously thinking too hard about improvement; you just randomly muse to yourself one day, “Oh yeah, this barbell I’m picking up weighs about 100 lbs more than the barbell I was lifting a year ago. Fancy that.” The longer you keep at it, the easier it is to stick with it.

In many corners of the internet, there’s an oft-repeated adage that “Watching anime won’t teach you to speak or understand Japanese.”  And sure, that’s obviously true on some level. If someone is thinking they’re going to spend a thousand hours watching subtitled anime, and then one day flip off the subtitles and be able to follow everything without missing a beat, they’re probably a bit delusional. If you want to actually achieve anything approaching Japanese fluency, you’re probably going to have to take a Japanese learning course, and engaged in spaced repetition to pick up and retain vocabulary, and all of the other stuff that goes into learning any language.

But I think that watching anime does provide you with one big advantage: it goes a long way toward helping you cross that “day 1″ hump. Because the first day is always the hardest. Going from 0 to 1 is harder than increasing your vocabulary by a few new words every week.  Before you can get the compounding returns from incrementally improving at a skill, you have to have a starting principle.  And I think that watching anime is actually quite good for that, because only knowing “weeaboo Japanese” will give you 20-30% of the vocabulary that’s included in your first couple Japanese lessons.

I’m speaking from personal experience: it’s incredibly heartening to go through a lesson and encounter words that I’m already familiar with.  Even if my fluency in “weeaboo Japanese” only covers 10% of what’s introduced in a given lesson, having a head start gives me an intangible confidence boost which makes it easier for me to focus on and retain the other 90%.

I don’t want to understate the importance of that intangible confidence boost: a lot of language acquisition is getting comfortable with a language, and repeating something so much that you do it without even thinking about it. For example, in English, sometimes sometimes someone might ask you “how’s it going?” and you might answer “fine” before your brain has even consciously registered the meaning of what you were hearing, or saying. And I’m enough of a weeb that I can hear i tenki desu ne and immediately reflexively respond with sou desu ne, before my brain has even consciously registered the question being asked (sometimes taking several seconds to mentally backtrack and realize, “Oh right, the “i tenki” part means “nice weather.”).  But years and years of listening and pattern recognition have taught me that when someone ends a sentence in desu ne? with the sort of inflection that says “I’m asking you a rhetorical question,” the proper response is probably sou desu ne, and my brain produces that response just as reflexively as it spits out “I’m doing fine, how about you?” any time someone asks “How’s it going?”)

One thing I’ve come to notice is that every lesson begins with some of some amount of review, giving you that spaced repetition, and providing context for the new words and concepts that the lesson is about to introduce, and generally provide a foundation for the new material.  Day 1 is, by necessity, the exception -- how can you “review” material that you’ve never covered before?  But for me, the day 1 lessons on how to say nihongo and arigato and watashi and anata were already “review” of topics that I picked up through years of being a weeb.

Besides that, there’s the fact that the structural elements of Japanese are something that my brain was naturally able to grok in a way that is intuitive to me after spending years listening to spoken Japanese even though most of it is contextual. (Like, I’m not sure when this happened, but at a certain point I think my brain just kind of learned, when listening to Japanese sentences, to approximate which parts were the verb and where certain clauses landed in the sentence, if only because when watching anime with subtitles you become consciously aware of when a character’s name appears in the dialog.) I’m not really consciously thinking about it, which kind of feels like the “natural” way to learn a language.  (After all, it’s not as if native English speakers, as toddlers, consciously think to themselves, “Ah, it seems as though English typically follows a subject-verb-object grammar structure.” Kids just listen to adults speaking English and form sentences that way without really having to be formally taught.)

It’s highly likely that at some point in my internet career that I have at one point been the cynical message board poster telling someone that, contrary to their fantasies, watching anime isn’t going to help them learn Japanese in any real or material way, and if I’ve ever suggested that, it’s time for me to eat crow.  Because while the advantage that “weeaboo-level Japanese” gives you might be small, and only help you on the first few days of Japanese class, those are the most important days, because the first 1% is always the hardest.

My familiarity with “weeaboo-level Japanese” has only given me one disadvantage, and that is that years of memes have poisoned my brain to the point where the first I was prompted with “say ‘excuse me’ in Japanese,” my brain (and mouth) immediately spat out “sorrymasen,” and I wish I could say it only happened once, but it wasn’t until around day 3 that I managed to fully train this habit out of myself.

[ravenadottir]

what do you think the characters would be doing after the show/how would they be using their platform? for example, i think lottie would be using hers to give people astrology readings and stuff and i think the season 3 mc would be sooo problematic online

ok but you know what? definitely! s3 mc would be causing the stir she wanted to in the villa and couldn't. i'm almost certain she would be raging and saying absurd things to get attention, something like gabby hana you know? BIG YIKES.

one thing is certain... all of them (purposely or not) would be making thirst traps... and definitely supporting masks and registering to vote. so that's a certainty for almost all of them.

lottie. witchtok constantly. not necessarily giving readings but she would be an apologist and majority on that tag. her instagram would be split into two accounts: one for her personal endeavours like thirst traps and *looks of the day*, and a second for her brand as a makeup artist/personal stylist. cause i think that would be so fucking cool! lottie knows how to perpetuate her personal brand and would use social media for that as well. here's some edits i did in the past to explain it better. i headcanon a collab with elisa for wigs that they would both wear on social media, so that's something i really like! plus, advocating for women's rights, especially when a male politician says something dumb, so you know, EVERY SINGLE DAY.

bobby. in the middle of the pandemic? can't help thinking he would be doing some humorous videos, but in my head they're not the funny type. just some cringey ones... don't get me wrong, but bobby is only funny when he's not trying to, and in social media he strikes me as the type that not only makes videos but also puts the towel over his head to play a girl, so that's probably the majority of his content. some food of course, and DEFINITELY some *cute* selfies that he knows it works as thirst traps. i think he talks about registering to vote and blm, but doesn't give his opinion on anything else, politics wise. here's bobby's feed for the rest.

gary. i'm not thrilled to inform that gary would be thirst trapping all the time. now that he's relatively famous there's no reason why not posting those pics and videos. between tik tok trends to show off his muscles, and instagram to... well, do that exact same thing, he might take some time to show nan and the soup kitchen, but overall... thirst traps. possibly being blunt about masks and registering but his content is very closed off. also, he will get a dog and encourage people to adopt. there's a lot of pranks on dicky and vice versa, so that's something i thought for his social media, just couldn't find a good faceclaim that has a variety of pics.

