#this was supposed to be a photo/color study but i got distracted
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listenerofpodcasts · 4 months ago
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our neon lights, they look like stars
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closeups under the cut
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lokilysolbitch · 2 months ago
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i really don't understand non adhd peoples advice to ppl with adhd. "just put all the distractions away" ?????????? literally what. do y'all,,,do y'all??? need???? physical distractions to be distracted??????? ????????????
like what is supposed to happen. okay so i took my phone out of the room. that wasn't the main distraction anyways bc i was staring at the wifi signal on my laptop and tracing the bars with my nail. clear the display?? i mean sure but i've already moved on to thinking about the font of the o's on the textbook. they have like. thin lines for the top and bottom parts but the rest is kinda thick. i should try that pomodoro study thing i saw a while ago. when was that like ten years ago?? damn thats old. i was like twelve. i had this one music teacher when i was twelve and she used to use these colorful pens on the sheet music and i'd always be like why are you writing on music with pen how will you erase that but to be fair it was really pretty and like i get it now bc i got a bunch of markers recently and they're so fun. i'm trying to learn to draw and i'm not sure if my art style is more colorful or like pencil sketches because i like color but i always default to pencil sketches and then never color it. i should make a tumblr post about that sometime. maybe later tho because i'm busy right now. oh shit yeah i'm supposed to be studying. how has it been twenty minutes already. oh wait i was supposed to clear my display silly me. where's the button for that even. hmmm where's settings oh i saw this one video about settings the other day but it was really confusing i think it was supposed to be a joke or something. it was kind of funny tho and i looked at the account and the whole page was just about settings like imagine if i did that with photos or something like how do you come up with that but at the same time i kinda g
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were-wolverine · 8 months ago
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Birdflash Week (Day 4)
Villain AU
@birdflashweek
Wally watched as Batman pulled up a profile on the screen at the front of the Watchtower’s conference room. According to the Bat’s reports, there was a new Rogue on the loose that knew the Justice League’s secret identities. So far they hadn’t gone to the media, luckily, but in the meantime they had built up quite the reputation in Gotham (along with a pile of bodies).
The profile showed a masked man, likely about Wally’s age, in a black and blue suit. There was a symbol on his chest, and two stripes of color down his arms and gloves. That was all he could tell from the extremely blurry photo, though. Apparently he went by the alias ‘Shadow’ and had been traveling the world quite a bit before settling in Gotham.
“Do we know how he find out our identities?” Superman asked, tone grave.
To any normal person it would look like Batman replied with a simple “No,” but with his superspeed Wally was able to catch the briefest hint of hesitation before the man responded. Which was… unsettling. Batman never hesitated, ever. Something was definitely up with this Rogue.
Batman continued to brief them all on the situation, but seemed fairly confident the masked man wouldn’t reveal their identities to the public. That, at least, was comforting. The rest, not so much. It seemed like this Rogue was taking more of an anti-hero approach at least, only killing criminals that were repeat offenders or the worst of the worst. Of course, killing was always bad, but at least this guy wasn’t harming civilians or heroes.
As the meeting dispersed and Wally zeta’d back to Keystone, he couldn’t help but wonder about the new Rogue, and how exactly he knew the League’s identities- which was one of the most carefully kept secrets in the entire world- and why he (however thankfully) hadn’t just released them to the media.
His thoughts about the man kept him distracted enough that he didn’t notice someone else was in his apartment until he was already in it with them. And, because he had shit luck, it was the Rogue he had just been wondering about. Eh, he was never one for subtlety anyway.
“Hey, why didn’t you release our identities to the public?” he asked the man, who cocked his head and studied him before replying.
“I don’t actually want villains to hurt you or your loved ones. I was just proving a point to B, telling him something only I would know,” he explained, much to Wally’s surprise.
“…Oh. Um. What?” Wally asked, beyond confused.
“Plus I wanted to mess with the League a bit I suppose. Not you though, Wally,” he smiled warmly at the speedster and Wally felt a rush of familiarity at the sight.
“Have we… met? Before?” the redhead asked somewhat desperately. There was something about the man before him that Wally just recognized on a bone-deep level. The man’s kind smile turned into a delighted grin and he pulled a stunned Wally into a hug.
“I knew you would remember me! I told Dami but he didn’t believe me. We were best friends for almost a decade, of course you’d remember me,” he rambled excitedly. The speedster froze in his arms and sucked in a sharp breath, pulling away to face the man once more.
“…‘Wing?” he asked, voice breaking at the end.
Nightwing nodded enthusiastically and was pulled back into a crushing hug.
“I thought… everyone assumed you were dead but I refused to believe it, but then so many years passed and Batman never said anything… I’m so sorry,” Wally whispered.
“Hey, hey no it’s not your fault. I should have told you all that I was leaving after Jay died, I’m sorry. I wasn’t in a good headspace and it only got worse and then… after everything I’ve done… I didn’t think you would want me back,” Dick admitted softly.
“Of course we would, dumbass. Of course I would,” he emphasized, leaning his forehead against the shorter man’s.
“I’m sorry I left,” Dick replied, holding him tighter.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re back now, and nothing is going to come between us again,” Wally promised, and leaned down to press a kiss to the other man’s lips, which was eagerly returned.
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lesless · 6 months ago
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Looking back at old photos & one thing stands out: I was really into myself in a really positive way for a while there. I didn't feel superior necessarily, but I did just really like myself with the fresh fervor of someone who recently learned to love myself instead of hate myself. Lately I have felt--I don't know, less confident? That doesn't seem like the right word for it. Less sure that I am in a big way. Maybe just not as infatuated with myself. Or, maybe just more concerned with who I am in relation to others, which I suppose is appropriate for this period of my life, settling into being "an adult." But looking back at the old me, I was embracing the joy, when I had it, with clenched fists. I am ignited to lean back into that & away from this uncertainty that has me chasing shadows in some respects.
I took my vitamins today, I walked, I studied, I got things done at work, I deep cleaned the oven. Tomorrow I have a final and some emails to send, but life is already slowing just in time to embrace myself with more focus. I am delighted by how far I've come since I was so very sad & sick, I am re-inspired by the person I turned myself into, & I know I'm still her, perhaps just tired or distracted by the myriad of things that can distract a person. The waver of self love isn't evidence of anything more than the pitch & yaw of focus, so I will refocus.
I hope if you too have momentarily lost sight of the vibrancy of your own colors you take a moment to clean the lens.
#me
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patchwork-artists · 10 days ago
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@beep-beep-beep-beep-beep i actually did send my friends some photos of the process! here you go
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i started sketching just the last frame, where i wanted to go. i also did the bg here already.
originally i was gonna animate his third hand but i felt like itd look confusing with his other arm. i was also originally gonna make him heavy breathe, as if he had been underwater running from a monster or something and quickly went back up. i just thought the breathing would be fun to animate, but then when i got to the arms it covered most of his stomach so that didnt work out.
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then i did the beggining. he begins submerged but i consider this the actual beggining
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i finished animating the basics of his movement- neck, hair, ears, antenna, and then i went to the water waves under him. i saved that layer as water 1 and then i went to water 2
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water 2 was mainly focused on the water drops down his body, but still not the splashes
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i didnt save a video but i animated first etirely his right arm, and then i animated his left arm. i made the camera movement, messed it up, deleted everything, then redid the camera movement.
then the last thing i did was add the splashes, a few clothing details like the shoulder folds, the third arm, and cleaned up the lines that you can see but shouldnt bc hes supposed to be over them, like the background or the torso that should be covered by his arm. i also decided to make all of the water on a gray line for more readability, which was annoying to do because adobe wasnt reading that i wanted an entire layer to change its color so i had to change them frame by frame each layer (which was like 3 to 5 layers)
on all of that, i kept turning the camera movement on and off, on to see how a specific animation would look on the final version with camera movement, and off to properly animate it and fix it without distraction. the camera movement was just generally decided to make the movement flow better, it just leads your eye and feels much more dynamic :3 im a big fan of studying subtle camera movement in animation for impact of a movement, like when a character screams and the camera shakes
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i'm surprised this gained as much attention as it did! thank you all so much! maybe i should do more one day animation exercises
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1 day animation exercise!
69 frames, 11 layers, 7 hours
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outercrasis · 3 years ago
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Sessions
Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: None (let me know if I missed something!)
Summary: Everyone is talking about the mysterious new guy on campus
A/N: I had a ton of fun writing this extremely self-indulgent AU and I have plans to keep writing more about these two. It won’t be an actual chaptered fic, but at some point I’ll throw together a masterlist with a chronological order to things.
Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Introductions
The semester had only started four weeks ago and he was already a legend around campus. Almost everywhere someone could be found whispering about him. You'd even heard faculty speculating, wondering about the rumors they overheard their students sharing.
You first heard of him in your literature seminar, some of your fellow classmates discussing a recent rumor about the now fabled man. Something about a motorcycle and a child caught your ear, prompting you to interrupt and the girls in front of you who they were talking about. 
The looks you received from the pair were incredulous at best. “You mean you haven’t heard about him?”
“Heard about who?” you asked, genuinely confused. It had only been the first week of class at the time and you were too caught up with your own busy start to check in on the rumor mill.
“Mando, obviously. He’s all anyone is talking about.” From there the girls had happily filled you in on all the latest sightings and rumors. 
Mando, as they called him, was shrouded in mystery. He'd popped up on Corellia University's campus when the semester began and no one knew a thing about him. He hadn't gone to Corellia before, internet searches turned up nothing, and even the skull-like symbol on the back of his leather jacket wasn't familiar to anyone. Any information on him was conjecture at best and there was plenty to go around. Once the rest of the class caught onto what you three were discussing, theories began to fly.
People discussed how he’d been spotted downtown, beating on some guys in a back alley. He’d also been seen uptown the same night though, strolling through Basalt Park. One girl was nearly certain that she’d gone to elementary school with Mando, but he’d mysteriously disappeared one day without explanation. Someone else was confident he was just a cop trying some weird shtick to go undercover. Then one person insisted he had a kid with him sometimes while another was trying to explain that he was actually a murderer. The rumors only became more ludicrous from there.
By the end of the discussion you only ascertained two things for certain. He went by the name Mando and he wore some kind of special helmet. Information you could have gotten by watching him pick up a drink at the Java Hut. Not nearly enough to warrant this level of fervor in your opinion.
From there, hearing about Mando was inescapable. You got home that night only to have your roommate and best friend, Layla, launch into theories about him. Within the week someone set up a social media page to try and track his location around campus via DMs fellow students sent in. That had struck you as invasive and unsettling, but the messages about him kept flooding in.
By pure chance, you had yet to actually see him for yourself. There weren't even any creep shots for you to look at. People had been trying to take photos of him, but he was like a ghost. In the time it took them to pull up their cameras he'd disappear. 
There wasn't even more concrete information about him beyond what you'd learned that first day. Just more and more speculation, a good amount of it made up purely for the shock factor. Another week slipped by, the semester picking up, and Mando news became standard in your day. There was always something new going around about him and as much as you tried to avoid it and focus on your studies, you couldn’t help but wonder about him yourself.
Who was this guy? Was this all some stunt or ‘social experiment’ that would be revealed by a sociology student at the end of the semester? Or was he a legitimate peculiarity, doomed to stick out like a sore thumb? You weren’t sure if you should hate him for making a big deal out of himself or pity him for all the unwarranted attention. Either way, you were sure that whenever you met this enigmatic Mando, you’d know.
×××××
You grumble looking at the submission form. The name and student ID information is blank again. You told Todd last week those fields needed to be made mandatory. How else were you supposed to know who to email when you end up with a no-show for the hour?
Looking further down you're pleased to note that they're at least a grad student. Despite the unfinished form, graduates almost never skip sessions like these. You're thrilled to have the opportunity to discuss something other than freshman composition for once. It's fun helping the wide-eyed freshies, but you can only go over basic comma rules so many times before you start to lose it a little.
There's a knock at the study room door and you look up only to be rendered speechless. It's him. Mando. With a kid on his hip. So Alissandra hadn’t been lying when she told you about the toddler she saw with him. Interesting. Continuing to take him in, you can’t help but focus on the obvious - the only thing you knew about him other than his supposed name, the helmet. 
It’s unlike anything you've seen before. You're fairly certain it's a motorcycle helmet, but it's been modified. Rather than the typical rounded shape, his is all sharp angles and flat at the front. It’s colored a sleek, shining chrome that gleams under the washed out fluorescent lighting. Most arresting is the way he's changed the face of the helmet. The cheeks dip inward at a sharp angle, creating deep, curved contours. His visor is a T of black glass in the center, entirely impossible to see through. It's intimidating and… kinda hot?
The little boy he's holding starts to wiggle in his grasp, physically demanding to be set down in the study room. Once his feet touch the floor, he immediately runs over and climbs into the chair next to you. He's a welcome distraction from his father’s? brother's? guardian's? commanding presence in the room.
The boy can't be older than three, smiling up at you with a wide toothy grin. His hair is covered by a green beanie with large floppy ears sewn onto it and he's wearing a little brown jacket with a sherpa collar. Maybe a bit too heavy for the early autumnal weather, but if the rumor that the kid rides on a motorcycle with Mando is true, it’s perfect. His eyes are large and brown, shining up at you with a slightly mischievous glint.
"Hello, what's your name?" you ask, smiling back at the child.
"Grogu," comes the reply, not from the kid, but from Mando.
You arch an eyebrow at him. He can't be serious with that name. "Grogu?" you ask.
He shrugs, placing his bag on the table. "I came home one day and he told his babysitter that was his name now. He won't respond to anything else. So, Grogu."
You look back to the bouncing toddler. He's still grinning, nodding along with what's been said about his name. They must not be lying then. Either that, or it was some elaborate prank between them and you would never be in on the joke. 
"Well okay, Grogu it is." 
You extend your hand out to Mando, offering your name alongside it. He offers a leather clad hand in return, giving you a firm handshake. You're pleased when he only gives your hand a gentle squeeze, not crushing it like so many other students have done. His gloves are unique as well, black with orange fingers, the leather well worn in. It's warm to the touch, his body heat radiating through the thick fabric. 
"Mando," he says, officially introducing himself as he takes the seat on your other side, across from Grogu.
"Mando," you repeat, cementing it as a truth from the rumor mill. "Got any other names?" You hope that comes across as casual and not intrusive. He hasn't even gone to remove his helmet, telling you he isn't a man who cares much for people prying into his business.
"No. Why?" Mando cocks his head slightly as he asks, the helmet adding an exaggerated look to the movement. He reaches into his bag, pulls out some crayons and a pad of paper, pushing them over to Grogu.
You shrug, trying not to think about how you heard his name might be David from someone in your composition course. "Just thought I'd ask. One hears many things around campus and it's hard to tell what's true or not."
"What do you mean?"
That question makes you pause. Surely he knows. Part of you is still convinced he’s doing this act on purpose, trying to gain notoriety for some reason. The way he asked though, something about it tells you that the poor man is clueless about the buzz he's caused.
"Mando, you're like the talk of the town right now. We only just met but I've heard plenty about you," you explain. It's hard to tell with the helmet on, but you're fairly sure he's shocked underneath. Grogu ignores you both, excitedly scribbling away on his paper.
"I'm fairly sure most of it's just rumor and speculation, but still. You're like a thing around campus," you add.
He's quiet for a moment, his laptop only half out of his bag. "Oh," he finally says. "I didn't know."
Grogu gives a happy shriek not a second later, breaking the awkward tension that had begun to creep into the room. He's beaming, holding up his crayola masterpiece. On the paper there is what appears to be a hastily drawn frog using every color in the box.
Mando returns to himself, pulling his laptop the rest of the way and continues to get set up. "Great job, kid. It looks good."
Most people would have said that dismissively, a platitude to get their child to stop bothering them. When Mando says it though, the authenticity is palpable. He said six words and you can hear the pride lacing them all together. It’s sweet, the obvious affection this clearly private man has for the toddler. 
You can’t help but wonder what his connection to Grogu actually is. The way he spoke just then, if you had to put your money on it, you’d say father. The kicker then though is if he’s biological or not. And if not, then how else does a grad student get strapped with a three year old? Thinking about all the potential scenarios is enough to make your head hurt.
You’re also left wondering where all the more violent rumors about him are coming from. His tenderness is so readily on display that it’s hard to imagine the man before you choking someone because they cut him in line at the local froyo shop. He’s mysterious and gives off a vaguely dangerous vibe, sure, but less than five minutes around him and the kid and it’s obvious he’s no threat to you. He’s just a guy trying to get his assignments done for class, same as everyone else.
Your stomach still catches in your throat as Mando starts unexpectedly tugging off his gloves. From what you’d heard, he never takes anything off: not his jacket, not his gloves, and certainly not his helmet. All anyone knows of his true appearance on campus is that he’s obviously male with rumors flying around about everything else including simple attributes, like the color of his skin. Now, here he is, casually revealing this groundbreaking information to you.
His hands move fluidly, pulling off each glove in just a few easy tugs. His skin matches the heat you felt from them just minutes ago, a warm golden tan, with a few faded lines of scars worn in. Watching him type, pulling his paper up for you to discuss, you feel a deep and sudden ache to have his hands touch you again. A simple handshake is no longer enough. Every stroke of the keys is measured, deliberate, and leaves you wondering how he would use those fingers on you.
“This is what I have so far.”
His voice snaps you back to reality, a quick wave of shame washing over you. Where did all of that come from? It was just a man’s hands for heaven’s sake, certainly not something you should be horny about at two in the afternoon. Not to mention that he came in here looking for your help, not wanting you to start fantasizing about his hands expertly working you over.
You clear your throat and tear your eyes away from the offending appendages. “Great, let me just read the introduction here so I can get an idea for what you’re writing about.”
You settle into working with him easily. His paper is already well-written, just needing tweaks here and there to bring it to the next level. It’s nice working with him. He’s attentive, clearly listening to everything you have to say and taking it into account. He doesn’t even try to challenge you as some of the more macho male students are wont to do. By the end of the session, you can’t help but wish all of your time as a tutor was that easy.
“Thank you,” he says sincerely, tucking his laptop away. “You really helped.”
You smile at him, thrilled with his genuine complement. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”
He finishes packing up his and Grogu’s things, with you silently lamenting as his gloves slide back on. It still feels like a ridiculous thought, but he really does have beautiful hands. There’s a small tap on your arm and you look to your left to see Grogu patiently waiting. He’s offering something to you, paper outstretched in his little hands.
“Thank you,” you say, taking the sheet from him. You look at it to see a frog carefully drawn on the page. It’s not the same as the first one he showed you and Mando, this one more deliberate and thoughtful. The colors are still just as varied, but it’s obvious he took more time to think about where he was using each one. You can’t help but smile at his small masterpiece.
“It looks great, buddy. I’ll keep it forever,” you tell him. Grogu beams at your praise, excitedly looking over to Mando. 
Mando nods at the kid. “Yeah kid, I heard her too.” He turns his head towards you. “Thank you again. I’d take good care of that drawing. He’ll never forgive you if he finds out you got rid of it.”
“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” Your own boldness takes you by surprise. You have no idea where that came from, how those words spilled without a second thought. Part of you is already cringing at Mando’s potential reaction.
He surprises you once again though, holding a hand out for Grogu to take. Shouldering his backpack, you hear an amused huff of air from under the helmet. “Yeah, mesh’la, I’ll see you around.”
There isn’t a chance to reply as Mando turns, escorting his tiny charge out of the room with him. You’re a little dumbstruck, now equally surprised with him as you had been with yourself. 
And what was that name he just called you? Mesh’la? You don’t even know what language that could have been, much less the meaning. Something about his tone when he said it tells you it’s a good thing though, that he’s not secretly calling you rude names in some unknown language. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever get to find out.
.
.
.
taglist: @honestly-shite
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maybedefinitely404 · 3 years ago
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Day 30: Dukexiety
Day 30 - When you look in the mirror, you can’t see your own reflection, just your soulmate. (Never heard of this prompt before, so I guessed)
Content warnings: maybe some anxiety? Just some wholesome for ya.
Word count: 1.5k
This ficlet is dedicated to @marshymoop. 
Virgil was told he had brown hair; the color of a walnut. Sometimes if he grew it out long enough, he could just catch a glimpse of the color when it fell into his eyes. Apparently those were brown too. 
A friend of his mom’s was an artist and had drawn him when he’d turned thirteen, but it hadn’t looked right. The face staring back at him from the canvas didn’t feel like his at all. He didn’t recognize the curve to the nose or the bags under the eyes; it just looked like a stranger. The more he looked, the more uneasy he felt, and he’d tucked it into the back corner of his closet, never to look at it again.
His reflection, where he’d seen the face of his soulmate since he was a baby, was far more familiar to him.
Black hair streaked with white.
Sharp green eyes.
A smattering of freckles over olive skin.
Sometimes it was odd, smearing makeup under eyes that weren’t technically his, and trying to fix hair that was shorter than what showed in the reflection, but it was a problem everyone had until they met their soulmate. He just hoped that the dark clothes looked as good on the real him as it did on his reflection. 
 ---
Virgil was struggling to focus on the textbook paragraph in front of him when his phone chimed. It was a welcome distraction from the existential quandaries that came with Philosophy 103. Just a quick break, he promised. 
 Remus: heyyyyyyy
 Aaaand there was that plan out the window. He couldn’t care less though, studying be damned, because now his heart was pounding and a nearly painful smile was stretching his cheeks. It had been a week since Remus had messaged him, and the pent up joy was all coming out at once. 
 You’re back! He replied amidst flapping hands. How was camping? His fingers hesitated over the keyboard. 
 I missed your messages. I missed you. I was lonely.  
 He said nothing.
 Remus: i caught a squirrel. i couldn’t keep it though
 Virgil: Did you name it at least?
 That’s adorable. You’re adorable and a goof and amazing.
