#went scrolling down and wHAT DO YOU MEAN 3 YEARS AGO HE TRIED TO PRETEND HE WAS TECHNOBLADE????? HELLO??????????

[djevelbl]

Doing personality and speech pattern analysis the way God intended: currently going through the catalogue of Chief content and picking out what I think are his classics, having everything play out one video after the other — who should I do this with next?

[xoxo-teddybear]

Cheater? - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: fake cheating, cursing, angst, fluff, crack

Summary: PRANK WARS!! After coming to the conclusion that his own girlfriend pulls better pranks than him and has been one up-ing a lot recently, Katsuki decided to break their unspoken rule and pull a cheating prank

A/N: I recommend reading this fic as a continuation of this fic. It’s about Y/N’s revenge.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“I don’t know who the fuck is listening right now, but I, Katsuki fucking Bakugou, am begging whatever heavenly body, god, spiritual being, whatever the fuck it could be, to ensure that my girlfriend does not leave my dumbass for pulling this prank. Thank you, bless.”

Bakugou kept his eyes shut with his palms pressed together in a praying motion for the longest time while he spoke to something to protect his relationship. When he was done, he took a breather and got up from the shared bed. He took out the camera and set it up behind Y/N’s makeup stuff to hide it and began to put his prank into action.

A few hours ago he had Kirishima pretend to be a girl and had his best friend flirt with him through text. This went on for some time to make sure that if you were to scroll through his conversation, you’d find a lot of messages. At the end of the texts, Bakugou had Kirishima find a random pic online of some random girl’s ass and had the red head sent it. Bakugou answered it with a very flirtatious text, which had Kirishima send a very cutesy, appreciated reply in a very girly matter, which ended the conversation. Bakugou changed his friend’s name to some random name, Kiyoko, and finished the job. Yes, the two friends were very uncomfortable doing this whole thing.

With the camera now recording, all Bakugou needed to begin his prank was his prized possession. You.

—

Bakugou and you were cuddling on the king sized bed. You both were just talking about whatever while Katsuki remained on his phone. You didn’t see it yet, but Katsuki was “texting” his friend. In reality, he was just waiting for you to look up at his screen to notice the scandalous texts he and this “Kiyoko” were having.

“Baby?” You asked while looking at your pretty acrylics.

“Yes baby?” Bakugou said while still looking at his phone. He had his arm wrapped around you while you layed on him with your cheek on his chest.

“Ion know...I love you baby,” you said in the cutest voice. Bakugou could only make a face of extreme awe to appreciate his precious girlfriend.

“I love you too Teddy Bear,” he said. You lifted your head to smile at him but you took notice of how he was still staring at his phone.

You pouted before smirking and climbing up to come face to face with him. You got in between him and his phone and grabbed his face with both hands. He smiled at you before you leaned down to peck his lips multiple times. Once you were done you tucked your head under his chin and looked to the side, just enjoying the moment. He kissed the crown of your head before going back to “texting.”

At the sound of him pressing random things on the keyboard, your pout returned. “Baby~ Pay attention to me!!” You whined.

You removed your head out from under his chin and layed your head next to his. You looked at his phone and saw a ‘thank you’ with a kissy face emoji from a “Kiyoko” before Katsuki switched the screen to some random game. “Who’s Kiyoko?”

“Hm?” Katsuki asked, pretending to be oblivious.

“Who’s Kiyoko? You were just on a text chat with her, why is she sending you a kissy face?” You asked with a little more attitude. You tried to take the phone out of his hand but he pulled it away.

“She’s just a friend, babe.” Bakugou said.

“Okay, well if she’s just a friend then why can’t I see?” You questioned.

“Because there’s nothing to see.”

“She sent you a kissy face. That’s something I’d like to see.” You said while easily taking his phone out of his hand.

“Babe, no.” He said and took the phone back. “Shes just a friend.” You took the phone back and he tried to grab it again before you held the phone away at a distance to make sure he couldn’t grab it. “Babe. Noo, stooppp.”

“If she’s just a friend then why’re you trying to hide it?” You asked with the phone still far away and him attempting to reach for it.

“Cuz we’re about to go out and-“

“What the fuck?!” You said as you looked to the texts. You froze in your position as you brought the phone closed and scrolled through the texts, stumbling upon the picture. Bakugou tried to take the phone away from you but failed (on purpose.)

“She just wanted an opinion,” he tried explaining.

“An opinion?!” You asked while sitting up and pushing him off of you. “She sent you a booty pic with you complimenting her and shit. And you’re over here calling her babe!”

“It’s not like that-“

“Then what the fuck is it like Katsuki?!” You asked. You went back to the text and reread some of the messages out loud. “‘Bet you enjoyed it when I wrecked you last night, Relax Princess Y/N’s never gonna find out, I love you Kiyoko-‘ Are you fucking serious?!” You said with a cracked voice as you looked at him.

He put on a small smile for the act but on the inside it hurt him to see you like this, but the prank would prevail. “Baby, calm down.”

“I’m not gonna calm down Katsuki, you’re cheating on me!” You continued to go on and on about how pissed you were and Katsuki was struggling to hold back his laughs. He eventually got up to run to the downstairs bathroom so he could let out his chuckles. “Where the fuck are you going?! We’re not done with this conversation!”

Bakugou said nothing as he ran to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. He bursted out in laughter as he crouched over due to all the excitement. He looked in the mirror and ruffled his hair a bit as he remembered the way you looked. The sad you would’ve made his heart ached but the angry you just made him laugh and kind of turned him on in a way.

After getting all his giggles out, he calmed down and got back into character. He opened the door to the bathroom only to see you walking down the stairs with your jacket and shoes on, carrying a small bag. “Baby?”

At the sound of his voice you only looked his way with a mean glare as you continued your walk to the front door. Bakugou ran to you as fast as he could as worry spilled through his body. “Baby, stop. Where are you going?”

“Get the fuck away from me. I’m done, we’re done. I’m going.” You said with a cold voice. Bakugou ran in front of you and held onto your arms as he pushed you back further into the house but you fought against his hold.

“Y/N, stop. It was just a prank.” Bakugou whined.

“Like I fucking believe that.” You said while trying to pry his hands off of you. Bakugou whimpered as he grew worried and felt himself getting choked up. He could feel the tears approaching but held them back. He could still save himself.

“Baby please. Come back upstairs, I’ll show you the camera!” He begged but you finally got his hands off of you as you ran to the door. You ran out the door and Bakugou grew frantic as he ran to the room to get the camera. When he came back down and ran out to the front to show you, you had already backed out of the driveway and were driving down the street. “Y/N!”

Bakugou ran back upstairs and into the bedroom to find his phone on the bed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He was quick to find your number and call you but you declined it. He called again a few more times and like before, you declined them. He called you so much that eventually, you stopped declining them and just began to straight up ignore them. This led to Bakugou leaving voicemails.

“Baby? Please pick up it was just a prank.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I swear it was a prank! Please come back home!”

“Please come back Y/N! It was just a joke, none of it was real! Please answer me.”

“Baby, please come back. I love you.”

When he realized you weren’t going to answer, he opened up the messages with Kirishima and changed his name back before calling him.

“Hello?”

“Kirishima!” Bakugou said and his friend could practically hear the tears. “Prank went wrong! Went so wrong! Y/N fucking left! She didn’t even give me a chance to explain!”

Bakugou began hyperventilating as he tugged at his hair and looked around. He didn’t even focus on what Kirishima was saying as he looked around the once shared bedroom. He went through the closet and saw some of your clothes and shoes missing. Some of your makeup was off the vanity and when Bakugou looked to the nightstand to see the smashed picture frame that held the image of you both on your third year anniversary, he began sobbing.

“Please! Just fucking call her to explain! That’s all!”

“Alright, I’ll do it. Don’t worry, okay?” His friend replied to which Bakugou only hung up. He had every right to worry. His dumbass was about to lose you. Bakugou sat back down on the bed as he cried into his hands some more. He looked at himself in the large mirror hanging on the wall before scrunching his face and screaming.

“FUCK!” He shouted and threw something at the wall. He didn’t know what he grabbed, he just knew it broke. Bakugou flopped onto the large bed and cried some more as he waited for something, anything, to happen. But that night, nothing did.

—

3 days had passed and for 3 days Bakugou had constantly been calling you, your friends, your family, anybody he could do that he could reach you. He had constantly been crying and regretting pulling that stupid, stupid prank. It wasn’t worth losing you.

For the past few days, Kirishima had been checking up on Katsuki. He had been coming over a few times a day by using the hidden house key you both left under a rock on at the house entrance. On the third day, Bakugou told him to stop coming by and that he wanted to be by himself.

—

Bakugou had been hallowing in sadness on the bed until he heard the door open. He sighed again and walked to this bedroom door. On his way there he took notice of his appearance in the mirror and even though he was in the dark, he still saw his red, puffy eyes and tired face. He finally opened the door and walked to the living room so he could ward off his pesky friend.

“Shitty Hair, I told you that I didn’t wa-“ his eyes popped open at the sight he saw in the living room. He froze on the spot but felt immediate relief. “Y/N!”

“...Hi Katsuki,” you said in a soft voice. Bakugou smiled and instantly ran to you to pull you in for a tight hug. He squeezed you tight and grew joyous when he felt you softly hug him back.

“I missed you so much! I’m so fucking sorry, it was just a prank I swe-“

“Katsuki! I know, okay? Kirishima told Mina and she told me everything.” You explained and pushed him off slightly so you could face him. He nodded in understanding and you took note of his red eyes and nose. You sighed before speaking. “This is why we don’t pull pranks like this Katsuki!”

He sadly chuckled at you reprimanding him but nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah...I’m so sorry, Baby.”

“You should be! I almost actually left you!” You said with a little pout. Bakugou sadly laughed with relieved tears in his eyes as he held you.

“I know. I swear I won’t do anything like this again.” He promised.

“You better not.” You said, squished against his chest. You leaned up and kissed his cheek before you dragged him to the couch. You and Bakugou spent the rest of the day making up and cuddling. Everything felt so right again and Bakugou definitely learned his lesson.

A/N: not spell checked, sorry! Ummm…THIS KINDA SUCKED😭🤣

Tag list : @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan @is-this-ash @iris-shihabi @sxturn-stars @isolight

[rebelwrites]

It’s Me Or Her? - Part One

Clay Spenser x Reader

A/N: I’ve had this idea buzzing around my head for a little bit but don’t worry there will be a part 2

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

“Yo Y/L/N” Sonny grinned appearing in the doorway of your cage.

“What” you glared looking up from your phone, you knew what he was going to say.

“You haven’t told me if you are going to the bbq tomorrow” he smirked, leaning against the metal. “So you coming or what?”

“I don’t have a choice do I?” You asked.

“Nope I was just being polite asking, if I have to come to your house and kidnap you I will” he grinned.

“Will she be there?” You hissed.

“Well considering she is Clay’s girlfriend and it’s our before deployment bbq yes she will” Sonny nodded, he knew just how much you hated her, and he also knew that ever since she got with Clay you felt like you lost your best friend and also he knew about your feelings for him.

“Great” you said sarcastically, moving your gaze to the door as the rest of the team strolled in.

“Watch out lads, Princess is in a mood today” Sonny laughed quickly changing the subject.

“When isn’t she” Ray winked as he fist bumped you before going to his cage.

“You might be 2IC Perry but I will drop you like a lead balloon” you smiled innocently.

“What’s up?” Clay asked standing where Sonny was just moments ago.

“Nothing, I'm just peachy,” you said, rolling your eyes as you stood up. “Anyway, what do you care?”

“Because you’re my friend” he said with a sad smile on his face.

“Yeah friend” you scoffed barging past him and headed for the door.

“Oi moody where are you going” Jase shouted as you hand touched the handle.

“For a piss and a smoke” you snapped. “Don’t worry I will be back in time for training”

It took Bravo team a while to adjust to having a female on the team but they eventually came around so they all knew how to handle your moods but they were getting a bit concerned with the tension that was bubbling away under the surface between you and Clay. Jase sighed as he pulled Sonny to the side.

“I’m guessing it’s something to do with tomorrow” he whispered.

“Yeah, we are gonna have to keep an eye on her make sure she doesn’t flip out” Sonny whispered.

“Maybe her and Clay need to have it out before we leave, otherwise it’s gonna be a long 3 months” Jase sighed.

“Either way I have a feeling there’s gonna be a fight tomorrow” Sonny whispered. “It’s really starting to get to her now even though she tries not to show it is”

“I actually thought I was going to have to kidnap you” Sonny laughed as he pulled you into a hug.

“Yeah well I considered bailing but things could get interesting” you laughed grabbing a beer out of the cool box, as you brought the bottle to your lips Jase draped his arm over your shoulder.

“I hope you are gonna be on your best behaviour tonight” he smirked.

“I mean when do I ever behave Jase” you smirked looking up at him.

“Just don’t start any fights, okay” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“No promises” you shrugged, wiggling out of his grasp to go find Cerberus.

The moment you flopped onto the grass you saw Clay and Jenny walk into the garden, you didn’t realise you growled until Cerberus nuzzled his snout against your cheek.

“I know buddy” you whispered kissing his nose. You really didn’t see what Clay saw in her, she wasn’t the type of person to hang around with rowdy tier one operators, in fact she was the person to date one just so say she dated a Seal. I mean who wears six inch stilettos to a god damn bbq.

All you wanted to do was punch her in the face, but you knew everyone would be keeping tabs on you tonight so you decided to stay out the way, the way you were feeling right now it was the safe option.

Your peace didn’t last long as Sonny came over and literally flung you over his shoulder.

“I swear to god I will stab you asshole” you growled as he carried you through the garden.

“Stop being an unsociable demon then” he laughed dropping your on your ass in the middle of the group.

“You better sleep with one eye open in J-Bad” you growled looking up at him “I’m coming for you Sonny Quinn”

“Give it your best shot Princess” he winked before going back to the grill.

Sighing in defeat you pulled your phone out , connecting it to Blackburn’s outdoor surround system, scrolling through your playlist you were looking for one song, a song that you knew would cause shit but you needed a good fight. Standing to your feet you went to join Jase, Ray and Sonny around the grill whilst pressing play on the song.

Hey, hey, you, you, I don't like your girlfriend (That's right) No way, no way, I think you need a new one. Hey, hey, you, you, I could be your girlfriend. Hey, hey, you, you, I know that you like me. No way, no way, you know it's not a secret. Hey, hey, you, you, I want to be your girlfriend

“Please tell me you didn’t just put this song on” Jase sighed as he realised the song you put on that was now blasting out loud.

“Don’t know what you are on about” you shrugged “I just put my playlist on shuffle”

“Give me strength” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Dude it’s just a song chill out” you laughed.

“Yes but it’s the meaning behind the song and you know it” Ray sighed.

You're so fine, I want you mine, you're so delicious. I think about you all the time, you're so addictive. Don't you know what I can do to make you feel alright? (Alright, alright, alright, alright)

“Look I’m not going to do anything so chill out” you nodded looking around the garden, making eye contact with Clay. You always had flirty banter with him until he got with Jenny, she instantly took a disliking to you, didn’t like how close you were with Clay. Your eyes were still locked as you sang along with the song. “Don't pretend, I think you know I'm damn precious. And hell yeah, I'm the motherfucking princess. I can tell you like me too and you know I'm right”

In a way this was your way of admitting your true feelings to him, it was ironic that you wasn’t afraid of being the first person through the door but when it came to your feelings that scared the fuck out of you.

She's like so whatever. You could do so much better. I think we should get together now. And that's what everyone's talking about. Hey, hey, you, you, I don't like your girlfriend. No way, no way, I think you need a new one. Hey, hey, you, you, I could be your girlfriend. Hey, hey, you, you, I know that you like me. No way, no way, you know it's not a secret. Hey, hey, you, you, I want to be your girlfriend

“Whatever happens you have my six right?” You asked looking up at the boys.

“You know we always do” Ray said, squeezing your shoulder. “Just don’t do anything stupid”

“Come on this is me we are on about Ray” you laughed sipping your beer, watching how Jenny realised you and Clay were still holding eye contact across the garden and you could literally see steam coming out of her ears. “But if she wants to start fucking let her”

“That’s what I’m worried about” he sighed “we don’t need you banged up for this deployment”

“When do I ever lose a fight” you winked before going to mingle with the rest of the team.

The boys couldn’t take their eyes off Clay and Jenny, just waiting for the moment it popped off so they could intervene.

“Deployment is going to be fun” Sonny said with sarcasm laced in his voice.

In a second, you'll be wrapped around my finger. 'Cause I can, 'cause I can do it better. There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in? She's so stupid, what the hell were you thinking? In a second, you'll be wrapped around my finger. 'Cause I can, 'cause I can do it better. There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in? She's so stupid, what the hell were you thinking?

Before you knew it you felt someone pulling your hair making you scream at the sudden contact. That was it, you saw red, you ignored the pain from Jenny’s grip on your hair as you managed to get out of her hold, without even thinking your fist connected with her face, so hard you felt it crack making your smirk.

“Don’t ever try to sneak attack a Seal bitch” you spat as she clutched her nose.

“Y/N what the fuck” Clay snapped rushing to Jenny’s aid, “you fucking broke her nose”

“Oh did I?” You shrugged, rolling your eyes.

“The fuck has gotten into you recently, this isn’t you” Clay shouted as Trent took Jenny to go see to her nose.

“Oh that’s fucking rich coming from you” you growled, squaring you with Clay with your fists balled at your side.

“I don’t know what youre talking about” Clay growled back, your bodies pressed together.

“Well how about ever since you got with her , you never hang with the team anymore, you bail on us all the goddamn time. Or how about when I needed my best friend because I was having a hard time with some news I got but you blew me off because you had plans with her” you screamed as the hot tears ran down your cheeks. “Or when the weight of the last fucking op was near enough crushing me to the point I nearly left the fucking team, you didn’t even notice because you are never around. So much for being my best friend and having my six”

“Come one Y/L/N” Jase said in your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you away from Clay.

“I didn’t know” Clay said, softening his tone.

“Like I said it’s because you are never around” you screamed as you thrashed in Jason’s grip. As Jenny appeared next to Clay, wrapping her hand around his arm. “You know I was moments away from spilling my heart out to you last deployment but stopped myself because you’d never feel anything for your best friend despite the years of flirting”

“Baby she’s just jealous” Jenny whined.

“Bitch I can show you jealous if you want” you growled as Jase picked you up taking you further away from the situation.

“Walk it off” he snapped as he put you on the ground.

“Why should I?” You snapped.

“Just fucking walk it off Y/N” Jase snapped before dropping his tone. “Please just go calm down”

“Fine” you huffed grabbing the bottle of whiskey off the side when he let you go.

As you were taking yourself for a walk to try and calm down you heard Jenny ask Clay a question that you weren't sure if you wanted to know the answer to so you started sprinting to get as far away from them as possible.

“You gotta choose Clay, it’s me or her?”

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @ohitsnicolexo @velvetcardiganbucky @phoenixhalliwell @pancakeisreading @itsonautopilot @pinkrockstar19 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @softi92 @abby-splace

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Used To It (M.YG)

Warnings : mentions of an abusive relationship, fighting, swearing

Synopsis : he needed a girl to leave him alone, she wanted people to know she was over her ex. they needed each other, so they agree to pretend to date. but was it ever pretend?

Word Count : 2537

“I need you to be my girlfriend. Just until graduation.” I’m not sure what was going through my mind when I agreed, but it honestly worked out for me. I had just gotten out of a rocky relationship; a breakup that spread across the campus as fast as a wildfire. Jackson seemed to move on quickly, being seen with a new girl every week, whereas I tried to keep a low profile and focus on my studies so I could graduate next year. Because of that, everyone thought that I just couldn’t move on. Girls would talk about their nights with Jackson near me, expecting a reaction from me to no avail. So the fake relationship helped me as well.

           I barely knew Yoongi when he asked me to act as his girlfriend. I knew him through mutual friends and had met him on a few occasions, but he always seemed standoffish, so I never pursued a friendship with him. “This girl in one of my classes won’t leave me alone. I figured having a girlfriend would change that.” He told me. Yoongi was similar to me in the way that he just wanted to focus on graduating, seeing as his graduation was less than a year away. “And you said you were tired of people thinking you weren’t over Jackson.” He continued, but I was already sold.

           “Can you at least seem happy to be with me.” I joked as the two of us took our seats at a table in a café just off campus. We decided to start with being seen together so our relationship would seem more believable. I’ve been spending almost everyday for the last 3 weeks with Yoongi, mostly consisting of us studying, but I don’t think I’ve seen him smile once.

           “That’s not my style.” He said casually, opening one of his notebooks he had with him and started looking over his notes. I sat back in my chair and just watched him for a bit before opening one of my textbooks. I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t handsome. It was obvious just by glancing at him that he was a good-looking guy, and girls let him know. Either he never noticed the stares and the whispers, or he just really didn’t care.

           “You should have some water.” I softly said some hours later, placing the cup of water I grabbed for him in front of him. For the first time since we sat down, he looked up at me with a tired look in his eyes. “I know you have an important test tomorrow but take care of yourself.” I smiled at him and took my seat again.

           “Thank you.” He said with some semblance of a smile on his face. “Oh wow I didn’t realize the time. I should walk you back to your dorm.” He started closing his books and packing them away in his bag before chugging the water I gave him. I chuckled to myself and packed my books away as well.

           “You don’t have to, Yoongi.” We both stood from the table and he shook his head.

           “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you walk back alone.” Hearing him say boyfriend out loud caused my stomach to flip, but I chalked it up to the amount of coffee I had drank throughout the day. Still, I didn’t argue further and the two of us headed out into the night and back to campus.

           I should have known then that this wasn’t a good idea. From the beginning I had feelings for him, but I still went through with acting as his girlfriend as if I could just walk away when it was all over.

           “So we breakup and you just think you can go and date?” Jackson said as he plopped into the seat across from me. Yoongi would be back in a couple minutes as he had just gone to the bathroom, but I take it from the look on Jackson’s face that he knew that. “You’re my girl.” He really emphasized the word ‘my’ when he spoke, and it caused me to let out a small laugh.

           “Ah yes, because you’ve been alone these last few months.” I scoffed and tried to get back to my homework, but it was hard to focus with his gaze on me.

           “You know those girls don’t compare to you.” I looked up from my books again.

           “Well that sucks for you. Yoongi is a better boyfriend than you’ll ever be.” I could see the look of anger cross his face as I said that. He stood from the table abruptly and yanked the book out of my hands, throwing it the floor in a rage before roughly taking my face in his hand.

           “You are MY girl. No one else can have you.” The venom I had grown used to over the years we were together dripped from his lips. I spent years cowering in fear every time he’d speak to me like that, but I knew he wouldn’t try anything with all these watchful eyes staring at him.

