#wow this ended up way longer than i intended sorry. i just have many thoughts and feelings

[joligarcon]

i cant possibly go over every single thing that bothers me about the whole hogwarts legacy debacle but one of the most annoying and hurtful things about it is the way cis people are seemingly incapable of Not making it about themselves and whether they are Good or Bad people for buying the game and playing it. like has it ever occurred to them that not everything in the world is about them? that maybe its not about whether they get to be Good People and feel like Good People or whether they are Ontologically Evil No Matter What? that maybe i have better things to do then to waste my fucking time and energy reassuring them that they are Good or convincing them that they are Bad? that maybe just maybe this is about the IMPACT of what they are doing when they line the pockets of one of the most notorious transphobes in recent history and help her maintain cultural relevancy by continuing to engage with her creative property? because yeah, when you do that, you ARE contributing to a culture of transphobia, and you ARE complicit, because JKR isn't some rando celebrity with views that happen to be problematic, she is literally using her money and influence to empower shitheads who have the means to strip us of our human rights, and to normalize their transphobia as well as that of the public who remains passive and complicit at best. and if me saying that makes you feel guilty or like i'm calling you a bad person, maybe sit down and reflect on it for a bit. because what you're experiencing is called cognitive dissonance and it's not my fucking problem to deal with. and if you're still going to play the game in spite of all of that, at LEAST have the decency to do it in secrecy and shame and not come begging your trans friends and acquaintances for validation that youre still Totally A Good Ally uwu because i promise you we don't care to listen to you justify why the nazi terf game is Fine Actually and that youre Totally Engaging With It Non-Problematically we really truly dont. trans people aren't the catholic church, we aren't here to give out indulgences. so either play another game or fuck off.

all of this applies to your jewish pals too btw, they don't want to hear about it either. because yeah, apparently it wasn't enough for JKR to be a terf, she also had to be a raging antisemite to spice things up!!

i dealt with cognitive dissonance and a LOT of guilt before i went vegan so it's not like i don't know what thats like. but you know what i did? i boycotted animal products instead of making it everybody's problem. i was privileged enough to have the option not to fund animal abuse so i stopped doing it. and i'm not saying i'm a bastion of animal rights and good virtue, quite the contrary. i know i'm not actually doing anything amazing by simply Eating Different Food, but that's kind of my point. even with just that the stakes were much higher than with a video game boycott- i had to give up the food that had kept me alive for 20 years. whereas with a video game there are NO stakes at all, you're not actually sacrificing anything by not playing it but yall cant even fucking do that. you don't need any level of privilege whatsoever to partake in the boycott and yet. it just makes me think yall are the absolute lousiest people on earth if you cant even bring yourselves to do 1/10th of the lousy stuff ive been doing for other causes because "but my childhood uwu"

it hurts so much because it feels like betrayal. or rather thats straight up what it is. thing whole thing sheds an ugly, ugly light on the pervasiveness of performative allyship and it makes me think the future of the trans rights movement is looking bleak as FUCK if all our supposed "allies" are willing to abandon us over a video game. a fucking video game.

and maybe some people just dont realize the extent to which JKR has a direct impact on the state of human rights for trans people and they think shes just a kooky problematic fave but i don't think that's an excuse either because we have been SCREAMING at you guys for YEARS about what kind of person she is and what she does so at this point if you're still not aware it's like, where the fuck have you been?

i just. i just cant wait until the day we move on from harry potter as a society and let it and JKR fade into obscurity forever. im sick and tired of having to hear and talk about her.

[outsiders-apo]

Hello again!

Sorry, I forgot that you wouldn't know what I meant by 'text'. I, and at least a few other voices here can see you like text on a screen. When you started being able to talk to us without Owen, it appeared like another screen option to click on. The text appears different for each person talking too. On your screen, you talking appears as plain black text, as does Owen on his. When we see you through the other's screen though, your text is red and his is orange. Rasbi appears purple on both screens. The text can be different sizes, bolded, or italicized depending on the tone of what you say.

The glitched text, however, is covered in strange symbols and glitches that trail off to the top and bottom, often obscuring other text. It is visibly very different from any other text.

Also, since it seems different for every voice, I thought I'd share? I do have a lot of other screens I can interact with. Hundreds of thousands, actually, and most of them I have never clicked. Some are text, like yours, and others are like videos. Some allow me to interact, and others I am merely a spectator. A lot of them are from entirely different worlds, or maybe universes, as well. Where the rules are different for life and sometimes even death is considered a temporary minor annoyance. On many occasions I have encountered multiple of the same person, too! In different worlds, and leading different lives, but unmistakably the same person with same name and face. Usually, they aren't aware of any other versions of themselves, but there are exceptions.

There are many voices out there like me too, I have encountered tens of thousands, even in just the 15-20 worlds I've seen.

Wow, this got a lot longer than I originally intended. Sorry about any potential information overload. -Purple Voice

Hey, Purple Voice! This looks like a lot, so I'm just gonna respond to it as best I can, yeah?

...Okay, first off: you see how we talk through text on a screen. That's... interesting. I guess I always assumed you could hear us? The colored text thing- that's really interesting. So I showed up as a separate application of sorts? Another page from Owen's? I guess that makes sense, as does the colored text thing. If I'm on Owen's screen, you guys would need a way to differentiate, as well as him on mine. So it sounds like the black text is kind of the default for whoever's talking, whoever's in charge? And Rasbi is purple. Interesting.

Woah, so if I STARTED YELLING REALLY LOUD, it would look different than if I were to whisper? Interesting. Really really interesting.

Oh, I remember the glitched text- that's what it looks like to you when Owen gets all static-y. Yeah. "Strange symbols"... huh. Is it anything like Vex Voice? Because I've noticed that Vex Voice sounds different from all the others too. Not static-y like the apparent "glitched text", but more... warbly, kind of. Like you're hearing them from underwater.

Oh! What it's like for you as a Voice! Yeah, I was always a little bit confused by that. You all seem the same to us, how can you all be so different? Some of you are ghosts, some of you are real people with real lives- it's a little bit crazy, the diversity among you. It sets my head reeling a little bit, I'll be honest.

"Other screens"... and you described talking to Owen and talking to me as "screens". Gotcha.

That's... that's a little bit crazy, actually. I'm guessing our screens are the text variety, from what you've said? That's actually insane. I can't imagine... hundreds of thousands? I have never... that's a little bit concerning, actually. That makes my head hurt, thinking about that.

Death as a minor annoyance? What?! That's... holy shit, man, that's certainly something else. Multiple of the same person? Are there... are there more than one of me? More than one Owen?

Wait. Holy shit.

Pastry Voice- I overheard them talking to Owen the other day, mentioning how one of his "brothers" had just gotten a "happy ending." Is that... is this what they meant by that? That's... this is a lot, but in a good way, a really good way! This is ridiculously helpful, Purple Voice, you have no idea. This... yeah, this really opened my eyes.

Wow.

That's... a little bit- a lot bit actually. That's ridiculously out of this world insane crazy.

And no worries about information overload- this was all super helpful. Thank you so much.

...

Wow.

[bugbastard]

This . . . Ended up longer than I intended, sorry about that, it's a topic I have a lot of feelings on as the son of an 80s-90s brand second wave feminist who mercifully managed to not fall down the "radfem to terf pipeline" by virtue of actually knowing some trans women.

It's so weird to me that people act like this is new. The "hateful feminazi strawman that incels made up", to quote someone from the notes, has always been a real, fairly prominent, and widely accepted minority of feminists. It's just that there's no way in hell that it will ever meaningfully impact cishet white men as a demographic, so, before the community collectively realised how much damage their rhetoric could do to *other* demographics, there wasn't much "need" to criticize it.

Like, I remember running into TERFS a solid 10 years before the wider progressive left suddenly pretended they'd come out of nowhere over night. You didn't have to dig deep to find them, they were shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the rest of the online femininst community. It'd be like 9 posts about cis men, 1 post about "men", by which they meant trans women, and because transphobia was more widely accepted, and hey, at least it was in a misguided attempt to criticize men, people largely looked the other way. TERF ideology is almost interchangeable with the bioesentialist feminism of the 90s that gave us "gender is a social construct" (as in, the gender "woman" IS the set of oppressions women labour under, and they are foisted upon women purely on the basis of their anatomy -- AKA there is no internal sense of gender, and gender IS externally enforced oppression and nothing more -- so weird that people say this like it's pro trans these days).

And you didn't even have to look deep to find the anti man sentiments? Like, noone was hiding it, it was everywhere, sometimes tongue in cheek, sometimes serious, and, to be fair, it's legitimately hard to blame anyone for for as long as those criticisms stay aimed at cishet white men, because like, yeah, ofc you're gonna be pissed and get a little bit hyperbolic with it, and lowkey kinda mean it. For as much as "feminism is for men too" was a line, at the same time, "yes all men" was a standard response to "not all men". "Not all men" is a deeply disingenuous line, wilfully misinterpreting men as a social class and some men as individuals to be a criticism of every specific man, individually. And people responded with basically"yeah actually that. I AM criticizing every man individually". And I could keep going; there are so many examples that don't sound like a big deal, and are ultimately so much less of a big deal than what they're opposing, but nonetheless betray undercurrents within popular feminist thought.

Like, incel, MRA, whatever ideologies are toxic and ultimately founded on misogyny and entitlement, but their stereotypes of feminists didn't come out of nowhere, just blown out of proportion. If someone's been criticizing a group, and you've been going "nah those criticisms aren't legit", but then you find out that there are people saying and doing all the things you've been saying "nobody says that" about, the reasonable conclusion is probably that those people existed all along, "worst person I know made a good point"-style, rather than "wow, some people decided to be walking stereotypes".

But, that's kinda been the MO for dealing with this criticism the whole time. "Nobody says that" > "Okay, some people say that, but not many" > "Okay, a lot of people say that, but they aren't really feminists because feminism is about gender equality, and hating men kinda runs counter to that" > "Oh, but, no, if course they're still welcome in feminist spaces."

And of course, criticizing *that* too loudly would historically get YOU excluded from feminist spaces, so you really just learn to keep your mouth shut.

i am not being needlessly alarmist when i say that popular feminism has become extremely radfem-esque and that the normalisation of negative stereotypes towards men needs to be resisted. like. i clearly remember when feminists were derided as "man-hating feminazis" and the main counter-argument to that went something like "we don't hate men, feminism is for everyone, patriarchy harms men too and our goal is to dismantle that oppressive system, this will benefit everyone including men, men can and should be feminists because feminism is a movement for gender equality"

in fact the major rebuttal to men forming "men's rights" movements was always that the issues these groups identified were the negative impacts of the patriarchy on men. they didn't need a separate group because feminism was for everyone and feminist thought and theorising already accounted for the ways patriarchy harms men. which is true! many of the societal issues faced by men stem from white supremacist patriarchy and restrictive gender roles and traditionally feminism has given thought and time to those issues. feminism is for everyone and it is concerned with men's struggles under patriarchy alongside women's.

but somewhere in the last few decades that attitude fell by the wayside and now popular online feminism is this radfem-flavored "all men are bad forever" thing. now mocking, belittling, or hating men is #feminist #praxis. it's feminist to make jokes about #killallmen. it's feminist to view masculinity as inherently bad and dangerous. it's feminist to talk about the men in your life like they're animals who need to be house trained, or emotionally stunted children who need to be babied and distracted.

it's this idea of flipping patriarchy on its head and saying that actually women are the Superior Gender, women deserve to run the world and make all the decisions, and actually it's men who are the Inferior Gender who can't be trusted or left unsupervised.

these attitudes will always have the most severe negative impact on marginalised men. i don't know how we got here but it's past time we circled back around to "feminism is for everyone".

[sergiovinazzi]

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Two)

2.9k words, rated E for everyone :)

Lando’s voice, amplified by the TV speakers, echoes around the humming Red Bull garage. “I’m fine but I’ve been better. I can say that I’m not in perfect condition, I’m not gonna lie. Some work to do mentally of course. I talk about that a lot, and mental health and mental strength is very important. I’ve not been sleeping that great and so on… not ideal and I’m feeling a bit sore, but I’m not the guy in the worst position after Wembley. I’ll work on it, I’ll make sure I’m in the best shape possible, and I feel like I can still go out and focus on what I need to do, and that’s the main thing.”

Your mind races as you listen to the boy plastered across the many screens revisit his experience at Wembley. He sounds awful; something about his cadence making it even more obvious that he is really, truly shaken up. The wavering pitch, awkward pausing, fumbling for words; everything about the way he presents himself is serving as a brutal reminder that being physically unscathed is no indicator that harm was not dealt. Even as the interview moves past the topic of last week’s Euro Final, you notice the shift in demeanor and your heart aches. You worry that bringing the watch to him is a bad idea, that it could prompt unbidden memories and disquieting feelings. You understand how big of an event Silverstone is from your dad’s tangents alone, especially for an English team with an English driver, so you reevaluate whether your decision to come was selfish, one made solely to alleviate your own sentiments of guilt rather than to verily right your believed wrongdoings.

On the journey to Silverstone, your dad had made multiple attempts at lessening your stress, even opting for variations of the if he steps out of line I will put him right back in his place father speech. Unfortunately fruitless, your father’s attempts mean you remain just as anxious as when you had first discovered that you managed to obtain a stolen wristwatch.

You’re not sure whether it’s the crisp morning air or your nerves that sends chills across your flesh, but your attempt to ground yourself subtly doesn’t go unnoticed by your dad as he passes you in the garage.

“Time is ticking,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips. “No pun intended.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to downplay your apprehension, but your voice gives away any and all signs of the false confidence you hope to portray. “Can you do it for me?” you plead.

“I can’t just stroll on over to the McLaren garage without an invitation or proper reason, especially not a couple hours before free practice starts. It doesn’t look good.”

“It’s not like me walking in there instead would look any better,” you retort, gesturing to the Red Bull logo plastered across the chest of your black polo. “Your branding isn’t what I would call subtle.”

“Look, the McLaren team are a good sort. They’ll help you out if you just explain the issue and show them the watch. I’m sure Lando will understand too, he seems like a pretty nice bloke,” your dad reassures you.

Sighing, your eyes meet the floor, fingers intertwined with each other as you fidget incessantly. Before you can speak up in further defiance, however, an additional set of footsteps grow nearer and you freeze at the voice which speaks up.

“Christian, how much longer until our media slot?”

You lose your breath momentarily, locking your gaze onto your shoes as you wait for the person to pass by.

“About five minutes, Max,” your dad replies. “We were just about to head over.”

When you hear the footsteps grow fainter, you risk looking up, thankfully being met with only the observance of your father. You don’t even realize that you’ve tensed your body until your dad points it out.

“Relax,” he says. “He’s not going to say anything here, especially not on a race weekend.”

Nodding, you feel your shoulders ease up but you remain quiet.

“Anyways, like I said, our media briefing and interviews start soon and we’re after McLaren this weekend so they should already be back in their garage,” he says, realizing that you still appear troubled by the task ahead of you. “I promise you, everything will be fine. Just go over there and I’ll meet you back here when we’re done. The quicker you head over, the quicker you’re done with it and we can all move on." With that, your dad walks away and you reluctantly leave the Red Bull garage, adjusting your shirt as you straighten up.

You take a brief glance at your phone, turning it off after you try one last time to keep the picture of the boy imprinted in your mind. Eyes darting rapidly, you attempt to scan the paddock for anyone looking remotely like him while you make your way towards the bright orange and blue indicators of the McLaren garage.

The frequency of orange-clad individuals grows the further you stray from the safety of Red Bull’s garage, and you feel your heartbeat begin to increase. Worried that someone would stop you before you could approach the one person you had traveled all the way to Silverstone for in the first place, you quicken your pace.

You’re mere meters away when you spot him. Pushing past a few people while trying to keep your eyes trained on him, you watch as he turns around to talk briefly with the woman next to him.

Huffing, you muster up the little confidence you have and tap him on the shoulder.

His confusion is evident and the blonde woman next to him does not look pleased to have been interrupted. The silence is palpable as they stare at you, expecting an explanation for the abrupt ending of their conversation.

“Hi,” is all you can deliver. You’re at a loss for words while the woman next to him seems to lose what little patience she has with you. Everything you had rehearsed beforehand, gone. Your mind is foggy and your mouth feels dry as you try to compose yourself. “Um, can I talk to you for a second? It won’t be long, I promise.” Your voice breaks at the end and you wish you had never agreed to get on that stupid red-eye to Silverstone in the first place.

Lando offers a look of sympathy and then turns to the woman next to him. “Charlotte, could you just give us a second?”

Pursing her lips and turning on her heel, the woman walks away, heading towards the mouth of the McLaren garage. She’s far enough away that you’re out of earshot, but close enough that you feel her gaze linger as Lando turns back to face you.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he tells you with a smile. “We can take a picture if you want or I can sign some stuff for you.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, mentally slapping your palm against your forehead and forcing yourself to get a grip. Idiot. “Fuck, sorry, that sounded so rude! It’s just-” you rush to explain.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” he stammers. “I should’ve guessed from the Red Bull shirt anway.”

You both share an awkward laugh before you compose yourself and reach a shaky hand into your bag.

“This is going to sound so weird, but I was online shopping for a new watch the other day because I lost mine, and I’m pretty sure I bought the one that was stolen from you. I didn’t know anything about it, I swear. I just...well, here,” you say, offering the watch and its temporary box to Lando.

He looks at you, taking the box only to go wide-eyed at the contents inside.

“I have all the information that I was able to get, but the ad was taken off of eBay and I really wanted to do the right thing and give it back to you. Please don’t be mad.”

“What the hell?!” he exclaims, earning a few looks from people passing by and catching Charlotte’s attention once more. “Sorry, sorry. How did you get this?”

Amused, you laugh quietly while he studies the watch intently. “That was my dad’s reaction too. Basically there was a listing for it on eBay and it was sort of an impulse buy,” you explain. “I didn’t see the news coverage of what happened until afterwards and I felt awful. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I genuinely had no idea.”

Shrugging, he plays it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s hard to miss his sudden change in attitude from the interview you watched moments ago and you can’t help but wonder whether he has your or the watch’s presence to thank.

There is a brief moment of silence between you both before he continues. “How much did you pay for it?”

“It was so cheap, honestly,” you say. “Nothing compared to the original price, I’m sure.”

Charlotte, alerted by Lando’s attention-grabbing reaction to being reunited by his watch, returns to where the two of you are standing. “Oh wow, did you find a replacement watch for him?” she asks you, clearly impressed by the apparent likeness.

“No, Charlotte”, he corrects her. “It’s my one. Look.” He hands the watch to his PR manager, who receives it so gently you think she’s afraid it might shatter in her hands. Flipping the watch between her fingers, she studies the small engraving on the underside of the face.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Lando nods. “It’s the exact date it was given to me, there’s no way anyone else could know that and make a copy of it.”

You feel the need to justify yourself to her. “It was listed online and I bought it before I knew anything about the situation. I didn’t even really know who Lando was until I saw what happened on the news, I swear.” You anticipate her anger or disapproval, preparing yourself to withstand the lecture you’re about to receive and mentally promising that, as soon as it’s over, you can run back to your dad and tell him you just want to go home.

But it doesn’t come.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims. “We all thought we’d never see it again and you found it on accident.” The smile she gives you sets your mind at ease. “Technically, this is a police matter now, so I’ll have to hand it over to the right people, but this helps us tremendously. Did you get any information about the seller?”

You explain the situation to her, about how the listing was taken offline but you have a printout of the messages and address the seller gave you, which you hand her from your bag. She lets you know that someone may get in touch soon to ask questions but not to worry, that it’s only a formality. Eventually, she asks if you’d like to watch free practice from a spot in the mobile hospitality unit, but you politely decline, explaining that you needed to get back to your dad in the Red Bull garage instead.

Charlotte smiles fondly at Lando and presses the brim of his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, you, we have to go and get ready now anyway.”

He takes off his hat, cheeks flushing as he makes an effort to quickly brush the curls lining his forehead, placing it back on and dismissing Charlotte with a wave of his hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

Once the two of you are alone, he pulls out his phone. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay you back, it’s not fair that you had to waste your money.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”

Lando seems unconvinced. “It’s really not a problem.”

“Seriously, it’s all good.”

“Well,” he continues awkwardly. “I have to go, but are you here for the whole weekend or...?”

You shake your head. “Just today. I’m not into Formula 1, I find it a little bit boring.”

“Seriously?! The fastest cars in the world and you’re calling it boring? Why even come to something like Silverstone if it’s so boring?” he feigns offense, doing air quotes as he imitates your apparent disdain for the sport.

Laughing quietly, you shrug. “I have family at Red Bull, so it was basically just luck and convenience that you were in the U.K. this weekend,” you clarify. “I don’t really understand Formula 1, that’s all.”

“Fair enough, it’s not for everyone I suppose,” Lando replies. “So who in your family works at Red–” The end of his question is drowned out by the sound of his name called by an evidently disgruntled, impatient engineer.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go, but, um,” he exhales with a nervous laugh. “I still feel like I need to repay you in some way. Do you want to go get a drink after the race on Sunday? I’m busy for the next few days but Sunday night I’ll be free. Only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.”

