#to write like nothing is hitting right now - fandom are boring and stale

[lostchildofthenewworld]

need a fic i can sink my teeth into, want to feel inspired.

[fanfickittycat]

Time After Time

TITLE: Time After Time

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One Shot

AUTHOR: fanfickittycat

FANDOM: Haikyuu!!

CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

GENRE: Hurt/Comfort

FIC SUMMARY: The lack of a response after confessing your feelings to Ushijima leaves you heartbroken, but all it took was some time

RATING: T 

AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: My stupid sad brain and my desire to write about Ushijima combined to make this. If you’d like to read it on AO3 you can find it here

The words hung in the air as soon as they left your mouth. After the months of pining, and dreaming, and trying to get him to confess first, you had finally decided to bite the bullet and admit that you were hopelessly in love with the Ace of the Schweiden Adlers. The silence that followed was painful. You avoided his gaze, instead looking at your shoes, a pair of dark heels that you were hoping would bolster your confidence. In fairness to them, they had made you feel powerful and poised, but now it felt like balancing on stilts.

“Oh” his deep voice rumbled, breaking through your thoughts and sending the butterflies in your stomach fluttering all at once. You peeked up to look at him. He was so handsome. Tall and solid, with his bag slung over his shoulder from practise earlier in an effortless way that you admired. He always looked so cool without even meaning to. He was looking up at the pinks and oranges of the sky, letting the light of the setting sun cast his face in gold. Your heart somersaulted in your chest as you waited for something to follow. Anything. But he remained quiet, as the spring breeze ruffled his hair.

Dread began to set in. The flush of embarrassment and the chill of rejection created a cocktail of emotion inside of you, but you pressed your lips together and forced the sob in your throat to stay still. You knew you were going to cry and there was no stopping it, you just wanted to make sure you were away from him before the tears spilled.

“I-it’s okay” you said, your throat felt hoarse even though you hadn’t said much. You attempted to straighten up, to show him that you accepted his refusal of your affection. You tilted your head up, feeling the threat of tears in your eyes. Your lip quivered but you stayed rigid in your stance.

“I’m sorry I bothered you” you managed to say before a hot tear streamed down your face. You turned, letting go of a breath you had been holding for what felt like weeks. You marched away, willing your legs to take steps even though it felt like you suddenly forgot how to walk. You rounded a corner and stepped back so that the cool exterior of one of the buildings pressed against your back. You had half hoped to hear footsteps following after you; a cry of your name or something. Nothing. Dizziness filled your mind and you slid down the wall, hugging your legs to your chest as you wept into your knees. You knew you were being pathetic but really, you had believed that there was something there. Ushijima was always standoffish, but you had felt something kindled between you, a soft warmth that emitted every time his lips tugged into a small smile for you, or the way he’d listen to you and offer his advice sagely. Last week you had gone to a practise game of his and you’d cheered loudly enough to catch his attention. He had waved to you and even though the action was small it made you mindlessly happy for days. His cold demeanour meant that he didn’t do things like that for just anyone… But perhaps his tiny gestures were just that, insignificant. Maybe he was humouring you? Perhaps he smiled just because it was the basic kind thing to do; and he listened and offered advice because he wanted you to stop going on about your problems; maybe he just waved because he was being polite. The realisation sunk deep into you, seeping into your bones. You felt heavy and tired by the revelation. You stood up shakily, grasping at the brick wall behind you for support. You ended up grazing your hand a little, but the soreness felt good in a weird way. It brought your attention away from the turmoil in your heart. You made yourself walk home, wanting to take your time because you were afraid of having to confront the emotional maelstrom in you again. You felt like hell when you woke up the next morning. Your eyes burned, and when you rubbed them, you winced at the soreness. They felt swollen. Your nose hurt too from the constant blowing, and your mouth felt dry and stale. Pathetic was the first word in your mind. Followed quickly by sad, tragic, and pitiable. You had things to do today, places to be that weren’t your bedroom. You ran through the list of chores in your head: it was Saturday so you should change your sheets today, and clean the bathroom, and you needed to make a grocery list and go out to buy the stuff, and then you should get a head start on some work that would make Monday easier. You closed your eyes again and when you opened them two hours had gone by. You groaned into your pillow. Not only were you unfortunate, but you were also now behind on everything. A true mess. You pushed yourself to go take a shower, making the water colder than you usually liked in an attempt to shock you back to life.