           “Actually, she’s my girl.” My stomach did flips when I heard Yoongi’s familiar voice dripping with anger. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your hands off her.” He stepped in between Jackson and me.

           “You seem proud to have my sloppy seconds.” Jackson smirked, but before he could cross his arms over his chest in victory, Yoongi punched him in the face, causing me to leap from my seat and in between the two to stop Yoongi.

           “Hey, hey, look at me.” Yoongi kept looking past me at a now bleeding Jackson, so I placed my hands on the sides of his face and made him look at me. The anger in his eyes dissipated when they met mine. “Let’s pack up and go somewhere else.” He just nodded, apologizing for causing a scene. “Jackson’s the one who should apologize.” I smiled, swinging my bag over my shoulder.

           “Was he always like that?” Yoongi hesitantly asked as we started walking nowhere in particular.

           “Not in the beginning. But the last year of our relationship, I suppose you could say he was abusive and controlling. That’s why I broke up with him.” Yoongi stopped in his tracks.

           “Wait, you broke up with him?” I chuckled and nodded, continuing to walk backwards so I could still see Yoongi. “That’s not what I should have gotten from that.”

           “It’s fine. I’m not traumatized or anything. Shit happens. You just gotta move on.” Just as I finished my sentence, I tripped over a rock and Yoongi was quick on his feet, wrapping his arms around me before I could hit the pavement. He unwrapped them from me just as quickly when I got my balance back.

           “Be careful.” He said simply and the two of us continued walking, my heart threatening to beat right out of my chest.

           I sat on my bed, scrolling through all the photos the two of us took on my phone. A few were sent to me from the others, gushing about how cute the two of us looked together. I smiled as the tears streamed down my cheeks.

           “I still can’t believe the two of you are dating!” Hoseok exclaimed as our group sat around a table, waiting for the food we had just ordered to arrive.

           “Yeah, I mean you two are as opposite as they come!” Jimin added, shaking his head. “Y/N is so bubbly and smiley all the time. And Yoongi-hyung barely ever smiles!” I linked my arm through his, causing him to look down at me but I just smiled.

           “You get used to it.” I spoke. “Regardless, he’s really cute. And he’s a good boyfriend.”  

           “Just good?” Yoongi joked, raising a brow at me.

           “He punched your abusive ex and he’s just a good boyfriend?!” Taehyung exclaimed. I chuckled at the memory that seemed like it happened a couple days ago but actually occurred a month ago.

           “Whoa he did what?!” Jungkook asked.

           “Oh yeah, it was really sexy actually.” I told the table, causing Yoongi to get slightly embarrassed and playfully push me away. “What? It’s true. I could have jumped your bones right then and there. No one has ever stood up to Jackson, let alone punch him.”

           “Jump my- oh my god, Y/N.” Yoongi shook his head, but I could see a small smile dancing across his lips.

           “You’re breaking Yoongi-hyung!” Jungkook joked, pointing out the fact that Yoongi just smiled.

           “Who would have thought Yoongi would have a soft spot.” Jin teased, reaching across to poke his shoulder. Yoongi smacked his hand away and dismissed having a soft spot for anyone. But I knew I was slithering my way through his cold exterior, and that thought alone gave me butterflies.

           Just until graduation. I kept repeating to myself. At the time it seemed like I had all the time in the world to make my way into his heart, but it seemed like the months passed all too quickly. “You aren’t going to watch your boyfriend graduate?” My roommate asked when she saw me sitting on the couch, the ceremony just an hour away.

           “I think we broke up.” I whispered, the tears still falling. She immediately brought me into an embrace. It was never supposed to be like this. Everything was pretend; we were supposed to just go back to our normal lives as if nothing happened. But I grew attached to having him by my side throughout the 7 months. I fell in love with him.

           “You didn’t have to come with me.” I thought out loud as we drove to my cousin’s wedding. Yoongi glanced over at me.

           “I’m supposed to be your boyfriend. These things are what boyfriends do.” I nodded, keeping my head forward. We’ve been acting for 5 months now and in my opinion have grown quite close. He’s really been my rock during these hard times. He’s let me complain about Jackson and didn’t judge me when I cried about missing him when I was drunk.

           After we parked, the two of us walked towards the doors of the venue side by side. As we got closer, he grabbed my hand and linked my arm through his own, causing me to look up at him. He was already smiling down at me and opened the door for us to walk through.

           We spent the time before the ceremony mingling with my family, introducing my new boyfriend. Everyone was surprised to see me with a guy that wasn’t Jackson, so sure the two of us were getting married after graduation. “Well, if I play my cards right, the next wedding we’ll be attending is ours.” Yoongi said to my uncle who asked about how serious we were. My heart swelled at the idea of walking down the aisle to him at the end of it, but I caught myself before I got too into the idea.

           “Everyone seems to love you.” I whispered as we took our seats minutes before my cousin was to walk down the aisle.

           “The competition wasn’t hard.” He joked and I playfully slapped him in the arm, causing him to burst into a fit of laughter. It was the biggest smile I’d seen on his face and I swear time stopped as I stared at him in awe. It’s been known that he’s a good-looking guy, but seeing him smile like that, I couldn’t help but fall in love in that moment.

           A harsh knock at the door pulled me from my memories. My roommate had left soon after giving me a hug, wanting to go watch her boyfriend walk the stage. I stared at my phone for a second, the lock screen being a picture of Yoongi and I at my cousin’s wedding, dressed to the nines. Whoever was on the other side of the door knocked again so I shouted a quick ‘coming’ as I stood from the couch. I’m not sure who I expected to see on the other side, but it definitely wasn’t Min Yoongi.

           “You didn’t come to the graduation.” He said, not moving from the doorway even though I moved aside to allow him in.

           “You said you just needed me until graduation.” I reminded him. We never discussed when this would actually end, or if I would attend his graduation, so I just assumed he wouldn’t want me there and stayed home.

           “Fuck that.” He said, finally stepping in my dorm so I could close the door. “I got used to having you there these past months. You came to all my events. You were there to get me out of my head and remind me to take care of myself.” His voice was in between being angry and being soft. I was confused as to what was happening, but he kept talking, and I held onto every word. “I don’t want to go back to a life without you by my side.”

           “What are you saying, Yoongi?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, feigning annoyance at his presence in hopes of protecting my heart.

           “I’m saying I’m in love with you, dammit!” He threw his arms in the air before dropping them back to his side and looking at me with an intense look in his eyes. “I’m in love with you and I want you to stay by my side.” He practically whispered, stepping closer to me. I dropped my arms to my side as he placed a hand on my cheek and brought his face closer to mine. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” He whispered and I nodded just in time for him to close the space between us. 7 months I acted as his girlfriend, slowly falling in love with him, and I only dreamed of his lips on mine. The feeling was so much better than I could have ever imagined.

           “I take it you two made up?” My roommate giggled from the doorway. I wrapped my arms around Yoongi’s torso and rested my head on his chest.

           “Yeah.” I said, still in a daze from the kiss we just shared. Yoongi kissed the top of my head and my roommate just shook her head and went to grab something before leaving again.

            “So, I was originally going to move in with Jin after graduating, but I’d prefer to live with you so I can still see you everyday.” I smiled up at him.

           “Are you sure? That’s a huge step, and we kind of just got together.” I laughed.

           “Well, honestly I’ve considered you my girlfriend for 7 months now. I don’t think this was ever really pretend for me.”

           “Me neither.”

           “So is that a yes?” I couldn’t help but laugh at the hopefulness in his eyes and the excitement in his voice. I’ve gotten so used to his melancholy ways that seeing him like this was different.

           “Yes.” He pulled me in for another kiss in that moment, and for a minute I could have sworn I was floating.

           “I love you.”

           “I love you too, you idiot.”

[zeninw]

drabble abt working w jean as a lifeguard bc i'm one and i feel super socially awkward with my staff sometimes.

cw: sfw, not proofread, mentions of social anxiety, friends to lovers kinda, cliches, a hint of suggestiveness

wc: 1.7k

The wings you had ordered were no where near as good as you hoped they would be— and neither was the night out.

You wanted to have fun with your coworkers, even though most of the time you preferred to be along, but the night had dragged out far beyond your means.

The bar had gotten too loud, and your social battery had died an hour ago. You checked out from the group, pretending to be absorbed in your phone at the end of the table.

You couldn't leave, you had gotten a ride from a freind here, but all you wanted was to go home. The check was taking forever, people were screaming at some soccer game on the TV overhead, or in some conversation that didn't include you.

You felt so out of place, a feeling you dreaded and generally tried to avoid. Years of trying to make yourself more palatable to others, anxious about going out in social settings aside from your few best friends.

Out of excuses as to why you were 'so quiet' you ducked out to the bathroom, locking the door behind you and sitting on the counter.

It was a good half hour of you scrolling through instagram or whatever you could do to distract yourself before someone knocked on the door.

You sighed, realizing someone would have to use the bathroom eventually.

"One second," you called, hopping up and tucking your phone in your pocket.

You opened your door to find one of your male coworkers, and had to remind yourself that the singular bathroom was co-ed.

"Hey," Jean said, looking down at you. You expected him to step back so you could leave and he could enter, but he stayed stagnant, standing in your way. "You've been gone for a while, eat some bad food or something?" he asked.

You shook your head no. "I'm just tired. Waiting for my ride to be ready."

"I'm about to head out, if you wanna ride with me," he suggested, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

"Oh, I don't want you to have to go out of your way..." you trailed off, not wanting to be a hassle.

"It's no problem, really. I'm pretty sure we both live in Ocean Pines," he said, referring to your apartment complex.

"Okay," you agreed. "Thank you."

"No problem," he nodded, then turned on his heels. "I'm gonna tell Sash we're leaving, i'll meet you by the door."

You nodded, following him out of the narrow hallway that lead to the bathroom back out into the crowded resteraunt.

He nodded at you after talking to Sasha, then you followed him out. The air was a little cool, wet with humidity and a few clouds rolling in as you stepped outside.

He made you feel comfortable on the ride home, and waving goodbye as he took the elevator up one floor above yours.

He became someone you found it easy to gravitate towards, and calmed some of your nerves whenever you went out.

Jean was a gentle giant, and despite his size, he was never intimidating or overwhelming.

He sat with you the next friday night, like he had for the last three, at the bar. You tugged on the strap of your tank top, it was a summer job you were working  together, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

"Are you old enough to be drinking that?" you said, referring to the alcohol in his hand.

"Nope, but when you're pretty and hang out with the managers, you don't get carded." You rolled your eyes. He wasn't wrong, but still. "I heard you had a save today," Jean said, taking a sip of his drink. The beer made his breath smell bready, leaving a bit of fizz on the top of his lip.

"Yeah," you said, reaching a hand out to his face. You wiped the residue off his cupid's bow with your thumb before leaning back. "A kid came off the slide and didn't really know how to swim."

"Your first one?" Jean asked.

"No, third," you answered, stealing a few fries from his basket. "One spinal from someone who decided to go off headfirst, one in the wave pool," you explained.

"You're lacking," Jean shook his head.

"Yeah, well, you've been working at the park a year longer than I have," you answered, taking more. He slid the basket over to you, leaning on the bar.

"Have you ever gone after hours?"

"Like... night swimming?"

"Yeah. I have a key, if you wanna go."

"Are you auditing me or something?"

"No— I'm serious. We won't get in any trouble." You looked around. "Look," he said, placing his hand on your shoulder. "All the other managers are here, drunk off their ass, and there are no cameras at the park."

You looked over to them, they were all sitting around a table red-faced and laughing, even levi and miche.

"Okay," you shrugged. "Why not."

The drive was about 5 minutes, and it was odd seeing the empty water park. No lights, no people, and Jean had to step into the office to turn all the slides on.

He climbed into the stand as you eased into the water, jumping off of it and in. He ran his hand through his hair as he came up, watching you tiptoe through the water.

"You're not gonna go under?" Jean asked, wading in the deep end of the pool.

"It's cold!" you yelled across the water, ducking under a rope barrier.

The two of you met in the middle where he could stand and you couldn't. You held onto his shoulders to keep yourself afloat, and it put you two closer than you would've expected.

His hands wrapped around your waist, and before you could protest, he dunked you underwater, getting your head wet.

"There," he said, picking you back up. You laughed, hitting him on the shoulder.

"Fuck you," you smiled.

"Wouldn't you like that," he teased, making you hit him again. The two of you stayed there for a moment, holding each other, before you pulled away.

"Let's ride something," you suggested. "Malibu pipeline is a two seater."

Jean agreed, following you to the stairs. The park was pretty big, and the black slide was nearly on the other side.

"This is why I hate working here sometimes," Jean sighed.

"What, the walking?"

"The stairs, specifically," he said, jogging up the wooden ones with you.

"I think it's worth it," you shrugged. "I've seen kids ride this over and over and they never seem to get tired from the climb."

"When I was twelve, maybe I could've," he said, reaching the top of the platform. The water was already running, and you put the tube down, sitting in the front. Jean got in behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist. "Ready?"

"Yep," you responded, and he pushed the two of you down.

It was a shorter ride than you remembered as a kid. "That was kinda underwhelming," you frowned, hopping out of the tube. "Also this swimsuit is so uncomfortable. I wish they would invest in better uniforms."

"Take it up with Erwin," Jean said,  making his way to the stairs with you. "But I think it looks great on you."

"Thank you," you replied. "You too."

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walked to the lazy river, grabbing a few tubes and getting in.

"This is nice," you sighed, leaning back as the water carried the two of you around. "It's quiet," you said, holding onto Jeans tube so the two of you could float together.

"It's my favorite place to come after close," he sighed. "Silence, besides the sound of the water," he nodded. You closed your eyes, listening to it.

You had no idea how many laps you had taken around by the time you opened your eyes, but it was at least 3.

"Are you—" you looked over to see that Jean wasn't there. "Jean?" you called looking around. You sat up on the tube from your laying position, looking around.  "Jean?" you called again.

It was silent for a few moments, before he jumped in the water, splashing you. It knocked you off your tube, and you could hear him laughing before you even came up from the water.

"Jesus, you scared me," you said, kicking him under the water. He just kept laughing and you swung at him, hitting his chest. "Ow," you said, shaking your hand out. Jean caught your wrist as you retracted it, pulling you closer to him.

"That hurt?" he smiled, tilting his head to the side.

"No," you lied, trying to pull your arm away from him, but he only tugged you closer. You tried with your left, but he caught that one too, holding both of your wrists in one hand.

"Aw, that's cute." You were at a loss for words, lips parting but nothing coming out.

"Is it?" you managed.

"Yeah," Jean said, using his other hand to pick you up by the back of your thighs.

You let him wrap your legs around his waist, exhaling as he did it. He leaned down towards you, eyes searching your face. He kissed you, just for a second, before pulling away.

“Jean—“

"Sorry," he said, pulling back but not letting go of you.

"Don't be," you said, resting your hands on his shoulders.

"I should be," he said. "Liking your coworker is— never a good idea."

"And you know this how"

"I don't know," he sighed, looking away from you. There was a crack of thunder. "Uh, we should get out," he said, putting you down on your feet.

"Yeah," you agreed, pushing yourself up on the wall.

There was silence on your walk back to the front of the park and Jeans car, and by the time you had pulled all your clothes back on, it had started to rain heavily.

"Jean," you said as you got in the car, escaping the rain."

"Yeah?" he responded. 

"For the record, I think it's worth it," you said, eyes flitting over his face before you pulled his to yours. Your lips met gently, and you could feel him smile against you as you pulled away.

"Me too."

[kitkatopinions]

The only way I can see RWBY recovering in quality is if the island arc in volume 9 ends with seemingly days passing in the island world and a time skip in Remnant. The world of Remnant and their friends have moved on from the loss of RWBYJ in Atlas and have been dealing with Salem for 3 years or so. Gives the world time to heal from the damage RWBY+ caused in Atlas and with the broadcast and realize how much they fucked up following Ruby Rose blindly. Solves the age gap debates of Rosegarden if that's the ship they want to go with for Ruby and Oscar. Let's Sun move on from Blake organically and allows Blake to come to terms with any romantic feelings she had for him and how that chance is long gone. An opportunity for Salem to take control in a way that might not have been possible were it not for RWBY+'s actions in Atlas. Shows that the protagonists can fuck up and suffer consequences.

Ahhh, see, I specifically don't want a time skip because I think it likely will be a way to remove the affects of a bunch of the stuff that I want pay off for. You say that having the world have time to heal from RWBY + actions would be a good way to show the consequences, but I disagree with that. I think that'd actually be the quickest way to make Ruby's actions not matter and not seem important. Having her forced to see the full effects of her actions as the suffering is unfolding in front of her would be a way to get her to actually see for herself that maybe she's made some massive mistakes.

Can I paint a picture for you?

Ruby, Yang, Blake, Weiss, and Jaune get back from the island quickly, only a day having gone by for the people in Remnant. The refugees have just arrived in Vacuo, they lost tons of people trying to get through the desert, everyone is staggering with exhaustion as they move through the Vacuo streets, parents carrying their sobbing children, there are people throwing rocks at Winter and people trying to beg her to save them because they saw her fly through the gates and guessed that she was magic, there's sirens over a comm system in the city, trying to alert everyone to remain calm that's been going on for the hours it's taken to try and get everyone in and calm-ish in the first place. On top of that, the gates are flooded with guards working around the clock to keep Grimm out of the city, some of the exhausted Atlas hunters have gone there as well, Ren and Fiona and Team SSSN are desperately defending the last few hundred stragglers as they arrive. Ruby, Yang, Weiss, Blake, and Jaune are shocked, dismayed, they manage to get to the Academy where Nora is there with Oscar and Theodore, Theodore trying to get in contact with the Vacuo council in clear distress. Oscar tells them that everything has gone wrong, that everyone is panicking, that Vacuo was already struggling with keeping the Grimm away from the city when Ruby's message came, and with the addition of the refugees, the Grimm are coming in by the hundreds - by the thousands - almost more than the Vacuo authorities can fight back. Ruby is so confused, she'd been trying to reunite the world! But she just brought panic instead, and she now has to contend with that while seeing the immediate aftermath. She knows Qrow is missing, she tries calling him on her scroll, hoping she just missed him among the refugees. She and Yang are going crazy with worry, they think he might've been stuck in Atlas, he might be hurt, he might be dead, he might get captured by Salem, and they both have to face that. Being assigned by Theodore to help get refugees to the homes they've been temporarily assigned to squeeze into, Ruby is confronted by grieving families who lost everything, parents who tell her their daughter was one of the Atlas soldiers who died fighting on the front lines at Atlas, a couple with four kids spit at her and refuse her help because to them, her broadcast felt like a death sentence for Atlas while she called for hope for the rest of the world like they didn't matter. As she's traveling, Ruby runs into Neon and Flynt. They're angry and bitter too, coldly telling her that Ivori and Kobalt died in the fight against Salem. Ruby leaves that encounter wiping away tears. She wants to break down, but then gets assigned her next family to move and has to push it down and get back to work trying to do her job. Meanwhile Weiss has to deal with a brother who still clearly needs someone to help and take care of him when their relationship is somewhat rocky. Nora and Ren have to have distance and sort through what they want in their relationship and we see that and the immediate affects of their breakup. Salem has two Relics and Ruby has to explain that to Ozpin and maybe admit some mistakes and apologize while it's still relevant enough to matter to him. Emerald sees the affects of a lot of what she's done and has to contend with the fact that Mercury will be in Vacuo and she has to choose whether to try and help him or fight him instead. Mercury and Tyrian have to react in real time to the fact that the Atlas plans went completely sideways and now there's tons of people from Atlas here ruining whatever plans they have for Vacuo. Team RWBY work with Team SSSN while his and Blake's relationship is still clearly going to matter to him and he wants to continue where they left things and she has to explain her shift in feelings. Oscar is still contending with the fact that he and Oz are going to merge someday, asking questions about that. Salem must regroup now with so few people, and Cinder is going to have to try and keep up her lies in real time. Neo (if she survived the

island) is going to actually have to either get scrapped as a character or grow beyond her motivation of just wanting revenge. Winter is dealing with powers that are still new (remember, Maidens being 'new' is supposed to mean something) and having her whole world crash around her, while also maybe finally interacting with the family members outside of Weiss who have just had their entire way of life gone and now must adjust to sudden poverty. Qrow, Robyn, and the Ace Ops might have a storyline where they deal with what just happened themselves, maybe launching rescue for some of the people who didn't make it through the portals (like Pietro and Maria.)

These are all really important things that we should be expecting pay off for that should get focus and development. Ren and Nora's relationship problems, Oscar dealing with merging with Oz, how Cinder is going to regroup now, what will happen with Mercury, what the Schnees will do now they've suddenly lost everything, how Emerald is going to go on from her 'side switching,' how Qrow and Robyn reacted and where they'll go from here, whether or not Vacuo can even take in refugees, what the people think of RWBY and what consequences they've had to go through, and especially RWBY seeing the aftermath of the things instead of being allowed to just move on to the next thing and write it off as a victory like they did with Haven... All of that is something that we're likely to miss if we have a big time skip.

What I really don't want is for everyone to get back to the world after three to five years have passed only to see that it's doing pretty okay right now. Vacuo thriving with the Grimm population under control, and everything a little crowded, but most of the Atlas population settled in their new homes at this point, many of the important relationships of the side cast have been solved off screen and Maria, Pietro, and Qrow are already in Vacuo and have already adjusted to their various losses (both real for Pietro and believed for Qrow,) while (like you suggested,) Sun has just moved on from his dead former love interest he never got closure with that he promised to see again, because it has been years, and BlackSun fans like me see him in some relationship with someone he's never had any growth at all with (or maybe Neptune, which is... the preferable option over someone Sun's never actually talked to before.) Now Ruby doesn't see that her choices have caused major problems, instead she sees a city doing fine and if anyone is angry at her for causing them problems three to five years ago, they're mean. She's been supposedly dead for years and that person is just fine now! How can they yell at her? Now she doesn't see people suffering and Grimm flooding, she sees that her plan worked out in the long run, everyone just needed to hold on and have faith. She doesn't see a giant economic crash and families uprooted and soldiers dead and Pietro's reaction to the death of his daughter and people panicking over Salem... Ruby sees people talking about Salem as common knowledge, amassing troops to go after her now that the 'hard times' have started to pass, and she's validated. She knew it would turn out, she knew if she just believed, things would start working out!

I don't think the writers could save this show with a time skip, I think they'd just use it as a way to jump past the immediate affects of Ruby and her group's actions and avoid organic growth and problem solving while 'not being unrealistic' about it. If they brought RWBYJ back to Remnant within days, weeks, or even months, people expect real repercussions for the things that happened in the previous couple of seasons. They won't be able to just pretend none of it happened - or they might, but then most people will (hopefully) realize that's stupid.