You laugh, appreciative that the nervousness was shared. “That– Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll give you my number.”

He types your details into his phone before apologizing once more, thanking you again, and rushing off into the garage.

——

On Sunday, you let your dad believe he’s the one who convinced you to stay for the entire race weekend, but it’s the promise of Lando’s company later that night and the endearing text messages on your phone that prompts the desire to see this weekend through. You had spent the previous nights on your phone, going through driver and team Instagram accounts, as well as the F1 website, to get an idea of what to expect. Typically, it would pain you to look through motorsport news pages, especially with so many of the reports centering around Max and his vie for the championship as of late, but you manage.

You notice almost immediately while settling into your spot at the back of the garage that the energy does not match your own. You are enthusiastic and eager, while the rest of the team is stressed and rushes around you. Presumably, it’s because race day impacts their livelihoods and paycheks whereas it only dictates your family’s dinner topics, but, nevertheless, your excitement refuses to simmer.

Unfortunately, if it was weird for you to be seen at the McLaren garage before the first free practice, it would be infinitely more suspicious for you to be lingering around on race day, so you were not able to catch Lando at all since your initial meeting on Friday. However, you made sure to message him good luck beforehand, to which he thanked you and expressed excitement for your upcoming night.

“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be on the pitwall,” your dad says, snapping you out of your whirring mind. He notices your obscure behavior, quick to comment on it. “Is it weird? Being here after so long?”

You nod, shrugging. “Unusual, for sure. So much has changed since the last time I came and watched, but I’m excited, though.”

“Well, it’s always good to have you here.”

Reciprocating your dad’s grin, you silently send him on his way. He exits quickly and leaves you to your own devices. Though, your own devices look to consist of impatiently waiting for the race to start and scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Ironically, your boredom with pre-race antics appears to create quite the dichotomy against the chaos exuding from the garage you find yourself encompassed in.

Regardless, your attention is regained when frequent cuts are made to the drivers in their cars, and you recognise that the race will be starting soon. You are temporarily startled when the cars begin moving without hearing an official announcement, but quickly realisee that it is merely a formation lap and no one else around you seems to be paying all too much mind to it.

When the cars return to their positions on the grid, you watch eagerly as the lights flash and the announcers begin yelling. You keep your eyes trained on the orange car towards the front of the grid, watching Lando so intently that you almost miss what happens to the cars in front of him.

Your eyes go wide as you watch the events unfold: the Red Bull car out front collides with what you identify as a Mercedes, spinning and slamming into the barrier. Gasps chorus across the garage as the screens replay slowed clips of the crash as an announcement states that the safety car has been deployed. They replay it from every conceivable angle, your astonishment at the severity is present upon your first viewing, but it’s only after the sixth clip that it clicks in your head that the person in the car is Max.

“For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen clash and tangle on the opening lap, but, this time, it is ending in dramatic consequences for the championship leader.”

If you had perceived the pre-race behavior in the garage as chaotic, this was a whole new level of absurdity.

People rush around you while orders are shouted and frustrations are verbalised.

Your dad is angry.

The last time you recall him behaving like this was when your younger sister had broken the wine glasses he had bought for your mother on their honeymoon. You, however, ignore his yelling and remain encapsulated by the TV, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the events unfolding finally, finally register in your brain.

Car number 33 is in the wall and out of the race, and your ex-boyfriend is inside, silent and unmoving.

____________

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love

[fics-n-stuff]

Home - Pt 2

For @glowstick-lesbian, request here

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

Summary: After Y/N finally gets out hiding, it's time to sit down with Kaz and talk through whatever it is that's going on between them.

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Brief talk of Jordie and Kaz's trauma and touch aversion

A/N: Wow this ended up being longer than I intended! I'm so sorry it's taken so long, I was focused on The Bastard's Shadow and Affluenza pts1 + 2, and then I started picking up more shifts at work and got writers block at the same time. I really hope you like how it turned out!! ❤❤

Pt1 here

After the very enlightening visit from Kaz, the days seemed to drag on even slower than before. The next two months went by in a crawl, and no matter how much you buried yourself in work you couldn’t distract from the longing you felt to get out of your apartment.

When your messenger came to deliver the news that your pursuers were willing to come to a truce you had been so happy that you’d gone straight to pour yourself a glass of whisky to celebrate. From then, you counted down the days until the meeting that you set up, the result of which should mean that you were free to roam the city again.

Inej had shown you how to get out of the window and onto the roof months ago. It was your escape route in case of an emergency, but you had used it every now and then just to sit on the roof and enjoy a taste of the outside world. That night, you had climbed out with intention and dressed in your finest coat.

You travelled over the rooftops towards the Government district, where your meeting had been arranged to take place near the Stadhall. The presence of the stadwatch would serve to protect you in case the deal went south.

You had been jittery with a mix of anxiety and excitement when you descended to street level and wended your way through the streets to find three men waiting for you at the Stadhall, all of them tall, broad and commanding. Barrel businessmen that you had crossed one too many times, and no doubt they had been angered that forcing you into hiding hadn’t put a stop to your business.

You were too smart to have not found a way around it; you had to be to run the business that you did. You owned three boarding houses and two bars in the Barrel and two ships that brought in imports from Ravka and Novyi Zem, a squaller as a permanent fixture on the crew of each to whom you paid a fair salary. You’d had Kaz put them under the protection of the Dregs to keep them safe from slavers. On top of all of that, you used your contacts in Ravka, Novyi Zem and other parts of Kerch to help get kids out of the Barrel and into honest work elsewhere. You might operate from the criminal underbelly of Ketterdam, but you made a mostly honest living.

The meeting took longer than you had anticipated. The three men were eager to negotiate territories that you couldn’t conduct business in and items that they didn’t want you to import because it was cutting into their own business. You held firm, you knew what was fair and you would be damned if you let anyone bully you into submission.

In the end, you essentially just agreed not to get in their way, which was easy enough to do. You wouldn’t actively compete with them in the sale of imported goods, and you wouldn’t try to convince any of the lads that they used as runners and grunts to get out of the Barrel. As long as you kept your distance from them you’d be fine, since they were clearly tired of chasing after you.

“Alright then, the deal is the deal.” You said, holding out your hand. All three shook hands with you in turn, echoing the phrase as was customary. When the man in the middle – clearly the leader and the last to shake with you – took your hand, you tightened your grip and leaned forward. “If you try to cheat me after this deal, you will have Dirtyhands to answer to.” You said lowly. He tried not to show his reaction but the fear in his eyes betrayed him, and you released his hand. It wasn’t often that you involved Kaz and his reputation in your affairs, but sometimes it paid to be friends with the most ruthless man in Ketterdam.

You left the meeting with your head held high and took a gondel back to the Barrel. You were approached by a few people who stayed in one of your boarding houses or drank in one of your bars on your walk to the Crow Club, telling you that they had been curious or worried about having not seen you around for so long. You didn’t engage in any conversation beyond polite acknowledgment, too eager to get to the Crow Club.

Inej was the only one that knew that you were getting out tonight. You had told her when she had come to deliver your food for the week and she had promised to try and keep everyone corralled at the Crow Club so that you could make a big entrance, but the later it got the less likely it was that she could keep them all there without raising suspicion.

You practically ran down the last street towards the Crow Club, bursting through the open door and searching the crowd for your friends. Jesper caught sight of you at the same moment that you spotted them all at the bar, and you saw his jaw drop in shock. A huge grin spread on your face as he set his drink down, his sudden change in demeanor getting the attention of the rest of the group and causing them to turn to follow his gaze.

“Y/N?” Jesper called, prompting you into as much of a sprint as you could manage across the crowded floor of the gambling hall. You vaulted yourself into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his lanky frame. “You’re back! How?” He exclaimed, and you laughed as you felt him hug you back and sweep you off of your feet.

“I had a meeting to call a truce. As of tonight I am a free person!”

“We missed you so much!” Nina grinned, prying Jesper’s arms off of you so that she could pull into a hug herself. “Why didn’t you tell us that you were finally coming out of hiding?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” You grinned, pulling away so that you could move to hug Wylan next. “I missed you guys so much too, you have no idea.” You caught sight of Kaz over Wylan’s shoulder, his eyes wide as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. You pointed your smile at him and his lips twitched upwards before he cooled his expression and gave you a simple nod.

Your reunion was spirited to say the least, even Matthias couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you were back. You made them tell you about all of the most significant things that you had missed in the year that you had been trapped inside and update you on any power shifts between the Barrel gangs. Jesper wouldn’t shut up, Wylan was excited to tell you about all of the new explosives and weapons that he had developed, and Nina was making a list of places that she wanted to get lunch together to make up for lost time. It felt amazing to be with them all again.

“Okay! I want to play a few hands of Three Man Bramble before I go.” You announced, pushing your glass away from you after downing the last of its contents.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” Jesper grinned, slinging an arm around your shoulder and guiding you to a table.

It seemed apt that fortune seemed to be in your favour, winning so consistently that you continued to play even though you knew that you shouldn’t. It felt like every time that you looked up from the table you caught Kaz watching you, and his unashamed gaze made your heart flutter.

After a while you saw him give a slight nod towards the door, an action that meant that it was time to go, and you tucked you lip between you teeth as you gave a subtle nod back and turned your attention back to your cards.

“Unbelievable!” Jesper exclaimed upon seeing that you had won again. “I guess you’re catching up on a year’s worth of luck.”

“Perhaps, but I’m going to quit while I’m ahead.” You smiled, gathering up your winnings. “I need to go and breathe some more fresh air.” You pocketed half of your winnings and pushed the other half around the table to Jesper. “Not too much fun.”

“There’s no such thing as too much fun.” He beamed and pulled you to him so that he could plant a kiss on your cheek. “Good to have you back, Y/N.”

“Good to be back, Jes.” You winked before bounding back to the bar to say goodbye to the rest of your friends. Kaz had already disappeared, no doubt in an attempt to avoid drawing attention to the fact that you were leaving together.

“We’re going to get waffles tomorrow. I will break your door down if I have to.” Nina asserted, practically crushing your ribs in a hug. “Inej, you’re coming too.”

“What about me?” Wylan pouted, and you laughed.

“Everyone’s invited.” You replied, holding his face and turning it towards you so that you could press a soft kiss on his forehead before pulling him in for a hug. “I just got out, I want to spend time with you all!”

You kept your hug with Inej pretty short, considerate of the bad feelings that too much contact could stir up in her, and even managed to coax a hug from Matthias before you headed out. Kaz was waiting not far from the entrance and you smiled as you quickly made your way towards him

“Hey.” You chirped.

“You wanted it to be a surprise, huh?” He questioned, starting towards the Slat. You chuckled.

“I know you’re not a big fan of surprises, Kaz, but I thought this might be a fun one. Why? Were you offended that I told Inej and not you?”

“Did you have anyone go with you to your meeting?”

“No, I didn’t need any backup.”

“Things could have gone badly, and you didn’t tell anyone about it.”

“Well things didn’t go badly.” You rebutted. “I’m here, I’m fine, and I surprised you all.”

“You shouldn’t put yourself in danger like that.” Kaz said flatly, ignoring your point, and you groaned loudly at his stubbornness.

“If it makes you feel better, I made sure to drop your name in to intimidate them. But I can handle my own business.”

You hopped along the cobblestones playfully, irrationally happy to be back out on the filthy and foul smelling streets of the Barrel, but even the stink couldn’t dampen your joy at finally being free. You were sure that you and Kaz probably looked like a bizarre pair walking together now, him with his stoic exterior and identifying limp next to your childlike joy, though you had taken after him fashion wise with your smart attire and well-fitted, black coat.

Walking back to the Slat with Kaz took you in the opposite direction to your home – now that you were out of hiding you could finally return to where you actually lived in a house on the boundary of East Stave and the Zelver District – but you wanted to talk to Kaz, and he wouldn’t have asked you to leave with him if he didn’t want to talk to you too. Nevertheless, you continued the rest of the walk in silence.

When you got to the Slat, Kaz continued straight up to his room while you lingered on the ground floor to say hello to some of the Dregs that you were more friendly with. The noise of the Slat was unfamiliar to you after so long, but you had kind of missed the rowdiness of it.

You followed upstairs shortly after. Kaz had left his door ajar for you and you could see him sat at his desk through the opening.

“Shut the door behind you.” He said as you slipped inside, and you heard the door click as you push it shut after yourself.

“You wanna talk to me?” You questioned, walking over to lean on the side of the desk casually. “Or did you just want some time to look at my gorgeous face?” He did look up at you then, his eyes darting around to take in the entirety of your face, and you felt your heart flutter.

“How did your meeting go? What deals did you make?” He asked. You sighed. It wasn’t new that Kaz was asking about your business, he liked to know about what you were doing the same way that he liked to know about literally everything else, but you had hoped that this conversation would be a little less mundane than that. You had hoped that he might express an iota of joy that you were back.

“I can’t dock my ships in 3rd Harbour anymore.” You shrugged. “So I’ll stick to 2nd for imports going into the morning market, mostly 5th for everything else. There’s a few streets that I need to keep my business off of, and obviously I can’t try and undermine their operations anymore. That doesn’t mean that I won’t, it just means that I’ll be smarter about not getting caught.”

“And what do you get from them?”

“They leave me alone. I don’t need more than that. I mean, their terms are hardly going to impede my business anyway.”

“And your insurance?”

“You.” You smiled sweetly. “Very few people are bold enough to cross someone that has Kaz Brekker on side.”

“I thought you prided yourself on running an honest business.”

“I do. My association with you doesn’t make my business any less legit. I’m more honest than most of the Merchant Council anyway.”

“That’s fair.” He conceded with a slight nod.

Kaz had visited you a few times since the night that you had both let on about how much you cared about each other, but you hadn’t talked about it. It felt like the tension between you had been building and building like an elastic band ready to snap. It was driving you crazy.

“Anything else that you want to talk about?” You hinted. Kaz let out a long breath, his eyes sliding away from you for a moment. You could tell that he wanted to talk about it but he was struggling to get it out. “Because you haven’t told me that you’re glad I’m back yet.”

“I am glad that you’re back.” He affirmed, then he took a hard swallow. “We all missed you.” You smiled brightly at that.

You could hear the crows moving around on the half-roof outside of Kaz’s window and crossed the room to perch on the windowsill. There hadn’t been anywhere for the birds to land in the apartment that you had been cooped up in.

“Can I stay here for a while? I don’t want to be alone again just yet.” You said softly, tucking one knee up against your chest as you watched the birds through the glass.

“Sure.” Kaz answered.

You sat in silence for a while after that, which wasn’t unusual for you two. Before you had gone into hiding, you had spent many evenings with Kaz in his office just like this. Tonight felt different though. Something had opened between the two of you and now you couldn’t close it. The feeling permeated every corner of the room until you felt like you might explode if you didn’t break this silence, but, to your surprise, Kaz spoke first.

“I’ve been thinking about that day that I saw you outside the Crow Club.”

“Why?” You asked, blinking in surprise. Kaz was still facing forward at his desk, back turned to you, but his pen had stilled over the page.

“I watched you for a while, deciding whether to chase you off or recruit you for the Dregs.” He continued, ignoring your question. You were used to that too. “You were good at pickpocketing – you could spot a good mark, distracted them by pretending to beg for pennies – but you stayed in one place for too long.”

“I know, you told me at the time.” You smiled amusedly.

“I was just planning on telling you exactly that, but after I got your attention and you looked at me I knew that I had seen you before. It was in your eyes.” He turned around to look at you then, his gaze finding yours immediately. “Your eyes never changed.”

Kaz’s eyes had. Maybe that was why you hadn’t recognised him. Kaz Rietveld had eyes full of wonder and warmth, that were curious about everything and shone when he was happy. Kaz Brekker's eyes were cold, they held secrets. The curiosity had become analytical, and the shine had turned into a devious glint. Kaz Rietveld didn’t exist anymore, the R tattoo on Kaz’s bicep was the only relic of him, and you were the only one left to remember him.

“Crows remember the faces of those that are kind.” He finished softly.

“And that’s why you took me in? Because I was kind?”

“Because we were friends. We are friends.”

“Just friends?” You murmured, a challenge in your eyes. It wasn’t a provoking challenge, more of an encouraging one. You wanted to know where he stood and you wanted him to be able to tell you. He was silent for a long stretch.

“Would we ever be able to be more?” He asked. You knew what he meant. Kaz had built up so many walls that he didn’t know how to let down, and he knew that about himself. It was how he had survived, but it was a way of being that wasn’t very conducive to relationships. He didn’t think that he could do it.

“That depends on you.” You answered with a soft smile. “Because I’m not looking anywhere else.” Kaz swallowed and looked away quickly, but you swore that you had seen a hint of a blush in his cheeks.

A knock came at the door, and you cursed whoever was on the other side in your head.

“What is it?” Kaz called.

“There’s a man downstairs says he has a job for you.” Specht’s voice came through the wood. “Won’t talk to no one else but you.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Kaz replied, then muttered something under his breath bitterly. You heard the creak of Specht's retreating footsteps and Kaz turned to you. “Will you wait until I get back?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You watched Kaz leave the room and let out a long sigh once the door had closed behind him. You were finally talking about whatever it was that was between the two of you and you just had to get interrupted.

You shed your coat, dropping it lazily on the floor next to you, and rolled up your shirt sleeves. Despite the pressure put on you from some members of the Dregs, you had never gotten the crow and cup tattoo on your forearm. You had known from the start that you didn’t want to belong to the gang, no matter how thankful you were for the help that Kaz had given you.

When you had realised who it really was that had approached you that night outside the Crow Club, you had been shocked. He knew your name when he spoke to you, though he had seemed unsure of it, and you had furrowed your brow and asked if you knew him.

“It’s Kaz.” He had said, and you had blinked.

“Kaz Rietveld?” You had whispered in disbelief. His jaw had clenched, his shoulders stiffened.

“That’s not my name anymore.” He snapped. “It’s Kaz Brekker now.”

When you asked him why he had changed his name he had simply told you that it was easier that way. When you asked him about why he was in Ketterdam he had answered that his father had died and they had sold the farm. When you asked about Jodie he didn’t answer.

He had walked you to the Slat, told you not to talk to anyone, and brought you up to this very room. You had trusted him enough to follow. Despite his proud presence in the Barrel, despite the fact that he was walking you into the den of a gang, despite the fact that he was almost unrecognisable from the Kaz that you knew as a child, you had trusted him. And in the years that followed, he had never broken that trust.

He had helped you pay for the first boarding house that you purchased, come with you to the bank when you took out the loan to buy your first ship, had come to the harbour to see you off the first time that you had gone to Ravka.

Kaz had once reminded you of something from your childhood while around the other Crows, and once it had slipped that you and Kaz had been friends when you were young, people were constantly asking you about what he had been like. He never told anybody anything about himself and people had been eager to find a source of information on him, but most people had quickly come to realise that you weren’t going to say anything either. Kaz had never thanked you for your discretion, but you knew that he was glad for it.

If you were honest with yourself, you had found yourself drawn to him ever since you got your first glimpse through his cold and uncaring exterior and saw his loyal and protective nature. The pull had only grown since.

Your thoughts were broken by the sound of the door opening, and you looked over to watch Kaz enter. The door clicked shut behind him and he moved to the wash basin directly across the room from the window that you were sat in, set down his cane and pulled off his gloves .

“A good job?” You asked. He shrugged.

“A job that I’ll do.” He answered and began unbuttoning his shirt. You tried not ogle as he pulled it off and picked up the washcloth from the basin, but you caught sight of a reddened stripe of raised skin across his side and furrowed your brows.

“When did that happen?”

“A few days ago.”

“How deep did it go?”

“Not too deep.”

“It doesn’t look like you stitched it up properly.”

“It’s fine.” He dismissed. You rolled your eyes and got up from the window ledge. Kaz never took proper care of himself but he was always too stubborn to admit it.

“Let me see.”

“I said it’s fine, Y/N-"

“Kaz.” You interrupted sternly, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “I said let me see.” He held your gaze for a moment before letting out a huff and raising his arm so that you could get a better view of the wound.

You kept your distance as you looked over the injury, but you could clearly see that the stitches were sloppy on the end of the gash towards his back; the side that he couldn’t reach easily himself.

“You’re keeping it clean?”

“I know how to treat a wound.” He grumbled.

“I know that you know how, that doesn’t mean that I actually trust you to do it. You didn’t even have it bandaged or anything, what if it gets infected?”

“It won’t, Y/N, stop worrying so much.”

“Well, if you’re not going to worry about yourself then somebody else has to.” You exasperated. “At least bandage it.” You didn’t wait for a reply before you crossed over to the cabinet where he kept his impressive stock of medical supplies and grabbed a roll of gauze. Kaz caught it grudgingly when you tossed it to him and set it to the side while he finished washing his torso.

“You worry too much.” He muttered.

“It’s good for you.” You smiled.

You watched him as he unrolled the gauze and wrapped it around his body, carefully laying it over the wound with pale fingers that you rarely saw. He was precise, but he couldn’t see his back and the bandage twisted as he moved it between his hands.

