#when the wikihow article on 'how to get my crush to like me back' says to be interested in their hobbies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 24: OH...HI

after months and too much longing, you finally meet corpse in person.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 3.8k

author’s note: we did it joe.

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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You woke up. That’s a lie, you didn’t sleep. Too much to plan, too much can go wrong and you’re...Not nervous, no, that’s not quite accurate. Excited. Yes, excited, so excited that two Redbulls and three coffees (so far!) make you jitter around the apartment like a butterfly that can’t find a flower bed to rest on.

Rae has almost had enough of your...random spurts of energy. So what if you ran a few laps, climbed a few tables, sang karaoke a bit too loud and yet another noise complaint had been issued? It arrived exactly an hour after your concert via your displeased landlord. Rae was, of course, the one to apologize because you were too busy trying on miniskirts. After that ordeal was taken care of, no sooner than Rae shut the front door with an exhausted sigh, you emerged from your room clad in your prettiest outfit. You present it to her with a bright smile and flourish.

She is not impressed.

“Will you quit it?” She questions, arms crossed over her chest. Your grin does not damper -- you’re used to such harsh treatment, having accepted her backhanded way of showing love long ago. Instead, you flick your wrists, showing off an ungodly amount of rings. You’re not certain of the exact number because you can’t count, “Y/n.” Her voice gains an edge, but you persist. Show off your shoes that have cute lil’ charms that jingle jangle not unlike the spurs on a hot cowgirl’s boots, “Y/n.” Her eyes narrow in displeasure, her stern tone making you falter in your dramatic stride down the imaginary catwalk, “Just stop.”

Okay! So maybe you’re not as used to her coldness as you thought you were. Your expression sours, and you quit the act, even if a part of you - one you barely fight off, goodness, you almost perish in that battle - wants to continue but even more annoying. As if you could somehow block her rationality with manic energy.

“What?” You ask, trying to keep the mood lighthearted despite her squared shoulders and tight frown, “I’m just having a bit of fun!” You say with a joyous little laugh, reaching for a glass of much needed water.

“No, you’re panicking.” Her words make the glass still, hoovering by your painted lips, but it’s short lived. You take a greedy gulp and it tastes fresh with a pinch of lipstick, “Look, I get it...” She shakes her head softly, “You’re meeting the guy you like for the first time, you jumped the gun straight to dating and now you’re...Anxious. It’s normal, you know.”

“But I’m not anxious.” You persist, and you really do mean it. You don’t like how she looks at you as if you’re the one that’s misunderstanding your own feelings. You set the glass down with a soft clink, heaving your own sigh, “I’m not, I’m really happy actually.” You explain softly, “It’s just...my way of dealing with it. I’m more... Worried about Corpse, to be honest.” You add, a tad quieter, “But, like, it’s all good!” You exclaim, strolling up to her and landing your hands on her shoulders, “I prepared.”

And it’s true! You had spent the night scouring the depths of the internet. Read every WikiHow article on how to deal with someone with extreme anxiety, how to not make things painfully awkward, and how to talk to boys (just in case. The last time you stumbled upon that particular article was way back in middle school when you had a crush on that one guy you saw in your school’s cafeteria every now and then. Naturally, that led you down the rabbit hole, and according to WikiHow’s How To Tell If A Boy Likes You guidebook, you found out that he was absolutely enamored with you because he glanced in your direction, like, two times. Safe to say that love story went nowhere. The point still stands).

So you forward all of this information to Rae, nestled in her bed whilst she lazily folds her clothes; clarify that you know that nothing much can happen, and that this whole situation is delicate, and that you must tread carefully because you don’t want to overwhelm him. She pauses her actions, glancing behind her to watch you staring idly at the ceiling, so peaceful, so thoughtful. And it’s not the eerie calmness you had displayed during your murderous spree in the last Among Us game, no, it’s just...quiet understanding.

“I’m actually impressed.” She says. You merely hum, counting the dust slowly descending in the cascading light, “You’re not as clueless as I thought.” Your lips quirk into a shy smile at the compliment- “Or as tactless.” - and turn downward just as quick.

“That implies that I’m always tactless.”

“You are.” She states and you sit up, a soft frown pinching your brows, “Not like, in a terrible way. You just...don’t think about your actions. Or the repercussions. You just know that you can get away with everything.”

“And I can!”

“That doesn’t actually mean you should do something just because you can. You know I’ll always support you. Literally everyone will always support you. But I’m not gonna coddle you. You’re just...a lot. Online and especially in person. But the fact that you’re actually taking this seriously and taking his feelings into consideration is...well, the bare minimum, but still, good job.”

...Much to think about. You don’t like thinking, it makes your head hurt. Though, that could just be the lack of sleep. You cross your legs and plop your head in your hand, tired eyes blinking owlishly, “Do you...think I should change what I’m wearing?”

Prompted by your question, she gives you a careful once over, “I mean, it’s signature you.”

“Signature me is a hoodie and some sweatpants.”

She smiles, “Then go change. Your outfit is a bit distracting for just...Hanging out indoors, no? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either way, though.”

“I just...” You bite the inside of your cheek, mulling your words over. Truly, the last time you were so attentive was when you went Psycho Mode in Among Us, which, to be fair, wasn’t that long ago. Perhaps there wasn’t a chance to let your mind dull - it’s almost as sharp as your butterfly knife, “I figured that if, like,” You vaguely motion with your hands, “if I be, like, all over the place, and wearing something cute, he’d be, like, distracted? And less anxious? No...awkward silence?”

“First meetings are always awkward, it’s natural.” She chimes, “I mean, if you’re so nervous-”

“I’m not nervous!”

“-then just don’t overthink it. I know it’s easier said than done, but you’re you, and Corpse is Corpse, and he likes you for who you are, and even if it is a bit awkward, I’m sure it’ll, like, blow over in a second. It really doesn’t matter how you look, Y/n.” She grins, “Plus, it’s not like you’re greeting him in your underwear or something.”

You will not admit that that was your plan B, not when you just landed in her good graces. You nod, “...I’ll go change.”

And so you do. Pick out your cutest hoodie and some sweatpants. Put away your jingle jangle shoes with a broken heart, instead of them donning your fluffiest socks; slip off some rings because they keep falling off of your fingers. It’s almost like all of those transformation scenes in rom-coms that are still popular for some reason, except you’re hot before and after, so there’s really no transformation at all.

Now you wait. Just wait, all other activities are excluded from this. Rae comes back to find you sitting on the edge of your bed, back straight, hands neatly folded on your lap. She compares you to a Sim’s character and you allow her. After mercilessly mocking you and snapping a few pictures - for blackmail, you assume - she helpfully informs that she is leaving because she doesn’t want to get in the way, but your psychic abilities which you acquired just now tell you that she simply doesn’t want to witness this train wreck. Not that it’ll be a train wreck, it would be if you were nervous, but you aren’t.

You just aren’t. You fidget with the rings adoring your hand; toy with the hem of your hoodie; bounce your leg up and down. It’s just caffeine, okay?! Fuck this, Twitter time.

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[ADDING A MUSICAL INTERMISSION, LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU WANT (I WROTE THIS CHAPTER WITH IT IN MIND)]

The waiting commences, only now it somehow feels more intense. The sun is setting, and you really want to be one of those cute girls that fill their camera roll with pictures of the sunset and the roseate sky, but your hands are trembling and holding up your phone feels like too much of a hassle. You’d rather just sit there, alone in the apartment, in the pin-drop silence, extremely uncomfy and tense, as if waiting for the end of the world.

A notification sounds off and your life flashes before your eyes. Hastily, you check it, a sticky mixture of delight and something else, something unpleasant constricting, making your stomach churn. He’s here. Holy shit, it’s happening. You order your anime plushies to stop fucking panicking, they’re like, totally embarrassing you at the moment! You wonder if they have their own little group chat, but instead of Totally Spies it’s called Total Embarrassment. Yikes, okay, that was harsh. After a good scolding, and a heartfelt apology for getting so heated, you smooth down the non-existent wrinkles on your modest outfit, and quickly waddle over to the electronic apartment thingie something something... you unlock the main door, okay!? This is for some reason feeling very not cash money, so you break out in a little dance number.

The doorbell does not sing that shrill, unpleasant tune; rather, there’s a soft knock on the apartment’s door, and you pause your shuffling, your renegade, and perk up at the imposing future hidden behind a slab of wood. Your heart beats a melody all on it’s own, and it’s loud, uncoordinated, like a musician that’s still familiarizing themselves with their instrument. And there’s that knock again, as uncertain as you’re feeling, and your clammy fingers latch onto the lock and turn it and now there is no more hiding - such a possibility is no longer an option; no more sporadic dances or sitting in disheartening silence and letting your thoughts weight you down.

You’re not quite sure what you were thinking about before you saw him in the threshold, head tilted slightly, fluffy dark hair obscuring the bags under his eyes, hunched, one ringed hand clutching onto the strap of his duffel bag, the other frozen mid-air, ready to knock one more time lest you didn’t hear him the first two. No, truly, you can’t, for the life of you, remember what all the fuss was about.

“...Oh.” It’s a soft sound, so quiet, but not surprised, rather...relieved. Faint shimmers of a smile reach you, hidden behind a black face mask - the panini chic! You must stan a respectful king - but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you question it’s sincerity. He fails to return your gaze, rather choosing to stare somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes seem unfocused. Apprehensive. A wild thought occurs to you that he expected you to trick him somehow, and wild thoughts invade the land of your mind often, but never in such a way. You clutch the handle just a bit tighter.

His hand retreats to his side, up to his mask and you think he’s about to unhook it but he stills, and there’s panic there, as if he had been moving unconsciously, as if he hadn’t realized what he’s doing. He plays it off by idly scratching his cheek, muttering an equally quiet, “Hi.” to fill the silence.

Finally, your WikiHow knowledge can come in handy, along with your common sense, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mutter, pulling away from the door, “Make yourself at home!” You slide to the kitchen, your socks acting not unlike ice-skates cutting through the Arctic frost covered ground. You hope that with you occupied and not watching him as closely he’ll feel slightly more at ease.

You’d like to hug him. Kiss him, definitely. But if he’s so uncomfortable that he can’t bring himself to shed his mask in your presence, then there’s really nothing you can do.

You hear the door shut and lock behind you as you pull out two glasses from the cupboard, humming a song you can’t quite recall the name of. You ask him if he’d like something to drink - it was a short flight, yet a flight still, and planes always make you thirsty, and there you go talking his ear off. You end abruptly, but smoothly, like a true diplomat; if he notices, you have no way of knowing - he doesn’t provide even a hint. He’s hard to read, and literature was never your best subject. But you’re trying.

He sets his duffel bag down on a nearby chair, “I, uhhh,” His voice is raspy and low, another indication of a pathetic lack of sleep, “I...got you something, uhh, I dunno-dunno if I should...give it now, or?” He sends you a questioning glance, but it doesn’t linger. Your offer of drinks is momentarily forgotten, though you hardly mind.

You grin, “Sure! I love gifts, gimmie gimmie.” You make grabby hands, and he snorts, and it would’ve sounded endearing if he didn’t sound so fucking tired. He unzips the bag, and you pad your way to him, mindful of personal space (something you, in most social situations, chose to pretend does not exist). You note his hands quivering lightly, just like yours had in the agonizing wait, but he hides it well. You wish you could hold them. You’re afraid to try.

He pulls out a black hoodie and you recognize the custom art on it instantly - it’s his merch. He presents it in awkward flourish, murmuring a “Tadaaaa” under his breath; your heart skips a pleasant beat, and you have to bite down on your lower lip lest you smile appears too big. The fabric is soft under your fingers, and you accept his gift with a dramatic bow, and he turns his head away with another little laugh. You’re chipping away at the ice around him; it’s a slow process, but it’s worth the effort.

Truly, your own hoodie is shabby in comparison - icky, how could you have ever worn such a thing in the first place?! You’ll have to do extensive research in fashion magazines and Printerest so such a slip-up may never happen again. You discard it hastily and put his on instead; it smells like washing detergent with hints of cologne, one you instantly pin point belonging to him, “It’s, uhhh, it’s mine? I hope you, uhh, I didn’t have any spare ones, so-I hope you don’t...mind.”

He’s finally looking at you, but he’s still tense, still hesitant, and you shake your head softly, “No,” You admit, “I like it even more now.” You pull on the hood, toy with the strings and yank them quickly; your face is concealed, save for your nose, “Comfy.” Your commentary is unmatched, best of it’s kind - eloquent and effortless, much like yourself.

Another small laugh reaches your ears, and it sounds a bit livelier than the others had been. Success!

“Stop that.” He says gently, and you see moving shadows; his hands loosen the strings and your face is revealed to him once again. He’s close now, and he doesn’t move away; his hands come to rest on your shoulders, warm even through layers of fabric, “I came all this way to see you, don’t hide your face from me.”

Your eyes narrow playfully, your finger rapidly tapping away on his clothed cheek, “What’s all this then? Hm? Hm?” Instead of swatting your hand away, which you figured he’d do, he complies and finally tugs that fucking mask off. Your breath catches in the back of your throat and you halt your ministrations - truly, seeing him smiling on screen is nothing compared to him smiling in person. You can’t quite contain yourself any longer - your excitement might burst out in another dance number otherwise - as you throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him flush against you. He’s quick to return the embrace. Maybe it was all the encouragement he needed.

“Wow,” He mumbles, only slightly offended, “so I finally show my face to you, in person, and you just-...you just look away?”

“I’m hugging you, dumbass.”

“...Touche.”

Things fall into place after that, like a dozen puzzle pieces fitting together. He won’t let you go - he doesn’t want to. You put on some music, something easy and indie and that doesn’t require too much effort to listen to, as the two of you contemplate what to eat. Cooking by yourselves was dismissed due to the unstable relationship between yourself and cooking utensils. The stove and you had had a falling out recently, but this feud had started long ago, back in pre-school, with only short intervals of friendship. He listened to your extensive explanation absolutely enraptured and only moderately confused.

So you settled on ordering pizza from Domino’s. You have no trouble calling or receiving phone calls, because you have no trouble doing anything, and he admitted that he only really calls you because he gets too anxious to do more, so you’re tasked with ordering the food. You accept this mission with pride.

You stand tall, gazing out the window into the wild California domain: massive buildings and towering eucalyptus trees, bleeding skyline and the sun slowly getting swallowed up by the ocean. Corpse looms behind you, with his arms snaked around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking at you through the corner of his eye. You wait patiently for the underpaid, overworked staff member to pick up, and once they do, you have the audacity to grin brightly and chirp, “Hi! I want pizza.”