 Remus: Yep. Squirrely Temple
 A picture message showed up moments later, showing a surprisingly relaxed squirrel sitting in a styrofoam cup, a single peanut clasped in it’s little hands. The taker of the photo wasn’t visible, though that was to be expected. 
The next one featured what Virgil assumed was the same squirrel, this time wearing a crudely constructed paper top hat. It held another peanut, and once again seemed shockingly unconcerned. 
The photo was quickly replaced with a call screen and Virgil accepted it eagerly, still laughing.
 “Did you see the squirrel?” Remus asked excitedly, to which Virgil could only laugh harder.
 “Why is it in a hat?” He wheezed.
 “I made it out of sap and a brochure I found. I think Squirrely Temple looked rather dapper.” The grin was evident in Remus’ voice.
 “And you didn’t keep it?” Virgil inelegantly kicked his schoolwork off the bed to lay across it, grabbing his fidget cube from the side table.
 “Nah, something about preserving wildlife and not having enough room at home,” he yawned, “Me an’ Roman gave him plenty of peanuts before we left though. A whole pile on a wood stump.”
 “You sound tired,” Virgil teased. There was a small twinge in his chest at the idea of Remus going to bed already. He’d been off the grid for a week. Virgil was loath to admit, but he’d missed his friend more than expected. 
 “I think my body just sees an actual bed and the ‘tired’ protocol is,” Another yawn, “activated.”
 Virgil yawned in tandem. “You should probably sleep, then.” He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. 
 “Take your own advice, and I’ll consider. When’s the last time you got six hours of sleep?”
 “Consecutively?” 
 Remus snorted. There was a whoosh of air as he dropped onto his bed, and a brief lull in the conversation before he spoke up. “I think I’d rather talk to you than sleep, actually.”
 Damn, how was he supposed to respond to that? He pressed a cool hand to his reddening cheeks, glad the other couldn’t see him. “Wow, is that genuine emotion coming from Remus?” Virgil retorted instead. We can talk for hours if you want. I missed talking to you. 
 “My bad, I think I still have some fresh air in my system.”
 God, he’d missed him. A single week had felt like a whole year without their constant interaction and updates throughout their days. They’d only known each other for months (had it only been months?) but in that time, talking to each other had become so ingrained in their lives, it seemed wrong to not wake up with his phone blown up from messages. It was so effortless, wasting hours away but feeling like no time had passed at all. It meant the world to Virgil.
 And despite their jokes and snarky conversations, he had a feeling it meant a lot to Remus too.
 It was as if he blinked, and the sun had set in the sky. The room had gradually turned dark as ink but Virgil couldn’t be bothered to flip on the lights, not when he was so captivated by Remus’ voice as he recounted his family camping trip. He didn’t notice nor care; this was more important.
Only when Remus’ yawns grew closer and closer together did it occur to him that the other was several hours ahead, blasted timezones. It would be early morning there.
 “I think you should try to sleep,” Virgil grinned as Remus tried and failed to keep talking through another yawn.
 “Maybe,” He sighed.
 “Talk tomorrow?” For the first night in a bit, Virgil felt that same, familiar warm bubble in his chest.
 “I actually had a question for you, first.”
 Pop.
 Remus sounded uncharacteristically nervous, putting Virgil on edge instantly. Everything he’d ever done wrong flooded through his mind. Oh god, how did he find out about the third grade Christmas concert?
 “Do you want to vid chat?” He blurted.
 Virgil’s breath caught in his throat.
  “Like, tomorrow. Or not. It’s okay if not.”
 Remus never stuttered. Something about it was unbelievably adorable. 
 “Just for fun, because we haven’t before, but if you don’t want to there’s no pressure-”
 “Yes.”
 All blubbering screeched to a halt on the other end, and Virgil couldn’t decide if his predominant emotion was anxiety or excitement. Besottedness, maybe? Either way, it made his face heat up to the tips of his ears and his feet wiggle.
 “Yes?”
 “Yeah, let’s do it.”
 “Okay!” Remus let out a relieved laugh that bordered on a giggle, “When?”
 “I end classes at one tomorrow.” 
 The man murmured his way through timezone math for a moment. “Yeah! Yeah, okay! I can do that! Yes!”
 Virgil bit his lip, but a laugh made its way through anyways. “I can’t wait.”
 -----------
 Whatever confidence Virgil had developed the day before, it had completely evaporated by the next morning. His mind wandered during classes, too busy coming up with worst case scenarios. What if the connection sucked? What if they spoke over each other and it was awkward? What if they had nothing to talk about and it got awkward? What if they weren’t compatible face to face? It added a whole new layer to their relationship they hadn’t explored before.
 What if they weren’t friends by the end of it? 
 He was equal parts relieved and petrified when his final class ended and there was nothing between him and the call. The whole walk back to his dorm was spent watching the numbers on the clock tick by, each minute sending a rush of adrenaline through him until he was sure he’d collapse from nerves right there on the path way. 
A text from Remus came through three minutes before their agreed time.
 Remus: Ready?
 NO, he wanted to scream. There were too many variables, they were leaving the comfort zone and that’s where Virgil thrived!
 Virgil: 5 mins
 He set up his computer and paced around his room for the remainder of his time. His eyes caught a blur of motion in the mirror and he turned to his reflection, his flapping hands slowing as he studied the face before him as he’d done hundreds of times before. Not his face, but the only one he knew as his.
A part of him was suddenly weighed by guilt as he looked into those bright eyes, because the guiltier part of him knew what he had was a crush. A helpless one, at that. And a hopeless one. What was the point pining after someone when the universe had already handpicked someone else for him? 
Stupid universe and it’s stupid soulmates. 
The chime of an incoming call startled him out of his reverie and he swore under his breath. He tried to soothe down his hair, rub the stress from his eyes, but it was hopeless when he couldn’t see if it actually looked okay.
He sat in his desk chair and took a few measured breaths before clicking accept. The video stuttered and glitched before it finally settled, and Virgil’s breath caught in his throat. 
 Black hair streaked with white.
 Sharp green eyes.
 A smattering of freckles over olive skin. 
 The silence stretched between them for achingly long before Remus beamed into the camera, and it was the most beautiful thing Virgil had ever seen.
 “Well, hello there, soulmate.”
Taglist:
@max-is-tired
@joylessnightsky
@marshymoop
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hyungieyoongi · 3 years ago
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Found: “Run Away to You” Part 1
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Let me go.
He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader 
Word Count: 1.6K
Genre: Fluff + Angst 
Series Masterlist: Run Away to You 
Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.
// Part 2
---
Looking at the calendar on your wall, the date glared back at you, red marker encircling the number as if you could forget it.
One year. It had been one whole year since you ran away from your old life.
Happy anniversary to me, you thought bitterly.
It hadn’t been easy–no, it had been tactful, strategic. Your best friend-turned-publicist, Marianne, had programmed your social media accounts to simultaneously deactivate. The phone you used for “celebrity” contacts and business-related matters was permanently turned off, stashed away in the back of a drawer. You had already moved all your belongings to a new apartment on the other side of the city, address undisclosed to everyone except Marianne and your parents on the other side of the world. Everything had been in place for you to completely disappear.
You were instructed to lay low for at least one entire month, groceries delivered to your door under a fake name with Marianne’s credit card. You had cut your hair, once long and flowing, to your collarbone. It was often hidden under a baseball hat when you went to your favorite café for a coffee or took your elderly neighbor’s dog for walks around the park. You were completely off the radar, just as intended.
That didn’t stop the world from trying to track you down for a while. Fan blogs speculated where you could have gone, and tabloids splashed old pictures of you on their covers with speculative headlines. Your parents even had to install a state-of-the-art security system in your hometown in the States after a magazine found out where you grew up and tried to break into their backyard. But you weren’t naïve enough to go back home; that was the first place people would expect you to go. Instead, you were hidden in plain sight in Seoul, just sans the flashes of the cameras following you. Without the designer clothes or big sunglasses hiding your features, you looked just like anyone else. Undetectable.  
You had grown up in America, studying acting and Korean during your time at university with Marianne. Upon graduation, you landed a major role in a K-drama, uprooting your entire life to move to Seoul. For five years, you lived in the spotlight under the industry’s microscope. People said you were living the dream, but it started to feel more like a nightmare. It became overwhelming, suffocating.
When the show wrapped after three seasons, you knew it was time. You decided to run. You just wish you didn’t have to hurt anyone else in the process. Especially him.
You had instructed Marianne to give him a letter explaining why you had to go away, but she never heard back from him.
Let me go, Yoongi. Don’t look for me. This is for the best. I will always care about you. – Y/N
The words were emblazoned in your memory, your eyes tearing up at the thought of him reading the words you wrote to him.
Let me go.
He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.  
Your cell phone rang, distracting you from the memories that plagued your thoughts today.
“Good afternoon, dearie!” Marianne chirped on the other end of the phone. “It’s a big day for you. The first half of your manuscript came back from the publisher, so get excited to do some editing!” Hiding away from the world for a year gave you a lot of time to think. For you, that meant time to write. Marianne seamlessly transitioned from being your publicist for your acting career to managing your budding career as an author, even helping you pick out a pseudonym.  
“That’s great news,” you mumbled in reply, taking a long sip of your coffee, the bitterness blooming on your tongue.
“Are you alright? You sound, I don’t know, a little off,” Marianne questioned, concern lacing her normally peppy tone.
“It’s been one year, Marianne,” you replied, knowing she’d understand.
“Oh my,” Marianne said after a beat of silence. “It completely slipped my mind. How are you holding up?”
“I’m alright just a little…weird, I guess? I’m so relieved to have my own life again. But I’m also just kind of mourning my old life today.”
“Oh babe, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Do you want me to come over after work–we can order takeout and watch a movie? Take your mind off things?” Marianne offered.
“No, that’s okay. I think I’m just going to spend the day doing some self-care. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the manuscript timeline, right?”
“Yes, of course! I’ll be at the café at 11:00 a.m. Are you sure you’ll be okay today?” Marianne asked, clearly not convinced that you were telling the truth about being alright.
“I’ll call you if I need you, I promise,” you reassured her.
“Night or day, Y/N, you know I’m here.”
After you both said your goodbyes and ended the call, you started to feel restless, needing something to take your mind off the date and the competing emotions swirling in your brain. You decided fresh air and comfort food were the solution.  
Grabbing your keys off the table by the front door, you slipped on your shoes, heading for the local corner store in your neighborhood, mindlessly forgetting your hat on the hook on the wall.
---
Mask pulled over the lower half of his face to conceal his appearance, Yoongi slipped into a nearby corner store, saving himself from the prying eyes that seemed to be examining him a little too closely from across the street.
He had snuck out of the studio without security, wanting to just take a moment to breathe all to himself. He had driven around Seoul with no destination in mind, eventually stopping in a neighborhood he found with a quiet park for a walk. His thoughts betrayed him as they kept going back to you and the letter he received one year ago, now crumpled in the top righthand drawer of his desk. He didn’t need to pull it out today to remember exactly what it said.
Let me go.
Once he read those words, he had stopped reading, smashing the paper together between his fists in frustration, shoving it in the drawer. It had stayed unopened since last year.
Yoongi aimlessly wandered through the aisles of the store, his mind continuously returning to that drawer. He had worked so hard to stop thinking about it–about you–over the past year. Today was a harsh reminder that you were still on his mind. He had stopped calling a long time ago, knowing that you wouldn’t pick up or return his calls. Sometimes though, if he had a little too much to drink with the boys, he’d call your number just to hear your voice on the voicemail recording. He didn’t tell anyone about those late-night calls.
Rounding the aisle corner, he collided with someone, knocking the snacks they had bundled in their arms to the ground. They immediately knelt down, trying to collect them.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you,” Yoongi offered, starting to lean over.
“Oh, no that’s okay I’ve got it.” Yoongi froze, his body going rigid. That voice. Your voice. He hadn’t heard it in-person in over a year. The sweetness of it rang through his ears, reminiscent of the voicemail he knew by heart.
It was you. After all this time.
---
Standing up with your snacks back safely in your grasp, you looked at the man in front of you who seemed to be barely breathing.
You were about to ask if he was alright, but then you recognized it. The black hat–the one with two rings on the edge that he would often wear when he went out. His mask had slipped below his nose, his pale cheeks slightly squished under the pressure of the fabric. Black hair poked out from underneath the hat, falling onto his forehead and into his dark brown eyes. They were wide with shock.  
You felt the color rush from your face, hands beginning to shake because this wasn’t supposed to happen.
You were safe. Safe in your self-made bubble away from the world.
Until he found you. And it burst.
You contemplated turning around, pretending you hadn’t recognized him. Leave him again. But you knew that wasn’t an option now. You had to face the thing you were most scared of–him.
“Yoongi, I-” your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.
“Your hair,” Yoongi remarked, cutting you off, tone flat and quiet. “You cut your hair.” His eyes narrowed at you.
You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat. “Just...wanted a change, I guess.”
Hide. You wanted to hide.
“You seem to have gone through a lot of changes,” Yoongi said, bitterness seeping into his voice.
You winced at the implication of his words. You took a deep breath to try and collect yourself before replying.
“Can we...can we not do this here?”
“Fine.”
“I live around the corner. Maybe we could just...talk?” you asked, averting your eyes to the ground. When you didn’t hear a reply, you looked back up to Yoongi, who nodded at you once in agreement.
Abandoning your would-be purchases, you walked out the front door of the store, Yoongi silently following behind you. You felt his eyes burning into your back.
Just put one foot in front of the other, you thought to yourself.
As you and Yoongi silently walked to your apartment, neither of you noticed the camera pointed at the two of you, snapping the photo that would change everything.
// Part 2
---
Taglist: @loveyoongles​ @agustd-2020​ @delacyrose224​ @crispychanniee​ @sunshinejunghoseokie @jinsearthh
Want to be added to the tag list? Let me know!
Check out my other work! ❤️ 
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tsukishimas-shortcake · 4 years ago
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That’s the point baby
↦ Character(s): (3rd year) Tsukishima Kei X fem!reader
↦ Warnings: dom!Tsukki, bratty!fem!reader, light overstimulation, creampie, a tiny tiny bit of degradation, oral (m. receiving), man handling, I don’t know what you would call it but there is a photo taken of the reader after sex, not proof read. 
↦ Word Count: 2.8k
↦ Your Order:  “hi momo, can i request a midnight special with tsukishima x fem!reader with overstimulation and creampie kink please 👉👈 and if it's not too much for you i wish u could make it fluff at the end 👉👈 thank you so much, i hope u always have an amazing day 💕💕” - anon   
↦ Your Momo’s Receipt: Of course, and I do apologize I completely forgot about the part where you asked for fluff at the end, I may write a part two or just post a Tsukki flavored fluffy cupcake if that’s okay with you lovely anon! Thank you so much for your order and I hope you enjoy your time here at Momo’s! If you feel like it leave comments for the chef and please come again! 
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You were in a tough spot, maybe you could call it between a rock and a hard place, since technically you were pushed against a wall and Tsukishima’s chest. Now, how did you get here? Well let’s go back.
The day began as normal, the morning was humid and fog muddled your sight, making it unable to enjoy the normal scenery you would pass on the way to your destinations around town. However, it was supposed to be extremely hot today, and hot and humid was probably the worst thing for you, especially having to wear a school uniform that required a white shirt. 
This caused you to ditch the knee high socks you normally wore and decided to leave your blazer at home, making sure to wear your tie, if you were going to get in trouble for your uniform you wanted to make sure you didn’t get into too much trouble. On your way to school you would normally meet up with your boyfriend at the half way point and walk the remaining half mile or so, but sadly Kei was at school already for early morning practice.
By the time you got to school you had run into Yachi as she walked with some of the new managers-in training that would take over the volleyball activities coming graduation, when she saw you she immediately dismissed them to go finish errands and began walking to you, both of you walking to your class together while chatting.
“So, how was this morning?” You asked softly, playing with the handle of your bag, “um...” Yachi said and looked around, almost avoiding the answer to such a simple question making you a bit confused, “I heard Kei-kun is a bit... mad today... not mad but frustrated you know?” she said, rambling on trying to phrase it in a way that would seem nicer even though she wasn’t being rude. You just nodded and looked at her, “do you know why?” you inquired and she shook her head, apparently she hadn’t shown up until half way through morning practice and the ‘incident’ had happened before then. 
The scenarios and memories of frustrated Kei was something you loved, as long as he wasn’t being rude to people too much you found it kind of fun to mess with him. Walking into your class Kei was sitting at his desk by the window, his headphones on as he scrolled through his phone. You sat down at your desk, which thankfully was the one next to his and leaned to try and make your self known. 
“Kei~” you waved at him and he glanced at you, slowly scrolling a few more times before tapping his phone and taking his headphones off with a sigh as he pushed his glasses up and turned in his seat to look at you. “Morning.” He stated a bit harshly, causing you to pout at him ever so slightly, “you okay?” you asked him, trying to look at him with big cute eyes to see how easily he may be swayed, weighing your chances and how you should act around him today. 
“Yeah, just fine.” He said before turning in his seat to face forward, keeping his head looking at you though, “how are you? was the walk to school okay?” he said, to which you answered quickly, telling him about how you go there quicker than normal because you walked faster but sadly were lonely. The teacher walked in and began class, causing everyone to get quiet.
Throughout the day your goal was now to annoy Kei to the point of him taking out his frustration in the way you hoped, on you. The hot weather paired with the humidity caused the windows of the classroom to be opened, causing the air to become thicker thanks to said humidity. Sadly for Tsukishima your white shirt was beginning to turn see through on your sides where your arms laid against your sides, showing your bra underneath.
The skirt you were wearing also repeatedly being pulled up higher as your legs kept getting hotter against the chair, making you want to get as much air to touch your skin as possible. This caused his eyes to fixate on your thighs, going between both your thighs and your chest his thoughts continued to transition from his academics to you, specifically to things he wants to do to you.
Of course most of this was done on purpose, you wore a darker colored bra today knowing it would be hot, obviously not planning to sweat this much but definitely knowing it would be a bit noticeable if you really focused on your shirt. Now in order to make your plan work you also continued to pull up the skirt higher than necessary, knowing it would catch his attention more than the shirt.
By the time school had ended Kei was unbearably frustrated, basically forgetting this morning’s situation, which you still had no real information about, but rather he was frustrated knowing you chose to distract him all day today. Lucky for you, since there was a morning practice afternoon practice was optional, and you knew frustrated Kei would definitely opt to take you home. 
The bell rang throughout the building, people instantly running out while a few stayed and quietly packed their things. You packed your things slowly and normally Tsukki would’ve done the same, but instead you felt a hand on your arm and heard a ‘let’s go’, hands reaching around your desk and shoving your things haphazardly into your bag. You smirked as your stood, Kei grabbing both of your bags and grabbing your hand before he began taking long strides towards your route home. 
“Kei slow down~” You whined but he didn’t even reply, just continued to walk, eventually you reached his front door and Kei groaned as he dropped his keys while trying to unlock it. “I got it!” you cheered, bending down to grab them, honestly forgetting you had ended up rolling your skirt up, your position was now showing a bit too much and as soon as you grabbed the keys Kei unlocked and then slammed the door open.
He kicked his shoes off and didn’t give you time to fully pull yours off before pulling you roughly towards his room. “Baby...” you said, feigning ignorance to what was causing him to be so rough, “are we going to study for our science test? we need our bags if we are.” you said with a smirk, “you know damn well we aren’t going to be studying.” he said in a low tone, closing his bedroom door behind you both.
He threw off his school jacket and put everything else down at his desk. “I’m not too sure what you mean.” You said, still unable to hide your smirk and your excitement of seeing him frustrated, his jaw clenched and his glare sharper than normal. “I’m not in the mood today y/n, don’t play around and tease me more than you already have.” he said as he looked at you and began to move closer to you, backing you against the wall, “hm~ tease you?” you said with a smirk that you know he can now see since he wasn’t turned away from you this time. 
“Yes, tease me.” he said, moving one of his hands to run the tips of his fingers down the middle of your neck and down to the buttons of your shirt, too which his fingers began to open. “you know... I’m aware you know I was upset this morning, but the fact you decided to act like some dumb whore... that was a bit too much... how am I not supposed to voice that frustration when you purposely try to make me mad?” he said, his voice getting quieter as he leaned down until his voice was a whisper and his lips were almost touching your ear,
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” you said before moving so you can look up at him, his fingers now done unbuttoning your shirt and now reaching towards the zipper on your skirt, “fuck me?” you said a bit mockingly, his straight face slowly turned into a sinister smirk “yeah,” he said and looked you in the eye as he pulled the zipper so hard it would’ve ripped off if the material was any cheaper “that’s the plan baby.” he said and pushed your skirt down, it falling around your ankles.
This caused you to almost shudder in anticipation but you bottled it up, hoping that no reaction may cause him to be rougher. “then do it.” you said in a low tone, Kei grabbed your side roughly, pulling you from the wall so he can push your shirt off, it falling to the floor not even an inch away from your skirt. Since you weren’t moving Tsukki decided he would just lift you, killing two birds with one stone as he got the skirt off of your ankles and got you onto his bed in the same movement. 
He set you on the edge of his bed before looking at you, not saying a word as he began to take off his own clothes, everything except his pants. “take care of it.” he stated bluntly, making you immediately get onto your knees in front of him. As you reached up to unbuckle his belt you looked up to meet his eyes. 
The look in his eyes was a look that almost allowed you to read his mind, you took off the belt and quickly unzipped his pants and pulled them down. He kicked them off and you looked straight at his hard member through his briefs. His hand went to the back of your head as you kissed along his length over his briefs, the hand tangling in your hair and gripping a bit tighter as he began getting impatient. 
“Stop teasing me if you know what’s good for you.” he said and you quickly looked up at him “yes sir.” you said obediently and began to pull his briefs off and then moving to take just his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before hollowing out your cheeks. After a few seconds you let it out of your mouth with a small pop. 