lucas. mostly bringing awareness about covid and the use of masks, probably pointing it out a couple of political disputes, and definitely advising people to be careful about their votes all around the world. i like to think he's a huge advocate for legalization of a certain practice that women have to beg to have (you know the one), and i think he knows exactly how to make a thirst trap without making one. stop asian hate and blm carrds present, and often giving his followers the incentive to donate. DEFINITELY 'look of the day' for at least the weekend, and lots and lots of landscape from the places he's been visiting or wishing to.

henrik. he's everywhere and he takes his phone to talk about it. no doubt henrik is having the time of his life by travelling alone, or with his wife, and doing lives at all times. i think you would see him doing lives in the middle of the night, or watching the sunset/sunrise with his followers, besides making his *questionable* forest foraging and recipes. survival videos? MOST LIKELY THAN YOU THINK. here's his social media, where i covered mostly of what his relationship would like on instagram. (heavily based off "beyond the hill").

carl. the amount of rpg on his stories? immaculate. chess? you bet! lots and lots of carl's launchings for his company, which does have a separate account but he can't quite separate himself from it and it shows on his feed. his relationship would be discreetly displayed with cryptic captions since he's not so sentimental. here's his feed with some personal things he would be encouraged to post and boost that confidence of his.

anon that asked for more hannah stuff, this is for you:

hannah. i have one for her because i do like her aesthetic. don't mind the faceclaim, it was the only one i could find in so many situations. horses, books, some *cute* selfies, travelling pics and more. on tiktok definitely booktok, no doubt about it. she might do a lot of the "telling the story of my book as a story time" trend to promote it and say "technically it's real life."

elisa. it's all about branding and she knows how to do it well! some influencers might not get political because of how they can be perceived but i think elisa doesn't give a flying fuck about that. she talks often about blm and vaccines on her stories. i get a jackie aina vibe from her when talking about brands that support/encourage dark skin models and influencers, so that's a plus. she will give shit to a makeup brand that doesn't care for shade range and won't hide her feelings about it. here's her usual feed, with looks and tours (that i'm certain she would do a lot). i also think she'll eventually cave and have a brand of wigs, clothes and makeup, AS SHE SHOULD.

hope. there's no question about her activism on social media and i like to imagine she would be speaking up against anti-vaxxers and racism, mostly. just like yewande, she would probably talk about every time she felt the show might've favoured people that don't look like her. we would be getting the hot tea on everything since she's so honest. there's also lots of looks and promoting her friends' products because she supports them so much. priya's clothing line, elisa x lottie collab, etc. here's the feed i made for her a while ago.

chelsea. she might not be that deep into politics but she'll talk about covid and how people should be more careful about it, "wearing all these cute masks my babes lozza made for us!". LOTS of *look of the day* and tours on the spaces she decorates, besides the behind the scenes of parties and weddings (of ex-islanders) that i know she would throw. her feed also includes her closet, supporting her friends' endeavours and promoting them, besides some random mug collection shots and FOR SURE a pug selfie with mc.

priya. there's not much to say except for the occasional thirst trap (with those amazing thigh, ffs she should), lots of vaccine warnings, definitely political anecdotes and her clothing brand. i love to think she would have an actual boutique once things get settled after covid, and she would use social media to promote every line. her feed consists mostly of her travelling, designs, supporting the girls and her photoshoots.

kassam. lots and lots of backstage photos and that *prickly* way of demanding people to use their brains and wear a mask, besides getting the vaccine. in studio or just before the stage, selfies with a clothing line with his logo and definitely pics with islanders he didn't get to meet but is now friends with. during covid he would be using his lives to play for his followers, like lots of dj's and musicians i've seen doing on reddit and tiktok, probably called "late night music" or something like that. encouraging followers to donate for causes as well.

noah. not so huge on social media, might be the most discrete of them all. there would be lots and lots of pictures of the mornings before he opens the library, because i sincerely think he would keep his job. not the most outspoken about certain matters but carrds like the blm's and 'stop asian hate''s are on all of his bio's. i do like to imagine him taking selfies with the boys from the show, like ibrahim. he would be so present in noah's feed it's not even funny. the casual "cute unintentional" thirst trap too. family photos from ages ago and lots of his siblings as well. he does love to write long captions for whenever he posts his girlfriend. one thing though, during the first few months on the outside, he wouldn't be so present, afraid of facing the bashing on him if he got with mc in the show. that could be a reason for him to stay away until people "forget" about it.

marisol. SO - MANY - SUITS - SELFIES it makes me cry happy tears. between advocating for women's rights in a more technical way, she would definitely be using her platform to also talk about lgbtq+, especially after the realization she had during her journey. lots and lots of activism about those things, and i think she would be doing a fine job. definitely promoting the girls' products/services and an occasional thirst trap with a braless suit look.

rocco. covidiot. (i just wanted to use this nickname one more time). he might get a hard time from followers and villa buddies because of his stance on vaccines. i just hope he reads some articles instead of sharing bibity-bobity-bullshit on facebook and instagram. there's lots of vaccine memes on his comment sections no matter what he posts though. it's gonna take a while for the public to move on.

[tsukiida]

honey — bakugou katsuki

— info :: bakugou x gn!reader ; sfw ; fluff & humour ; 6.04k words.

— contents :: quirkless reader ; reader’s pov ; scheming friends ; dumbass!reader ; slight cussing ; confessions.

— synopsis :: if there’s one thing that you have in common with bakugou katsuki, it’s obliviousness to the other’s feelings. a haunted house is the best place to resolve misunderstandings.