Conversations flow smoothly, and you make hot chocolate - because you are hot and you crave chocolate - and he insists he wants one too, because you want one, and you don’t hesitate to overflow his cup with whipped cream and an ungodly amount of miniature marshmallows. A premature heart attack, just for him. Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never met you. When the doorbell chimes, you’re astounded that an hour flew by so quickly.

After the delicious meal, the movie night must commence. So what if you watched 10 Things I hate About You yesterday, you insist that you have already forgotten the plot. You lead him to your room and he tries not to stare, but can’t help himself. Pretty boy in a pretty girl’s room. His eyes linger on the massive posters of Chrollo on your walls, and you sense his displeasure rolling off of him in waves.

“What?” You huff, fluffing the pillows, “You don’t like my husband?”

He jabs his finger into his chest, into the spot of his heart, “I’m your husband.”

“Side hoe, then-”

“-No.”

You didn’t lie when you said you love to cuddle, or that you’re clingy. It’s a good thing he’s just as clingy as you are, because when he lays down and you latch onto his side. He doesn’t complain, rather wraps his arm around pulls you close. His thumb draws lazy circles on your side; with your head resting on his chest, you feel each rhythmical rise and drop.

The opening credits play on the projector, the room dark enough for your pile of plushies to look like a whole fucking human just standing in the corner. A ghost! Sucks for it, you’re not scared. You feel safe. Protected. So comfortable in Corpse’s hold that you’re honestly wondering how did you manage to be so long without him. To think all of this started when Sykkuno followed you on Twitter. What a lucky accident.

��Can I ask you something?” Your voice cuts through the bopping 90s soundtrack and Julia Stiles’ voice. He hums. You take it as a yes. Tilting your head upwards, you find his eyes again, a thorn of displeasure picking you as you note that that apprehension you had seen previously is still very much there, “...You really wouldn’t date me if I was a worm?”

His chest rumbles with a laugh and his lips split into a grin, “I would.” He presses your side for emphasis, “I really would.” He repeats, reassuringly. You, however, are not convinced.

“But I’d be a worm.”

“I know. We’d... roll around in the dirt together, or something.”

“But you’d be human.”

He frowns softly, “Why couldn’t I be a worm, too?”

“Those are the rules.”

“What kind of shitty fucking rules are those?”

“I dunno, it’s like the Thanos snap or something. I just turn into a worm. I’m the only one.”

“That’s fine.” He smiles, “I’d take you out on a fishing date or something.”

Shocked, offended, and heartbroken, you hit his chest and pointedly turn away with a pout, which he finds very funny for some reason, but you fail to see the humor anywhere except the movie. Despite the fact that he’d sacrifice you for a fish, you smile shyly and close your eyes. He did say you would take a nap together, and if he really thought you’d stay awake for movie night, well, then he’s just an idiot. You had decided you would fall asleep as soon as he was next to you. It’s a miracle you managed to stay awake for so long.

“...Sleeping already?” You don’t appreciate his teasing tone.

“’m not sleeping...” You murmur, “’m resting my eyes.”

“Sure.”

You’re not quite certain (of anything, really) how much time drifts by, but you’re nearly lost in unconsciousness, in the warm, nice feeling that comes along with him like a cloud. Perhaps he thinks you’re asleep, he has to, else he wouldn’t say anything at all, “You’re stuck with me now, you know.” It’s such a soft admission, riddled with the same notes of anxiety that always prevail in his speech; with the same hopeful sincerity he had been gazing at you the whole evening.

Moving your lips is such a hassle, but you manage, “’m...stuck...” You mumble, “’m...stuck...what are you doing step-”

“No!” He laughs, and your lips quirk into a lazy smile, “No, no, no. Just no. Do you talk in your sleep?” You fake snore at that, loudly, “You’re like a little dragon.”

“...Fuck you.”

“Fine, a kitten, then.” That’s better. You feel something chapped, but soft, press onto your forehead, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

God, you’re so fucking happy. Does he know how happy you are? How happy he makes you? But you’re too tired for screaming and flailing around, too tired to even crack an eye open. You want him to know all the same, “...like you.” You whisper, but you don’t know if he hears you over the movie, “...I like you.”

His reply is instant, breathless, “I like you too.”

Good, you want to say, and maybe you do - can’t tell anymore. Sleep takes you too quickly.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x y/n #corpse social media au #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #fluff #wtf i have never been this soft no one hmu

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r0zyp0zy0zy · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!! I’m new to the Haikyuu fandom but Kageyama is my favorite so far!! Can you do numbers 20 and 24 with him please? Thank you in advance! 🧡🖤

Haikyuu!! Prompt list trial

HQ!! Prompt list

Thanks for requesting! I’m also fairly new to the Haikyuu fandom <3

The other requests are in the works, they might just take a bit longer bc I’m swamped with school stuff! Happy reading :D

Words: 2400+

Warnings: possible weight trigger?, Kags calls you heavy 😔

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x FEM!reader

Prompt(s): 20- "I didn't mean it like that, I was trying to... tease you. That's what you do, right? When you have feelings?" & 24- "don't leave me here with her/them!"

The mind of Kageyama was mostly a mystery; his skull hollow with a few volleyballs bouncing around. He wasn't the smartest to say the least— Have you seen his report card?

So, when his heart pumped 10x faster than when he was on the court when he was around you, he only thought he wasn't feeling well that day. Next was his voice; constantly stuttering for no apparent reason when he was chatting with you. Kageyama had not a clue what was going on with him until Tanaka spoke up for him, asking how long Kageyama was going to wait before asking you out. The boy in question just wrinkled his nose and went to toss another ball to an energetic redhead.

Nishinoya and Tanaka cornered the unsuspecting setter in the club room, trapping him with their looming auras. Kageyama only stared at them quizzically for a moment before a phone was shoved in his face.

"Look, dude, check out this article!" Tanaka grinned, raising his eyebrows.

"Is it about volleyball?" Kageyama asked as he threw on his uniform.

"No—"

"—don't wanna look at it then," Kageyama interrupted his upperclassmen, grabbing his bag and hoisting it over his shoulder.

"C'mon bro!" Argued Nishinoya, blocking the door with pure physics, clinging to the frame, "we just wanna help you get with y/n! This Wiki article will save you from your lack of social awareness around her."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kageyama mumbled, glancing at the phone pointed at him. It was titled: 'How to Flirt with Girls'. Now, he wasn't necessarily considering reading it, but it was tempting. "Why d'you want me to flirt with y/n? She's my friend."

"She's your crush is what she is. Are you really too dense to realize your feelings?" Tanaka said. "Actually- yeah. You are. Here, I'll text you the link."

Later that night when Kageyama was trying to sleep, his mind wandered in circles thinking about his feelings towards you. He didn't think he had time to develop a crush, but here he was pulling up his phone to check the link his upperclassman sent him. He squinted at the bright WikiHow screen, and scrolled down to read the captions. He glanced at the first three options, not really reading (or caring) about 'don't forget to smile!' and 'don't cross your arms'.

The only title that caught his eye was 'Tease Her'. Kageyama knew how to do that; it was easy. He did it with Hinata all the time! He blushed just thinking about making you flustered, a wish that he didn't know he had until tonight. He didn't bother with reading the rest of the article, feeling confident in himself that he knew what to do. He threw his phone back onto his nightstand and cuddled into his bedsheets, grinning wildly.

Tobio didn't know what he was getting into when he asked Tanaka and Nishinoya about the skill of teasing. He had only wanted a few pointers from the 'pros', and some advice on what to do after you were charmed by him.

"Oh ho ho!" Tanaka said excitedly, waving his hands around as he ranted. "Make sure to insult her playfully, but always tell her how beautiful she is afterwards! Oh, and don't forget about the lingering touches! Girls love that stuff, trust me."

Kageyama nodded along, turning to Nishinoya, "don't forget to smile! Girls love sweet smiles~."

The raven haired boy was practically buzzing with anticipation as he waited at the table he usually ate at with you, desperate to try out his new flirting techniques. He smiled at you, something he usually did but he tried making it brighter. He felt his chest bubble when you raised your eyebrows at him, giving a cute smile in return.

You were wondering what the hell was up with Kageyama. You knew he wasn't the best at smiling, but when he flashed his teeth it was just downright creepy. You tried not to laugh as you sat beside him, pulling out your lunch to sit on the table in front of you. A huff left your lips as Tobio snatched away your bento, raising it above his head with a playful smirk.

"Kageyama-kun," you raised a brow playfully. "You want me to starve or something?"

"Just watching your weight," he replied, grin still plastered on his face.

You deadpanned at him, giving him a scowl, "don't say stuff like that, it makes me feel like shit."

"You're still p-pr-er, P-p-pretty in my eyes," your friend stammered, his stance wavering. You lazily tried to grab your lunch back, but Tobio's long arms kept it out of your reach.

You sighed, giving him a teasing grin before reaching out and tickling his armpit. He choked out a laugh and your bento fell out of his hand, and you caught it. Kageyama gave you a frustrated pout and watched as you ate your food.

"Serves you right for calling me fat," you said through a mouthful, cringing at your manners, "that wasn't very nice."

"You're only heavy because of your muscle," Kageyama said, propping a fist on his cheek, "you'd be good at serving." You looked at him quizzically, trying to figure out what was up with him today.

"Y-your clothes look cool today," Tobio offered, trying to keep up with his 'flirtatious' act.

"... dude I literally wear the same thing every day. Y'know, my uniform," now you were really confused. Was he messing with you? Or was he just being his usual weird self?

A blush creeped onto his face and he looked away, burring his face in his own lunch. You ate in an odd silence, occasionally catching Kageyama taking glances at you.

"Y-you're, erm, very..." Tobio trailed off, refusing to look at you. His face was red with embarrassment and he stared at his empty lunchbox, tapping his fingers on the table rhythmically.

"Go on~," you pressed, glaring holes in his head.

Kageyama perked up suddenly, putting an arm around your shoulders, "you look heavy, let me hold it for you. Wait—."

"Ok, dude. What's up with you?!" You were getting pissed now, and you quickly packed up your bento. "I'm going to my class early."

Before he could stop you, you peeled his arm from your body and sped walked away into a bathroom. Kageyama blushed in frustration, cursing at his stupid twisted tongue. He couldn't believe he messed up the simplest pick up line, the one that Nishinoya had taught him. Maybe Tsukishima was right, he was going to scare you off before he could make a proper move. He groaned angrily into his hands and shoved his lunch container into his bag, huffing down the hall to get to his class.

You sunk down into your seat, trying not to let the interaction with Kageyama rule your mind. Was was up with him today? You thought. He was usually odd, but not this odd. You laid out your things in front of you and organized them to distract yourself. You slightly jumped at the sound of the first bell, and you heard the hallway outside start to get louder with footsteps and laughing chatter.

"Hi y/n-san!" Yamaguchi said, and you looked up at him.

"Hey," you mumbled.

"What's got you all grouchy?" Tsukishima chuckled as he sat by his desk beside yours.

"I'm sorry," you sighed, "Kageyama-kun was just being a dick during lunch."

"What'd he do?" Yamaguchi asked, sitting in his seat behind you. He gathered his notebook and pencil case.

"He was being really weird. Er, weirder than normal," you started. "He tried holding me back from my lunch and he basically called me fat. But then he said I was heavy because I had so much muscle? Which doesn't even make sense, and then he said I'd be good at setting which is— I mean ok?"

Tsukishima snickered from beside you as he opened his binder, and Yamaguchi blushed a little at his teammate's actions.

"And then he told me that my clothes looked nice. My uniform clothes, that I wear every day," you puzzled almost to yourself, forgetting that your friends were listening to your rant. "Oh, he also said like, I dunno, a pickup line or something? He said that 'I looked heavy and he wanted to hold 'it'' whatever the hell he was supposed to mean by that."

Tsukki had to shove a hand over his mouth to keep himself from combusting into boisterous laughter, Yamaguchi doing the same. You frowned and rolled your eyes, turning to look at the board as the second bell rang.

"The idiot's got a crush on you," Tsukishima spilled, chest shaking from the aftershocks of his laughter.

"W-wha—," you started.

"—Tsukki!" Yamaguchi interrupted. "You told me that you weren't gonna mess with Kageyama-kun's relationships!"

Tsukishima just shrugged before turning to the board, your eyes bulging at him. "He fucking what—."

"I know!" Tsukishima smirked, "I didn't think he had any emotion for anything but volleyball."

You opened your mouth to reply, but got cut off by your teacher. You frowned as you set up your notes, messily writing your name and the date. Kageyama's actions now made sense to you, knowing how awkward he is in expressing his feelings.

After class as you walked down the hall, Tsukishima sported a sly grin. You eyed him quizzically, not trusting the look in his eyes. He smirked harder at your glance and chuckled.

"I have a plan," the blonde said, pushing up his glasses. "I'm gonna shove Kageyama in the equipment room with you."

"And so I get a say in this at all?" You pressed, glaring playfully at him.

"Well, what do you say?" He asked.

"I say yes," you said, Yamaguchi facepalming at your response.

You followed the two boys down to the gym where they practiced, and waited by the door until Yamaguchi gave you the clear that no one was there yet except for the third years. Tsukishima led you to the double doors of the equipment room and you took a step inside the dark room, turning on your flashlight.

"If you hear an even three knocks, open the door immediately," you ordered, shaking slightly. "Incase he does something... weird," you faltered slightly, and Yamaguchi nodded quickly.

"Whatever," the tall blonde in front of you said, "just get in before he comes in the gym— oh, he's here."

The door was closed suddenly, and you were left alone with only your phone flashlight to protect you. You took a deep breath as you heard voices outside the heavy doors, trying to regulate your heartbeat. What were you doing? What was your plan after he gets trapped inside? The doors opened and filled the room with light for a brief moment before the space was consumed in darkness once again.

"Hey!" You heard Kageyama yell beside you, pounding on the door, "what the hell?!"

You laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and he whipped around to slap you away, faltering when he realized it was you. His eyes widened and he was glad you couldn't see the blush that flourished on his face. Kageyama was silent for a few moments before hammering at the door again.

"Guys! Don't leave me here with her!" He panicked when you pulled his hands away from the doors, and he went quiet.

"Calm down, Kageyama-kun," you stifled a giggle. "You're only here so you can apologize to me."

"W-what?" He stuttered, body going stiff.

"Just say sorry for offending me," you shrugged. His eyes were glued to the floor, hands still trapped by your grip.

"I- I thought... I didn't mean it like that, I was trying to... tease you. That's what you do, right? When you have feelings?" Kageyama's blush crawled across his whole face all the way to the tips of his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut, terrified of what your next words were going to be.