So their choices are 1. just waving everything away and pretending there aren't any consequences to actions, 2. bring RWBYJ back in days, weeks, or months and address and deal with problems in a way that feels natural, 3. have a time skip so they can bypass the affects and consequences and avoid giving pay off for much of the things that fans have been expecting and waiting around for.

[justanotherlifeff]

Bakugo who thinks that the reader is cheating on him (but she's not) and they have a really bad fight? A fluffy end

Don't you trust me?

Warning: Angst with a happy ending, mentions of cheating though no one cheated.

The texts glared back at Bakugou from the screen of his phone. A random number just sent him some screenshots and pictures a while ago. Did he almost delete them cause he thought it was spam? Yes. Yes he did. However, did he decide against it once he saw the picture of you, nude and in someone else's arms? Yes. To his regrets, he had to check this.

The screenshots of sexual conversations and pictures of you with someone else stared back at him. The account in the screenshots had your profile picture. You had the same hairstyle as now in those pictures with the other guy. By now, he was sure that you were cheating. Bakugou didn't have his mind on hero work the rest of the day and snapped at anyone and everyone. After all, he had to deal with you after going home. You, his biggest mistake so far.

"Welcome home!" your sweet voice called out as soon as he reached home. However, it made him twitch in anger. How could you do this to him? After everything he had done for you... Walking upto you, Bakugou decided to throw it all on the table immediately. He was done with your deception. "Drop that crap (Y/N). We both know what you've done." he stated, glaring at you. "What? What have I done? What's wrong?" you asked, clearly confused as to why he was acting this way.

"You're gonna play dumb now? I fucking have proof. After everything I've done for you, how fucking dare you go fuck some random bastard? If you didn't fucking want to be with me, why the fuck did you not tell me instead? You just had to be a whore and go cheat on me didn't you hah?!" Bakugou yelled at you, throwing the dinner you made on the floor while he was at it.

At this point, you had tears streaming down your eyes. "Katsuki... What are you talking about? Why are you acting like this? I don't understand..." you choked out. "You're still gonna play dumb huh? Here. Fucking take it. When you're done reading, I want you out of my home." Bakugou snarled at you as he shoved his phone at you. How could you still pretend to be innocent, Bakugou wondered as you read through the screenshots on his phone and saw the pictures. You should know that you're caught by now right?

"Katsuki.... These texts are old... I don't know how my new profile picture got here..." you muttered, looking at the texts. At this point, Bakugou was done with you. How could you even make these excuses? "(Y/N), get the fuck out of my house. I'm not listening to your excuses." he answered as he glared at you. "Don't you trust me?" your small hurt voice tried to reason with him. However, his answer was clear when he looked away from you.

Just after you left home, Bakugou decided that he needed a drink. Sitting at his home bar (idk what else these are called?), he made himself an alcoholic drink and sat at a barstool, scrolling through the very pictures that caused his recent breakup. He honestly thought you were the one for him. Hell, you even tattooed his initials on your waist... Wait... Those pictures did not have a tattoo...

Bakugou immediately got the explicit pictures on his screen to check if the tattoo was hidden by makeup or not. The picture was taken by a good camera and hence, any hint of makeup would've been visible. That made Bakugou come to the conclusion that you infact did not have the tattoo. Which meant that you were right. This indeed was a picture from atleast 3 years back since you clearly had that tattoo for three years already.

Bakugou never drove to his office faster. He was almost sure that he would get fined for speeding but luckily, he wasn’t. As a top pro hero, Bakugou had the means to track messages and phone calls whenever it was necessary in missions. However, this was far more important than any mission ever and he was ready to face the consequences when the police show up at his door for invading a civilian's privacy.

Not to Bakugou's surprise, it was your ex who sent him those messages. Ofcourse, it all made sense now. Bakugou finally went public about your relationship last week and it only made sense that your worthless piece of shit ex got jealous. There was no way you were going to go back to the guy since he did cheat on you before. The picture didn't show the man's face, which is why Bakugou wasn’t able to figure this out earlier.

Without wasting a moment, he drove to your old apartment, assuming that's where you went. The amount of guilt he felt was crushing him. "She didn’t deserve this. She deserves better." were the only thoughts in Bakugou's head. It was a miracle that Bakugou wasn’t caught speeding this time either.

You opened the door not long after he rung the bell. "What do you want?" your emotionless voice asked him, breaking his heart even more. "I was wrong. I should've trusted you. I figured it out. It was your ex right? He probably sent this shit to me to spite me. Those screenshots were edited. I... Fuck I'm sorry (Y/N).... I understand if you don't want to..." Bakugou's extremely rare apology was cut short as you hugged him tightly. "Don't mistrust me again, Katsuki. I'm giving you one last chance." you whispered. Bakugou didn't give you an answer. Instead, he hugged you back tighter, letting you know that he would never make this mistake again.

At this point, even the police showing up at his home the next day with charges of speeding and invading civilian privacy wouldn’t seem like a bad thing.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Marital Discord

Warnings: noncon/dubcon (rough sex, toy, fingering).

This is dark!Bucky and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The reader finds her marriage falling apart; Bucky’s never home and when he is, he’s not really there, but he’s not as aloof as he seems to be.

Note: Alright, we finished Summertime Sadness, I gotta figure out HSB and my other few series that need to be tied up. Hopefully by my one year mark we have some new ones in swing. Thank you. Love you guys!

Leave some feedback, like and reblog if you can <3

The front door clicked and you lifted your head. You scrolled up quickly on the tablet and hit sign out. You locked it and pushed it against the wall in hopes it would go unnoticed. You grabbed the oven mitt and rushed over to the stove. You opened it and pretended to check on the roast inside, lifting the lid of the pan to glance over the darkening meat.

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice was dull as you heard him enter the kitchen. “Smells good.”

“Thanks,” You stood and removed the glove and tossed it on the counter. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

He narrowed his eyes but the tension quickly left his face. “Skipped training,” He shrugged. “Just wanted to… relax.”

“Oh,” You nodded.

Relax. Alone. He didn’t need to say it. That was just how things were these days. He was monotone, bored. So were you. He came home late most nights. You were already in bed. He didn’t bother to wake you. Didn’t think to. And when you were awake, he barely spoke to you. Even when he was right beside you, it was as if he wasn’t there. How had it come to this?

Three years of marriage and the ring chafed on your finger. Your relationship had begun when he started talking and it would look to end as his words turned again to silence. He no longer told you about his day, just grumbled when you asked about it. He kissed your cheek diligently but not out of love. And he hadn’t fucked you in months.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. You were sweet to him. Tried to be. But he echoed your ‘love yous’ like a child reciting their homework. And he bristled when you touched him. And so you stopped. You let him be. Small talk and tense silences. That was all that remained between you.

“Hungry?” You asked. 

You leaned on the island between you as your thighs rubbed together. You were wet. You had been halfway through a particularly fiery fic when he arrived. You hoped you could find it again later.

“Sure,” He said. “Is it almost ready?”

“Twenty minutes or so,” You replied.

“Ok,” He stretched his shoulders. “Let me know.”

“Of course, babe,” You smiled. He didn’t.

You watched him disappear into the living room and the tv flicked on. Baseball commentators sounded over the drone of the crowd. You sighed and turned back to the counter. He’d eat his dinner in front of the screen again. His eyes would cling to it as if you weren’t even there. You took out two plates and some cutler. You looked to the stove timer and the seconds ticked by slowly.

You reached for the tablet again. You peeked at the door though you knew he wouldn’t appear again. You punched in your code and reopened the app. You signed in and scrolled through your dashboard until you found it again. You found your spot and leaned in the crook of the counter as you began to read.

‘He held her. No, clung to her. She was everything he needed and his love was laced with that inherent fear, the knowing, that one day, she would be gone. He kissed her like it was their first, like it was their last. Her touch left fire across his skin as she traced the line of hair that led to his--”

The fridge opened and you looked up with wide eyes. You hit lock on the tablet and set it down softly as you turned to watch Bucky pull a beer out from the fridge. He popped the cap off with his vibranium thumb and tossed it in the bin. He barely looked at you but his eyes didn’t miss the tablet face down beside you. You turned before he could see your guilt.

You listened to him retreat back to the living room. You shook your head; at him, at yourself. Why should you feel guilty? He was neglecting you. You weren’t his wife anymore, you were a burden. So why shouldn’t you find solace in words? That’s all they were. Why shouldn’t you pull out that buzzing toy when he was gone and grasp at that fleeting release? Why should you try when he wouldn’t?

The timer beeped three times and you shoved the tablet back against the wall. You turned off the oven and opened it up. You lifted out the large roasting pan and set it on the stove. You focused on the aroma. You were suddenly very hungry. You took a carving knife and set to work.

Just another night alone.

💍

Bucky knew she was lonely. He was too. And he tried to try but he couldn’t. Not since that night. Not since…

He didn’t even want to think about it. It was the last time he touched her on his own accord. He was too embarrassed to try again. He could blame it on the stress, on the lingering scars of the past, on all that he felt mounted on his shoulders, but he couldn’t help but feel it was just him. His own inadequacy. The fear that he could never truly make her happy. That he could never truly be happy.

She had said goodnight twenty minutes ago. He echoed her words and glanced over at her briefly. She had her phone in her hand, the screen black, though she held it tightly. He waited for her to kiss his cheek as she did every night. She didn’t. He watched her go and his chest tightened. It was over. It was really over.

He flipped through the channels absently as his mind returned to that night. They were on the very couch he sat on. She was atop him, her mouth on his, her hips rocked as she teased him through his jeans. A whole hour of fooling around like teenagers and he was still soft. He wanted her but his body just wouldn’t respond. 

When she tried to undo his fly, he pushed her away. He didn’t mean to be so abrupt but he also didn’t know how to say it. It’s not you, it’s me. He hated that empty cliche. He apologized but was otherwise speechless. He’d left her there and waited until she went to bed to come out of hiding. He slept in the recliner.

He sat forward and held his head as he thought back on it He just couldn’t find the courage to talk to her about it. To fix this thing. He was a coward. And he let her down just like he had everyone else. 

He slid his metal fingers along his bottom lip as he thought. He closed his eyes and saw that peculiar expression on her face. The way she had looked at him in the kitchen earlier. He knew guilt when he saw it. Recognized the shame he felt so deeply. And more. She had a secret. She’d never had secrets before.

His mind strayed to the tablet, to the phone gripped in her fingers. That had to be it. She was talking to someone else. Could he blame her? Well, yeah. She was his wife, his love, but hadn’t he pushed her to it? It didn’t matter. She was his. 

His blood boiled and he sat up as he thought about it. About this other faceless guy. The man taking her from him. His own shame, his own regret, slaked away and he was overwhelmed by his anger. He let out a growl and stood.

He went to the kitchen. The tablet was gone but she hadn’t had it with her. Maybe she’d already put it in the bedroom. He shook his head and paced the tiled floor. He returned to the living room but couldn’t sit. Well, maybe she was already asleep. He could sneak in and grab it.

He went to the hallway and listened. He didn’t hear anything. His eyes were drawn to a cord as he slowly began across the carpet. Her tablet was on the side table charging. He should’ve remembered. She always kept it there at night. She’d wake and take it with her on her way to the kitchen. She’d pore over the news as she drank her morning coffee. It had been a long time since he’d shared it with her.

His fingers grazed over the screen. He held his breath as he peeked over at the bedroom door. It was closed. He hesitated before he picked it up. He exhaled slowly and turned to stand with his back against the wall. He hit the button and the screen lit up. He typed in the four digit code; she hadn’t changed it. Was it careless or was it a sign of her innocence?

He looked down the hall again before he began to swipe through the apps. Her messenger was almost dead; a conversation with her mother, several with her friends, but nothing recent or suspicious. He opened the browser and checked the history; a few recipes, some articles, but again, nothing untoward. 

Then a notification popped up. ‘We found something you might like, sugar-plum-17.’ That was what he called her; sugar plum. She always cringed at the pet name but he adored that crinkle in her forehead. He blinked and hit the bubble before it could disappear.

He frowned as he scrolled through the post that came up. It was some story or another. He hit the back arrow and found her page. He dragged his finger up the screen. He read the comment she’d left on her last reblog. 

‘This was so hot. I’d love a rough ride, if you know what I mean? Can’t wait to see how dark this gets.’

His heart was racing. He swiped back up and hit keep reading on the original post. His eyes glossed over until they caught on a particular passage.

‘This stranger knew her and yet she knew nothing of him. Not his face, not his voice, not his scent, only his touch. Rough and demanding. He held her hands in one of his as he pinned her beneath him. The mask hid all but a pair of bright blue eyes. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and moved up her body to keep her arms in place. He wrapped the black fabric around her eyes.’

He stopped and looked up at the wall. The words were burned into his mind. He was stunned. She liked this? He looked back to the tablet and continued to read. The scene was graphic and he found the heat crawling up his spine and into his cheeks. When he got to the end, he was hard. And shocked.

He hadn’t had an erection since before that last time. He had tried anything and everything but nothing. And now he was so hard it hurt. He wanted her. Too bad, she didn’t want him.

He closed out of the app and set the tablet back down. He braced himself as he walked down the hall. Maybe he could apologize. He’d wake her up and explain it all. His fear, his embarrassment, his stupidity. He stopped by the door and leaned against it, his hand on the knob. He couldn’t turn it as a noise from the other side held him in place.

There was a low buzz mingled with her heady breaths. Soft moans muffled and strained. He knew what she was doing. His cock twitched and he pressed his hand to the front of his jeans. He listened intently through the wood. She was getting close. He rubbed himself through the denim and she squeaked and gasped. She had cum but he couldn’t. No, he had to wait.

He drew away from the door as the buzzing stopped and quickly retreated down the hall. He went to the living room and grasped the back of the couch as he hung his head and thought. This had to end. This interminable stalemate. And he knew just how to draw out a truce.

💍

The house was terribly empty. Having Bucky home, even as a shell, was preferable to not at all. He texted you earlier to tell you he would be away for a couple days. Last minute mission in Prague. There wasn’t much you could say. It was a good excuse for him not to face you. His work was always a convenient out.

You made sure to lock up the house before you settled down in bed. The usual; alone, snuggled up with your pillow against the headboard as you scrolled through your dashboard. A good fic and you’d be ready to sleep. Your bedtime work-out made sure of that.

You clicked on the newest fic by your favourite author. Another part in her twisted tale of a robber and his mark. The way her antagonist taunted her main character was chilling but delectable. The man behind the mask stalked her towards the line of insanity. His desires were more than monetary and entirely arousing.

You reached for the toy nestled against your leg atop the blanket. You were getting to the good part. You bit your lip and your thumb hovered over the button. You kept yourself from clicking it as you heard a creak. You sat up and set your phone aside, the vibe clutched in your hand. You listened; silence.

You laid back and reached for your phone. As you picked it up, you heard the familiar groan of the floorboard near the front door. You shot up and hit the phone icon. No signal, no wifi. You tried to reconnect, checked that you hadn’t hit airplane mode unknowingly, but nothing. It had been working a minute ago.

You didn’t hear anything else. You hung your legs over the edge of the bed and assured yourself it was all in your head. You stood and neared the door. You’d go out and confirm your paranoia then sleep before it got the best of you.

You stepped out into the hall. You peered down the living room than to the bathroom. You slowly made your way to the former and looked around. Just the shadows of furniture and dim glare of street lights through the window. You shook your head at yourself and turned back.

As you did, a darkness suddenly enshrouded you from behind. You barely had time to react as strong arms surrounded you. You thrashed out and yelped as you were dragged backwards. Your phone slipped from your hand and the vibe clicked on in your panic. You kicked and flailed as you struggled to escape the intruder.

His hand wrapped around yours as his arm tightened around your waist. He turned you with him and dragged you around the couch. He pried your fingers from the toy and took it in his own. He chuckled and spun you away from him. He shoved you roughly and you fell onto the cushions.

“Please--” You begged. Was this your karma? Maybe a nightmare all too vivid to escape? It couldn’t be… real.

“Shut up,” His voice was gristly beneath his mask. “This what you like?”

He held up the you, still buzzing, and you tried to stand. He caught your shoulder and pushed you back down. His hand slid to your throat and he bent over you, his breath seeped through his mask and against your temple.

“Stay.” He snarled. “Or I’ll hogtie you with your own panties.”

You whimpered and his other hand pressed the vibe along your chest and rolled it down your stomach. He slid his fingers beneath the elastic of your pajamas and forced his hand between your legs. The toy glided too easily between your folds. You gasped.

“Ah…” He snickered at your lack of underwear. “Well, I can always figure something out.”

“What do you want?” You breathed.

“What do you want?” He countered as he angled the vibe against your clit. “I think I can guess actually.”

“There’s a safe--”

“We’ll get to that… once I’ve had my fun,” He snarled. “Doesn’t seem like you need much help.”

The toy was slippery in his gloved hand and you trembled as his fingers squeezed your throat and he pushed you harder against the couch. He cradled the toy with his palm and slipped a finger inside you. You squeaked and he shoved another past your entrance. He moved his hand steadily as he pressed his masked cheek to yours.

“That’s it,” He purred. “You like that?”

You tried to shake your head and sobbed. You did. To your disgust, you did.

“Where’s your husband, hmm?” He asked. “Leaving a thing like you all alone.”

“My husband?” You wisped.

“A lot of shoes for one man.” He remarked. “Lined so neatly by the door. Was that you? Such a sweet little housewife.”

You nodded and gulped. Your thighs were tingling and your core glowing. You thoughtlessly grabbed the wrist of the hand at your throat and tilted your hips. You panted. His touch felt familiar and strange all at once. It had been so long that even the roughest touch could make you shudder.

“Cum for me,” He growled against your cheek. “You can try to fight it but we both know… you can’t.”

Your thighs closed around his hand and you spasmed. Your moan was strangled by his hand. You slapped at his shoulder as you orgasmed and pushed against the cushion behind you. He released you suddenly and you sank into the couch as he pulled his hand away.

“So…” He undid his fly. “You gonna play along or do I need to go find one of your husband’s belts? Wouldn’t that be hot?”

You shook and hung your head. He pushed his fly apart. “Get undressed.” He ordered.

You sniffed and stood carefully, afraid to provoke him. You pulled your tank top over your head and shimmied out of your pajama pants, the remnants of your arousal dampened the fabric. You gulped as you looked up at the stranger. His hand was in his pants, stroking himself.

“Turn around,” He sneered. “Up on the couch… on your knees.” You glanced around and he stepped closer. “Try it.” He challenged. 

You blanched at him and turned reluctantly. You neared the couch and climbed up. You braced the back of it and closed your eyes. You sensed him behind you. His gloved hand caressed your neck and tickled along your shoulder. He trailed down your back and his fingers hooked around your hip. He pulled you back until your knees were at the edge of the couch and you were slightly bent.

He slapped your ass and pinched it sharply. You cried out. “Shut up!” He growled. “You don’t want the neighbours to hear, do you?” He spanked you again. “Gossip travels quickly.”

You gritted your teeth and hissed. His cock touched your ass and he rubbed it along your skin. A line of precum left across your cheek. You dug your nails into the couch as he guided his tip lower and squeezed your hip until you arched your back. He slickened himself with your juices and lingered at your entrance.

He bent over you as his hand slipped from your hip and he felt around for your clit. As he teased you with his fingertips, he sank into you, his stomach firm against your back. You moaned and slapped your hand over your mouth. He hummed.

“That’s right. Nice and quiet,” He nuzzled your hair as he began to thrust. “Fuck…”

He groaned and continued to play with your bud. The sharp teeth of his zipper dug unto you with each thrust. Your breath hitched and you moved your body in tandem with his. You didn’t realize you were doing it until you were biting down on your knuckles and the sounds of fucking filled your ears. 

His other hand returned to your throat. He stood and pulled you back. You grasped at his hand as he sped up. He jolted your whole body as you balanced precariously on your knees. His grunts swirled around you and your moans were barely stifled by your own hand. 

You were carried away by the sheer pleasure. It was as if your body couldn’t handle it. Your mind was smokey and your vision a blur. The snarls sounded more and more familiar as they grew louder. You reached back and gripped the man’s thigh as you met your peak suddenly. You swallowed back the whine and your walls twitched around him.

“That’s it,” He purred.

He pushed you up against the back of the couch and climbed up behind you, his knees between yours. He pounded into you and his hand left your clit as he reached up. He didn’t waver as he pulled off his mask and held it out before you. He swore as the gristle left his voice and he came in you.

He leaned against you as he stilled and nibbled at your ear. He kissed your cheek and his hand fell from your throat. He dragged his nose along your temple and chuckled.

“Is that what you like, sugar plum?” Bucky’s voice cut through the haze of your thoughts.

[wordsablaze]

To Be Loved

Love is a fickle thing, it can burst into life within minutes or it can take months to fully bloom. The one thing Jaskier and Eskel can always agree on is that it's more than worth the time it takes...

A/N: continues on from to be found but also works as a standalone, written for aro week <3

-

Their first date had gone well, all things considered.

Eskel had been a little sleep deprived on account of working until late and worrying until even later but Jaskier hadn’t seemed to mind at all, bursting with enough enthusiasm for the both of them.

He’d been waiting outside the bakery at six, scrolling through his phone and looking up just as Eskel was debating whether he should just sneak back inside. Jaskier had grinned widely and Eskel had immediately known it was going to be a good evening.

“You look like you have a lemon stuck in your mouth,” Lambert tells him as he walks into work a week later.

“And how would you know what that looks like?” Eskel grumbles.

To be honest, he’s felt like he has a lemon stuck in his mouth since last weekend because Jaskier had promptly disappeared off the face of the earth. He wants to think it’s just a coincidence but he can’t help feeling as though it’s another case of the whole Eskel isn't good at first dates so of course it wouldn’t work out thing again.

Lambert raises his hands in surrender and gestures to the kitchens, where everyone is allowed to work in peace when they’re not in the right mindset for actual interaction. He zones out immediately, only looking up when Coen pokes his head in the doorframe.

“We might need your help with this guy,” he says, and Eskel sighs, already expecting a problematic customer or something.

What he’s not expecting is Jaskier tapping his foot on the floor and biting his lip. He freezes when he sees Eskel, opening his mouth to say something, but Eskel holds up a hand. “Can you come through to the back? I don’t want to have this conversation here.”

In the few minutes it takes for them to reach the office, he’s decided he’s more than ready for Jaskier to admit his spontaneous flirting was just a whim and he's not interested in anything else. Only, Jaskier does nothing of the sort.

“Eskel, I am so sorry about disappearing! I didn’t mean to, I swear! It’s just that Shani’s place flooded so she broke her ankle and I had to drive her to the hospital but we were arguing on the way and this guy at a red light decided I’d hurt her as if I wouldn’t rather die but we ended up fighting and I ended up with a concussion again and we both had to stay for observation or something and I- I’m really sorry for leaving you hanging,” Jaskier blurts.

Eskel blinks.