— note :: it’s been a while; I finally finished this!! :D it’s a continuation to bakugou’s “pining”, and I’d suggest reading that first for the full experience™ but there are hints dropped throughout “honey” to give you an idea of what happened! I hope y’all like this! :)

quite honestly, you've got to be the biggest idiot possible.

really, you had the best chance.

it’s not like confessing to bakugou katsuki would be that bad, right? the most he’d do is turn you down with a scoff and then go back to pretending you don’t exist while chasing his heroic dreams.

he’s not big on humiliating people unless they’re— a: aspiring heroes, or b: midoriya izuku.

he definitely wouldn’t lord it over your head and tease you about it.

kaminari really gave you the best opportunity to get things out in the open!

and you let it slip through your fingers like an idiot.

furthermore, you really did also say that you have absolutely no romantic interest in the explosive pretty boy. you acted like the idea of harboring any feelings towards him shocked you. you also acted like he was the weird one for thinking you liked him.

while having a raging crush on him which really makes your heart beat and bounce around in your ribcage as if getting a firsthand taste of his quirk.

have you mentioned that you’re an idiot?

right, you have done that enough times, so maybe the next step is to explain why.

you’d been out running an errand when you’d come across midoriya izuku.

midoriya; the only other quirkless student in your year, in junior high. you’d never talked much to him, but you’d felt a sense of camaraderie with him whenever you saw him. the school was small enough that you could count the number of quirkless people on one hand.

you and deku were included in that number.

the only reason why you didn’t get picked on for the reasons he did was because you never wanted to be a hero.

and you avoided bakugou katsuki like the plague.

to be honest, you hated him at first.

you’d seen it all, but hadn’t been able to do anything other than giving midoriya a few words of comfort which felt hollow to your own ears. you still blamed yourself a little for having never helped him properly.

you loathed bakugou for being as powerful as he was, as arrogant and stuck up as he was, and for being the petty bully who really thought he was better than someone just because of a quirk.

you were bitter. not because you didn’t have a quirk, but because people like him made people like you feel like you weren’t worth anything.

that’s why, when you chanced upon midoriya after such a long time, you were elated.

you were so happy when you found out that he really did have what it takes to be a hero.

if you deliberately ignored bakugou, then that’s entirely on him and not on you.

you won’t be taking responsibility for things that aren’t your fault.

…you were also wary of him.

you didn’t want him to blow you up if you so much as smiled at him.

not that he deserved seeing your smile anyway.

that’s what you told yourself right in the beginning. and that’s what came to bite you in the ass, because some days you have to do your best to conceal your smile at the mention of the stupid explosive boy’s name.

he really does scare you, you didn’t lie about that. but despite that, your brain thinks that it’s fun to get flustered over someone who scares you. just a little bit! he’s losing that scariness rapidly in all situations except when you’ve seen him in action as a budding hero. you just get worried that he’s going to take one look at you and decide that you’re getting in his way, a nuisance to everyone, and whatever else he can think of you.

in all honesty, you’re aware that he was an idiot in middle school, and the majority of his issues stemmed from his convoluted relationship with midoriya. if midoriya himself can forgive him, then you don’t really have a reason to hold grudges. and you know he’s grown. he’s matured to an extent you never expected from him, but perhaps that’s how he goes through life.

exceeding expectations is something he’s great at.

and he’s grown into someone wonderfully inspiring, if not intimidating.

—juuuust a little!

…

uraraka finds out first.

you love that girl, but you could do without her knowing about your embarrassing crush on one bakugou katsuki.

if only she’d actually helped you out, instead of teasing you subtly to the point that you couldn’t even stay in the same room as bakugou—to the point that you vehemently denied any sort of interest in him when midoriya innocently brought up the other boy in a conversation.

it becomes a reflex to avoid anything related to bakugou and romance in the same space. which is how you landed yourself in the mess with kaminari.

so you’re going to blame uraraka. she’s definitely at fault! it’s not your wimpy self to blame!

“uraraka,” you end up mumbling into the phone, rocking back and forth while hiding your face against your knees, wishing to be swallowed whole.

“uraraka, i told kaminari that i don’t like him.” despite having promised yourself that you won’t bring the whole thing up with her, you can’t help it. she’s still your precious friend that you’re very fond of, and the same friend who wrangled out from you all of your embarrassing opinions of him.

“uraraka, he’s going to hate me now. he’s going to think i don’t think he’s cool or strong, or whatever else that might hurt his pride. he’s going to completely stop paying attention to me now!”

you may claim that you blame her, but you’re aware that she’s not at fault. she always tries hyping you up when you’re nervous and comforts you when you’re down. perhaps you’re taking advantage of her kindness, but you really don’t want to be left alone with your thoughts. and it really is her fault for being so encouraging when it comes to dealing with your feelings for bakugou katsuki.

so when your friend just wordlessly hums in response for the third time, your fingers clench in your hair and you let out a frustrated sigh. raising your pitch obnoxiously, you whine, “uraraka!”

“i love you, but if you call my name like that one more time i will tell deku.”

you freeze, not sure if she means telling him about your not-so-little crush, or merely the fact that you like singing uraraka’s name. she laughs mischievously, clearing up your confusion much too quickly, prompting you to let out frantic apologies and make her promise that she won’t let the cat out of the bag.

“really, though,” you mumble, “he didn’t even remember me. he asked me if i was messing with him using my quirk. i had to tell him i was quirkless and then deal with his anger.”

that gets her attention in an entirely different manner. she sounds positively incensed when she asks you why it matters if you’re quirkless, and you give her reasons that sound weak to your own ears.

“and how are you messing with him?”

that leads to you telling her about one of your earlier interactions with bakugou, back when you’d first started being friends with midoriya’s class. you mention how you were about ready to pass out when bakugou’s question registered in your mind and you had to tell him you were quirkless, before you’re back to bemoaning the conversation with kaminari.

and something clicks.

not in your brain.

but in uraraka’s.

…

it’s not just you avoiding bakugou.

bakugou avoids you like the plague.

the sensible part of you is relieved, but another, bigger and dumber, part of you is hurt. of course he’d avoid you if his friend asked you if you liked him, and you said you didn’t.

but ouch, you really didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

not that something like this should even matter to him, right? maybe it’s you who’s suddenly noticing that he avoids you, because now you have a reason to fixate on rather than trying to lie to yourself that bakugou is not entirely indifferent to you. he really has no reason to pay attention to you.

it all makes sense, but it doesn’t stop you from feeling saddened every time bakugou blatantly ignores you. nor does it stop you from going out of your mind wondering why kaminari, too, seems to avoid you at all costs. it’s not like you said you didn’t like him!

yes, it makes sense perfectly. but not to you.

it makes absolutely no sense to you.