You completed your tasks at home, but you felt lifeless doing it, like a zombie. The satisfaction that came with completing the chores didn’t come. You hoped the fresh air would help, and looked over your grocery list, feeling listless. You didn’t want to put any effort into the way you looked today, opting to throw on a pair of jeans that were ripped at the knee not because they came like that, but because they were old. Your hoodie was huge on you, but you had bought it with the deluded intention that this is what it would feel like to wear Ushijima’s. You looked at his clothes so fondly sometimes, jealous of the way they got to be so close to him. One night he had lent you his jacket because it was colder than the weather reports had predicted and you almost swooned. His jacket was sturdy and warm like him, and it smelt vaguely minty and clean like him. You had ended up falling asleep in his jacket, liking the way it felt like he was holding you.

The memory flooded back into your mind when you browsed the soap section, prompting your heart to race as you looked for his brand. When your eyes landed on it felt like a relief. A painful one, perhaps, but a relief all the same. Your hands hovered near the bottle. This was a way to stay close to him even when you couldn’t physically be with him. A link to the stoic man who had your heart. It was a little more expensive than the one you usually bought, and it stung that your normal brand was on sale, but you wanted to allow yourself one indulgence.

Outside the air was colder than last night. You’d heard something this morning about a cold spell hitting Tokyo as you folded your laundry, and you wished that you brought a scarf with you. Your arms ached from the weight of the bag in your hands. In the process of psyching yourself up to face the world you had forgotten your own bags and had to pay for some in the supermarket. The plastic, though biodegradable, felt thin in your cold hand. You gripped it tightly and turned to go home but your determination was interrupted by the thump of items hitting the ground.

“Fuck” you cursed under your breath, looking down at your groceries strewn about on the pavement. You could’ve cried there and then.

“I didn’t know you favoured this brand too” your blood turned to ice as your eyes snapped to the figure before you. He regarded the bottle calmly before starting to pick up the pack of spaghetti, and the bag of apples.

“U-Ushijima?” You hated that you stuttered but your mind was completely blank at this point. You couldn’t even fathom how you were able to form that many syllables.

“Here” he started to pile your things into his own empty bag.

“W-wait.” You put a handout to stop him, but he ignored you, continuing to put the rest of your things in his own grocery bag.

“It’s cold. Didn’t you hear the weather report?” He asked, finally standing to his full height. He looked down at you, head cocking to the side slightly like a spaniel. He began to unwind his scarf and placed it around your neck instead. The brush of his fingers against your bare neck made you shiver.

“What’re you doing?” you mumbled, looking down again. The sense of déjà vu was not lost on you as you regarded your everyday sneakers.

“I came to buy groceries” he said bluntly, and despite all the pain and anxiety coursing through you, you smiled. He was always so reliable.

“I was hoping I would run into you” he said after a beat, his hand held your chin making you gasp. He tilted it up, so you were no longer looking down, and this time he was meeting your gaze. His dark olive eyes bore into your own with an intensity that was difficult to hold.

“You don’t need to apologise or anything.”

“You’re wrong” he said “I do. I’m sorry.” You nodded at his words, disappointed once again that you were still holding out for him.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, I…” he stopped himself, and pressed his lips into a firm line. You blinked a couple of times to make sure you were seeing things right. Ushijima was so candid all the time that the sight of him hesitating was new. He looked away momentarily.

“I return your affections” he said, and you stared in awe as a faint pink blush blossomed in his cheeks.

“You don’t have to say that.” He looked you in the eyes again, softer this time. His thumb absentmindedly began to stroke itself across your heated cheeks.

“Yes I do. I love you and I’m sorry I couldn’t say it yesterday.”

“Ushi…” you practically melted despite the chill in the air. He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto your forehead, making your head swim.

“Come” he said, letting go of your face in exchange for your hand “I’ll make dinner.” You made no attempt to protest against his wishes, instead letting him lead you in the direction of his own apartment.

“I love you too.”

[ingravinoveritas]

redundant-angel replied to your post “Completely agreed. I don’t hate anyone who ships...”

Thank you. I am not really in the fandom but I think Dani/Malcolm is the most stale and forced ship possible. They have no chemistry, nothing in common, and the character of Dani is as dry as a piece of toast. Even the dream Malcolm had of them as a couple was boring. Give me Malcolm/Edrisa any day over Brightwell.