“It’s folded.” You told him softly, taking half a step towards him. “I can fix it... if you want.” There was a beat of silence before Kaz nodded slightly.

You moved towards him slowly and reached for him even slower, your eyes constantly flicking back to the mirror to gauge the reaction on Kaz’s face. Your fingertips barely brushed over his back as you unfolded the downturned piece of bandage and you immediately stepped away when you were done. It took no more than a few seconds, but you could hear Kaz’s short breaths and when you looked at him in the mirror you could see that he had paled.

You picked up the clean shirt that was laid on his bed and held it out to him at full arms length. His hand shook as he took it from you. He pulled it on quickly, making short work of the buttons, and pulled his gloves back on hastily.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, though you weren’t exactly sure what you were apologising for.

“It’s because of Jordie.” Kaz’s voice was hoarse when he spoke, his eyes trained on his shoes. “Why I can’t touch anyone. It’s because when he died...”

“You don’t have to tell me, Kaz.” You said softly when he trailed off. He shook his head slightly and cleared his throat, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds.

“When Jordie died, I was sick too. It was the Queen's Lady plague. One night, I fell asleep in an alley and woke up on the Reaper's Barge.” He swallowed thickly, wringing his hands together thoughtlessly, and you could see sweat forming on his brow. “When my fever broke, I had to swim back to the harbour, and Jordie... whenever someone touches me, all I can feel is those corpses.”

Silence hung between you as you tried to find the words to respond. It was a lot of information to take in, but suddenly things made sense. Now you understood why Kaz had become the way that he was; why he was prone to shutting people out, why the light behind his eyes had dimmed.

“Kaz, I... I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay.” He muttered. “I have work to do. You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like.” He crossed the room to sit down at his desk, his movements tense. You watched him for a minute, unsure of what to do. It felt wrong to leave him alone right now, but you didn’t know if he would want you to stay.

“I’m sailing to Novyi Zem next week.” You said. It was the first topic that you could think of. “I’d really appreciate it if you could look over the rent ledgers while I’m gone.”

“Sure.” He replied flatly. Silence again.

“Will you come with us all to get waffles tomorrow?”

“I have work to do, and Nina didn’t invite me anyway.”

“Yeah, well, the celebration is for me and I’d really like for you to be there.” You smiled slightly. “She probably didn’t invite you because she knew you’d say no.”

“Smart of her.” Kaz responded, and you let out a frustrated huff.

“Don’t do that, Kaz. Don’t shut me out.” You complained. He didn’t answer at all. You folded your arms over your chest and went to stand beside his chair. “I don’t care that you can’t touch people, it doesn’t bother me. You went through trauma and that’s not your fault. What is bothering me is that you’re choosing to stay closed off to everyone. You can’t keep your walls up forever, you’ll kill yourself trying.”

“I can’t handle it, Y/N.” He snapped, his voice low. The gravel in his voice might have intimidated you into backing off if you weren’t so adamant on getting through to him.

“You’ll never be able to handle it if you don’t start trying.” You insisted. “Maybe if you’d just admit to yourself that you care about people it wouldn’t be so hard to see that we care about you too.”

Kaz pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tightly, and released a long breath. You watched him, waiting for a response, not backing down. After a moment of silence, he glanced up at you.

“I can’t need anyone.” He said slowly. “Not after Jordie. I can’t let myself need anyone else.”

“You don’t have to need me, Kaz. You just have to want me.” You replied softly. His head snapped towards you and you actually saw his pupils dilate for the few seconds that he held your gaze before quickly turning away again. You hadn’t meant it like that, but you weren’t upset that he’d heard it that way.

“I don’t deserve you.” He muttered. You leaned against his desk, a sympathetic smile on your face even though he wasn’t looking at you.

“I’ve been around this long, I’m not going anywhere.” You promised. “There’s more to love about you than you think.”

Kaz tapped on his desk with a finger, a nervous action that he would usually suppress. Then, he took a sharp inhale and turned back to you.

“Okay.” He breathed. “I can try.” You bit down on your tongue in an attempt to suppress your grin, but you couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across your face.

“That’s all I ask.” You lilted. You stood up straight, pushing off of the desk and starting across the room to the window. You rolled your shirt sleeves down and snatched your coat up from the floor. “I’m going to head home. I expect to see you at my door promptly at eleven bells tomorrow morning, ready to get waffles.”

“Alright.” He nodded, breathing a single light laugh.

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

“Here, Y/N, these are for you.” He said quickly, picking up and couple of envelopes from his desk and holding them up for you. “You’ll have to make sure to notify your business partners of your change in mailing address.” You chuckled, going to take the letters from him, and he gave a small smirk as he handed them over.

“Thank you.” You smiled, before turning and heading to the door. “Eleven bells, Brekker. I know you’re a punctual man.”

“I’ll be there.” He affirmed. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Kaz.” You echoed softly before stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind you, a fond smile on your lips.

[spenciegoob]

Swing to the Stars

this fic swap is for @reidgraygubler​ ... I really hope you like it, shadow :)

A/N: AAAAH! this is my first fic swap and I’M SO EXCITED!!!!

Summary: Spencer meets someone in his little hiding spot, and desperately hopes to see them again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral!Reader

Category: fluff with a dash of angst

Content Warnings: mentions of Maeve & William Reid, talk of a case involving teens, mentions of bullying, mentions of guns and pepper spray (not used)

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

___

The first time I climbed that treacherous hill, dirtying my converse for all to see what my night activities truly consisted of, I was alone. I enjoyed it like that, I came here by myself, and I intended to keep it that way. When I sat on the swing dangling by two dangerously flimsy ropes, I thought how ridiculously large the slap of wood used to make it was. My elbows were bent a little over a 90 degree angle just to reach both sides, but I never thought past it. I had other things on my mind that night.

I thought about my mom. I knew she would have loved a secluded, little space like this. She would’ve probably read to me here, using different voices that held deep emotion to convey each story with a precise amount of dedication and love. Each story to her was special, and I silently thank her every day for passing that trait down to me. 

Unfortunately, if I thought about my mom, I thought about my dad. William was never a kind man, and I could pride myself on one thing; I would never be like him. He didn’t deserve to know a place like this. It was too serene, too beautiful to house a man so willing to abandon the two people who should’ve been the most important to him. I was glad he would never get the chance to sit on this swing.

I thought about my family. How Garcia would jump with excitement at the prospect of having a picnic overlooking the city, yet quiet and missing the sounds of cars zooming by or overlapping chatter. I thought about JJ, and how Henry would beg her to push him in the swing, because to a little kid, it was perfect. He didn’t look at the frayed rope and fear that it would snap. I hope he never starts to fear the world like that.

The second time I found myself back at the bottom of the hill, I made it halfway to the top before seeing a couple getting up from the swing they were sitting together on. I realized then why it was so comically large; it was meant for two people. Thankfully when I reached the top only half out of breath, the two were starting their descent to where I came from.

This time when I sat down, I thought about Maeve. I would’ve brought her here, shared the little secret corner of the world I built for myself. She would’ve loved something like this, and I know if life wasn’t so cruel, and I was given the chance to show her, we would’ve talked for hours. So that’s what I did that time; I talked to Maeve. To anyone else, I probably looked like a crazy person talking to himself, but much to my delight, not many people made the trip up the hill to find this place.

Now I go whenever I need a break from my mind, which unfortunately is more times than my schedule allows me to take that leisurely walk. I spend my nights sometimes after a particularly hard case there no matter the time, using the ropes that scratch my hands as my lifeline down to Earth. I watch the stars, screaming and cursing at the world in my head and waiting for the sky to respond. It never did, and the next case always came in the following morning.

This particular time that I found myself at the bottom of the grassy hill waiting to be climbed, the case I just returned from involved kids across the board. A teenage unsub was killing his fellow classmates that have wronged him. Unfortunately, the BAU had to witness his stressor recorded for the whole school to see. It involved vile insults being thrown at the young, defenseless boy only for the bullying to escalate to violence.

It was awful.

As I trudged up the hill with less excitement to look into the vast unknown than usual, I couldn’t stop thinking about the unsub. All he wanted in life was a friend, someone to talk to, laugh with, share memories together. No matter how wrong it was, I saw myself in him. Our souls held the same scars given to us by people who had no right to go digging for such a deep part of ourselves. If I didn’t make it, would I have turned out like him?

When I reached the top, completing my journey once again, I saw them. Sitting there, staring out into the sky, mimicking my thoughts to do the same on the jet ride home. I could only make out half their face lit up by the light casting down from the full moon, but I didn’t need to see more to know they were breathtaking.

I would have turned around to return home to nothing more than books reread thousands of times and stale coffee, but I already made the mistake of stepping on a rather large branch that broke in half. The crunch coming from their right immediately had them on edge, and reaching for their bag that I could only assume had some sort of weapon inside. I hope it was legal.

I felt terrible for breaking them from the trance they were in. They were deep in thought about something that was probably going to become a solution if I hadn't interrupted their musing. 

“H-hi, I’m sorry to scare you. I didn’t expect anyone here this late. Not that you being here is a problem! I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I frantically shouted, although there was less distance between us than I originally thought, and probably seemed crazed by my volume level.

They just giggled at first, but upon seeing my distraught expression, their face turned more kind than humorous.

“That’s okay. I’m just glad I didn’t jump so fast to pepper spray you. That would definitely be the worst case scenario.” I let out a breath of relief for some reason. Here I was, in front of a total stranger thankful that their weapon of choice wasn’t a gun. I’ve been on the wrong end of too many during my years.

“Did you know Chemical Mace, more commonly known as pepper spray, was invented in the 1960s by a man named Alan Lee Litman and his wife Doris Litman at the time. Their reason was actually because one of Doris’s female coworkers was attacked and robbed, so they thought to create a nonlethal weapon with easy accessibility and use, considering not everyone is able to use a gun. It wasn’t until 1987 however that the Litman’s sold their creation to Smith and Wesson where it was mass produced and later sold to law enforcement.”

“Wow, I don’t think I did.” They laughed again, but something in my heart told me it wasn’t meant to come with malicious intent. “Do you do that a lot?”

“Do what?” I asked, even though I had some inclination of what they were referencing.

“Spout random facts. I’m not complaining, that was very cool, but I am fully intrigued.” They smiled again at me fondly, the kind of smile that left me a little breathless, even more so than the 45 degree incline I had to climb to find myself in front of them. There was nothing to convince me they weren’t authentic in every word they stated.

“I do it quite often, yes. It gets annoying after a while though.” It was true, I was told on many occasions that my rambling got old very fast. I suppose that’s what happens when you’re close to me for too long. I tend to stop being the awe-striking genius, and become the nagging, walking encyclopedia.

“I don’t see how that could become annoying.” It sounded sad coming from them, like I had insulted their oddity. I would never, and I was really hoping to find out what it was.

I had nothing further to say that would express my shock, and slight fondness over their praise, wary of its honesty even if it did come from them. I hadn’t known them for more than 4 minutes and 36 seconds, but it was enough to figure out that they weren’t a liar. It wasn’t from profiling either.

“You know, there is room for two people here if you wanted to join me. I’m sure you didn’t climb that hill for nothing.” They continued for me. If they noticed my surprise, they said nothing about it. 

Usually, I would be skeptical of being in a close proximity with a stranger, but as I approached them carefully, even if their hand was no longer reaching for mace, I felt the passing between our eyes. It was as if we had shared every part of ourselves with eye contact, and as crazy as it sounds, I felt the somber thoughts that lingered from their previous reflections.

So I sat down, grabbing onto only one of the scratchy ropes, and enjoying the way I could rest my elbow against my side now that I was using the swing to its fullest potential. I stopped caring about the probability of the ropes snapping under our combined body weight. The worst that could possibly happen was I bruised my tailbone a little bit, but I wouldn’t care past the initial embarrassment. At least I had someone to show that with.

“Do you ever think about what’s out there?” They asked once I was settled on the wood slab as comfortably as I could muster. Being boney didn’t necessarily help. Before I could answer, they continued. “I can tell you’re a man of science, if the fact dump wasn’t any indicator, but I mean beyond the facts, and the known.”

“No, I don’t think about it.” It was a lie, I think about it every time I’m here, but I wanted nothing more in this moment than to know how they saw the stars.

“I do. Quite frequently, actually. I mean, I’ve read every book there ever was about the stars and space, but there is still no answer to my question.”

“What question?” I had to know.

“What’s exactly written in the stars,” they replied, using their hands to showcase the sky above us. I sat back and thought for a while. Like the books they’ve read, I too didn’t have the response to their question. God, how I wish I did.

I don’t know how long we sat there quietly. One of the perks of total darkness in the dead of night is that the moon couldn’t tell time the way the sun did. We got lost in the cosmos together, contemplating sharing our own troubled thoughts with each other. It would have felt right if we did, but alas, the ringing of my cell phone dropped a pin in our reflections.

“I- I’m sorry, I have to take this,” I rushed out before standing up and accepting the incoming call from Penelope. I knew it was a case before her bubbly voice rang through my celular. I allowed the disappointment to bleed through my tone when I told her I would be back at the BAU shortly, hoping that the small release of the emotion would be enough to ward it off in time to turn back around. 

It didn’t.

They were already looking at me expectantly when I made my way back to the swing, bending down to retrieve my satchel I had abandoned on the ground. The amount of guilt on my face must have been enough to tell them I had to leave abruptly, despite the fact that the only thing I wanted to do was stay for even just a second.

“That’s okay,” they spoke softly, giving me a tight lipped smile. “We’ll see each other again.”

“How do you know?” I couldn’t help but be skeptical. Life never did work out in my favor. They looked up at the sky once more before answering.

“Just a feeling.” I let a full grin break out at their response, the first one I’ve had when visiting this place. I turned around to start my journey back to the office where dark, and twisted things lurked behind manilla folders. Before starting my descent however, I spun around quickly, almost losing my footing and taking a tumble.

“Woah there tiger, don’t hurt yourself,” they giggled at me, one that I returned with my own breathy laugh.

“I just don’t know your name.” It baffled me a little bit that I hadn’t thought to ask before this, but they just gave me one last smile, tilting their head in faux contemplation.

“Ask me next time.” I will.

***

It’s been a year since I met them, and I haven’t seen them since. Not for a lack of trying however. After that case, I went there every night until a new one arose, this time taking me to Oregon. They hadn’t been back, and part of me wondered if it was because of me. Did I not try hard enough the first time? Should I have ignored my ringer until my phone had 5 missed calls from Penelope?

But then my eidetic memory swooped in to save me from going down that road, one of the only times it wasn’t the cause of my self destructive thoughts. Because while I replayed the conversation over in my head wondering where it went wrong, I remembered their eyes, and their smile.

I remembered what it felt like to sit with them, and thankfully that was enough to convince myself our meeting wasn’t in vain.

I never was the kind of man to believe in the universe. The whole notion that “everything happens for a reason,” felt like a lie created to somehow blame an external force on the chaos in one’s life. There were so many things in my life that had no reason for happening, and to blame that on anything or anyone but myself would be a cheap excuse of a way out.

But for some odd reason, the universe aside, I believed in them, and strangely enough, I don’t think they would have blamed me for the life I had to live. So, as I sit down tonight on this familiar piece of wood, I choose to stare at the stars instead of the ground, and believe that if I spoke aloud, maybe they would hear me.

And they did, because my efforts to sit on one side of the swing in case they returned to me were not in vain. I didn’t look over, I didn’t have to to know it was them. I had already relaxed once their presence was known in my peripherals.

“Y/N,” they spoke, causing me to change my view on the stars to their side profile. It wasn’t all that different than staring at the constellations spread around us. “My name’s Y/N.”

___

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[malfoys-demigod]

Turn Me or Leave Me 2/2

1/2

Summary: Elijah makes his choice to find and return you to him with the help of Marcel.

A/N: It was really nice to see that people wanted a second part. This one's shorter but I hope you still enjoy it!

Word Count: 1.8k

Tagging: @puddinmistahj-blog @moon-child-writer @wanniiieeee @agent-anna @mysticalfallsss

“All I wanted was a happy ending. A happy ending to what I have caused on our special day.” Elijah said, expressing his guilt on a sunny morning. A day after the evening of when he learned that you, the love of his life, had chosen to leave, and adding to the misery, asked that your memories were to be erased. Every last one memory he and you shared for the past five years.

Marcel and Klaus, being his only two anchors who felt responsible to hold the honorable and noble Mikaelson standing, stood behind the still-sad Elijah, listening to him sulk around the compound.

Marcel felt highly accountable for putting Elijah in greater pain, confiding in him the truth that came along with nothing but distress. He also felt sorry that he had to tell them something that made you unsure of telling Marcel in the first place, despite not telling them exactly where you were headed… yet.

The right hand of Klaus had sighed, looking at the ground, getting Elijah to turn around and look at him with focus.

“I’ll have you know Marcellus that I completely feel regret in myself for giving her the choice to leave. I shouldn’t have referred to her as a wall when it came to discussing important matters as that. I feel entirely in the wrong as she was right in making that point of no difference between now or five years for me to turn her. I vowed that I’d do anything to make her happy and I denied a simple request that I could have given in a heartbeat. I am clearly spiraling down a whole of great depression and fear, on the brink of turning my humanity off knowing that I cannot attempt to get her back. Is that what you wanted out of me?” he asked, irritated and drained.

Marcel looked at Klaus, who seemed to have shrugged, signaling that this was not his floor for him to say anything since he wasn’t the one to have gotten Elijah’s attention. He then looked back at Elijah, who was breathing heavily from what he had just told Marcel.

“I’m sorry, Elijah, you must have misunderstood me,” Marcel stated, “You see, I wanted to honor the moment Y/N and I had together that night in the airport. In order for her to tell me where she was going, I told her that there was no use in feeling hesitant to tell me since there was an assumption that you’d back off and respect her wishes of leaving, staying here instead. I shouldn’t have done that now that I’m hoping you’d sweep her off her feet again and get her back. Before you snap my neck or anything, just know that I’m on your side now, I want you to get her back.”

Elijah used his super-speed to quickly appear in front of Marcel, looking at him with serious eyes, “Then kindly tell me where she is. I’d like to get my wife back.”

Marcel patted Elijah in the back, smirking with delight, “With pleasure, but there’s someone you should know with her over there who’ll be brought back as well.”

Elijah’s face turned to stone, as his excitement was abruptly brought to a pause. “Who?” he asked with worry.

--

“I’m so glad we could end today’s shopping at this wonderful restaurant’s seating choice, Rebekah.” you thanked your newly made friend.

The two of you were currently at Duke’s La Jolla, a Hawaiian-inspired restaurant known for its beautiful outdoor seatings, overlooking the ocean views San Diego had to offer. This was near La Jolla Cove, a place Rebekah had planned on taking you to see after.

Right now, Duke’s was the place to gather energy and restore appetite after today’s massive shopping care of Rebekah at The Shops, an unparalleled experience for shopping at the city. She surprisingly took care of all the expenses, managing you to not stress about the endless rolling of receipts. She said it was another warm way of welcoming you to the city.

“Of course, dear, Y/N,” Rebekah waved off, “I’ve befriended the chef quite some time ago and got us the best seats for today. He’s remarkably a talented chef I might say as our meals are on the house.”

You gasped at the fact that meals were also taken cared of, “First the shopping, now the meals? This clearly has to be a dream, Rebekah, I’m serious, nobody could be that lucky in one day.”

“I can assure you that the chef of Duke’s has his ways of welcoming newcomers to his city and giving out free meals on your first visit is one of his many ways,” said an masculine voice, interrupting the conversation.

You looked up to see an elegant and sophisticated man, wearing a black luxurious suit, smiling at you with such captivation in his eyes. He removed one of his hands that had been hiding in his pocket, lending it out for you to shake.

“I’m Elijah, Rebekah’s brother,” the man introduced himself to you.

You took out your hand, shaking it with a small, enchanted smile on your face as you were charmed by his presence, “It’s nice to meet you, Elijah, I’m Y/N.”

Elijah felt nothing but pure attractiveness in how refreshing you looked compared to how he saw you last time. He was feeling nervous but wonderful to see you as you felt and appeared so different.

He examined how different you looked in terms of fashion. Rebekah transformed you into this fresh West Coast beach girl, successfully rocking the sundress and denim jacket as your hair was flowing down in a wavy manner. Your smile, it really showed that you were compelled. You had no thoughts of the troubling life you had in New Orleans, especially during the last time you interacted with Elijah. You seemed to have had no thought on the supernatural events happening, as there was nothing but sunshine on your mind.

Marcel seemed to have noticed that Elijah was about to start fawning over you for a much longer time than he had expected, which caused him to nudge Elijah in the shoulder, bringing him back to reality.

Elijah, animated back to reality, turned to Marcel, who was smiling warmly at you, “This is Marcel, a friend of mine.”

“He’s also my boyfriend actually,” Rebekah stated, smiling at you and Elijah. Marcel extended his hand and chuckled at you, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

You shook Marcel’s hand, gasping again at Rebekah, “Rebekah I didn’t even know about you having a brother, and now a boyfriend? You seem to be hiding lots of things from me,” you teased.