“Is she okay?” he asks, not really sure what he’s meant to be focusing on.

Jaskier nods, his shoulders dropping as he lets out a slow exhale. “She went to medical school, she knew exactly what they were going to do before we even got in the car.”

“That’s useful,” Eskel replies, but then shakes his head. “Wait, are you okay? Someone gave you a concussion?”

He’d been amused last time Jaskier had downplayed concussions but now he’s seriously wondering if he should be concerned about how the other man can be so unfazed by so much - it’s not like you can develop an immunity to head trauma.

Jaskier just nods again. “Of course, I’m fine. I hope I didn’t give you the wrong impression?”

“Not at all,” Eskel lies.

There are arms around him before he can try and figure out whether Jaskier had seen through his lie. He stumbles slightly but allows the embrace to happen, oddly comforted by the fact that Jaskier is just as relieved to have explained the truth as Eskel is; maybe this time things truly can work out, he thinks.

.

“You really don’t have to go tonight,” Jaskier says for the fourth time that day.

Eskel sighs, throwing a cushion at him. “It’s been three months since we met, I think it’s about time I see you perform.”

Jaskier hums before flopping onto the small sofa, resting his head on Eskel’s lap with the rest of his body draped lengthwise, his feet dangling off the armrest at the end. “But I know you don’t like loud or crowded spaces and we aim to have exactly that,” he pouts.

There’s a long moment in which Eskel just appreciates that he’s not being forced to go despite how bizarre it is to experience the exact opposite situation. He smiles down at Jaskier and very truthfully says, “It won’t matter because I like you.”

He places a finger on Jaskier’s lips when he tries to argue again, chuckling. “And before you ask me again if I’m sure, don’t.”

Jaskier’s eyes practically sparkle for a moment before he twists his head and bites Eskel’s finger, nowhere near hard enough to hurt but firmly enough for it to be a shock.

Rolling his eyes, Eskel laughs. “What, my baking isn’t enough for you anymore?”

Starting to reply only to realise that he can’t form actual words whilst biting down on an index finger, Jaskier pulls Eskel’s hand away and grins. “Dessert is fine, darling, but you’re a five-course meal and I wouldn’t trade all the oven goodies in the world for you.”

Eskel has no idea how to reply to that.

It’s far more romantic than anything he’s used to and he’s never been good at flirting so the last thing he wants to do is say something that ruins whatever they have going on. After a long moment of panic, he settles on shrugging. “We have a pretty good oven.”

Jaskier hums in reply and thankfully doesn’t press on his hesitation, sitting upright with a small sigh. “I suppose I should go get dressed. Are you driving?”

“I don’t trust you with my car,” Eskel says, only half joking.

“I’ll be wearing those heeled boots then,” Jaskier grins, taking absolutely no offence as he springs to his feet and blows a kiss before heading to Eskel’s bathroom, where he’d dumped his change of clothes when arriving earlier and declared it was his domain for the rest of the day.

If anyone had told the Eskel of a few years ago that he’d willingly allow someone so chaotic to saunter around his home and genuinely flirt with him in every other conversation, he’d probably have rolled his eyes and assumed they’d somehow mistaken him for someone else; maybe changing his mindset has been for the better, he thinks.

.

The ocean has no right to be so elegant.

Eskel had never been a huge fan of beaches because the stubbornness of sand is quite frankly sinful but Jaskier absolutely adores everything about them and there’s only so many of his puppy dog eyes that can be refused.

“We’ll barely even touch the sand, I promise!” Jaskier had declared, and he’d made sure of it too.

Soon enough, they’re settled on the rocky side of the beach, propped up against a larger stone with their legs stretched out in front of them and their shoulders pressed together. Jaskier slips his fingers into Eskel’s and gently squeezes, which has quickly become one of Eskel’s favourite things ever.

“Aren’t the waves gorgeous?” Jaskier asks wistfully.

Eskel hums. “They can still kill you.”

Jaskier laughs, nudging him. “Ever the optimist, aren’t you? Nothing can kill me, darling, not today.”

Well, he can’t really argue with that because he feels the exact same way. It’s hard to think of anything morbid when celebrating six months together and he doesn’t particularly want to try so he just nods in agreement.

“Thank you,” Jaskier whispers after a while.

Eskel turns to him, tilting his head to one side. “No, you were right, it is soothing to watch the waves.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Jaskier lifts their connected hands and places a soft kiss on Eskel’s thumb before looking directly at him with an even softer smile. “Thank you for letting me stay for so long.”

He says that as if Eskel isn’t in disbelief about someone being willing to stay with him for so long, especially someone like Jaskier who could probably charm his way into the lives of anyone he pleases.

“I should be saying that to you,” Eskel admits, “I know I’m not exactly the best partner out there.”

Jaskier genuinely looks offended. He uses his free hand to poke Eskel’s stomach and glares at him. “Don’t say things like that, you are possibly the kindest and most patient person I know, not to mention the most handsome.”

Eskel’s face heats up at that and even though he knows he tries to be kind and patient, he can’t help wishing he could be more, that he could be charming and fun and worthy of the poetry Jaskier keeps texting to him whenever he’s drunk.

“Hey, look at me?” Jaskier asks.

Eskel’s head moves before he gives it permission but he has no regrets because Jaskier is smiling and he’s grown overly fond of that stupid smile and the way it manages to make him feel a little better every time it’s directed towards him.

“I love you,” Jaskier whispers.

Oh.

His expression must give his alarm away because Jaskier squeezes his hand again and shuffles so he’s leaning his head on Eskel’s shoulder, looking out at the ocean. “You don’t have to say it back but I couldn’t possibly have gone another day without telling you. And it doesn’t matter, you’re still the best.”

Jaskier falls in love with someone or something new every other day but they’ve both been hesitant to acknowledge his unwavering commitment to loving Eskel until now. Eskel exhales slowly, letting his head rest stop Jaskier’s and closing his eyes.

His first instinct is to apologise but he’s almost certain Jaskier would throw him into the ocean if he did so he settles for squeezing Jaskier’s hand and shuffling even closer, focusing on the way they fit together so well, on the way everything they do together is comfortable, on the way he doesn’t feel pressured to pretend.

He’s always been a little scared of actually finding the love he usually only hears about through everyone else in fear of somehow failing at it but Jaskier has never demanded anything he wasn’t happy to give; maybe love isn’t so frightening with the right people, he thinks.

.

“Jaskier, where’s my hoodie?” Eskel asks, frowning at his wardrobe.

He knows Jaskier sometimes borrows his clothes but he’s not sure how to take that since he seems to do that with literally everyone he knows, whether that’s his bandmates, random people he meets at bars, or even Ciri on a few memorable, drunk occasions.

“Which one?” Jaskier calls back from the kitchen where he’d gone to find popcorn because he refuses to watch a film without some.

Eskel sighs. “The red one with the flowers.”

“Roses!” Jaskier corrects, and Eskel just knows he’s shaking his head in exasperation. “And I don’t know!”

After a moment of frustration, Eskel shrugs on the other red hoodie and makes his way to the kitchen, groaning when he sees Jaskier wearing the not so missing hoodie. Jaskier’s eyes widen at the sound and he spins on his heel to check the microwave as if having expected it to be exploding.

“I thought you said you didn’t know?” Eskel asks, raising an eyebrow.

Jaskier only frowns. “I don’t?”

It takes him a minute to catch on and finally glance down at himself, at which point he bites his lip and looks up again sheepishly. “I just grabbed a random one,” he mumbles eventually.

Eskel rolls his eyes because it’s not the first time they’ve had this type of conversation and makes his way over, using his thumb to gently pull Jaskier’s lip out from under his teeth before very softly kissing him. “Blue suits you better,” he whispers.

Jaskier nods, still wide-eyed and a little breathless as he lifts his arms and loops them around Eskel’s neck. “But red reminds me of you,” he whispers back, his gaze flickering between Eskel’s eyes and lips.

Well, there goes Eskel’s heart melting again.

The microwave beeps at them before he figures out how to reply, both of them jumping enough for their foreheads to crash together. Jaskier curses immediately, stepping back as he rubs his head and glares at the microwave as if it’d just stabbed him.

“Hope the popcorn is worth the pain,” Eskel says, laughing.

Jaskier sticks his tongue out before pulling the popcorn out, pouring it into a bowl and handing said bowl to Eskel as he has the steadier hand and is far less likely to spill it all before they even sit down, which they’d unfortunately had to learn from experience.

“Don’t doubt me, darling, you are going to love this film!” Jaskier declares just as he always does - he’s only right about half the time but Eskel has to credit him for the everlasting confidence at least.

It doesn’t take them long to settle, Jaskier leaning heavily on Eskel and their arms wrapped around each other, and although Eskel is about ninety percent certain he won’t like the film judging by the cover, he wouldn’t dare interrupt Jaskier’s mission to broaden his cinematic horizons or whatever.

“You are unfairly comfortable,” Jaskier mumbles, practically burrowing into his chest.

Eskel laughs, snuggling closer himself. “You have very strange standards.”

Jaskier hums quietly, choosing popcorn over replying to the accusation just as the film finally starts with a rather cliché shot of the view from a window. He was right in thinking he wouldn’t particularly like it but Jaskier’s constant commentary has both of them laughing and it’s worth the watch anyway; maybe being with someone else makes the boring things less boring, he thinks.

.

Weird how a year can feel like forever as well as no time at all.

Eskel wakes up on the morning after their first anniversary with a slow smile, taking in the way Jaskier is sprawled over him like some sort of misguided blanket.

Perhaps it’s just Jaskier’s poetic influence over the past year but he thinks it’s utterly fitting that sunlight just so happens to be falling over the two of them in a way that makes it seem as though they’re glowing even though it’s still winter.

It’s a good thing Jaskier sleeps like the dead when he actually manages to fall asleep for a normal human amount of time because it gives Eskel the chance to do things like bring them breakfast in bed. This one he’s been planning for a while so he doesn’t waste any time gazing and quickly slips out of bed, getting himself sorted and making his way to the kitchen.

He more or less makes the pancakes with muscle memory alone because there’s a part of him that can’t help worrying. He knows Jaskier loves him, he knows that better than he knows most things, but he’s never had a relationship this long and he doesn’t know the right etiquette to all of this.

“Eskel?”

Cursing inwardly, he grabs the tray - complete with a plate of four pancakes, two mugs of coffee, and one small envelope - and heads back to his bedroom, pausing in the doorway. “Right here,” he smiles.

Jaskier returns the smile, then yawns before raising his eyebrows at the sight of the tray. “We already had anniversary breakfast yesterday?”

“Are you saying you don’t want the pancakes?” Eskel asks, smirking when Jaskier sits up with a grin that makes his answer perfectly clear. “Thought so.”

“Mhm, you’re the best boyfriend in the galaxy,” Jaskier says as Eskel places the tray at the foot of the bed and settles beside him.

Eskel is more than aware his face has probably gone embarrassingly red but for once, Jaskier doesn’t point it out, instead getting distracted by and picking up the little envelope with a frown. “What’s this?”

Deep breath.

“Can I open it now?” Jaskier asks, thankfully able to guess that Eskel’s throat has gone a little too dry for him to explain.

When he nods, Jaskier offers him a smile and rips one side open, gasping when he sees what’s inside: a key. Or more specifically, a replica of Eskel’s house key.

“I love you,” Eskel says honestly.

It’d taken him a while to get things sorted in his head - not to mention several awkward conversations with his family and friends - but at this point, he’s absolutely certain he loves Jaskier and nothing can make him question his heart in the slightest.

Jaskier sniffles and throws his arms around Eskel before he can apologise for making him cry. And Eskel laughs, holding his boyfriend whom he truly genuinely loves because he is capable of that after all close until they’re both satisfied they’re not going to actually burst into tears or anything.

“I love you back, of course,” Jaskier says as he pulls back, rubbing his eyes.

Eskel grins, ignoring the way it almost physically hurts his face, and only grins further when Jaskier kisses him despite both of them being a little too smiley for it to really work.

“I can’t believe you made me cry before pancakes,” Jaskier grumbles eventually, elbowing him, but he’s still half-grinning and there’s a lot of mixed signals.

Laughing, Eskel brushes his thumbs under Jaskier’s eyes. “The pancakes aren’t going anywhere.”

Jaskier hums in acknowledgement and twirls the key between his fingers for a long moment, apparently thinking something over. “You are aware this means you’re never going to get a moment of peace again, right?” he asks.

“I’m willing to take that risk,” Eskel replies even though he’s never felt more at peace than when he’s with Jaskier.

“On your head be it, darling,” Jaskier laughs, shuffling so he can curl into Eskel’s arms again, “I love you so much.”

Eskel’s reply is swallowed by the lump in his throat but it’s okay because Jaskier knows and he knows Jaskier knows and that’s more than enough. Their breakfast will probably go cold before they get round to it but neither of them will mind because everything else is just so perfect; maybe love is just being patient with the differences, Eskel thinks.

-

ik this is fairly niche so it's unlikely many ppl will be reading but just in case: this fic was not meant to reflect aromanticism as a whole - sometimes you just don't aim for love and that's totally valid !! this was just a lil ventfic,,

ongoing masterlist for this au if you’re interested :)

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thanks for reading !! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier​

[muwur]

If requests are open.. Suga x reader -3rd year student- where friends to pining where reader is a exchange student mid year -parent’s job- and reader is new to the school, can barely communicate Japanese and is too shy to meet new people.. reader is welcomed as a co-manager for vb club and all the other boys adopt her has their sister. She tutors them in their English lesson too.. also how would Suga help her open up from her shyness..

request: sugawara x fem! reader who is a shy exchange student!

another beginning.

✩ one-shot ✩ for sugawara bb

❧ fem reader

✎ 4.9k words

a/n: FINALLY GOT THIS BBY DONE, ty for being patient requester <3 i hope its ok, lmk if u would like smth different!

also curious but do yall listen to music when you write or read? i dnt always but when i DO i listen to some boppy music so i can shake mah ass (unles im depresso AHAHA) LMAO rec me some pls--

send me asks--

current listen: juicy by doja cat, gasolina by daddy yankee, 11 PM by maluma

A pencil dangled between two of your fingers, gently swinging back and forth as you tapped the eraser’s tip against your chin in thought. Looking over Hinata’s shoulder at the worksheet laying on the table, you extended your hand and made a neat scrawl on the page. “That’s good translating, Hinata! However,” you dragged your pencil across the surface, marking a line and arrow to point at a space near the beginning of his sentence, “keep in mind that although gerunds look like verbs, they act as nouns. So, this word should go here.”

Yachi, who was seated to your right, nodded in agreement. “I looked through his notes doodles, and it looked like they were going over gerunds in class!”

With narrowed eyes, Hinata scanned the page, muttering the sentence underneath his breath. Suddenly, his hazel eyes lit up in understanding and his lips morphed into a round “O.” “Ohhhh, that make a lot more sense! Thanks, (y/n), you’re a big help, especially in English! Also, look, guys!”

He rummaged through his cluttered backpack and fished out a slightly wrinkled sheet of paper with a red “14/50” marked on the top right corner. Holding it up proudly, he declared, “I got a better score than last time! By nine points!”

“That’s still an F,” Tsukishima pointed out, eyes glued to the pages of the book he was reading. Yamaguchi and Kageyama tried to stifle their snickers.

“Y-You’re not even looking!” Hinata defended. The ginger was met with a shrug. “I don’t need to see the score to know you failed.”

Before any fighting could break out, however, the door swung open, revealing the remaining third-years. Bags of snacks in their arms, the four of them stepped in. “We’re back! Your parent/guardian let us in, (y/n),” Sugawara announced, setting his bag down on the table. The rest followed suit and set the goodies down. Rummaging through one of the bags, Daichi pulled out a meat bun.

“Hinata, here’s your meat bun,” he said, handing the snack to the excited first-year, who had long-forgotten Tsukishima’s snide remark about his lack of intellectual aptitude. Kiyoko offered Kageyama his milk, the slight brush of their hands being enough to stir Noya and Tanaka into an envious craze. Asahi tried to settle them down, nervously reminding them that they needed to act respectful in your home, especially after your family had agreed to let you all study there. You stifled a giggle as Sugawara and Daichi joined in, scolding their underclassmen for their poor behavior and threatening them with a time-out.

With an exasperated sigh, Sugawara took a seat next to you on the mat. “Ah, I can’t help but worry about how Ennoshita’s going to handle both of them on his own.”

Giving a sidelong glance to the second-year, who was now forcing Noya and Tanaka to complete timed practice problems, your lips formed a small smile. “Looks like he does a pretty good job at it, though.”

Sugawara let out an amused huff. “Guess I’m worried over nothing. Oh, also,” he dug into the plastic bag in front of him, taking out your favorite snack and offering it to you. “Here you go.”

(can u tell from my stories yet that fav snacks aka actions are my love language--)

“Oh, thank you, Suga, I didn’t even ask for this…” you flashed him a grateful smile and took the package from his hands, suppressing the blush that threatened to overcome your cheeks as your fingertips brushed. He gave a sheepish smile and glanced to the side in response, giving the back of his neck an anxious rub.

“Ah, it’s the least I could do to thank you for letting us all come over to study. It’s really helpful. I appreciate it, (y/n).”

“It’s not much, really. I’m more than glad to help you all (read: Hinata, Kageyama, Tanaka, and Noya) out with English and offer my place. Having everyone together makes it easier. They need to pass these exams so you all get to play.”

Your offer to help the team with their studies may have seemed a simple gesture as both their friend and co-manager. On the inside, however, you really were more than happy to have everyone over for whatever reason. It left you with a feeling of awe. The last thing you would’ve expected 3 months ago was to be sitting in your new home in Japan, surrounded by a group of people who accepted you despite your poor Japanese and late appearance to Karasuno. Just 4 months ago, after you learned about your parent/guardian’s job transfer to Japan, you were left feeling an array of mixed feelings:

Anxiety – a whole new country? With a language you could barely even speak or understand? How was that going to work? Could you even make friends at school? God knows how long it took you to make the friends you have now.

Disappointment – you were looking forward to graduating high school with the friends you’ve made throughout the past few years. Having to say goodbye would be difficult, and you’d miss them.

Yet, you felt a sliver of hopefulness – new experiences were waiting for you. You had the opportunity to lead a new life in a foreign place. It filled you both with fear and exhilaration.

On the night before your first day at Karasuno, you could barely sleep after spending hours religiously practicing how to introduce yourself in Japanese. Having to introduce yourself to the class and speaking with your new classmates was inevitable, after all. And so the next day, you found yourself standing in front of the classroom, trying to suppress the nervous shudder that threatened to rack your body and ignore the prickles of sweat on your palms. Despite how much you mentally recited your introduction that morning, your current situation left your mind blank, unable to conjure any words. Fueled by the awkward silence, the numerous gazes focused on you, and the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach, what came out was a quiet, jumbled form of what you intended to say.

“Hello, (y/n) (l/n). I’m (insert your original country name here). I can’t Japanese, but I hope friends. Everyone, nice to meet,” you bowed, both in respect and so that you could hide your face, which was red from embarrassment. You knew you messed up, but you pretended otherwise, hoping that nobody would point out your mistake.

You straightened up after a few moments of silence, registering the confused looks of your new classmates and feeling another stab of shame. In response to your introduction, the teacher raised her eyebrows and blinked in confusion. Then her eyes warmed, and she offered you a smile as she spoke up. “Class, this is (l/n) (y/n). She recently moved here from (insert OG country here). She’s still learning Japanese; however, her English is perfect, so I’m sure you can all learn something from each other. Please make her feel welcome. Your seat is over there, (l/n).”

Shoulders sagging, you made your way to your desk, avoiding eye contact despite the pairs of eyes that followed you to your seat. Focusing on the lecture was a struggle. Not only could you barely understand anything the teacher was saying; worries about how the rest of the day would go also flooded your mind. This was only the morning; how could you navigate your way through the halls? Ask for directions? Would you meet people? Where would you eat lunch? How could you survive?

The remainder of the classes went by gruesomely slow. Too embarrassed from your slip this morning and too shy to meet new people despite wanting to make a friend, you successfully dodged conversation with any of your classmates. You were relieved that finally lunch came by, yet that presented another problem. You weren’t sure where to go, but you were sure that you were going to eat by yourself.

After a few minutes of walking around the hallways, you settled for eating lunch in the classroom. At least it meant you didn’t have to rush to class after the bell rang. Taking a seat, you pulled out your boxed lunch and set it out in front of you. Painfully aware of how alone you must have looked, you pretended to look really interested in your meal (am i the only one or--). You poked it, broke it into pieces, then brought each sliver to your mouth and chewed slowly. If only your family had switched your phone plans earlier, then you could at least spend time scrolling the internet or lament to your friends back home about how your day was going.

Still “engrossed” in your meal, you failed to notice a figure standing in front of your desk. Only after you saw a hand situate itself on the edge of your desk did you look up.

You met the chestnut eyes of a boy. He bore a warm smile that made a small crinkle in his eyes and beauty mark. Strands of grey hair draped naturally in front of his eyes and framed the sides of his face. Despite your unease, his soft features helped to calm your racing heart and mind. He seemed a friendly person; after all, he was able to approach you.

“Hey, you’re (l/n), right? I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can call me Suga. I’m in your class,” he introduced in pretty darn good English.

‘Man, that means he heard me this morning…’ you thought miserably. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some relief. Perhaps you hadn’t given others or yourself much of a chance before jumping to the conclusion that you were incapable of meeting new people.

Clearing your throat, you shyly extended a hand to him in greeting. “Yes, I’m (y/n) (l/n). Call me (y/n). It’s nice to meet you, Suga,” you replied hesitantly, finally using the correct words in Japanese that you had been practicing the previous night.

Shaking your hand, his eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Your Japanese sounds pretty good! You just moved, so you’re still learning, right? How about I help you improve that while you help me with English?”

You were about to nod eagerly in appreciation when you both overheard some snickering across the room. Two boys and a girl sat together, whispering quite loudly and sneaking oh-so-inconspicuous glances over at your desk. Taking notice that they were caught staring, they presumed to loudly munch on their meals and talk about the weather.

Suga only shot them annoyed glare and shook his head before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, those are my… Friends.” The strain in his voice after saying that last word made you question if they really were on friendly terms.

After that day, you found yourself spending every lunch period with Suga and his other third-year friends Daichi, Asahi, and Shimizu. You initially felt unsure of how to talk to them, but after Sugawara’s efforts to include you in his circle and some reassuring words about being yourself and not letting a small, temporary language barrier hold you back from making friends, you earned a bit of confidence. While you spoke a hybrid of English and Japanese with them, you eventually managed to pick up a lot of Japanese from talking everyday, and after these few months of constant exposure, you were able to hold decent conversations. Additionally, the extra help you sought from the teaching staff allowed you to be able to keep up in class, and your instructors were understanding enough to give you some leniency on your assignments during this adjustment period.