I think you’ve hit the nail right on the head here, and I agree with all of your comments (though I am more or less neutral on Malcolm/Edrisa). But I love your description of Dani as “dry as a piece of toast,” because that is completely accurate. I don’t know if it’s the actress or merely the writing (my friend @daziechane said in a reblog of my other post that the women on this show need better writers, and I’m inclined to agree), but that chemistry between Dani and Malcolm is definitely lacking.

Also, if Dani is a dry character, then by contrast both Martin and his thicc ass are what I’d call “juicy.” Martin has oodles of chemistry with nearly every person he comes into contact with on screen, to where you could ship him with any number of characters. Jessica, Dr. Vivian...hell, a few episodes back all Martin did was call Gill “Gilly,” and I was like YES, I NOW SHIP MARTIN/GIL, GIVE ME ALL THE DUELING DADDY FICS PLEASE.

Anyway, yes, I am totally with you on Brightwell, and the other comments you made about how suddenly it seems to have been pushed forward, and the resultant feeling of a lack of inspiration about the pairing. (Also I am down with Malcolm/Edrisa if she gets to finally Domme him, because I think he would actually benefit from that...)

[mrfunnybone]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; MUN & MUSE - MEME.

FILL OUT & REPOST ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm. TAGGED BY: Stolen from @battleshell TAGGING: @ladydreemurr @wdvoided @puzzlebones @flametendingbartender, @the-judge-of-bones @witchandateashop, and @bravest

MY MUSE IS:   CANON / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. [Some would say overly so.]

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. [ somehow...yes? Apparently?]

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. [ Yes. Most players agree that Sans fight is one of the toughest in the game, and the Gaster Blasters do pack a punch.]

Are they underrated?  YES / NO / IDK. [ Underrated? Certainly not. Overrated? Hmm..]

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO [Hot take, but as of now, there are no CANON facts 100% supporting the idea that Sans was tied to main story plot elements. If you took him out, the actual story wouldn’t change much, you would just go straight to Asgore’s fight. ]

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG. [ Sans is one of the main monsters that the MC interacts with, and acts as the Judge near the end of the game, which reveals a lot of unknown information to the MC.]

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO. [ The scene in Grillby’s seems to suggest that, at least in Snowdin, Sans is well-known and well-liked.]

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL. [ While fellow Grillby customers and a few other Snowdin residents seem to like him, he’s also seen to irritate other characters with his laziness, bad jokes, or shenanigans. Even Undyne admits that she’d fire him, but he always manages to do the bare minimum to avoid it being justified.]

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON?  — I do! Though I also offer my own spin on San’s backstory and my own interpretation of canon hints. 

SELL YOUR MUSE! AKA TRY TO LIST EVERYTHING, WHICH MAKES YOUR MUSE INTERESTING IN YOUR OPINION TO MAKE THEM SPICY FOR YOUR MUTUALS.  —  Jokes in the face of nihilism and a juxtaposition to the field of science, Sans is full of contradictions in a fairly entertaining and interesting way. He appears to be incredibly intelligent, but talks and dresses like he’s any ol’ joe. He appears to have symptoms of depression but still acts fairly chummy. He is both one of the hardest fights you’ll apparently face and yet only needs one hit to be defeated. Sans apparently cares for nothing and yet also holds his brother in very high esteem. He appears difficult to get close to, yet he bonded with a stranger over bad jokes and kept a promise to her even though he never even knew her name. Sans can be defined by both what he is and what he appears to be. 

NOW THE OPPOSITE, LIST EVERYTHING WHY YOUR MUSE COULD NOT BE SO INTERESTING (EVEN IF YOU MAY NOT AGREE, WHAT DOES THE FANDOM PERHAPS THINK?).  —  Sans is credited with far more than he’s actually due by the fandom. He doesn’t seem to really care for you, the player, like Toriel or other monsters do. He’s not a hero, past or present, like Gerson or Undyne. He doesn’t really help avoid the player getting hurt or captured like Papyrus does. He doesn’t push the plot forward and he doesn’t take action; as a character, Sans is purely reactive, and if he were the Main Character, that would be a huge flaw. 