“Relax darling, I’ve only met you a few days ago, I can’t just talk you through my entire life,” Rebekah sarcastically replied, “No doubt that would take centuries,” she looked at Elijah with a smirk.

“Right, well I wouldn’t want to be rude anymore, Elijah, Marcel, would you like to join us? The view is to die for, and so is the food!” you proposed, inviting your two new friends to sit with you by the table.

Rebekah waved her hands at Elijah and Marcel who had begun nodding and gesturing to sit, “But would you look at the time? Y/N was meaning to be taken to La Jolla Cove and now seems to be the perfect time.”

You turned to Rebekah, narrowing your eyebrows in confusion. But before you had a say in it, Elijah took a step forward and pointed at his sister, “Yes well, perhaps you’ve forgotten that you and Marcel have matters to attend to by this hour, sister? Y/N shouldn’t be worried about cancelled plans on her end, I’d be delighted to take her for you, if that's alright with you, Y/N?” he asked, now looking at you.

You rapidly nodded in excitement, “Of course, I don’t see why not!”

Marcel clasped his hands together, rubbing it in successfully, “Well now that’s settled, I think it’s time to make a move now,” he offered, looking at the group with a big grin on his face. Rebekah pursed her lips in irritation, “Right, just fantastic…” she murmured, standing up and making her way beside Marcel.

Elijah took his hand out gracefully, which you took in response, standing up beside him with an elated smile on your face. “Well, thank you for lunch today, Rebekah, and of course shopping. I’ll see you at home later?”

“With good things to look forward to I hope,” Rebekah strangely replied, which somehow Elijah and Marcel knew what she meant, leaving Marcel and Rebekah to part ways after that, resulting in you and Elijah left alone again.

He looked at you with mesmerism for a quick second and then gestured his hand to the exit, “Shall we?”

--

Plans with the person taking you to La Jolla Cove may have been changed but something about Elijah taking you instead didn’t really bother you. He was nothing but a pleasure to be with at the moment. After multiple times of offering that you drive, you finally gave up when Elijah strongly insisted that he’d take the wheel and drive the two of you to your destination.

For some reason, the drive to the cove had been surprisingly quiet in a good way. Glances at each other were exchanged every so often, smiling at each other as if you two were an old and sweet married couple enjoying each other’s moments together.

While you were thinking about how kind and handsome your friend’s brother was, Elijah was feeling nothing but a breeze of happiness in his heart, seeing you smile as if nothing in the world was bothering you at the moment. He was a little sad that you weren’t aware anymore of the feud between you two, but he wanted to cherish this happy and silent moment the two of you were sharing, knowing it would come to an end later on as he intended of bringing your memories back.

Once you arrived at the cove, you quickly stepped out and breathed the fresh and sunny air in the small, picturesque cove and beach that was surrounded by cliffs. “Wow, I can see why this place is deeply loved by both tourists and locals.” you admitted, gazing at the waves and breathtaking sky.

You turned around, looking at Elijah, who seemed to have already made his way beside you, putting his hands back on his pocket. You noticed how elegantly perfect he looked in his suit, but it didn’t really suit the setting. “Can I be honest with you, Elijah?” you asked, getting his attention.

He gave a small smile and nod, gesturing for you to continue, “Of course.”

“No offense because I really like your whole get up and all but wearing a nice suit… on a beach?” you joked, laughing at what you said.

Elijah looked down at his whole look, grinning at your observation and started unbuttoning his jacket, “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I do hope though that folding up my shirt and trousers would suffice at the moment.”

“We could head back to the mall and get you some beach clothes if you want,” you offered, turning around to the car.

Elijah shook his head, and stopped you by grabbing your forearm, “That won’t be necessary, Y/N, I wouldn’t want you to miss out on spending more time in this lovely place.”

You nodded, showing a gesture of appreciation and looked back at the view of the beach, “It’s beautiful isn’t it? I’ve never seen such magnificent views like this. You see, I’m originally from New Orleans and I just moved here to the West Coast and I haven’t really had much exposure to things like this.”

Elijah, finished folding his shirt and trousers, looked at you with care, “Do you like it here so far?”

You nodded, showing eyes of hopes and dreams awaiting to be accomplished, “You bet. I don’t really see myself going back to New Orleans. I can’t explain how I’m feeling exactly but this place makes me feel free and at ease. Like nothing’s stopping me to live a carefree and happy life.”

Elijah displayed somewhat of a small smile, which to him was because he was relieved and happy that you were happy. The smile was small because he also felt unhappy that he was not able to provide you this happiness.

“What about you, Elijah?”

“Hm?” Elijah hummed in confusion.

“Are you living a carefree and happy life as well?” you prompted, asking innocently. “Perhaps there’s a special person in your life that’s giving you the additional happiness in your life?” There was something in your gut that wanted you to ask this, wanting to know if he had a significant other in his life.

Elijah chuckled to himself in a depressing way, looking down at the ground. “It’s quite a long story.”

“Ah,” you opened your mouth, happy that you understood what he was trying to say, “But do you love her?”

There seemed to be a quick and honest nod from Elijah, who seemed to be looking directly at the horizon, as if he was vividly thinking about his girl. “Words cannot express how much I love her.”

“So what happened?” you genuinely asked.

“One single yet vast mistake I made on my end. It ruined everything that we had together and I will never forget how much I regretted everything that led to her completely starting a new life without me. It broke my heart but I deserved that. She doesn’t deserve to have her heart broken because I wasn’t thinking things correctly.” he utterly confessed with grief.

You touched his shoulder out of pity, causing him to look at you with soft eyes, “Fight for her, Elijah. She has to be around here somewhere, hasn’t she? It isn’t too late to see if you have a chance to get her back and I know you will. I can help find her!” you supportingly said, trying to get his hopes up.

But it somehow failed. He sighed, shaking his head at you. His hand slowly touched yours, the one that held his shoulder. “Looking around for her won’t be necessary,” he replied, confusing you, “Because you’ve been standing alongside me today.”

You narrowed your eyes, wondering what he meant as this sounded strange to you. “I-I don’t follow, Elijah.”

Elijah placed both his hands on your shoulders firmly, looking you straight in the eye as he started compelling you.

“What we have just briefly discussed between us is considered a highlight of what I’m about to bring back to you,” he first said, “Recently, Marcel Gerard had compelled you to forget everything that happened to you in the last five years upon your request. The reason for this was because I denied you of becoming a vampire after being asked by you on our five year anniversary. With this, we had a massive quarrel, leaving you to have your memories erased and decide to start a new life here, away from New Orleans. Eventually you met again, Rebekah, but that doesn’t matter as much as what I’m about to say. I, Elijah Mikaelson, your husband, have travelled to see you, ending this compulsion to give you free will upon hearing what has been said.”

A few mere seconds had passed after Elijah’s compulsions and there you were, standing, and staring at someone who grew fondly familiar to you, bringing about tears slowly falling on your face as emotions were just attacking your body, hitting you right in the face with such clarity and impact.

Elijah only saw a tearful wife of his, narrowing her eyes with emotion as she didn’t know how to feel at the moment. He wanted to hug her and tell her everything was fine but he wanted her to make the first move, giving her the choice on how she wanted to react.

“E-Elijah,” your voice broke, causing you to just wrap your arms around his neck, breaking out to sob quietly. Elijah frowned in pity, hugging you back with such grip on his arms, wanting to not let you go. He gently rubbed your back, whispering sweet words and telling you to let it all out.

“My darling,” he whispered, “Just let it all out, it will be alright.”

Still embracing him, you shook your head, which he felt you do, “No,” you denied, “I’m so sorry, Elijah.”

This caused the heartwarming hug to stop from the two of you, as you simultaneously pulled out from each other. Elijah looked at you with slight confusion, after hearing you apologize. “Elijah,” you continued, “It was really wrong of me to lash out on you that night. I completely destroyed our anniversary night all because of one thing I kept going on about. Then I didn’t even let you know what choice I chose, leaving you to find out in a way you couldn’t imagine. I’m very, truly, sorry.”

Elijah gloomed, lowering his face with guilt, “No, Y/N,” he started with a low, sad voice, “It is I who is in the wrong, not you. You will never be in the wrong. What you asked for was something to do with what special thing we have. Of course it is my dream to live an eternal life with you, and when the situation appeared in front of me, I foolishly ignored it and words cannot express how wrong that was of me to do. I was a fool for doing so, for letting you go, and making you unhappy. It went to show how vapid I was as a husband and the guilt of that lives in me. It was I who destroyed our special day together, not you, but I. When you left without telling me, I deserved that as it gave me the time to reflect on how much of a mindless person I was that night. Knowing that you went here to start a life without me broke me. I never wanted to imagine what it was like to not have you in my life anymore and that fear arrived the moment we fought and I was trembling with such immense fear, knowing that life would crumble down without you by my side. I want you to know Y/N, that you are the love of my life always and forever. I am deeply apologetic for what I have done and I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to make things right, to make us right again, because all I want in my life is to make you happy and if you will, I would like to live an eternal life with you, for you are the light of my life.”

It didn’t take another second for you to think about it. Despite going through a lot on both your ends, he was still the love of your life. If there was one thing the Mikaelsons taught you, it was that no matter what happens, family will always come down as the number one thing in life, always and forever.

You nodded, starting to grow a smile on your face, followed along with giggles, which caused Elijah to tense down and return the smile, “Yes, Elijah,” you replied, “I will always love you with all my heart. You are after all, my husband, my lover, my favorite person in the entire world and I would never want things to end between us for you too are the light of my life.”

With that, Elijah cupped your face and connected his lips with yours, planting a passionate and heartwarming kiss to end the beautiful day in one of your favorite places with your favorite person. You returned to wrapping your arms around his neck, hoping to stay like this forever with him.

Perhaps the two of you could stay in this beautiful place for awhile, after all… It is your special week in the end.

[realcube]

 CRYBABY (1 / 2) | tsukishima k

♡ alt fluff ending (1 / 2) of jealous — alt angst ending ( 2 / 2 )

♡ tw crying, unspecified injury, reverse hurt/comfort, mentions of violence, swearing, rude nicknames & set in a hospital 

“Kei, hello? I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now but Yamaguchi told me that you were here and..I just wanted you to know that I, uh, am really sorry and I hope you get well soon.”

tsukishima felt like shit. he woke up with a splitting headache, which was only worsened by the bright beam of the LEDs which hung right above his hospital bed. it took him a few moments to become fully conscious but when he heard the irritating beeping of the ECG, his first coherent thought was, ‘wow, i can’t believe a fist fight with the king still has me hospitalised. how embarrassing.’

little did he know, kageyama was in the infirmary room right next to his own, being treated for his broken ankle and nose. 

tsukishima wasn’t spared another second to pity himself as his sore head snapped around to meet the gaze of whoever was lingering at the door, “hello?” he called out, squinting to try make out the looming figure before feeling around the side table for his glasses, “come in.” 

“Kei, hello? I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now but Yamaguchi told me that you were here and..I just wanted you to know that I, uh, am really sorry and I hope you get well soon.”

That voice was unmistakable.

his blood ran cold, suddenly feeling extremely dizzy and sick. “(y/n).” he muttered under his breath in disbelief, as he was finally able to get a clutch on his glasses and push them up the bridge of his nose, easing his headache slightly. 

“oh, thanks.” he croaked, his throat dry from both waking up and your presence. if he being completely honest, he hardly processed a word you said; as soon as he realised it was you talking, his mind was just flooded with emotions, feelings and memories alike. hardly any of them were bad — except for the more recent ones — yet he still felt an overwhelming wave of sadness which he had no choice but to hide. 

“so are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in?” he inquired, concealing his regret with sass, which was all to convincing since it was a usual practise for tsukishima by now. in fact, that’s exactly what had gotten him into this situation.

you inhaled sharply, shocked by the fact that he actually wanted you to stay as you’ve been under the impression that he hates you, which is understandable considering his recent actions. hesitantly, you emerged from behind the curtain that separated the bed he lay in from the door, your heart sinking upon seeing the state he lay in; out of the many years you had been friend with him, this is the worst you’ve ever seen him. pasty, chapped lips, bloodshot eyes, messy hair and extremely scrawny, yet you couldn’t help but admire him for pushing through none the less. in your eyes, he’s still beautiful — but he’d never believe you if you told him — and he thought the exact same about you. 

“how, um, how are you?” you stuttered, shuffling awkwardly as you took a seat in the chair that was already placed beside the bed. the same chair that his brother had sat in yesterday and him mother the day before that. 

“what do you think?” he scoffed, gesturing to his current state and injury that was highlighted by the thick, white cast. 

your eyes widened, being hit once again by the harsh reality that he was no longer your friend. “i- i don’t even know why i asked.” you murmured, voice meek and shaky enough to catch the attention of tsukishima, who also forgot that he was supposed to dislike you.

his comment wasn’t intended to be rude but in context, he could completely understand why you thought that — however, that’s just the type of guy he is. looking at your disheartened expression, he felt his own fall to resemble it. maybe kageyama did knock some sense into the blonde as he was now able to thinking clearly, recollect on how poorly he treated you and wonder why he did those things.

truly, he wanted nothing more to apologise. to tell you how awful he was and that he doesn’t hate you, quite the opposite actually! he needed to let you know that you did nothing wrong and everything bad that happened was his fault and he was willing to take full responsibility. but of course, his pride didn’t let him. all he was able to utter was, “did you check up on kageyama?”

it was a harmless question, or so he thought. just innocently inquiring about the wellbeing of his teammate and your ex, so why were tears rolling down your cheeks? and why did he feel the urge to cry too?

“yeah, but it was really awkward.”

tsukishima cheek heated up with both annoyance and at the fact your hand was now resting upon his, “why are you crying then?!” he snapped, angrily intertwining his fingers with yours, not thinking much of it, “you made it seem like he died or something!”

“why are you crying?!” 

“i’m not fucking crying!” he was crying. crystalline tears running down his cheek tickling his pale skin.

outstretching your arm, you brushed your finger against his face to wipe away his tear then proceed to show him how the pad of your index finger glistened under the intense room light. “yes, you are, crybabyshima!” you half-cried, half-laughed, resulting in tsukishima hunching over to cackle at the nickname. 

“i’m crying at how stupid you are!” he tired to hiss but he really couldn’t take himself seriously, involuntarily punctuating each word with a chuckle or wheeze. 

“watch it, kei. the stupid one of us is in a hospital bed.”  

he quirked a brow, breathing frantically from having just laughed his lungs out, “uh, yeah. because of stupidest one’s boyfriend.” he didn’t even know if what he was saying made sense or not, as his main priority was trying to catch his breath. 

“ex boyfriend.” you corrected, both of you becoming uncomfortably aware that you were still holding hands at the same time, yet neither of you dared to move an inch. you sniffled while wiping your cheek with the sleeve of your jacket, “kageyama told me what happened. it was vague but he said that you attacked him because he cheated on me, is that what really happened?”

his memory of the event was as hazy as that description. although, that sounded about right but now that he heard it aloud, he realised how pathetic it sounded so obviously he didn’t want to admit to that sort of behaviour. “i don’t remember.”

“it doesn’t sound like you.” your voice was hushed, as if he was going to scold you if you spoke up. “so what do you remember?”

the headache that was previously preventing him from doing any deep thinking had now somewhat dissipated, allowing his to avert his gaze onto the hospital floor as he hummed in thought, “the last thing i remember clearly was walking to school the night after you-” he gulped, the horrible memories suddenly flooding into his mind, making his lips twitch into a frown as he recalled all the nasty things he said to you, “the night after you called me.”

you nodded, the memories not treating you kindly either as all you were able to do was mouth an ‘oh’.

“listen, (y/n).” tsukishima started, the sight of your dejected aura prompting him to finally, partially, speak his mind. “i’m sorry about what i said. i don’t even know why i said it so i don’t have an explanation..i’m just sorry.” he didn’t expect forgiveness, in all honesty. if the roles were reverse, he was unsure as to whether he’d forgive you or not. well, he probably would but still, that’s just because he’s fallen so he doesn’t expect the same leeway from you. 

but to his surprise, your expression softened as you cooed, “it’s fine, kei.” with a shrug, absentmindedly stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. “i somewhat forgive you.” 

his eyes basically popped out of their sockets, “what?” he almost instantly blurted out, looking at you as if you had gone mad. “why?” there was slight disgust laced in his voice, but that was as expected of him so you didn’t read to much into it.

“because you’re hot.” you joked with an eyeroll, taken back by the audacity he had to question your decision, “why do you care? just be thankful that we can be friends again!” you chirped but his grimace wiped the smile clean off you face.

he genuinely would’ve been more content if you had just stopped after your first statement. i mean, you looked at him like he was your world, even when he was laying beaten on a hospital bed, and the way your thumb gently stoked the back of his frail, calloused hand like it was treasure resulted in butterflies erupting in his stomach. was that just you being friendly?

“you really are stupid.” he tutted, averting his gaze from your watery eyes as it would do nothing more than evoke unneeded and unappreciated emotions within him. “i think i’ve made it exceeding clear that i don’t want to be your friend.” despite his efforts, his words still sounded unsure and a light blush kept creeping onto his features. 

a gasp escaped your lips, your eyebrows furrowing as you immediately felt a surge of impenetrable rage shoot through your body, “why not?! i thought we were getting on like old times.” after the initial rush of adrenaline subsided, you found yourself sulking, slumping back in your chair and crossing your arms over your chest like a child. you just wanted things to go back to the way they were before, was that too much to ask? or did he truthfully detest you? and if that’s the case, why was he holding your hand so tightly, refusing to let go?

“idiot, i mean i want to be your boyfriend.” the last word was spoken meekly, as if it was a curse. “i didn’t think i’d have to spell it out for you but i guess i shouldn’t have overestimated your intelligence.” ironic, considering that you didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that he was joking. you had known him for long enough to be aware that he was physically incapable of giving a compliment without following it up with sarcasm or an insult. 

it was as if someone had lit a blast furnace underneath your chair as you felt your whole body heat up to an uncomfortable extend, instantly aware of your hand in his you felt your palm become clammy — or perhaps that was his —   either way, you were quick to yank away, leaving tsukishima extremely confused and oddly offended.

“kei..” you breathed, mind completely blank, “why?” 

“what do you mean? i don’t know why.” this whole week has been a roller-coaster of emotions for him and now he was trying to finally bail himself out but you weren’t making it any easier, but at the end of the day, he only had himself to blame as you’d probably be a lot more forthcoming if it wasn’t for his past attitude. 

there was a part of him that was ready to gush on to you about how warm you make him, how your touch sends butterflies through his body, how your general demeanour makes him feel as though he could entrust his whole life to you but his pride wouldn’t allow him to express said thoughts. 

but fortunately, he didn’t need to elaborate as your finger found his jaw, tilting it upwards so he’d meet your reassuring gaze, “i’d love to. we could go to that dessert place near your house and get that couple’s discount! well, when you recover, of course.”

poor, simp tsukki didn’t even try to resist the smile his lips curled into as your minty breath tickled his skin. “i ask you out and the first thing you think about is dessert? typical.”

smirking, you leaned in to pinch his cheek but immediately jerked backwards when he winced, “ah, i’m sorry! old habits die hard.” you chuckled awkwardly, feeling a resurgence of the previous heat when he kissed the back of your hand to show no hard feelings. 

“it’s fine. but as an apology, stay with me for a while.” he said, his eyes fixated on the window by his bed. his hand subconsciously finding it’s way into yours once again. 

[mister-supernova]

Trust In Me

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

“You’re joking. You’re telling me, ME,--your oh so dearest best friend in this universe--that you’re not going to help us play against the Timberwolves even though you’re a freaking tribrid? You have all the powerups you can get and you’re choosing not to use them! What kind of madness is that, Marshall?”

“Professor Saltzman doesn’t let any of you use your abilities anyways, so there’s no real point in me helping the team, is there?”

You feel your eyes roll so far back you're surprised they didn’t fall out, “Come on! Do you have any idea what kind of badass duo we’d be out there?”

“Nope and I don’t intend on finding-”

“We’d be unstoppable! Those asshat Timberwolves won’t know what hit them on that field! You have to play at least one game while you’re at school here! Please!”

Hope responds to your argument with silence and a look on her face that you clearly read as, I’m not playing no matter how much you beg.

You knew there wasn’t any way of getting through to her thick skin, so you accepted your defeat. “Okay, fine,” you huff, taking a seat right next to Hope at the edge of your bed, “You’re still going to cheer me on though, right? I mean, it’s the least you could do.”

She takes an agonizingly long time thinking of her answer while looking at the hopeful ‘puppy dog’ look in your eyes. The longer she took, the bigger you made your eyes which eventually broke Hope into giving you a heartwarming smile, “Yes, I’ll be silently cheering you on.”

You smile back, “That’s all I need, Marshall.”

The alarm tone from your phone jolts you awake from another one of your vivid dreams. After meeting Hope outside the Grill the other night, your dreams have become more realistic than ever before.

They’re almost beginning to feel too real. Maybe the clarification of you knowing Hope is real influenced your brain into putting her into more lifelike dream scenarios.