As you take him down your throat, trying to only go half way, the pressure on the back of your head from his hand causes you to push even more of his length down. In your attempt not to gag you placed your hands on Tsukki’s thighs, lightly digging your thumbs into his skin. “Who said you could touch me with anything but that pretty mouth?” He mumbled, it partially coming out as a groan.
Before you could pull off of him to answer he pushes your head back down, holding you there until he felt you begin to gag and then pushing you back and pulling you from your knees to sit on the bed. You looked up at him as he stared you down, his hands moved inside your thighs and pulled them apart, your soaked panties now on full display. 
A scoff from Tsukki caused heat to rush to your cheeks in embarrassment “you really get this wet from acting like a whore and making me mad?” he laughed softly, very lightly dragging his finger tip up your clothed slit before hooking his fingers around the middle and pulling your panties off while his other hand unclasped your bra. 
“Mainly from making you mad.” You whispered in a slightly bratty tone, your voice wavering however due to your need, this caused Tsukki to smirk even more. “Well, then I guess I should give you what you want huh?” He said before basically throwing you onto your stomach, pulling your hips in order to make you sit on your knees with your elbows down on his mattress. 
“Color?” He growled as he pumped his own length with one hand and groped your ass and thighs with the other. “Green.” you said, your voice muffled against the pillow in front of you. “Good.” He said as he slid his length between your folds, using your wetness as lubricant before suddenly slamming into your entrance. 
What had originally started out as a whine due to what was previously him teasing your folds was now a full moan that was almost a scream due to the sudden pleasure that flooded over you when he began to thrust into you. 
His kept one hand on your hip, his grasp slowly getting tighter as his thrusts got rougher. His other hand was moving between your chest and you hair, only pulling at your hair when you had leaned too far forward. The noise you made when he grabbed your hair and pulled you back into the original position was music to his ears. 
After a few hard thrusts and his hips becoming sloppy he moved his hand down to your clit, knowing from the way your thighs were shaking from the strength you were exerting to hold yourself up he knew you were close. The rough pad of his fingers sent you over the edge, your orgasm washed over you as the heat in the pit of your stomach turned into pure pleasure, he smirked when he felt your walls clench around him repeatedly but continued to thrust. 
Once you had seemingly calmed down from your first release he began his assault once again, speeding up, but this time he pushed down on the small of your back, causing you to lay flat against the bed and he moved to lay on top of you. His head above yours and his breath now against his ear, “how does it feel baby? Do you still enjoy making me mad?” He asked breathlessly and you nodded your head in agreement causing him to bite at the space between your neck and shoulder. 
His voice began to come out of his mouth against your shoulder before he quickly stopped talking, his hands gripping you tighter and his nails digging into your skin slightly. As he continued to thrust you felt your self growing closer to your second orgasm thanks to not just to him continuing his assault so soon after your first orgasm but also the feeling of your clit being ground against the sheets you laid on.
“I’m gonna cum inside you okay sweetheart?” He questioned although it was more of a statement, you released for the second time from the feeling of his release shooting inside you. He continued to thrust into you, his own high seeming to not pass and your second already ending. 
He groaned lightly before he bit at your shoulder “one more time.” he said before he started thrusting harder, trying to make sure his second orgasm wouldn’t run away from him too quickly, trying desperately to cum for the second time as soon as possible. 
He slammed into your entrance a few more times, this time focusing more on the strength of his thrusts than the speed, the only thing on his mind being to get as deep inside you before releasing. Just as he came again you reached your third and hopefully final release, he ground his hips against yours, not pulling out but wanting to ride out his high.
After stilling completely he relaxed against you, his chest heavy against your back as he attempted to catch his breath. For the first time since he began fucking you he moved the hand that was on your hip, moving it up to fix his glasses before slowly pulling out of you. 
He smirked as he moved back, his stare looking like he was enjoying a view, you went to sit up but you heard him let out a small “don’t” before moving closer and grabbing your ankles to spread your legs back out.
He grabbed his phone and took a photo before turning his phone around for you to see the photo, the scene of your entrance leaking his cum, his lips basically touching your ear as he whispered “I’m going to keep this as a reminder for you when you want to be bad again.” He said and smirked before turning off his phone and standing back up fully.
As he moved to grab a drink from his bed side table you began to sit up, he almost choked on his water from a laugh when he quickly took a few more gulps and set it to the side.
“I don’t know where you’re planning on going. Get back on your hands and knees.” He said with his signature smirk, causing you to whine. 
“I’m not finished with you just yet baby.” He said as he moved back to the bed.
© This writing is owned by tsukishimas-shortcake. Do not share on other sites without permission and do not plagiarize!
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cobaincreates · 4 years ago
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smart decisions
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warnings: drinking, angst, smut, fingering, nsfw, 18+
count: 10k+
hiiiiiiiii so i’m a horndog & i can’t get enough of rafe cameron (or drew) or college rafe & i also wanna cry over them so here you go. let me know whatcha thinkin’. please i’m begging you. 
also the photo isn’t mine i got it from here!
songs i imagined - this one & this one
— — —
transferring colleges had to have been your smartest decision to date. going from putting your strengths into a place that was not willing to acknowledge them to, now, receiving credit where credit was most deservingly due. your first choice for school had been some place close to home, you figured why not opt for the cheaper option to save yourself, and your parents, a little money. you spent a few months getting into the swing of things, heading to class each day with a fresh mind and hopeful thoughts. it wasn’t until six months in that you realized you deserved so much better, and at a better school.
it took time, figuring out your best bet and where to go and all the finances. you definitely grew impatient a year in, trying to stick it out at home to receive your credits. but once the moment arrived, you packed all your things and moved states away. you loved it; you loved the classes, you loved your friends, you loved your professors. you were completely happy with your choice to go. your parents might not have been, but the weekly calls home for your progress report were substitute enough.
wednesday, 5 p.m.
you scribbled a doodle you had been going over and over, darkening the lines so much you saw it behind your eyelids now. you snapped out of it and looked back at your textbook.
the library was so quiet, you heard pages being turned from every corner, the chewing of gum from a tense jaw, and the soft snores of someone passed out in one of the private cubicles across the way. none of those things distracted you really since you had come to the study session with a couple of your friends, all three of you making a pact to get shit done.
melly was able to listen to music while she studied and was more of a typer as her fingers moved fast along the keys of her laptop. she came dressed in her comfiest clothes, sporting a knit sweater and joggers. lina had snacks across the table to keep her sustained. she was a strong believer that she learned better while being fed. it made you laugh still. she was a writer like you, very organized in her notes with highlighters and different colored pens. she even drew headers for each page for the hell of it. you wondered where she got the drive. then there was you, black ink, the main topic underlined, things to remember written repeatedly. you learned better after writing things down, you couldn’t just read a book and have the information implanted in your brain. as much as you wished it were that easy.
you were studying for an upcoming psychology test, one that you were sure would be a piece of cake given how well you did in the class itself. it was one you didn’t plan on taking, but you needed another course to get enough credits for the year.
lina was munching on some almonds, turning a page in her notebook, and picking up a blue pen. you were in the middle of writing a definition down and filling up the last of the page, your hand starting to cramp with how much pressure you were using. you flexed it once you put your pen down and squeezed an imaginary ball.
both yours and lina’s eyes flicked up to melly across the table who let out a low moan. she was pulling her headphones off and looking in the completely opposite direction of her computer.
“why is he so fine?” she asked, low enough for the two of you to hear.
you looked over your shoulder at the same time lina did and searched in the general area melly was focused on. all you saw was a guy walking through the library, sporting a backpack and a lacrosse sweatshirt, the hood pulled over his head.
“he really knows what he’s doing, huh?” lina said dreamily.
you furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him turn into a row of books and you glanced at melly as you faced the other way, planning on getting back to your work. melly was dazed as she still looked in his direction.
“who is that?” you asked after a moment of both of them still ogling.
lina turned toward you as melly closed her laptop a little to lean over it. “what did you just say?”
you looked between the two identical shocked expressions and laughed helplessly. “who is that?”
“oh, i forgot. you’re still new.” melly nodded in semi-acceptance then became serious. “that’s rafe cameron. he’s on the lacrosse team and we’re kind of obsessed with him.”
“it’s alarming,” lina said. she gave a quick glance over her shoulder then looked back at her notebook. “i love making myself sad over him not noticing me, but it’s fine. what’s even more alarming is how he’s still single.”
“i cannot express to you, y/n, how good,” melly emphasized, squeezing her eyes shut, “he looks with a little sweat.”
“you guys sound like stalkers.” you pointed out, smiling a little at their explanations.
“i’m not denying it. i said it was alarming.” lina shrugged as she looked from her textbook to her writing. “we’ve talked to him a couple of times at some parties, he’s a super nice guy but we just find him attractive. i think if i were a freshman, i’d be pathetically pining after him.”
melly hummed in agreement, her chin now propped in her palm. she wore a doe-like look, gazing between yours and lina’s heads and into the bookshelves. “don’t they have a game tomorrow? we should go.”
“it’s away.” lina said, but you had already lost interest in the topic and started reading a new chapter. you picked your pen back up, the muscles in your hand now relaxed, and the boy in the bookshelves out of your mind.
monday, 9 a.m.
you were going to be late and you hated the thought. there was no way you could miss this test when you had done nothing but study every last page for it. you even lost track of how many pages of notes you wrote for the test alone. it would be such a waste to miss it and it wasn’t worth getting a negative grade.
being late was not at all your fault. you had set your alarm early, eaten breakfast and read a few more chapters to get ahead, and packed your bag up so you’d be ready after a quick shower. turned out that all the showers on your floor were broken, the yellow “do not cross” tape like a bad omen. you started muttering to yourself as you carried along your shower caddy, going down to the next floor and finding a line to wait in. you knew it was probably your best bet instead of racing to another floor to check if there were more lines, plus you didn’t know how much time you had. you probably annoyed some people with the fidgeting, but all you could think about was the test.
it was ridiculous how long the showers took and how you had to leave your hair damp as you ran back up physical stairs. you burst through your door, threw your bathroom things on your bed, grabbed your bag and the few books you couldn’t stuff in. while leaving, the door shutting behind you, you made do with damp hair, twisting it up and out of your face. as you checked the time, you figured out that you had eight minutes exactly to get across campus and in your seat with a writing utensil ready.
even though you were late, you still held doors open for people, and you dodged others walking the opposite direction instead of the other way around. you kept checking the time as if the minutes would stop moving.
just as you were looking into your bag, your legs moving fast and assuredly, you ran right into something hard. you dropped the textbooks that you had been clutching, even with a death grip on them, and your bag slipped from your shoulder. a notebook poked out along with a pen rolling away on the walkway.
“woah,” the hard surface said.
“i’m so sorry, i was not looking.” you said quickly and bent down to get your things. of course, this would happen while you were in a rush. you supposed you were lucky it didn’t involve cars. god, that would’ve been so much worse.
“nah, it’s alright.” they said easily and bent down beside you, retrieving your things.
you scrambled for everything and shoved the notebook back into your bag. you spotted your keychain near their foot, their fingers closing around it before you could reach for it. you finally looked up as they held the key out to you, the ring hanging from their finger.
rafe cameron.
he looked different now that you could see his face better. and also, because he was so close this time. it was odd to know now that he had blue eyes and a light ghosting of stubble along his jaw and cheeks. it felt too personal being this close to someone you only knew the name of.
you felt a little silly for bumping into him, but you didn’t let it show. “thank you,” you said as you took the key from him and stood quickly to walk away. lina and melly surely wouldn’t give this up when you told them.
rafe had watched after you for a moment before turning back to his friend topper, raising his eyebrows in reference to what happened, and continuing their conversation.
you made it to class about three minutes late and sat in your seat, finally taking a breath. you settled in, putting your things at your feet, and digging around for a pen. all thoughts of bumping into rafe cameron left your mind.
8 p.m.
“you what?” melly coughed violently as she composed herself. lina was clutching her stomach, nearly dying of hysterics when the drink came out of melly’s nose a second earlier.
you held your head in your hands and inwardly groaned at having to tell the story. you were out to dinner with the two girls, munching on french fries and milkshakes. it was typical for you three to hang out on mondays since melly usually had a bad case of them each week. you had innocently slipped in that you just so happened to run into rafe cameron this morning and well, you hadn’t expected that to be melly’s reaction.
“i ran into him. i was late this morning and i wasn’t looking.” you could feel the embarrassment settle in as you recounted the minor event, at least to you.
“did he say anything?” her eyes were blown wide as she leaned across the table.
“i didn’t try to have a conversation with him.” you shrugged and picked at the plate of fries at the center of the table. melly gave you a look of mild bewilderment, the shock of it wearing off.
“missed opportunity.” lina joked, taking a long sip of her shake. “i wouldn’t know what to say either if i ran into him.”
you felt your shoulders loosen as the topic was slowly changing. melly laughed at lina’s remark, teasing her that she would’ve frozen up from bumping into anybody. you smiled and were glad that both of them didn’t take the story too seriously.
minutes later you were laughing loudly, head thrown back as melly was telling a story about her family and a public mishap with a tire. it was interesting to you to hear about what it was like growing up in a completely different environment than the one you did. you supposed that’s something you loved about college; getting to meet people from so many other states and cities.
you were smiling to yourself as you dipped a fry into your shake. just as you put it into your mouth and looked across the table at melly, her composure changed.
“oh, fuck.” she whispered and noticeably tried to look away. “don’t look.”
both you and lina turned around to look toward the front door. a dense group of bodies was coming in through the door, the atmosphere’s volume increasing with their chatter. toward the back you recognized rafe cameron. you weren’t sure at all what it was that made your heart clench in your chest.
“i said don’t look!” melly whispered louder. “oh, god. okay. act normal.” melly straightened up, trying not to be obvious with looking in their direction. you laughed and sat back in the seat. lina practically sunk into hers.
you didn’t watch as they approached, but you did look up once rafe entered your peripheral vision. he was with the guy from this morning, even if you hadn’t noticed him before. you just remembered rafe crouched in front of you while someone just as tall stood behind him, waiting. both of them were sporting lacrosse sweatshirts, along with some others in the group.
“hey, rafe.” melly said easily like she hadn’t just been freaking out over him a second ago.
you watched rafe lift his chin, smiling genuinely at her. you didn’t think anything of it when he glanced at you, the recognition so obvious as his face changed. he continued to walk to his table though, eyes steady on you for what felt like too long.
melly turned around and sank over the table, her mouth open in shock. “oh my god,” she said above the surface.
“oh my god,” lina said, turning to you in bafflement. “i feel like i’m in an alternate universe. did that just happen?”
“he just recognized me.” you brushed it off.
“no, y/n, he knew you. that was longer than five seconds.”
“why are you guys so obsessed with him anyways?” you laughed, trying to take the attention off you.
lina shrugged, seeming taken aback with the question. “i don’t really know.”
“because he’s gorgeous, that’s why.” melly intervened, dipping a fry into her shake.
you looked over melly’s shoulder, wondering what it was exactly that was so intriguing about the lacrosse player. you had had your fair share of athletes and could agree on some being drop dead gorgeous. maybe rafe cameron was just a nice guy all around and melly and lina just had pleasant interactions with him. maybe he was the type of college boy that looked out for everyone’s wellbeing and that’s what made your friends obsess over him. it could be a number of things.
thursday, 8 p.m.
you rubbed your eyes, yawning in the middle of it, and lay back on your bed. you had just closed your computer after typing up a 10-page essay. it was nine when you started it this morning. you were just glad your one class of the day was canceled and that you had time to write the paper before next week. plus, there were no classes tomorrow, and you could have a whole day of doing nothing. you were stoked, to say the least.
feeling a vibration beside you, you reached for your phone and opened a text from lina. incoming in 5, it said, followed by a rattling of knocks on your door. you rolled off the bed and shuffled over, finding her and melly with wide smiles. it was infectious as you felt your own smile appearing on your face.
“what are you guys doing here?” you asked curiously, stepping aside to let them in. the door clicked softly shut as you followed melly to your bed where she went to sit. lina leaned against the wall across from you, careful of your roommate’s things.
“we were invited to a party and we were wondering if you wanted to come with.” lina said, sharing a quick look with melly.
you glanced between them, eyes narrowing. “what’s so special about this party?”
“god, how can you even tell that?” melly asked, slightly rolling her eyes.
“you guys have known each other longer than i've known either of you, but you’re easy to read.” you laughed.
“i don’t like that.” melly said quietly to herself.
you grinned at her, noting her curls springing around her face. melly usually had her hair pulled back out of the way and it was very rare to see her with a different hairstyle. there had been some days where she had braids and you enjoyed seeing the change of pace. lina on the other hand always let her hair down. tonight though, she had straightened it and thrown it into a high ponytail. you hadn’t really gone to a lot of parties with the girls, so seeing them all done-up was always fascinating.
“seriously, what’s the deal?” you asked again, looking to lina since she was the one who had proposed the idea.
she shared another look with melly again before finally coming out with it. “it’s at rafe cameron’s apartment.”
you felt that clenching again in your chest, in that same spot from last night. you swallowed, feeling how dry your mouth was in the span of three seconds.
“well, it’s his and topper’s apartment, so not technically just his.” lina said, waving her hand in enunciation. she crossed her arms. “i have this study group with topper and he invited me and mel and anyone else really.”
“come on, it’ll be fun.” melly said, nudging your arm.
you looked at the girl beside you, ready to say no mostly in panic of seeing rafe. you had nothing to worry about or freak out over, but it was a scary thought. so many things happened at parties. so many things could happen.
“okay,” you said easily.
the prior fears dissipated quickly as lina and melly gave a small cheer and encouraged you to get ready, and to take your time. you spent the next ten minutes asking them what you should wear, going through your side of the closet. all three of you agreed on a plaid skirt you had bought a few weeks before on a spontaneous shopping trip. you only wore it once since then and had been meaning to pull it out again. you paired it with a sweater, something easy to keep you warm through the night instead of bringing a jacket along. lina and melly agreed excitedly when you changed and raised your eyebrows, searching for approval.
9 p.m.
holding on tightly to lina’s hand, you laughed hysterically to the point of tears and a clear indicator in the nether region that you had to pee, badly. a connie bailey rae cover was playing from a speaker near you, your laughter probably not as loud as you thought it to be as you calmed down. melly stopped her ridiculous reenactment and pulled an exaggerated disgusted face as she dodged someone trying to dance with her. you shook with laughter and took a long sip of your drink, tilting your head back to finish it in one gulp.
the party had been way more fun than you thought it would be, especially when you walked the four blocks to get there. lucky for you, you had been smart and worn flat boots. the apartment was a good size for the event and had plenty of space to gather, enough left over for those that wanted a break from either dancing or just to relax. some people you didn’t recognize had the large tv on, a video game on the bright screen. there was plenty of shouting coming from their general direction, a wave of arms and pointing of rigid fingers.
you had seen rafe in passing, but never made the initial eye contact as if to let each other know that you were near. stepping into the apartment and being greeted with his friend topper, you felt like you were intruding or trespassing by being in rafe’s space. you didn’t know him, or topper for that matter, and it felt odd to you to be in their physical home.
“where’s the bathroom?” you asked lina as melly went to get more snacks.
lina stood up on her toes and pointed at a closed door. “i'm pretty positive it’s over there.”
you gave her a nod and walked in the direction she pointed you in, finding a couple people waiting against the wall. you took a place there and acted as a fly on the wall for a total of five minutes since the line went fast. once inside, you took a deep breath, feeling refreshed at the open window and the cool air coming in.
you dried your hands and placed the towel back where it was on the counter and opened the door. the next person waiting rushed in rather quickly, making you stumble against the doorway. you laughed to yourself and felt the rush of sudden wind as the door slammed.
excusing yourself past a small group, you headed toward the refreshments. you were already thirsty after having emptied your bladder seconds before, but you were aware it was just the addictive alcohol buzzing through your system. it was crowded closer to the drinks, rightfully so, and it only took one person to move for you to see rafe acting as a stand-in bartender.
part of you wanted to run right back out of the kitchen and find lina and melly, but the other part of you wanted to give a swift kick to your rear. you chose the latter and walked over to where he was at the counter. he was in the middle of pouring someone else’s drink and you stood on his other side, taking in his appearance while you still could. the blue hat on his head read “obx”, turned backwards. he wore an off-white t-shirt, the graphic design on the back drawing you in. you were too busy staring at his shoulders molded with the fabric to realize he had turned around and you were now staring at his chest. you blinked up at his face, smiling lightly.
“hi.” he said, a small lilt to his voice as he recognized you once again.
“hi.”
“can i get you something?” he asked, and you felt your shoulders falter a little, thinking that was all he was going to say to you. stick to his image of drink tender and have you go on your way. but his body told you differently as he turned fully to face you.
“um, i can get it.” you said, the instant flight taking effect at the very prospect of being shot down.
rafe nodded and stepped out of the way, moving further into the corner of the counter. you smiled at him and poured your own drink, mixing up your favorite. rafe still stood there and you could feel the strong vice his eyes had on you. it made you a little self-conscious, but you relaxed with a deep breath.
“i never got your name.” rafe said just as you took a sip and turned to leave the kitchen. “you know, from the other day.”
“that’s because i was too busy bumping into you.” you let out a small laugh and stepped closer to him, out of the way if someone wanted a drink. you turned your back to the fridge and tried to find a spot to lean on as rafe looked down at you, a smile playing at his lips. “i am sorry about that again. i was in a rush for a class.”
“it’s no problem. i’m just glad you’re okay, we hit pretty hard.”
“y/n.” you said and held out a hand respectfully.
“rafe,” he slipped his hand into yours, warm and strong, and smiled widely.
“i think i’ve heard your name only a million times in the past week.” you admitted, knowing that lina and melly would kill for brownie points. “my friends are a bit obsessed with you and fully willing to educate the newbie.”