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE?  —  I first joined the Tumblr RPC as a Frisk RP Blog, way back in the day, and that was because I stumbled across a Sans RP blog that I found very interesting. This character that I had largely not put too much thought in during the game suddenly had a very complex narrative and I loved reading his dialogue (it didn’t hurt that the mun was clearly a talented writer). Eventually, I realized I wanted to try my hand at writing him too, and so I started my own Sans RP blog.

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING?  —  you guys. The fandom, the artists, the other Sans/Undertale RP blogs, the fanfiction authors— when I start getting bored or stale, you suddenly present this indie game, and by extension Sans, in a new angle that draws me back in. Thank you. 

SOME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO? [ Some of my old favorites in the Sans RP game, I think, did a bit better job of consistently getting his character right. Still, I hope I give him justice too.]

Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO / SORT OF? 

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO 

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO [ Often! When I’m actively writing him, anyway.]

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO / SORT OF? [ I am! Like I said, I think there have been others who did it better, but I wouldn’t say my portrayal is bad.]

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO. [ Most of the time! Sometimes I get writer's anxiety, and it doesn’t help that Tumblr gets me at my rawest. I have no editor, my posts normally receive just a brief proof-reading, and I’m sometimes experimenting for the first time with a particular genre/scene/style. I wouldn’t point to all of my writing here as my best or strongest work, but I can write solid stuff.]

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO. / SORTA. [ I wouldn’t say I’m sensitive in terms of people criticizing me, personally, but I am sensitive to other people. When something bad or unfair happens to someone, I usually feel upset for them. It can get very emotionally exhausting.] 

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL?  —  I would say so! In general, I’m used to critiques for both writing and art, as I’ve taken courses that incorporated both heavily. 

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER?  —  Absolutely!

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?  —  Not necessarily! I’m always interested in hearing different takes, but if someone said, “I don’t agree,” and didn’t follow up with an explanation on their own, I wouldn’t ask for one. 

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL, HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT?  —  Kind of the same as above. I would be interested in hearing why if they offered up why, but otherwise, I’m not really going to ask because they don’t OWE ME an explanation. For example, I like a lot of books, and I don’t like a lot of books, and that’s not really a judge of their quality as much as it is my own personal taste. Number one rule as a writer, you have to learn and accept that your stuff won’t appeal to everyone. 

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT?  —  I get it, haha. Characters that are hyped up like Sans are easy to get annoyed by. Even if he wasn’t hyped up, though, again, it makes sense that someone wouldn’t like him. Just like a book, a character can’t appeal to everyone. 

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS?  —  Please do! It’s embarrassing when I catch them later, hahaha. 

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN?   —  I think so! I try to be, anyway. Sometimes I worry I’m too casual with slipping into IM’s or commenting on posts, but so far I don’t think I’ve scared anyone off, so that’s good. 

[tokidokitrash]

I’ve never written a fic before (ok maybe when I was like 13) and I was just struggling a little mentally tonight. It’s a Long rambling off the Top of my head and it’s not gonna be any good but I tried. I would appreciate any constructive criticism you’d shoot my way.

It did help me feel better after writing this, so that’s a silver lining:D

I know the mysme fandom is kinda not as strong as it used to be, but reading other people’s fics really brightened my day, since I’m always on my own due to work.

I had this set as a longer timeline compared to the limited days in the game, and my MC clearly struggles with her own inner depression demons,

Sorry in advance about some stuff further down. I couldn’t help myself.

Italics are either MC’s thoughts or flashbacks.

———————————————————————————————

The way we are - 01

Dreadful, depreciating thoughts slowly crept their way into your thoughts, almost like they bore down on the back of your tightly shut eyes.

‘Not this again...’ you mentally scold yourself.

It had been a few weeks since your last battle. The constant struggle you fought deep within you- one only you knew about.

No one knew. No one could ever know. No one would be able to accept you. No one would be able to help either ways.

You curled yourself into a little huddle on your bed. The air-conditioner wasn’t on, leading the air to a standstill. It was suffocating, the stagnancy. But honestly, you couldn’t be bothered with the discomfort.

‘Stagnant air... stagnant just like my life has been...’

You chastised yourself again, me talking rolling your eyes at yourself, this time for being such a dramatic little bitch in your own little mind.

You hated yourself.

Things were actually getting better these past few weeks. You had the RFA and managing their affairs kept you solidly occupied.

Truthfully, that fateful day you encountered them, and they laid out the opportunity to you to help them be their new coordinator, you mentally leapt with joy at the chance.