It didn’t surprise you that the topic of conversation in the dream was about the annual Stallions versus Timberwolves game since it’s happening today. Even though your team has been notorious for losing on purpose every single year, you still liked the not-so-friendly competition between the rival schools.

At this morning's assembly, you were happy to hear your new headmaster’s announcement about banning the ‘throw the game’ rule. Josie seemed to be the only teammate who was hesitant about the sudden change, but everyone else was ecstatic.

The thing that threw you off the most during the assembly was Vardamus assigning Landon as the quarterback. See, you loved the guy and he’s one of your good friends here at the school, but you know damn well that his athletic ability is as good as a decapitated zombie--on either half--and even that was saying much.

You weren’t just saying this to bash on your friend because he was proving your analysis of him correct on the field as the team was warming up. You and Josie were helplessly trying to help him catch the ball after a snap.

Thankfully she has more patience with Landon than you because at this rate it didn’t look like you guys were winning this game either.

“Sorry. Foster care didn’t have a football team.” Landon grumbles after having the ball bounce off his chest.

“At least you didn’t let it hit you in the face this time,” you shrug, earning a searing glare from Josie, “I’ll go warm up over here now.”

You quickly excused yourself and ended up jogging over to Lizzie who was sitting on the bench with a stack of books by her side. First, Landon is your quarterback for the day and now you see Lizzie reading right now instead of warming up.

“What’s going on here? I thought you’d be pissed at Vardamus for giving Landon your QB spot.”

“I’m on a different kind of mission today, Y/n,” she says as you watch her flip through a book of monsters and that gives you the information you needed to know what this was about.

Coincidentally enough, Lizzie also met a new and mysterious stranger the same day you met Hope. The two of you bonded for the past few days over your slightly similar situations which you felt was very weird but also kind of cool.

“There’s no way Sebastian is like us and I’m determined to figure out just what he is.”

“And you couldn’t do this--hm, I don’t know--after the game today?” You ask in urgency for her to play today, “I mean, seriously Lizzie, this could be huge for us.”

“What’s wrong with Landon being your QB?”

Your eyes widen in shock, “Are you kidding? Just look at him!”

The both of you direct your attention to Landon on the field as Josie hands him the football. You prepare yourself for disaster as he winds his arm back, but then you find yourself proven wrong as you watch the distance the ball was being thrown. It seemed to soar through the sky for what felt like hours before bouncing off of a window from the Timberwolves’ bus.

“Looks like he has the magic touch now,” Lizzie says knowingly before returning to her book while you continue to stare at the bus in shock.

Right before you decided it was the best time to look away, a familiar someone seems to catch your eye instead. Walking down the steps of your rival school’s bus was none other than Hope Marshall.

“No way,” you muttered to yourself, unsure if you should be happy to see her again or concerned that she’s on the team you’re playing against.

Absentmindedly, you slowly started drifting away from your spot by Lizzie and felt yourself being pulled in Hope’s direction. You had to get closer to clarify that she was who you were seeing and not some sick mirage you’ve created in your brain.

“L/n!” Dorian jumps in front of you, breaking your trance and blocking your path towards the opposing team, “Save any trash talk for the game. I don’t need you picking a fight with the other players before we even start.”

You had built yourself a reputation for these annual games and were known for getting kicked out due to foul plays off the field, “But Mr. Williams I was just-”

“That’s Coach Williams today, L/n. Back to your side. Go on!” He rushes you away and though you are strong enough to push past him, you’d rather play then be a benchwarmer for the rest of the day.

An annoyed growl rumbles in the back of your throat as you try to catch one more glimpse of Hope, but you were blocked by Dorian’s clipboard.

Josie can clearly see the longing anticipation in your eyes as you join your team’s side of the field. You looked like a lost kid in a mall looking for their parents, “Everything okay, Y/n?”

“Do you remember those drawings from my sketchbook this summer? The ones of that girl, but all you can really see are her eyes and hair?” You ask her in a hushed voice.

She nods, “Yeah, the one you said you’ve been seeing in your dreams.”

“Okay, well I met her the night of our first day back at school. She’s real and she’s here with the Timberwolves,” Josie furrows her eyebrows at you.

“So you met her before your dreams?”

“No. That’s the thing, I’ve never seen her in town before the other night and after all my dreams. I know for damn sure that I’d remember her being on our rival school’s football team given how many times I’ve tried kicking their asses every year.”

“Maybe she’s a new student this year? You very well could’ve seen her at the Grill this summer without even realizing it. Our brains only need to see a face once for them to show up in our dreams.”

“Josie, I swear on everything in my life that it’s-”

The referee’s whistle rings your ears as he calls for everyone’s attention, “Stallions! Timberwolves! Both teams meet in the middle for the coin toss!”

You and Josie sigh knowing that you’d have to put a pin in this conversation, “You ready?” She asks.

You nod, doing a few quick stretches since you didn’t get a lot of warm up time and to prepare yourself for seeing Hope again, “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

A wave of excitement filled your chest as you walked with Josie towards the middle of the field. The bashful smile on your face was hard to contain once your eyes landed back on Hope who you could clarify was very much real and very much here in front of you once more.

“Oh, wow,” Josie mutters with surprise from beside you.

“I told you I liked my chances, Marshall,” you smirk, gaining a small tight lipped smile from Hope in return.

“I guess today was your lucky day, then. Not for long, though,” she challenged, playfully squinting her eyes at you.

You lean your body slightly forward with a confident grin, “We’ll see about that.”

Your teammates share a confused look at the interaction they were witnessing between you two. “I see you’re... familiar with each other,” Hope’s teammate chimes in.

With a shrug you say, “We’re practically married. Isn’t that right, Marshall?”

Hope shakes her head at you, biting her lip to keep her mouth shut long enough for Vardamus to stand between your two teams and break your friendly banter.

With a little sprinkle of magic from Josie, your team won the coin toss with ease so the Stallions would be receiving the ball at the start.

“Okay, what was that?” Josie asks as the two of you walk back to your side of the field.

“What? Did you want me to call heads instead?”

“No! Not that. You and that girl.”

“I told you we met the other night,” you shrug, “and her name is Hope for your information.”

“That was not an interaction from two people who’ve only had one conversation, Y/n. Not to mention she really does look like the girl from your drawings. Are you sure you haven’t met before?”

“That’s what I was telling you and yes, I’m positive that I’ve never interacted with her prior to the other night. You think that if I hadn’t seen or met her at the Grill during the summer that we wouldn’t be best friends by now?”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me! I know you’re labeled as the social butterfly and all, but that must’ve been some long conversation if that’s how you’re acting around each other.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, “Actually it was only about ten minutes.”

“WHAT?!”

The conversation was cut short by the sound of the ref’s whistle signaling you all to line up for kickoff. You jog away to your position before Josie can interrogate you any longer and wait for the game to begin.

Stallions were able to use magic to their advantage and gain points within the first play which was something you never thought you’d see during your time here. As everyone repositions into defense, you notice that Hope is the quarterback for the Timberwolves.

“Okay, Y/n. I’m about to suggest something you may or may not like,” Josie says from next to you.

“Don’t worry, I got the QB,” you grin, gaining Hope’s attention. She notices the mischievous look in your eyes and almost looks as if she knows what you’re up to, making her a little nervous.

“Like it is, I guess,” Jo huffs.

Once the football reached Hope’s hands, you made a b-line towards her, quick to avoid any other players who were blocking your way. Careful not to crush her during the fall, you took Hope by the waist and spun the both of you to the ground.

Your tackle didn’t do much good given that she was still able to pass the ball. Whether it got to her teammate or not you weren’t too sure of at the moment because Hope’s body was literally tangled with yours.

With her one hand against your chest and the other keeping her propped up on the grass, Hope’s face was almost an inch away from you. Feeling her breathing heavily on your face, you oddly felt like you’ve been in this exact position before.

“Bet you enjoyed doing that, huh?” Hope speaks up, getting you to huff out a chuckle.

“Well it wasn’t the preferred way I wanted to take you out, per say, but a little bit, yeah,” you smile, getting her to laugh in return.

Being in this position with someone you’ve talked to so briefly should feel awkward, but for whatever reason it just felt right. If it weren’t for the fact that you were playing in a football match, you’d probably want to stay like this for a while longer.

Suddenly, Hope’s eyes widen as she quickly rolls off you and begins wincing in pain while grabbing at her ankle.

“Are you okay?” You ask while sitting up.

“Ah, I don’t know. I-I think it’s sprained,” she lightly groans, scrunching up her face.

“Shit, Marshall. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I-” you shake your head, pushing yourself to your feet before reaching out to help Hope up, “here, I can help take you to the nurse if you want.”

“It’s okay. I can find it,” she shakes her head and she takes note of the worried look in your eye knowing that you had hurt her, “Hey, seriously Y/n, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.” Hope squeezes your arm and gives you a reassuring look before limping off the field.

You watched as she walked away, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. You were sure that you were careful while pulling her to the ground. Hope didn’t seem to be in any sort of pain for the first few seconds after tackling her.

“You know she faked her injury right?” Josie pops in out of nowhere, making your heart nearly burst out of your chest.

“Jesus, Jo,” you take a deep breath before taking in her inquisition, “And you think so?”

“Yeah and I don’t know why, but maybe you should keep an eye on her.”

“Why? Do you think she’ll steal some snacks from the kitchen?” You jokingly ask.

“Well, you started having dreams of her after Malivore was destroyed and now she seems to be oddly gravitated to this town and our school. I’m just saying that you should be a little more careful about trusting her so fast.”

Though you haven’t felt anything off-putting about Hope, Josie had an annoyingly excellent point. “I guess I’m on watch duty, then. Find a sub for me.”

It was shocking to see that Hope had gotten so far ahead of you that you weren’t even in running distance from her. Oddly fishy for someone who just sprained their ankle. Even as you walked into the school, there was no sign of her in the halls or the nurse’s office.

There was one thing that stuck out--a familiar scent that you had smelled in that vacant dorm room this summer. Only this time it was a lot stronger than when you first caught it.

Out of curiosity, you followed the smell just to see if it would lead you anywhere. Crazily enough, it didn’t take you to the vacant room like you thought it would, but to Landon and Raf’s dorm room instead.

Your eyes widen to the size of saucers when you see Hope sitting cross-legged in front of a map that she was currently dripping her own blood onto.

“Hope?”

She quickly turns around and stands, startled by the sound of your voice, “Y/n! Uh, I um, this isn’t what it--”

“Isn’t what it looks like? Right. Well, it looks like you faked an injury to sneak into the school. It looks like you forgot to mention you were a witch the other night. It also looks like you’re doing a locator spell in my missing friend’s room.”

Hope remains silent for a couple of seconds, almost taken back by the passive way you were speaking to her, “Okay, maybe it’s exactly what it looks like.”

You huff out a sigh in disbelief, letting Josie’s suspicions about Hope sink into your head now.

“I’m not here to hurt you or anyone else here, Y/n. I promise, I’m trying to help. Dr. Saltzman asked me to do a locator spell on Rafael so that I can help him return to his human form.”

You give her a questioning look, “We’ve been looking for a way to turn him back for months now. What makes you think you can?”

“Because I know more about the Crescent Wolf Clan than anyone else here.”

You raise a brow, “That wolf pack in New Orleans? If you know so much about it, wouldn’t that make you a…” then the realization sets in.

Hope sees that you’re still skeptical, “Look, I can’t explain everything right now, but I really need you to trust me, Y/n.”

Most of the context clues told you that trusting someone you’ve only known for less than a day was a terrible, terrible idea, but your heart wouldn’t let you believe that.

As much as you shouldn’t, you trusted Hope more than anything.

You exhale, “Okay, Marshall. I’m trusting you. Is there anything you need me to do?”

Hope gives you a grateful smile, “Keep an eye on Landon. There’s a werewolf-eating monster out in the woods and I have no idea if it will be after him, too,” she says, walking past you and into the hallway.

Again, you’re confused with even more new information, “Wait, there’s a what in the woods? And how do you know the monster would be after Landon?” Hope ignores your questions, continuing to speed walk in front of you, “Marshall!”

A lot of events took place within the next couple of hours. You did as Hope asked and watched Landon back at the game which seemed pretty boring at first.

Josie took you by surprise as you witnessed her break another player’s arm with a spell mid-play, but to be fair it didn’t look like she realized what she was doing until the damage was done.

If that wasn't physically violent enough, there was a huge mosh fight between both schools after the game was over. You tried getting out of the crossfire because the last thing you needed was detention for being involved in something you didn’t mean to be a part of.

That didn’t go as planned seeing as one of the Timberwolves was able to punch a mean hook on your right cheek before you could scramble out of there. Most of the redness faded by the end of the night, but it was still a little sore whenever you poked at it.

Hope was able to return Raf back to his human form just like she said she would. He explained how this “mysterious girl” saved his life then you and your friends gave him a warm welcome back to humanity.

After cleaning yourself up, you snuck out of the school’s building to find Hope sitting out at one of the piers where she told you to meet her before parting ways earlier.

You could tell she had cleaned up as well judging by the change of clothes and seeing that her hair was no longer tied up in braids, but now flowing down over her shoulders.

“Well, today was eventful, huh?” You speak up, groaning as you take a seat next to her.

“Oh, my God. Y/n, your face!” Hope exclaims.

“You know you can just call me ugly, Marshall. There’s no need for you to act all aghast about it.” You tease.

“No, I mean the gash on your cheek.” She reaches for your face to observe your wound more clearly.

You let her lightly trace along the edge of the bump, almost unfazed by the contact, “Oh right, that.”

“What kind of altercation did you get yourself into?”

You scoff, looking more hurt by the question rather than the punch to your face, “Bold of you to assume it was me who initiated the altercation, Marshall.”

“Well, you just seem like the type is all.” She looks at you with a teasing look in her eyes.

“What a kind and accurate assumption you have of me there, but for the record I wasn’t the one who started the fight. Everyone just started going at each other after the game and I got caught in the crossfire.”

There’s a very noticeable shift in Hope’s mood and you can tell that she was genuinely worried about you getting hurt. All she could think about was the last time you were caught in the crossfire and how it nearly cost you your life. You didn’t know that, of course, but you felt the need to reassure her.

“You’re cute when you’re worried, Marshall, but I’m fine. I promise, a punch to the face is like a slap on the wrist. You should know the healing process is quite fast for a werewolf.” You give her a knowing look.

Hope’s eyes widen in realization, making her finally pull her hand away from your face. “You caught onto that, huh?”

“I figured it out once you mentioned the Crescent Wolves. Raf only confirmed it when he explained how this mysterious werewitch saved his life,” Hope looks down at her lap looking like a kid who got caught in a lie, “Thank you, by the way. For bringing my friend back.”

She meets your gaze again, giving you a tight lipped smile, “You’re welcome.”

“You know it’s too bad you didn’t have me helping you out there. Given that we’ve got a pretty good thing going on here, we could’ve made a badass team.”

“You got punched in the face by a human. How do you think you would’ve stood against a monster that actively wanted to kill you?”

“That’s the whole point of being a team. One runs around failing miserably while the other pulls the weight.”

Hope scrunches her eyebrows together, “That’s literally not what being a team is supposed to be like at all.”

“Seriously?” You ask cluelessly, “Damn, well I guess I’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”

She laughs and for the first time you notice the way her eyes squint together when she really lets herself smile. It sparked a feeling in you that you hadn’t felt before.

“You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you, Marshall?” You speak up in a playful tone, lightly bumping her shoulder, “Has our 24-hour friendship meant nothing to you? I mean, seriously, how could you not tell me you were a hybrid?”

Hope gives you an appalled scoff, “You didn’t tell me you were a werewolf. Looks like we both hid something from each other last night.”

You stare at her for a second, squinting your eyes as you analyze her, “Hmm. Touche, Marshall.”

She lets out another laugh and this time you swear you can feel your heart begin to grow.

Gosh, she’s really beautiful.

You wished you could say the words aloud. Part of you was surprised that you couldn’t given how bold you’ve been with Hope regardless of the little amount of time you’ve known her.

As much as you wanted to make some sort of move now, you felt you had to draw the line somewhere.

“Y/n, you’re staring.” Hope tells you in a voice that was just above a whisper.

You blink yourself back to reality, “Sorry,” you say with your voice just as hushed, “It’s just that… I think…” For the first time in your life you have no idea what to say. No witty comment or dumb remark.

You searched her deep blue eyes for an answer you couldn’t find. If anything you felt even more lost the longer you looked into them.

I really want to kiss you right now. Your mouth was open, but no words were willing to come out.

For a second you swore you saw Hope begin to lean forward, but the moment ended rather abruptly thanks to your cell phone ringer.

“Jesus,” you flinch yourself back into reality once again before picking up the phone, “Hello?”

“Y/n, where the hell are you? Vardamus has done a room check twice now and says you haven’t been answering your door.” Lizzie frantically asks you.

“I’ll be there in a second. Just cover for me if he’s still lurking in the halls and tell him I’m knocked out from today’s game.”

“Fine, just hurry your ass up!” She whisper-shouts before hanging up.

You let out a deep and exaggerated sigh, “Well, fun’s over, Marshall,” you grin sadly, “It’s pumpkin time.”

She returns a soft smile back at you, “I guess this is goodbye.”

“I’ll only say goodbye if it means we’re gonna say hello again,” you tell her as you rise to your feet.

“Well, then let's not say goodbye,” she says while you help her up, “Maybe if we just say goodnight instead, that's gotta mean we'll see each other again.”

You look down at her with a smirk, “That's all I need, Marshall.”

Hope rolls her eyes with a smile she couldn't contain. Just when you thought she’d walk away, she takes you by surprise as she presses a small kiss on your wounded cheek, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You bite the sides of your cheeks to keep your smirk from turning into the goofiest looking smile you could possibly imagine, “Goodnight, Hope,” you say, finally turning back to make your way towards the school.

At this point, you couldn’t tell if the heat in your face was from the kiss or the punch.

~

taglist: @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch @sodangtired @idek-5

heyooo i know it's been a minute, but i hope you enjoyed this slightly longer chapter... again, i can't say how long it'll be until part 7 but i'll get to working on it as soon as possible! thanks for all your love and support for this series everyone, it really means a lot to me <3

[noritoshiikamo]

this is how you fall in love

pairing: kuroo tetsuroo + fem!oc genre: friends into lovers fluff with slight suggestive end tags//warning: nothing major // slight suggestive at the end if you squint enough note: the obligatory trio of mine: not well edited, lowercase intended, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it. o wow look ive been posting back to back, ive been writing nonstop lately watch me ghost my stories in few weeks guys my brain = rotting, plus lately ive been feeling emotionally abuseddrained so i need something fluffy

listen to this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker + chelsea cutler for maximum feels

“you’re a lifesaver.”

kuroo huffed, eyes rolling back with a small laugh as he unlaced his sneakers and slipped the room slipper on. it was odd to see the gymnasium without any nets or balls sprawled around. the gym has been closed for a week now in preparation for the upcoming open school event and currently under the art club’s jurisdiction. under her jurisdiction with her canvases and paints and it pained him to see her ruining his sacred place. he carried two plastic bags and holding two boba teas in the same hand. he wasn’t sure which one she was more excited for; the boba, the paints she made him ran to an art supply shop or him. she reached out, the bobas in his hand exchanged as she settled it on the floor, and she squealed at the sight of the plastic bag. he frowned.

yup, not him.

tins of different colors of paint that she ran out mid painting that she forgot to buy had her dialing his number and now it’s all here. all thanks to kuroo tetsuro. she grimaced at the price tags; it was costly than her usual one. usually, she would’ve gotten her supplies online, but desperate measure calls for desperate solution. she could always claim her expenses with the club. typical kuroo, she huffed. he always preached about getting the best, not minding the price tags but she’ll be the victim of his nonstop complaining that he’s getting broke every single day. she tucked a stray hair back and mentally counted how much she owed the man as she arranged the tins on the table.

kuroo noticed that look; same look she had when they are in the math class and he clicked his tongue, “tch, you’re not paying.”

“i’m reimbursing you with the club money,” she shook her head and reached for her bag, “please kuroo, it’s so expensive.”

he reached for her wrist and she dropped the tote bag as he invaded her space. kuroo rested the palm of her hand right above his heart, his own around the waist and another under her chin as he tilted her chin up. his heartbeat was erratic, and she flushed. “it’s okay,” he said, softly. her lips formed into a small pout and he fought the urge to just kiss her.

their dynamic is something even kenma couldn’t figure it out.

they weren’t exactly dating. they are friends, close friends, and classmates. it has always been him, her and occasionally yaku; creating the chaotic duo/trio of class 5. they both played volleyballs, both captains while he’s the middle blocker, she’s their female team’s setter. they knew a lot of each other’s friends from other schools; he was the reason why she dated akaashi keiji from the first place. it was selfish of kuroo to admit to bokuto a month after they started dating that he disliked the idea of them together. typical kuroo is no longer snarky, he felt lost, felt like he was losing his other half. so, he confided to his close friend, the simpleton ace.