“obsessed, huh? lina and mel, right?”
you nodded and took another sip. rafe reached on the counter and grabbed a handful of pretzels. he held some out to you. “they’re nice girls,” rafe said easily. “i’ve hung out with them a couple times, but i didn’t know they were obsessed.” he laughed to himself.
you munched on a pretzel and froze at an idea. “you’re not going to tell them i told you, are you?”
“not unless you want me to.”
you stared at him for a bit longer than you planned, then let out a breath and took another pretzel from his hand. it was odd to be sharing food with him when just the other day you felt like your heart was tearing in your chest. at the moment, you could only feel a dull ache.
“so, how do you like it?” rafe asked.
“like what?”
“campus, the college.”
you nodded and swallowed some of your drink to wash the pretzels down. “things have been really great. i enjoy it here. it’s an immense difference than my first college back home, so i’m happy.”
rafe smiled. “and the party?”
you followed his nod to the people around you, glancing to your original spot where you left lina. you didn’t see her anywhere until some people moved and you found her and melly sat on the couch. they were playing the video game with a whole mess of guys. you grinned.
“the party is great.” you commended, looking back at him. he had finished the rest of the pretzels in his hand.
“good.” he nodded. “i always get nervous when top and i invite people over. we’ve done it a bunch of times, but there’s always the possibility of something going wrong.”
“well, you’re doing great. both of you. hopefully, nothing horrible happens.”
11 p.m.
you would be lying if you said that your conversation with rafe from hours ago wasn’t still running through your head. it was difficult not to think about it when you kept seeing him more often throughout the party. most of the time you’d catch his eye, or vice versa, and instantly smile. you’d then recall the sound of his laugh and would even hear it from feet away. the clenching in your chest was now accompanied by a swirling in your stomach.
you were pacing yourself with your drinks, but by now you were on your fifth of the night. you were completely aware of everything around you and you were enjoying the ongoing buzz. lina and melly were a bit more inebriated than you were, which only added to the fun.
the two girls in front of you were swaying to a song together, not even close to being slow tempo. it was very upbeat, the bass pumping through the walls. the front door to the apartment was now open since it had begun to get warmer with the more and more people that were joining. a few windows were thrown open as well.
“you remember how in freshman year you fell down that flight of stairs and twisted your ankle and practically bashed your head in and then your mom yelled at you and then your sister called to tell you she was pregnant and then your dad! oh my god, and then your dad was like ‘hey i’m thinking of leaving your mom so uh, yeah’ and then your mom was so pissed but then she was fine because she found a total hunk of a man to replace your dad like that,” melly snapped her fingers as your body started to shake with laughter. lina was laughing too, not at all bothered with a quick recap of her, very shitty, first year.
“yes, thank you for reminding me mel. i love when we have tantalizing conversation like this.” lina leaned her head against the others’.
mel giggled, a few hiccups escaping. “i think i need to pee.”
“god, you’re like a peeing machine.” lina sighed and tightened her arm around melly.
“that’s what drinking will do to you.”
lina rolled her eyes and looked at you as she brought melly to the bathroom. you asked quickly if she needed help, but she shook her head and promised they’d be back soon. you watched them go then turned back to the party, turning too fast and not feeling the presence behind you in the moment. a cool liquid pooled over and down your chest, soaking the fabric of your sweater. you gasped at the contact, your mouth dropping open and looking down at the dark stain.
“i— “ you looked up to tell the person it was fine before an apology came out, finding that off-white t-shirt on a very familiar blue-eyed person. “we have to stop meeting like this.”
rafe looked horrified at having spilled his drink all over your sweater, his eyes wide as they stared at your chest.
“that’s the most cliché thing to say.” you said, laughing lightly to ease the tension so obvious in his features.
he let out a laugh too. “you can borrow something of mine. come on,” he held out his hand and you took it willingly, realizing some people were staring at the accident way too curiously. you let rafe lead you up the stairs, the complete darkness on the landing causing you to focus solely on his hand in yours.
rafe opened a door and flipped a light on, your eyes adjusting to the brightness. he led you further in and closed the door behind you before rushing to his dresser, a whole display of cologne bottles on top. as he rummaged through the drawers, you stood just in front of the door, a little timid to step further in. you were holding your sweater away from your chest, already feeling the stickiness of liquid on your skin.
“how’s this one?” he asked, holding out a simple white one.
“you don’t have to give me a shirt.”
“it’s the least i can do. the bathroom is right there.” he handed the shirt to you and nodded just behind your shoulder. you thanked him and went in, closing the door with a click. you pulled the sweater off and dampened a washcloth, wiping the dried drink from your skin. pulling the shirt on, you relished in how soft it was and styled the piece of fabric so it looked better with your skirt.
rafe was sitting on a couch next to his bed, more like a futon, his hands in his pockets and hat off his head. he looked up as you came out, straightening his posture and looking you up and down.
“i’m sorry.” he smiled guiltily.
you smiled and walked over, moving around the small circular coffee table and sitting next to him. “guess it was payback for the other day,” you teased as you folded your sweater and set it next to you.
rafe rolled his eyes with a knowing smile. you glanced at him as you leaned back, feeling the softness and rigidness of the futon. “you look good in my shirt.”
“i feel better in a less damp one.” you said, easing the fluttering in your stomach. your chest clenched again as you crossed your legs.
glancing around rafe’s room, you admired the movie posters on the walls and the multiple lacrosse paraphernalia. one of his jerseys lay crumpled at the end of his bed, the comforter pulled over the pillows to look made. it was better than you did with your bed, you were pretty sure yours was unmade and messy.
it was a decent sized room, plus the bathroom was nice to have. you’d kill for your own bathroom again. it would be nice not to wait in a line. you told yourself that you just had to figure out an earlier schedule so you could beat the crowd.
after a once-over of rafe’s room, you looked over at him to find him already looking at you. he was fully analyzing your face, you could see his eyes flickering to different parts.
you swallowed and licked your lips. “what?”
“nothing.” he said quickly and sighed, laying his head back on the couch.
you squinted at him, now tracing over his features. he looked nervous from what you could tell, his hands moving in his pockets. you stared at his chest moving up and down slowly, the intake of breath coming as it grew bigger. his adam’s apple protruded, bobbing slightly as he swallowed. your chest clenched once again as you looked at his face, watching him look up at the ceiling. he really was handsome. you shifted in your seat, switching your leg over the other.
“that look wasn’t nothing.” you commented, breathing in.
“what look?” he turned his head toward you, eyebrows slightly pushing together. you watched every change in his face, from his eyebrows to his eyes blinking then to his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.
“the look of ‘i want to eat you up’.”
he laughed, the couch shaking with him. “what does that entail?”
“major gazing and bedroom eyes.”
“bedroom eyes, huh?” he hummed and lifted his head. his lips tugged at a smirk.
“am i imagining things?” you asked seriously, slightly doubting if you made the right call. maybe he wasn’t thinking what you thought he had been. maybe you were imagining things.
rafe didn’t answer, instead looking down at the floor. the smirk alone told you that you had been right. his hands flexed in his pockets, hard for you to miss. a few silent minutes passed, the both of you listening to the party still going on downstairs.
“if you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.” you said quietly. after a moment you figured he hadn’t heard you, that he had lost himself in staring at the carpet.
“can i?”
“yes,” you nodded.
rafe sat up and met your eyes, moving closer until his thigh was touching yours. you shifted your upper half closer to him, feeling a wave of shivers run through you the second his hand touched your cheek. you instinctively pressed your legs tighter together as your heartbeat picked up and rafe lowered over you, licking his lips once more. they were soft and firm, just as they needed to be. he tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing just beside your mouth as you kissed.
seconds later, you brought your own hands to his face. you were eager to touch him, to feel the solidness of him against you. it was mostly a reassurance that this was in fact happening and that you weren’t dreaming. you pushed a hand into his hair just behind his ear and mirrored the last few pecks he was leaving you before he fully pulled away. you felt a pinch of disappointment, the small taste for him now growing bigger. you had to stop your hands from pulling him back.
he pulled away only a little and you opened your eyes to see him still so close and looking over your face. your breaths mingled together.
“what?” you huffed, letting your head fall back for a second in slight irritation. you just wanted to kiss him again. you let your hand slide down from his hair, resting near his shoulder. you wanted to squeeze the muscle under your hand.
“nothing.” he said again, eyes flickering down to your lips once more. he smiled, holding himself up on the back of the couch. his thumb brushed the same spot on your cheek. “don’t tell anyone, but i’ve been imagining this since you showed up tonight.”
you returned your hand to his hair, slightly scratching with a smile. “i knew you spilled your drink on purpose.”
rafe grinned widely and moved back into you. this kiss was deeper, your lips opening for him when you felt his tongue. his hand left your cheek and appeared on your hip, ever so slightly pushing your shirt up so he could touch your skin at your waist. you smiled against him as you felt his hand slowly creep up the shirt. you were reminded again that it was his and you pulled him closer by the back of the neck, hearing a soft moan leave his lips. your thighs squeezed, your excitement starting to rise.
“you just gave it to me and now you want to take it off?” you teased as rafe’s hand covered one of your breasts, the cool air of the room reaching your skin. rafe smiled and kissed you again.
his hand disappeared, apparently changing his mind, and reappeared on your thigh. you breathed in sharply at the warmth coming from his palm, resting just above your knee. your brain started to spaz for a moment and you imagined a bunch of smaller yous, running in circles like their heads were cut off.
rafe’s hand stayed steady as you uncrossed your legs, a silent invitation. he moved to kiss the corner of your mouth. “is this okay?”
the fact that he was pulling away multiple times to check in on you had to be evidence enough of why lina and melly liked him so much. you hadn’t met many guys that were so in tune with consent or caring about what you wanted. it turned you on seeing it coming from him.
“yes.” you nodded as you touched his forearm, not wanting to seem too eager.
you anticipated his hand moving and when it did, you held back the moan. you were much too eager for teasing and he was showing no signs of not giving you want you wanted. as he got closer to you, you placed your hand over his. he pulled you back for a kiss and you decided to focus on that for a moment to lessen your nerves.
his touch was soft once he met your underwear. his fingers pressed over you and you shivered from how wet you had become because of him. he hummed into your mouth, only adding to the pooling between your legs. his hand reached back and pushed your skirt further up so he could get to you more easily.
you let out a satisfied sigh against his lips as he ran a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness. your underwear had been pushed to the side, out of the way, finally feeling his touch.
“are you this wet for me?” he asked. you nodded against his forehead and pulled him back, letting out a moan as he brushed over your clit. it was only for a second, but you were about ready to burst.
you opened your legs wider for rafe, his fingers moving over you and exploring the new area. you gripped his hand to silently ask him for more along with an impatient moan. you wanted his fingers so badly in places you weren’t ready to admit yet. he wanted the opposite.
“talk to me.” he said, nudging the side of your face with his nose, planting a kiss to your jaw. you opened your eyes that had fallen shut, your breath getting heavier. your chest felt like it was going to cave in.
“please,” you said, adjusting your hips. “please, touch me.”
“i am.” he pulled away, a menacing smirk on his face just to gauge your reaction.
you huffed out and pulled his hand closer. “you know what i mean, rafe.”
“i like when you say my name.” he pressed a kiss to your lips sweetly.
“i might like when you touch me, so get on with it already.”
rafe laughed huskily, his breath blowing over your face. “you want my fingers?”
you wanted to roll your eyes at how badly he wanted you to beg, but you wanted his fingers more. “yes, please. i want your fingers. give me something.”
you let go of his hand as he finally pushed a finger into you. you adjusted around him for a moment and felt the need to close your legs to keep him there. he pulled your lips back to his, his tongue quick to lick into you. you held his face again as his finger started to move inside of you.
“you want another, pretty girl?” he asked after a few moments passed. you nodded again, breathing hoarsely, too intoxicated in him to speak. a second finger pushed into you then, stretching you ever so slightly. you sighed, letting your head fall back to the couch.
“you’re so wet.” he said as he moved his fingers, delighting in the sounds he was making with you in the palm of his hand. “you’re taking my fingers so well, y/n. do they feel good?”
you moaned as he said your name for the first time. it was something you didn’t think you’d like so much, but with the current situation, it was wonderful.
rafe’s lips appeared on your neck. you held the back of his head as he pressed a few kisses then closed his lips over a spot closer to your collarbone. if your breath had been short then, it was even shorter now as he worked to leave a mark on you. with all the attention you were getting, it only brought you closer to your release, and you started to move your hips. he freed your skin, startled at your movements, then amazed as he watched you chase his fingers. the spot he left throbbed now, all your blood rushing to two places at once.
“are you going to come?” he asked as you heard the start of song you had been replaying for the past few weeks. it was muffled and you could barely hear the words, but you knew it by heart.
“yes, fuck.” you looked up at him, taking in the sight. he was breathing over you, his eyes never straying too far from yours as your mouth opened in pleasure. “rafe, make me come.”
you squeezed your eyes shut as he kissed you hard, breathing deeply into your mouth. he reached his thumb to your clit and began to draw circles at a normal pace with his fingers. your stomach started to twist, the familiar feeling forming fast as he picked up the pace. he could tell you were close by the sheer dig of your fingertips on the back of his neck. it only edged him on more to bring you to your climax.
“come on my fingers.” he said, eyes half closed as he looked at you, lips brushing over yours as he spoke. you whimpered and felt your hips twitch before stilling completely, trapping rafe’s hand between your legs, as you came undone. his thumb continued to move to help you through it. your jaw went slack, eyes rolling under your eyelids, as you moaned loudly. you felt an overwhelming sense of content, the adrenaline rush coming and going quickly.
your blood pumped in your ears and it took you a few moments to register rafe giving you subtle kisses all over the underside of your jaw. you breathed in shakily and let your head fall back on the couch, your knees separating. rafe took his hand away and you winced as he did. you already missed the contact.
the moment was completely ruined as his name was called up the stairs. rafe’s lips disappeared from you as he looked toward the door. you didn’t know what came over you as you pulled your skirt down over your thighs, the footsteps heavy outside his door before a couple of his friends burst in.
“guys, come on. get the fuck out!” he shouted in annoyance, sitting up completely, his leg still touching yours.
“woah, sorry.” they said as they took in your presence. you shifted and knew that they could probably tell what you and rafe had been doing. they evidently didn’t care as they went into a whole spiel of something that had taken place downstairs. rafe tried to stop them and their alcohol-induced exuberance.
he looked at you over his shoulder, touching you lightly on the knee. “i'm sorry.” he said, his friends not hearing as they talked to one another. “i'll see you downstairs?”
part of you felt completely stupid when he said it, like everything that had happened moments ago was just an imagination. you felt your shoulders slump, but you nodded and got up anyways. the door was quick to close behind you and you were left in the dark landing, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. you smoothed your hair, took a deep breath, and fixed your underwear and skirt again.
your eyes adjusted gradually as you went down the stairs back into the swing of things. you swallowed, your mouth still dry post-climax. you went into the kitchen and filled up a cup with water, downing it slowly and stepping out of the way of some people. you couldn’t help but feel drained as you watched the people around you, laughing, dancing, and drinking. you had just spent the last 30 minutes in rafe cameron’s room and now you didn’t know what to do with yourself.
“y/n!” you looked up at melly coming toward you, her makeup slightly smudged, but that didn’t change how great she looked. “there you are!”
you gave her an assured smile and finished the water in your cup. “hey.” you tried not to let anything show.
“lina and i are ready to go if you want to come with. i think we’re going to get some food somewhere in town. i was thinking curly fries or a veggie burger. lina is dying for— wait, where did you go? we looked everywhere.” her expression suddenly changed to one of concern as she stepped closer to you.
“i— uh, well clearly not everywhere.” you said shamelessly, feeling your neck grow warm.
melly opened her mouth to say something then stopped. “oh my god, why are you so flushed? what happened to your sweater?” she looked at the shirt, her eyes catching on something near your collarbone. her eyes went wide as you tried to hide the mark. “oh my god!”
monday, 4 p.m.
“i was thinking that it could go more like this,” your friend said as she pressed a few buttons on her laptop. a new beat started from the computer, the screen following along with the track. you bobbed your head along with the beat.
the campus coffeeshop was somewhere you liked to go, mostly to meet your friends, but you also enjoyed the coffee. sometimes before class you’d make it just in time to get an extra scone before they were all gone. it was a cozy place too, filled with older antiques and an endless display of guitars on every wall. sometimes they’d have an open mic for students, letting anyone with any sort of musical or comical talent perform. most of the acts were later in the week though so no one had to worry about coursework.
after your classes today, you had met up with a friend you hadn’t seen in a while. she was eager to show you what she had been working on for her musical composition classes and you had expressed that you were willing to listen.
the past weekend had been spent mulling over a certain party and a certain someone you couldn’t seem to forget. not that you tried to, to be fair. you’d hadn’t seen him since, which was nothing new given the amount of times you had encountered the boy since that day on campus or seen him for the first time in the library. you didn’t find things weird, but things were left upspoken and it had been bothering you. you knew that melly or lina could’ve easily gotten his number for you, had you asked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to, nor did you know what you would say. all you could do was hope that he was doing well and maybe, perhaps, thinking of you too.
it was inevitable to escape having to talk about what happened in rafe’s room with melly and lina. you weren’t willing to share all of the details right down to what he smelled like, but you didn’t deny that nothing occurred. they seemed satisfied when you recounted having to change your sweater and rafe being kind enough to offer you one of his shirts.
speaking of the shirt, you had gone to your dorm that night and taken it off, seeing that “cameron” was written on the back, along with a large number. no doubt it was for lacrosse. the prospect of it made you shiver before folding it up to leave on your desk. you hadn’t touched it since.
“christ, i've got a meeting with my advisor soon.” your friend said, quickly exiting the program on her screen and closing her computer. “thank you again so much for listening. i can’t express how relieving it is to have someone do this.”
you waved her off with a sweet smile and packed up your own things. “i'm always around if you need a first-time listener.”
both of you stood and pushed the metal chairs in. you followed her to the exit, listening to her as she explained the reasoning for her upcoming meeting. both doors opened, the one from her pushing and the other from rafe coming in. you looked up as he met your eyes, and you couldn’t deny how good it was to see him.
“hey,” he smiled at you as all three of you paused.
before you could say anything, the words sticking to your tongue, you looked back to your friend. she was looking between the both of you, unsure of what was going on. you swallowed and acknowledged her. “i’ll see you later?”
a small smile came onto her face as she looked at rafe then back to you and nodded. the door closed softly behind her. you looked back at rafe as you felt his hand ghosting over your forearm.
“hi,” you said finally.
“it’s good to see you. come up with me?” he gestured to the register and you nodded, letting him take your hand. you didn’t think too much of it as you stood alongside him as he ordered. when the cashier asked if there would be anything else, rafe looked at you expectantly. you blanked for a second, remembering that you didn’t get a drink earlier when you first arrived. you had immediately gone for a sandwich, satisfied that that would be your dinner.
rafe pulled out his wallet and paid for the two drinks. he then led you toward the pick-up counter and faced you with a soft smile. “how have you been?”
“okay,” you breathed in deeply. you weren’t exactly sure how to answer. were you supposed to tell him how freaked out you had been? no, you decided, best not to. “the weekend was busy.”
“mine too. i've got practice tonight so i thought i’d stop by for some energy. i’m glad i ran into you.”
you refrained from asking him if he was serious. you could see on his face that he was with the way he looked at you. “rafe—”
before you could say much of anything else, rafe’s hands appeared on your cheeks and his lips pressed to yours. you kissed him back just as gently even though you wanted to do more now that you felt him again. he pulled away as his order was called, turning to thank the barista as he took the two cups.
“come to my place to study? after practice, i mean.” he said as he held your cup out to you. you looked at it then back up at his questioning eyes, a sliver of hope in them. you pushed down the question at the tip of your tongue and accepted the coffee.
“we’re just studying?”
rafe beamed and nodded. “i have a huge test tomorrow that i can’t fail, so yes.”
7 p.m.
before parting ways with rafe earlier he had finally taken your phone and put his number in it, but not before taking an odd photo of himself. it made you laugh watching it happen though. he promised that he would be done with practice around now and you left your dorm a little earlier than you planned to. it was out of pure thrill really.
knocking on the front door, you waited patiently for it to be answered. you shifted the books in your arms as you heard soft footsteps behind the door. rafe opened it, standing in loose-fitting clothes with damp hair. he smiled instantly and welcomed you in.
it was a drastic difference compared to the party. the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. rafe turned to you from the door.
“how many books did you bring?” he asked seriously, glancing at them against your chest.
“just two,” you said defensively only until you saw the grin. you rolled your eyes and turned away from him to kick your shoes off.
he was chuckling to himself as he went into the kitchen and pulled out snacks to have. “do you want anything to drink?”
“water would be great.”
“smart choice. less sticky.” he said, his back to you, but you could hear the satisfied tone of his voice at his remark.
once he gathered drinks and a plate of snacks, he led you upstairs. it was brighter this time with his door already open and lights already on. you glanced at the other closed one down the short hall, finding the sliver underneath completely dark. maybe topper wasn’t home.
“how was practice?” you asked, setting your things down. he placed the plate on the coffee table and took a seat on the floor. you brushed your hair away from your face and sat down beside him.
“good. just ran some drills, normal practice stuff.” he shrugged, munching on a chip.
“is topper not home?” you set your books on the table and opened them up to where you had marked. rafe moved to grab his things from his bag sitting on the couch. he copied your actions and pulled out a pencil and a notebook.