…

midoriya’s advancing steadily in his hero career with uraraka’s help, because the latter convinces you to come meet up with the two of them on a rare day out, and the former conveniently drags bakugou out too.

really, such heroics, all for a friend’s pathetic love life? how heartwarming.

you’re still in shock at how easy it was, and god, you don’t want to think about the implications, with the way bakugou’s eyes flit from one to the other when he’s not looking at you.

you also don’t want to admit that you’re stealing glances out of the corner of your eye at the blond when you don’t feel his eyes boring into you.

talk about awkward.

you’ve always been enamoured by how smart bakugou actually is, but it works against you when he corners you after uraraka and midoriya mysteriously vanish under the guise of training.

(that too at an arcade, because gaming supposedly helps achieve better reflex. why is a quirkless person with no interest in being a hero even invited to this outing? one will never know. the only games being played here are with your frayed self-control.)

“oi, if you’re gonna avoid me, don’t be so obvious about it.”

“a—? avoid you?” you practically squeak, and his annoyance seems to increase. there’s something else that you can’t really put a finger to. you’d say he almost looks agitated? but there’s nothing to agitate himself over…

…unless he still thinks you’ve got a raging crush on him.

“nope!” you hastily respond before realising he’s not even said anything to you, but hey, it’s as good an answer to his complaint about you avoiding him.

why’s he complaining, anyway? shouldn’t he be glad no one’s getting in his way?

you ask as much, and he all but growls, words escaping him as you take a step back. bakugou is more susceptible to dramatics than one would think. you used to find it funny, but when such behaviour is aimed at you, you’re not sure how to respond.

“you think you can actually get in my way?” he bursts out, and you make a show of thinking about it, when internally every single one of your brain cells is rioting, self-composure in shambles as you’re rudely made aware of how little distance is between the two of you.

that’s fine, you’re strong, you’re not going to be weak in the face of bakugou katsuki’s incredibly attractive glower.

no, you’re not whipped, thank you very much, to the uraraka-shaped devil materialising in your mind.

ah, back to the matter at hand. it’s not possible for quirkless little you to get in his way, is it?

anyway—

“aren’t you the one avoiding me?” you’re going to try and turn this situation around on him even if it means confronting things you don’t want to.

he scoffs in disbelief, but by that time you’ve worked up the courage to look at him, and you see the look in his eyes. you’ve spent enough time around him to know what that means, even if you barely ever look at him. he looks like he’s been caught, and isn’t that the funniest little thing?

he notices the twitch of your mouth, his own eyes narrowing as it’s your turn to be caught now.

“kaminari,” bakugou says in lieu of a response, and your heart jumps in your throat. you don’t mind dropping a subject if he doesn’t plan on grilling you on it too—changing the subject would be great, but he just picked one even worse than the last!

“he’s stupid, don’t pay attention to him.”

“uh huh, he sure is,” you laugh nervously. if you’d had your bearings about you, you’d never have said that. as it is, your mind is still shaken up and hoping that he doesn’t catch on to the fact that you are the stupid one.

you’re also very busy battling a smug uraraka and shouting at incompetent old you for swooning in the face of your biggest problem. and for, you know, missing that golden chance to confess without anxiety.

“look at me.”

nuh uh, nope, not possible. you’re not going to survive looking into his pretty eyes.

he lets out another frustrated sound, and you wait for him to blow up again—maybe even cause explosions. you wonder why he’s not been doing that lately.

he gets tired of your stalling, and surprises you by getting in your line of sight, locking eyes with you.

ah, impatience is such a gorgeous look on him.

…and you’re insufferable.

“i am not avoiding you. why would i, idiot? there’s nothing i need to avoid you for.”

you nod, not quite believing him, but you really want to just move on from this. a part of you wonders if you should come clean. but bakugou really doesn’t seem like he wants to hear anything about that. it’s in the way his eyes flit away momentarily and his expression sours, and in the way he seems to be pushing himself to hold onto some shreds of self-control.

all you can do is nod, really.

“where’s deku?”

you’re barely able to carry on the conversation, making some excuse or the other as to your missing friend(s), doing your best to act like you don’t have a clue either. if he finds your behaviour suspicious, bakugou doesn’t comment on it.

he does comment on something else. again.

“you don’t have to keep avoiding me just because of pikachu either.”

really? there’s nothing better for him to talk about? you thought you were past this! and calling kaminari ‘pikachu’ is not that smart!

“pikachu was cute…” you mumble. and you need to be louder, because you don’t want bakugou leaning in any closer to hear you.

the proximity is doing things to you.

things like making you forget that he probably hates your guts and doesn’t want to spend time with you, nor talk to you, at all. things like how he’s probably upset at being stuck babysitting you while midoriya and uraraka are off who knows where. things like making you discuss the cute factor of a magic ball–inhabiting yellow electric creature when bakugou clearly means the boy who almost outed your silly crush.

the boy who was giving you the best opportunity to confess!!!

if there’s one person who will never let you forget that, it’s your own self.

bakugou makes a sound that almost sounds like laughter, but there’s no way, right?

he shuffles back slightly, making it that much easier to breathe before he drops another bomb.

“school festival.”

you blink.

“it’ll be next month. make sure you’re free.”

oh. the stupid part of you is internally rejoicing, but since there is no way that he’d actually ask you to come—

“a-are you asking me to visit…?”

no no no, you didn’t mean to ask—

bakugou gives you a flat stare, and you gulp. so you were right for once.

you mull over it for a moment, the concrete under your feet extremely interesting before meeting his eyes again, “am i allowed to?”

“you practically live with us with how often i see you in the dorms. you think they’ll stop you now?” he snorts, rolling his eyes, but there’s not as much bite to his words as one would expect.

he has a point.

but you can’t really see reason when every single cell of your body is screaming ‘IT’S A DATE’ over and over again.

you groan, before swallowing back the sound. uh oh, bakugou’s going to think you don’t want to—

“come when you can.”

hands in his pockets, he walks off as if he wasn’t just making you go through all stages of panic.

…

uraraka tells you why she vanished. she was simply being a ‘good friend’ and trying to get you and bakugou to reconcile. you politely tell her it wasn’t required, especially because there wasn’t much that happened.

except the fact that he asked you to turn up to the festival, so that’s nice, at least.

uraraka doesn’t react as expected, again, and she utters the cursed words that you never wanted to hear out loud. “aw, a date!”