“you didn’t make any moves, kuroo, you can’t blame them.”

bokuto noted as them both stared at the two setters, playing around the fallen cherry blossoms. bokuto never seen akaashi smiled that much and kuroo could only wished that she smiled the same way to him. kuroo stared at the half bitten onigiri he’d been holding, suddenly every bite he took tasted bitter. every trace of akaashi on her gave him bitter taste. she liked wearing akaashi’s jersey; kuroo longed to see her in his own numbered jersey; she’s his number one after all. her own jersey number is as same as akaashi. it’s not like kuroo could hate anything he did; he treated her well. akaashi was a perfect boyfriend and everyone knew. that’s why kuroo hates him; he gave him no reason to hate the dude. it didn’t last long however, they drifted apart 6 months later, sending her to kuroo’s doorstep soaked in rain.

he stared at her soaked figure with no thoughts in mind.

“he dumped me,” she said, voice hoarse and shivering.

he was alone and was about to leave for kenma’s, but he couldn’t leave her alone. dropping his keys on the small table by the door, he threw his jacket back in the closet. “come in,” he whispered, pulling her figure in. dropping her bag on the floor, she clutched on his sleeves as she kicked off her soaking shoes. “i’m sorry, my mom isn’t home and i can’t find my keys,” she was a blabbering mess and he hushed her. he left her for a few minutes, coming back with a steaming towel and a clean shirt and pants. “it’s from the dryer. you can borrow my sister’s clothes,” grabbing her hands, they ran upstairs where he took her to the bathroom. she was too quiet, so he called her name. when she looked up to him, her eyes were red. she was no longer crying, more confused and upset. her cheeks flushed and he could see her teeth chattering. he wished nothing but to throw his fist at the man. finally, he got a reason to square up the stoic man; he always hates the way nothing could riled up akaashi.

“he’s stupid for doing you like this.”

she shook her head, “it’s nobody’s fault.”

“then stop blaming yourself,” he ruffled her hair, a small smile appeared from the corner of her lips as she watched him disappeared closing the door behind him. he left her with the hot water running, urgently grabbing the mop and bucket from the kitchen, and wiping the trail of her soaked feet has left before it could ruin the wooden floor.

cant come over, busy, ill tell u later

kuroo texted kenma. the pudding head left him on read.

they spend the night together, sitting on the floor with pillows pilling against the end of the bed as they sat in arms. he had his tv opened to one of the late-night game show. they sat in silence, her head rested on his shoulder and her lips pressed into a tiny line. at the corner of his eyes, he could see her phone’s notifications blaring despite being on mute. the number isn’t saved but it was familiar. she deleted his number already, probably out of rage, but it’s a good step.

tell me where you want me to drop your stuff im sorry i hope youre okay y/n? i heard it was storming did you make it back home? give me a call im calling you okay?

just as like what the message stated, the unknown number called her. it startled her which startled him too. she stared down on the screen, he noticed the grip on the phone and wondered how the phone did not break yet. “can you answer it for me?” she said, holding the phone out to the black-haired man. shocked, he took the phone and pressed the green button. he pressed the phone to his ear and heard her name being called.

“hey man,” kuroo cleared his throat, “listen-”

“she’s with you?” the voice- akaashi asked.

looking down on the girl who was pretending to not have any interest in the call at all, eyes focused on the gameshow, kuroo sighed.

“she is. listen, i think you should leave her alone.”

“kuroo, i know about your feelings. for her. bokuto-san told me about it. if you think that this is the proper way to get her when she’s vulne-”

kuroo bit the inside of his cheeks. he was offended that akaashi dared to call him out like that. “so, what? she made her pick,” the girl turned to face him, brows up wondering what they are talking about.

“that’s low, even for you, kuroo-san.”

their eyes met. he didn’t even realize how deep the cut on his palm where he had balled his fingers into a fist until she touched it. he calmed down. “you hurt her. you have no right to say what’s low or not. be a bigger man, leave her alone,” he muttered flatly, before ending the call. they didn’t break eye contact until he realized what he had done.

“i-i shouldn’t have done that.”

she shook her head, “stop blaming yourself,” a small smile on her face.

that was 3 months ago.

kuroo had made moving on easy for her. akaashi and her remained friendly, although kuroo noticed that she tended to avoid him when possible. the breakup was indeed mutual, but merely on the fact that he lost feelings. akaashi had fallen out of love with her and in love with some other girl but who was she to judge when she was falling in love with the rooster head in silence. they still hang out with bokuto and akaashi but rarely with the latter.

she made him apologized to the fukurodani’s setter too and they remained on friendly term, still practiced together whenever they have training camps together where akaashi had admitted one training night that kuroo and her looks better together. kuroo didn’t say anything, not that he knew what to reply to that (his mind scream fuck yeah we do) but shrugged at his statement. “i guess dating her made you less pain in the ass, kuroo-san,” akaashi joked as they resumed the game.

kuroo was pulled back to reality when he felt his lips brushed against something. his eyes widened when he realized what it was. a quick kiss from her. he blinked frantically, trying to comprehend what had just happened which caused the girl to laugh. “did you just?” he asked confused by what had just happened which she nodded. she bit her bottom lip to hold herself from bursting into a laugh. “god, you should see your face. it’s so stupid. and every girl called you the playboy captain huh?”

he huffed and rolled his eyes, “i am not. i’ve been loyal to one girl for many years now, she is the one who hasn’t notice me at all,” he faked his pout, refused to look her directly in the eyes, praying that she wouldn’t notice his reddening cheeks.

“she must’ve been so stupid,” she teased, her nose rubbing gently against his jawline as she rested her figure against his closer. his chin rested against her head.

“she is,” he looked down on her, his arms around her waist tighter, “i don’t think she knows this but if she leaves me, i think i’ll be so broken inside. is it selfish to say that?” a small frown appeared on her face.

“i don’t think she ever talked about leaving you.”

a grin grew on his face, “so you know who i’m talking about huh?” she fell into his trap. she rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out, calling him stupid. he studied her face, his grin softened into what yaku and his volleyball team called the kuroo is stupidly in love with y/n but refused to admit face. his fingers ran into her hair which she had been growing out in few months down to her shoulder because she thinks that he likes her better that way. the way she tried to subtly put on make up to look better that the other girls who’s shamelessly flirting with him. she was too stupid to realize that he had loved her beyond that.

he loves the rough pads on her hands from holding her paintbrushes and volleyball. he loves that she works hard for everything she’s doing be it studying, volleyball or arts, she would put her blood, sweat and tears into it. he loves that she would wait for him to buy lunch so they can eat together in class. he would buy her a box of milk which she insisted that she doesn’t need too; but he convinced it would be good for her. he wants the best for her.

he loves that all the missing clothes he’s complaining about is in the back of her closet or on her. his cream hoodie hanging behind her closet door, his random pile of t-shirts in a basket on the floor of her closet that he liked to left beside the mix pile of her shoes and his one big ass nike shoes. her room isn’t messy, it is because she kept the messiness in her closet. she also like to keep random stuff of him too. the one medal he won from a science fair hung on the headboard of her bed, the misshapen looking hand wax sculpture of their hands intertwined from a funfair where she rested a purikura of them on it and a lucky bamboo plant he gave on her birthday to compromise on the no gift rule.

“for luck,” he grinned.

unlike hers, he kept her item neatly in his drawer. your spare shirts that he borrowed and refused to return, extra towel and her toiletries, some of her drawing blocks and a small cat shaped pouch where she kept her allergies medication. mostly hidden because his annoying friends come over often and would accidentally talk about it in front of his grandparents. but, on his bedside table, he has a cup of pencils by the bed where he collected the art supplies she left behind, random markers and paintbrushes, a clay sculpture of a trinket plate she made from art club (she carved a tiny letter k in the corner beside the obvious looking genitalia drawing) and a fake plant which she was sure he will not be able to kill it.

he loves it when she wore his jersey. he lost his mind when he found out that her current season number is the same as his. he’s in love. the first time he saw her in his jersey, the number one jersey on her body was during their training. he lost concentration; mouth hung a bit. he got so flustered that he let lev served the ball straight to his head. usually, lev would be dead by now, but he doesn’t mind. his nose bled but to see her kneel beside him, clutching on his own shirt screaming how stupid he is, wiping the blood away with towel, he could only say how pretty she looked. all his teammates were startled, her included. she clutched on his collar angrily; her knees stung from when she leaped down to his side, but this idiot could only smile at her with a bloody nose. “you are fucking idiot,” she cried out angrily, pushing him away before throwing the towel on his face leaving the pleased third year laying on the floor.

he loves the way she would find a way to impress him, be it as ridiculous as the halloween costume idea she had where they’ll go as the front and end of a horse or as serious as the submitted college application to the same university he had gotten into. “you are not getting rid of me that easily, tetsu,” the evil look on her face as she clicked the submit button send shivers down his spine.

“if you leave, i think i’ll cry,” he confessed, his smile slowly died.

“kuroo tetsuro is going to cry after me?” she teased. he nodded eagerly. “does kuroo tetsuro realized that we are literally moving into the same university? i couldn’t catch a break from him,” she faked her annoyance which he playfully avenged by sending her on the floor laughing as he tickled her. tears trickled down her cheeks as she begged him to stop, screaming to get away from his grip. “please, kuroo, i’m going to pee if you don’t stop!” he obliged, tears prickled the corner of his own eyes from laughing too much. straddling her waist, he gathered her wrists in one hand over her head. “apologize and said that kuroo tetsuro is the best man in your life or i swear i’ll make you pee,” he threatened her playfully, wiggling the fingers of his free hand close to her waist. her eyes widened in fears.

“that’s not fair!”

“apologize first.”

“fine!” she pouted, “i’m sorry, i won’t make fun of you again. now get off me!”

he raised his eyebrow, “andddd?”

“annddd-” a teasing smile appeared on her face as she said the next 5 words that send him to mars and back; “i love you kuroo tetsuro.”

he froze in shock. he heard the words before but never in this way; never for him.

finally, i think i got the calculation, love you yaku! lev you’re adorable but so stupid, i love it! thank you for letting me borrow your game, kenma. you’re the best, love ya!

the grip on her wrists loosened. taking advantage of his shock state, she pushed him back, straddling him by the waist, pinning his own hands above his head, giving him the taste of his own medicine. “i’m not going to leave your sorry ass, tetsu. i hope you don’t regret it,” she leaned down, capturing his lips with a longer kiss. letting go of his wrist, her hand went immediately into his rooster hair while another cupped his cheek, deepening their kiss. she could feel his cold palm resting against her bare waist and she shuddered. between the kisses, he heard her whispering his name. “kuroo, do you love me too?” she asked so innocently with kisses between the words but the way she grabbed a handful of his hand in a fist felt so dirty, eliciting a strangled moan from the back of his throat. she pulled back, staring down on his eyes as his lips moved.

“i love you too.”

nothing in his hazel eye but sincerity. he groaned when she pulled herself out of his reach, missing her warm body as she laughed. straightening her sweater back, pulling her hair back up into a tighter ponytail before she picked up the paintbrush she dropped. the paintbrush left a white stain on the court. as if kuroo wasn’t here, whimpering underneath her a minute ago, she continued her work. “i need to finish the mural by this week and you’re not exactly helping me,” she warned him, pointing the wet brush his direction. through the corner of her eyes, he was propped on his elbows, still staring at her, causing her to blush profusely. it annoyed him that she would tease him, then leaving him high and dry. before she could crack open the new paint tin, he ignored her warning as he tackled her back into his arms.

breathless against her lips, he told her to continue later. the urgency and rawness of his voice made her putty immediately. looking up the man, she pouted her lips.

“kuroo-san,” she whined as he captured her bottom lips.

he elicited a soft moan from the girl. he grinned against her lips. a hand rested firmly beside her head while another snaked under the sweater. there will be bruise tomorrow, she was sure of it, he will make sure of it.

“it will be quick, baby. i promise.”

she has no objection.

[amindofstone]

Jolly sailor

{

a/n: Dream a little dream with me and imagine. Imagine Luffy being able to save Ace and him making it out of the Marineford. Imagine him taking Whitebeards place as the captain and keeping the crew together. Now imagine...

Words: 5164 (I´m sorry my fingers didn´t stop typing.)

Genre: anime imagine?

Warnings: Maybe grammar or spelling mistakes. (I genuinely apologize. English is not my mother tongue and I´m really trying to improve. So please be so kind and have mercy)

Character(s): Portgas D. Ace x reader (Serena)

Info: For better reading keep in mind that the words in italic are Serenas (readers) train of thoughts. And the words put between a note “” are the lyrics of the song “Jolly Sailor Bold” I was inspired by.

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. This took me a lot of time. So please respect me as the writer and my work. Piczure is not mine. Credits to the rightful owner (Twitter: @tsuyomaru1a). !!!

}

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“Mommy?”, said the boy sitting at the dining table, while trying to focus on his drawing. Serena, the mother of the boy with the raven black hair hummed in response without looking up from her painting. “Where you ever at the Grand Line or the New World?”, Serena who was painting the person that appeared in her dreams last night, stopped in her tracks and looked at the direction the little boy was sitting at. The question of her son caught her by surprise what made her look at him quite dumbfounded. “Ehm… Dear, where did that question come from now?”, she asked while she put her brush aside. The little boy who still wasn´t looking up shrugged his shoulders and gave an answer what could also have been that from his father. “Probably somewhere from the corner of my brain.”, he answered and looked his mother in the eyes. He knew that his way of talking resembled that of his father a lot what always surprised his mother when he talked because he rarely was home, but still he managed to sound like him. So every time he said something his father also could have said, his mother would stop doing whatever she was busy with at the moment and just stare at him with the same loving eyes she looked at his father. And every time she did so, he always tried to never miss the sight of that, because it made him proud to see that he could make his mother happy with such a simple thing.

“Well yes, I grew up on an island on the Grand Line until my teenage years. After I turned 20 I guess I ended up somewhere in the New World where I also met your father. But you already know that so why ask me that?”, Serena slowly approached her son and sat down next to him. Her son Faun, who seemed to be thinking about something deeply, put his pen down and intended to ask another question when he stopped himself by putting his small hand over his mouth. The little gesture made the brunet haired woman next to him laugh. Faun was now slowly looking back to his mothers face and tried to form a proper sentence. “May I.. ehm.. ask you some questions about… well about… you and… dad?”, although the young boy knew that his mother did not like talking about her past he always wanted to know so much about her. He always tried to ask her some questions but she somehow always managed to get out of those situations by changing the topic or making him forget what he wanted from her. Even now he had no hope of hearing her tell him her and his dad’s story. He was about to apologize and get back to his drawing when she took him in her arms and left her atelier behind. “Mom? Where are we going?”, asked the confused little boy. But Serena just smiled at him lovingly and kept walking. When she did not reply to him he decided to keep quiet and see what´s going to happen. Little did he know that she was going to tell him the story he always wanted to hear. Serena walked into her bedroom and placed her usually talkative son on the bed she slept on alone for the last eight months. Sitting on his mother’s bed, Faun was following her steps with his eyes. While she was busy taking a box out of her closet. After taking the box out of its place she closed the doors to her closed and walked back to her son and sat down next to him on the bed that seemed to be bigger than usually since she slept alone on it.

“Tell me Faun. I do know that you saw pictures of me when I was younger but did you ever saw a picture of your father when he was younger or a child?”, the Question caught the ten years old boy by surprise what made him blink a few times. But he quickly pulled himself together and shook his head a bit to fast. She gave him a loving smile and went through his raven black hair. “In that case I´ll start telling you something about your father with some pictures of him and that of some others. Alright?”, the look the incredibly beautiful boy gave her was worth to be photographed but she did not dare to leave him just to go and get a camera so she just took him in her arms and kissed his cheek while laughing. “You have pictures of Dad, when he was younger?! Wow! Was he good looking? Was he as muscular as he is now?”, curiosity rolled over Serena’s son what made him ask one question after another. It took him a while until she could calm him down and make him focus on what she is going to tell him so she took her time and let him talk for a while. While he did so she couldn´t stop thinking about his father, her husband. The man who stole her heart, her mind and her soul.

A man every person feared and respected at the same time. A man whose story was spread around the world like that of a tale. Whose story was seen as that of a hero who also played the villain at the same time. The name of that man is well known. A tale with a title that can create any kind of emotions when read. A title made of just a name. A name that was and forever will be the cause of her racing her heart and trembling hands. A name that was engraved in her heart and carried by her soul with so much love and passion that it caused her pain. A name that was always on her mind. Portgas D. Ace.

I wonder how he is doing right now. Is he alright? Is he hurt? Is he getting enough sleep?

“Mom? Is everything ok?”, Serena got lost in her thoughts thinking about the man who promised her to come see her every four months and forgot that she had her son sitting in front of her. “Mom is everything alright? You look sad. Did I upset you?”, the huge smile that was lingering on the plum red lips of her son was now gone. Serena knew that Faun was not the child he used to be. A little boy she could trick with a smile or by changing the topic. He no longer was the naïve boy he used to be. He was a mature 10 years old boy. For her taste even to mature but Luffy said that he is just like Ace himself. He told her stories about him as a 10 years old boy who was also really mature for his age and who did things she could never think of.

🎼 Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray. Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay. 🎼

Faun was about to call his mother again when she took a deep breath and started to speak in a soft calm voice. A voice that was so beautiful that could make any person weak in their knees. Her voice what was one of the many things Ace fell in love with.

“It was a calm and warm morning on the island I was living in at that time.”, Faun was taken aback for a second but quickly understood that she was telling him what he always wanted to hear. So he sat back and listened. “It was a huge island but not many people lived there. There was a small village of probably just 100 people. They were really nice people. Each of them was friendly and respectful, with caring and funny personalities. I loved them from the bottom of my heart. As you know my beloved Faun, I am half mermaid but they never judged me because of that. I fact they never made me feel out of place. They helped me and my father every day. They brought me my favorite sweets, my fathers favorite dishes and clothes for the both of us. When my mother came visiting us they would treat her like any other person on the island. They loved me and my small family so much that they even where ready to fight for us when one of the most strongest pirates stopped at the island and asked for my father. It was really funny because my father knew the pirates but they still were suspicious and didn´t trust them a bit. When my father invited some of them to our house the women of the village would come and literally drag me out of my house and keep me in theirs until they left.”, the memories of the village and the time she spend there made her emotional. She missed all of them. They turned in just a short period into her family. A family that loved her more than she ever deserved.

“Now guess who those pirated were my father knew?”, Faun did exactly was his mother asked him to do. He thought and came up with a bunch of famous pirate names but each time she said no. When he looked at his mother with a mad and frustrated sigh, a chuckle left her and she sat her son in between her legs and placed a kiss on his head. “It were the Whitebeard pirates, who are now called …”, before she could finish the sentence her son finished it with big eyes filled by amazement. “… the White Fire pirates. Grandpa knew Whitebeard?! But how?”, Serena smiled at her son and opened the box she previously took out of her closet. The box was filled with different pictures. Some by people he instantly recognized and some by people he didn´t knew. “My father was part of the Whitebeard crew and was in the fifth division. And what made this division so special was that it was called the swordsmen division. And yes. Before you start to freak out again, Grandpa is a swordfighter.”, it only took a second for the boy to lose control over himself again and to start jumping around out of excitement. “Oh Mother! You have to tell me more! Why did you never said that Grandpa was so awesome?!”, a small giggle left Serena before she took her sons hand in hers and sat him down in front of her again. “Father was an amazingly strong pirate and on top of that a good man. That´s why he was so loved by the village.”, Serena took out a picture of her father when he was in his forties and Serena just 19. Faun looked at the picture with an open mouth and talked without thinking. A habit he had from Ace. “No offense but he looks older than he is now on the picture. How can one look so old? And no wonder dad fell in love with you. You were beautiful! But now you are even more beautiful. Don´t tell dad but you even look better than him. Just a bit though!!”, the words that left the young boys mouth made Serena laugh. How come he is so much like his father when he´s barely home and with us?

“You really need to stop telling him that he looks so old. Otherwise he won´t come see us anymore.”, Serena let Faun still look at the pictures of her and her father when she took out a picture of Ace as a young man in the age of just 20.

🎼 Conversing with a young lass, who seem'd to be in pain. Saying, William, when you go I fear you'll ne'er return again. 🎼

“The day they came to our island was not one to be happy. It was a sad reunion between my father and the pirates. A lot of their crew mates where hurt and some of them were even close to death. They needed help and a new captain. One of those who were about to die was your father my dear Faun. Uncle Marco who is the commander of the first division was worried to death because he couldn´t help him. He was just able to keep him alive while he was in coma. And this is when I meet him for them first time. Badly injured and with a weakly beating heart that threatened to stop keeping him alive. My father called me and convinced me to heal him since I ate from a devil fruit that gave me the ability to heal people. Marco and the other commanders talked to me and promised me to give me anything I wanted when I would promise them to heal Ace. Their friend, their commander and the man they would die for.”. the memories of Ace when he was close to death made her realize how worried she was about him now. Ace, who was now her husband. He should have been here four months ago. He should have came and see her and their son but he didn´t came. He did not reply to any of her letters in the last two months. Her heart clenched with the thought of him getting hurt and she started to cry. “Mom? Why are you crying?”, She didn´t wanted her son to see her cry and make him worried. She didn´t wanted him to lose hope in his father and the promise that he´ll come see them again. So she wiped her tears away and smiled. “It´s just that I miss my old hometown. It’s nothing serious.”, Faun hugged his mother and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “No need to be sad. When dad comes home we can ask him how Grandpa is doing because he always visits him whenever he comes back home. Now please stop crying and show me your smile. I want to see your dimples and kiss them just like dad does whenever you’re sad!” Ace. Just know that although you might not be here with me and although I am left alone with my longing for you and the painful emptiness in my heart caused by your absence, the presence of our son takes all of that away from me.