“no, he went out with some of the guys for food.” he said easily, opening to a blank page. you watched curiously as he wrote down the topic he was studying for.
both of you fell into a silence as you started to read from your books. you were worried about it being a strange silence, knowing what happened the last time you were in this room. it was fairly difficult to push it out of your mind and to focus when rafe was right next to you, so close, along with the thoughts and memory of his touch. you pushed everything out of your head and concentrated back on the page you were reading from.
it wasn’t long when rafe’s hand appeared on your bent leg. they were crossed under you and he had placed his hand like it belonged over the side of your knee. you looked at him in your peripheral but didn’t see him look up once to acknowledge that he had in fact done that. instead you let it happen, ignoring the way it warmed up your skin. you swallowed in anticipation of him interrupting your studying session to turn it into a quick make out session, but the longer the minutes passed the longer his hand stayed where it was. after a while, you forgot about it.
if you had taken one look at rafe, with no prior knowledge of him or of the way his hands felt on you, you would have never guessed that he becomes so engrossed in studying. for the whole two hours that you both spent together with your noses in textbooks, he hadn’t once started a conversation. he kept at reading and writing, jotting things down in his notebook, while you held your head above your own book and soaked up every last word. it was comforting knowing that. the plate had even emptied, mostly due to rafe’s insatiable appetite after practice. you weren’t that hungry from your sandwich earlier.
“okay, that’s it.” rafe said abruptly, causing you to look up as his hand left your knee. “my eyes are going to bleed if i read anymore.”
you laughed lightly and looked back at your book. “are you sure you studied enough?”
“i wrote a whole ten pages worth of notes.” he flipped through them, the pages brushing together.
you hummed, still engrossed in your text. rafe shuffled next to you, dropping his notebook over the open pages along with his pencil. he let out a long sigh which turned into a yawn.
“are you done?” he asked innocently, his head appearing on your shoulder.
you glanced at him and shrugged him off with a smile. “maybe.”
“come on,” he groaned and reached for your textbook. you automatically smacked his hand away. he laughed and quickly flipped it closed and took ahold of your chin to face him.
“that was a dick move.” you said, punching him softly on the arm.
“pay attention to me.” he whined, letting go of your chin only to touch your cheek.
you eyed him as he came closer, finally kissing you when you didn’t punch him again or push him away. you kissed him back as best you could with the speculation seeping into your brain then. rafe seemed to be able to tell.
“what is it?” he asked when he pulled away, running his thumb lightly along your cheekbone. it was reassuring almost.
you looked at him, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. you also thought about how badly it could go given the answer you were dreading. “i'm just— it’s nothing.” you shook your head quickly and leaned in to distract him with another kiss.
he reciprocated for only a moment. “what is it? you can tell me.”
“i guess i'm just wondering what we’re doing.” you rolled your shoulder as if you had a knot, pulling away from rafe in case he didn’t want to touch you. his hand fell from your face and he leaned his side against the couch.
“what do you want to do?”
you gave him a serious glare. “don’t make this a game, rafe. i'm just…wondering what your intentions are.”
rafe adjusted his posture and sat up straighter, all his attention on you. his eyebrows creased and you bit the inside of your lip self-consciously, knowing this wasn’t going to go how you wanted it.
“well, i'm enjoying spending time with you.”
“studying?” you asked with a monotone.
rafe glanced away from you as if he were wondering if he said the wrong thing. “yeah. is that so hard to believe?”
you wanted to huff again, but you held the breath in. your shoulders started to tense as you became frustrated. not because of him, mostly because of yourself for not being able to communicate. you felt stupid for asking it, but you did. “do you like kissing me?”
“of course i do.”
“is that all you want to do?” you finally asked, quickly looking away from him. you reached toward your textbook, fiddling with the pages.
“no,” rafe said. “i want to get to know you.”
it was hard for you not to roll your eyes. rafe noticed and a second later his hand touched your shoulder, gently shaking it.
“i'm serious. hey, look at me.” he pleaded, and you did. “i want to get to know you, but only if you’ll let me. i know the other night was weird and i don’t know— spontaneous, but i enjoyed it and i enjoy being around you. you’re not the only one who’s been thinking about it.”
“i’ve probably been thinking about it more than you.” you chided in a quiet voice, trying to tease him. you were pleased by the answer he gave you and you felt a little silly for being so stubborn at first.
rafe smiled slightly, eyes soft. “let’s just keep doing what we’re doing and see where it goes, okay?”
you took a deep breath in, pushing your book away and nodding. “okay.”
rafe’s hand rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before he pulled you in for an awkwardly placed hug. the side of your body fell into his chest, but he hugged you, nonetheless, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of your head. you turned into him and smiled widely, your cheeks strained to hold it, and hugged him around the shoulders.
all the time spent worrying about whether he reciprocated your feelings or thoughts were so obviously wasted as you spent the rest of the night together. you took it slow, never straying from innocent kisses as you curled up together to watch a movie. you couldn’t help grinning multiple times throughout the night, knowing that things wouldn’t be difficult like you thought. it was easy when you expressed yourself and talked things over, even mentioning small things made a difference. maybe this would turn out to be another smart decision. you had a feeling there were plenty of possibilities with rafe cameron, but only time would tell.
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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years ago
Text
Thoughts (Ethan Ramsey x MC)
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Claire Herondale
Word count: 1,7 k
Summary:  OH3 Chapter 2 rewrite + added scene. Claire finds out what’s on Ethan’s mind every time he sees her.
Warnings: None
A/N: What’s that? Ethan and MC are acting like a couple? Did you mean ‘give them more fluff’? I got you, no problem.
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Ethan’s focus was forcefully shifted from the paperwork he’s been working on to the two figures that appeared in the doorway to his office. His forehead creased at the sight of his newest patient being wheeled into the room. Not a fraction of a second later, Claire came into his field of vision and, as bizarre as it seemed, her presence alone managed to lessen the irritation the new administration of the hospital evoked in him every single day since they came back to work. Remembering what the deal with their patient was, he schooled his features as much as he could.
“Dr. Herondale, is everything alright?” he found her eyes with his, feeling a wave of warmth flooding him. Claire moved her head slightly, a shift in her stance so miniscule that if he weren’t paying as close attention to her as he did, he wouldn’t have caught it.
“Everything’s okay, I just figured that since we were waiting for Andrew’s M.R.I., we could study his… symptoms a little more.” She walked closer, leaning on the desk. A whisper of a grin made itself at home on her face. “Mind taking part in a little experiment?”
He somehow knew that it would come to this, almost as though he could read her mind now too. Ridiculous as the situation was, he knew saying ‘no’ wasn’t a real option for him – he’s lost the ability to deny her anything a long time ago. With a sigh, he waved his hand for Andrew to begin.
“He’s tense.” The young man started, matter-of-factly. Ethan scoffed.
“I don’t think you need psychic powers to determine that.” He pointed out, leaning back in his seat. Looking at Claire again, he found her already staring at him with a tenacious spark. “… Fine, proceed. But only because I agree that we need to determine what’s going on here.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” She muttered under her breath, grinning cheekily at him. “All right, Andrew, tell me what does Dr. Ramsey think about me?”
With no hesitation, Andrew replied. “You mean besides what he’d be doing with you now if the two of you were alone?”
Ethan’s head snaps towards their patient before he can even think about what he’s doing. “What?”
“Am I right?”
“Ethan?” Claire’s voice betrayed the surprise she was trying to hide with a stoic look on her face. She didn’t have to say anything else, really, because Ethan already knew that she’d tease him endlessly with that knowledge. A flash of heat licked its way up his spine, coloring his neck red. He broke the eye contact, incredibly interested in anything but her all the sudden. There was no running from her, though, since the first thing that his eyes landed upon was a photo of Claire and him from the gala.
It took him a moment to find his voice again, words melting into a mumble.
“… I don’t want to talk about it.”
Andrew, encouraged rather than disheartened by the obvious effect he had on the doctor, continued. “In the slightly more PG realm, he’s about ten times happier since you walked through the door.”
Ethan cracked a helpless smile, feeling himself unable to keep a straight face. He tried to make his voice sound stern, but at this point, not even Ethan himself believed his tough demeanor.
“I would really prefer it if you stopped while I still have some dignity left.”
The young man fell quiet, clearly proud of himself. Meanwhile, Claire turned around towards her partner and leaned closer. Her hair fell over her shoulder, creating a curtain that hid her face from Andrew. Ethan felt locked in place, hypnotized by her charming smile.
“You have something to say about this…?” she trailed off, dropping her voice to a warm mutter. He hesitated, unsure how much freedom he could allow himself, but ultimately, the look she was giving him made him forgo his inhibitions.
“I won’t deny that he’s right.” He began, causing her to grin knowingly. “But he could have figured this out by the way my eyes follow you. Or my body language, for that matter.” He recalled all the times in which his body gravitated towards hers during the initial consult, their shoulders pressing together.
“I don’t know about it, Dr. Ramsey.” Leaning into him even further, she whispered sultrily. “That thing about throwing me on the desk… not that it would be the first time…” her gaze fell to his lips, the corners of her own inching upwards. Ethan’s breath caught in his throat, his body moving towards her slightly. Before he could reach her, she straightened her posture and turned back around to her previous position. “That was strangely familiar. Not to mention, accurate.”
Andrew cleared his throat, bringing the attention of both his doctors back to him. The older diagnostician blushed an even deeper red color.
“Be that as it may, it would help to test it further with more concrete questions. Mr. Polowsky tell me…” Ethan wondered what question he should ask, deciding upon something that there was no way he could figure out simply by observing him. “My favorite place to vacation.”
This time, the young man hesitated, taking a moment to think before answering. “New York?”
“Try ‘no place at all’.” Claire chimed in, looking over her shoulder to gauge Ethan’s reaction. “Dr. Ramsey here is a workaholic.”
“Very funny, Claire. Try again, Mr. Polowsky.”
“Maybe Las Vegas?”
Ethan laughed, shaking his head in disagreement for the second time. He felt Claire’s eyes on him, noticing a curious glint when he looked into them. They kept the contact long after Andrew admitted that he didn’t know the answer.
“Weird. You were getting perfect reads with everyone else.”
“This ability clearly has its limits. It might help narrow down the possible causes.” Ethan nodded in agreement, observing their patient closely.
“So what is your favorite vacation spot?” Andrew questioned, curious about where the world-renowned diagnostician chose to relax.
“Nice try. I may not use Pictagram much…” Ethan laughed, sending a meaningful look Claire’s way, her latest photo never too far from his thoughts. “But I know better than to give away my best kept secret and invite the crowds in.”
He observed them as they left for Andrew’s M.R.I., perplexed by the whole situation. Claire looked back at him and once she was sure she had his attention, she blew him a kiss, grinning smugly at the charged look he gave her.
~
Some time later, he found her hunched over the table in his office, deep into the article displayed on her laptop. Leaning against the side of the table, he looked into her research.
“Any progress?”
“Nothing new. M.R.I. didn’t show any significant changes, blood tests came back with no indications towards any probable causes.” Her shoulders fell in disappointment. “We’re back to square one. Flu… and psychic abilities.” Claire fell deeper into her seat, sighing deeply. “And those powers are getting creepy. You saw it yourself.”
“I can certainly agree that his accuracy is uncanny, not something you’d usually expect from cold reading. But it’s not enough to convince me that he has magical powers.” Straightening his back, he hummed under his breath. “He wasn’t 100% right.”
“He was right about you, though.” Claire smiled suspiciously at him. “Mostly. I still want to know what’s that heavily guarded holiday destination of yours.”
Ethan’s hand moved to her neck, trailing upwards until he reached her pulse point, tracing the delicate skin with the tip of his finger.
“If I tell you now, there won’t be an element of surprise when I take you there.”
Her eyes fluttered close for a moment, losing her focus upon the feeling of his skin against hers. She was breathless when she spoke again, and he was sure he had her distracted. How wrong he was.
“Are you going to be thinking about me when we’re there the way you think about me when we’re at work?”
A low groan escaped him, a hint of a blush returning to his face. “You’re not gonna let me live this down, huh.”
Claire scrunched her nose adorably, the only response he needed, then turned back to her research. Ethan moved to stand behind her, squeezing her shoulders from time to time as they brainstormed for possible causes of their patient’s special powers.
~
His eyes found her in the evening after they diagnosed Andrew, just as she was about to leave. The atrium was strangely quiet, providing a false sense of calmness. His feet carried him towards her on their own.
“Fancy seeing you here.” He smiled warmly, reaching her side in a few strides. Claire raised an eyebrow at him, the corners of her lips rising smugly.
“Why? Were you hoping to see me?”
“Oh, definitely.” They were now face to face, eyes locked in a heated gaze. His fingers followed the hem of her jacket, pulling her closer to him by the lapel. “Do you have any plans for the evening?”
She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, humming softly. “I was originally gonna go home and drown myself in Netflix, but I suppose I could be convinced otherwise.”
“I see.” He nodded, stroking the line of her cheekbone with his knuckles. His voice dropped to a deep grumble, sending a thrilling shiver through her. “Can I make you dinner?”
Claire breathed out slowly. “Yeah.” Her shoulders fell as the tension accumulated throughout the whole day of work flew out of her. “I’d love that.”
Ethan threw his arm over her shoulder, tangling their fingers together and squeezing tenderly. He pressed a long kiss to her forehead, smiling once again – he’s been doing that a lot lately.
Before they reached the train station that would take them to his apartment, she saw an opening for one more tease.
“Do you want another blueberry smoothie in the morning?”
Notes
My two idiots are basically married. That’s all I see. 
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mochegato · 4 years ago
Text
Nannyette
Chapter 9 – A View From the Top
Chapter 1     Chapter 8 
Tim studied the pictures on her wall again while he waited for Marinette to change out of her stained shirt.  Specifically, he studied the picture of Marinette that looked like it was taken from the top of the Eifel Tower.  He studied the background of the photo.  Either it was a hell of a photo shop job or it was actually taken from the Eifel Tower, and taking into account the perspective and size of the objects in the background, it was taken at the top of the Tower. But there was no way she could have gotten up there, right?  So it must be photo shop.  Unless… He thought back to the photos she identified in his townhouse.
“Sorry I made us stop here.  I’m such a klutz,” Marinette groaned apologetically.  
“You aren’t even trying to hide it, are you?” Tim asked with an amused, teasing lilt to his voice.
Marinette furrowed her brow and gave him a confused shake of her head.  She followed his eye line to look at the pictures, specifically the picture Adrien had taken of her from the top of the Eifel Tower.  Marinette paled slightly and snapped her eyes back to Tim.  “Hide what exactly?” she asked carefully.
“This picture was taken from the top of the Eifel Tower, a place they do not allow civilians.  There was no way for you to get up there legally or even illegally.” He moved closer to her with each sentence, a love-struck grin on his face. Marinette subconsciously backed away as he moved forward.  “That’s why you were so quick to identify my pictures as outing me.  You had pictures that could out you.  You were one of the heroes, weren’t you?”  
He quirked his head to the side and studied her, trying to figure out which hero she was, still advancing on her, missing the sudden color change and tension in her frame.  “That’s how you knew so much about them and how their suits worked, why you’re such a good fighter, why you are so good at patching up wounds, how you knew how worried we would be about our identities.”  He looked up and saw a picture of her and Adrien together. “That’s what you and Adrien were talking about earlier with the ‘dealing with giant babies’.  I thought you were talking about annoying people but you meant a literal giant baby, an akuma you guys had to deal with because he’s a hero too.” Tim grinned proudly for having figured it out.
Marinette only stopped backing up when her back hit a wall.  She looked away to think about her options, a plausible excuse.  She may have found out about their identities, but she wasn’t ready for him to find out hers.  She carefully controlled her breathing.  If she started hyperventilating now, it would be a dead giveaway that he was right.  Tim had advanced to the point of almost touching her.  He put his arm up on the wall to lean against it, unintentionally boxing her in and making her feel claustrophobic.  
She looked back up timidly.  “Or… I was friends with a few of them, particularly Chat Noir.  I was the target for quite a few akumas and got to know them pretty well.  My balcony was along their patrol route and I gave them pastries whenever I could. Chat had a pretty bad home life and he liked to stop at my balcony to think and talk.  Plus we gave them pastries and treats when they stopped, so it was a popular spot.”
He looked at her skeptically searching for signs of duplicity, but everything she said seemed truthful.  At the very least, she believed what she was saying.  “And the picture?” he nodded to the picture of her from the Eifel Tower.
She looked over to the picture and got a nostalgic smile on her face.  “Chat took that.  He wanted to give me a view I’d never forget.”
Tim raised his eyebrows.  “Should I be jealous?  Do you have a different favorite hero?”
She chuckled lightly, thankful for the change in focus. “I grew up with Ladybug and Chat Noir and the rest.  They mean a lot to me.  My life has been saved so many times because of that team.”  She raised up her hand to run it along his neck and rest it on his shoulder.  “But lately another hero has caught my attention.”
He smiled at her seductively and rested his hands on her hips.  “Oh yeah?”
She nodded coyly, looking up at him through her eyelashes and running her finger down his chest.  “Perhaps you’ve heard of them?”
“Maybe.  Do I get to find out their name?”
She hummed at him and pulled him down until his ear was a few centimeters away from her lips.  “Black Bat.”  
She grinned as he groaned and dropped his head onto her shoulder.  “I want to be mad but I can’t blame you for that.  She’s everyone’s favorite.”
Marinette hummed again and lifted his head to look at her.  “Maybe, but not mine.”  Her previously teasing eyes were now filled with tender affection.  “I kind of have a thing for Red Robin, but I heard he has a girlfriend.”
Tim nodded as he moved to cup her face.  “He does. ��I heard he absolutely adores her.  He thinks he might be falling in love with her.”
Marinette’s eyes sparkled and she grinned brilliantly. “Yeah?” Tim nodded again, unable to look away from her eyes.  Marinette’s smile grew impossibly wider and she wrapped her arms around his waist to pull him closer.  “Good. Because I heard she’s falling in love with him too.”
Tim’s smiled excitedly.  “Really?”  This time Marinette nodded, biting her lip shyly.  Tim surged forward to kiss her passionately, but before their lips met, her head snapped to the suddenly opened door and his lips landed on her cheek.
Adrien slammed the door behind him and made his way back toward his room, so focused on what he was thinking about he didn’t see them against the far wall.  “Okay Plagg, what do you think? ‘Bug, I’ve decided I’m going to ask Luz to marry me. So… I want to let the cat out of the bag.’  No, no, that isn’t good.  She won’t appreciate the, frankly perfect, pun.”  
A high pitched voice rose up from Adrien’s jacket. “That was terrible and a lazy effort.”
“What do you know?  You don’t like any puns unless they are about cheese.  Okay, how about “Marinette, Bugaboo, Bug, LB, best friend ever, sister, I’ve decided I want to spend the rest of my life with Luz and I don’t want to keep any secrets of mine from her.  So, I want to tell her about Paris and about me, who I was.  I won’t tell her about you.  I know how important it is that nobody knows who you are.’  Good right? ‘Oh, and you need to be my Best Man. Best Maid?  Best Person?’”
Tim gaped at him and whipped his head back to Marinette whose eyes were clamped shut and her face scrunched up in frustration.  “I’m supposed to be lucky,” she groaned out quietly and lightly banged her head against the wall behind her.  She took a deep breath and gave Tim an apologetic grimace before turning to address Adrien.  “Plagg is right, that was a lazy effort, but I understand you were distracted. Wait until she says yes before you tell her and maybe not in the same night.  Give her time to celebrate the engagement before you drop a big bomb on her. She’ll love it,” she rushed to assure him, “but it’s still a lot, so not at the same time.”
Adrien jerked back, whipping his head around to see her and Tim, almost falling but catching himself at the last minute.  His face immediately paled as he mentally went through everything he had just admitted to.  “Hey Bu… uh… Marinette.”  He stuttered awkwardly shifting from foot to foot.  “I thought… so you didn’t go to his place then?”
“Nope,” she said popping the p.
“I thought you were going to his place.”
“I had to change my clothes.”
“How much…” he couldn’t even finish the question.
Marinette sighed and moved away from Tim wrapping her arms around herself as she did.  “Enough.”
Adrien let out a guilty sigh, “Sorry Bug.  I didn’t… I should have checked my surroundings.  I really… I’m sorry.”
Marinette gave him a halfhearted smile.  “It’s okay.  He had actually just asked a few minutes before you came in anyway, so I wasn’t going to be able to hide it for much longer.”
Adrien looked between the two of them surprised Tim picked up on it so quickly when none of their friends or family had been able to after years.  “Right. Okay.  Well I’ll just… um… go then.  Good to see you again, Tim.” He waved to Tim before he remembered the awkward situation he had just created and stiffly retracted his hand before quickly retreating out of the apartment.
Marinette moved to lean against the back of the couch. She didn’t think she would be able to stand on her own for this conversation.  “I’m sorry,” she spoke quietly to the floor.  “I… I didn’t lie.  None of what I said was a lie.  Chat did stop by a lot before either of us knew each other’s identity and that picture was… I had a particularly rough day.  Chat didn’t know why but it was a lot of things piling up on me both as a civilian and a hero and a… um…” she furrowed her brow as she spoke.  She wanted to finish that sentence but she couldn’t.  As much as she cared about Tim, she couldn’t risk telling him more than he already knew. “Anyway, Chat didn’t know why exactly it was such a rough day for me but he took me up to the top of the Tower to get me to smile.”
She could hear Tim approaching her slowly, but she wasn’t ready to look in his eyes yet.  She wasn’t ready for the betrayal in his eyes she was sure would be there. “We didn’t even know each other’s identity until after we had defeated Hawkmoth, the first one.”  She looked to the side, tears starting to fall down her cheeks.  “And what I said about the powers, how much danger there is, how much power is involved, that was all true.  I can’t tell someone I just met, no matter how I feel about him.  I’m sorry, I just can’t.  There is too much at stake.”  The tears were falling faster now.  She knew she was going to lose him over this.  He had shared his identity with her and she had basically lied about hers even when he directly asked.  He was going to think she didn’t trust him or she was just using him.
She startled when she felt arms wrap around her and pull her into a welcoming chest.  “Shhh. It’s okay.  I understand.  It’s okay. I’m not mad or disappointed,” he reassured her, rubbing comforting circles on her back and kissing her temple.