"So you do have a crush on me," you pondered, loosening your hold on his wrists. The boy in front of you snapped his hands to his sides and anxiously squeezed his fists.

"How...?" Kageyama held his breath, as if afraid of your answer.

"Hmm, a little birdie told me~," you teased, running a finger down his chest. His breath hitched in his throat and a shiver ran down his spine when he felt your hot breath whisper onto his ear, "I'm still waiting for your apology."

"I'm s-sor-sorry for what I s-said at lunch today..." Kageyama stammered, rubbing his arm awkwardly.

"I accept your apology!" You smiled and went in for a hug, crushing his arms to his sides. "Meet me after practice near the vending machines~," you murmured playfully.

"—what are you guys doing?!" Daichi's muffled yell came through the door. "You can't just trap people in there!"

Kageyama tensed and he tried to pull away, but you held him closer. The bright light from the gym poured into the small room, illuminating all of the equipment and yourselves.

"Are you oka— oh," Daichi cut himself off, eyes widening at the sight of a girl hugging his underclassman. You peaked at him over Kageyama's shoulder and gave a shy smile, pulling away slowly.

"Bye, Tobio-chan," you adjusted your bag and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "See you after your practice."

The group of boys watched in silence as you skipped your way out the gym door, too shocked to say anything. Kageyama's face grew hotter and he reached up to touch where you kissed him. He felt like he was going to pass out.

"Kageyamaaaaa!!" Hinata yelled, shaking his friend viciously, "was that your girlfriend?! Why didn't you tell us you had one?! She's so pretty! Why does she even like you?!"

"Chill out Hinata-kun," Daichi said sternly, pulling the redhead away by the back of his shirt. "Kageyama-kun, be ready for practice in five."

Tobio nodded slowly, his hand still on his cheek in bewilderment. He was too excited to tell Hinata off, completely blocking out his friend. He couldn't wait for practice to end.

#anime #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq anime #hq x reader #kageyama tobio #Kageyama Tobio x reader #Tobio Kageyama #Tobio Kageyama x reader

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sneezefiction · 5 years ago

Text

Caring for a Sore S/O after Working Out

Kuroo, Bokuto, Akaashi, & Tsukki x Reader - Sore S/O Headcanons

request: “can i request headcanons with the third gym squad when their s/o is sore from doing excercise? usually i don't excercise, the last week i just jump the rope, and my left leg is just aching as hell, Now I'm limping, sliding my hurt leg lmao thank u by the way!!!!!”

a/n: ok i felt this. i haven’t worked out since quarantine began and i am physically falling apart rn. so even if i did workout, i’d probably be in so much pain that i’d quit the next day oop. BUT here’s the 3rd gym squad, at your service bby <33 hope u enjoy!

warnings: slightly suggestive for Kuroo

total wc: 1020

---

Kuroo:

lately Kuroo has been pestering you to come to the gym w/ him

i mean you are dating an athlete and you gotta admit, he looks pretty damn good

but when you wake up at 4am to an unwelcome aching all over your body, the regret sets in

your arms, legs, thighs… everything is so sore. it hurts to even shift under the covers

you stifle several groans, trying not to wake up Kuroo, but he’s such a light sleeper that his eyes are open the second you make a noise

“You okay, babe?” he mumbles sleepily, rubbing his eyes

“Kuroo, I am in so much pain. The gym was a mistake.” you murmur, “What do I do? I don’t think I can go back to sleep.”

“I’ve gotcha, baby. What hurts?” he’s pulling the covers off of you

Your face flushes, skin exposed, unsure of what he’s planning to do

He smirks, “Relax, I’m just gonna give you a massage.”

he’ll start with your shoulders, pressing into them with firm hands, and you release a deep satisfied breath

Tetsurou will work his way down your body, savoring the contented hums you release, making sure to apply direct, but gentle pressure

when he finds his way to your legs, you let out a groan, and now Kuroo’s cheeks are tinged pink

but you’re already sore, so he spares you for tonight

when he’s finished, he leaves trails of kisses down your back and grabs you a heating pad

you thank him with a sleepy peck on the forehead and he responds by pulling you into his arms, ignoring the little “Ouch” you squeak out

Bokuto:

you’d worked out a couple of days ago and Bo was SO PROUD OF YOU

but the thing is, he forgot how sore people could get if they haven’t exercised in a while

so when he came over to your place and leapt into your arms for a hug, you both crashed to the floor, your legs unable to handle the strain of his sudden movements

now you’re not only sore, but there’s a sharp pain shooting up your arm

he’ll feel sO bad about it, apologizing profusely on his knees while grasping your hands

“Y/n, I am SO SORRY. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!”

like babe, he’s pleading, his eyes are so big

and you won’t have any time to respond to him because he’ll have already scooped you up in his arms

he’s holding you bridal style, his grip gentle and secure, eyes on you the whole time

“Were you really that sore, baby?”

“Bokuto, I literally collapsed. What do you think?”

“Please let me make it up to you!” he begs

be prepared for a netflix night and all kinds of takeout food

he’ll make sure your legs are laid over his lap and he’ll keep his warm hands on your thighs the whole time, stroking them softly

now every time you workout, you have to tell him beforehand, bc he’s scared of you collapsing under his crushing hugs

Akaashi:

he’ll see you limping and immediately assess the situation

you’ve clearly done something out of the ordinary, you’ve been complaining about how heavy your arms feel, and you’re unreasonably tired

so when you finally mention your workout the other day, everything clicks and he decides to pull out his full regimen for muscle soreness and strain

he starts randomly bringing you water bottles throughout the day

if it’s your abs that hurt, Akaashi will bring you a hot water bottle and a fuzzy, blanket

at night, before you both finish up some documentary series together, you’ll hear water running in your bathroom

you walk in to find Akaashi filling it up, clouds of bubbles sitting on the water’s surface

he’ll turn around and give you a soft smile

“Thought you might like something soothing, y/n.”

“Akaashi… you’re amazing.”

once you’re relaxed and out of your bath, he motions for you to sit with him, leaving a big space for you to lay out on the sofa

but you’re feeling cuddly and lean into his side

he’ll just run his fingers through your hair, not minding the dampness, lowkey giving you a scalp massage

and if your hair is long enough, Akaashi will move it to the side, lightly brushing the skin on your neck and trace the crevices on your shoulders and neck

you literally work out just so you get this treatment more often lmao

Tsukki:

he actually makes fun of you for trying to exercise in the first place

“You do realize you have to do this again to get results, right?” he snorts, “If you feel this awful, maybe just don’t do it at all.”

Tsukki says that, but the next day he’ll be helping you learn proper form for different exercises

he’ll position your arms and legs so you don’t put pressure on your back and he’ll keep you from overdoing it while on a run

ever wonder why he smells so fresh? this guy uses icy hot all. the. time.

it helps him release all kinds of tension in his muscles

he’ll absolutely convert you to it, you have no choice in this matter

but Tsukishima insists you’re putting it on wrong and definitely uses it as an opportunity to get his hands on you in a slightly more discreet way you’re not fooling anyone, sweetheart

when he’s rubbing it in on your back, you lean into the touch and he teases you by immediately dropping his hands to wash them off

you’ll be pouting around the house, but when he comes back, he’ll start massaging pressure points, rubbing your back and neck

Tsukki’s hands are literal magic yes, you may take this in any way you’d like to

“How’d you get so good at this?” you ask, the soreness slowly fading

“Wikihow.” he says monotonously

“No, really babe. I have to know your secret.”

“...I literally read an article and just figured it out from there.”

he actually probably did learn it off the internet, but you refuse to believe it

Tsukki definitely threatens to charge you for his services, but he secretly relishes how much you seem to enjoy his touch

---

tags: @cherryonigiri

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goodlucktai · 4 years ago

Note

Could you write prompt 88 for natsume yuujjncho?

PROMPTS LIST

88. “That’s definitely not true.” “Of course it is. I read it on Wikipedia.”

Tooru is being her usual, relentlessly supportive self. Takashi would appreciate it any other time.

“I really don’t want to go on a date with your coworker,” he tells her for the third time.

“The best way to get over an unrequited love is to date for fun!” Tooru says with unfounded confidence.

To Takashi’s knowledge, Tooru has been comfortably aromantic for as long as Takashi has known her, so he has no idea where this apparent expertise is coming from and he’s somewhat afraid to find out.

“That’s definitely not true,” he says, attempting reason.

“Of course it is! I read it on Wikipedia.”

Behind Tooru, Kaname is giving Takashi a look of deep sympathy. Takashi closes his eyes, fortifying himself, and says, “Tooru-- ”

“Well, okay, it was a WikiHow article. But it was really well-reasoned!” She leans forward on her elbows, looking at him with wide, earnest eyes. “If this person you like won’t give you the time of day, forget about them! Go on a date with Hideki. You’ll have fun.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Takashi says weakly. “It’s not as though I told them I’m in love with them. They didn’t reject me. I’m not… pining.”

If anything, he’s regretting bringing up his hopeless infatuation in the first place. He fully blames Katsumi and one too many drinks over dinner last night. What had been a safe, if uncomfortable, secret for the last four years has somehow become an open discussion between three of his closest friends.

He’s deeply, exhaustively relieved he didn’t slip up and tell them who.

Tooru frowns at him.

“That’s another thing. Why are you so certain you’re not a total catch? I showed Hideki a picture of you and he, like, literally swooned. If you’d just tell this person you’re in love with them, they’d probably be over the moon.”

Takashi feels himself flush. Kaname is smiling at him now, gently but not without humor. He, at least, understands how strange the idea is that someone could look at him and see something worth having. Lucky for Kaname, Katsumi is both more stubborn than a mountain spirit and extremely vocal about the things he wants.

“I have an idea,” Tooru says brightly. She stands up, rounds the table, and offers Takashi her hand. “Come with me.”

With a deep sense of dread, Takashi takes her hand, and allows himself to be tugged out of the kitchen, past the sitting room where Kaname is half-rising from his chair with the look of someone with no idea how to stop this train wreck from happening but with every intention of giving it his best shot, and up the stairs.

She taps on the study door and slides it open. Satoru glances up from his laptop, paperwork spread across the desk beside him. He smiles when he sees who it is, shutting his computer halfway and giving them his full attention, the way he’s done since they were kids.

He always puts his friends first. It’s one of the first things Takashi loved about him.

“What are you two troublemakers up to?” he asks cheerfully. “Bring a new ghost home or something?”

“No ghosts today,” Tooru says. “We actually have a romance problem to solve.”

Something flickers in Satoru’s expression, but his smile doesn’t give an inch. “Oh? Do tell.”

“Takashi is in love with someone who doesn’t love him back,” she explains, to the very last person in the entire world Takashi would prefer she explained this to. “He doesn’t seem to realize that anybody would be lucky to date him. He won’t listen to me, so I figured he might listen to you.”

Satoru looks like a bird caught in wire, eyes round, body very still. “Um,” he says, aiming for a laugh and falling short, “why would he listen to me?”

“Well, you had a crush on him in high school,” Tooru says reasonably, as if she turns the world upside down on a regular basis, and it really isn’t that exciting. “So you’ll be able to tell him all his good points.”

For a second, everyone sits there and stares at each other. Takashi’s heart is beating so loud he thinks Kaname can probably hear it downstairs. Satoru is the first one to look away, hands doing the nervous fluttering they do when he’s about one minute away from a spiral.

“Yeah, I could definitely do that,” he says, too fast, a little too quiet, “um, but maybe later? I have to finish this paper, it’s worth half my grade in sociology, and the first draft is due tonight. It’s gonna be a whole thing. Might take awhile.”

Tooru is one of the smartest people Takashi has ever had the privilege of knowing, even if she can be kind of oblivious about some things that other girls are like bloodhounds for, and he sees it when she realizes she made a big mistake.

Her hands fly to her mouth. She’s apologizing, so fast the words break and stumble over each other, and Takashi gets the sense that this has been something of an open secret for a long time. That Satoru probably talked about it every now and then in a cheerful past-tense. That Tooru probably reasonably assumed that Takashi knew, since everyone else did.

Satoru seems as though he’s seriously contemplating the window as a means of escape, so Takashi says, “Tooru, can we have a minute?”

She looks ready to cry, so he presses her hand.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Really. I just need a minute.”

When she’s gone, flying back down the stairs by the sound of things, Takashi looks at Satoru. His best friend. His first friend. The first person who saw a strange transfer student who jumped at shadows and talked in whispers and decided there was something there worth knowing. The first person who took him by the hand and kept finding reasons not to let him go.

Satoru flinches when Takashi scoots over closer to him. He looks one step shy of humiliated.

“You had a crush on me back then?” Takashi asks gently.

“Kind of obvious, Bakashi,” Satoru mutters. “Everybody did. I’m the only one who didn’t know better.”

There’s something unfolding inside him that hurts to be trapped inside him, pressing against the walls and corridors that make up his heart as though searching for a window or a door or a crack to sneak through, too big to be contained.

Takashi borrows the same bravery that led him up mountains and across rivers and through fires when he was a child, and says, “I had a crush on you, too.”

Satoru’s head snaps up. He’s always been quick to cry, more emotional on a good day than Tooru and Katsumi at their very worst combined, and that hasn’t changed now that they’re in university. His mouth wobbles for a moment.

“Oh,” he says, with the kind of wonder and defeat better suited someone who just saw a fleeting vision of everything they ever wanted.

Takashi puts his hand on the desk, palm-up. After a beat, Satoru takes it. He always takes it.

“I still do,” Takashi admits.

“Oh,” Satoru says again, but this time he loses the battle not to start bawling over his homework.

The door rattles open with force, and Kaname is there with Tooru hovering fretfully at his shoulder, and he says, “Satchan, please don’t cry, Atsushi will kill us all. Even if none of us tell him, he’ll just know. It’s okay, we still love you, Takashi still loves you.”

Satoru buries his face in his free hand, shoulders shaking. It’s really not fair for them to have ambushed him like this, and Atsushi really will be angry when he gets home from his lecture and uses his unnerving psychic powers to find out that someone made Satoru cry, but Takashi is grinning so hard it hurts. His hand wrapped tight around Satoru’s feels the same as it always has.

“Yeah,” Takashi says, more easily than he would have thought possible even an hour ago. “I still do.”

#natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #nishinatsu #natsume takashi #taki tooru #tanuma kaname #nishimura satoru #shibata katsumi #my writing #prompt #anonymous #natsuyuu fic #me making nishimura cry: someone hold that boy this INSTANT #kitamoto can tell when nishimura has been crying from like a mile away #and his wrath is uncontested #even nyanko sensei dips when nishi gets teary #wanna find a home (wanna share it with you)

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thorinlandscaping · 4 years ago

Text

why did it have to be me?

my @batfamsecretsanta gift for @peppersonironi. Hope you like it!

The soft knock on Bruce’s office door alerted him to two things. First, that the person knocking was Dick. Second, that Dick had something important to talk to him about. Dick never knocked unless he needed Bruce’s help with something important, or he’d done something stupid like that time he’d somehow ‘accidentally’ convinced the entirety of Gotham (and the rest of the world) that Bruce Wayne and Batman were dating.

Bruce wasn’t looking forward to this conversation.

“Come in,” Bruce said, mentally preparing himself to either help with some insane problem, or to begin damage control immediately. Dick shuffled into the room, eyes on the floor. This inspired no confidence in Bruce whatsoever.

“So. Bruce,” Dick said, as he looked up and made rather intense eye contact with him and oh no, is Dick going to tell him that he’d accidentally revealed Batman’s identity to the press, “I have something to tell you.”

Oh god, Dick had revealed Batman’s identity to the press. He was going to have to deal with every single person knowing Bruce Wayne is the Batman. Bruce had prepared for this, but he didn’t think he’d ever really have to face this reality. He was going to have to fake his death. He really didn’t want to fake his death. But, if he had to-

“I have a crush on Wally,” Dick said.

-he would, wait. What? Did Dick just say he had a crush on Wally?

“Wally West? Kid Flash? You have a crush on him? You didn’t reveal my identity as Batman to the press by accident?” Bruce asked, deeply relieved and very shocked.

“Uh. Yes, yes, yes and no? Has someone revealed your identity to the press?” Dick asked, slightly concerned.

“No,” Bruce said.

“Okay… Well, I was wondering if you could give me some advice on how to ask him out. You know. On a date,” Dick said, his nervousness shining through in his voice.

Bruce sort of wanted to cry. His kid was asking him for romantic advice. He was so proud, Dick was growing up. Oh god, Dick was growing up. It seemed like only yesterday Dick had found out Bruce’s identity as Batman and had managed to bully Bruce into letting him become Robin. Now he was out there asking people on dates. The next thing Bruce knew, he’d be dating his arch-nemesis and going on a journey to become a ninja.

Wait. “You’re asking me for romantic advice?” Bruce asked. Bruce’s romantic prospects since Dick had been in his custody had been Talia Al Ghul (Dick had laughed at him, then asked if she could teach him some ‘assassin ninja tricks’), Selina Kyle (Dick had laughed at him, then asked if Selina could steal him the Rosetta Stone for ‘superhero detective purposes’), and Hal Jordan (Dick had laughed at him, then reluctantly admitted that, despite his flaws, Hal was alright). Why Dick was asking him for advice after his general disapproval of Bruce’s taste, Bruce couldn’t fathom.

Dick sighed. “Despite your lack of good taste, you generally manage to end up with the people you set your sights on. So I’m asking you to help me figure out how to ask Wally out successfully. I’m not asking you who you think would be a good boyfriend for me.”

Bruce supposed that made sense. Sort of. Unfortunately for Dick, Talia and Selina had been the instigators in his relationships with them. And with Hal, well. Neither of them can quite remember exactly how they got together, what they do know is that Clark couldn’t look them in the eye for a good month afterwards. Weird things happen on space missions, okay?

This, of course, meant he had no idea what advice to offer to the fifteen-year-old boy staring at him as if all his dreams for the future would come true if he did exactly what Bruce told him. It was honestly terrifying. Bruce was going to ruin Dick’s life. Or at least destroy all the trust that Dick placed in him. This was too much pressure.

Maybe he should give advice based on how he asked out people as Brucie Wayne? But then again, those ploys only work because he’s a known rich and famous playboy and nobody would say no to a few days as a billionaires sugar baby. Except Lois Lane, who would instead just steal his credit cards whenever he’d try. Clark had truly found a woman that complimented him perfectly.

“Well,” Bruce began, looking around the office for inspiration, or perhaps divine intervention, “Get him a gift, something he likes.” He’d given Selina an expensive painting once and that night she made out with him on a roof. Romantic bribery through materialism works.

Dick nodded, jotting down his words on his phone. Dick was taking this as seriously as he took breaking into villains' lairs, which helped Bruce relax not at all. Dick was counting on him.

“Maybe bring him to a romantic spot, or a place that has a lot of meaning to the two of you,” Bruce continued, thinking of how Thalia had propositioned him in the middle of a fight against some guy on a yacht. That had been so romantic.

“And then make sure you ask him out to a place that he likes,” Bruce closed off with. Like when he’d taken Hal to see the inside of NASA and Hal had nearly broken a multi-million dollar spacecraft. Or when Hal had taken him to an escape room and they’d uncovered a drug trafficking ring operating out of the escape room’s back room. Hal and Bruce didn’t go out much these days.

Bruce had become so enraptured in his own thoughts of his and Hal’s dates, he’d forgotten that he was meant to be giving Dick advice until Dick threw a stress ball at his face. Bruce focused back in on Dick, ready to face scorn for the very basic advice he’d given, only for Dick to look at him gratefully.

“Thanks Bruce, I think this’ll really help me,” Dick said.

It would? Okay. Bruce would take it.

“Anytime, Dick. I wish you the best of luck,” Bruce said, doing his best to keep his utter bewilderment out of his voice. His advice could have been read off of a wikihow article.

Nonetheless, Dick left the office in higher spirits than when he came in. Bruce hoped he’d never have to do that again. He also hoped that the advice he’d given would work.

Three days later Dick burst into his office, informing Bruce (who was busy sexting Hal) that he had a date with Wally that evening and could Bruce please, please let him borrow the Batmobile to pick Wally up. Bruce had kindly told him, absolutely not, and to get out of his office. Internally, he was celebrating that his half-assed romantic advice had worked.

Dick left the room pouting, leaving Bruce to disrupt his and Hal’s sexting with updates on how his child was growing up too fast, and asking if he should adopt another one (or seven). Hal, used to this, told Bruce that he should only adopt another kid if the kid could steal the tyres off the Batmobile.

Later, when Bruce would enter the Batcave, ready to start patrol only to find the Batmobile missing, with an ‘IOU’ note in Dick’s handwriting left in its place.

Dick was so getting grounded later.

#batfamsecretsanta2020 #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batlantern #birdflash #batman #my writing #ratspeaks

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comradelup · 4 years ago

Note

if ur still taking prompts, can i have 50 from general (“I didn’t know where else to go.”) with blupjeans? 👉👈 -ise

[TW: injury]

There’s a knock; three heavy pounds, then silence. Barry opens the door and a woman falls forward, like she had been leaning on it. She only straightens when Barry helps her up, and then he sees why.

She has an arm wrapped around her middle, and bruises littering the skin visible to him. Even when wearing a red robe, the bloodstains are visible and pronounced.

Barry looks up, at the woman’s face. It’s also bruised, and under the mask, one eye is blackened.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Phoenix Fire says, and she falls forward again, unconscious.

And Barry? He’s seen a lot of things. For someone who seems exceedingly average, he has a strange life, including being the one of the people whose life has been saved by local flamethrowing superhero Phoenix Fire.

She is… resplendent, simply put. Barry considers himself lucky that he is friends with her, or as friendly as one can get with a superhero. See, Barry has information and she acts on it. No one knows of his existence or his role in her work, but she considers them a duo. They’re coworkers, in a sense. It’s incredible to know that he’s making such an impact in his city, and it’s even more so to know that he gets to do it with such an amazing woman.

…An amazing woman that is unconscious on his couch. Barry doesn’t even know what to do, but his body acts on survival instinct, rushing to grab first aid supplies and start taking care of her.

There isn’t a lot of blood, and it’s all from random places on her body that line up with rips in the fabric of her costume. He guesses whoever she was fighting had a knife as well as a mean right hook. The thing on her side seems to be a broken rib, and it takes priority.

One wikihow article later, she’s laid on her back in a slightly upright position, which cushions under her back and knees. Barry has an ice back held over her chest with one hand, while his other tries to place a bandage on one of the cuts as neatly as possible. Maybe it’s because she’s here and she’s hurt, but Barry finds himself messing up more than he normally would.

He stops, uses her limp hand to hold the pack in place, and gets to work on the cuts with two free hands. He has to rip the fabric more to get enough room to work, and he feels a pang of guilt until he remembers that clothes are easier to fix than stab wounds. There are really only a handful of them, but the fact that the number is higher than zero makes him really, really upset.

He’s not dumb, he knows he has a crush on her. It’s the size of this city, but he doesn’t act on it. She’s adored, and rightfully so! She probably gets love declarations every other day, and she just doesn’t need her partner to add to that.

What he needs to do is help her. And he does that, carefully cleaning the cuts and applying bandages as he goes. After about twenty minutes, he removes the ice pack, and when the coolness leaves her she shifts, groans, and stills.

“Phoenix?” he asks.

She grunts, and her eyes— …eye is screwed shut. But her voice is forcibly light as she says, “Hey, babe.”

That too. Babe. How does she get away with calling him that? Moreso: how does he survive? “…Hi.”

She tries to move again, but Barry places a gentle hand on her shoulder to still her. “Take it easy. You shouldn’t be, y’know, getting up and moving around in this condition.”

She reluctantly relaxes, brow creased. Taking shallow breaths, she gingerly traces a finger over where her broken rib is. Immediately she flinches and winces, and Barry takes her hand and moves it away from her torso.

“Thanks for fixin’ me up, Barry,” she says, not letting go of his hand. She gives him a small smile.

He smiles back. “Of course.”

It lingers for a moment, with Phoenix just looking into his eyes and holding his hand, before she eventually lets go. Her hands fold on top of her chest, and she lets him get back to work.

FUCK. “Um. How did you end up… like this?” he asks, going back to his bandage application.

Her eyes stay closed. “Fightin’ bad guys, babe. It’s what I do.”

“I could tell that much,” Barry says, “Was it anyone in particular?”

“Nah. Some guys trying to mug this poor boy. I got him away but the guys ganged up on me,” Phoenix says, “They were just dudes, not like, a supervillain, so I didn’t use my powers on ‘em. I just sorta… beat them up. Knocked them unconscious and called my brother to come deal with them. I still don’t trust cops with things like that.”

Barry hums, nodding. Phoenix’s brother is almost like a celebrity, he’s someone that Barry always hears about but has never seen in person. How he “deals” with cases like this is still a mystery to him. Somehow he always makes sure they’re safe but properly dealt with.

“Mmm… you got a remedy for this?” Phoenix asks, and Barry looks over to see her pointing at her black eye.

“Oh, yeah, hold on.” Barry grabs the ice pack again. It’s not too cold, but it’ll do for now. He passes it to her and she carefully places it over her eye.

He goes back to silently cleaning and bandaging. Once he’s done, he sits back on his heels and starts cleaning up the floor around the couch, littered with first aid supplies. “I think I’ve done all I can. I mean, you should probably go to a hospital or something but, you know, you’ll make it through the rest of today.”

“Thanks,” Phoenix says, “I think I’ll be fine, thanks to you.”

Her uninjured eye is closed, so she doesn’t see Barry’s blush. “Glad I could help.”

She smiles. “You always do.”

And Barry doesn’t really know what to say to that. Phoenix says, “Wanna know a secret?”

A secret? “Sure?”

“My name begins with L,” Phoenix says, opening her eye to grin at Barry.

That’s… “Are you sure you wanna be, um, telling me that?”

She nods. “You can call me that, if you want.”

“Elle?” he asks, and she nods again. “Okay… Elle.”

She smiles, cheerful, and Barry feels the sappy feelings tailor made for her bloom in his chest. Her smile falls eventually, and it’s replaced with a tiredness Barry is sure he’s never even experienced, and he’s pulled too many all-nighters to count.

“I don’t think I’m concussed, so I think I can sleep, right?” Elle asks. Her eye slips closed anyways.

“I think so,” he says, “But do you wanna sleep here? Or go home?”

“I’ll stay here. I trust you.”

She trusts him? “Okay,” he says simply.

“I’ll need a new ice pack once I wake up though,” she says, “This ain’t my first rodeo.”

Barry chuckles. “I know.”

She smiles, one last time, then she lets the exhaustion of her day pull her into sleep. And call him creepy, or weird, but Barry watches her sleep. He watches the rise and fall of her chest, and it reminds him that she’s real, that he’s real, and that life goes on, no matter what.

#superheroes babeyyy #taz #taz balance #taz fic #blupjeans #anotha long one #sorry for the weird ending tho i’m in a weird mood #balance #barry #lup #ask #anon #writing #issac tag #sorry this is late dude. i took a while cuz i restarted this like twice with brand new ideas #i almost wrote a carmen sandiego au #anyway! i’m gonna tell everyone i’m going to sleep but stay up and think about blupjeans. goodnight!#injury #for bl

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nox-scrie · 5 years ago

Text

The Burning Devil

TMA5 Countdown- Day 1, The Corruption and The Vast

So... the trailer dropped yesterday and this fanfic is NOT really true to the canon universe but I don't really care (as Jonny doesn't care about me or my feelings). Also it's not corrected so I'm sowwy for this @pilesofnonsense . Hope y'all like it though!!

Content Warnings: Burning, Loneliness, Cancer and some kind of Madness

Characters: Jon "Jarchivist" Sims, Martin "Too Pure 4 This" Blackwood, Jude Perry and some OCs

Fears: The Corruption, The Vast and some mentions of The Eye

Rating: Teen and Up Audience

Setting: ~a month after the ending of Season 4

Word Count: 3585

The Burning Devil

The train almost reached London when the weird things started happening. Most of the passengers were asleep, the train having been going non-stop for the last 15 hours. Nobody even cared to look at the two men sitting in a bed together in a sleep car, one of the two shaking so badly you couldn't focus on his shape and the other franatically searching for something in a backpack.

The first light bulb went out as easily as if you blew a candle. One of the men started nervously bitting his lip, before abandonind the bag and craddling the trembling man in his arms. A girl on a few beds away from them, headphones in her years and a book opened in her lap, sent a nasty look towards the non-functioning light, and then looked at the two men as if she knew they were looking at her. She didn't say anything though, other than smiling in an approving way.

Then, the whole train shook, as if it was passed by an electric wave. Now most of the passangers were awake, some screaming in distress, others just mumbling about the poor quality of transportation in England. Nobody looked at the men that were hugging on the bed, and how something started... moving on one of their skin. A sigh escaped the trembling person as they started clinging to their lover's sweater.