Yes, the whole thing was pretty fishy, bogus, weird.

But you’d craved and relished the idea that you could be of some help to a greater cause. Your heart soared at the thought of being of use to someone.

It did come as a plus that the members of this new group were all such...unique personalities.

The lively, dramatic, narcissistic but caring Zen.

The adorable, innocent, wide-eyed Yoosung.

The strong and (seriously) overworked Jaehee.

The stern, calculative business man with the strangest streak of humour, Jumin.

And the mysterious hacker with the flaming red hair, the one whom you’d always felt you could ‘click’ with best, the one you were most attracted to,707.

In their own way, they lit up your life, the way they seemed to always be concerned with your wellbeing, peppering your day with their funny arguments and conversations.

Then shit hit the fan, didn’t it?

It had already been a few days since the whole ordeal with ‘Unknown’. It’s events still played fresh in your mind, but yet right now, they seemed so very far away.

Seven had come to your rescue, but since that day, he’s been anything but a knight in shining armour.

Before the incident, you both had so much fun through the limited calls to each other and the chat.

You felt warm feelings towards Seven blossom in your chest every time you heard his voice. And with the way he seemed to flirt back with you, you had the slightest impression that maybe, just maybe, he was interested in you too.

It felt so nice to banter with him, to feel some sort of electric connection between you two.

But these days, it seems that the happy-go-lucky, capable 707 was gone.

The other day, he even lashed out at Yoosung, who called you, distraught and crying over the incident.

You’ve tried to be strong, you understood that whatever transpired that day must have triggered Seven towards reacting this way. Constantly pushing you away, harshly berating you for leaving his sight, then berating you once more for coming too close to him. You wanted to be here for him, to let him know you cared for him more deeply then he knew and you’d accept and like to hear his story. You’d like to think of yourself as capable of helping provide comfort and reassurance to this beautiful mess of a man, despite whatever attitude shocking revelations of danger he may throw at you.

The key word here, is that you ‘tried’.

And sometimes, life gives you so much lemons, you get really sick of fucking lemonade.

You haven’t really left the room for about...maybe 2 days now, you estimate. Only sneaking out for essentials when you didn’t hear typing and it seemed that maybe Seven was asleep. Wallowing in your self-hatred, you think about the things you’ve wanted to accomplish and how you’ve failed them all.

Dammit, even the man you were so into seems to hate you now- and why shouldn’t he?

Depression had sinked her filthy claws into your heart once again, and though you may have won that battle against her before, you knew, deep in the recess of your mind, she was always waiting to crawl back out.

You hated every fibre of your being. Some days you’d wonder why you were even alive. What did you exist for? Even replying the emails from potential guests seem a chore too monumental right now. Why should they care about your invites? You’d ponder over what to send them, then delete everything you’ve typed out of fear you were being out of line or plain stupid, giving the RFA a bad name. Then you’d start to hate yourself more for letting the guests wait on your reply, get more upset with your own inefficiency. It was a vicious cycle in your mind, and it was always tough to break out of it.

You’ve managed before, and kept a happy persona in your interactions with the members. And that’s what you tried to do for Seven, even as he was scowling away, brows scrunched up in frustration at either his computer, or your mere presence. Either way, he let you know you were an annoyance he couldn’t be bothered to entertain.

And you started believing him.

So you’ve locked yourself away in your room. This was your problem to deal with. Your demons to face. You found a small comfort in hearing Seven typing away in the living room. It was odd, but knowing he was there made you feel safe...but so unwanted.

‘Come on MC... you’re a tough girl, so tough this one out. Yes you’re pathetic and there’s nothing more you hate in this world but yourself, but snap out of it.... please... happythoughtshappythoughtshappythoughtskittenspuppies..seven’svoiceandjokesandthoughtsoftakingyoutothemoon...’

Growling in frustration, you pull the pillow over your head and tried to scream into it, only to end up sobbing uncontrollably. Why were you like this? It’s so illogical...so, so stupid.

If only you could force yourself to be happy and cheery.

But admittedly, Seven’s attitude and coldness towards you really shut that cheery side of you down, faster than you’d like to admit.

You recall the freshest wounds he had inflicted upon you... you had tried to talk to him, as he seemed a little nicer that morning, despite being extremely sleep deprived, giving you a nod when you brought him coffee, and didn’t tell you off when you went to sit near him. You had wanted to express a little gratitude for how hard he was working for your sake.