Serena gave her son the smile he asked her to show him and instantly got showered with kisses. “Are you feeling better Mom? If not I give you more kisses and hug you for hours just like a koala does a tree. No wait. I hold onto you like a sloth holds onto a tree! Yes that´ll do for sure. Wait no! Sloths aren´t cute though….”, the adorable nonsense her son talked managed to make her laugh again. Marco was right; although father and son are not always together they are alike. Even to the point Faun sometimes looks like Ace´s clone. “Now what happened next? Please tell me more.”, Serena nodded and showed him more pictures.

🎼 My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold. 🎼

“It took us a long time until all of the men were healthy again. But it took us the most making sure Ace was back to his normal state. Although he had the power of the fire fruit it took a long time until he was fully healthy. That caused a lot of them to be worried since they planned to make him to their new captain at that time.”, Serena showed Faun pictures of some of the Commanders and Ace when he suddenly said something that made her blush. But as quickly as the pink shade crept up her cheeks as quickly did it also leave and that only because of the words of her little boy. “That’s a great story but how did you and dad fall in love? Can you tell me that? Uncle Marco told me that Dad is the main cause of any problem they have and a risky captain. He never backs off from any fight, what I also do and forever will but compared to him you are his total opposite. You are calm and he is loud. He is ready to take risks you try to avoid anything that is close to being a bit difficult. It´s like a normal civilian and a princess that ended up as a couple. How did you to end up marring?”, Serena looked at his son with an unreadable gaze lingering upon her. She was shocked by his words but also in the verge of laughing out loud. At the end she wasn´t able to keep her laughter in and started to laugh. While she was holding her stomach from the pain her son was looking at her with an emotionless face. “What did I say?”, with a slightly tilted head the green eyed boy was looking up at his mother with confusion written all over his face. “Oh dear!”, Serena wiped the tears away that fell on her cheeks before she started to talk again. “I do understand what you mean but don´t you know the saying opposites attracts? But going honest I have to admit that it did take us both a while before we actually understood that we had feelings for each other. In those weeks where I took care of him and his crew while they decided on how to start all over again as pirates, I started to get happy whenever he was around me. I turned into the happiest living being whenever he called me or asked me for a favor. Whenever he needed anything I was the first one to go get that. No matter what it was. I loved him but I couldn´t believe it at the beginning until he and his crew left the island. Days and nights passed and I got sadder whenever I saw something that reminded me of him. I couldn´t sleep. I couldn´t eat. I was lost and felt empty. I was restless and somehow just existing. One day I got a letter. The envelop had just my name on it and nothing else. But somehow I still knew that is was from your father. The letter itself had no actual beginning nor and ending. The content of the letter wasn´t anything special but still made me more than just happy. If any other person would have read it they would have been disappointed and wouldn´t think about it. They even would have called it unnecessary and nonsense. But to me it was more than that. It was special because it made me feel like he thought about me and the time he was on the island. You know what made it so special was that fact that he started his writing where our talking ended before he left. This was the beginning of us getting closer. The love I had for him, the sentence anyone who was in love would have probably said hundreds of times never left my mouth nor had a place in my letters for him. He on his side did also never mention those three magical words. I don´t know about him but I was way to scared to say it out loud or write it down. I was scared that he might not feel the same and just see me as a good friend. But my heart was telling me otherwise. I was always praying to read those three words in one of his letters but never was disappointed when he did not write it down. Getting those letters and writing mine for him was a feeling I could never explain. I was filled by pure joy and love whenever I read his letters or wrote for him.”, Serena talked and talked. She told him anything she could think of while her heart was racing and her eyes were fixed on her hand with the ring he proposed to her. She remembers all those little moments with him. All those months and years of her crying over him. She remembers all those restless nights filled by the pained sobs that left her, accompanied by her aching and longing heart. She didn´t realized but while the memories of the man she would die for slowly made their way back to her mind a single tear fell down her cheek what made her realize how much she missed him and his touch. His voice calling her name and his laugh that would always light up her days.

🎼 His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal. My happiness attend him wherever he may go. 🎼

Serena knew that she shouldn´t be crying in front of Faun so she kept the pain and the tears that threaded to fall back for later. But still she missed his presence more than ever. Eight months passed and he did not come back home. He should have been back four months ago. She should be getting letters from him every one or two weeks but nothing came. She was worried to death and couldn´t bear the pain anymore. She was scared of losing him. She was sacred to open the newspaper and read an article about his death. She wanted him to quit being a pirate and do whatever Garp would tell him. She wanted him to be save. Save, happy and at home. But she knew that his happiness is not only made of her and their son but also by sailing and being the free man he always wished to be. He wanted to be just like the man who saved him and gave him a reason to live. The man he called father from the bottom of his heart. The man he owns his life. She knew her wish of him being with her was selfish. She knew that she was selfish for wanting him to quit being a pirate but what else could she do? She was scared to death. She wanted him to be next to her. Somewhere she could take care of him and hold him. Kiss him and tell him how much she loved him. How much he meant to her. He was her life. The reason why she kept living. The reason she woke up every morning. He was the reason of her happiness.

But she put everything aside and let him be. She let him do whatever he wanted to do. She let him do whatever his heart desired and made him happy. Just so she could see him smile. He deserved it. He deserves to be happy and loved. He suffered enough in his life and deserves to be carefree now.

🎼 From Tower Hill to Blackwall. I'll wander, weep and moan. All for my jolly sailor until he sails home. 🎼

Faun was looking at a picture that showed his mother and his father at their wedding that was held on the main flagship of the White Fire Pirates, when he realized that his mother stopped talking. He looked at her and followed her gaze that was lingering upon her hand with her wedding ring. He saw her eyes that were filled with tears and was irritated since her lips were showing a beautiful smile. He wanted to say something and console her but he knew that he should not do anything since it might make it even worse. He knew that if he started consoling her by telling her that father was alright she might lose it all and break down. He knew his mother well. She was a soft hearted woman with a heart of gold. Although she was a strong woman with admirable fighting abilities she still was a woman in love after all. He remembers his Grandfather telling him that no matter how strong a person is. When they’re in love their strength can´t save them from the pain love brings. Faun was lost.

He didn´t wanted his mother to cry. When he asked her to tell him something about his father he didn´t wanted her to cry. He felt bad and started to tear up. Guilt took over him and he started to shed tears. “I´m sorry mother! I made you cry. I made you think about your past. I´m sorry.”, the son of the emperor was now hugging his mother while apologizing over and over again. “No my dear. It is not your guilt. And who says that I´m crying? See I´m all good. There is nothing to feel bad about. Hear me out. It it getting late. How about we get ready for bed? I tell you more about your father some other day. Alright?”, Faun who was still hugging his mother just nodded while soft sobs left him. The pained mother took her sons face in her hands and put a kiss on his forehead with a smile on her lips. She took his hand in hers and led him into the bathroom and prepared him for the night. And just like any other night she started to sing his favorite song. Usually Faun would never dare to make her stop since it calmed him down and made him feel loved and special. But tiday was different. There was a question lingering on his mind he needed an answer to. So he called for the woman he loved the most and made her stop singing to him not even half way through the song. “Mom I have a question. Is dad alright? Will he ever come back?”, when Serena thought that nothing’s going to worsen the pain in her chest her own flesh and blood proved her wrong. It took her a lot of courage and strength to put on a bright smile and answer him with a stabile and confident voice. “Of course he is doing fine. He is Fire fist Ace after all, isn´t he? And why shouldn’t he come back home? There is no reason to think that. Your father loves you more than anything on this planet. Believe it or not but he loves you even more than he loves Uncle Luffy or Uncle Sabo.”, the words of the half mermaid made the young boys sad face turn into a bright happy one with a huge smile upon his lips. “Thank you mother. Could you maybe continue with the song? I really love hearing it before falling asleep.”, Serena who was laying down next to her son nodded and continued singing the song not only he loved but also his father.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold. My father is a merchant, the truth I now will tell and in great London City in opulence doth dwell. His fortune doth exceed 300,000 gold and he frowns upon his daughter, who loves a sailor bold. A fig for his riches, his merchandise and gold. True love has grafted my heart, give me my sailor bold. My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold. Should he return in pov'rty from o'er the ocean far to my tender bosom, I'll press my jolly tar. My sailor is as smiling as the pleasant month of May. And often we have wandered through Ratcliffe Highway. Many a pretty blooming young girl we did behold. Reclining on the bosom of her jolly sailor bold. My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold”

Soft snores could be heard what signalized her that the little man she was singing to was now fast asleep. With a last kiss put on his head and a softly whispered “Goodnight my little treasure.”, she left his room and closed the door as soundless as possible. Her atelier she was working on before was still not cleaned up so she made her way back to her beloved work place and started to clean everything up. The song she sang her son before was not finished yet so she began singing where she stopped.

“My name it is Serena a merchant's daughter fair. And I have left my parents and three thousand pounds a year. Come all you pretty fair maids. Who ever you may be. Who love a jolly sailor that plows the raging sea. While up aloft in storm from me his absence mourn. And firmly pray arrive the day he's never more to roam. My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me but my jolly sailor bold”, usually she would now repeat the song since it ended but the sight that life offered her did not only made her stop in her tracks but also made her drop anything she had in her hands. “I´m not sure if the original owner of this song would be really fond of hearing you change the name Maria with your own. I mean, it does sound beautiful but still, I´m just saying.”, Serena did not know what to do. She was overwhelmed with the situation and could not believe what she was seeing. A few minutes ago she was talking about him and lost hope of ever being able to see him again. She told her mind a few days ago that it shall stop hurting her more and forget him. But now she felt like she did not only betray herself but also him, who was now standing in front of her in all his glory. “Ace?”, tears she kept in all these day couldn´t be hold back anymore and made their way out. One after another wetted her cheeks and made her vision get blurry. She couldn´t believe what she was seeing. She told herself that he is not real but rather a trick played by her heart, mind and soul. She told herself to stop crying since he was not here with her. She told herself that her husband was somewhere in the New World and that she should stop crying, when the person who was the cause of all of her pain came closer and gave her a reassuring hug. As if he knew that she couldn´t believe her eyes and wanted her to believe. He wanted her to believe in him and his person that was truly standing in front of her. “Ace?”, she looked up in his eyes with tears still falling down his cheeks. “Love, I´m home.”, not knowing what to do himself the emperor placed his lips on those of his wives with the hope to get rid of the pain in his chest that accompanied him all those lonely night.

[hotchnisslovechild]

On the Sidelines

Chapter One

Holly and Marvyn meet and have a few beers.

A/N: i've recently fallen in love with the show big shot and grown quite attached to the relationship between holly and marvyn. i'll be needing something to hold me over as i wait for season 2 to be announced and released *fingers crossed*, so i thought i'd write a little something about these two. i’m not sure if any of you on here watch the show at all, but i feel like posting this here anyway. i recommend binging the first season of the show on disney+ :)

Pairing: Marvyn Korn/Holly Barrett (Big Shot) Rating: T Word Count: 2,302 AO3 Link

Today is the day. The day Holly gets to meet her new coaching partner and the team meets their new head coach. Changing into her practice clothes, something resembling both anxiety and excitement burrows itself in Holly’s nerves. Her thoughts run wild as she anticipates meeting the great Coach Marvyn Korn for the first time.

Holly would be lying if she said she didn’t have a little crush on Coach Korn. Of course, she admired his great looks, but she found his coaching to be just as fascinating, if not more. Watching him coach was electrifying. He’s animated, excited, always moving around, unable to sit still for a single play. He saw the court and everything happening all at once, managing his players like a brilliant conductor of an orchestra. She learned a lot from him by studying his coaching methods at Wisconsin from the comfort of her living room couch. He unknowingly taught her about defensive schemes and rotations, end-of-game scenarios, the importance of teaching your players every detail of the game and correcting their mistakes so they can improve. He undoubtedly loved the game and coaching it. His enthusiasm for the sport was infectious to his team in every game, and it paid off. That was until he threw it all away. And ended up here, at an all-girls private high school in California.

Taking a deep breath, the assistant coach walks into her office, her excited nerves to make a good impression mingling with her eagerness to get the season started with a new coach.  After tapping Shave and a Haircut on the window separating her office from Marvyn’s, she lets herself in, extending a hand to greet him.

“Holly Barrett, Assistant Coach,” she greets with an enthusiastic smile, borderline out of breath from the anticipation of finally meeting him. She studies him. His looks. His demeanor. He looks better than he did on TV — if that’s even possible. She finds his dark features beguiling. And those eyes. She could get lost in those light-colored eyes. There’s a lack of actual light in them, however. He seems unenthused, maybe a bit on edge. But she shrugs it off, attributing the lack of energy to nervousness.

“Marvyn Korn,” he says, shaking her outstretched hand, holding on to it a bit longer than necessary, caught off guard by the bright energy of the woman standing before him. She’s the first person at this school to greet him in a way that resembles any sort of kindness. No one at Westbrook wants him there. Hell, he doesn’t even want to be there. This is just one step towards getting back to college ball.

“It’s a great honor, Coach,” she says, letting go of his hand and walking towards the front of his desk, “I’m a big fan. You have no idea,” she admits, trying her hardest not to come across as creepy or weird. They are going to be working together pretty closely for the next few months, so she wants to start things off right with him, not scare him away or freak him out. She’s sure he’s already a bit freaked out being transplanted into an all-girls high school after coaching college men for so many years, and she’s not caught off guard when he then asks her for advice on coaching girls.

“Well, I'm tempted to say just treat 'em like the boys,” she starts, debating whether or not she wants to continue that thought. It’s probably not the best idea to offend the head coach on his first day on the job.

“But?” he pushes.

“You didn't treat the boys so well,” she answers matter-of-factly.

“Do you have any advice that might actually be helpful?”

She tells him that the girls on this Westbrook team are future leaders who are anxious to get started and can be a bit much. “Don’t pretend, they’ll see right through it,” she adds finally. And I’ll see right through it she thinks. “Other than that… let’s go coach some basketball,” she says brightly.

Marvyn tries his best not to roll his eyes as he gets up from his chair and heads onto the court to meet the girls. He doesn’t want to be there. He doesn’t want to coach a bunch of rich high school girls. Everything about this gig is a demotion for him. From college to high school. From men to girls. His disregard for this job is anything but hidden as he walks out of his office, dreading the official start of his role as Head Basketball Coach at Westbrook.

Holly follows closely behind him, excited and ready for a fresh start with a new coach to work with. Their previous coach had been nothing short of insufferable, constantly telling Holly she had no say in the team, diminishing her role as a coach, making it clear she was not in charge. Despite his harshness towards Holly, he coddled the girls on the team, always telling them what they wanted to hear. The lack of discipline never got the team anywhere, but Holly bit her tongue, knowing that whatever she had to say didn’t matter to her then-colleague. Marvyn gives her a sliver of hope for the team’s future and hers. She knows Marvyn will run things differently, and she hopes that this change will be a good change.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

After one practice and not even one drink into their casual rendezvous at a sports bar, Holly concludes that Marvyn certainly is different from their previous coach, but she’s hesitant to consider the change a positive one. He takes the game too seriously, prioritizes the end goal of winning and success over the feelings of the girls on the team. To him, they are just pawns in his own lifelong game of basketball. They are X’s and O’s, not individuals worthy of being treated with respect. He practically committed every sin of working with teens in the book. He demeaned them, embarrassed them, and disrespected them all in the span of one practice.

“My life is basketball,” he begins, “Everyone in my life are basketball players. A good coach can't be successful if he becomes friends with his players.”

“What about after work?”

“There is no after work. Not if you wanna win. There's diagramming plays, there's watching tapes, the recruiting, but there's no after work.”

Holly lets out a breath. His version of reality is nearly incomprehensible to her. Never in her life has she met someone more polarizing and stuck in his way than this man in a tracksuit sitting in the booth with her. She almost feels sorry for him. He doesn’t have any friends, and he spends all of his time thinking about basketball and how to make his team better.

“I guess I don't have to ask what happened to your marriage,” Holly says boldly, venturing into the untouched territory of his personal life as she takes a sip of her beer.

“Nope. What happened to yours?” he returns. He checked her out in the teacher portal the day before. He’s all about preparation, and that does not exclude doing some research on his assistant coach.

Her eyes grow wide. How the hell did he know I was previously married? She thinks to herself. “None of your business,” she retorts, sidestepping his question as she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, not wanting to air out her dirty laundry in front of her colleague, especially considering they just met some few hours ago.

“It is my business. Add to that, you opened the door because you asked about my marriage.” She scoffs in response, now regretting bringing up the topic of failed marriages.

Marvyn opens up about his divorce first, telling her that his wife left him, which Holly deduces was because Marvyn is such a workaholic. “She figured that she deserved more, that she could do better. So she did,” Marvyn explains. “Your turn.”

“Same,” she utters, wanting nothing to do with this conversation any longer, “He realized he could do better.”

“Why?” He pushes once more, his stubbornness starting to set Holly’s nerves on fire.

“None of your business,” she says, her voice laced with more attitude than she intended.

“If it speaks to your character, it is my business.”

Looking down at her lap, Holly lets out a quick breath. She has her back up again the door of the closet, refusing to expose the skeletons locked in there. Her marital past is not something she’s particularly proud of or that she looks back on with much joy. It’s hard to talk about without feeling embarrassed, feeling ashamed that she had an affair with a man named Matt, who happened to be her husband’s best friend.

The neglect from her husband eventually pushed her over the edge to do what she would never forgive herself for. The person who was supposed to love her the most in this world stopping caring. She was left unfulfilled and disconnected from the man she once loved. He was absent. Even when he was there, he wasn’t actually there. They didn’t even bother to fight anymore. They simply coexisted in a house that no longer felt like home.

She really wasn’t thinking at all when it happened the first time. She had an itch to scratch, and Matt was there.

“I cheated on him,” Holly discloses finally, “I had an affair. Worst thing a spouse can do, I suppose. Short of neglect, maybe,” she explains, purposefully vague, hoping he doesn’t interrogate her further.

“Are you saying my betrayal was worse?” he asks, suddenly feeling defensive.

“I’m saying his was worse. But yeah, yours too, I guess, if that's what you're guilty of.” The weight of her words hangs in the air between them. He watches as she shifts once more in her seat, visibly uncomfortable with the level of openness of the conversation.

Holly sighs. “Wow. This is a really nice ‘How do you do? Let's get a beer’,” she says with a subtle bite of sarcasm, avoiding his gaze and reaching for her beer.

“This isn't a ‘How do you do? Let's get a beer’. You have an agenda.” She rolls her eyes at his accusation, although there is some truth to it. She does have something she wants to talk to him about. “You clearly have an agenda, so get to it.”

“You are profoundly unlikable. You know that, right?” She doesn’t even try to hide the sourness of her tone.

“You're just scratching the surface. If you have something to say to me, please say it. 'Cause I'd like to get back and work on the Laguna game.”

God, he’s so fucking persistent. “Okay.” She set aside her beer, leaning in towards him. “Marvyn, these are high school girls we are working with. I know your tried-and-tested ways of coaching got you far at the collegiate level, but these girls can’t be treated like they are men in college.”

“And why not?” Her point evidently went right over his head.

“Because they are different. They don’t handle criticism like those men do. They take things personal. They won’t be responsive to your derogatory, hotheaded way of giving feedback or your ‘my way or the highway’ mentality. These girls need to be inspired and supported, not embarrassed and disrespected. These girls don’t just kiss the ring. If they aren’t respected, they are going to try to get the upper hand. And they are quite good at it.”

“They’re not gonna get the upper hand with me,” he counters.

“Look at how scared of this you are.” She can’t understand how it’s so hard to just receive these girls as the complex people they are. This team won’t get anywhere if he doesn’t let go of all his unreasonable preconceptions and connect with these girls. He’s so stuck in this mindset that the team is beneath his abilities that he doesn’t realize he could actually learn something from these girls. And he shouldn’t be afraid of that. Holly is always learning new things from her students and players. When is Marvyn going to get it through his head that he can learn from these girls just as much as they can learn from him? It’s a two-way street.

“This is another thing. You don’t know me,” he snaps defensively, “so don’t pretend that you know me.”

“I don’t want to know you,” she says coolly, “I just want what’s best for the team,” she assures him, feigning sincerity, telling him exactly what he wants to hear whether it’s what she wants to say or not.

“Yeah.” He nods his head, thinking she’s finally seeing things from his point of view.

“Is that a good answer?” she asks as she raises her eyebrows, revealing the insincerity of her previous words. His face drops, catching on to her little game. She’s irritatingly clever.