"Martin." was all he said, and then the eyes that have appeared on his skin started blinking rapidly, chaotically, and Martin started feeling sick.

"I... I think I can find it, Jon. I really do. Just..."

"No. The girl. She has something to tell me."

Jon was looking down at the dirty bedsheets, rows of sweat covering his forehead, but the eyes kept staring at the girl with the headphones, who was now half out of her bed and walking the short distance towards them. Martin covered Jon's forearms with a blanket, but he could do anything about the eyes that appeared on his lovers' face and neck. He was hungry, and there was no other meal than information, trauma, pain and sorrow he needed right now.

"Hey... is your partner okay? It looks like-" and then she saw the eyes. The moment was imprinted on her face, which turned a ghostly white, her black eyes wide and mouth started opening to let out a scream.

"No." was all Jon said, looking at her with his own eyes, and the scream was stuck in the girl's throat. The eyes on Jon's skin started to shine, as if blazing from within. "Tell me... tell me your story."

A tape recorder appeared on his hand out of thin air, and Martin closed his eyes for a few seconds and signaled for the girl to have a seat on their bed. She did that, but Martin wasn't sure how much of that was her own will and how much The Eye's. He extended a hand though, and she looked at it, panicked, before looking at Martin once again and seeing.. something on his face that made her take his hand.

Nobody was paying attention to the two men and the girl that were sitting in a bed, prefering to watch the windows that were now cracked in shapes that perfectly resembled some eyes. Martin started feeling his heart pumping, fatigue overtaking his body, and he didn't look st Jon, he couldn't. Instead, he focused on the girl's face and clasped her hand with both of his.

Jon pressed play, and the eyes were rolling around and around on his skin, all kinds of colors and shapes, from white to blue to purple and yellow, from small to wide and enlongated. His voice was calm, collected, and it sent a chill down Martin's spine as he tightened his grip on the girl's hand. He hated the this, the fact that The Eye had so much control, the way it turned his lover into a puppet. Even though anger was building up inside his chest, he took a deep breath and focused on the story. There was nothing either of them could do now.

"Statement of... Alicia Jesper... regarding the last car race she ever took part in. Statement recorded directly from subject, the first of November, 2018. Statement begins."

There was a moment of silence, and the eyes focused on Alicia at once, burning on her. She let out a sigh, one of distress or fear or both, and she opened her mouth and started talking. The words were heavy, and being dragged out like this was like seeing someone be placed in a chair and given a handgun, so they can kill themselves before it gets worse for them. Martin felt his hands crushed by her, and he realized that maybe she was angry too. He hoped she was; anger is not hopelessness, he would know.

"I've always been interested in cars. Either in an aesthetic sort of way, or driving them, cars are a constant in my life more than anything else... or, they used to be, at least.

My first memory is me in the front seat, being held by my father. I remember how small my hands were on the steering wheel, and how he laughed, or caughed, because I was shaking and I thought that's what it felt like to drive on a bumpy road. I must have been around three or four years old then, and my father died when I was ten. Mom never recovered, and by the time I turned fourteen, sha has changed half a dozen of jobs and has given up entirely on at least trying to get better.

When she told me we had to sell the car to pay our rent, I revolted. It was not my fault that she couldn't get herself into psychiatric help, and neither was the car's. I told her, begged her, to try to get into therapy and finding a job, but she was hellbent. And that's how I got my first fake ID.

One of the upperclassmen, some person named Morgan Doe, was into this shady, movie-like, kind of bussines. They had a reputation for faking IDs and other documents, and getting their hands on everything you wanted for the right price. I took all of our economies, which were really not that many now that I think of it, and asked for a Graduation Certificate and a fake ID. They haven't even looked at me for more than three seconds, and nodded. In two weeks, I was a new person, Allison Jay, an 18 year old who was taking a gap year before going to the University of Manchester. I got a job of delivering pizza without even trying too hard.

Now I just had to learn how to drive. There are many... many Youtube tutorials and Wikihow articles that really do help, but I had to learn it on my own, my short body barely reaching the pedals. It was a long process, but luckily I haven't destroyed anything in the time I was learning, and the police never stopped my car, even as I knew I was not driving under the speed limit.

From then on, it was the time for jobs related to driving: I delivered pizza, drove people around, even signed up for Uber for a while. The tips were good, but I had to clean the backseat so often that the material started wearing off. All in all, throught high school my mom and I did great money wise. She was still a nasty thing, angry and... in pain all the time, but at least we had something to put on the table every day. And then she died too, and I was left with a three-room apartment and crappy car. I was finishing high school then, and after the graduation ceremony, I packed my things, burned up any remains of the name Alicia Jesper I could find, sold the apartment and the car and left.

My first sports car was won in a race. It was a lucky strike; I was with one of my friends, Mirabella Ashton, who's place I was crashing, and we thought it could be fun. We were both into driving, and my friend even participated in a few races, but I was a newbie. Still, when this drunk guy came to us and said that he will race for his car, my fingers started trembling and my brain was on fire, and before I knew what was happening, I said yes. My friend was pretty tipsy too, and they let me borrow their car as long as I get it back in one piece. I joked that they didn't even know me, but I was nervous anyway. I placed a few grans on the bet, almost all of the money I had left, got into my friends' car and tried to calm my heart. I looked at the other drivers, all of them young and overrexcited that they will compete against a drunk guy and a girl, and the anger that started in my heart was more powerful than any fuel you can lay your eyes on.

So I drove. And I won. I shared the profit after the first race with my friend, and with the rest of the money and the car, I left the city. And so my life of car racing started. It was not always illegal, but it was hard to make a name for yourself in a men's world, without college or relations to send you to the top. I lived the next decade in abandoned train stations and open fields, drank so much booze my blood turned to beer, and had the time of my life. It was last year, when the incident happened.

I was good at what I was doing. I was so good, people were started to call me The Burning Devil, and got out of my way when I came to the races. It's not a popular activity, with only a few true sponsors, and after I settled down I started to get to know most of the people that came to these events. It would have been surprising to not notice the new person who came in that awful day, all dressed in red leather and with ginger hair.

She said her name was Jude, not giving a last name too. She said she was a newbie, as if you couldn't see that from how she was too-casually leaned on her car. She said she wanted to race, and that she wanted to race me.

I laughed, a bitter sound, and told her I don't want to crush her dreams when they're still so young. She in retutn extended a hand towards me, a wide smile on her face, and told me that if I give her a chance I might just change my mind. I didn't laugh this time; there was something in her voice... it made me jump slightly, as if there was a small flame under my feet. She was the one who laughed, and got inside her car without wating for me to shake her hand.

I looked at my friends, at my family basically, the only people who have cared for me and helped me improve, and smiled an already winning smile. They cheered me, and Mirabella, who was staying at my place for the time being, gave me a kiss on the lips. We were kind of in a relationship at the time, but that didn't continue after the race.

It was an easy win. I had a decade of experience and a good car, way better than the one I won when I was eighteen. I looked over to the girl in red leather, and she was staring right back at me. As the signal that warned us to get ready was heard, she smiled at me, again. This time I felt the flame cover my arms, and I hissed. I remember thinking that I should not let her get in my head.

This race was held on a hill, as were most of the races sponsored by Simon Fairchild. We were supposed to ride from the bottom of it to the top and make an U-turn to get back to where we started. It was more complicated than one might think, having to control the car both as you drive on a diagonal line, and and as you turn on a small area of space. Yet, I've made this circuit for more than a dozen of times so I wasn't worrying.

It took me only three minutes to get ahead by a good few hundred of metres. I could barely see har car, as red as her clothes, in the rear view mirror, and laughed out loud, feeling one with the car, feeling so free and so present in the world... The top of the hill was right ahead, and I was already feeling the taste of the rum the others' were going to give me and the smell of Mirabella's skin when she hugged me. It will be amazing to see the girl in red red with anger.

I reached the top of the hill witht he right speed limit to make the turn. My hand was on the break, at ready, and just as I turned it it... wasn't moving. It was stuck. I frantically started moving the handle, the end of the cliff top approaching me hurriedly, and I just couldn't. I started unbuckling my seat belt, ready to jump out of the car, and then I saw the red car, right next to my window. With half a mind I thought about how could she have gotten there so fast, and then I started to notice the fire. Her whole car was ablaze. She was laughing, but I couldn't hear her, just watch the wicked way her lips moved, and then she waved at me and I noticed that.. her skin was dripping. Just like the wax of a candle. The last thing I remember before plumetting off the hill was that her eyes and hair have caught fire too, and that it was beautiful in it's horror.

And then the car plummeted off the cliff. My seat belt was off, and I frantically tried to open the door, but it was stuck too. I think I screamed, I must have screamed, waiting for my awful end. But I.. I didn't die. The car was falling at a constant speed, like a paper airplane, almost floating in the air. The sky above me was too bright, and the green of the hill was barely noticeable in my fall. I didn't move, out of terror that changing my position might cause the lose of balance the car has. So I just waited for my inevitable death.

It's a weird thing, knowing that you'll die in only a few minutes, and knowing how it will happen, but being useless as in making a change. I watched the sky above me, that burning blue, and thought of my father. He has died of lung cancer from working long hourse in a mine around my hometown. Mom passed away in a similar way, lung cancer, but it was a weird thing... she has never smoked, or been around so heavily polluted air as my father did.

As the car kept crashing, falling, floating, I felt it. I felt the air being stuck in my chest, and I started coughing. I couldn't breath. I couldn't open my mouth enough to get in some air, any air, I couldn't make my nose inhale, or my chest stop hurting, and my head started feeling heavy as I was coughing and falling and floating towards my own death. I felt blood vessels explode across my skin with ugly pops, my eyes glued shut, I felt hopeless and wished so, so, hard to just die already.

And then it stopped. The car was still floating at a constant speed, but the pain in my chest was no longer there. I could breath, and I did that for at least ten minutes before allowing myself to open my eyes. The sky was brighter than ever, and I hated it.

That's how I lived for what must have been three days. It was coughing fits and the impossibility to breath, it was me crying softly in the driver's seat, not caring about any kind of balance as I tried with all my might to open the door, any door, and kill myself to escape from that hell. The sky turned black when night begun, such as it did everyday, but even that was too bright, ablaze, mocking me in its freedom. I couldn't sleep. I didn't feel hunger, or thirst, either, I just sat there, watching, wishing to die, wishing for the coughing fits to stop, but none of my wishes came true.

When I felt something of that floating shift, I was just getting out of a coughing fit. This one was different than the others, blood having painted my hands now. That was the moment the car started falling.

It took only a few seconds. It took only a few seconds for it to get stuck in a tree around the other end of the hill, and for me to open the driver's door as if it was nothing. I fell on the ground and started running, expecting to be sore or hungry or in pain, at least, but I was feeling nothing. I ran and left my crashed car behind, as far away as I could. I needed to get on the road, to hitchhike to the city, and to make sure everyone knew I'm okay.

That's when I saw all the people gathered right where the race started, cheering for the girl in red so loudly I could hear it from almost a mile away. I stopped in my tracks; there was no way they could have been sitting there for three days, in exactly the same clothes. Uncertain, I walked towards them and saw the girl, Jude, with her arm around Mirabella's shoulder, saying something in her ear. She was not burned up. She was fine, her car was fine, her clothes were fine. I was not fine.

When Jude saw me, she smiled that wide, awful grin. I felt like I could cry, but I cried so much in the air that I don't think I'll be able to do it again. Jude thanked me for the race, and kissed Mirabella on the head. Her eyes were slightly unfocused, but she looked at me with an indescribable expression, before turning in Jude's embrace, away from me.

"And thanks for my prize, too." said Jude, barely above a whisper, as she turned towards the crowd with Mirabella. I could see that Mirabella's shirt had a hole on the shoulder where Jude's hand has been, a hole that looked as if it was burned in the material. It was the shape of the girl in red's hand.

I hitchhiked the way home. None of my friends offered me a ride."

Martin's hands were sore, and Allison's eyes were red, as if she has been crying. Jon no longer had the eyes covering his skin and he looked tired, not sick, as he looked before. The trembling stopped, and the windows were back in their original shape. Most of the passangers thought they must have imagined them breaking, or saw the branches of the trees in the pale moonlight hitting across the windows and thought they were cracks.

"Statement ends. Thank you... Alicia. "

"Do. Not. Call me. That." she extracted her hands from Martin's grip and formed a fist towards Jon, clutching her jaw. "I don't know what you just did, how you made me talk, but what I've been through has been hard enough without some creppy guy digging in my past and making me throw up all my trauma to be recorded on that stupid tape. Do you and your boyfriend get off on that?"

"It's really not like that Allison, we-" Martin started, but she extended her hand and made a fist of his sweater, threatening him now.

"Stop it. Stop it. This has been.. a very weird night. I will go back to sleep and when I wake up you two will not say a word to me ever again, not if you don't want me to call the cops. This night, this discussion, has not happened."

Jon let out a soft, unamused laugh, and nodded. Allison got up from the bed, clutching her hands around her neck, and started coughing. She returned to her bed with her back turned towards them, headphones in her ears, and did not move from that position.

"I hate when that you have to do that." Martin said, failing to hide the edge of his voice.

"I know. Me too. But it will be over soon, okay? It will be over soon."

They looked at each other and Jon sighed, placing a small kiss on Martin's forehead. He has been getting hungrier and hungrier in the past few days, but at noleast now they had a plan. Jon clutched the tape recorder in his hand and looked at the sky, the sky that was looking back at him, and hoped that their plan will work.

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inevitably-johnlocked · 6 years ago

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Hello! I was wondering if you had any advice for my scenario: I don't think I am anything but heterosexual (most of my crushes have been women) but I think I might be potentially interested in my best friend (to give a description, he's gay himself)? I dunno, I think about the possibility and I'm not entirely adverse to the idea. I remember even cuddling with him and liking it. I don't know what to do or how to feel. Any advice?

Hi Nonny!

First of all, it’s totally okay to be confused about who you are and what you’re feeling: despite what the media and bigots want you to believe, sexuality is fluid and sometimes it really is “straight with an exception” as cringy as some people make that out to be.

Second of all, I’m not an expert, so this is my disclaimer to say that take my words with a grain of salt; I have never had any serious relationship in my life, but I’ve spent endless hours consoling my friends with my thoughts, so hopefully that will help you

Finally, I’m assuming you are self-identified as a male since you do offer a pronoun for your friend, and given the context of the wording of this ask, it’s the deduction I’m making here.