Hanging around your new friends often, it was only a matter of time before you were introduced to the rest of Karasuno’s boys’ volleyball team. It occurred one lunch period three weeks after you first arrived, when Asahi suggested that you join some club activities. You were discouraged, however, considering that it was already halfway through the year, you didn’t know enough Japanese yet to converse with just anyone, and you were a tad shy, which made joining clubs a bit difficult. At that moment, your new friends all made eye contact with each other, then looked at you.

“Why not join our volleyball club?” Suga asked. “Shimizu could always use the help. She’s our only student manager.”

Shimizu nodded in agreement, her blue gaze soft. “Your help would be really appreciated. There’s a lot to this job, so having someone to split the work with would be relieving. You can also help me look for someone to take my place when we graduate.”

Later that day you found yourself in the gym being blocked by Sugawara, who was protecting you from two crazed boys whose collars were held back by Daichi. A ginger-haired boy looked at you with curiosity, excitedly introducing himself as Hinata and pointing out the names of the other members on the court (“This is ‘Bakageyama’ and that guy’s ‘Four-eyed Jerk Face’—").

Upon their release (which was granted only after they promised to behave), Tanaka and Noya dashed over to you, tears in their eyes as they held your hands and expressed their gratitude for your presence. “Oh, (y/n), you kind soul, helping Shimizu with the managerial work. Better yet, now we have two cute girls to support us, this is amazing!”

And that’s how you found yourself sitting with your new friends in your living room and feeling grateful for their vibrant personalities, kindness, and acceptance. You couldn’t have asked for a better batch of friends to end your year with. Though, you were most grateful to Sugawara. If not for him, the last several months of your highschool experience may have gone by miserably, with nothing special to note and no new friends to celebrate with. His gentle, understanding nature had done nothing but support you and make you feel welcome. He helped introduce you to a new, comfortable life you had trouble imagining before your arrival to Japan. He dispelled your doubts and fears, instilling in you a newfound confidence in your abilities. It certainly helped that the team was just as supportive and patient with you.

You could recount the events of the past few months that brought warmth to your heart. These people were growing on you, making you feel like you could be yourself more each day. Daichi provided you a sense of security and leadership. Asahi was empathetic, quick to detect your feelings of uneasiness and asking you if you were okay. Shimizu made sure to make you feel welcome as a friend and fellow manager, even inviting you to a café over the weekend to brainstorm ideas on recruiting a replacement (who you both later discovered to be Yachi) and try out some desserts. Tanaka and Noya tried to teach you all the Japanese curse words they knew, initially lying to you about their meanings so they could see the rest of the team’s reactions when you would blurt things out in the middle of practice (Let’s just say that Daichi, Suga, Ennoshita, and Tsukki knew whose fault this was, and Asahi was real shook hearing a string of curse words from your mouth while you sat there, no ill intent emanating from you whatsoever). Ennoshita gave you a comforting, easygoing presence. Tsukki was… Tsukki (LOL). But he could carry on a conversation, often genuinely interested whenever you talked about the culture back in (other country). And you knew he was soft. Hinata was a burst of energy, and you found his bickering with Tsukishima and Kageyama silly and quite precious. You often stayed with Yachi to toss balls to Kageyama late at night, much to his appreciation. Yachi and Yamaguchi were some of the biggest sweethearts on the team, and all you could think about was needing to protect them.

There was definitely something different in your interactions with Sugawara, though. You found yourself closest to him out of everyone. It may have been because he was the first you talked to, or maybe it was because he was one of the most easygoing people you’ve ever met. That, and you found yourself wanting to get closer to him. You wanted to know more about him.

Sugawara chuckled in response. “I suppose you’re right. We wouldn’t have made it this far without everyone,” he said softly, a tinge of fondness showing in his brown eyes. He proceeded to take out his schoolwork and pen, resting his chin in his palm as he read the words across the page of his assignment. Occasionally, you glanced over at him, admiring the way his eyebrows knit together in concentration, and how his hair brushed his cheeks whenever his head shifted in its position. How the grey tips of lashes kissed his bottom eyelids with each flutter of his chocolate hues. You even took a mental note that his lips, currently pursed in thought, were rather smooth and full in appearance.

A rogue thought about how those lips would feel against your own flitted across your mind. It brought a small pang to your chest, and you had to mentally slap yourself back into reality. You noticed these new feelings were starting to become more prevalent the longer you hung around Sugawara. You consulted your friends back home about it, and in their excitement, they insisted you had a crush on this guy (and demanded photos). Heart palpitations, heat-flooded cheeks, covert glances, and a desire for closeness in all aspects possible? All symptoms of infatuation, your personal love doctors concluded. You recalled when these signs first appeared about a month ago, after he offered to walk you home when practice had gone late into the night. Initially you declined, not wanting him to go out of his way when it was already dark outside. However, after seeing the soft look in his eyes as he declared he wanted to ensure you got home safely and that he didn’t mind the walk, your heart couldn’t help but give in and agree.

It was a tranquil night, accompanied only by the sound of crickets chirping and a cool, whispy breeze. About 15 minutes after having left campus, you were both seated on an aged bench at a small park, snacking on recent convenience store purchases to satisfy your growling stomachs. A comfortable silence settled in the air. The nightly surroundings were illuminated by the gentle glow of several nearby lampposts and stars that burned lightyears away.

Your gaze followed the tracks of a small bug crawling across the sidewalk in front of your feet. It skittered soundlessly against the pavement, eventually disappearing in the security of a bush. A gentle sigh took hold of your attention, and your eyes flickered over to your friend, who was peering up at the star-dusted evening sky.

“Do you know what you’re doing after graduation?” he asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You shook your head. “No clue, to be honest. You?”

He pursed his lips and took a sidelong glance at you before focusing back upwards. “Well, I’ve always wanted to be a teacher…”

“Seems fitting. Your Japanese lessons have been really helpful,” you pointed out, smiling.

The tips of his lips curved upwards as well. “Really? I’m glad. You’ve improved a lot, too. You’re a quick learner.”

“Heh, well I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Another comfortable silence fell upon you two before he spoke again. “I was thinking about how to keep in touch with everyone after we left, and how it’s a shame we’re leaving so soon after you arrived. I would’ve liked to know you better, too, but there’s only a few months left...”

His genuine words left a rosy tinge on your cheeks. As you were thinking of a response, you looked down, noticing how close your hand lay next to his. Heartrate quickening, you stammered, “Y-Yeah, I wish we had more time, too.. T-To hang around each other, I mean. But graduation doesn’t have to mean goodbye, right?”

“That’s true... You always know just what to say, you know that, (y/n)?” he turned his gaze on you and held out an extended pinky. “Promise to talk to me after graduating, then?”

You rolled your eyes playfully and huffed in amusement. Taking your own pinky and intertwining it with his, you nodded. “So long as you keep your end of the promise, too.”

“Of course.”

Sugawara’s voice brought you out of your momentary flashback. “(Y/n)? Can I ask you a question?”

Blinking your previous thoughts away and calming the warmth on your cheeks, you responded, “What’s up?”

He slid his assignment closer to you, pointing at a section he was having trouble with. “Here. I’m not sure if I’m doing this correctly..”

You leaned in, scooching towards him and closing in on the gap between you. Focused on the homework, you failed to notice how the brush of your shoulders made Sugawara’s body stiffen slightly. With your proximity, your scent easily wafted to his nose, and he could observe the closer details of your appearance. The hair tucked behind your ear exposed your cheekbone, looking soft to the touch. Your determined hues scanned the page, and he could visualize your thinking through your small, occasional self-nods. You looked cute and comfortable in the casual hoodie you wore, bringing him a strange, mixed sense of bashfulness and ease. His mind wandered, trying to envision how you would look if you wore any of his jackets, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of your sweet voice and scribbles against paper.

“It sounds great, Suga! I just made a note there on how you can fix it; otherwise, it should be okay,” you gave him a reassuring smile as you slid his work back to him. You, however, didn’t shift back to your original position and instead stayed seated mere inches from the boy. Not that he minded, but…

“O-Oh, alright, thanks!”

It made concentrating during the rest of the study session a little difficult.

Occasionally you did get up, helping mostly the first and second years with some of their English assignments. His eyes would secretly (but c’mon, everyone but Hinata and Kageyama could tell) follow your figure, admiring the way you looked as you interacted happily with the others and did whatever you could to assist them. Yet you always returned to the same spot, near Suga. Close enough that everyone else on the team took notice (if they haven’t already), relayed the information via mental telephone, and secretly agreed to depart a bit earlier than they had anticipated.

“Oh, you guys are leaving already?” you asked everyone as they were packing up their belongings.

They all nodded in response, offering up their reasons for leaving earlier than the original time you set, which ranged from, “My parents wanted me home for dinner” to “My sister’s wasted and locked out of the house, nobody’s home—” (u good der Saeko)

Standing at your doorway, you waved to your friends, sending them off with a “I’ll see you at school!” as they waved back and filed out of your home. Looking over to Suga, who was still standing beside you, you wondered, “Oh, you’re staying?”

“Oh, yeah! I was surprised to see everyone leave so soon, but I was planning to head home in another hour. B-But I can go now if you need me to..!” he answered a bit shakily, waving around his hands in small, bashful gestures.

You shook your head and you waved your hand dismissively. “It’s okay, you’re more than welcome to stay for however long you need to.”

Settled back in the common area, you both tried to resume your schoolwork, but to no avail. Groaning, you leaned back, using your arms to support you from behind. “I’m tired of workingggggg.”

He sighed in agreement, resting an elbow on the table and propping up his head in a closed fist. “Same. Do you want to do something else?”

“Hmm..” you pondered aloud. “Do you want to see my room?”

Shrugging and responding with a “why not?”, you both stood up, leaving the common area to go to your room. You opened the door and stepped inside, Suga closely trailing behind you.

“Welcome to my room. Make yourself cozy,” you insisted as you sat on your bed and pat the spot next to you. He took your offer, taking a seat beside you and looking around your bedroom in curiosity.

“Something about this place really seems like you, (y/n).”

You raised an eyebrow at his comment. “Is it the messy pile of clothes in that basket or the neat desk I cleaned up this morning?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose you could say those are part of it. I just meant there’s a lot to you that you should feel comfortable sharing with others. People are complex and there’s so many sides to a person we discover along the way. I remember how timid you were in our first weeks of knowing each other, and now you’re getting along great with everyone and work hard to improve everyday. You were able to overcome a stressful repeat of entering highschool, but this time in another country, and adapted just fine! Your kindness and determination is admirable.”

Twiddling with your fingers, you felt a sheepish grin form on your face. “Aha, you’re too kind, Suga. You know I couldn’t have made these friends or adjust so well without your help. I was too worried about talking to anyone until you came up to me, so… Thank you.”

You risked a glance towards the boy, finding his chocolate gaze already set on you. If none of your interactions in the past month had set your heart ablaze, then certainly this moment would take the cake. Sugawara’s eyes flickered downwards briefly in a moment of hesitance, then locked again onto yours with a hint of an undetectable emotion lurking behind those irises.  Neither of you could bring up any words to say. The only sounds present were the soft hums of your breathing and the low creak of your bed as you found yourselves shifting your weight in order to inch closer to one another.

His mind flooded with a cacophony of emotions, from crippling nervousness to an allure for risk-taking. He could barely come to terms with the current situation and what might happen. Maybe he was overthinking it. Surely being this close face-to-face with someone who you just happen to like doesn’t automatically mean they like you back and want to kiss you just as much. Perhaps you were just leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder; after all, you did seem tired from the events of today. Or, you were scooting close for a better look at his face so you could point out, “hey, you got a little something on your face.” Perhaps a crumb from the cracker he had earlier?

But when he took note of the way your eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes caressing the tops of your dusted cheeks, his doubts began to waver. Maybe this was the chance he’s been seeking out lately. Once Daichi deciphered Sugawara’s affections for you, eventually the whole team found out and began to silently root for him. Thankfully, despite their blatant attempts to help him out, you hadn’t noticed a thing. It made him wonder whether you were oblivious, or just didn’t like him, or both. However, in this moment, when it appeared as though maybe you returned his feelings, he felt he should—as Tanaka would say—shoot his shot.

A sudden knock on the door sent you both jumping 5 feet away from each other. Frazzled and wide-eyed, you choked out a weak, “H-Hello?” in response to the interruption. The door opened, revealing your parent/guardian, who peeked inside.

“Dinner’s ready. Would you like to stay and have it with us?” they were asking Suga.

Heart still racing from the fear that gripped it, he blinked in surprise. He piped out a polite no thank you, reasoning that he didn’t want to intrude.

“Nonsense, we’re happy to have you. Come soon.”

They closed the door and left, leaving you two in an awkward silence that was soon interrupted by the sound of your cough. “We should, uh, get going…”

Standing up, you reached for the door with Suga in tow. The tension in the air remained between the two of you throughout dinner. Nevertheless, Sugawara was able to leave a good impression on your family by being a good conversationalist, even earning a few laughs from your parent/guardian. It made your heart swell at how natural it was for him to be able to get along with others.

After dinner ended and he packed his things, you stepped outside with him to send him off, closing the door behind you. He was about to salute you with a “thanks for having me over” when you gave him a peck on the cheek so sudden that he didn’t have time to react before you were already making your way back into your house.

“Thanks for coming, Suga! I’ll see you at school! Let me know when you get home!” you exclaimed animatedly, shutting the door quickly to hide your embarrassment from your sudden actions. You leaned your back against it, instantly regretting what you did with tightly shut eyes. ‘Oh gawd how am I gonna face him at school tomorrow dhefjkg.’

But on the other side of the door, Suga stood dumbfounded, hovering a hand over the area your lips had touch. Though highly embarrassed, he felt a rush of elation pass over him like a humongous wave that never stopped crashing against the shores.

He was starting to really think it was a good idea to introduce himself to the cute new girl in class. Nice one, Suga.

[rosemarypasta]

monday afternoons ♡ 10 (end)

➤  pairing : oikawa tooru x female reader (karasuno manager)

➤  chapter warnings : slowburn (?). teensy tiny manga spoiler that you probably won’t even notice

➤  summary : You just recently joined the Karasuno boy’s volleyball team as their first year manager. As you grow closer to your teammates, you also unexpectedly grow closer to one of their biggest rivals, Oikawa Tooru

➤ chapter word count: 1708

♡ masterpost ♡

-ˏˋ chapter tenˊˎ-

FRIDAY

5:48 PM

“All right everyone! Let’s start cleaning up!” Daichi announced after Coach Ukai finished wrapping up the day’s training session. You got up from the floor and did as you were told, grabbing the first crate of water bottles so you can clean them in the tap outside of the gym.

“Today is more peaceful than usual huh, Y/N-san?” Yamaguchi smiled, bending down to pick up the second crate of bottles, “Of course Noya-san and Tanaka-san was loud as ever but Hinata and Kageyama’s noisiness is just on a whole ‘nother level right?” He chuckled at his absent teammates. “Yeah.” You smiled back as you thought of the two first years who got held back by their teacher because they flopped in their test big time. Both you and Yamaguchi would kill to see the duo’s faces when Ono sensei told them that they would have to skip club activities and retake the test.

“But since Kageyama got held back, that would mean you would be going home alone again! Will you be okay? I’m sure Tsukki wouldn’t mind if you walked home with us!” He furrowed his brows, looking at you with concern. “I’ll be fine! Nothing happened yesterday anyway.” You lied through your teeth, recalling your memories of the third year Seijoh student waiting for you in front of the school gates. Though, you weren’t in any imminent danger so you comforted yourself with that thought as you lied to your friend.

The clean up session went by smoothly as usual and you said your goodbyes to your teammates to welcome the weekend. Yamaguchi was still concerned over you as you waved at him but thankfully Tsukishima dragged him off before he could ask you to walk home with him again.

The walk home was relaxingly quiet, only filled with the sound of your own footsteps and muffled car sounds from a distant street. You’ve been distracted the whole day as your brain kept replaying your encounter with Iwaizumi. And as if the world hasn't given you enough of your daily dose of Seijoh students, they decided to throw in another one different from last time.

Your feet stopped moving as the image of a brunette boy standing with his face down in front of your house. You couldn’t see his face and his hair was slightly different from usual but you knew who he was.

“What the fuck.” was all you managed to say as you stand steps away from the uninvited moping boy. As soon as the words left your mouth, the boy whipped his head up towards you, showing his dark circles even from afar.

“Y/N! I-” He started, about to run towards you but stopped last second as he saw your bewildered expressions on your face. You hated how seeing his hurt expression made you subconsciously feel bad for him. You weren’t supposed to feel any pity for him whatsoever but staying angry felt like the hardest thing to do in the moment.

Oikawa looked up towards you once again, his eyes slightly red, hesitating before speaking again. “Please let me explain. I know I’m supposed to do this ages ago but p-please.” His voice breaking towards the end.

You bit your lip as you let him continue.

“I was an idiot. I know I was. I took out my childish and petty anger towards Kageyama onto you because I’m such a selfish asshole.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t know how much you know but considering how you ghosted me, I guess you know the main idea. Yes, I did want to mess with you and pretend to be interested in you.”

Your breath hitched as all the thoughts in your mind were true. He had always been faking it and never found you remotely attractive. He only saw you as a toy to play with. You didn’t know who to be more mad at. Him or you for getting ahead of yourself and thinking you even had a chance with Oikawa.

“And I never meant to fall in love with you,” His voice was soft but was still plenty loud enough for you to hear.

“But I did.”

You cocked your head forward in shock. You stared at the boy in front of you without blinking, “I-I’m sorry, what?”

“I love you, Y/N.” His voice broke again. “I know what I’m saying is so unfair and so ridiculously insensitive but I’m telling the truth. I do love you.”

He took a deep breath as he fiddled with his fingers. His breath was shaky and his shoulders sagged low. “I only meant to go out with you a couple of times but time flies by so fast and I unconsciously kept asking you out because I wanted to see you so much. Being with you was so unexpectedly fun and you were just amazing to spend time with. I loved being with  you so much that every Monday afternoon I would sprint my way to the station so I could see you quicker. I would fall on my way sometimes but I didn’t care. I just wanted to see you.”

You were speechless. All you could do was stare at him with your mouth hanging wide open. You were feeling an array of emotions ranging from confusion and glee.

“So please, Y/N.” He cried out softly as he started to slowly walk over to you, “let me make it up to you.”

“Give me a chance to make it up to you.” He grasped your idle hands and brought it up to his face where you felt his hot cheeks and tears against your bare hands.

MONDAY 3:10 PM

“Eh? Brazil? That’s so far away!” Yamaguchi stared at the red haired boy with bewildered eyes.

“Yep! I guess I won’t be attending get-togethers in the future.” Hinata smiled.

Two and a half years have passed. The third years and second years have long graduated and left the club in the first year’s hands. You’ve gone through all highs and lows of high school with the other four boys.

Two and a half years ago, you wouldn’t think you could fall in love with a sport you can’t even play. No matter how hard the boys tried their best at coaching you, you still can’t manage to spike a ball without somehow hitting it out of bounds.

“You sure you don’t want to come with us instead and get ramen, Y/N?” Hinata pouted as the five of you were inching towards the school gates.

“I’m sorry guys, but I really have to pass.” You sighed though a soft smile was evident on your face. “And Hinata, don’t get too attached to me, a certain someone will get jealous.”

“Nah he wouldn’t get jealous, that’s ridicu-”

“I would tho.”

The four of you stopped in your tracks to turn towards the setter who evidently looked confused. “Wow, never thought the king would be the jealous type,” Tsukishima scoffed, “gross.”

“What! How could you get jealous over that! I’ve watched you walk Y/N home for three years now and I’ve never said anything!” The red head bickered, punching the setter playfully on the stomach.

“T-That’s because I’m a man!”

“Damn, Kageyama, did Nishinoya-san teach you that?” Yamaguchi laughed at the odd character the raven haired setter had adopted last second.

“Sorry guys, I gotta run.” You loved spending time with your teammates especially how they get to be their rowdy selves since they finally got away from their juniors after retiring from the club but you forced yourself to pull away just for the day as you caught a glimpse of the familiar man waving at you from outside of school grounds.

“Hmph, fine.” Hinata pouted, crossing his arms dramatically.

“Later.”

“See you tomorrow Y/N!”

“Bye.”

You waved back to all of them before turning at your heel to run towards the man up front. “I’m sorry, Hinata forgot his wallet so we had to wait for him.” You explained out of breath.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Oikawa hummed as he patted your head. “Should we go?” He smiled at you, opening the passenger seat of his door to which you smiled back and nodded at.

The rest of the boys watched as the car they were so used to seeing picking you up grew smaller and smaller in the horizon. Yamaguchi’s eyes wandered over to his blonde friend who looked more fixated at the car than the other two were.

“Tsukki? You okay?” The retired captain said softly over the background of the bickering middle blocker and setter.

“I’m fine.” Tsukishima sighed, a forced smile crept up his face.

6:49 PM

“Hey.” You called out.

“Hm?” Oikawa’s muffled voice replied.

“Remember how we first met?” You said absentmindedly as you scrolled through your phone. OIkawa’s head finally left the crook of your neck and his brilliant brown eyes met yours.

“I wish I could. I was such an idiot.” He muttered before diving under the covers of his bed. You sighed in satisfaction. You loved bringing that topic up because you knew how much he hated it and how he acts all flustered about it. It was truly one of the rare ways to see the different and vulnerable side of Oikawa you rarely get to see.

“But you’re my idiot.” You hummed, diving under the covers as well before showering his head with kisses.

“You’re cruel.” He pouted. Though it was dark under the covers, his perfectly soft lips still glistened. You leaned in to give him a soft peck, “But you love me”

Oikawa’s fingers traced your jawline before cupping your cheeks, bringing them closer towards him before giving you a long sweet kiss. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy as soon as your lips got in contact with his again. No matter how many times you’ve done it before, the butterflies never seem to disappear.

“I love you, Y/N.” He messily slurred out as he pulled out from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his.

“I love you too, Tooru.” You giggled before going in for another kiss on another fine Monday afternoon.

previous:  -ˏˋ chapter nine ˊˎ-

A/N:

Gah! It’s finally done! My first ever Haikyuu fic is completed :’)

I started to write the plot three months ago and I never knew it would get any attention what so ever lmao. And honestly, I don’t know how my first fic would be a reader x oikawa one cause I truly hated Oikawa’s guts three months ago but I guess that hatred translated a bit to the plot. (I don’t hate him anymore uwu he’s baybe to me now)

I even impulsively added a lil kagehina for some spice HAHAHA and um someone get a love interest for Tsukki ASAP!!!

But thank you so much for reading this! I never thought I would get so much support on this and I plan on making even more fics!