“uraraka, no!”

but it’s too late. it’s been said and now you can’t think of anything else. you know it’s not a date, any sane person would know that, but you can’t stop thinking of that one stupid word and bakugou and the school festival and spending time with bakugou at the festival—

“uraraka… the festival— i’ll need to see him. i’ll see him having the time of his life while he’s in his element, i’ll see that infuriating face— i’ll have to spend time with him—”

“y/n,” uraraka gives you a look that’s the perfect amount of wary and pitying to make you embarrassed, but there are bigger things to worry about than your friend’s opinion of you.

“this is bakugou we’re talking about. he’s not that open about having fun unless it has something to do with murder.” the fact that he won’t be keen on spending time with you goes unsaid, but you know what she’s hinting at. “also, i don’t think you find his face as infuriating as you say.”

“still. bakugou katsuki. he… told me to— agh—”

and you’re back to square one, where the very mention of bakugou katsuki has you confused out of your mind because you don’t know how to act around him.

perfect.

…

time passes quicker when you’re hoping for the opposite, you find out when the days go by faster than you can blink. there’s just a week left before you have to see bakugou again, and it makes you nervous every time you think about it. which is a lot of times.

you’ve not seen the class in a while, since everyone told you they have a ‘surprise.’ you know they’re aiming to outdo their previous performance at the festival, you’re rooting for them. but without one of your main sources of entertainment, things haven’t been eventful.

except the conversation you have with kaminari over text, because of course he somehow procured your contact information and of course he felt like he had to make amends.

maybe you were expecting it because you were already on edge from when bakugou confronted you, but kaminari doesn’t beat around the bush and gets straight to the matter, which is quite unlike the last time you both talked. that time.

“haven’t got the chance to check in w/ u in a while, we’ve been crazy busy! i hope u’ve been well >:D” shifts to “we’re good, right?” sooner than you’d like, and you’re left staring at your screen in shock as you try to think of an innocuous response that doesn’t give away your true emotions.

kaminari is too quick, and he doesn’t even give you a chance to think of a lie before the next ping distracts you, leaving you staring at the latest message in horror; “blame bakugou! he’s the one who told us you like him! i’m really sorry! :(”

it’s nice of him to apologise, but you really have other things to think about.

like how it’s bakugou katsuki himself who apparently thought you had a crush on him.

he knew.

he knows.

he knows he knows he knows—

no, no, he doesn’t know. he can’t. maybe he was just suspicious.

and on the off chance that he does know, then of course. he’s smart. you’re stupidly obvious. of course he’d figure out.

but he doesn’t seem to hate you. he was the one who approached you every time! when he asked you to turn your quirk off, when he supposedly instructed kaminari to ask you if you liked him, and when he told you to visit for the festival.

you like to think that he’s just too busy training to even realise that you like him. you hope that’s the case. you can always come clean and admit that yes, you really do like him. but there’s also your lame excuse of a pride that remembers the unreadable expression on his face when he’d heard you then, before promptly leaving, the door shut slamming shut behind him.

perhaps it’s not your pride, but guilt. you don’t want to be annoying and get in his way. there are too many things going on in his life already, why would you want to add on to all of that with your silly lies? the same logic applies to a confession too, argues the part of you that lives and breathes denial.

looking at it from another perspective, bakugou likes the attention and admiration. maybe it would’ve been for the best if you’d just admitted—

it’s too late now, so the most you can do is type out a hasty response to kaminari before he suspects your silence.

“it’s totally ok. we’re good :DD will see you guys soon!”

it’s purely to hold yourself accountable and not weasel your way out of the inevitable trip, but kaminari’s enthusiastic response manages to bring a smile to your face.

…

the evening before the grand day, you call uraraka up before the jitters can defeat you. she doesn’t react much other than humming and speaking a few encouraging statements while you lament over your luck and try to subtly ask her how bakugou has been doing.

“i’m sure he’s… excited.” you can practically feel the smile gracing her lips, and you know she’s having fun at your expense. when does she not?

you know she’s also having fun when she calls you a whiny complainer and says bakugou would probably blow up if he knew even a bit of it, and you – predictably – complain more, blaming her for meddling and bringing you to this point.

bakugou doesn’t need to know about your penchant for whining when things don’t go your way. you think he’s only ever seen you smiling and speaking politely with everyone, if he’s even been looking. that’s good, you don’t want him to find you bothersome. you’ve been doing your best to appear sophisticated around him.

…

no amount of complaining and whining could prepare you for when bakugou turns around and grabs at your wrist.

bakugou’s too close again—things are suddenly eventful.

“too damn slow, are you trying to get lost?” he grumbles as he pulls you through the throng of people, and you smile weakly, internally telling yourself to get your act together and not let on how frazzled you feel at that moment.

you don’t know whether it’s your own skin heating up under his touch, or if his quirk is responsible. for a moment, it reminds you of when he asked you if you’re using your quirk on him. it’s sudden enough that it makes you snort under your breath before you catch yourself. he gives you a quizzical look out of the corner of his eye, and you shrug, smiling lightly. that sates his curiosity, and he looks ahead again as he moves towards a predetermined destination.

it’s a lot easier to deal with his hand against yours after that. eventually, he lets go, and you find yourself missing the warmth for a moment.

the warmth completely leaves you when you find yourself in front of—

“a haunted house.”

“congrats. we’re going in. let’s see how shitty it is.”

you get the sinking suspicion that he plans to rip everyone’s confidence to shreds, and you don’t want to be around for that, but he doesn’t give you a chance to protest. you’re not supposed to be overstaying your welcome or overstepping your boundaries either, so you resign yourself to following him around quietly and perhaps apologising to his victims if he goes too far.

you’re his only victim.

you only make your way through a few scares before you get the scare.

bakugou katsuki promptly turns to you, glaring. you, being the genius that you are, take a step away from him. this continues till you’re best friends with the wall, and you try not to panic at the feeling of something slimy now clinging to your shoulder.

how can you, anyway? you’ve got bakugou staring at you with a contemplative look, almost as if he’s looking into your very soul.

“you talked to the idiot.”

“there are many idiots,” you mumble, knowing full well which idiot he’s referring to. you hope kaminari hasn’t tricked you yet again. did bakugou put him up to that conversation— there are too many things you don’t feel you have in yourself to think about.

something changes, then, and he lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. he seems agitated, almost awkward, and you wonder why.

“you piss me off.”

huh? is he talking about how much you get in his way and bother him and make things hard for him and—

“kirishima told me.”