Now that that’s all done and done: IT’S OKAY. Sometimes, we discover things late in life about ourselves *coughs* either due to environment or our own ignorance, and when we take a moment to sit down and self reflect, the whole world suddenly clicks. It IS a scary thing to think you’re one thing but as our understanding of sexuality continues to expand pretty much daily, the more everything starts to make sense. Lovely, it could be anything from just feeling comfortable around your friend to actual attraction. I think with men, it’s difficult to parse those feelings because you guys are forced to not engage in them because “it’s not manly” or “you’re such a girl if you do” (which I don’t understand why that’s an insult but go off I guess). For that reason, my heart hurts for guys because societal norms dictate that you aren’t allowed to discover yourself. It’s slowly getting better, but there’s still a lot of work to do.

So in that sense, Nonny, I understand why you may be confused and unsure, especially if you may have been brought up to bottle up those feelings or to not be allowed to self-reflect. I’m here to tell you: IT’S OKAY. Be emotional. YOU ARE HUMAN, and as such, we are emotional creatures. I’d rather you cry and talk about them than bottle up your emotions to a point where they convert into anger and bitterness.

So, back to your question after my little tangent there. I’m NOT going to label you, Lovely, that’s not my place, but many-a-people I’ve talked to mention similar feelings when realizing that they were bi- or pan- romantic/sexual, and only realized it later BECAUSE they were in similar situations or escaped confining lives that shunned anything other than the heteronormative.

Sexuality is a GINORMOUS scale that ranges from “not at all”(sexuality) to “very very”(sexuality) and there’s so much in between that, that it’s PERFECTLY NORMAL to possibly be “straight with an exception” if THAT’S the label YOU choose for yourself. I’m not going to tell you “nope, you’re bi, sorry”. That’s not my place. You know yourself better than some rando blogger on the internet, LOL. THAT SAID Lovely, I am going to encourage you to at least sit down and do a LOT of internal self-reflection, and reading up on sexuality on Wikipedia, or, just doing a bit of Googling I found the Bisexuality Resource Centre and I don’t know what its reputation is amongst other bis, but just like AVEN helped me as a STARTING POINT to understanding who I am, perhaps that site will also help you as you begin this journey. From there, like I did, you’ll find some terms and other books you can read and Google and begin to formulate your own opinions and understanding about you. Here’s an interesting article on wikiHow that talks about trying to define friendship from romantic feelings. And another one here from Psychology Today on Platonic love.

So, where does that leave you with your friend, then? I think it’s important for me to note here that it’s VERY IMPORTANT that through your journey, you NEED to also take your friend’s feelings into consideration; PLEASE don’t lead him on if you have no intention of following through. It’s very possible that you and your best friend are just SO comfortable with each other that seeking physical contact is y’all’s way of expressing your appreciation and platonic love for each other. Chances are good, depending on where you live, that he feels constantly on-guard when he’s in public and when he’s with his family, so letting his guard down around you is a high honour that you should NOT exploit. Cuddle and hug, there’s nothing wrong with that; there IS such a thing and queerplatonic life partners / relationships (my best friends have this very thing, in fact), and you guys could love each other very much and get everything you need out of a relationship without sex.

Here’s where it gets tricky and scary, though, Lovely, and it may be better to address it before it morphs into something that will irreparably damage your friendship. I think in this case it may be worth talking to your friend about your confusion, but don’t necessarily say it’s because of him. Express to him that you’ve been having some feelings lately that you’re not sure about, and you’re currently trying to learn about yourself and his opinions and strength will be valued. If he is your best friend, he will encourage you and be a shoulder for you while you navigate your emotions. He should be able to provide you with that “in the know” knowledge of how you can understand yourself so that you will be happier and less confused. Men so often don’t talk about their feelings, and trust me, it will be beneficial to you in this case, I think. Talking makes it REAL. Keeping it to yourself only internalizes it and can fester wrong conclusions.

Will it become awkward between y’all? Maybe, possibly, or not. The cuddles may stop, if only so that you guys don’t get your feelings mixed up with your friendship. But know that everything will be OKAY at the end of it all. My self-discovery journey took 4 years, so it’s NOT an overnight thing. But having someone you trust to talk about it, and to acknowledge it makes you feel more valid. And in the end, if it becomes something else or not, at least you know a lot more about you and about where you want to stand in your relationship with your best friend.

Now, I’ve avoided saying this next bit up until this point because the important thing to focus on is YOU, BUT. There’s ALSO the slight possibility that you guys got yourself into a Sherlock-and-John situation where he’s ENDLESSLY pining for his only-dated-women-since-we’ve-been-together best friend, and he’s keeping quiet because he loves you and your friendship is more important to him than losing you… which is why he allows the cuddles with you. IF that scenario is the case, AGAIN, you guys NEED to talk about it so you’re not leading each other on. A strong friendship will survive an emotional upheaval / revelation like that, and even if nothing comes of it, you guys will still be besties.

Bah, sorry it took me so long to answer this, Lovely. I was crying the whole time I wrote this because I’m a sap and it reminds me of my own “oh shit I’m not broken” moment. That and I am SO worried that your friendship will break, but you guys seem to be very close so the TL;DR version of this is: TALK. Honestly, many problems are solved with open and honest communication, and having someone close to you hold your hand on your journey will be a welcome thing to have.

In the end, this is YOUR decision to make, so have a think on it, weigh your options, and do what your heart feels is right.

If any of my followers experienced something similar, or if I have erred anywhere, please feel free to add your own, Lovelies, so that Nonny doesn’t feel so alone and so that they can know that everything will be alright.

#steph replies #my advice #life advice #friendship vs relationship #friends #chatting with nonnies #Anonymous #sexuality

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sammmys-writing · 6 years ago

Text

First Date

Pairing: Rafael Barba/Sonny Carisi (Barisi)

TW: None

Summary: Sonny finally gets the guts to ask Rafael out on a date and does so

Authors notes: ho- LEE FUCK THIS IS LONG (2,246 words uwu) also i wrote this at like 1AM and its not Beta-ed so please excuse any OOCness.

Amanda and Sonny being best friends is true MlM WlW soldarity

This is also posted on AO3. Read it Here

"Carisi has a crush, Carisi has a crush~~" Rollins teased in a sing-song voice once the ruthless ADA, (and Sonny's aforementioned crush) Rafael Barba had left earshot.

"I don't have a crush!!" The other exclaimed defensively. Ok, maybe he had a tiny crush on the ADA, but who wouldn't?? Especially with those fierce forest green eyes and the way they twinkled on the rare occasion that he laughed, or his pretty little "I'm Winning" Smirk that only showed up in court, but that Sonny would pay to see.

"Yeah and you didn't just stare at and flirt with Barba for..." She checked her watch "Half an hour" She snorted, poking at Carisi's side.

"I wasn't staring I was... being an attentive listener" He stated, hoping that his excuse would get the other detective to leave him alone about this.

"Right, so you weren't staring straight at his lips the whole time" She said skeptically, raising one eyebrow up. He'd seen her use this tactic in interrogations, but it wouldn't work on him, not today at least.

"I wasn't staring at his lips!!"

Yes he was.

"And the flirting?" She inquired.

"He was flirting with me and i was being polite. How do you know that its he who's crushing on me and not the other way around? Check and Mate" He smirked, crossing his arms.

"What ever you say tough guy" Rollins snorted before going back to her work.

~*~

Unbeknownst to either detective, Rafael Barba was in fact crushing on Sonny Carisi. Somehow the lanky detective had wormed his way into his heart, with his absolutely kissable lips, bright blue eyes, and those god damn dimples that would certainly be the death of him. But, sadly, Rafael was pretty sure that Sonny was straight, as he'd always seen him flirting with women at NYPD parties that he was encouraged (forced) to attend.

Although this knowledge didn't prevent his heart from melting as a result of Carisi's laugh or the way he was constantly leaning over things, giving Barba a nice view of his ass. It also didn't stop him from being slightly jealous when he caught someone else eyeing those long perfect legs, connected to that perfect ass. Still, he acted professional, he kept his feelings under wraps, he willed himself to look away whenever Carisi leaned over something (Most of the time), like he did literally every time Barba visited the precinct, and he never actively sought him out unless it was pertinent to the current case. He was slightly afraid of his feelings for the detective getting the better of him. His train of thought was cut off as Carmen entered his office to say

"Mr Barba, Detective Carisi's here to see you"

Sonny walked in as Carmen was leaving and he flashed the ADA one of those award winning smiles that Rafael couldn't get enough of.

"Good evening Detective, what brings you here?" He asked, not looking up from the papers he was working on

"Well, I was wondering, Counselor, if..." He paused "You'd like to go to dinner, with me" the Detective added looking down, which made a few pieces of his hair fall to his forehead, free from the grip of the hair gel he most likely used.

Barba for once was at a slight loss for words, he looked up from his papers and a slight smirk appeared on his lips, "Are you asking me out on a date, Detective?"

"Would you say yes if I was?" Replied the detective, looking up, his baby blues brighter then normal.

"Are you free tomorrow at 8?"

"Y-Yeah, I am"

"Meet me at DiAngelo's at 8"

Carisi smiled brightly and nodded, "I gotta go now or Picatso will get all weird when I get home. See ya tomorrow Counselor!" He said, waving his goodbyes before exiting Barba's office happily knowing he had a date with his crush.

Meanwhile Barba was rethinking all of his life choices that had led up to when he had fallen for a man who'd named his cat Picatso.

~*~

[Sonny days] roLLINS

ROLLINS

ROLLINS, I JUST ASKED BARBA OUT AND HE SAID YES??? I HAVE A DATE WITH HIM TOMORROW AFTER WORK

HELP

[Rollin' in the deep] i knew you had a crush on him carisi

[Sonny days] yeah, yeah, yeah, alright you were right, but still

Help

[Rollin' in the deep] with what? just let him slam it home

[Sonny days] thats like

the exact opposite of helping

what do i do with the date, like how

how does someone do a date

[Rollin' in the deep] ;)

[Sonny days] stop or i block

[Rollin' in the deep] ;(

have you told him about Picatso yet?

[Sonny days] yeah??

[Rollin' in the deep] and he didn't bail instantly? he must really like you

[Sonny days] hey, Picatso is the perfect name for a cat

[Rollin' in the deep] that is not a cat

thats a demon from hell

[Sonny days] he just doesnt like you because he can sense how much you hate him

animals are like that

anyway, back on topic, help please??

[Rollin' in the deep] Just, talk to him about mutual interest's or ask him about himself or smthn i dont knoW

I don't know man!! i havent been on a first date in so long

[Sonny boy] since you've been banging the lieu

[Rollin' in the deep] speaking of liv, Noah just fell asleep you know what that means

[Sonny days] gross

[Rollin' in the deep] ;)

get some carisi!! now i gotta go its time for some designated lady time

[Sonny days] have a good time rollins

and please never say designated lady time ever again

~*~

The next day at 8 o'clock, Sonny Carisi walked up to the DiAngelo's restaurant in a nice white pressed shirt and dress pants with a navy tie, not his work clothes, Barba was too good for him to wear his work clothes on a date with him, he saw Barba standing outside the restaurant, wearing a suit, like always. Sonny wondered what he looked like in home clothes or pyjamas, hopefully, if dinner went well he'd have a chance to see that.

"Hey counselor!" He called, waving to the hot ADA as he walked towards him.

Rafael smiled warmly at the tall blue-eyed detective, waving back.

"You're not late Carisi, I'm surprised" He joked lightly, giving the detective a quick look down, he dressed nice, better then what he wore to work at least.

Carisi smiled at the comment. "I try counselor." He chuckled, "Shall we go in?" he asked, offering his arm, internally panicking about this, he was trying to follow the WikiHow article he read on how to act on a first date, so far it was working.

Barba smiled again, "Call me Rafael" He said, taking his arm and the pair went inside, where they were seated quickly in a little booth in the corner. The date went rather well as far as first dates with your co-worker are concerned, they chatted and laughed, happy in their own little world.

Rafael was sure he'd just fallen even harder for the blue eyed detective sitting across from him. He talked with his hands lot, this was something he had never noticed before, when telling funny little stories of his childhood in Staten Island suburbia, he made grand gestures with his hands, whether he was explaining his sisters giant crush on his best friend, or how he fell off of the playground structure when he was 10 and had to be in a wheelchair for a month.

Carisi noticed how Rafael's eyes softened when he talked about his grandma or his mom, telling stories of his childhood, how he poured himself into his studies and go to college against the odds, go to Harvard, it was truly inspiring and Carisi was reminded of why he fell for the green eyed ADA. He was the most interesting man he'd ever met.

"My apartment isn't far from here, wanna come over, end the night with a few drinks?" Carisi asked as they exited the restaurant after dinner, looking down.

"Sure" Barba replied, after a few moments of hesitation. "Lead the way" He chuckled.

As they walked, they chatted some more, sharing thoughts about cases, the law, and ridiculous perp names that Sonny had encountered during his years as a detective, ("You arrested a guy called Dick Hertz?" "Crazy right?")

Carisi was happy to learn more about Rafael, see the softer side of him, which was just as hot as the snarky work version of him, (in Sonny's opinion at least). Meanwhile Rafael had learned that Sonny was just as loud outside of work as he was in work, which to be honest wasn't surprising and kinda endearing to say the least.

Once they entered Sonny's apartment, Picatso rubbed up against the pairs legs, seeking attention from his owner and this new person he'd brought into the house.

"Hey stinky man" Sonny greeted the eager cat, leaning down to give him a quick pet, before shutting the door behind them and putting up his coat, "Want anything to drink? I got wine, whiskey, tea, coffee, water" He stated, turning around to look at Rafael, smiling a bit. Hopefully his apartment was clean enough, he didn't have much of a chance to clean up beforehand but he thought it looked presentable.

"I'll have a whiskey" Barba replied, hanging up his coat and glancing down at the cat, it was rubbing up against his leg and trying to sniff him to make sure he wasn't an enemy. Rafael wasn't particularly fond of felines but Picatso (what'd the cat do to be named that) seemed reasonable, he leaned over, giving his hand to sniff before he gave the cat a hesitant pet on the head, Picatso purred quietly, liking the attention from the new human.

"He likes you" Carisi smiled, coming back with two glasses, one with whiskey and another with wine. "I think thats the fastest ive ever seen him warm up to someone" He chuckled, handing the glass of whiskey to Barba as he got up. Picatso protested the end of the attention with a quiet meow, he looked to his owner for more but he paid him no heed.

Rafael smiled softly, taking the glass.

"Come, let's sit" Sonny lead Rafael inside, sitting on the couch and motioning for Barba to sit next to him, which he did.

They sat in awkward silence for a moment, before Rafael spoke up.