I’m sorry if there was more drama and minimal fluff with Oikawa :’) And sorry if you thought the ending was rushed but I tried my best and I’ll try even harder next time!

Though I plan on making more x reader content, I’ll probably release more ship ff (mainly tsukkiyama, kuroken & bokuaka maybe?) Since that’s what im more good at.

Thank you everyone and I hope to see you in my next project!

(also i haven’t proof read this cuz i’m sleep deprived rn and i have school tomorrow so forgive me for any mistakes)

tag list (let me know if you want to stay on my normal tag list):

@hey-there-demonss​​ @bumbledunce​​ @teasbees-knees​​ @angrylittlezizi​ @hvneymun​ @yeetabish​ @fandomlover-universe​ @air-wreckaa​ @siriiel​

[ryik-the-writer]

THE AUDACIOUS STORYBROOKE MIRROR ADVICE COLUMNIST (WEDNESDAY PAPER EDITION) In which Lacey French is a smutty advice columnist for the Storybrooke Mirror.

Ch. 3: Lacey proposes a team-up and bantering ensures

A03

Gold tried to bury his guilt as he paced around his home, desperate to get his conversation with Lacey French out of his mind.

He shouldn’t have said what he said. He hadn’t meant what he said. But that hardly mattered; he’d realized that the second he saw the hurt on Lacey’s face.

That was hardly the way to act around someone he’d been in love with for years.

But he was a coward, he knew this in his bones. The word had been thrown at him for decades, by his abusive parents, his fellow soldiers during his day in the service, even his ex-wife.

It was odd, the way a word follows one around like bad gum on ones shoe. It was even stranger how true it became after a while.

“What are we going to do about this?”

He should have told her there and then what they could do about it. He could have let her into his house, offered her a cup of tea and explained the email he sent her in a drunken daze, as well as the feelings behind it.

But instead he’d snarled his teeth and turned her away, as he seemed to do everyone.

Few could phase through the icy wall he surrounded himself with. Jefferson Hatter, a local tailor, Gold’s occasional business partner and certified nutter, would walk through glass if provoked, and would climb that wall to get to Gold when he felt like it, namely his liquor cabinet, but kept his distance just the same.

Then there was David Nolan, Storybrooke’s “nice guy” who tried to be friends with every single person in town. However a kind word or a hello when their paths crossed in town was as far as he would go, as he knew the consequences of getting too close to the town monster.

There were a few others, tenants who had polished records of getting their rent in on time, and thus were civil, abet a bit cold.

Truth was, Gold didn’t know how to let people in. What could he do with other people, let alone a beautiful creature like Lacey French?

Pushing her away was the logical thing to do, he decided as he began straightening up his living room. He even nodded to the idea.

She’d forget about him, find some striking fellow who deserved her, and he could go back to admiring her afar, after he completely disconnected his email, that is.

It was the perfect decision, he thought, and would set off a lifetime of silence, but it would be worth it to spare Lacey from his sting.

He thought the decision final until there was another, very familiar knock on the door, and a new course of fate was struck.

He was shocked to find Lacey back at his door, not even half an hour after he sent her on her way.

“Miss—“

“Zip it,” Lacey ordered, and Gold found his tongue heavy as lead.

Lacey examined him again, noting how she met his eyes in her heels. The extra height gave her a boost of confidence. She feared Gold as much as she feared Keith Nottingham or Sydney Glass, but Gold had a bit more leverage on her livelihood. Not to mention, with all that he had revealed with the email, there was a softness there she didn’t want to harm.

She’d come for his help, after all, not further put a strain between them.

She’d even let go of his earlier comment, only if he helped her, that is.

“Look,” she began. “Let’s start over from earlier. Thanks for the email, I thought it was cute, blah blah blah.”

Gold gripped his cane. “Your point?”

“It’s…the kind of material I need.” Lacey admitted, feeling woefully embarrassed to admit her own lack of skill. “And I was wondering if, possibly, you could do it again.”

“Do…what again?”

“Write another email, one’s that sensational but clean, and give or take 100 words.”

Gold stared at her, honestly unable to grasp her concept of thought.

“Are you asking me to write for the paper?” he inquired, the question coming out as a cruel scoff.

“No,” she shot back. “Not exactly…” she huffed, hating him. “The truth is I can’t write fluff, but I need a fluff piece for Wednesday’s paper … and you seemed to have that skill.”

A dark smirk tugged at his mouth.

Push her away.

“So your telling me you can’t do your job, Miss French,” he laughed, and his heart clenched as he watched her cheeks burn. “Your incompetence is not my problem.”

He started to close the door, believing the cruel words would be the end of the situation, but Lacey’s heeled shoe stopped him.

She leaned into him now, her blue eyes colder than the iceberg that struck the Titanic.

“Look, you pompous, little shit of a man,” she growled. “You can help me, or –“

“Or what?” Gold yelled. Instinctively, he fought off all threats, even if they came from the woman he currently had a burning fondness for. “You have no power over me, dearie. But me, I can have you homeless with the click of a pen, so I suggest you find someone else to pawn your duties onto.”

Lacey gulped. He’d revealed her one fear in all this. He could take so much from her, true. Losing her apartment could lead to her losing her job under the right circumstances, not to mention staying with someone with a space the same size as hers.

But somehow, Lacey didn’t see the frothing landlord intertwining with the love-struck admirer who sent her the email.

She try one more thing, and then she’d quit, she promised.

So she smirked and placed a hand on her hip, the same pose she took whenever she turned down Keith Nottingham or had to go head to head with Sydney.

“You’re not going to do shit,” she said, watching in glee as Gold’s expression changed to a flabbergasted one.

“I beg—“

“You have the hots for me, Gold,” she continued. “I have the proof on laptop. You’re not going to throw me on the street, not now.”

They were both quiet following Lacey’s observation, but the latter only hoped it was a correct one, and Gold didn’t call Sheriff Graham to cart her away.

Thankfully, Gold’s tight posture relaxed. She’d called his bluff, and now he was putty in her hands.

“Very well, Miss French.” He sighed in surrender. It would be her heart too, he decided.

“So, will you …” she trailed off, staring at him half-hopefully.

It wasn’t a good idea, he thought, but he had no leverage on her now. Nothing to scare her of push her away.

So he did the only thing he could do: he rolled his eyes and stepped aside.

Lacey shrieked in delight, practically dancing past him into his prison and sanctuary.

She gave a whistle at the first glance of his abode.

“Not bad,” she commented.

“I don’t need your input on my decorating, dearie,” he sighed. “Just…show me what you want.”

Lacey help back a dirty comment and instead inquired the whereabouts of his computer.

Gold slowly led her to his study, his face heating up when they went past his bedroom.

His computer was still on, humming away. Gold quickly closed his email, seeing Lacey smirk out of the corner of his eye, and stepped aside.

“Your turn,” he said.

Lacey popped her fingers and swirled his chair around, logging into her work email where dozens of inquiries on love and sex awaited.

She scrolled longingly past them to three of the tamer ones, including one she’d received an hour ago and hadn’t read yet. She opened them in new windows and eased back so Gold could see the screen.

“This is what I have to work with,” she sighed. “Help.”

Gold scoffed and leaned in as closely as he could without touching her. He swiped his glasses off the table, putting them on and glancing at each email, his attention getting particularly grabbed by the newest one.

“Dear Racy Lacey,” Gold read. “I recognize that this is hardly your expertise, but I’m not sure who else to turn to. I just found out a woman I once loved very much has passed away in my home country, and I’m torn whether to go to the funeral or not. Our separation was not a pleasant one, but there was still a great deal of love on my end. I know she must have built an entire life after us, and I don’t wish to infringe on her family’s grief, but I feel I must face this, less I regret it forever.

Please, Racy Lacey, what should I do?

Signed, Wooden-hearted Widower.

Gold and Lacey were quiet for a moment, the weight of the seriousness of the email hitting them both.

Lacey, of course, knew that the message was sent from Marco Booth, Storybrooke’s most notable carpenter and friendly face.

He was also known for being able to cook a mean Italian dinner and having a shaky relationship with his only son. He was an open book, or so Lacey thought. He must be comfortable revealing this part of his life to the public, even if only some of the town’s more investigative residents would catch on who the email originated from.

Still, why write her?

It was rare to not see him with Jimminy Cricket, the town shrink, a much more perfect candidate for this sort of subject.

“Maybe they’re too close.” She wondered allowed.

Gold looked down at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” Lacey waved him off. “What do you think, can you do something with this?”

Gold relaxed on the sofa near his desk, musing on the subject as Lacey swirled the chair to face him, anticipating his answer.

“Remind me again why you can’t do this yourself, your job at that?”

Lacey groaned. “Come on, Gold.”

He smirked lightly, taking her misery as a nice little slice of payback.

“Humor me, Miss French.”

“Gods,” Lacey cursed, leaning down so she could stare at the floor rather than his face (which was decently framed by his reading glasses, she dared added.)

“I’m not good with the fluffy stuff,” she relayed.

Gold frowned. “A man losing the love of his life hardly seems like “fluff,” as you say.”

“I mean the stuff outside of my expertise, romance and…”

“Sex,” Gold stated bluntly, pretending the very word itself didn’t affect him.

“Yep,” Lacey chuckled with a glance his way. “Giving people deep, meaningful advice on matters outside of that just doesn’t work for me. I don’t really know why but I don’t want people to get bad advice because of my…” she looked at him again, this time with a touch of malice. “Incompetence.”

Gold’s gaze waivered, ashamed for his earlier reaction.

“So, that’s why I need a bit of help, and no, I can’t go to one of my co-workers because it would look like I’m shrugging off my job.”

Gold nodded. Her motives were fairly innocent, and not too concerning. And to be fair, she could have done worse. Gold would admit that he did have quite the vocabulary, and could meet her requirements.

It was the emotional aspect of the job she was asking of him he feared he couldn’t handle.

Years of keeping so much emotion inside was dangerous. He was a boiler ready to blow, and she was the last person he wanted to see him in that state.

“So…” Lacey shrugged. “That’s my problem, Gold. What do you think?”

He thought, despite the risks, this was a golden opportunity, if you pardon the pun. He’d finally be able to spend time with her, truly get to know her, and test to see if these feelings of his were true or just a passing phase. Eventually, he would spare them both a good deal of grief.

He sighed. “Let’s form a rough draft and go from there.”

“Yes!” She yelped, spinning in his chair. “I owe you big!”

“We’ll see,” he replied, hiding his grin. “Now get serious.”

“Serious,” Lacey repeated, opening an email to herself to start typing.

“Back straight,” he ordered. “Legs uncrossed.”

“For Gods’ sake,” Lacey groaned.

“Focus,” Gold ordered, standing just behind her. “Now type after me. Dear Wooden-hearted Widower…”

“Dear Wooden-hearted Widower,” Lacey repeated in a childish tone.

Gold glared at her for a moment before continuing.

“It’s my barely expert advice that you stick to familiar lands and not take the trip—“

“First off, up yours,” Lacey hissed. “Secondly, what the hell do you mean he shouldn’t take the trip?”

Gold rolled his eyes. She was too young to understand the true pain of lost love, and too inexperienced to realize when it was appropriate to take a step back.

“Would you have him scratch at scars or heal on his own?”

“I’d have him face his demons and make peace!” Lacey fought back. “Running away from ones problem doesn’t do anyone a damn bit of good!”

“You asked for my help and I’m giving it to you. Write what I say or do it yourself.”

Lacey groaned, feeling cornered, and Lacey French snarled and bit and clawed when she was in a jam.

But this was a strategic battle, one she’d end up losing in some capacity, but she was striving to win gracefully no matter what.

“How about we meet in the middle?”

“What middle do we share?” Gold asked.

“We tell him to go and...stay guarded, I guess.”

Gold rubbed a hand over his face. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. Of course he and Lacey had completely different mindsets. She had a shred of humility, his had burned to a crisp years ago.

“If he goes to her funeral, he’ll only be hurt,” Gold concluded, leaning against his chair as he willed away thoughts that needed to remain buried.

“After all, there’s no greater pain than regret.”

Lacey watched him carefully, seeing that softer side that most of the town was certain didn’t exist.

Maybe this was too much for him. For all she knew he had some deep, dark past that was threatening to overtake the present.

She wasn’t one to get circulated in someone else’s business or to gossip openly, but damn she’d love to peak into his mind, into his past.

However, she had a job to do. One of the first things she was taught about journalism-wise was to distant herself emotionally from the subject. It made the job a lot easier.

“He’d regret things a lot more if he didn’t go,” Lacey commented. “Maybe it’s better to rip the band aid off.”

Gold accepted this, but held onto his restraint.

“He needs to be careful.”

“Let’s go again,” Lacey said with a snap of her fingers. “This time let’s be a bit more positive.”

Gold let out a rude noise but relented.

“Dear Wooden blah blah blah,” Lacey read, pausing to let Gold jump in.

“Should you…” Gold began, changing his mind. “You should pursue this endeavor with caution, as the past has a way of taking over the present if you become too engulfed in it.”

Lacey matched his words, listening with interest to his advice.

“Don’t expect a warm reception or even a lukewarm resolution…”

“That’s a little harsh,” Lacey muttered.

“However, you should expect to leave in peace, and I indorse planning your trip with this in mind.”

Lacey finished typing and waited for him to continue, but Gold went quiet. When she looked at him, he had a contempt look on his face, considering their work finished.

Lacey hummed and turned back to the computer.

“Good luck to you have a safe trip back.”

“No,” Gold spat. “Don’t add such a treacly ending like that. It’s tacky.”

“It shows we give a damn.”

“It’s out of place.”

“Oh my gods!” Lacey whined, typing out her signature and then sending the email to Cruella while Gold protested behind her.

“Well that’s just lovely, and incredibly dowdy,”

“It’s fine,” Lacey scoffed. Damn he stressed too much.

Gold snarled, muttering something about incompetence and newspapers.

“Fine, are we done?”

Lacey spun in his chair, giving him the same look she would give Glass when she was getting scolded.

“Come on, this wasn’t so bad.”

“You’re right, it was downright terrible, but it’s over now. I’ll see you out.”

Lacey frowned. She’d go with dignity, but not until she spoke her mind.

“You have the funniest way of charming the chick you have the hots for.”

Gold slapped the top of his cane. “Would you stop saying that, it’s unbecoming.”

Lacey clucked her tongue. She had him now.

“What would you call it then?” she challenged.

“Miss French—“

“Lacey, and just humor me.”

Gold wished the floor would give way. It was a miracle he was able to think though Lacey’s column with her being within five feet of him. Now he had to bear his soul to her in his own study.

“I would call it an attraction,” he admitted, hoping she’d leave before he could be truly humiliated.

“So yeah, you have the hots for me.”

“I like to think it’s a bit more than that.”

Lacey smirked, her lip running over her lip. She’d had men flaunt over her before, but this somehow was more genuine, more real. To have those affections come from someone as stoic as Gold was truly interesting.

It was flattering, though she wasn’t sure how to feel in return. Probably best to stick to the business arrangement for now.

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a spot of fun in the meantime.

“How about a drink?” Lacey suggested.

Gold’s stomach flipped at the idea of alcohol. “It’s one in the afternoon.”

“So what, we need to celebrate,” she said, sauntering to him. “To our new relationship.”

Gold twitched, flustered at her closeness. “Relationship?”

“Well, after this I’m sure Glass will want me to do one of these once in a while, which means I’ll have to come back for your … assistance.”

Gold almost choked on his own gulp. So much for keeping her at distance.

“Gold,” she sighed, wrapping his free arm in hers and leading him downstairs. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

[benditlikepress]

texted you a picture where you looked pretty

@indestinatus @coffeedepablo @ncisjes

all day long I waited for my phone to ring

I counted every glow star on my ceiling

texted you a picture where you looked pretty

and wondered if you saved the ones you had of me…

[illuminati hotties – (you’re better) than ever]

The first time Tony sent Ziva a picture, she’d only been gone a week.

He hadn’t left the apartment for anything other than work since getting back - first because of jetlag, and then out of plain exhaustion. It didn’t help that both work and home were full of things that reminded him of her, of them, so much so that it was beginning to feel like a strange form of self-flagellation to stay cooped up there.

It was easy to convince himself he wasn’t thinking about her, talking himself into thinking about any and every other topic on the planet until he was lying in bed wide awake staring into space wondering where it had all gone wrong. It was then, and only then, that he allowed himself to obsess: to think over things he should’ve said, things he never said, or ways he could try and fix what he knew deep down was unfixable.

This particular night was worse than most – someone at work had stopped him in the elevator and asked him what was happening with Ziva, and if she was coming back – and he’d found himself seeking out reminders of her rather than pretending he wasn’t hyper-fixating on them. His phone was a great source for that: text messages and phone records and her name, over and over and over. His photos and videos, too, were full of her, and his tired fingers paused on one she’d never known he’d taken. The most recent one he’d taken of her - asleep, wrapped in sheets, the Israeli sun hitting the bare skin of her shoulders and back. Her hair was spread out over the pillow and her hand was spread over the vacated side of the bed, as though reaching out for him.

He couldn’t bring himself to scroll past it even when it caused a ball to form in his chest that made it hard to swallow.

It was 2am and he found himself opening a conversation thread and dropping the photograph into it, pressing send quickly.

“I really miss you”

He typed the words with nervous fingers and pressed send even quicker still before throwing his phone in a drawer and turning away from it.

He woke up three hours later and saw she hadn’t opened the message yet. He deleted it, and thanked the gods of modern technology that she never would.

———————–

The next time was a month later, and he thought he’d been doing better until he found a stack of old photographs piled at the back of his top desk drawer. They had been collected over the years and though some pre-dated her arrival in the States, she was a prominent feature in most of them.

Though they still hurt, he was finding himself increasingly able to appreciate them for what they were. He found one, near the bottom of the pile, that even had a smile threatening on his lips. A doctor-themed party from a lifetime ago that had to be up there with the more ridiculous ideas of his life.

The picture had been taken not long after Gibbs had left for Mexico and Tony had relented into Abby’s plans for a surprise party for Jimmy’s birthday, still keen to make sure that people didn’t stop seeing him as a friend instead of just a boss. It was him and Ziva, posing, with Jimmy’s drunkenly sleeping head face-down on the table inbetween them.

He remembered everything about that night: how her hand kept brushing his leg under the table, and every time he’d snapped his neck up to look at her but found her looking in a different direction. How they’d shared a cab home and he’d insisted on walking her to her door, in spite of her drunkenly listing a handful of ways she could kill any man who approached her with only the costume on her back. How she’d invited him upstairs and there was no pretence but he’d said no, trying to be diplomatic, though they’d only lasted another week of summer before that had all came tumbling down.

He opened a message again and snapped a photograph, the edge of his fingers visible holding it up to the camera.

“Remember this? Do you still have that picture of me piling stuff on top of him?”

He didn’t get a reply. Then again, he hadn’t really been expecting one.

He flipped the photograph over and placed it back on the pile.

———————–

The next time he sent her a photo, it had been over 9 months since he’d last seen her and she’d been on his mind all day.

It wasn’t unusual for him to get wrapped up in thoughts of her but it had been plaguing him in a way it hadn’t in a while – starting with a dream in the middle of the night that woke him up startled and coursing through his brain all morning. When it wasn’t better by night-time he’d gone for a drink with the team to take his mind off it, and when that hadn’t helped he’d found himself scrolling through old messages and photos and videos that he’d sworn he was going to delete (or at least put on a flash drive, out of sight out of mind).

When he still had that feeling that something was missing, that he was categorically in the wrong place right now, he got out of bed and walked into the living room in search of a cure.

He remembered, later, one photograph he’d never been able to take down. He lifted his head upwards to the top of his DVD shelves and grabbed for the card, bringing it down and sitting on the sofa with it in his hands.

A Paris street. Years ago now. She looked like a 50s movie star, frozen in time, and he could remember how enraptured he’d been as he’d approached her - watching her in her own world, flicking through postcards and wrapping her coat tighter around her.

Him capturing it in a photo had been what alerted her to his presence, but instead of asking him to delete it like he’d expected she’d simply rolled her eyes and told him with a smile that he was late.

He thought so fondly of that weekend even now. They’d both been overcompensating in the dust of everything that had happened, nervous and eager and hurting deep down, and Paris had come along at the perfect moment to show them both that the thing they’d been orbiting around for four years wasn’t lost. Could be stronger, even. And it was.

Before he could change his mind he went to grab his phone and snapped a photo of the image, opened the long-gone conversation thread and ignored his previously unanswered message.

“Weird day - you’ve been on my mind. Hope everything’s good. Open invitation: call if you need me.”

———————–

Almost two years down, he got a social media reminder of something he tried not to think about.

He didn’t have a photograph of the actual day Ziva became an American citizen. In spite of his promises he’d be there, he’d ended up in another country entirely as she swore her loyalty to his.

He’d felt sick even now that he’d missed her ceremony, knowing how much it had meant to her, even if she tried to play it down when he’d told her. He looked at the photograph that had popped up in his notifications, the two of them smiling with her certificate, and ran his hand over it. Her eyes were so bright and he could barely remember her looking so young.

He remembered how proud she’d been. Wondered if she still was, after how it had ended.

He found himself wondering, selfishly, if he still crossed her mind sometimes too.

“Happy anniversary Miss America”

Part of him was worried it would sound spiteful, but hoped she still knew him well enough to see the good meaning behind it. He pressed send and turned off his phone.

———————–

The first time he thought about sending a photo but didn’t, he was holed up in a small Paris apartment wringing his hands.

He’d known he wasn’t going to hear from her often – she’d took great pains to explain that, voice shaking, reminding him over and over that it was for his own safety. But Tali had been asking for her for days and Tony couldn’t stop looking at the photo they’d taken in Cairo, the one he swore he’d destroy soon, where Tali was curled up in Ziva’s lap and Ziva was looking down at her like she’d hung the moon and stars.

It was the same night, as if by magic, that his phone beeped. He scrambled around for it in the dark, heart in his mouth. A  withheld number flashed on screen.

“Checking in. Everything is OK. On my mind tonight and always.”

———————–

The first and last time Ziva sent Tony a photo, he hadn’t been able to sleep all night.

When Ziva had been away he’d been non-negotiable on work trips and conferences. Now she was back he’d considered it a miracle he’d managed to get 18 months out of the way before being offered a spot on a 3 day conference that was taking place in London. Two hours in it became clear that nothing being shared was particularly relevant to his role, and any number of other members of staff could’ve been sent in his place. He knew he had no more right to be at home than any of them, but it made being away that much harder.

It was 3:18am in London and he knew it was even later in Paris but he couldn’t help himself as he flicked his screen on.

“Still awake? x”

“You sound like a teenage boy.”

“Take that as a yes”

The photo she responded with was a simple one from her slightly pixelated front-facing camera on the phone she refused to upgrade. She was sat up in bed, hair tipped over one shoulder. Wearing one of his t-shirts.