She pulled back to look him in the eyes to verify his words.  His eyes held nothing but honesty and concern for her.  She lamented the loss of his hands around her waist until she felt his hands on her face, wiping away her tears.  “Do you know how paranoid Batman is about identities?  He passed that onto me.  I had friends in the superhero community for years before I told them who I was.  We saved each other’s lives more times than I could count.  I trusted them absolutely, but didn’t tell them my identity.  If you hadn’t found out our identities on your own, I probably wouldn’t have told you for a long time and there was a lot less at stake for me than there is for you.”
He cupped her face again and laid a chaste kiss on her lips.  “I understand.  We just started dating.  I don’t expect you to spill all your secrets right away.  It’s okay.”  He pulled her into his chest again to wrap her in his reassuring embrace and rest his forehead on hers.  “And I meant what I said, I’m falling in love with you.  Nothing about what just happened changes that, other than to maybe make me even more impressed.  And make no mistake, tonight I’m going to scour the internet to find videos of my kickass girlfriend in action so I can feel even more unworthy.”
Marinette gave him a grateful smile.  “Thank you,” she whispered barely loudly enough to hear even in the silent apartment.
“The worst part about this is that I don’t get to gush about my superhero girlfriend and lord it over the others.  I’m just going to have to know internally you are definitely too good for me,” he sighed out in mock exasperation.  
Marinette giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I know what you mean.  I can’t gush to Adrien about the amazing job my boyfriend did taking down the cartel the other day or the jaw dropping moves he did in the fight.”  She sighed pitifully.  “I’m just going to have to stick to gushing about the qualities he shows in his civilian identity; being brilliant, kind, funny, sexy, sweet, compassionate, dedicated, loyal…”  
She would have continued listing off more of his outstanding characteristics but Tim stopped her mouth with a passionate, hungry kiss.  He pulled away breathlessly to look her in the eyes.  “I think I was wrong, I’m not falling in love with you.  I’m already there.  I love you.”
Marinette beamed at him and cupped his face, gazing at him adoringly.  “I love you too.”
“But,” he looked down in mock disappointment, “maybe some form of punishment might be in order.”  Her face fell and she looked at him confused.  He looked back up with a devilish grin.  “I’m just not certain if it is more of a snuggles level infraction or cuddles level.”
Her expression morphed to a sultry look.  She pulled his face closer to hers again. “This might be severe enough to level up.  I was thinking it might be a watching Knives Out level transgression.”  
“Ooohhh, that seems harsh, but if you think that’s justified…”  He closed the gap to pull her into a searing, passionate kiss, which was quickly followed by many, many more.
 The End
Tags:
@timari-month-event  @ichigorose @stainedglassm @better-toast @theymakeupfairies @trippingovermyfeet @demonicbusiness @maskedpainter @ladybug-182 @a4-machete
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expectingtofly · 3 years ago
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Not-So-Easy-Bake Oven, 2k
Established Dean/Cas, Toddler Jack, Fluff without Plot
day 3 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration
prompt: baking
“Petzel, petzel, petzel!” Jack chanted, banging a tiny plastic whisk on the table. He wore a kid's apron decorated with bumblebees, dotted black lines twisting and curving to show the bees' crisscrossing flights.
“Alright, buddy, give me a sec,” Dean said, pouring a bag of dry pretzel mix into a bowl. Charlie had bought Jack an Easy-Bake Oven for his fourth birthday, and this was their first time using it and its soft pretzel making kit—much to Jack’s excitement.
Cas came over from the sink with the kit’s measuring cup filled with water. “Wanna pour?” he asked Jack. He steadied Jack’s hand as he took the cup and poured it into the bowl. “Now it’s time to mix.”
He lifted Jack up to kneel on the table, and, gripping his whisk in one fist, Jack began stirring the mix and water together—if jabbing the bowl could be called stirring.
Dean opened the oven, checking to see if it was working. Already pretty warm for a squat bright pink appliance. “Woulda killed for something like this when I was younger.” He looked at the inside of his wrist. “Used to have a pretty nasty scar from when I tried making Sam brownies in some janky motel oven.”
“You should’ve never been left unattended in the kitchen at such a young age,” Cas griped, grabbing the bowl before it careened over the table's edge from Jack’s vigorous stirring. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself. If I ever meet John…”
Dean grinned. “He’s lucky he never met you.”
“Exactly.”
"Done," Jack announced, dropping the whisk. Dean raised an eyebrow at the bowl where the mix was only half-combined, dry powder still clinging to the bowl.
"Looks good, kid," he told him, and picked up the flimsy pink whisk to finish stirring.
Jack protested, though, grabbing his hand. "Done!"
"It just needs a little more," Dean told him. "Look, it's not totally mixed."
"Hey, Jack," Cas said. "Help me pick out stuff to put in our pretzels." Successfully distracted, Jack clambered over to him and Cas carried him to the pantry.
Dean finished stirring the mix quickly. "Good choice," he heard Cas say and looked over to see him grabbing a bottle of soy sauce. Oh boy.
The oven chimed, announcing it was pre-heated, and Dean stared at the lumpy excuse for dough in the bowl. Maybe it’d look more appetizing when cooked.
"Chocolate chips, pepper, raisins, oregano," Cas listed, coming over and setting various items down on the table.
"Uhh." Dean stared at the box of corn flakes Jack carried over to the table, nearly as big as his torso. He couldn't figure out which items were Cas’ choice and which were Jack's suggestions. "Not really sure all this goes together."
"You never know," Cas said, picking Jack up and standing him on a chair.
He might not've known for sure, but he was pretty sure he could guess. "Alright, well." He dumped the dough onto the table and divided it into small sections. "Time to experiment, I guess."
Cas sprinkled flour on the table so they could roll out the dough, but before he could even close the bag, Jack smacked his hand down on the table, sending a cloud of flour into the air.
Cas coughed, waving flour away from his face and Jack cackled, one palm dusted white. Dean laughed at Cas, until Jack leaned over and swiped at his t-shirt.
"Dude, seriously?" Dean asked him, brushing his shirt off. Jack only laughed, clapping his hands to send more flour floating in the air. "How ‘bout you put the flour to good use?" Placing a small ball of dough in front of Jack, he propped up the box that the mix had come in and studied the instructions for forming a pretzel shape.
"So first you roll the dough out into a rope," he said, following along with the pictures. "Then you form it into a u-shape." He glanced at Jack to see if he was paying any attention, but Jack seemed more interested in rolling the dough around the table and through the flour. Then he yelped, staring at his hands in bewilderment.
"I'm messy," he said, staring at the dough sticking to his fingers. He held them up to Cas, who told him.
"You have to get your hands dirty." Taking one of the balls of dough, he poured some chocolate chips on it and began rolling them into the dough. "Look at Daddy."
Jack looked over at Dean, just as his dough rope tore in two. "Dammit." He balled the dough back together. “Let’s try that again.”
Before he could try, though, Jack started clamoring for the corn flakes, so Dean set a handful of the cereal on the table. "I think this is gonna mess up the baking times," he said, skimming the back of the box. "Recipe doesn't say anything about adding extra shit."
"This is a child's baking oven. It's supposed to foster fun and creativity." Cas nodded at the box.
Dean turned the box around. Fun for the whole family! it read along with a photo of perfectly formed pretzels. At the bottom, it also read, "Ages 8 and up." Ah. So maybe a little advanced for a four year old.
Corn flakes went flying and Dean dodged one shooting towards his eye. Oblivious, Jack continued crushing the cereal with the flat of his hand, a gleeful smile on his face.
"Yup, uh, good enough," Dean said quickly, grabbing Jack's hands.
"No!" Jack yelled, trying to get out of his grip.
"Take the oregano," Dean said quickly, hoping for a distraction. It worked, except now he had to hand over the container and watch Jack sprinkle the herb all over the near vicinity. Maybe he could pass off clean-up duty to Cas, who was making his own mess, adding food dye to his dough to make a swirl of purple and pink.
He helped Jack combine the corn flakes and oregano into the dough, then roll it out into a rope. Cupping Jack's hands, he guided him through curving the rope of dough into a U-shape, crossing the two ends twice, then pulling them over to make a rough pretzel shape.
“Hey, not too bad.” Pulling out his phone, he took a photo. "Smile for Charlie, Jack."
Jack held up the pretzel, effectively warping the shape, and grinned at the camera. "I make one for Auntie," he declared when Dean lowered the phone, and grabbed more dough to form his own pretzel.
“How did you do that?” Cas asked, studying the box. Going to him, Dean did the same thing he’d did with Jack, standing behind him and holding his hands to help him form a pretzel shape. Cas' fingers were dusted with flour, and Dean got a bit distracted by the way Cas leaned back against him, letting him guide him into creating a pretty decent pretzel. Not as perfect as the ones on the box, but close enough.
“I think I’ve got it,” Cas said, grabbing more dough and forming another pretzel in two easy swoops. Okay, way better than the one before.
“Did you just trick me into helping you?” Dean asked, pulling away from him slightly.
Cas tilted his head into him. “Mhm.”
Dean rolled his eyes but kissed his neck anyway.
Several tries and several more mishaps later, and they had a few semi-recognizable pretzels. Some they dipped into a cinnamon sugar glaze that came with the kit, others they placed as is into small, pink, round dishes.
“They go in here and cook for ten minutes,” Cas instructed, helping Jack push the dishes inside the oven. Jack peered into the opening, then back at Cas and Dean.
“Done now?”
“Gonna be a long ten minutes,” Dean said, setting the timer.
They tried to clean up as the pretzels cooked, though Jack was covered in so much flour, food dye, and dough that he left a trail wherever he moved. And he would not stop moving. As Dean tried to wipe down the table, Jack ran loops around the island, and when Cas tried sweeping, Jack decided to start spinning around in the middle of the kitchen until he fell over. Then do it all over again.
“If he has this much energy now, what the hell’s he gonna be like when you give him a chocolate chip pretzel?” Dean asked Cas, putting the oregano and soy sauce back. He had no idea which pretzel Cas had slipped the sauce into and was not eager to find out.
“That may have been an oversight on my part,” Cas admitted. The oven beeped and Jack rushed to the table.
“Petzel!” he began chanting again.
"Don't touch," Dean warned, using a tool from the kit to pull the dishes out of the oven and place them on the table.
“Which one do you want to try first?” Cas asked Jack, who took a moment to study the pretzels before pointing to the purple and pink one—or what was once those colors but had now taken on a more bloody appearance.
"It's pretty," he said.
“Yes, it is,” Cas agreed, transferring the pretzels onto a plate. Dean turned off the oven, then startled when Jack began crying.
“Hot!” Jack cried, pointing at the dish Dean had told him not to touch. In hindsight, he should’ve realized the temptation would’ve been too much to resist.
“Let me see,” Cas said, taking Jack’s hand.
“No, it hurt,” Jack cried, trying to pull his hand away.
“Alright, alright.” Scooping Jack up, Dean carried him over to the sink and turned on the cold water. When he held Jack’s hand under the stream, Jack squirmed, trying to get away.
“Cold!” he yelled.
“I’m trying to help, dude,” Dean told him. “This’ll make it feel better.” More startled than hurt, it seemed, Jack calmed down after a few seconds. Turning off the water, Dean studied his finger. Not even a blister, but he nodded at Cas. “Think Dada can help?”
Jack nodded and held out his finger to Cas. "Booboo.” Cas took his tiny hand and kissed his finger.
“Are you too injured to eat a pretzel?” he asked.
“No!” Jack yelled, suddenly all energy again, squirming out of Dean’s grasp. Dean set him down and he ran to the table, clambering on a chair to grab the purple/pink monstrosity of a pretzel.
“Try one,” Cas told Dean, joining Jack and pushing over the plate.
Dean grimaced, but chose the cinnamon sugar and corn flake one. Why that was even a combination was beyond him. Bracing himself, he took a bite. Okay. Dry. Pretty bland. Crunchy which was just wrong, but not horrible—wait. He took that back. Oregano and cinnamon sugar did not go well together.
"Um. Well.” He choked down the rest of the bite and set the pretzel back on the plate. “These are, uh..."
"Not good," Cas finished. He squinted at his own pretzel, then took another hesitant bite. Instantly, his face screwed up, and he shook his head, dropping the pretzel onto the plate. “It seems you were right. Soy sauce, pepper, and raisins do not mix."
“Who would’ve thought?” Dean deadpanned. Jack munched happily on his pretzel, cinnamon sugar covering his chubby cheeks. “Someone’s enjoying them, at least.”
“For Charlie,” Jack announced, pointing at one of the pretzels on the plate.
“She’ll love a day-old pretzel,” Dean told him.
“Yes, she will,” Cas said, giving Dean a look. He pushed Jack’s hair back from his face. “It’s the thought that counts.”
Jack abandoned the colorful pretzel for the chocolate chip one, then the corn flake one. True to his word, he left one untouched on the plate for Charlie. She would get a kick out of it when she visited. I knew he'd love it!! she'd responded to the photo Dean had sent her of Jack holding up a pretzel.
“This was fun,” Cas said, a smile on his face, watching Jack.
“Yeah.” Dean looked over at the mess of bowls and dishes in the sink and back at the flour streaked table. Making a fist over his open palm, he said, “Loser has to clean.”
Cas straightened, a competitive gleam in his eye. “Agreed.”
“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.” Cas threw scissors and Dean threw paper.
“Dammit,” he exclaimed. “You always do rock.”
Cas grinned. “And so I conditioned you to think I’d do it now.”
“Christ, when’d you get so conniving?” He got up and asked Jack, “You wanna help your old man clean?”
“No, tank you,” Jack replied.
“‘Least he was polite,” Cas said.
“Good luck getting him down for a nap later.”
“Why’s that my job now?”
“Sorry,” Dean turned on the water to start scrubbing the bowls. “Can’t hear you over all the cleaning I’m doing.”
Cas rolled his eyes. Dean grinned when Jack offered him a bite of his pretzel and Cas had to act like he enjoyed it. Turning back to the sink, he grabbed the sponge. This was a lot of fun.
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pastel-odette · 3 years ago
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Revenge- A Banana Fish Fanfiction
This is a fic written for @emi-joanna. Sorry it took so long, I started work and college this past month. I hope it's as angsty as you requested!
(tws are properly tagged as tw _____)
“Eiji! Hurry up! We’re gonna be late!”
Eiji came rushing out of the house, locking up before making his way to the car. “What took you so long?” Aslan asked. Eiji opened up his satchel to reveal various snacks and sweets. “I had to grab the essentials,” he said with a smile. Aslan chuckled. “You really think we’re gonna need them?” “Yes!! During last year’s shrine visit you whined and whined about being hungry, so this time I thought I’d come prepared.” “How do you even remember that?” “Magic, my love. Now enough questions! Let’s go already!” It had been seven years since the couple had moved to Izumo. The first year had been the toughest. Despite being months out of the hospital, Aslan had still been reeling from the attack from Lao. The realization that even after Dino was dead, even after he thought he was finally free, someone still wanted to kill him had hit him extremely hard. He had felt foolish for thinking he would ever be anything other than what Dino made him. To hunt and be hunted, was that really all there was left for him? He had almost wished he hadn’t survived. He didn’t even understand why he survived in the first place.
The decision to move to Japan with Eiji did not come easy. Almost every part of him was screaming at him to abandon that hope that he could ever have a normal life. The physical distance made it seem more unattainable, too. However, Eiji was persistent. He would text every day, and call as much as he could. He was determined to make sure Aslan saw their original plan to move to Japan through.
Eventually, Aslan caved in. He said goodbye to New York, and started a new life with his soulmate. It wasn’t until he laid in bed that night, Eiji sleeping peacefully next to him, that what he did hit him all at once. An entirely new country with nothing to protect himself with.
For a while, they stayed at the Okumura family house. Eiji’s father was still in the hospital as he learned, so it was just the two of them, Eiji’s mother, and his sister. He felt surprisingly welcomed, like he was truly part of the family. It was strange to him to meet people so truly kind and hospitable upon first meeting. It wasn’t long until it started to feel like home.
But it still didn’t feel safe. He would lay awake at night, Eiji beside him, terrified of every little noise he heard. On the rare occasions where he did sleep, he would have terrible nightmares, and when he would jolt awake he would reach for a gun that wasn’t there.
The Okumuras noticed how fidgety and cautious he was. So, they installed a security system in their house. They did everything, big and small, to help him adjust to this new life. When Aslan and Eiji moved out into their own house, they took a lot of these things with them. The security system, the protective charms, the little statues of gods that could protect them. It stunned Aslan how… good he felt to be living this life.
Izumo is where Aslan had found peace and happiness. “We’re here,” Aslan said.
They made their way through the rows of trees together, surrounded by other people also dressed for the chilly weather. Some wore their traditional kimonos, some wore more casual winter clothes. As they approached the torii gates they saw a familiar person standing there. “Mari!” Eiji shouted as he waved to his sister. She waved back as she walked up and gave them both a tight hug. “How are your studies going?” Aslan asked with a soft smile. “Well, just as tough as last year. But I’m glad to finally be visiting again!” She beamed.
When Aslan moved to Japan, Mari was right there alongside Eiji to greet him. She was thrilled to meet him, and sympathetic when she realized Aslan had lived a much different life than her and her brother. It wasn’t long until she felt like his own sister. When she moved to Tokyo for college, he nearly cried with how proud he was.
“You’re not wearing mom’s kimono this year,” Eiji pointed out.
Usually, Mari would wear a deep blue kimono with a stunningly complex design depicting a soaring phoenix and a gold-colored obi. It was passed down through many generations until it was owned by their mother, and now her. Now she was wearing a pale yellow kimono with a much simpler chrysanthemum pattern and pink obi with a chrysanthemum obidome to match. Mari gave a sad smile. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I just didn’t want something so… connected to her anymore. So my friends took me shopping and I found this. Don’t worry though, I didn’t throw away the other one or anything. It’s still in my closet.” “I think it looks good. Suits you,” said Aslan. Eiji nodded his head. This time, Mari beamed.
Being the very first day of the New Year, the temple was crowded with all sorts of people. The chozuya was completely packed, and it took them a few minutes before they were able to purify their hands. Ash always wondered if his hands could ever be truly pure, but he tried not to think about that as he poured the water. It was supposed to be a day of celebration and good luck. He didn’t want his thoughts to ruin that.
Every year, Aslan wished to the gods for protection. Protection from violence, from grief, from assault, from everything that made his life miserable for so long. This year was no different. However, there was something else this year he needed extra luck for. He prayed for that too.
Next, they went to exchange their omamori. Aslan chose the protection charm, as he did every year, and Mari chose the education charm. Usually, Eiji would get the protection charm just as Aslan did. This time he chose the success charm. “What goal do you want to be successful?” Mari asked.
“This year, I’m determined to have my own photo gallery.” It was a goal he had for a while, but this year he was going to have the luck of the gods on his side.
Finally, they needed to pull their o-mikuji.
“I’m a little nervous,” Mari jokes. Most of the time she had negative fortunes. However, this year, she would apparently have a future blessing (and small luck in her romantic relationships). Aslan was given half-blessing with lots of luck in travel. Then it was Eiji’s turn.
“Curse…”
“Well, it could be worse,” Aslan said, “at least you’re not super-mega-cursed.”
Eiji just sighed and folded up the paper.
“You’re not gonna read the rest of it?” “Nah. Not really a point.”
As they left the shrine, Eiji trailed behind and sulked.
Aslan gave Mari a nudge.
“You talk to him, you're the psychology major. I’m no good at this stuff.”
Mari nodded and went to walk beside Eiji.
“Listen, if it’s just a regular curse, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. It’s mostly just little everyday inconveniences. The worst I’ve experienced with just a regular curse is that really bad breakup I had with Yui.” “With who??” “Hush, Aslan, this isn’t about you. Anyways, I don’t think you have anything to really worry about.”
When they get to the parking lot, they have to part ways. Mari made plans to go visit some of her old friends, and Aslan and Eiji had to return home, as they were going to host dinner that night.
When Aslan and Eiji arrived home, they were greeted by a very excitable golden retriever. They had gotten him about a year ago, when he was just a year old, from a local shelter. Even then, he still acted a little bit like a puppy.
“Hey, Bud,” Aslan said as he knelt down to pet Buddy. The dog jumped up to lick his face.
“Should we start dinner now?” Eiji asked as he put down his stuff and made his way to the kitchen.
“You can. Might as well. Just in case someone comes early or something.”
“You can’t just spend all afternoon petting Buddy, you know.” “I know, I know! I’ll help you in a minute.”
Buddy didn’t seem to mind all the extra attention he was getting, though. But eventually, Aslan had to go help his partner.
“Alright, so what’s the plan?” asked Aslan as he put on his apron. He didn’t always help in the kitchen, his skill level was limited to basic survival foods, but over the years he got better and better at it. It felt very domestic, to cook alongside someone.
“How about you start on the datemaki? I’ll make the ramen.”
Aslan nodded, and they both started getting their ingredients. The kitchen was large enough that they could work around each other comfortably, and it wasn’t long until the kitchen started to smell delicious. Buddy noticed this, and trotted over to beg for treats.
“I have nothing for you,” Aslan said. Still, Buddy sat beside him, wagging his tail and giving him an expectant look. Aslan tried to ignore him as he started to whine, focusing on mixing the ingredients together.
“Here, Buddy!” Eiji called the dog, waving a large bone. Buddy instantly jumped up and ran over, wagging his tail furiously. Eiji then gave him the bone, which Buddy took to the living room happily.
“There we go, that’ll keep him occupied,” Eiji smiled. Aslan couldn’t help but smile back.
They continued cooking nonstop into the evening. As time went on, the more dishes they completed, and the more it started to look like a full meal. However, they were still pretty far from done.
Aslan sighed as he stretched. There was enough time to just take a tiny little break, he thought. He leaned against the counter and looked over at Eiji. His partner seemed distracted by something as he stared off into space.
“Hey.”
“Ah!” Eiji jumped, fumbling the bag of flour he was holding before dropping it on the counter.