…did another person figure out about your crush? kirishima’s always seemed really sweet, and you don’t think he’s the kind that would deliberately spill any secrets. it wouldn’t be manly, right?

“he told me i should apologise.”

“huh?” you really can’t hold it in. why is he the one apologising? shouldn’t you…? and why is he apologising by telling you that you piss him off?

“he said i shouldn’t have put you on the spot and then avoided you. dunno why he thinks he has any say in the matter but you know what i realised? maybe you think like that too. maybe you’re,” he spreads apart his fingers before making a fist and scowling at it, “hurt. and you really did avoid me after that.”

you don’t say anything, still stuck on how constipated he’d looked just moments ago. you’re not supposed to be amused right now.

“oi, say something. aren’t you gonna deny it?”

still nothing.

“say something before i leave this place without you.” your incredulity shows on your face, and he huffs, “what do you want?”

“i… i don’t need an apology… everything’s okay…” it’s not, but you don’t want him to look further into this. there’s no point. “i’m not hurt, bakugou. there’s no reason for you to apologise.”

“then why’re you still acting so jumpy? i told you, just forget about what the electric idiot said and go on merrily through life. i told him not to bring it up with you again.”

“he said you told them i like you.”

he mutters something under his breath, no doubt cursing his friend out after you throw him under the bus. but he doesn’t let it affect him, straightening up again as he looks at you.

“miscalculation,” he shrugs, “i told them to drop it after you said you didn’t.”

“you believe me?” you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but it slips out before you can stop yourself.

“no shit. you telling me you lied?”

you gulp. all of a sudden, the slimy wall is so interesting!

“stop avoiding my eyes, dammit!” bakugou comments, frustrated, and you inhale sharply.

“stop making me so nervous, then!”

uh oh. you shouldn’t have said that. it’s the game changer.

“i make you nervous?”

you don’t answer, hoping he drops it. he doesn’t, and he repeats the question. still, you can’t crumble just because he looks impatient, and you shrug non-committally. something tells you that the situation is steadily turning against you.

”hey, tell me. i make you nervous?” his grin is absolutely roguish as he waits for you to answer.

you still don’t speak, telling yourself that you won’t rise to the bait, you won’t respond to him because you’ve said way more than you needed to—

“weakling,” he sing-songs, and your jaw clenches.

“being nervous around someone isn’t necessarily a sign of weakness, bakugou. sometimes it’s also a sign of being wise.” there goes your plan.

“hah, are you saying that you’re wise for being nervous and avoiding me? what am i gonna do, eat you?”

“i don’t know, maybe executive some explosive murderous strategies?”

“i wouldn’t do that,” he spits out, running a hand through his hair. why is every pore of him screaming agitation? “it’s no fun defeating you when we’re not even competing.”

“oh really? then what’s your idea of fun?”

“when you tell me i make you nervous even though i’m not doing anything.”

“aren’t you supposed to be apologising to me?”

he snorts, “never. i only told you what some idiot thinks. but i can understand why you avoid me, i make you nervous after all.”

his self-satisfied laughter infuriates you, yet makes your own lips twitch.

he lets out a put-upon sigh, and scuffles the floor with his shoe.

“me too, dumbass.”

“huh?”

“you make me nervous too, idiot.”

“huh?”

face mere centimetres away from yours, he lowers his voice to a whisper, “i’ll only say this once, so keep your ears open if you want to know. i miscalculated. i thought you had a thing for me because you didn’t meet my damn eyes always gave pretty answers whenever you talked to me. but you didn’t. i was…” he gulps before clearing his throat, sounding far too aggressive in that moment before he practically grits out: “projecting. i was projecting because i’m apparently into you.”

you stare at him speechlessly. try as you might, you can’t think of a response. you don’t even know what he means by the last bit. surely he couldn’t mean…? why you, of all people? but you’re worried he might leave, his threat from earlier still rings clear. so you resign yourself into taking his words at face value and admitting the truth.

no, it’s not resignation. it’s the resolve you’ve been lacking for a while now, finally coming together after hearing that from bakugou. even if this is a cruel prank, you’ll survive. you just need to get it out before it consumes you and ends up being a what-if, years down the line.

“you may have projected, but it wasn’t a miscalculation. it’s… not entirely… unreciprocated. the feeling is mutual, you could say.”

it’s out now, and you’re alright. the ground doesn’t swallow you up, bakugou katsuki doesn’t blast you headfirst into slimy walls. nothing happens. the moment remains suspended in time, or perhaps time is suspended in that moment.

bakugou’s eyes narrow as he mulls over your words. he glares at you again. it’s muted.

“if it’s reciprocated, shouldn’t you be doing your best to cling to me every chance you get?”

him being reasonable and quiet puts you at ease. the words come out more easily.

“shouldn’t you have done the same?” he scoffs at your question, but doesn’t offer a response, so you continue, ”bakugou, you know why you avoided me, and i know why i avoided you. i didn’t want to get in your way. and i didn’t want anyone else to catch onto it.”

“was deku in on it?”

you know how he’ll respond if he knows midoriya had an inkling before him, so you hastily dispel the suspicion from his mind.

“you said you don’t know me well.”

“bakugou, you didn’t even remember me when we first met,” you reason with him, and he scowls. “it applies to both of us; we really don’t know each other enough.”

taking a deep breath, you continue, “as for the rest of it, i panicked. i admit i didn’t deal with the conversation as well as i should’ve, and some of the things that i said weren’t the nicest. i know it was hurtful even to kaminari, but i couldn’t help it.”

bakugou scoffs, “if anyone’s hurting, it’s only him. not that he has any reason to be.”

you wince as you’re reminded of the texts the boy sent you. now that you’re thinking clearly, you feel slightly bad for having been cold to him, and lied. but there are bigger matters at hand.

“you actually remember that conversation?”

“no shit, why else would i ask?”

“but… why? why do you remember it? that makes me feel a little guil–ty…” you trail off as sparks fly off his fingers, the explosion possibly unintentional. it allows you to see his face clearly in the dark, and the red tint to his ears surprises you. he’s glaring at the wall, not meeting your eyes, and your heart promptly melts.

“aw, bakugou, i didn’t know you cared—”

“shut the hell up!”

you wait for him to calm down as he sets off more explosions, but the smile on your face refuses to leave. he doesn’t seem to mind it either even as he glares at you, because there’s no harshness in his eyes.