"How long have you wanted to go out with me" He asked, Sonny looked slightly embarrassed.

"You don't have to be a detective to notice that" he chuckled, sipping at his drink.

Sonny turned slightly pink, and sipped his wine

"Its fine, it's kinda cute actually"

At this Sonny blushed harder, "A year or so" he mumbled.

Rafael smiled a bit, but hid it by taking a sip of his whiskey. "If it makes you feel any better I've probably been pining for you for longer" He chuckled.

Sonny laughed at this quietly, "Wanna bet?" he joked. "During the moustache or after?" he asked

"Oh god, please never again remind me of your awful moustache"

"I thought it looked good"

"It made you look like a cheap pornstar from the eighties"

"I bet teenage you would've jumped at the chance to sleep with a pornstar back then"

Barba just laughed, and Sonny laughed with him. Both men unconsciously leaned closer to each other. Sonny would never be sure if it was them being comfortable with eachother, or him being slightly more confident (due to the alcohol from dinner and the drinks now), or a bit of both that made him do it but he closed that gap between them after a moment of silence, by pressing his lips to Rafaels and kissing him, softly and slowly.

Rafael kissed back after a moment of surprise. Sparks flew between them and Sonny was astonished that the other would kiss back. Soon enough, the drinks were abandoned and Sonny deepened the kiss, moving closer.

That endeavor, however, soon devolved into Sonny kinda straddling the ADA and them hardcore making out, Rafels hands in Sonny's hair, removing it from the hold that the detectives hair gel had it in, and Sonny's arms around Rafaels waist, keeping the pair close.

By Sonny's standards, this was probably the best make out session her ever had the pleasure of being involved in, and judging by the way it was going he was hopefully going to be experiencing it much more.

[Rollin' in the deep] carisi how was ur date

did you guys talk wistfully about everything and nothing while staring into each others eyes

[Sonny days] that is the cheesiest thing ive ever heard

and me and my sister once talked for an entire hour in just cheese puns

[Rollin' in the deep] pffft

[Sonny days] getting back on topic

it was fine

normal first date stuff

we kissed

[Rollin' in the deep] a kiss?

thats nothing

tell me when u fuck

[Sonny days] haha

even though you'll probably be the first one i tell

[Rollin' in the deep] fuck yeaaaahhh

give me those relationship deets or i will die

i've watched you 2 pine for each other for too long, i need to know everything

[Sonny days] yeah yeah, ill tell you more tomorrow its too fuckin late for this shit

night rollins

[Rollin' in the deep] night carisi

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belaborthepoint · 4 years ago

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How I got my zoom crush to fall in love with me

I have no hope for the future. I have no remaining interests or passions and I eat nothing but refried beans. I am a ghost of my former self. I am finally convinced that the world is a horrible, violent place and there is no way out. The good thing is, I found love. I saw a hot person on zoom and I made him fall madly in love with me. Indulging in the charade of romance with someone I've never met and who lives in a different state and who has expressed no interest in me whatsoever has been my one source of light in this dark world, and I wanted to share my good fortune by passing along my tips and tricks for making someone on zoom fall in love with you.

The first step in whatever you are doing is to look at instructional drawings on WikiHow. When I looked up how to flirt with someone using a digital medium, there was a big X over a text message with lots of 'hahaha's and 'lol's so I knew that laughing was unattractive. Whenever someone made a joke in the zoom room I made sure to look extremely angry and I sent my crush a message that said "I do not have a sense of humor." To seal the deal, I sent him a video of me crying.

I was worried that my approach might be too subtle, however, when I read about drawing attention to yourself. The article said to wear more makeup than usual, and a hot outfit, so I pulled out my face painting kit and learned how to make it look like my face was like a rat's face with like whiskers and stuff and then I put on a sexy french maid costume. I knew that all eyes were on me in that zoom session and I was eating it up. Sometimes it can be hard to accept attention when everyone is attracted to you because you want them to see you for the person you are beneath that pretty face and also you shouldn't draw too much attention to yourself if you're not a cis man because it's rude and annoying and you're not entitled to that much space, so it's always a delicate balance.

The next thing I learned from an internet article is that you should always be carrying a hot liquid so that people will associate you with warm feelings. But my question was, how will they know what the temperature of the drink is unless it's so hot that you burn yourself? I couldn't think of an answer, so I realized I would have to pour boiling water all over my body, unfortunately. But this could work to my advantage, because I could also use this to draw attention to myself a little bit. I "forgot" to mute my mic, haha, and then I waited for my water to boil and start making a ruckus. Everyone waited for me to go take it off the stove and they were all like "mute yourself" but I pretended that I didn't hear anything for a few minutes and played coy in a fun, cute way. Then I "forgot" to mute myself again, haha, and clattered around the kitchen and dropped some china dishes on the floor and they shattered. Then I was like "okay, about to pour this boiling hot water on top of this teabag in order to make tea!" but then I pretended to slip on a banana peel and I was like "WOAHWOAHWOAHWOAHWOAH" and I swung my arms all around and then fell on the floor. But I forgot to spill hot water on myself so then I had to do it again, and I had to pretend like I'd accidentally dropped TWO banana peels on the floor, which was kind of embarrassing because I would never eat that many bananas in one day but I had to pretend like I was the kind of person who would do that. So then I did the pratfall thing again but this time I lifted up the tea kettle and poured the boiling water all over myself.

Then I screamed and thrashed about on the floor and unfortunately I had to go to the emergency room and get a full body cast for the 3rd degree burns all over my entire body, so I couldn't see how my crush reacted for the end of the zoom session. But for our next encounter, I put some of my sexy lingerie over my full body cast to give him a little something to feast his eyes upon, and I knew that he was loving that because he sneezed two times in a row, which I think was kind of like a secret code to express that he thought I was really hot even in my full body cast. Some people asked if I was okay and I was very sweet and modest and everyone liked that and found me very approachable. This was another thing that was a good tactic, which was to do something kind of embarrassing (slipping on a banana peel and pouring boiling water on my body) to make myself seem more relatable and less threatening since people are often intimidated by my looks.

When two zoom meetings had passed and I had received no DMs, I knew I'd have to step up my game. An additional tip I learned online is that you should connect over shared interests, which initially was a problem because I don't have any interests. But one thing I thought of is that what if I were inside his house? Then we would have the connection of being in the same building. So I flew to his state in a private jet to accommodate my full body cast and then broke his window and hurled myself through it. I used to do long jump in high school track so I'm really good at flinging my body up over things. He was in another room listening to something with noise cancelling headphones on so he didn't hear, and I had the chance to go sit in his bathroom. Conveniently, I really needed a place to poop because I'm scared of pooping on airplanes because I'm worried the gravity will push it back up inside me and clog my organs and kill me. Then I realized it was time for our weekly zoom meeting! So I thought, wouldn't that be so funny if he opened up his laptop and there in my zoom square was someone (me), sitting on his own toilet? That would be so surprising!

Before he got on, someone else said that it was indecent of me to have my camera on while I was pooping, so I had to turn it off until I was done. I finished up and moved to the tub. I thought it would be funny if during the zoom call I washed my hair so he could be like, is that my bathroom? Is that my SHAMPOO? That's funny! Unfortunately I dropped my laptop in the tub and it broke before anyone could see whose tub I was in. But he did have to use the bathroom at one point and he saw me in there washing the conditioner out of my hair. Unfortunately he was more angry and disturbed than charmed, and he asked me to leave his house.

An inspirational quote I always come back to is "it's better to have loved and lost." Margaret Thatcher said that about divorce. I'm someone with a lot of feelings, which is why I went to school to pursue acting and then moved back in with my parents at the age of 25 to wander the rooms of my childhood home wearing sunglasses and smoking CBD out of a long cigarette holder. Not everyone wants to marry me, but everyone falls in love with me at least once. And is it really a romance if there wasn't some drama along the way? I always say, you can't make everyone like you, but you can become an inescapable presence in their psyche for the rest of their days. My crush will never forget me, and for that I am grateful. Our romance was fleeting, like the art of the theatre. You can't hold on to it, and that's what makes it beautiful. Margaret Thatcher said, "you can't always get what you want." I think what connects us as humans is that we all love and we all lose. That's a universal truth. And truth is what it's all about. The beauty of universal truth is why I became an actor and then moved back into my parents' house at the age of 25 to wear long satin robes and listen to opera in the dark. My life may not be glamorous, but it is true. All we can do in these lonely times is to be true and honest and vulnerable with each other. Now is the time to confess your love. Now is the time to hurl yourself through the window of your crush's house. Now is the time to move back in with your parents at the age of 25 to wear old nightgowns and collect dust and stare at yourself in the mirror wondering what has become of the person you once were. I may not be a successful actor, but I do know how to love out loud and with my whole heart, and that's amazing. Margaret Thatcher was actually a mediocre actor in pornographic short films before she became the most famous divorce attorney in the United Nations, and that's what I always think about when I'm going through a heartbreak. I hope this article has helped inspire readers to pursue your own passions and take a chance on love, because that's really what it's all about. As Margaret Thatcher says, love is the answer.

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soccerdrawings · 5 years ago

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Why Is Soccer Dribbling Maneuver So Famous? | Soccer Dribbling Maneuver

DORTMUND, Germany -- Jadon Sancho lives in a abreast home overlooking an bogus basin in Phoenix-See, an flush development on the bend of Dortmund. He drives a white Mercedes, but he doesn't drive it far. He'll go to practice, which is about bristles account away. If it's hot, maybe he'll get ice cream. Again he'll appear home.

Start Kick Of Football Match Stock Photo - Image of kick .. | soccer dribbling maneuver He'll achieve in with a video game, FIFA or Fortnite, and delay for his clandestine chef to accomplish him dinner. It's a activity so bland, so foolishly anonymous, that you'd anticipate it wouldn't amount area he lives.It matters. Still alone 19, Borussia Dortmund's Sancho has emerged over the accomplished year as a absolute footballer. "He's an aberrant talent," Jurgen Klopp said afterwards his Liverpool aggregation absent to Dortmund, his above team, in a affable in July. "There's no agnosticism about the abeyant of Jadon Sancho." These days, he's admired as the best amateur in the apple built-in in the 21st Century; there is cipher adolescent who is better. The website Transfermarkt gauges his amount at 100 actor Euros. "He can be a very, very, actual important amateur in Europe," says Lucien Favre, the Dortmund manager.Axel Witsel, Sancho's teammate, goes further. "I've watched him advance aback I came here," Witsel says. "He works hard. He array goals. If he keeps activity like that, he will be one of the best players of his generation."And Dortmund? It's a banal burghal in the Ruhr Valley, Germany's adaptation of Pittsburgh. Hardly a day-tripper destination, it would accept absurd to allure a young, aggressive Englishman in any profession. But it's acute to Sancho's aisle because it isn't Manchester. Or London, Liverpool, Watford, Southampton or anywhere abroad in England.Three summers ago, Sancho below the befalling to bout North America with Manchester Burghal afterwards adorning his adventurous at its adolescence academy. The club admired him as a abeyant first-teamer about bottomward the road. Sancho believed he was there already, alike at 17. "I was continuing out, anniversary in and anniversary out," he says, anecdotic his success with Man City's U23 team. "I acquainted it was time to seek addition challenge."Pep Guardiola, Manchester City's manager, capital to move slowly. He proposed absolution Sancho analysis his abilities adjoin the aboriginal aggregation during training sessions. "You alpha the appearance area you bound with Kyle Walker, with Mendy, with Kompany," Guardiola said, advertisement three of City's -- and the world's -- arch backs at the time. "And again we will see what is your level, your dribbling, aback you are activity to comedy adjoin all the fullbacks in the Premier League. That is what we accept is the abutting step."It articulate sensible, but Sancho didn't appetite to wait. Crucially, he didn't accept to. Over the accomplished decade, starting about the time that Klopp affiliated the aggregation in 2008, Dortmund has aggressively pursued able teenagers, including Christian Pulisic. It was abreast to do the aforementioned with Sancho. "You could see how acceptable he was," says Michael Zorc, Dortmund's antic director.The Premier Alliance is admired as the best in football. Aspiring stars are declared to appear to England to accomplish their acclaim and fortune, not leave it. But rather than appetite to comedy for Guardiola, who had won titles at Barcelona and Bayern Munich and would win at Manchester City, Sancho absitively to leave him afore his chief career had alike started. He was driving, somebody said, the amiss way bottomward a one-way street.Dortmund isn't abundant added from South London than Manchester is. But it is in addition country, and it ability as able-bodied accept been addition world. "Going there was a actual adventurous move," says Arsenal's Reiss Nelson, a adolescence friend. "Not anybody would accept done it. It was brave."Sancho had never played a first-team match. He couldn't allege German. He didn't apperceive anyone in Dortmund, area he became the aboriginal Englishman to comedy for the club. He wasn't criticized so abundant as pitied. Was he delusional? Accepting bad advice? "When I larboard Manchester, there were a lot of bodies that doubted me," Sancho says. "Saying it's too aboriginal to leave England. It's a big club. I ability not play. That it was actual attenuate for an English amateur to do able-bodied in Germany."But Sancho knew he was accessible to go because he knew area he'd already gone.The Kennington tube stop is the one afterwards Elephant and Castle, branch south on the Northern Line. Topped by a metal dome, it has pretensions of grandeur. It charge accept looked absolutely august some 60 or 70 years ago. But the decrepit and crumbling concrete, and the straggle of bystanders on the artery bend in advanced of it -- one in a conditioning pants and a ripped jacket, addition in knicker-length trousers and a decrepit arrested shirt -- accord it away.