“Ohhh no!” he exclaimed. Aslan chuckled slightly before helping his partner clean up the mess.
“Looks like your bad luck has officially begun.”
“Don’t even joke about that!” Eiji said as he smacked the other with a floured towel. Ash looked down at his arm then back up at Eiji with a smile.
“Really? You wanna start this?” He dipped his thumb in the flour before smudging it across Eiji’s cheek.
“You’re on!”
And that’s how it started, a full-blown flour war.
Nothing was spared. Flour was thrown, smudged, and flew everywhere. The counters, the floor, their clothes, their skin, their hair and skin, all of it was covered in at least a thin layer of flour.
It was stupid, it was childish, they had wasted an entire bag just making everything dirty. But they didn’t care. It was fun. They were having fun and messing around together. At that moment, they weren’t thinking about having to clean up and get back to cooking, they just thought about each other.
The couple just laid on the floor together as Buddy sniffed around them before licking Aslan in the face.
“No, Buddy!” Aslan squealed, pushing Buddy’s face away. The dog just wagged his tail as his owners helped each other up.
“You’re a mess,” Eiji laughed.
“Speak for yourself! You’re even dirtier than me! Go take a shower, I’ll clean this all up.”
Eiji kissed Aslan’s floured cheek before going to wash himself and his clothes.
Once everything was all clean, both of them included, they had to work faster in order to get everything done by the time their guests would arrive. Occasionally, though, they would look over at each other, and laugh silently before getting back to work.
Eventually, they had a complete New Year’s Day dinner. Eiji set the table while Aslan arranged the food into the boxes.
“Well, I’d say it looks pretty good,” Aslan said.
“We make a pretty good team!” Eiji shouted from the dining room.
When everything was all set for their guests to arrive, they high-fived to celebrate their hard work. It was the first time they cooked for New Year’s all on their own, and it was the first time they would be hosting.
The first to arrive were Ibe and his wife, Namiko. They met shortly after he returned to Japan, and she was a very kind woman, the kind that got along with all her neighbors and would check in on them from time to time. The couple greeted their hosts warmly with hugs and a bottle of sake.
Buddy was thrilled to have guests, and quickly ran over to receive pets from two of his many favorite humans.
It wasn’t much longer after that when Mari arrived, and the party officially started. Chatter filled the house as they ate. They talked about everything that had happened during the past year, everything they accomplished, and everything they hoped to accomplish this year.
“Well, I have no complaints,” Ibe said, “We traveled a lot this year for work.”
“It was great! So many fun new places we visited,” Namiko said.
“Mine was just another normal year of classes. I made a new group of friends, and they’re really great," Mari said through a mouthful of food.
“We adopted our dog,” Eiji beamed. Buddy was resting in the living room. After a while of whining for food, he had finally given up, and they knew if they mentioned him by name he would come over and start begging again.
The party went on late into the night as they continued to chat and drink. Everyone’s spirits couldn’t be higher as they celebrated the past and welcomed in the future, giving a toast for good luck. Eventually, though, the night had to end. They said their goodbyes to each other, and the guests went home, leaving Aslan and Eiji to clean up.
Aslan felt content as he washed the dishes. It was a great night, surrounded by people he loved. Seven years in Japan. He hadn’t felt like Ash Lynx in so long. He felt like he had control over his life.
A partner, a house, a dog, a legal job, friends, a little sister. The old ladies on his street fawned over him as if he was free from sin. The local coffee shop knew his face and order by heart. Nobody feared him, they were all friendly towards him, and treated him as if he really was normal.
Oftentimes it felt unreal. But as he sat on the couch, Eiji nestled into his side, he knew it was.
“Thank you,” Eiji murmured.
“For what?”
“For helping out today. For everything you do. You’re so good to me.”
Aslan smiled softly.
“I should be the one saying that to you.”
“How about we’re both good to each other?”
“Yeah,” Aslan whispered, “I can agree with that.”
The next few days of the New Year were spent with Mari. The plan was for her to go back to Tokyo on the fourth, when the holiday was over, so they wanted as much time with her as they could.
During the Japanese New Year, businesses are closed for the next three days. They couldn't go to restaurants, shops, or the market. So mostly, they just spent time at Aslan and Eiji’s house. Watching TV, playing board games, and video games on the SNES they got a few years back. They could also go to the beach.
Izumo was a coastal town, with cliff sides to the north, and a long, thin strip of beach to the west. When the three of them stepped out of the car, they were glad they brought thick coats, as there was a cold breeze.
“Come on Buddy!” Eiji said as he opened the car door. The dog jumped out of the car, wagging his tail happily.
The beach was an important place in Izumo, something Aslan had learned shortly after he moved. On the northern shore of the beach, there was a very large rock with a small shrine on top, too high for humans to reach. Every October, the gods would come to Izumo, and convene at the beach and its shrine.
Aside from it being a spiritual place, the beach was also just beautiful. It reminded Aslan of when he was younger, when he and Griffin would run across the sand and splash in the waves. Sometimes, when he and Eiji would take a walk along the beach, they would see children or a family, and he would feel a bit of nostalgia.
Now, he walked this beach with his new family.
It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was low in the sky. They were only planning for it to be a relatively short walk, and would return to the car not long after the sun fully set. It was just nice to get some fresh air.
The trio walked in silence, aside from Buddy’s pants, until Aslan broke it.
“You know, Mari, you got a pretty interesting fortune this year,” he said.
Eiji caught on to what he meant. “Yeah! Are you excited for it?”
“For the future fortune? I guess so. It’s better than I get most years,” she said.
“No no, I mean about your romance fortune,” Aslan smiled.
Mari became slightly flustered, glaring at the couple. They just laughed in response.
“You should really get back out there again,” Eiji teased, “You’re not still heartbroken over Yui are you?”
Mari lightly punched her brother in the side.
“Of course not! That was the beginning of high school! Butt out of my love life!”
“But you, dear sister, are the one that butted into my love life when I went to America.”
“I shall have you know, dear brother, that I have matured since then. Besides, the charm I gave you worked, didn’t it?”
Eiji looked over at Aslan with a smile and squeezed his hand.
“Yeah. It did.”
The sun had begun to set at this point, halfway across the horizon. It was a beautiful sight, soft pinks and reds across the sky. The three stopped to admire it, Buddy sitting beside them.
“I think this is a moment worth capturing,” Eiji said. He got the polaroid camera from around his neck. They all posed close together, Aslan picking up Buddy so he could be in the shot, with the sunset in the background.
“Smile!”
Click.
The photo printed slowly, and Eiji shook it so it could develop faster.
It showed the four of them, happy in smiling, in the place they loved so much. They waited for the sun to set fully before returning home.
Instantly, the photo went up on their wall.
Unfortunately, the fourth eventually came, and Mari had to leave. At the train station, they said their goodbyes.
“Be sure to write!” Eiji said as she waved.
“I always do!”
With that, the train doors closed, and she left Izumo. Since it was the first day of the new year that businesses were open, Aslan decided he might as well go run some errands.
“See you at home,” he said as he pecked Eiji on the cheek.
“Mhm, see you.” Eiji waved goodbye to him.
The first stop was the coffee shop. Why not, right? It was a very cozy little shop and the majority of the patrons were locals and regulars. When the barista noticed him, he smiled.
“The usual?”
Aslan nodded, and the barista got to work. The coffee shop was relatively small compared to those in America, and it was warmly lit. As Aslan sat at the counter watching the barista he felt the chill of the mid-winter weather.
“Here’s your coffee,” the barista said as he placed the mug in front of Aslan. Most people see Aslan as the type of person to drink straight black coffee. And for a while, he was. As soon as he was “old enough” to drink coffee, he would drink it without sugar or creamer. It fit the persona he had and made him seem more mature to those around him. Now he didn’t care about any of that. He made his coffee super sweet. Tons of sugar, tons of creamer, because that was the way he actually liked it.
Usually, he would take the time to stay and chat with the barista for a bit. He was a funny and friendly guy, most of the reason Aslan liked this coffee shop in particular. However, today he had the odd urge to get home as much as possible. Maybe it was just because of the chill, he thought.
The next stop was the grocery store. They only really needed things to replace what they had used to cook dinner on New Years, including the flour that they had wasted.
He absentmindedly went through the small store until a voice called out to him from behind.
“My dear Aslan!”
He turned around to see his neighbor, Mrs. Tanaka. She was an old woman, kind as can be like almost everyone else in the neighborhood, who loved to garden in her front lawn and chat him up whenever she saw him. Aslan greeted her back and smiled.
“How have you been? How’s Eiji? Did you have a good new year?”
“Everything is good. How was your trip?”
The two chatted for a bit, catching up on things that happened since the last time they talked. Most of his neighbors he could strike up a conversation with just like this. It was the kind of neighborhood he could see himself and Eiji growing old in. It was a weird thought, to grow old with someone in a small town, but it was right.
They said their goodbyes, and Aslan continued shopping as normal.
When Aslan came home, the front door was unlocked. Huh. Maybe Eiji just forgot. However, when he opened the door, he was met with a horrible sight.
There lay Buddy, unmoving, in a pool of blood.
Aslan dropped his bags and rushed to his dear pet. He picked him up gently as tears began to fall.
How did this even happen? When? Why wasn’t he here to stop it?
That’s when he saw it. The wound on Buddy’s neck. A bullet wound. Someone… shot Buddy. There was no way. He was supposed to be safe in Japan. He was supposed to be safe with Eiji. Eiji... “Eiji!” he shouted. No response. He shouted again. The house was silent. Aslan gently placed down Buddy’s body. He had to make sure Eiji was okay. Eiji had to be okay, right?
Aslan crept through the house silently, listening for any sounds that might lead him towards Eiji or the intruder. As he approached the kitchen, he saw a pot on the stove bubbling over, so he turned off the stove. This whole thing must have happened fairly recently. A knife was also missing from the drawer.
Finally, he made his way to the bedroom.
What he saw terrified him.
Eiji. Sprawled across the floor, next to the open closet doors as if he had been pulled out, a knife in his hand. A bullet in his forehead. His eyes were wide open, and his cheeks were stained with tears.
Ash fell to his knees. This couldn’t be happening. Eiji couldn’t be dead. He was dreaming, he was hallucinating, this was some kind of joke. What separated him from his old life now? What stopped him from being Ash Lynx again?
Ash sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. His love had been murdered. The bastard shot his dog, too. Why? He didn’t do anything. Neither of them did anything. It wasn’t fair.
He reached into the closet and pulled out a small box. Inside was a silver engagement ring. He picked up Eiji’s greying, cold hand and slipped the ring onto his finger.
“I know that we could never get married legally. But I still wanted to think of you as my husband. After all we had been through, didn’t we deserve that much?”
Eiji didn’t respond. His glossed-over eyes stared at nothing. Ash closed them.
“My soul will always be with you.”
--------
This might turn into a chaptered fic
Thank you to @syanara for betaing!
Tag list: @mycatshuman
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woeisme-iamwoe · 4 years ago
Text
an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 2
IwaOi this time around. My favorite ship. The world’s favorite ship...there’s so many
Undecipherable, by ioo (4k. G. canonverse)
 I’m pretty sure the author meant ‘indecipherable’, nevertheless! I am appalled that this work doesnt have more hits. Y'all are sleeping on it and that's not okay. 
The sound of the door slamming against the wall has Hajime startling back to the present. He looks at the source of the disturbance and finds himself face to face with Oikawa, red in the face with breathlessness and a leather-bound notebook tightly clutched in both of this hands. When he spots Hajime, he makes a beeline for the bench and slaps it down right next to him.
"Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."
 primavera, by tothemoon (8k. T. canonverse)
All of tothemoon’s works read so beautifully 
They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom. 
Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run), by ricekrispyjoints (27k. M. canon-divergence)
I've read this work so many times. Like, so many times and I’ve never tired from it. Gorgeous. The shift from friendship to romance felt so natural, love it. 
"I'm not healing like I should be."
In his second year of university, physical therapy just isn't cutting it. Oikawa's knee is getting worse, and he can't hide it anymore.
Or: the light angst, project-your-own-life-experiences-on-Oikawa knee surgery fic you didn't know you wanted.
 Priorities, by weirdmilk (2k. T. canonverse)
Kissy, kissy. 
‘I just -’ Oikawa begins, ‘it might be difficult to get married, sometimes, I think.’ He chews on his lip.
Iwaizumi makes a questioning noise.
‘Ah,’ Oikawa says, and then, in a rush, ‘if I didn't want a wife at all - what then? If I said that to you. If I told you I can’t see it. Like - the wedding dress. The bride. I just can’t see it.’
Iwaizumi swallows again, his heart beating much faster than the conversation warrants. He wonders whether Oikawa can hear it. ‘You’re eighteen. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.’ He snorts. ‘I mean - if we’re sharing shit, I’ve never even kissed a girl.’ He doesn’t mind admitting it. It’s not something that bothers him - he’s never prioritised girls very highly, and despite Oikawa’s largely undeserved status as Miyagi’s most eligible teenage bachelor, he doesn’t think Oikawa has ever wanted a serious relationship with any of his fan club, either.
Oikawa and Iwaizumi can't sleep before their first practice match with Karasuno.
 Before Midnight, by fathomfive (2k. G. canonverse)
Reads like a fairytale. 
The sky turns, the seasons turn over, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa track the movements of the stars. Nothing is ever quite constant, but it's close enough.
The grass is stiff with frost. They walk in silence past the raked-over vegetable garden and up the back hill, footsteps crackling, and stand side-by-side at the top of an incline that used to seem much bigger. Iwaizumi glances over but Oikawa’s already gone, eyes searching the sky with no hint of hurry, just a kind of reverent patience.
 make a bet, keep a promise, by raewrites (13k. M. canonverse)
Bet still on. 
Sometimes, in still moments, Iwaizumi wonders why out of all the people on earth he ended up with Oikawa Tooru. Why it’s his face that lingers on his fading conscious in the last moments before he falls asleep, in the first blurry seconds upon waking up again. Why when he looks to his side, he expects Oikawa to be there in the same way he expects to see five fingers on both hands, a natural extension of himself, ever present.
Why he can’t imagine a future without Oikawa in it.
It begins with a bet made between the two boys in the mid-summer of their eighth year. It starts with volleyball, but like with most things involving Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, things are never quite that simple.
 our hearts still beat the same, by knightswatch  
 two birds, by thelittlebirdthattoldyou (5k. T. canonverse)
Of heartbreaking letters and paper crane wishes. 
Five months into the term, two months after he’s stopped replying to Oikawa’s texts, the first package arrives. A small square box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, and Hajime almost trips over it on the way to his dorm.
There’s a letter attached.
Oikawa doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to put his feelings down on paper before Iwaizumi believes them. 
Through My Eyes, by anchoringsouls (2k. G. canonverse)
Okay! Okay, we were doing great with the soft, happy love up until the last part! That's great, just great!
“I think if you ever saw yourself through my eyes, you would fall in love with yourself the same way the way I did with you.” 
in time it could be ours, by deusreks (3k. T. canonverse)
Anyone wanna go back in time and make a time capsule with me only to dig it up years later and we’re actually in love?
Set post Seijou's match with Karasuno. There's a moderate amount of rolling in the dirt. No pajamas were hurt in the writing of this fic.
There, in their joint backyard, was Oikawa Tooru, clad in his silly luminescent space pajamas, digging a hole near a cherry tree.
“What the hell, Oikawa.”
Tooru stubbornly continued digging. He looked pitiful in that moment; everything that was grand about him in daylight was meaningless in the darkness. He was only a boy with a shovel whose broken heart mirrored Hajime’s own.
 we can do better than that, by spaceburgers (16k. M. canonverse)
Of course, of course, the IwaOi road trip fic. AnD thErE wAs ONly OnE bED!
Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all. 
They Say it Rains Diamonds on Jupiter, by exsao (35k. T. canonverse)
I don't know, just gorgeous. Hajime’s so in love. 
"You're in love with him."
Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.
"Yeah," he says instead.
He's never been good at lying, anyway.
 Midnight boys/sunset town, by carafin (10k words. T. Housemates AU):
The author says they played off of the fact that Oikawa oftentimes forgoes his sleep in order to work, and wrote it so that he doesn't sleep at all. This was so cute, kinda sad, mostly not. Love how Iwaizumi just goes along with whatever crazy stilch Oikawa is on. 
In which Iwaizumi Hajime grows a few chili plants, participates in an eating contest, breaks into a park, and falls in love with a man who doesn't ever sleep - not exactly in that order.
5 Reasons Why Iwaizumi Hajime's Flatmate Is A Complete Weirdo (An Incomplete List)
1. He's obsessed with that stupid bucket list of his.
2. He's the proud owner of seven truly ugly, criminally hideous movie posters with aliens on them, which he insists on pasting all over the damn living room.
3. He's always stealing Hajime's sweatshirts.
4. Sometimes, he wakes Hajime up for breakfast. At 5AM. On Saturday mornings.
5. He literally never, ever sleeps.
 The Best I Ever Had, by FindingSchmomo (62k words. T. Canon-divergent):
You’ve read it, your mum’s read it, your dog has probably read it (you really need to take facial recognition for him off your phone, he’s got some weird nighttime habits). So basically this fic caused me physical pain and then pumped me full of morphine and now I’m good! Beautiful read, hated Oikawa for a while, Iwaizumi is the only boy I would ever feel safe alone with. 
A story of separation and time lost. Oikawa and Iwaizumi lose contact, and life goes on. Now, a decade later and back in Japan, Oikawa wonders if he can pick the pieces back together, despite knowing Iwaizumi has moved on. A story of their past, present and future, pieced together by shaky hands.
 darlin', your head's not on right, by aruariandance (13k words. T. canonverse)
Again, I’m pretty sure anybody who's anybody has read this fic and for good reason! Super sweet realizing you're in love fic. Makes me reconsider wanting to get married. 
'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”
Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.
“I was thinking our Aoba johsai colors to go for more, you know, softer tones? Besides, I’ve always looked great in that sea foam green color. Oh, and I guess you look decent in it, too.” He grins, saccharine sweet, and Iwaizumi has never been so tempted to knock one of his perfect pearly white teeth right out of his stupid mouth."
or,
Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.
 the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle, by kittebasu (66k. T. canon divergent)
Is this one of the most famous Iwaoi fic? I don’t know. Looks like it, I know it's my personal favorite. Where Oikawa studies bugs for a living and can’t seem to come to terms with his feelings. Very angsty, love that in a fic. 
Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.
 Terrarium, by sausaged (11k. T. Post-canon)
Honestly, I’m so surprised this fic doesnt have more hits! It’s so good! Made me ache! I love the memories and character growth shown through the growing of the terrarium, absolutely adore that kind of symbolism. So beautiful, give it some love because it's one of my absolute favorites. 
He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).
At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?
Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?
 A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.
 Lips like sugar, by ohhotlamb (8k. T. canonverse)
Why did my childhood best friend never offer to help me practice kissing only for us to realize we were only interested in each other? I had a fake high school experience. 
Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.
 Falling Slowly, by bravely (commovente) (3k. T. canonverse)
So special, imagine loving one person, and one person only like this for the entirety of your life. This is getting too sappy, I want off of this ride. 
over the years, some things change; but over the years, some things stay mostly the same.
(alternatively, mornings with oikawa and iwaizumi over the years).
 No sleep in the city, by loveclouds (7k. T. canonverse)
Mass/volume = Iwaizumi, apparently. (Please. If anyone gets this absolutely horrific joke, lets elope).
Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.
 Time, by surveycorpsjean (5k. E. canonverse)
Growing older together. 
When they're twenty-three, their story only begins.
 Everything With You, by Ellessey (14k. E. canonverse)
Came damn near to crying, you can just feel Iwaizumi’s pain. Fight scene was probably the most emotion evoking one I’ve read in a long while. 
‘Hajime still loves Oikawa, but he understands now. Oikawa can't look at him and see someone he could potentially date.
And that makes it easier to not focus on the little things that used to drive him crazy—Oikawa's long legs, the way he's always hanging off of Hajime, how his whole face changes when he gets ready for a jump serve, and he looks like he could take on the entire world and win.
This new arrangement though, this living together situation, is presenting a new set of variables that must be adjusted to, and the nakedness is one of them.’
--
For years, being Oikawa’s best friend has worked out fine. Hajime is hopelessly in love with him, but it’s enough. Then Oikawa—who, by all accounts, has never been anything but determinedly, assuredly straight—gets a boyfriend. Or a boy friend-with-benefits. Hajime doesn’t know, and he doesn’t give a shit about the definition.
What he knows is that remaining best friends is starting to seem a bit too painful (way too painful) to be considered a solid option.
 The Best Best, by rikke (12k. T. canonverse/future fic)
Takeru is a whole mood. Don’t want kids, but I do want domesticity and this fic feeds me well.
“Congratulations, Iwa-chan! You’re a dad!” Iwaizumi hears as soon as the door opens. He’s dealt with Oikawa for all of his twenty-one years of age now, but this declaration is still sufficiently disturbing enough that he turns from his place on the couch and braces himself for whatever Oikawa has done this time.
 Or the one where Iwaizumi and Oikawa babysit Takeru for a week.
 cheek kisses, by ohhotlamb (G. 3k. Future fic)
Sooo cute!! 
“Every time,” Hajime murmurs, “every time I see you again I remember how fuckin’ crazy I am about you.”
 Routine, by snoqualmie  (2k. T. canonverse)
Again, anyone wanna be my childhood best friend so we can put face masks on each other and fall in love? I died, truly. 
Iwaizumi is fourteen years old, horny too often and angry all the time, and he’s just starting to notice that Tooru’s legs are really long, that his lips are kinda soft looking, and his fingers feel good pressed under his jaw.
 Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, by sunsmasher (19k. G. canon divergence)
Be wary, I would give this fic an upper rating to probably Teen and the follow-up fic is Explicit. But, Oikawa on the Japanese national team is just a dream as is, but add in a rekindling friendship and an angsty make out sesh? Mwah, delizioso. 