“How is it possible you’ve got even more beautiful in my absence?”

“Hush.

We missed you today”

“Never leaving again. Can’t wait to be home.”

“Pizza and movie night. Your pick.”

“Marry me?”

“Maybe the gigantic block on my finger in that photo did not give it away, but unfortunately I am already getting married 3 months from now.”

“That’s too bad. Lucky guy.”

“Yes, he is.”

“(Just so you know, it’s a rock. Not block.)”

“Goodnight, Mr DiNozzo. X”

“Night Mrs DiNozzo”

[felicityfiction]

i listened to taylor swift and wanted to write a thing. woosang from ateez because their friendship is so precious!! this was written in like an hour. the grammar is bad and the tenses are alll over the place and theres nothing even resembling STRUCTURE but it’s 3am and i needed catharsis!

Wooyoung realises. Maybe a little bit too late.

the classic childhood best friends trope that i love because i think that the best kind of love develops slowly, and not all at once.

“The last time you saw me is still burned in the back of your mind”

Wooyoung glared at his phone, desperately wringing his hands together. pick up, pick up. fuck

the call went to voicemail. wooyoung dropped his face into his hands, pressing his palms into his eyes as hard as he could, breathing turning ragged. where are you where are you come back

he knew he had no right to demand anything at this point. this was his fault. but an eerily silent group chat sent chills down the back of his spine and left regret clawing at the back of his throat. i didn’t mean it.

he waited for a moment, then picked up his phone from the table. he scrolled down to his latest chat, rereading the messages that had already imprinted themselves onto the back of his eyelids, haunting him, taunting him.

me: god, san, please. just tell me where he is, if he’s alright.

san: it’s not my place to say anything. i can’t speak for him.

me: that’s bullshit. he’s avoiding me, not you. not all of you.

san: not the point

me: none of you are on my side.

san: how can we be? did you hear yourself last night, woo?

me: i get it i fucking get it. i was an asshole. i’m trying to make it right

san: i don’t know that you can.

the scene blazed across wooyoung’s memory, hot and painful. it was all clenched fists, parted lips and wide eyes full of-

of what, he didn’t even know. a mix of sadness, disappointment and regret.

the worst part was the lack of anger. his best friend had a temper shorter than anyone else he had ever met, but anger was easy. anger could be dispelled with time, breathing, and wooyoung’s self proclaimed irresistible charm.

wooyoung got scared when he saw emotions he didn’t recognise, not even after 10 years of friendship.

and because wooyoung was a coward, he pretended that he couldn’t see, and let his best friend walk out his front door to god knows where. that was a week ago. and in the span of that week, wooyoung spiralled. he was grasping at straws, trying to fix the situation.

nothing worked. his best friend had wiped himself off social media and gone radio silent on every messaging app. the number that he memorised like the back of his hand went straight to voicemail, every single time. the worst part was his house. it felt cold and barren, without the familiar voice trailing from the living room when wooyoung woke up.

wooyoung was missing something that he didn’t know he had.

—

“you gave me all your love and all i gave you was goodbye”

love.

wooyoung believed in love just as much as the next person. he was a clingy extrovert who thrived off attention. he had grown up with hugs and kisses from his mom, the occasional girlfriend, and hoards of his classmates in school that vied for his attention. jung wooyoung was the epitome of lovable.

jung wooyoung didn’t know how to love.

rather, he didn’t understand that love came in different forms. love could come from the most withdrawn, silent individual. you just needed to know where to look, beyond the physical affection and vocal admiration.

jung wooyoung couldn’t sense it.

not in the “tell me about your day” that always popped up when he ended dance practice at 8pm, exhausted and cranky but always ready to complain about every single thing that had ticked him off.

not in the magical cups of coffee that appeared on his school desk the day of exams, sometimes with a little post it note. “you got this”

not in the silent presence that was by his side watching him play video games with someone else. the presence that worked mutely in his kitchen, greeting wooyoung with a dinner that he never asked for, but was somehow always what he wanted. the presence that never uttered anything to ask for wooyoung’s attention, seemingly content with just being next to him.

jung wooyoung was a fool.

buried under his covers, he clamped his hands against his ears, pressing as hard as he could,as if he could drown out his own voice sounding in his mind.

are you out of your mind? he heard himself say, over and over again. this isn’t a good prank, man.

then silence. the silence that was always comfortable and reliable, suddenly turned suffocating and tense. it was as if a barrier had erected itself between him and the person he thought he knew like the back of his hand

again, those eyes. the eyes that conveyed everything his impassive face didn’t. shining with mirth when wooyoung lost a game, dripping with fondness when wooyoung danced on stage,blazing with irritation as he shoved wooyoung away from him if he was disturbing his studying.

blank, distant eyes. wooyoung felt his stomach drop, the same sensation that he felt

at that very moment, like he lost something very important that he couldn’t get back.

—

“so this is me swallowing my pride, standing in front of you saying i’m sorry for that night.”

wooyoung had had enough. all his friends wouldn’t give him a straight answer to a very simple where is he?

wooyoung was nothing if not stubborn. he was going to find him, and fix everything. he didn’t know how, but he was going to do it.

frankly, it was almost a miracle that they hadn’t seen each other in two weeks, not even by accident. it was like he was going out of his way to avoid the places in campus that he knew wooyoung was going to be at, as if he memorised wooyoung’s timetable and classes and oh

he memorised wooyoung’s timetable, classes and practices. wooyoung stilled, feet stopping beside an empty classroom as he stared blankly at the empty hallway in front of him. classes were starting, and wooyoung was supposed to be in his European History lecture, but he literally could not care less about world war 2 at this moment.

how had he never noticed?

he was always slouched against a locker when wooyoung ended a 6pm economics lecture, whining for food and sleep. always outside the dance practice room hidden in a far block on campus at 10pm on fridays and sundays, with a bottle of water and wooyoung’s favourite ice cream. he always knew when wooyoung’s exams were, and made it a point to appear after every paper, ready to take wooyoung out for chicken. as a celebration if he did well, as a consolation if wooyoung was ready to burst into tears.

always there,without fail. it was the perfect summary of their friendship for the past decade,really.

and wooyoung would be damned if he let that slip through his fingers.

walking with a flame of newfound determination, he wandered through the school until he arrived outside the science labs. as an Arts student, he was never here. perhaps because he was never the one waiting. never reciprocating.

but the large white doors of the biology labs seemed daunting to him, even as he came to a halt in front of one with a plaque reading “anatomy lab”.

anatomy practical, 5pm. block D, level 3.

that was what he found after searching up the timetable of the medical students in his year.

the clock ticked closer to 630pm, when the class would be released. wooyoung tried to use the remaining moments to compose himself. he wasn’t going to throw a tantrum, he was here to apologise. he couldn’t start with why the fuck have you not talked to me in two weeks you bastard.

he wasn’t the bastard. wooyoung was. he was prepared to start with hey, i’m sorry. can we please talk?

but then the doors swung open, and students in lab coats filed past him. some looked at him curiously, and some waved, asking about a party happening this weekend. wooyoung just nodded and smiled, chest tightening, body bracing, like he was ready to be slapped.

and a metaphorical slap had never hurt as much before.

black nike shoes screeched to a halt metres away from him. the same worn shoes that had a permanent place in the shoe rack in front of wooyoung’s door.

wooyoung was staring, and he forgot how to speak.

he couldn’t recognise the person with swollen eyes and messy hair standing in front of him. his best friend was always impeccably neat, something that wooyoung constantly teased him about.

now, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. maybe two weeks. he looked at wooyoung as if he was going to lunge forward and sock him in the stomach.he looked at wooyoung with fear.

his lips clamped shut, while wooyoung struggled to get out the words he practiced. “i-“

he ran. wooyoung could only watch as his best friend bolted past him, barely grazing his shoulder as he fled. it still felt like a slap to the face. wooyoung was rooted to the spot, his blood felt like lead, he couldn’t move-

“if you don’t go after him, i will personally destroy you.” seonghwa glared at him, taking the place of the boy that ran, but substantially closer to wooyoung. he poked a finger into wooyoung’s chest, sighing loudly.

“he refuses to leave his house except for class. he won’t talk to anyone. he won’t go for his drone flying club or whatever the fuck he participates in. he’s broken, wooyoung, and we can’t fix him.” only you can

“fix him. fix the both of you.”

—

“if we loved again, i swear i’d love you right.”

wooyoung stood outside apartment number 4B, and his heart ached at how familiar it was. he was always welcome, but now it felt as if it was an impenetrable fortress that would swallow him whole.

he had nothing. no food, which he always used to appease his best friend’s anger. because this wasn’t anger. no prepared acts of acting cute, because this wasn’t irritation. just his heart in his hands, ready to be bared and presented. perhaps as a gift, more likely as a sacrifice. it was a sacrifice he was willing to give up.

“i know you’re in there.”

nothing

“i didn’t come here to hurt you.”

quiet.

“please.”

all he could hear was the ringing in his ears.

wooyoung breathed in once, deep. “fine. it’s okay, i’ll talk from here. i’m just banking on the fact that you’ll hear me out. it doesn’t matter if you don’t respond.”

this was the hardest thing wooyoung had ever done.

“i’m sorry. i know that’s the most useless thing to say right now, but i have to. i’m sorry i acted that way after what you said. i was being a complete idiot, and a jerk. you know i am that way, but that doesn’t excuse it. i’m really, really sorry”

breath two

“i miss you. it’s honestly been hell, these two weeks. my apartment’s a mess. all i’ve been eating is instant food, and honestly i couldn’t give a shit about all the tests we have right now. it’s always silent in there. i can’t blame all the guys for ignoring me, i deserve it, but it’s just- it’s just hard. i got used to you always being there. and it’s like i can’t function when you’re not.”

breath three

“i know i’m being selfish. i’m starting to think that i’m inherently a bad person, because even now i’m still thinking about myself. seonghwa said you haven’t left your house, that you won’t do anything. i’m sorry. fuck, i really am. you shouldn’t do all that. you shouldn’t have to suffer, you didn’t do anything wrong. i’m the one that made the mistake. so please, come back. you don’t have to come back to me, but the guys. they’re worried. so am I, but i’m past the point of deserving anything from you.”

breath 4

“i couldn’t stop thinking about that night.” wooyoung dropped his gaze, even though the door remained resolutely shut

“i know you can’t either. fuck, i messed up. i didn’t mean any of that shit, i honestly don’t know why i said that. but i’ve been thinking about it. about you. i think about you a lot.”

here goes nothing

“you’re important to me. you’ve always been, since we were dumb kids fighting over a soccer ball in the school playground. and i think i just finally realised how, how much i started to rely on you. i need you. it’s like i can’t breathe without you, and i just realised because you were always there,and i didn’t know to miss you. fuck, i miss you. “

“i’m pathetic. i don’t know how to understand you like you understand me. i don’t know why you put up with me, i’d probably get tired of myself. but you do. and i-“

wooyoung struggled to get his bearings through the shaky breaths that come through his lips, eyes blurry. there’s so much he wants to say.

like how he finally understands the meaning behind every little action that he took for granted. how his eyes have finally opened to another way of communicating, of expressing care and concern.

i know. i know it’s your language, and i must have been fucking blind my whole life to miss it but please don’t stop talking to me i’m just starting to understand.

how he realises just how much his best friend means to him, right when he’s on the brink of losing him

“i get it now. you’ve always been too good for me. and i’m sorry it took this for me to see what was always in front of me”

wooyoung can be brave for once. wooyoung can be the one giving.

—

“and if the chain is on your door, i understand.”

three words. just three words.

“i love you.”

wooyoung shuts his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in a bid to stop the hot tears. the door is still shut, and the silence is threatening to overwhelm him.

“i don’t expect you to accept that. i know i hurt you. but i had to come and say it. maybe this is me being selfish again.”

one last breath.

“but i swear on everything we’ve ever promised over the past 10 years. i mean it. yeosang, if you can hear me, i love you. i should’ve said it back that night, i don’t know why i didn’t, because now i look back and i think i must have loved you from the start.”

wooyoung blinked rapidly, and tilts his head upright to start at the block of mahogany in front of him.

“if you’re out of your mind, then i am too.” a wry smile found its way onto his lips as his mind replays a decade of laughter and memories, bitterly juxtaposed against the crippling loneliness and fear he feels right now. he’s going to walk away, and his best friend isn’t going to chase him.

“i’m gonna go now. i’m sorry, yeo. i won’t blame you for not believing me.”

—

but apparently jung wooyoung still doesn’t understand kang yeosang.

kang yeosang has never been able to push wooyoung away. not when they were 10, and definitely not when they’re 20.

someone grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt and yanked him back harshly. wooyoung stumbled, and his heart flipped in his chest. before he can comprehend anything, he’s being pinned against the mahogany door, but on the other side.

wooyoung loves yeosang’s eyes, because they burn with an intensity that is incomparable to anything else. wooyoung is still crying.

“if there’s one thing i hate about myself, it’s that i don’t know how to not love you, jung wooyoung.”

wooyoung thinks that he finally, finally, comprehends everything as yeosang crushes their bodies together in a semblance of a hug. but it’s tinged with desperation, and years of unspoken words and hidden actions. it’s the physical representation of please don’t leave me.

jung wooyoung is a fool. but he’s starting to learn.

lesson number 1: he’s in love with kang yeosang.

[dawninlatin]

Queen of Peace - chapter 10

A Manorian High School AU

Words: 4150

AO3 Link

Masterlist

TW: Descriptions of violence and abuse

Summary: Manon Blackbeak is flawless, untouchable. From the outside at least. Her grandmother pushes her to achieve greatness, and she doesn’t let anyone get too close in fear of being hurt. How can anyone love her when not even her parents could?

Dorian Havilliard has always felt safe and confident around his friends. He might not have the greatest of families, but with Aelin and Chaol by his side, nothing can go wrong. That is until he tries keeping his greatest secret from them.

What will happen when Dorian and Manon gets to know one another? Can two lost souls find their way back together?

A/N: Hello!

First, I would like to say that I am very sorry for taking a long, but necessary break from this fic. Turns out my mental health doesn't like doing nothing for two months straight...Please accept my apology in form of this long-as-fuck chapter:)

Secondly, this chapter is far from perfect, but I have to admit, I'm kinda proud of myself with this one, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it:)

Lastly, thank you so much to everyone who likes, shares, reblogs reads, comments etc. I couldn't have continued this fic without you<3

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I know that you’re hiding

I know there’s a part of you that I just cannot reach

You don’t have to let me in

-Florence + The Machine, Hiding

«Asterin, stop.»

Manon’s cousin turned at the angry tone, stopping on her way out the door. She was schooling her features into the usual look of ignorant bliss, and it annoyed Manon to no end. How the hell could she pretend to be so calm when the world was turned upside down three weeks ago?

«What?» Asterin replied, smiling as if everything was fine. Manon pretended not to see how the smile faltered slightly, how Asterin’s jaw visibly tightened, her breath quickening. A crack in the perfect foundation.

Crossing her arms, Manon leaned against the wall, giving her cousin a glare. «We need to talk,» Manon said, her voice demanding.

She couldn’t believe how three weeks had passed, and they still hadn’t talked about the fact that Asterin had been knocked up by her boyfriend. The morning after finding out the news, Manon had woken up to an empty house and a note from Asterin saying she was at Hunter’s. The following three weeks Asterin had managed to never stay in the same room as Manon for long enough to have a proper conversation. It was infuriating.

«Talk about what?» Astrerin replied, a sickening look of confusion on her face.

«You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.»

«That’s not your problem to worry about.» Asterin was about to pick up her bag and head out the door once more, but Manon managed to slam it shut in time, blocking her cousin’s path.

«It became my problem the second you asked me to hide it from our grandmother,» Manon hissed at her. «You can’t just come into my room in the middle of the night, crying, and tell me that you’re pregnant, for then to pretend nothing happened!»

Asterin still faced the door, avoiding Manon’s eyes. «I am dealing with it,» she whispered, finally turning around.

Manon’s anger faded a little at the look of utter defeat on her cousin’s face. Her whole body sagged against the closed door, silver lining her eyes.

«Do you-» Manon hesitated, letting out a long sigh, «Do you need me to go with you? To the appointment?»

«What appointment?» The confusion on Asterin’s face was real this time.

«The abortion?»

Manon might as well have slapped her cousin by the way her head shot up, eyes narrowed, mouth formed into a tight line, hands balled into fists.

«You’re not keeping it, are you? Are you insane?!» Manon yelled. She couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation.

«That’s none of your business,» Asterin said, voice cold. And the way she was staring down Manon…she had never felt so small.

«You’re seventeen!» Manon was certain her cousin had actually lost her mind. She couldn’t be serious about this. A baby…they were still, technically, children themselves. And if their grandmother found out, when their grandmother found out…

Shaking her head, Asterin said, «So? And for the millionth time, this isn’t your problem. I can-»

«It is my problem when you expect me to lie to our grandmother every day! It is my problem when I have to explain why you’re hurling your guts up every morning, or why you’re never around anymore! Do you want me to keep lying when your belly gets all round? Or when you have an actual, living baby to take care of?»

Manon was screaming now, but she didn’t care.

«You’re not gonna tell her, are you?» Asterin looked scared, and Manon could see that she was shaking a little. Manon was shaking too, but not with fear.

«I-» Manon began, groaning in frustration. «I just don’t know what you think is gonna happen? You’ll just have a baby at seventeen and then you and Hunter and your baby will be a happy little family? That’s not how the world works.»

Asterin was tapping her foot against the floor, clearly pissed. «My mom was only seventeen when she had me.»

«And you see how well that went…How long has it been since she called you, Asterin?»

The words slipped from her mouth before she had time to think. It was a low blow, and Manon knew it. Unlike Manon, Asterin actually knew her mother, had lived with her for eight years, until the woman one day just dropped Asterin off at her grandmother’s house. In the beginning, she often called, even visited, but Manon had no idea when Asterin had last heard from her mother. It wasn’t something they talked about.

Her cousin’s eyes were focused on the floor, and when she finally looked up, her expression cold and empty, it sent a chill down Manon’s spine.

«I’m gonna go now, before I say something I’ll regret.» Asterin’s voice was devoid of any emotion.

«And where are you going?» Manon breathed.

«To be with my boyfriend, who actually cares about how I feel.»

Manon tried calling after her, but Asterin was out the door in a heartbeat, nearly slamming it in Manon’s face.

They couldn’t keep going like this. It was driving her crazy, the hiding, the lying, the tiptoeing. All of it, just to postpone the inevitable.

Because their grandmother was bound to find out at some point, and when she did, all hell would break loose. Manon could feel it, the wave of impending doom, coming closer and closer.

What was Asterin thinking? She was ruining her life. Everything their grandmother had done for them, to make sure they got into college, to make sure they didn’t end up like their own mothers - one of them dead and the other doing god knows what - and Asterin was throwing it all away.

Letting out another groan of frustration, Manon slammed her fists against the wall, head following suit. How could she? How could Asterin put them in this situation?

All the stress and guilt and worrying was eating her alive. She’d stopped sleeping at night, couldn’t focus at dance practice anymore, could barely keep up with her classes.

She had also began avoiding Dorian. Had outright ghosted him from the moment Asterin crawled into her bed, crying.

Thinking about it, she had been acting a lot like Asterin, with the way she refused to talk to him, never staying in the same room as Dorian for long enough to have a proper conversation.

It had been a mistake, all of it. The texting, the hanging out, the fucking playlist!

He’d stopped texting her about a week ago. Picking up her phone, Manon began scrolling through the thread.

Manon: Here’s the playlist. It’s best enjoyed if you listen to it in the right order.

Dorian: Sorry for not replying til now but I heard through the entire thing and fine you were right I hadn’t heard any of it before and yes you do have fantastic taste in music pls send me more!!!!!

Dorian: Are u awake?

Dorian: I listened to your playlist again…Damn you have good taste in music;)

Dorian: You left the classroom so quick today I didn’t have the time to talk to you, wanna get lunch?

Dorian: I really liked that playlist….

Dorian: Can we talk? Whenever you’re available…

Dorian: Have I done something wrong?

Dorian: Pls just answer me…

Dorian: I’m gonna stop texting you now, but I’m here if you ever wanna talk about what the fuck is going on…

Manon felt awful for avoiding him like this, not even giving him an explanation, but her life was a complete mess, and it was better to end things before Dorian realized it too. It would hurt less that way.

But Manon thought about him often. Missed him, even. She tried not to think about what it might mean.

Footsteps sounded outside, and thinking it was Asterin, Manon whirled around to confront her cousin once more, only to be met by the stern eyes of her grandmother.

The surprise must have been written on Manon’s face, because the woman in front of her said, «Expecting someone else?»

«No, I was just surprised. I thought you were coming home tomorrow,» Manon said, quickly shaking her head.

Her grandmother looked her over, always searching, assessing, judging. «And how have things been going while I was away?»

Plastering a reassuring smile on her face, Manon replied, «Good. The usual. I got an A on that history test I told you about.»

«Hm,» was her grandmothers only response, Manon’s smile faltering. «And the dancing?»

Manon swallowed, looking at her feet. «Getting there.»

«That is not good enough, and you know it, Manon.» She still didn’t look at her grandmother.

«I know, I’ll do better, I promise. It’s just…school has been very stressful lately.»

«That is not an acceptable excuse.»

«Yes, grandmother. I’ll do better.» Her heart was racing, palms sweaty.

«LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!» Flinching, Manon lifted her head, focusing her eyes on the wall beside her grandmother, unable to meet the furious stare.

The woman stormed over to where Manon was standing, grabbing her chin so hard Manon was sure it would bruise. Manon finally willed her eyes to meet those of her grandmother.

«Pathetic, utterly pathetic,» her grandmother said, voice low. She clicked her tongue, and let go of Manon.

«I will go into my office now, and when I come back out, you better be out of sight.»

And with that, she was gone, her office door slamming shut.

Bringing her arms around herself to stop the shaking, Manon couldn’t help the sigh of relief escaping her lips.

At least she hadn’t asked about Asterin.

-

Standing in front of Aelin’s house, Dorian had no idea how he’d actually gotten there. All he knew, was that he couldn’t take more of his parents’ fighting, that he had to get out, had to rant about it to someone.

The past three weeks had been stressful, to say the least. His parents were fighting more than ever and the load of homework, tests and assignments they were given at school seemed to never end.

Then there was Manon…Out of the blue, she’d stopped talking to him, stopped responding to his texts, making sure they never stayed in the same room for long.

He had tried catching up with her after class, had tried approaching her in the hallway, but he’d been unsuccessful. At least until today.

«Can we talk?»

Manon startled, turning around to find Dorian leaning against the lockers.

«I’m late for class,» she mumbled, eyes on the floor.

«Bullshit,» Dorian said, crossing his arms. «Class starts in 15 minutes.»