10 Ways to Dribble a Soccer Ball Past an Opponent - wikiHow - soccer dribbling maneuver | soccer dribbling maneuver This is Kennington, in the London apple of Southwark. It's area Sancho grew up, a lower-middle-class neighborhood, with the emphasis on the lower. Like Camden Town and again Bermondsey, it has started to gentrify because affordable apartment abreast axial London is adamantine to find.Until he was 12, Sancho lived with his mother and sister on the arena attic of Kennington's Guinness Trust Estates, red-brick apartments that were congenital in 1921 with a government grant. In primary school, Sancho would access home anon afterwards 3 o'clock. By 4, he'd accept eaten a snack, done his homework, arranged his gear. If his father, Sean, was able to beat by in his old Citroen, Sancho would delay for him in the parking lot. If not, Sancho would arch to that tube stop with one of his father's friends, who had been appointed for the appointment that day.- Lukaku on a mission: Win with Inter and prove Man United wrong- ESPN FC's Ultimate XI: We aces our dream team- Comedy ESPN Fantasy Soccer Driving from Kennington to Watford F.C.'s academy, which is amid on the far northwestern bend of Greater London, takes maybe two hours anniversary way during the afternoon crush. By tube, the cruise is shorter, but alone slightly. Booty the Northern Band adjoin Charing Cross. Get off at Euston and delay for the National Rail. Go two stops on a Midlands alternation adjoin Milton Keynes, again alteration to an Overground alternation at Watford Junction for the abbreviate hop to Watford High Street. It's a 15-minute airing from there. Leave at 4 and you'll accomplish the 6 p.m. training, bold none of the trains accustomed backward or got ashore in one of the delays that affliction London transit. "It took a long, continued time," Sancho says.Two hours there, two hours aback -- all for two hours of training with a Watford adolescence team. Watford had apparent Sancho during a affected it ran in Battersea, beyond the river from Chelsea's Stamford Bridge. Sean Sancho's acquaintance was alive as a communication amid the affiliation and the club. Adolescent Jadon showed up and afflicted everyone. "They accomplished he was good," Sean says, "and they beatific that up the line."The first-generation son of a Guyanese ancestor and a Jamaican mother, Sean, 45, grew up in Kennington. He never affiliated Jadon's mother, so he acclimated football to breach affiliated with his son. They'd occasionally go to see Chelsea or Arsenal, but mostly Jadon admired to play. Sean encouraged it. Football would advice accumulate him abroad from trouble. "If you're idle, article can appear and booty your apperception away," Sean says. "You've got to accept article abroad to do." Afterwards Jadon's abilities started axis heads, Sean started cerebration of football as his son's admission to a bigger life. "Without football, I don't apperceive what aisle he ability accept taken," he says. "I'd like to be optimistic, but who knows?"Soon Jadon was offered a abode at Watford's academy. "We saw it as the abutting step," Sean says. "That was consistently what was in my mind. Whatever needs to be done needs to be done." At the time, Jadon was eight years old. The academy had no accouterment for boarders that young. But the cruise from Kennington to Watford was too continued for him to accomplish every day. It was agreed that he would do it three times a week.On the added days, Sancho headed to the cages. Blacktopped playgrounds amidst by chain-link fencing, they'd been devised by contemptuous developers as a way to allot as little absolute acreage as accessible to burghal exercise. They've acquired into one of Europe's greatest manifestations of artery football. Amateur there are raw, unstructured, generally dangerous. Cipher is anytime offside. You alarm fouls at your risk. "You're accustomed to do anything," Sancho says. "There's no rules."More accomplished players are on affectation in the cages of South London than anywhere abroad in the city, maybe anywhere in Europe. A few accomplish it out. Crystal Palace's Wilfried Zaha developed his adventurous in the cages. So did Liverpool's Joe Gomez. Tottenham's Ryan Sessegnon and Chelsea's Tammy Abraham are two of the latest to breach through. "You appear home from academy and you maybe don't alike change your shoes," recalls Nelson, who lived a abbreviate airing from Sancho in Aylesbury. "You've got the brawl at your feet, and you apprentice what you can do with it. Activity into the academy, you accompany that asperous ability from the streets with you."One of the playgrounds is amid over a alpine fence that borders the development area Sancho lived. What passes for a angle there is tiny, no bigger than a basketball court. Alike 5-on-5, there's little allowance to maneuver. Dribbling makes far added faculty than aggravating to cilia a canyon through the drove of defenders. Sancho is acclaimed for his speed, but in the cages, dispatch becomes irrelevant. It's all quickness, a agitate of the arch in one direction, again dispatch in another. "You accept to drag your body," Sean Sancho says. "It's about the feint, like boxing. You get the apostle to second-guess."Because he didn't go to Watford every day, Sancho was able to get the best from anniversary of his disparate worlds. The abilities he acid on asperous blacktop were alike added able on a able field. "I was aloof freestyling, award means to absurd people," Sancho says. "You'd accompany aback tricks to the training ground. And not abounding bodies accept them affectionate of tricks at a adolescent age, so I would angle out." At the aforementioned time, the apprenticeship he accustomed at Watford fabricated him flash alike brighter in adjacency games. He abstruse how to accomplish a pass, and how to finer accept one. "You add that to the cage," he says, "and become a complete player."Sancho commuted to Watford for four years. Aback he angry 12, the club proposed to pay his charge at an aristocratic boarding academy abreast its facility. Abounding of the acceptance there were sons of adopted millionaires. "It was a actual altered culture," Sancho says. That, too, was allotment of Watford's plan. Sancho had brought his artery football commonsense with him from Kennington, but he'd additionally brought some of the street's below adorable characteristics. "My attitude wasn't the best," he admits. "That allotment of the 'hood was still in me. I was accepting into trouble, accepting detention. And one of my coaches sat me bottomward and said, 'We amount you highly, but you've got to accept which way you appetite to go. Larboard or right. Acceptable or bad.'"

Team USA Jovan Booker maneuvers the ball down the pitch .. | soccer dribbling maneuver By then, his adventurous had acquired into a asperous adaptation of what we see today. "Some bodies said I seemed Brazilian," he says. "I accept area they're advancing from. Because English players don't about comedy like I do."He had aloof angry 14 aback Manchester Burghal fabricated an offer. Moving there was his third journey. "The hardest one," he says. "Could I handle that abutting step? And obviously, I handled it actual well.""The aggregation sheet," Michael Zorc says. He smiles. "It's my best argument."He's answer how Dortmund manages to get tomorrow's stars to spurn some of world's better clubs and appear to the Ruhr Valley. "They apperceive we are not abashed to use adolescent talent," he says. "I acquaint them, 'Look at our aggregation sheets. You will play!' And not in a cup adventurous adjoin a second-division team, but important amateur adjoin Schalke, Moenchengladbach, Bayern. In the Champions League."By 17, Pulisic was on Dortmund's chief team. Aback Mario Gotze was 17, he was arena every week. Ousmane Dembele, now with Barcelona, had angry 19 aback he came to Dortmund in 2016. Jurgen Klopp's abrupt Dortmund aggregation that agitated Bayern Munich in 2011 had an boilerplate age of 22. "On 3:30 on a Saturday afternoon," Zorc says, referencing the accepted Bundesliga alpha time, "we about accept three, four, bristles players below 20." Zorc capital Sancho to be the next.One of football's best accomplished executives, Zorc has fabricated a advantage out of necessity. Dortmund won the Champions Alliance in 1997, a beauteous advance for a working-man's club. By 2004, though, it had spent itself into bankruptcy. If not for a arch accommodation of €2 actor from Bayern Munich, and again a acute vote by investors in March 2005, that ratified a restructuring plan, it would accept been alone into the nether alcove of German football, and afterwards the banking accommodation to return.Frightened into frugality, Dortmund has aback operated far added prudently. The home bathrobe allowance lacks the luxuries that alike abate clubs commonly offer. Players don't alike get a cubicle, aloof four metal hooks for their artery clothes and accessories. A board bank runs the breadth of allowance like in a sauna, with a rubber-covered attic beneath. If the beard dryers, which are assuredly installed below the baby mirror at one end, attending like debris from the 1970s, it's because they are.Even with one of the better stadiums in Europe, Dortmund's earning accommodation doesn't appear abutting to analogous that of the world's better clubs. Its admirers can't allow the admission prices that best of its Champions Alliance competitors get. About 30,000 standing-room places in Signal Iduna Park amount below €20. Alike the priciest seats top out at 60.Like abounding baby clubs, Dortmund generates acquirement by affairs players to the giants. The aberration is, it additionally wants to auspiciously attempt adjoin them. So Zorc combs the apple for adolescent talent. He hopes his discoveries will accomplish their best affecting advance at the end of their adolescence and the alpha of their twenties, while they're cutting atramentous and yellow. Again he'll advertise them to a bigger club at a abundant profit. These days, Dortmund's alumni affiliation would acreage a aggressive aggregation in about any alliance in Europe: Bayern's Robert Lewandowski, Arsenal's Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang, Man City's Ilkay Gundogan, Barcelona's Dembele, Chelsea's Pulisic, Japan and Absolute Zaragoza's Shinji Kagawa. Klopp took abounding of those players to the Champions Alliance final in 2013. And Sancho was watching.Sancho had annoyed off homesickness and raced through the Manchester Burghal adolescence affairs afterwards accession there in 2015. In summer 2017, administrator of football Txiki Begiristain offered a able contract. Begiristain affected it was pro forma, a done deal. Who turns bottomward Man City?But Sancho wasn't convinced. The world's greatest accumulating of assiduously was already angry for arena time below Guardiola: Raheem Sterling and Leroy Sane, Sergio Aguero and Gabriel Jesus. "The opportunity, I didn't see it," Sancho says.And while Dortmund was acquainted Sancho, Sancho had been acquainted Dortmund. He saw that Pulisic was arena regularly. He knew that Dortmund competed in Europe about every season. He hadn't been there, but aback he Googled the city, Borussia Dortmund came up as the top attraction. "I anticipation of it as an befalling to appearance the apple who I am and what I can do," he said. "I anticipation of it like aloof addition abroad trip. 'I aloof charge to go abroad and comedy football.'"

Visit to Buy] soccer training Football maneuver straps .. | soccer dribbling maneuver The accord Zorc and Begiristain adjourned alleged for a amount of €7 actor euros, with a article that gave Manchester Burghal 15 percent of the accumulation from a approaching auction and a first-refusal option. Dortmund gave him the aforementioned No. 7 shirt that Dembele had worn. "That afraid me," Sancho said, but it additionally gave him confidence. As a 17-year-old in 2017-18, he started seven amateur and came on as a acting in bristles more. His aboriginal ambition in any chief antagonism came adjoin Bayer Leverkusen on April 21, 2018.Sancho's progression has been so rapid, it's adamantine to accept that ambition happened alone 18 months ago. He added 12 added goals and 14 assists aftermost year, allowance Dortmund accomplishment additional in the Bundesliga, a point abaft Bayern Munich. Below Favre, whose abstraction of absolute football is Brazil's 1970 Apple Cup team, Dortmund plays a free-flowing appearance that enables Sancho to appearance far added adroitness than he would for addition German side. "We can comedy actual alive football because we accept players like Jadon," Favre says. "He can comedy short, he can comedy long. He can comedy with one touch. He can distill in advanced of the goal, he can use his head. He destabilizes the added team."Sancho is still learning, like any teenager. He makes mistakes. Accustomed to watching adolescent players develop, Dortmund's supporters absolve them off. That's not the acknowledgment he'd be accepting if he'd backward in Manchester. "There's aloof a lot of burden in England," he says. "The media is so adamantine on adolescent players. If you accept not a acceptable game, it's like you're not ready, you're not acceptable enough. Germany is relaxed. I anticipate a adolescent amateur needs that."Sancho played for England in the UEFA Nations Alliance in June. By the time he appear aback to Dortmund, he was a full-fledged star. "It isn't aloof that he fabricated the team, but that he continues to body on it," said assistant Thomas Delaney. "I would about alarm it a advantage to watch Jadon every day in training. It's spectacular. He does things with the brawl I've never apparent before. If I approved to do what he does, I'd aching myself."It's a quiet night in Dortmund. But then, what added affectionate is there?Zorc grew up there. He spent his absolute 17-year chief career arena for Dortmund as a axial midfielder. Now he has placed the success of the club in the easily of players who can't accurately alcohol a beer in the United States. In that situation, he understands, addled is desirable. "There's no nightlife," he confirms. "No distractions. It's not Las Vegas, not Berlin, not London. You accept to go 100 kilometers for anything." That allows adolescent players to focus on their football. If Sancho fritters abroad his evenings arena Fortnite afterwards the casual ice cream, well, Zorc knows he could be accomplishing far worse about else.Eventually, Sancho will appetite more, on and off the field. Lewandowski ultimately larboard for Munich. So did Gotze, admitting he returned. Aubameyang and Gundogan confused on to the Premier League, and Dembele for Barcelona. They were replaced by the abutting bearing of hot prospects, the brand of Pulisic and Sancho. Pulisic now plays for Chelsea, a accord that added Zorc's account by $73 million. As he was leaving, conceivably the abutting abundant American anticipation -- Gio Reyna, Claudio's son, who turns 17 abutting ages -- arrived. And hidden abroad in Dortmund's adolescence program, a 14-year-old called Youssoufa Moukoko is scoring goals by the dozen.Soon enough, too, Sancho will be gone. It about happened aftermost summer, afterwards Manchester United fabricated its intentions known. But Zorc brash Sancho that the time wasn't yet right, and Sancho agreed. In August, Sancho active an addendum through 2022 that pays him added than €200,000 a week, but cipher is below the apparition that he will accomplishment the contract. This division in the Bundesliga is about assertive to be his last.On this accurate quiet night in Dortmund, Sancho has aloof been called to represent England for Euro 2020 condoning matches adjoin Bulgaria and Kosovo. Unlike his aboriginal chief selection, aback he was assured to be called for the U21s, this one was a foregone conclusion. Actual quickly, Sancho has become the best array of botheration for England administrator Gareth Southgate, whose advanced band of Marcus Rashford, Raheem Sterling and Harry Kane will charge to accomplish room.Sancho is the alone England amateur who hasn't played in the Premier League. Until Kieran Trippier larboard Spurs for Atletico Madrid afore this season, he was the alone one not arena in England. But that hasn't bedfast his all-embracing advancement. "I don't see a abrogating at all," Southgate said recently. "Jadon's arena afore 80,000 admirers at Dortmund every week. That brings huge pressure. We appetite our players to be activity that intensity."Sancho concluded up scoring alert in England's 5-3 achievement over Kosovo. That set the English media on its latest aberration about which Premier Alliance aggregation he will be headed to abutting summer. In contempo months, he has been affiliated not alone with Man United but additionally Man City, Arsenal, Tottenham, Chelsea and Liverpool. He'd be accessible to the abstraction of arena in England but insists it isn't article he needs to do, not now. That's a point that Frederik Obasi, one of two South London brothers who represent Sancho, fabricated afore the summer. "Everyone is talking 'England, England, England,'" he said. "But why do they accept he has to go there? There are added leagues and added clubs that would additionally accomplish faculty for Jadon at this point."For a amateur on the bend of common stardom, atheism an action from one of the Premier League's top clubs would accept counterintuitive. By abutting summer, he'll be 20: a accurate England international, and one of the better stars in the sport. Why wouldn't he appetite to attempt in the world's best and best bread-and-butter league, advancing home as a superstar to a abode area accompany and ancestors could watch him? To go anywhere abroad would be to baffle logic.

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