—————

“Hey, Seven... thank you for working so hard fo-

‘“I’m just going to stop you there, you don’t have to say anything to me. You can just leave me alone.”’

“Aish~! I know that~! You’ve said that before, I just wanna thank you- you’re going to hurt my feelings you know” you pout, trying to stay light-hearted.

He takes off his glasses and rubs his temples upon hearing this. Sighing loudly, he adds;

“I don’t care about how you feel at all. I can’t be bothered if you’re hurt. I’m busy and don’t have time for this, so stop bothering me already!”’

“ I just-‘

‘“ just leave me alone.”’

You weren’t sure what made you decide to do this, but you whine quietly, feeling defeated, and perhaps this was actually a last ditch attempt to see if he cared.

“Seven...I’m going to start crying if you keep being so mean to me..”

He pauses, then he shifts in your direction,stony faced, cold liquid gold eyes bearing into your own brown eyes.

‘“Even if you cry, it doesn’t really matter to me.”’

Hearing that, you flashed him the best smile you could manage, hoping your pain wasn’t too obvious, muttered a few apologies and excused yourself to your room.

————-

...you were scared too, after the whole incident. But it seems he truly did not care about how you felt, like he hardly gave it any thought. like you were only a problem he had to fix ASAP to get a move on his life.

——————————————————-

Hours had probably passed when you jolt awake to a knock on your door.

“Oi, MC.” he starts in an annoyed tone “Are you okay? I tried calling you but your phone is dead. What are you doing in there for so long anyway?”

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you knew it must have been quite awhile if Mr cold-and-I-don’t-care-about-you was checking up on you. The room was dark, air still stale. Picking up your phone, you realise you haven’t checked it since the start of your mental battle. Yes, it was dead.

“MC?” You thought maybe you picked up a hint of worry though all that irritation this time. “.....I’m coming in.”

‘Wait what? Nonono did I lock the bloody door? He can’t see me like this I-‘

You bolt up from the bed, nearly tripping on your sheets as you rushed for the door, but you were a beat too slow, and the door was already ajar before your hand could touch the handle.

Golden irises pierce your gaze as your eyes adjusted to the invading light from outside your room, he pauses for a moment and his eyes seem to widen in shock at the sight of you...and your probably very disheveled appearance.

Hurriedly, you press your body against the back of the door, holding , preventing it from opening any further.

“MC?!” He called as he tried to peek his head past the door’s opening to get a better look at you.

You cleared your dry and raspy throat before finally replying the redhead-

“AHHHHh Seven! Geez, don’t you know that you’re supposed to give a lady more time to respond?! You can’t just open doors so suddenly you gave me such a start! Nearly let you see me all horrid looking after taking a nap ahaha ha”

Good lord you hope you sounded convincing, and not at all like you’ve been crying for the last godknowshowlong.

Seven goes quiet for a moment, and the tension in the air still hangs over you two. You notice one of his hands shift and holds onto the door frame as he steadily starts to push the door towards you. Trying your utmost best but failing to be lighthearted, you yelped and tried to swat his hand away, still fervently trying to push the door back against his force.

“Holddddup what are you doing Seveny stop trying to open the door! Didn’t you hear what I said???”

“I heard you. But I said I’m.coming.in.”

He pushes the door harder and you know you’re no match for his strength, and in a last ditch attempt to hide your appearance from him you grab a large towel you had hanging behind your door, wrap it over your head, letting it drape down your shoulders and dash for the corner of the room behind the door. You squat down, huddled in your new corner, and you hear Seven cuss when the door gives way easily at your absence, causing him to stumble into the room. Hearing him cuss a bit more, you sense his gaze sweeping the room, before feeling them land upon your huddled up frame at the corner. There’s a long pause before he quietly asks, incredulously

“..........MC, wh-what are you doing over there”

“I told you I was indecent looking now.... so I’m just going to stay in this corner since you so rudely barged in.” You quipped. Your choice of words may sound harsh but you say them in a sing-song manner. Seven just stays quiet after your reply, which leads you to ramble on, hoping to fill the silence

“So, uh, what’s up? Did you miss me? Come here cuz you’re missing little old me? Ahahhaha or did you manage to find something about this whole....shenanigan? Anyways a-aren’t you busy and all? I won’t bother you anymore so y-you don’t have to worry about me either ahhahaha...hahahah”

I sound insane.