“this doesn’t mean we’re dating,” he eventually declares, and you raise an eyebrow. “i won’t spend my time on things like that. we like each other, big deal.”

“i just said whatever you feel is not entirely unreciprocated. who says i like you?” you ask in a rare show of humour as you roll your eyes teasingly. sobering up, you nod slightly, “you could’ve worded it better, but i understand what you mean.” you hold up a hand to stop him from interrupting you. “don’t worry, i have no intention of getting in the way of something you’ve wanted practically your entire life, bakugou. it’d be stupid of me. and i know neither of us are ready for that level of commitment yet. it’s enough if we— you know…” you look at him pointedly, not wanting to utter the words. but it’s bakugou katsuki, and he’s run out of patience from after all the teasing you’ve subjected him to.

“it’s enough if we what—? tell me, i don’t know.” he leans in again, the petty side of him thriving. you’re starting to get used to his proximity; it’s what you tell yourself but you barely stop yourself from averting your eyes.

“i’m just saying it’s enough if we like each other. we can get to know each other slowly and that’s it. we don’t need to jump into something that has a low success rate in the first place.” he gives you an incredulous stare, and you elaborate, whistling, “high school flings are mostly just flings, bakugou.” it’s not the truth, but it’s not entirely a lie.

he makes a face at you. eventually, he exhales.

“so? you like me? can i ‘pass it off’ as that?”

“will you ever let that go?” you groan, and he only responds with a cocky tilt to his lips. “yes, i like you. i wonder why i do,” you huff. “why’d you bring me to a haunted house of all places?”

“so you could get scared and beg me to save you.”

(you make a note to yourself to tell uraraka later that it wasn’t a date. but truthfully, you’re not disappointed about that.)

you stare at him, unamused. “you scare me much more than any haunted house could.”

“then stop getting scared!”

from the way his face is angled away from yours, you’d almost think he’s pouting. your eyes move between his face and the steam—

you wait for his hand to stop steaming before reaching forward and taking hold of it.

you give him a wry smile.

he returns the gesture with the same wild eyes and disarming grin that first drew you to him.

…

word got out that someone had been threatening a visitor in the haunted house. bakugou’s friends are convinced that you both had another fallout—kaminari is too scared to even look in your direction. good for you, because he misses every time you and bakugou lock eyes.

you frequently find yourself stifling laughter.

— note :: thanks for reading!! :) please let me know how this was; a lot of effort went into it and I’m not sure how to feel about this, so feedback is really appreciated! :)

— taglist :: @kur0samu​ ; @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law​ & @sorrythatspussynal​ ; @i-need-air​. If you want to be removed from or added to my taglist (for bnha or all works), please send an ask. :)

[troublesomeshika]

After all this time, I'm still into you

shikamaru nara x reader word count: 2k warnings: i think there’s one swear word?

You two had grown up together. You’d been the yin to his yang, that was the joke you two always heard. You had energy for days, and he was the laziest person in the village. Although you were able to get him moving, he somehow always managed to get you to mellow out. You were the only one who could pull Shikamaru from his spot cloud watching and force him to play ninja with you. He was the only one able to talk you out of your crazy ideas. He held you back from danger, and you pushed him out of his comfort zone. It was a perfectly balanced friendship.

In your academy days, you were able to keep Shikamaru paying attention in class, even if he did sleep for most of it. He likely wouldn’t have passed without you there by his side, bouncing your leg throughout the class. And whenever you’d get too excited to focus, he was able to ground you and make you concentrate on your work. Once you were placed on separate teams, it was harder to keep up your friendship, but something drew you back time and again, and it seemed to be the same for him. He’d see you running around the village and convince you to take the rest of the day off to watch clouds with him. You’d check up on him if you hadn’t seen him around, usually finding him napping. Forcing him to spar with you was the easiest way to get him up and moving, even if he did beat you most times. He knew how you fought, and even if you knew how he fought, you weren’t really one for complicated plans of attack. You weren’t quite as bad as Naruto, but you also weren’t hard to predict. The loser always bought lunch afterwards, and more often than not, your wallet was lighter after spending the day with him. The few times you’d managed to beat him, you’d held it over his head for weeks, not letting him forget until he’d managed to beat you again in retaliation. Through the years, you maintained this dynamic. No one was quite sure how you could motivate him so well and they’d often shake their heads at your polar opposite personalities, sure that one day the differences would be too much. But he was always your lazy best friend. Then you’d gotten into a relationship with Kiba. He perfectly matched your energy and was always up for a good fight. You two were unstoppable and you’d accidentally caused damage to the village more than once. But as you got closer to Kiba, you began to drift away from Shikamaru. Sure the two of you still got together now and then to swap stories and have lunch, but you had less time to seek him out, and turned him down more and more because of dates with Kiba. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be friends, but you both had more and more demands on your time, and Shikamaru’s friendship had just...... become less of a priority in your mind. You felt confident that you’d always be best friends though, you’d been through too much together not to be. 

Eventually, your relationship with Kiba ended. You both loved each other, but a good relationship needs balance, and that just wasn’t possible between you two. Luckily, you’d both realized and parted on good terms. That hadn’t made it hurt any less. And so you’d turned to your best friend. Except that, he couldn’t be there. Not in the way you needed him. You’d drifted far, and although there was still love, you just didn’t quite know each other as well as you once did. But he’d reintroduced you to Ino, and you’d quickly hit it off. It began mostly with a mutual hate of Shikamaru’s laziness, but you’d gone on to bond more and more after that. You began to regularly visit the flower shop Ino worked at to go for lunch. Walking in you called out to her, “Inooooo! You ready to go?”

“Yep! Gimme a minute to hang up my apron.” She smiled, stepping to the back room, “Mom! I’m heading out for lunch, the register is unsupervised!” You heard a voice call back, but couldn’t make out the words. “Whatever, she knows.” Ino shrugged, stepping out from behind the counter. She looped her arm through yours. “Where to?”

“I don’t know, where do you wanna go?” 

“I think Choji had mentioned that he and Shikamaru were gonna try out that new barbeque place that just opened- wanna see if they’re there?” 

You grinned at the thought of barbeque, “Sounds good to me, let’s go!” And with that, the two of you strolled off. 