It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.
He has, however, sent Iwaizumi tickets for the 2024 Los Angeles Summer Games.
“So go,” says Matsukawa's voice. “It’s only a few weeks. You’ve got a whole city to hide in if it gets awkward, and if it doesn’t get awkward, well…”
It’s like watching the future reconfigure, like being in high school again, watching team after team fall to Oikawa’s faultless planning and shameless charm.
“I’ll get to watch a whole lot of volleyball,” Hajime says, and resigns himself to fate and/or Oikawa Tooru.
“Hey, when you get there, can you bag a gymnast for me?” Hanamaki asks, and Matsukawa squawks.
 Chasing Paper Suns, by carafin (10k. T. Future fic)
Again with the growing up and coming back together, this time with more angst than the last. Lovely, really lovely read. 
Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart.
Some days Hajime likes to think of himself as Oikawa’s counterpart—the two of them blending into a single devastating unit, the invincible setter and his unyielding ace, the bond between them unbreakable and true. Other days he feels like he is chasing after a rising sun, always running and running with his eyes fixed on the distance, trying to cross a chasm that stretches on without end, caught in an endless and exhausting pursuit.
 the yellow room, by ohhotlamb (14k. T. canonverse/future fic)
Makki and Mattsun see bullshit and call you out on your bullshit. 
“I told you, we broke up like six months ago. We’re not dating anymore.”
Hanamaki eyes him suspiciously. “You live together.”
“Yeah, so?”
“There are pictures of you two kissing stuck to your refrigerator.”
Hajime shrugs. “That wasn’t my idea. Anyways, they’re good pictures. Good lighting.”
 the river runs, by tothemoon (11k. T. post-breakup)
My heart ACHES. Happy ending, promise! Just read it. 
One year since their breakup, Oikawa Tooru starts a list of daily reminders, tips, and tricks called HOW TO FORGET ABOUT IWAIZUMI HAJIME, and he’s determined to make it stick.
This is a firsthand account of how to deal (and rather spectacularly, at that).
 I sure hope that guy gets fired, by Xov (29k. T. canonverse/time loop au)
The only thing better than one confession, is MULTIPLE confessions. Oikawa trusts Iwaizumi unshakably, and that's beautiful. 
It was the fourth time experiencing the exact same day that Iwaizumi Hajime reluctantly admitted to himself that something was very wrong. 
 my only friend was the man in the moon (until i met you), by ohhotlamb (7k. T. canonverse)
Just so innocent and sweet. Oikawa said ‘effort’.
In which Oikawa has a life-altering revelation, and Hajime is starting to think it involves him.  
 Bet On It, by originalblue (13k. E. canonverse)
Tooru being nice for a week? That can only end one way… with a d*ck in Hajime’s mouth. 
Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week. 
 especially for tender ones like us, by viverella (17k. T. canonverse/post break-up)
Gods! See? See what I mean? How could I forget about a work as heart wrenchingly beautiful as this? Give it some love, actually, all of the love. 
The worst part of it all, Tooru thinks to himself sometimes, is that even as they fought and kicked and screamed and tore each other to shreds, it was never that Tooru stopped loving Iwaizumi any less. The worst part of it all, he thinks, is that loving Iwaizumi turned out to not be enough.
(OR: on finding the right person at the wrong time and learning how to pick up the pieces)
 sunset town, by skiecas (33k. T. canon-divergent)
Another work that I just CANNOT understand why it doesn't have more hits. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I almost cried. 
In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.
Two years down the road, reconciling his lifelong dream with his lifelong love proves to be the greatest challenge.
 of odd numbers and intimate regrets, by bravely (commovente) (5k. T. post-canon/one night stand au)
Basically, Tooru and Hajime sleep together after not speaking for seven years and of course there’s feelings and angst and a belated chance at happiness and a life together. 
Tooru’s spent the last seven years of his life in a carefully constructed schedule that is, he realises now, as much a habit as it was a way to forget about the person in front of him.
[or, the one night stand AU between two people more than friends but not quite lovers, measuring the passage of time in distance and long-gone memories, the expansion and contraction of the spaces between their fingers each time.]
 cross my heart, open wide, by acchikocchi (7k. T. canonverse)
Super cute, super short. Realizing you're on a date with the wrong person one-shot. 
For a minute Hajime doesn't know what to say. Everything and nothing crowds his mind, leaving no room to think. That he's never tried this. That volleyball's over. That he's graduating in five months. That it would be really nice, at least once, to go on a date with a good-looking guy.
 Hajime goes on a date. It's not with Oikawa. 
 Fernweh, by oikawashoyo (19k. G. canonverse/post time skip)
A mature(ish) Tooru?? I love works that show Tooru growing and living happily in Argentina and this one is just beautiful. (Plus! Plus, Skai did a piece on it as well and I love ALL their work so you can visualize everything). Love it. 
Argentina is stretching out before him, an opportunity, a challenge. He is reminded of his losses, his insecurities, his disappointments; sees them form a tall, tall wall blocking his path to success. He takes a deep breath and knows he is going to shatter it.
In which Oikawa's whole life is spent longing for the horizon — in the form of a dream, a home, and a boy.
 i breathe easily in your arms, by orphan_account (2k. M. canonverse)
Soft, soft sex
When, after completing their high school graduation ceremony and heading home to enjoy their freedom, Oikawa had pulled him into his room and pressed his lips hesitantly against Iwaizumi’s own, it seemed an inevitable development in the unfolding narrative of their shared existence.
Despite years of having a bed to himself, the sensation of another body taking up space in his sheets, curling against his chest, creating warmth, feels natural in much the same way.
 old and new, by Mysecretfanmoments (5k. T. canon divergence)
Finally a fic where they don't freak out on confession and it's sweet. 
“You seem—sad.” Was that the right word? Others sprang to mind: desperate, lonely, anxious.
Tooru looked away. “Are you going to make me say it?”
“Say what?”
Tooru folded his arms, sighed. “I missed you, of course.”
Hajime swallowed.
“No need to look that way. I told you, I’m not one of your macho man buddies. I’m allowed to say stuff like that without being embarrassed—”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Hajime complained. “No need to be so defensive. I’ve missed you too.”
“Oh?” Tooru seemed to get a little of his own back, leaning forward on his elbows. “What about me did you miss?”
((Going to separate universities, Hajime and Tooru learn the true meaning of "distance makes the heart grow fonder"))
 all i wanted was you, by spaceburgers (6k. E. college/fwb au)
This was more emotional than I thought a 6k friends with benefits fic could be, okay? Okay. 
Wherein Hajime and Tooru are fuck buddies, Hajime curses his treacherous heart, and Tooru is bad with feelings. 
 we shine like diamonds, by whitemiists (26k. T. canon divergence)
I couldn't not include this work. It deals with internalized homophobia so well and I really resonate with it. 
In all seriousness, I’m very lucky to live in a country where my sexuality is widely accepted and my heart goes out the LGBTQIA+ peoples who are forced to hide themselves. You are loved and your sexuality and gender-identity are not wrong and never will be.  
Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.
"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."
 Look For Him, by Leryline (18k. E. canonverse)
A collection of kisses. I love Hajime’s grandmother. 
She laughs gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so heartbroken before, Hajime.”
Iwaizumi sighs and prods at the mackerel with a chopstick. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s just different, you know? Like Oikawa pissed me off so much that now he’s not here I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“But you weren’t always annoyed with him, were you?” his grandmother smiles serenely and takes a sip of her tea. “My, my, Hajime, old women see everything. I saw you out there with my finches, when you were kissing Tooru’s nose. Your mother and father used to do the very same thing, you know, when they were younger. And look how long they’ve lasted. I hope you and Tooru last, Hajime. He’s very good for you.”
-
Oikawa has kissed Iwaizumi more times than either of them can count; it’s a constant thing, their lips never really leaving the other’s skin. There are, however, times when they’ve kissed that are burned into their memories. Eight of them, to be precise.
 film reel life, arsenicjay (8k. T. canon divergence)
Such a unique and creative idea! Reading from the eyes of a camera, so beautiful!
The only person Iwaizumi is lying to is himself, when he insists: I am not in love with Oikawa Tooru. 
 how to let your planets align, by tether (tothemoon) (15k. T. end of the world au)
This is the only remotely non-happy ending fic I will be including on here, and it's purely because it's a gorgeous read. And yes, I ached. Your lips, my lips, apocalypse. 
It is the last day on earth, December 2nd, 1985, when you realize you're in love with him.
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mosylufanfic · 3 years ago
Text
Color My World (just paint it with your love)
For the Killervibe Gift Swap, a gift for @ava-has-a-closet-murderboard. Eventually I hope to get everyone a gift but it’s going real slow, y’all!
You see in color when you meet your soulmate AU. (Also obviously Ronnie died the first time and didn't come back as Firestorm, sorry Ronnie.)
Title from the song Color My World by Petula Clark
Color My World (just paint it with your love)
When Ronnie died, the world went grey in an instant. 
Even as Caitlin screamed his name, she knew it was hopeless. Just the same as the world had exploded with color between one blink and the next the moment she'd met him, it reversed the moment his heart stopped beating.
-
For years, Caitlin assumed that Cisco saw the world in the same shades of grey as she did. She knew he was friendly and flirty and went on dates, and well - he was Cisco, after all. So she always expected to see him come rushing into the cortex one day, looking around at everything and seeing the colors after having met the person he was supposed to spend his life with.
So when she walked into his lab one day to find him comparing two apparently identical swatches, it was a surprise - but it wasn't.
"Cisco!" she cried, and he whirled to face her, stuffing both swatches behind his back. "Are you seeing in color?"
"Um, I - what? No. I was - comparing - um." He sagged. "Yes."
"You met your soulmate! Who is it? When can I meet them? What's their name?" She realized he wasn't looking as excited as people usually did in that first flush of color and love. "What's wrong?"
"I haven't met anyone new."
"Well, of course you have, you're seeing in color -"
"I met them years ago."
"Years? You've been seeing color all this time? You never said anything."
He nodded. "Sorry. Yeah."
"But when? And why didn't you - why aren't you - what happened?" Dramatic, overblown scenarios raced through her head, taken from cheesy cable movies with titles like "Soulmate to a Serial Killer.”
"Nothing happened, exactly. It's - " He looked away. "They're my soulmate, but I'm not theirs."
She goggled at him. You heard about those things, of course. Small percentages. Sad stories whispered behind hands. But knowing Cisco was one of them - "How do you know?"
"They'd already met their real soulmate when I met them."
She shook her head, attempting to wrap her head around it. "Are you sure? Have you told them? Have you talked about it at all?"
"Yes, I'm a hundred percent sure."
How could the universe be this cruel? Warm, laughing, loving Cisco, to be matched with someone who wasn't matched to him. To watch from the sidelines as they built a life with someone else. 
It was almost as horribly unfair as losing your soulmate. No - no. More unfair. She'd at least had a life with Ronnie, no matter how short it had been. Cisco never had that with his soulmate, and never would. 
"Why didn't you ever say anything? I always thought - "
"Because I didn't want you looking at me exactly the way you're looking at me right this very moment. Like I just told you my puppy has cancer."
She tried to rearrange her face. "I'm just -"
"Caitlin, it's fine. It happens." He shook his head a little. "I'm sorry I kept it from you."
"Who else knows?"
"Barry. And probably Iris."
"Has he met them?" A flush of - jealousy? she didn't know what to call it - washed up her throat.
"No, he doesn't even know who they are. Just that they exist." He shrugged and tossed the swatches on to the table. "Couldn't exactly keep it from him when we were designing suits together."
She said very quietly, "Did Ronnie know?"
He shook his head hard. "No, he didn't. No. Not even a suspicion. Look, I don't talk about it because there's nothing I can do about it, and there's nothing you can do about it, either. A soulmate is a soulmate, right? Even when they're not."
She reached to put her arm around his shoulder. "Cisco - "
Gently but firmly, he shrugged her hand away. "I've come to terms with it. It's just the way things are."
She swallowed hurt. "But you've been dating. Haven't you?" He had an app on his phone, and sometimes he would take it out and swipe through photos. She'd thought it was a regular app that just set you up on dates with other people who hadn't met their soulmate yet.
"It's a different kind of app. We all know the score. Nobody's on there to meet their soulmate. Just to find a good time."
"Is it just people who are - " She floundered. There was a term for people like Cisco, but to her mind, it was nasty and rude.
He said it anyway. "Third wheels?"
She made a face. It sounded even worse now that she knew it applied to him.
"Most of us, yeah. But there's a pretty good number of people who - uh - " He looked at her sidelong. "Who lost theirs."
"Oh." She couldn't imagine seeking anyone out after Ronnie. "Really?"
"Yup. I mean, they're not dead just because - well, anyway, if you ever wanna - you know. See the app. You can."
"Thank you,” she said. “But don't try to distract me. How long has it been?"
"A few years," he said. "Look, it's just a thing about me. Like having brown eyes and vibes and a rockin' fashion sense. Can you do me a solid, as a friend?"
"Anything. Of course."
"Let's never talk about this again."
Painted into a corner, she bit her lip. "Okay. If that's what you want."
"It's what I want."
Of course, she hadn't gotten the chance to ask the question that burned the most. Who was it? Who could possibly overlook Cisco? 
But she'd promised.
-
She thought about it, though. She thought about it a lot, in her cold bed, in her grey house with all the colors she couldn't see anymore. At her kitchen table, set for one. When she opened up her phone and looked at the last picture Ronnie had sent her, a selfie with a particularly gigantic donut.
In black and white, of course. Like everything else, all the pictures of him had drained of color when he died. It made everything sting worse. She'd seen his face in color from the beginning, but now she couldn't remember the exact shade of his eyes or the different tones of his hair.
She didn't ask Cisco anything more, but she did go down a rabbit hole of research. One-sided soulmate was the technical term they used in social science surveys. OSS for short. She looked at reams and reams of statistics, quantitative and qualitative and longitudinal studies. Some of the OSS's said they were happy, some were depressed, some simply accepted it. Surprisingly, the stats on their overall mental well-being weren't all that different from people who were with their soulmates, or still waiting to find them. 
Some one-sided soulmates spent their lives alone. But others dated and slept with and sometimes even married others like them.
She gave into curiosity and read the research on people who'd lost soulmates. She found the stats there very much the same. A little more depression, maybe, but there were a surprising amount of people who did just as the one-sided soulmates did - dating, sleeping with, marrying people they met. 
Sometimes those people even found a second soulmate. 
When that particular revelation popped up on her screen, she dropped a full cup of coffee and completely ruined her keyboard.
-
The day everything changed was just a regular day at first. The Flash and Vibe were out investigating a sketchy warehouse, and Caitlin was trying not to fret while reading yet another study on people who fell outside the soulmate norm. 
"Cisco!" she cried as Barry whooshed them into the cortex, almost doubled over trying to support his weight. "What happened?"
"Got my bell rung," he slurred. "Ow, dude, ow, gentle -  "
"The guy knocked him into a concrete pillar," Barry reported, settling Cisco onto the edge of the bed. 
"No, don’t lay him down. 'll take care of him. You go get changed." As he whooshed out, she gloved up quickly and checked Cisco's pupils. They were the same size, and he denied any nausea or dizziness, but she’d still have to monitor him for signs of a concussion. She set her penlight down and gasped.
"What?"
“You’re bleeding.”
He wiped his face and blood smeared across the back of his hand. “Just a bloody nose. I’ll be fine in a minute.”
She tsked and pressed a square of gauze to his nose, gently feeling its shape. It wasn’t broken. “Are your teeth okay? Your tongue?”
“Mhm.”
“Don’t lean back! Just breathe through your mouth.” After holding it a few minutes, she checked, and indeed, the blood had stopped its flow. She let him straighten up. "How's your head?"
"Could use an aspirin."
"You got it." She turned away, but before she pulled her gloves off, she looked at the blood smeared over the fingertips and soaking into the gauze.
Against the light grey of her gloves and the white of the gauze, Cisco's blood showed scarlet.
-
At first, she thought she’d been mistaken. It had just been the blood, not anything else.
But then the sprinkles on the ice cream he brought her the next day showed up vividly blue and pink and orange against the rich brown of the treat. And the chips and guac she shared with him the day after that were pale yellow and brilliant green. 
Color seeped back into her world a little at a time, mostly following Cisco. It was so different than before, but so wonderful at the same time. She'd forgotten how vivid red could be, how lavender was so delicate, how green was so rich. Sometimes she would just sit and stare at whatever had lit up today.
He noticed, of course. "What's wrong?" he asked one day, as the sunlight filtering through the skylights in the cortex picked out rich highlights in his hair.
She shook her head. "Nothing."
"You were staring."
"There was a - a bug on you. But it flew away," she added hastily as he swiped at his hair. 
It wasn’t like it had been with Ronnie. Then, it had been instantaneous, like a finger snap. Not this slow bloom of color, spreading outward from Cisco like watercolors soaking into paper, until every corner of the world had a different hue and shade. But Cisco wasn’t Ronnie, and she didn’t want him to be. 
She worried about it sometimes. Did this mean Ronnie hadn't been her soulmate? That she didn't love him anymore? But she knew he had, and she knew she did. She would never stop.
It was just that she was one of the lucky very few who got a second soulmate. 
And then the thought followed: what if Cisco's mystery soulmate was her?
She turned it over in her head, as carefully as an antique china plate. The facts fit. She had been with Ronnie when she and Cisco had met. She even remembered them telling him about their first meeting, over dinner or something. She struggled to remember his reaction, what he'd said or looked like, but couldn't. 
And when Ronnie had died and the color had drained from the world, she'd told him that too. 
She pressed her fingers to her eyes, watching the newly colorful starbursts behind her lids. "Oh, Cisco," she murmured to his past self. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I never saw. I know you couldn't tell me, but I wish I'd realized you were hurting."
Watching her with Ronnie must have been torture for him. Watching her after Ronnie died - that must have been torture in a different way, her loss of color confirming every day that he wasn't her soulmate. 
But it was going to be different now. If they were soulmates, he deserved to know.
And if they weren't - 
Her stomach pitched uneasily at the thought.
-
Her heart thundered in her chest as she made her way down to his lab. She'd kept this secret for a month now, clasped to her chest. And he'd kept it for years. This was going to change everything,
For the better?
She hoped.
He was head and shoulders into the souped-up treadmill Barry used to test his speed, a tool box open next to him. "Hey," he called out as she came in. She never could surprise him. Was that a soulmate thing, a Vibe thing, or just a Cisco thing?
"Hi," she said brightly, almost shrilly. She swallowed  hard and perched herself on the edge of his table, wiping her sweaty palms on her favorite skirt. "What are you working on?"
"Oh, just tuning this old girl up. How about you? What brings you down here?"
"Do I have to have a reason to come down here?"
He peered at her over his shoulder. "No, but you sure look like you do."
She wiped her palms again. "I was just thinking."
"Uhoh," he said cheerfully, turning back to the treadmill.
"About your soulmate."
Although he didn't say anything, all the cheer sucked itself out of the room.
"About, um, when you met them, and how long it's been, and -"
"Caitlin," he said in a heavy voice. "You said you wouldn't talk about this anymore."
"I know, I did, but I'm just curious - "
"You promised," he said. "You made me a promise."
"I - I did - "
He straightened up again, crossing his arms, resting the greasy wrench against his shoulder. His brows loomed heavy and serious. "So why the hell are you breaking it now?"
Okay, this wasn't broaching the subject like she'd thought it would. "You should put that wrench down," she said. "You're getting grease all over that shirt."
"Subject changed appreciated, but why - "
“And I like that shirt," she said. "I like that color on you. “It’s very flattering.”
He dropped the wrench on his foot.
When the clanging and the yelping and the jumping up and down and the checking that his foot wasn't broken had all died down, he wiped his greasy fingers on a rag, getting the fingers greasier. "So," he said levelly, "you met someone. That's great. That- that's awesome. What's their name?"
Oh. She hadn't expected this.
"Cisco," she said. "It's you."
He looked up, pain filling his eyes, and probably not from his foot. "No, it's not."
"It is," she insisted. Oh, wow, she hadn't expected him to be this stubborn about it.
"No," he said. "No. You met someone and you didn't realize, that's all. I don't know why you think it's me, because we've known each other for years, and it's never been me before." His voice cracked.
She reached out to take his hands. "But it is. I've been seeing in color for a month now. Just a little at first. But now it's everywhere. And it started with you. Cisco, it's you."
He shook his head slowly. "How?"
She shrugged. “I’ve been researching. Did you know it's a whole field in social science? The study of soulmates. Amatology. It's so much more complicated then everybody thinks, Cisco. We always hear how you know in the first moment, and it's just that one person, forever, and - and that's not accurate! You can have more than one. And you know somebody for years before they become your soulmate. And that's what happened to me. With you," she added firmly.
He was pressing his lips together. "It was - " he said, then stopped. Swallowed. Took a breath. "It was the first moment with me. The first color I saw was the gold of your engagement ring."
"Oh," she breathed. 
He swallowed again. There were tears in his eyes. "I've loved you for years, Caitlin, so I need you to tell me right now. Swear to me you're sure, and you're not screwing with me, and you - " His voice sank to a whisper. "And you absolutely know I'm your soulmate."
"I'm sure," she said. "I'm not screwing with you. I absolutely know that you're my soulmate, Cisco Ramon. And you know why? Because I don’t want it to be anybody but you."
He kissed her, hard, pulling her close. She had half a thought for her meticulously selected outfit, then mentally consigned it to the rag bin and kissed her soulmate back.
When they had to come up for air, he rested his forehead against hers. "I never wanted it to be anybody but you, either," he breathed.
"Even when - Ronnie?"
He nodded. "Because he made you happy. I wanted that more than anything else."
She traced the lines of his face, the arch of his brows, the curve of his lips. Dear and familiar and beautiful. "You're going to make me happy too."
FINIS
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