«I can’t-» Manon began, but she never finished, instead turning around once more to leave him.

Fuck, Dorian thought, chasing her through the hallway like some stalker.

«Manon! Wait!» he called after her, trying to keep up with her fast pace. She finally stopped right before the door to their classroom, tapping her foot impatiently.

«Can we just talk? Please.» She still didn’t look at him.

Dorian sighed, trying to meet her gaze. «Did I do something wrong?»

«No,» she whispered, the word barely audible. Manon looked up, but her eyes still didn’t meet his.

She looked tired, dark circles framing those golden eyes. And they weren’t their usual, glowing color today, more like a dulled version of it.

Unease settled deep in Dorian’s stomach. Carefully, he asked, «Did something happen?»

«What makes you think that?» she asked hurriedly, her tone angry. Her eyes finally met his, shooting him a deadly glare.

Before Dorian had the chance to explain, Manon said, «I don’t have time to play friends with you, which I told you, so please stop bothering me, and leave me the fuck alone!»

Dorian couldn’t move, could only stare as she turned around and walked away.

He had known for a while what he felt for her. Had known he wanted to be more than just friends. Had hoped they could be more than friends.

But Dorian just stood there, leaning against the wall, and watched that hope disappear into the crowd along with a white ponytail.

That conversation was maybe the biggest reason why he was now knocking on Aelin’s door. Dorian desperately needed advice, the kind only Aelin could give.

«Dorian! What are you doing here?»

Lost in his brooding, Dorian hadn’t noticed Aelin opening the door. She made her way over to him, pulling him into a tight hug.

Drawing apart, Dorian saw that she was wearing her boots and jacket. «You’re on your way out, aren’t you?»

Aelin shook her head, her eyes worried as she took in his somber state. «I was gonna meet Rowan, but I think you need me more right now.»

Dorian was about to protest, but Aelin beat him to it. «He’ll understand.»

With that, he followed her inside, escaping the chilly autumn wind. There was no point in arguing with his friend, she was the most stubborn person he knew.

Dragging him into the kitchen, Aelin asked, «Is it an ‘eat ice cream and cry’ kind of crisis you’re having?»

«I think so,» he said, but Aelin was already digging through the freezer, not bothering to wait for an answer.

«Dorian! Haven’t seen you in a while,» Evalin Ashryver Galathynius said as she made her way into the kitchen, cheery as ever.

«Weren’t you gonna see Rowan?» Aelin’s mom asked her daughter while pouring herself a glass of wine.

«Change of plans,» Aelin shrugged.

«Good. I missed having Dorian around.» As she said that, she squeezed his shoulder, the gesture so motherly Dorian had to try very hard not to cry.

He had always been jealous of how affectionate Aelin’s parents were, so unlike his own.

«Is school busy these days?» Aelin gave him a warning glare, as if to say, «Don’t answer that! She’ll never stop talking!»

Dorian looked Aelin straight in the eye as he smirked and said, «Very.»

Evelin leaned against the counter, sipping her drink. «Ugh, you kids have so much pressure these days.» Aelin rolled her eyes.

«I mean it, when I was in high school-,»

«Here she goes…» Aelin said, low enough for only Dorian to hear.

«I can’t remember us ever sitting up half the night with homework. We got to be wild teenagers, you know, your dad and I-»

«Okay, we don’t wanna hear about you and dad, bye mom!» Aelin said as she bolted out of the room, grabbing Dorian’s hand and pulling him with her.

«Wait!» Evalin called after them. The pair turned to see her holding the bottle of wine.

«If you promise to not tell your father, you can have what’s left of this.» Aelin’s mother winked at the wicked grin appearing on her daughter’s face.

Aelin snatched the bottle, yelling «THANKS MOM YOU’RE THE BEST!» while making her way towards her room. Dorian followed suit, shutting the door.

«So, spill,» Aelin said, flinging herself down on the bed.

«I don’t know, it’s just been a lot, lately,» Dorian sighed, not knowing where to even begin.

«Your parents fighting again?»

That was one of the things he loved the most about Aelin. She always seemed to know what he was thinking, voicing the difficult words so he didn’t have to do it himself.

He let his head fall into his hands, groaning. «I know it’s awful, but sometimes I wish they would just get divorced.»

Aelin gave him a grim smile, passing him the wine bottle. Dorian took a sip, grimacing at the bitter taste.

Searching him with her gaze, Aelin said quietly, «But that’s not the only thing on your mind, is it?» Damn her, and her ability to see right through him.

Dorian took a deep breath, before saying, «I made a new friend…»

«A friend, huh?» Aelin gave him a knowing smile, and Dorian could feel his cheeks turning pink.

«Yes, a friend,» he said, punctuating the last word. «We’ve been hanging out a lot, and for a while it was all great, but then she suddenly stopped talking to me and I don’t know why.»

Hard as it was, it felt good to let it all out.

«Wait, you said she? Is it someone I know,» Aelin asked, raising an eyebrow. Dorian tried handing her the wine, but she shook her head, giving him a look that said, You need it more than I do.

Dorian thought about it for a long second, debating whether he should tell Aelin the truth or not. He recalled her words from earlier, «I had PE with her last year, and I swear to god, she has the emotional range of a teaspoon.»

Remembering that comment, he suddenly felt a wave of anger rush through him. Aelin had been wrong. In fact, he was certain Manon felt more than most people.

When he didn’t answer, Aelin pushed further, «Is it someone from school?»

«It’s Manon Blackbeak,» he mumbled, words barely audible.

But Aelin had heard him, because she jumped up, a look of utter disbelief on her face. «You’ve been hanging out with MANON BLACKBEAK!?!?»

«Do you have to yell?» Dorian whispered, but Aelin didn’t hear him.

«HOW?!» she yelled even louder, throwing her arms in the air.

Giving her a glare, Dorian said, «If you please calm down, I’ll tell you everything.»

And he did, from the very beginning. Dorian told her about the project, about the bantering, about the hanging out, about the playlist, all of it, and Aelin stayed unusually still the entire time.

When he was done, she looked up at him and said, «She does seem like the person to do just that. Letting you think you’re friends and then just cut you out.»

«But you don’t know her,» Dorian tried. Aelin merely gave him a pointed look that said, And you do?

Dorian shrugged. «She didn’t seem like herself earlier today. Something was bothering her…But who knows, maybe she simply learned how much of a socially awkward loser I actually am and decided I wasn’t worth it.»

He had no idea where that last part came from, but it felt good to say it out loud.

«Oh, Dorian! Don’t you ever think that,» Aelin told him, shaking her head. «You’re literally one of the most amazing people I know, and anyone who gets to have you as their friend is the luckiest person in the world.» She was all serious, stern, even.

Holding back the tears gathering in his eyes, Dorian pulled Aelin into a tight hug. «Thank you,» he whispered.

«No problem. And if something was bothering her, I’m sure she’ll come talk to you again when she’s ready.» Aelin bit her lip, hesitating. «Are you sure you’re just friends?»

«Yes,» Dorian exhaled. «But-»

«But you wish you were more.»

He could only nod.

They stayed silent for a moment, before Aelin spoke once more. «You know, I only have guy friends, so I’m pretty shit at giving advice on things like this.»

They were lying in opposite ends of the bed now, facing one another. «I think you did pretty good,» Dorian said to reassure her.

«I still need to get some girl friends I think. I tried ranting to Chaol the other day about the trials and tribulations of living with a bitchy uterus, and I have never seen someone leave a room so fast.»

Dorian brought out his signature smirk, saying, «You can talk to me about your period any day, Aelin.»

Aelin stuck out her tongue in response, and for the first time in many, many days, Dorian laughed.

-

Manon opened the text from Asterin once more, reading the words.

Won’t make it to practice today:/ Talk when you get home?<3

Looking at it, she couldn’t t help but feel a little bad for how she’d acted earlier. They could discuss this in a civilized manner, hopefully coming to a solution that didn’t involve their grandmother in any way.

Manon shivered at the memory of a hand grabbing her cheek. She’d been right, it had bruised, and she’d had to wake up half an hour earlier today to cover it up with makeup.

A knot formed in her stomach. How could she think such things of her grandmother, who only wanted the best for her?

Surrounded by darkness, she made her way towards the house, the air cold around her. Fall had finally settled over their small town.

As she made the final steps towards the door, she wondered why the lights were off. Surely Asterin would be up, waiting for her?

Unable to shake off the feeling of unease, Manon carefully opened the door. «Asterin?» she called into the darkness.

Her bag landed on the floor with a thud, the sound echoing through the room.

«Do you have something you want to tell me?»

Manon jumped at the sound of her grandmother, turning on the lights to reveal her sitting in the living room.

Her heart started racing at the quiet rage coming from the woman. Her brows were slightly furrowed, eyes glowing with fury, her mouth forming a tight line. Judging by how calm she was, Manon knew she was pissed.

«N-no, grandmother,» Manon stammered, looking at her feet.

Her grandmother stood up, slowly making her way towards Manon. «Don’t. Fucking. Lie.» she spat, her voice shaking with anger.

The slap hit her before she had time to react, her cheek stinging at the contact. Manon could feel blood slowly starting to trickle, but she didn’t dare move, didn’t so much as breathe.

«How long have you known?» Manon still didn’t move, only stared at the wall in front of her, completely paralyzed. She must have found out…Manon had to find Asterin, had to make sure she was okay…

«HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN?!»

Quickly shaking her head, Manon tried to think of a way to get her grandmother to calm down, tried to find the right words. «I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,» she breathed.

The sound of her grandmother’s cold laugh filled the empty house, followed by the sound of her palm against Manon’s other cheek. Her head jerked to the side, staying there.

Her grandmother leaned in close, and Manon closed her eyes as she felt a warm breath on her face. «I have done everything for the two of you,» she hissed, «and this is how you thank me?! Going behind my back, lying and deceiving. You should be glad you’re not on the street right now, like that whore of a cousin you have.» She made a face of disgust.

«I’m sorry,» Manon whispered, as her grandmother took a step back.

«Here is what’s going to happen,» the woman said. «From now on, if you make so much as a single mistake, I’ll kick you out. Your grades, your dancing, everything, will be perfect. Understand?»

Manon nodded, lowering her head.

«And that slut…She’s off the dance team, and if I hear you talk to her, so much as look at her, I’ll make you regret it. Am I being clear?»

Manon nodded again.

«AM I BEING CLEAR?!» Trying her best not to flinch at the raised voice, Manon managed to stammer, «Y-yes g-grandmother.»

Her grandmother clicked her tongue, shaking her head. «I truly thought you could be different from your mother, better. How wrong I was.»

The words stung almost as much as her cheeks.

«Now go to your room, I don’t think I can stomach looking at you anymore.»

«Yes grandmother,» she said obediently, hurrying down the hall.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Manon’s shaking body fell to the floor.

Around her, in her head, everywhere, it was going too fast, too much. The rush of blood, the way her lungs couldn’t get enough air no matter how hard she tried, the throbbing of her cheeks, the echoing of her grandmother’s disappointed words.

I truly thought you could be different from your mother, better. How wrong I was.

She had to be better, had to do better, had to-

Manon forced her breathing into an even rhythm. She had to stay focused from now on. No more distractions.

Manon didn’t notice how she’d stopped shaking, didn’t noticed the blood crusted on her cheek, didn’t notice the stillness of the world, didn’t notice how Abraxos placed his head in her lap, looking up at her with sad eyes.

She had no idea if minutes or hours or days had passed as she reached over to the headphones carelessly slung on the floor. Putting them on and pressing play, Manon drifted away to that distant place of hers, disappearing, dissolving. If only for a little while.

Lay me down

Let the only sound

Be the overflow

Pockets full of stone

-Florence + The Machine, What The Water Gave Me

[uwua3]

snap.

🍁📸 fushimi omi

summary: 5 times omi pretends it’s fine, and 1 time he snaps

warnings: anger issues, therapy, fights

notes: i wrote this based on a personal experience i’ve been recently had with a friend! although they are dear to me, i get tired easily from serious fighting and it brings back bad memories. so, this is just an one–shot that makes my frustration productive instead of taking it out on people!

omi is definitely one of the most patient people in mankai, but i feel like even he has limits and snaps every once in a while. this is just an example of being so mentally tired of fighting that you have no control over your anger anymore ♡

word count: 2,387

music: down in flames – aj mitchell

1.

Omi had been friends with you for as long as he could’ve remembered. You moved to Yosei University two years ago during his freshmen year, and Omi quickly became your tour guide after becoming the resident photographer of the academy, meaning he knew every possible spot on campus.

The first time Omi met you was in one of his classes, where he found his way to the classroom and had one goal in his mind: sit at the seat closest to the door. Omi never liked confrontation, but he’d rather have the professor call on him for sitting front row than have to rush past countless students to barely make it to his next class. His schedule was so packed to the point he needed a break, so when he turned and saw you sitting in his seat, Omi nearly groaned in frustration. It wasn’t a big deal, calm down, Omi.

Omi hated getting angry. The emotion of rage was so common, but he understood it was second to whatever feeling he felt first. Omi carefully took a few deep breaths just like his therapist instructed as he made his way to the open seat next to you, sitting down with a practiced smile to mask his slight annoyance. Omi didn’t like anger, he didn’t want to subject any of his frustrations onto you, especially a stranger who didn’t know him.

It was ten minutes into class before the professor put everyone in pairs to discuss the topic with the person next to you as an icebreaker.

You turned as Omi remembered his lessons: put your hand out, have a friendly smile, and lightly shake their hand. That’s how you make friends, after all! The moment you took his hand, everything changed as you two started talking immediately and got off–topic way too fast. You two clicked! Omi’s underlying tension with you disappeared as his brain recognized you as a new friend.

As he waved goodbye and hurried to his next class, Omi looked forward to seeing you every class.

2.

You’re included in Omi’s friend group after no time at all. You fit in well without any problems, you got along with everyone and Omi was so relieved because he quickly found out you were... problematic.

Omi didn’t realize this at first, but you had a temper. It was an issue he understood, but Omi has spent his entire life trying to not let it explode out of no where. You, really didn’t care. You would initiate arguments over things that really didn’t matter, like miniscule things even Omi didn’t hyper–fixate on. You’d raise your voice, convinced you were 100% right and there was no room to disagree.

Omi would just apologize even if he didn’t mean it and move on from the topic, subtly changing subjects because really, arguing exhausted him. Omi grew up with an all–male house, so the testosterone within his family was tiring, to say the least. Omi had to be the peacemaker, the balance between all the boys (puberty was hell). So, deterring fights with you weren’t exactly difficult, it was just taxing.

One time, you were criticizing Omi for a joke he made. He couldn’t even remember what it was, but you were adamant that he was completely wrong and you began explaining why. Omi glanced around the room, you two were having lunch in the courtyard with his friends. They didn’t seem to notice, used to your outbursts and talked amongst themselves. Wow, thanks guys.

“I’m sorry, you’re right.” Omi tried to calm you down, but you got even angrier (how was that possible?!). You got into it like it was a debate, so Omi just silently ate his food as he half–listened to you and tried to focus on passing students. You went on and on, but Omi couldn’t find it in himself to fight back. He didn’t like that, Omi didn’t like anger.

Omi breathed in and out three times. Omi counted to ten in his head. Omi didn’t look at you. Omi hated getting angry.

So, Omi just kept saying sorry.

(But, was it even his fault?)

3.

You guys moved to texting to stay in touch outside of Yosei University. At first, it was school updates on events that you two wanted to hang out together at. Then, it became like every 21st–century friendship: sending memes. You and Omi had a similar sense of humor, so it wasn’t hard to send him something that made him laugh out loud. He didn’t really follow that many modern online trends because he was often preoccupied with schoolwork, but he understood the appeal.

It wasn’t until he questioned some picture you sent that you blew up his phone with texts, yelling at him for not knowing what joke you were referring to. Omi blinked, he wasn’t used to phone rants. You didn’t even explain the joke, you just made fun of his inability to understand things. Omi almost felt insulted until he remembered this was common, you just liked doing this. You were just tempermental, that’s it.

You were like his brothers. Omi knew what to do, trying to push aside his feelings of hurt as he apologized. You took it this time, much to his relief.

Omi decided to research more stuff about your favorite references so he could stay updated. You were much better with him the next time around and Omi avoided asking questions because you’d only get mad. Omi didn’t want you to be angry, Omi hated getting angry.

Omi hated anger.

4.

Your anger moved to the classroom. The students around you guys liked talking, so you five often grouped up for projects and always talked about “a C is passing”. But sometimes, you liked starting fights even in public with mere acquaintances.

Omi wouldn’t say your stubbornness was a fault. Omi once asked about it in a moment of bravery, and you surprisingly told him you felt silenced most of your life, so you didn’t hesitate sharing what makes you uncomfortable and what hurts you. That was fair, Omi became more understanding of your stubborness and inability to compromise without emotions clouding your judgement. He’d just have to work on managing it.

Omi’s therapist didn’t seem to like you, oddly enough. When Omi shared that you liked fighting, they almost looked concerned. They asked if what you started made Omi angry, and Omi always shook his head and denied it. Yeah, sure sometimes you got him riled up, but he’s never seriously yelled at you in public. He knew how to control his anger management issues, he knew how to be calm again.

He was close though, that day. You were in class, picking on him for something he didn’t even know about. Omi just laughed, trying to play the whole thing off as a joke as you tried to get him mad.

You always hated how, placid, Omi was. He never fought back and didn’t have the drive your other friends did. It was confusing, he was clearly passionate about his hobbies, so it’s not like he lacked energy. He’s yelled before, but always out of exaggeration or acting. Omi was a gentle giant, but you wanted to see him angry, for once.

When you said something particularly embarrasing, Omi’s eye twitched as his heart rate sped up. His blood pressure rose when people started laughing, taking the fun out of the joke when the attack suddenly felt serious. Omi was about to snap, say something he knew he’d regret before he took in a deep inhale through his nose, and exhaled through his mouth. In and out, just like his therapist taught him.

Omi just laughed, much to your chagrin. What was there to laugh about? How could someone be so composed, no matter what?

You gave up, not noticing Omi’s tight fists and practiced breathing next to you. Omi refused to get angry, Omi hated getting angry.

5.

University was closed because of quarantine. Omi missed seeing his friends and often relied on texting now to stay in touch. Omi wouldn’t say he was clingy, but he definitely liked sending messages and shared everything on his mind as the older brother figure. You didn’t seem to like that.

You: Why do you always come to me for these situations if you don’t even listen to me?

Omi stared at his phone screen, confused. Why were you suddenly angry? Everything was going so well, you hadn’t lashed out at him in forever. It was before quarantine, you were enjoyable when you weren’t suddenly mad at him. Omi typed, furrowing his eyebrows.

Omi: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad.

You had sent a message immediately, something about how you couldn’t listen to his rant today and left. Omi was distraught, had he said something wrong? Omi scrolled through his messages, but it’s like you got angry out of no where. Did you like doing this?

Omi muted your contact. For once in his life, he felt like maybe this wasn’t his fault, this time. You exploded on him when he was sharing a vulnerable moment, it almost offended him to the point of writing a long message to show he was hurt.

Never mind that, Omi just dialed it down. Maybe, his friends didn’t want to hear all about his problems, maybe he pushed too much onto them. Omi breathed out, bringing his pointer finger up eye as he pulled it back, seeing the glisten of a tear. Without warning, Omi felt himself start producing tears out of frustration. Omi didn’t know why he was so emotional, it had been so long since he felt emotions this intensely after the many, many one–sided arguments.

Omi laid his head down on his pillow, trying to stop crying. Omi didn’t like all the fights, pretending like it didn’t bother him, that you found it funny to try and test his patience. Omi hated anger, Omi hated getting angry.

But, this time, Omi wasn’t even angry. Omi was just confused why you were angry at him all the time.

You tried messaging Omi the next day. At first, he tried ignoring it, wanting to get some satisfaction from being the petty person for once. But, he relented, getting back in the same cycle.

You seemed to be avoiding the topic of what happened. Omi felt confused, and wanted to resolve the slight tension. Omi apologized first, and for once, you even said sorry back! You explained why what Omi did was hurtful (Omi really didn’t understand, but he tried to), and Omi responded in a similar fashion.

(You ignored it. You sent him a meme.)

Was it fair to say his feelings were hurt? Did his feelings matter to you? Omi sighed, knowing this was the best he was going to get. You were probably just emotionally drained like he was. At least, you weren’t angry.

+1

It was the next day, and Omi snapped.

No, scratch that, it had been mere hours before you got angry at him in a groupchat. For once, Omi’s friends were defending him, saying he was just making funny associations with some T.V. show Taichi made him watch and it was all fun and games. You got angry, saying you felt uncomfortable being associated with a character and that Omi always remembered things based on colors.

Omi stared at his phone screen, again. Omi just liked colors, he hated to admit it, but colors often were essential to his memory. So, no wonder he got into photography! It was just a different way of thinking, and Omi tried explaining that as best as he could. But, he could tell even the others knew his patience was on thin ice as he monotonously texted back.

Omi: Please calm down, it’s just a joke. I wasn’t personally trying to attack you at all. Why are you angry?

You had responded, again and again until Omi sighed, resigning himself to apologize rather than play into your games. Was this all a test? Why were you angry so soon after you two apologized to each other?

Omi said sorry, and you stopped saying anything. Later in the day, you tried to send him multiple memes you knew would make him laugh. Omi just left them on read, trying to go through his day without lashing out at you after the whole episode. It was one thing to fight with him privately, but in the group chat? Omi almost felt betrayed.

Omi was overcome with rage. Omi was just re–reading the messages before his vision went red. His blood was boiling, his heartbeat was drumming in his ears. It had been so long since Omi felt like he wasn’t in the wrong, like the argument wasn’t his fault. Omi sat up, trying to massage his temples as he breathed in and out. But, they came out uneven and haggard, making him even more on edge as he held his head in his hands.

Why was this the last straw? You had fought with him over worse, but this time, Omi couldn’t control his emotions as well as he wanted to. You starting fights with him wasn’t okay, it’s not fine. Stubbornness couldn’t excuse the mental drain he felt every time he talked to you and the way he’d tip–toe around everything instead of talking freely, like he deserved.

Omi picked up his phone, and texted you, despite all his anger.

Omi: I think we shouldn’t talk to each other for a while. I’m tired of being angry all the time. I’ve worked too hard to sacrifice all the progress I’ve made for myself to be calm, you can’t take that away from me. I don’t want to be angry at you, I just want to be friends. Please, let’s talk again when you don’t see me as your inferior, but a friend.

Omi muted you for good and didn’t bother checking your messages. Maybe you won, you got him mad, but Omi felt the anger in him fade away as he realized there’d be no more arguments, fights, or sides to choose tomorrow.

Omi was tired of saying sorry when he didn’t mean it. Sure, he hated anger and getting angry, but sometimes, Omi needed it to say “no”.