You weren’t excited to see Shikamaru, it was still awkward between you, but Ino seemed to want to hang out with her team, and who were you to stop her just because you were afraid of an awkward silence. As you walked over to the restaurant, you made small talk with Ino, telling her about the mission you’d just gotten back from. “Ugh, I can’t wait till Lady Tsunade sends us out again. I’m so tired of sitting in that flower shop everyday!” Ino groaned, rolling her eyes. “Like, I’m happy to have something to do I guess, but it gets really old really- Oh there they are!” she raised a hand, spotting the two boys sitting at a table. “Hey! Got room for two more?” she pulled you over with her. “Yeah of course, are you gonna pay?” Choji asked, grinning. 

Slapping his arm, Ino sat down next to him. “Of course not, pay for your own food!” She smiled at you, nodding towards the seat across from her, next to Shikamaru. You grabbed the chair and slid it out, sitting down. “So, what’ve you guys been up to on our time off?” Ino started. 

“Nothing much, I learned how to bake which has been awesome. Now I can have cake whenever I want!” Choji exclaimed, smiling. “Nice, Shikamaru?” Ino looked to the boy next to you. 

“Ehh, just been laying around mostly.” Ino seemed satisfied and launched into a conversation with Choji. You chuckled and under your breath said, “Now who’s surprised at that.” You kept your eyes trained on the menu, searching for a meal you liked.

“Yeah well, at least I can relax.” you heard quietly from beside you. 

Your head shot up, looking at Shikamaru. “Oh? Well, there is a difference between relaxing and becoming one with your bed you know.” You cocked an eyebrow at him. His mouth twitched, a small smirk betraying him. “Mmm you’ve got me there. One of these days you’ll run out of fuel and end up sleeping for days, and when that happens I won’t let you forget it.”

“Yeah no, sleeping for days? Sounds like a drag.” You grinned, teasing him just like you used to, this time, feeling your cheeks heat slightly.

He side-eyed you, grinning, “You and your mouth never stop moving, isn’t it troublesome to be always going?” 

You opened your mouth, pretending to be offended, but before you could reply, the waiter showed up to take everyone’s orders. The rest of lunch passed in casual conversation with the table, as you avoided looking at Shikamaru. It felt good to trade insults again, but something was still different, it wouldn’t ever really be the same, and you knew you held most of the blame for that. 

When lunch finished, you offered to walk Ino back to the flower shop. She agreed, and you bade Choji and Shikamaru goodbye. Turning your backs on the restaurant, Ino grinned at you. “So?” You just continued walking, “So what?” 

She groaned, “You and Shikamaru! Didn’t it feel good to be just like the old days? I remember how you two always were.” She knocked her shoulder against yours. “Haha, yeah I guess....” you trailed off, staring at the feet. “I don’t know though. It’s just not the same you know? It’s different. There’s still.... distance between us.” 

Ino rolled her eyes, “You know, I still wonder, how did you two even get so far?” 

“Hah, I don’t. It’s my fault really,” you proceeded to spill the beans on how you’d chosen your relationship with Kiba over Shikamaru’s friendship. “And now we’re basically strangers compared to how close we used to be. I hate it but, it is what it is, there’s no going back.”

She nodded silently before asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss?” 

You chuckled remembering the day. A soft blush covered your cheeks thinking of how embarrassed and nervous you’d been. Shikamaru had asked you after school, and you’d agreed to be his first kiss. You’d been hoping it meant that he felt something for you, but looking back, you knew it was just your schoolgirl crush clouding your thoughts. “Yeah, but that was just because we were both awkward kids and wanted to get it out of the way with someone we trusted, you know?” Ino scoffed. “Hey, Shikamaru was the one who had suggested it. You know he never saw me like that. And I felt that way for like, 3 months tops. Well, okay maybe more like 5 months.” Ino stopped in her tracks. You turned around, staring at her. “What’s wrong, did you forget something?” 

“God you’re dumb Y/N.” She shook her head. “You really think Shikamaru just ‘wanted to get it out of the way’? I wish I lacked critical thinking, you seem so happy.” 

“Hey what the hell?” Your brow furrowed. “He did!! He called first kisses “a drag” and said it was better to just be done with it!”

Ino walked over, grabbing your hands. “Sweet sweet Y/N. So much energy, so few brain cells. He liked you. For a long time. Anyone could see it!” 

You shook your head, laughing, “Ino, I really don’t know what you think you saw, but we were best friends. Nothing else.” “Y/N,” She stared into your eyes, “when you started dating Kiba? He wasn’t just put out because you pulled away. He never actually said it, and he seemed to think he was hiding it,” she chuckled, “honestly I don’t know if he knew. But seeing you with Kiba, and the fact that you pulled away,” she pursed her lips, “it wasn’t a great time for him.” 

You were shocked. You didn’t quite believe her about his feelings, but the idea that you’d caused him so much trouble and hurt brought tears to your eyes, which threatened to spill over. You shook your head and began walking away. “Ino, I just remembered I have some errands to run,” you raised a hand in farewell, “I’ll... see you soon.” 

Your mind was going a million miles an hour, and even though you hadn’t lied, you did have errands to run, you weren’t going to get anything done. You walked, without knowing where you were going. You were lost in your thoughts, and you allowed your feet to steer you wherever they wanted to go. Finally looking up, you found yourself at a familiar clearing. Smiling sadly, you reminisced over the days you’d spent here when you were younger. Sure you were still always going, but your body had gotten better at knowing when you needed to take a break. And now, almost at a breaking point, your body had brought you back here, to the place you’d relaxed a thousand times. This time though, you laid down by yourself, feeling the grass prickling against your back. Staring up at the sky, you breathed deeply, trying to organize your thoughts. Clouds passed by quickly and the wind played with the hair around your face. “After all this time, Shikamaru?” you covered your face with your hands and groaned, “I can’t believe I’m still into you, this sucks. I was so sure it was nothing but a childhood crush, and now? Ugh.” You laid there, slowly drifting off into a nap you desperately needed. When you cracked open your eyes and sat up, the sun had disappeared and only lights twinkled in the village. You sighed, “Get it together, Y/N.” You weren’t sure if you were going to apologize, confess, or something else, but you knew you needed to see him. And so, standing up, you began your walk of shame towards the Nara compound.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

i just really enjoy listening to paramore and writing angst. honestly it’s not even that angsty imo, i was gonna make it worse but the writing gods said not to. n e ways, hope you enjoy!!

- ☆