You hear him sigh loudly, again, and it kind of reminds you of how your parents used to sigh at you when you were a disappointment. He mutters under his breath sometimes that’s sounds like ‘fucks sake’ and it cuts you off from your ramblings. You can’t stop the tears from springing to your eyes. You were still hurting, still wallowing. Trying to hide whatever negativity by being weird and using your own brand of humour. And now he was real, in your room and invading your space, you could feel your mind trying to come up with something, anything to avoid possible questions and maybe get him to leave.

“What’s all this? You’re being real weird now, hiding in that corner. I’ve seen you after your naps and you don’t usually look like....that. Turn around and face me, MC.”

You take a deep breathe through your nose, your way of stifling your sniffs from new tears,

“Ahhh you’re so indelicate, I can’t turn to face you, so uh why don’t you just wait outside and I’ll come out when I’m ready?”

“And when will that be? Talk to me MC. Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

No shit, Sherlock.

“Yaaaa Please God Seven, have mercy and give this lady a chance to *sniff* prep herself first”

You could almost hear him rolling his eyes at you, when he says

“Get out of the corner before I drag you out. Seriously, what are you even doing? “

Given his snappiness, you wouldn’t be surprised if he acted out his threat. But his question gave you a chance to exhibit your messed up coping mechanism.

“What am I doing? Fine, I’ll tell you. I’m not hiding myself, I’m prepping for my next cosplay.”

“HAH??” In a very, very annoyed tone.

“Here, look. “

In that moment, you slowly turned your body to face him, and put your hands down on the floor, still in a squatting position but with your hands between your knees. Towel still draped across your head and shoulder, you whisper in a low, slow voice,

“E.......Ed........Edward.....................Nii-san”

“..............’’

“GODDAMMIT MC “

Seven’s loud, booming shout really startles you, as you realise he’s left the room. You started to worry you’ve made him real angry this time, and wait for more cussing and shouting.....only to hear cussing and...laughter? His laughter grows, and soon he’s bellowing, and the raucous peals of laughter is music to your ears actually. Even though you’re still hurt from his words and demeanour, you’ve come to realise the effect this gorgeous man has on you, and it warms your heart a little that you’ve managed to make him laugh for the first time in a Long, Long time. He’s still cackling when you waddle towards the door, still covered mainly by the room’s darkness, peek out at him but with your body still in the same position.

“Hey man” you catch his attention and he stares at you, wiping tears away from his eyes “that’s not cool- that scene wasn’t funny at all in the anime-god you shouldn’t be laughing at this.”

Seven has his hands on his knees as you send him into another mini laughing fit.

You stay like this for awhile, feeling a little better after making 707 laugh, despite it not being your original plan at all. You hoped he’d have forgotten all about how you looked and how you ardently tried to hide from him the fact you’ve been a mess these last 2 days.

Now it just feels a little bittersweet. This whole thing is quite similar to how you’ve always dealt with hiding your hurt and pain from others, and a teeny, tiny part of you was sad that you felt the need to hide your feelings and emotions from the guy you adored.

Deep down, you wanted his comfort, but yet, was too afraid to seek it out.

You were now convinced that Seven perhaps truly had no feelings for you other than just as a ‘member of RFA’.

“Anyways...god Seven?”You whispered quietly once his laughter completely dies down. He looks up, having taken off his glasses to wipe his tears again.

“Ah?” He mutters breathlessly, looking at you through his fringe.

You realise you have it real bad, as this sight of him makes your breathe hitch a little and your heart beat faster. You will thoughts of him away as you continue

“I’m going to go and wash up, then um, head to bed now....“ you shift your hands to grip the towel’s ends, making it cover more of your face. Seven seems to notice how tightly you’re gripping the towel, and patiently waits for you to speak as your struggle to find the words.

“..I’m sorry about the other day, today. Well. Everyday. I hope you feel a little better... good night, okay? Take care of yourself, Remember to eat and sleep and I’ll just be here I Guess an—“

you stop yourself. You were rambling again. Pointless rambles. You forced a small smile, internally dying as you were now telling yourself to give up these feelings, bid him good night once more, and gently shut the door.

—————————————————

I’m sorry about the joke again. I had the idea and I couldn’t put it down.