The conversation comes to a quick end, interrupted by the other patrons of the bar cheering and applauding, celebrating a touchdown in the football game playing on all of the TVs.

They find themselves back in that same booth at the same sports bar the next night. As they sip on their beers, Marvyn expresses his doubts about coaching this team, telling Holly that he just doesn’t think he can do it.

“What else?” he asks after bringing up everything that’s happened with the girls in just his two first days, speaking so frantically Holly could hardly keep up. “What the hell else?” His apparent distress over coaching a bunch of high school girls makes her laugh. You would think the world was coming to an end based on how he was acting.

“I know. You're not prepared. Welcome to high school,” she quips.

“I- I had no idea what I was in for.”

Clearly.

[nose-bandaid]

kairosclerosis

hiii i just read your wonwoo fic + sequel in one go !! i love ur writing omg also just an idea - you could write like little spin off drabbles maybe about the growth of their relationship and wonwoo falling in love hehe either way it was a really good read :)) tysm for writing it and happy new year !! stay healthy and happy <3

Wonwoo x (gender neutral) Reader | soulmate AU fluff | 1k

an epilogue to: the moon told me so ☾~ and the little flower on your wrist

synopsis: it’s been a while since wonwoo’s returned and needless to say, things between you two haven’t been perfect — but that’s what life’s all about, right? what matters most is that you’re giving each other a chance; a chance to love each other.

a/n: hi my lovely anon 🥺you’ve asked for this so long ago skjdfhjsd i know you said it’s just a suggestion but still SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY. the drabble ended up becoming more like a oneshot but i’m not complaining... i may write an extension to this in the future, so this may become a chaptered epilogue if they even work like that anyways anyways ily<3

taglist: @elcie-chxn​  [lmk if you’d like to be tagged in my works as well!]

=====

Things started out pretty awkwardly between you and Wonwoo. For many reasons. One was the fact that you hadn't each other in person for the last four years. Another was that neither of you was sure how you wanted to go about this whole dating thing.

Ever since he held your hand at the airport, neither of you made another move. Rather, there was always an awkward distance between you two, and your friends would cast curious glances your way because they swore you told them you were dating each other. Which you were... though the definition of dating may have been skewed.

You did, however, manage to bring yourselves out to a cafe to meet up again. Just the two of you. You thought it was a (not so) funny coincidence that you ended up sitting in the same cafe where Wonwoo had first told you he was moving. Same seat, same drink, same weather, same everything.

When drinks remained untouched, conversations fell stale, and eye contact was hardly attainable, you let out a sigh and suggested that you scrap the whole dating thing for now and simply try to reconnect as best friends.

He agreed, and the atmosphere immediately felt a bit lighter. It was easier to slip in a joke here and there to encourage him to smile. You couldn't believe how your heart still beats so fast whenever you see his lips curl upwards and his eyes light up.

Soon, you were both talking to each other like he had never gone to work, and you had never hidden your soulmate mark, and there had never been any drama or arguments in the first place. It was like things were going the way fate had intended it to be for once.

You sat opposite of each other. And so, you could see his dark hair, still ruffled from this morning because he had woken up late and almost missed your meeting time. You could see his hand wrapped around the cup of mocha; the sleeves of his sweater riding up to show you the flowers and moon on his wrist. You nervously rub your ankles against each other underneath the table to ease the burning sensation of your own mark. At the same time, it eased the burning on your cheeks because wow, when was his laugh this adorable?

He hadn't changed. He really hadn't changed at all. He was still the same old Wonwoo, who loved books and that one video game he's been clinging onto since childhood. The same old Wonwoo who always ordered his drinks without whipped cream and always had pictures of cats as his phone background.

And yet something about him was different. His aura was older, wiser. Like he was the embodiment of all the introspection one could possibly do within their entire life. Though his posture was still small, and it made you want to reach out to him and tell him that it was okay.

Which you did, when the conversation died down again and you could tell he was desperately trying to start it back up. Trying, for your sake, to be someone who's able to express love and be what a boyfriend "should be”.

Screw all those should be’s.

You told him that it was okay to take things slow. Words that were filled with nothing but honesty, because you've already waited this long, and you're willing to wait even longer. You're willing to encourage him to take this chance of trying to love someone and if he decides that it wasn't for him... well... you could figure that out later.

In the present, he said he wanted to love you, and so you will be there for him to love.

His tense posture relaxed and his sleeves slipped over the mark. You shared a smile and he went back to sipping his mocha; you, picking at your own food.

Though the liveliness of your atmosphere was dampened, it wasn't a bad thing. To you, it was replaced with a calm sense of love and understanding. You spoke in softer tones and your hands edged away from your cups, deciding to creep closer to each other instead.

You stayed at the cafe for a good amount of time, deciding that it was better to stay inside than go out and adventure out into the (shudders) real world. This quiet space, personal to just you and Wonwoo was enough.

This was enough. It was a good start.

On your way out, to your surprise, Wonwoo got up first and made his way over to your side of the table. He waited for you to get up yourself and grab your belongings before shyly holding out his hand for you to take.

It took you a moment. A brief moment to realize that he did, in fact, want to hold your hand again. And when you did, the warm buzz in your heart didn't cease until you fell asleep that night.

He hummed quietly to himself as he accompanied you on your way back home. Keeping a loose, but firm grip on your hand, Wonwoo never let go of it until you had to part.

The day did not end with a kiss. No, not like a cheesy romance story where the two characters will kiss and make out on their very first date.

Life wasn't always like that; it isn't so picture perfect.

And you were both okay with that.

You bid each other goodbye with promises to meet up again and speak to each other that night. When the sun finally set, you laid on your bed, messaging Wonwoo as the mark on your ankle tingled with delight. The conversation was nothing but normal, just discussions about how the day went and how you were both dreading the upcoming Monday.

It wasn't long before you both decided that maybe it was time to go to bed. There will always be time in the future. You've found each other now, so you can always take things slow.

Before you ended things off for real, you sent each other a short goodnight text. His had a little heart beside it and it took you an extra second to even think of a reply.

You decided to send a heart back, along with a smiley face.

Yeah, things will be alright.

[shoichee]

So...👉🏼👈🏼 Could you make a headcannon of ( any characters u want ) reacting to their crush, reader. Being the leader and main dancer in the dance club? Like this...

The characters were walking down hallways while having an conversation ( or arguing?). Then, suddenly they hear a music and see their crush, a beatiful but confident female, practicing the coreo with all her club a dance that they would show the whole school during the lunch. If not, then thank you for at least reading my request.

By;; One of your fans and, of course, readers.

hello, my anon! thank you so much for reading my stuff and supporting me <33 without further ado... here are some long headcanons!

[Dancer f!reader]

Kuroko Tetsuya

he usually hangs out with the Seirin basketball team, where they would all often hide behind the hallway corners to eavesdrop on Riko’s and Hyuga’s next plans for training camps

as they all (not so quietly) trailed after the coach-captain duo down the hallway for them to turn left, Kuroko hears a soft orchestral sound coming from the right turn of said hall

his teammates were too rowdy to even discern the tune in the first place and they only cared to find out where their next torture session would be at, so they all took the left hallway

but Kuroko knew that sound from anywhere… after all that’s all you’ve been practicing to for the past month during breaks and after school

this was one of the few occasions he was glad that he had no presence, because he easily slipped away from his friends to find the source of the melody and to find you in particular

he wordlessly tracks down to your practice room, all the while having his head completely in the clouds… though his face was as stony as ever and gave no sign of his lovestruck affliction

the doors were obviously closed but he could still peep into the room through its windows, and there you were, enveloped in sheer tulle and a natural glow of an experienced performer

you were so completely engrossed into your pirouettes that Kuroko, despite seeing your solo routine alone together after school, can’t help but have sparkles in his eyes as he fixates on your passion and form

his mind drifts to the time he first met you after a home game, and he saw you approaching Riko to congratulate her on a preliminary win before you actually noticed Kuroko and directly praised him for his assisting skills as well

and boy was he SHOOK, he faltered a bit before he managed out a polite “thank you”

it was probably attraction at first sight, he’ll admit, but he actually started to fall for you when you would always come to the home games to support Riko (you unfortunately couldn’t come to away games because of your schedule as a club leader for dance), and pretty soon, you got to chat with a few of the Seirin players as well (including Kuroko)

you knew what you wanted to do for your career and you had everything set out and planned, and Kuroko found that really admirable

someone with a cool head, powerful aura, and charisma kind of reminded him of Akashi and he was here for it

and then he completely fell head over heels when he saw you dancing for the first time during club rush week at the beginning of his 2nd year… it was the way your gaze was so focused, and nothing else mattered to you except the performance, similar to how the Generation of Miracles would enter into the zone—

“Tetsuya?”

“A-ah..”

he didn’t realize that he completely zoned out (pun not intended) because it looks like your club was already done with dress rehearsal, and everyone else was beginning to pack up; you were standing right in front of him, holding the door open

“Sorry, am I in the way, (y/n)-san?”

“Naw, don’t worry,” you said. “Just saw you standing there and I was wondering if you needed something from me.”

yes, he wanted you to reciprocate his feelings, as selfish as he knew it was

“Nothing. Just heard something familiar and stopped by to see.”

“That’s very typical of you,” you chuckled. “Say, are you going to watch our showcase during lunch in a few hours?”

“The showcase advertised all over the bulletin, right?”

“Yeah.”

ah, that’s right, your club was planning to do a free showcase preview during lunch in the auditorium to advertise your ballet recital in a week

“Yeah, I’ll be there to cheer you on this time.”

“Pffftt, you’re too serious,” you laughed, ruffling his hair. Kuroko would normally be irked at the action, but with you, your touch was comforting. “I don’t mind coming to your games, I come for fun, and I don’t think of them as obligations. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I know most find ballet pretty dull—”

“I want to go, though. I don’t find it boring, (y/n)-san,” Kuroko said with a smile

your eyes widened as your hand in his hair stilled

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Since when were you into ballet?” you hummed, clearly meant to tease him in good fun, and you started to ruffle through his hair again

“Ever since I fell for you.”

Kise Ryota

Kise, even though being an idol-figure himself, is a fanboy of many idol groups and bands

he’s always looked for you during breaks, knowing you’d be in the dance room to practice with your small group of members

why? well, he wants to see you dance, especially when your club does dance covers of other prominent idols

he’s tried (emphasis on tried) to ditch practice once in a while to go see you in your element, even if it’ll always end up with him being pulverized by Kasamatsu himself

this time though, when he heard that your club was going to cover some big-hit performances during the schoolwide pep rally during lunch, he couldn’t resist the urge to get a “sneak peek”

he basically RAN down the hallway, blatantly ignoring the warnings the teachers gave down the aisle, to escape Kasamatsu and to get to you as soon as he could so he could have more time to watch

as he ran closer, his ears register the very familiar hip hop, urban, and pop songs emanating from the room

“(Y/n)-cchi!!!”

“Kise? What are you even doing here?”

“I came to watch your practice—”

“But you always do,” you sighed, crossing your arms in mild annoyance. “Besides, you’re going to see the exact choreography at the rally anyways. Don’t you already know the choreo yourself? Aren’t you a fan of these groups?”

“But I won’t be able to see you up close like thiiiiis,” Kise whines. “You’re always so cool when you dance, is it so wrong that I always want to see you dance?”

there was his signature puppy eyes that would normally make most girls weak in their knees

“I’m flattered,” you deadpanned, managing to stare down at Kise even though he was much taller than you. “But you’re cutting into our time right now, so you should either leave or sit quietly like a good boy and keep it shush.”

“Sheesh, so demanding…” he pouted, but nonetheless reluctantly sat himself on the chair like a petulant child

his petty anger quickly dissipates when your club got into position, with you at the center, and started the entire routine

even though everyone was just lipsyncing to the songs as they performed the dance covers back to back, he really thought everyone, especially you, embodied the essence of a real idol group

you had the aura, energy, passion, and charisma of an idol leader… not to mention the looks

Kise honestly saw you as his ultimate role model and idol, if he was going to be honest

to outsiders, it genuinely looked like you and Kise didn’t get along, but it couldn’t be further from the truth

okay, yes, maybe your first impressions on him weren’t that great

Kise first laid eyes on you when your recently new club performed for the first time at a talent show to promote for more members the following year, and he asked Moriyama if he knew who you were

“Right?? (Y/n)-san is cute! But don’t go near her—”

“Relax, Moriyama-senpai, I was just curious.”

and he started seeing your face popped up more around school, and your name being brought up more frequently among students (particularly his fangirls, who envy and admire you for different reasons)

you apparently started the club yourself (like Teppei with Seirin’s basketball team)

he was then intrigued and wanted to judge you for himself… and that’s when he started to show up to your room after practice to annoy you or would bump into you in the hallways

you, not wanting to deal with his shit, told him off in front of everyone

as much as Kise was shocked out of his wits, he couldn’t believe anyone had the balls to say that while risking their reputation… even Kasamatsu wasn’t THAT confrontational

he fell for you… HARD

he visits you DURING practice from that point on and while you hated it at first and tried to scare him away, he was just too stubborn

so you let him be

and you eventually learned that Kise was surprisingly dependable

he’d always insist on walking you home after practice

while you are still wary of him sometimes, you no longer find him completely unbearable… except when Kise would make it a huge deal to cheer your name OUT LOUD in the audience every time you performed, which was BEYOND embarrassing and headache-inducing

“Wow… I can’t believe you haven’t auditioned for an idol label yet, (y/n)-cchi,” Kise thought… more like he accidentally slipped out

but hypothetically, if you did pass an audition, he wouldn’t be able to get to see you as much anymore…

by now, your club was wrapping up practice and you came over to Kise to whack his head

“I told you to keep it shush, didn’t I?”

“You’re so mean! Your practice is done, isn’t it?!”

“You think I’m going to audition for a company?” you scoffed, but nonetheless mirth danced across your eyes; you knew he was trying to change the subject

“It was just a stray thought,” he mumbled, averting his eyes while pouting

“Really now,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “If I really did become one, I wouldn’t have much time to be here, now wouldn’t I?”

“(Y/n)-cchi! Are you saying that you…”

“On second thought, even if I’d miss class so much, I can at least avoid you and your incessant shouting.”

“Wha—! You’re so cruel—!”

“I’m joking, Kise.”

“(Y/n)-cchiiiiiii!” he fake-cries as he tries to glomp on your figure, only for you to expertly sidestep his lunge

“You better not scream out during the pep rally.”

spoiler alert: he, indeed, kept shouting out your name at the volume of a thousand decibels like a true fanboy during lunch

Kasamatsu Yukio

“I do not like (y/n)-san in that way!”

typical Kaijo team dynamics: during practice, everyone obeys the captain side of Kasamatsu without question, but outside of basketball? everyone picks on him the most

“Sure, sure, senpai,” Kise would often say, with Moriyama giving him consoling shoulder pats

“Screw off, or I’m giving you 5 extra drill runs—”

“Look, look, he’s turning red! He’s turning red!”

needless to say, the hallways were filled with a huge ruckus of chattering and shouts over Kasamatsu’s “problem,” aka you

he never saw you in that light

or at least… he used to not see you in that way

he admired your leadership skills; you were reputed across the school as the leader of the most coordinated group of performers who would travel to other cities to perform on televised festivals, local outdoor shows, and competitions

he would often hear your spartan-like commands to other performers outside, like “you three are off beat on 1, when you should be on the and of 2!″ and “your formations are too cluttered, spread out!”

sometimes, your group borrowed the gym because it’s much more spacious to practice in, and that’s where he REALLY saw you being a leader and a performer

if the Kaijo basketball team was the cream of the crop of all sports clubs, then the Kaijo performance group was the cream of the crop for all visual and performing arts

the group performed in all styles of dance, from traditional to modern and contemporary, and the fact that you seemed to know what to do on every new stage gave him motivation to do more as a captain to not “get left behind” for a lack of better term

he respected you like how he would respect Hyuga, Kuroko, and Kagami, but he never saw you as a “girl”

which was why he was able to talk to you normally and become good mutuals so easily

it’s the way you talked about your interests so passionately, it just made it really relatable and easy to strike up conversation with you, because you and him are similar in so many ways

well… that was… until his own teammates noticed and kept pestering him about the fact that you were a “girl” and that it was strange that he talked to you normally

so now he couldn’t undo his perspective of you, and he became HYPER AWARE of everything about you

so now he was noticing your mannerisms, your habits when you were idly thinking, the way your costumes and attire clinged to your figure or the way the stage makeup accentuated your features… the little things like that just really cemented the fact that you were not just “a dude”

“Drop it already,” Kasamatsu said, glaring at his teammates, who already looked like they’re in tears of laughter

Kise, even through the teasing, wanted the best for Kasamatsu, so he insisted he should just confess

and Kasamatsu is denying to his dying breath how he doesn’t see you that way

here these two are, going back and forth until it escalated into an argument after Kise insults him for being a coward

the rest of the teammates had to pull the two of them off each other so they could both cool their heads off

and Kasamatsu is stalking off alone in the halls, fist and teeth clenching as he figures out how to destroy Kise at practice after school… until he heard a faint oriental-sounding instrumental, and he immediately knew you were near

so he runs to the source of the sound… only to see you practicing alone in an empty club room, which is odd, since you normally practice with everyone

he’s too shy to do anything other than to look at you through the door window, being completely red when he’s, yet again, aware of how your body moved

all of the sudden, you stopped and frowned at yourself and sighed

was there something wrong?

you would never make a harsh expression, unless it was for the sake of acting when you danced, since you were normally so put-together

the want to help you overcome your troubles overrides his self-consciousness of this “crush” of his

“(Y/n)-san,” Kasamatsu called out, letting himself in after announcing his presence

“Kasamatsu? What brings you here?”

“Heard something… so uh,” he paused. “I came to check it out, but it seems like you’re troubled. Is there anything I can… do to help?”

“Ah…” you started. “We have to board the bus soon for a competition during lunch. It’s going to be televised everywhere too… I just want to get some last-minute practice, so nothing goes wrong…”

“I admire you alot,” Kasamatsu said seriously. “You inspire me to keep working harder.”

“Huh?”

“But try not to overwork yourself, your members will definitely notice if their leader is off their game,” Kasamatsu said. “I would know from experience.”

“Are you trying to cheer me up?” you laughed, to which Kasamatsu doesn’t fail to notice

“W-w-well, that’s—”

“Thank you, Kasamatsu,” you smiled. “Hearing your advice makes me want to ace this and make sure our performance will take the win.”

“Y-yeah…” he said, stretching his neck and shoulders out of nervousness

“Make sure you tune into our performance live during lunch, okay?” you leaned towards him playfully with your hands behind your back. “I’d be really happy if I knew you were there supporting me.”

“Y-yeah…”

[catzula]

How to cure a broken heart

Synopsis: love might come in in various shapes. With Kuroo it came with a snowball.

Honorable mentions: tw cursing, it's 2.4k words, genre is fluff, hope you guys like it!!

Its a short lil fluffy Kuroo blurb since its snowing very heavy here and I kinda broke your hearts with that last angst lol

You never thought you were the type to partake in something so cliche, something as falling in love with your next-door neighbor. It was overused at this point, it wasn't even your favorite trope to read anymore, and you would've died laughing if someone told you you would meet the guy you fell in love with like this.

But overused as it is, it still came in as a surprise, and that was Kuroo Tetsurou for you, managing to make even the most monotonous thing surprising. 

It was the morning after a night of heavy snow, hearing the rustle of walking on fresh, unpressed snow beneath your feet making you bite back a smile. It had been a while since it snowed this much where you lived, so you didn't refuse when your mother offered you to take a walk. 

 I'm sure you'll feel better if you take a breath of fresh air, she told you, taking note of your foul mood.

She was right, it smells like winter, and the familiar smell didn't fail to make you take a breath of relief, as if you were suffocating the past few days. 

It had been a while since you even left your house, you realized, even before the quarantine started, you weren't the type to go out and socialize around the block. You usually met with your friends at a cafe around your school or an arcade or something, but it was rare for you to hang out in your neighborhood area, thus ended with you not knowing any of your neighbors. 

You had never intended to get to know them either, but it wasn't your choice to make anymore when you noticed a perfect sphere of snowball flying towards you, you dodged it the last second with reflexes you didn't even know you had (you didn't. it was pure luck). 

As you turned to where the snowball came from, your eyes locked on a smug, sneaky grin, obviously amused by the shocked expression on your face. It was a boy about your age, leaning proudly on a snowman that was almost as tall as him, his smile more noticeable even than his odd, inky black ruffle of hair or the piercing golden eyes that had something of a clever glint to them.

His grin felt infectious, and you could feel a smile tugging on the corners of your lips, and it was the smile that would never fail to make you smile back, except for that particular day.

It hadn't made you smile, nor had it disputed the mean frown on your lips as you quirked a brow at him, only making his grin spread wider on his lips. "Sorry," he muttered, not sounding the slightest bit apologetic, nor had he stopped smiling teasingly. "Didn't mean to throw it at you."

You took the apology with a soft nod, turning your back to him, and started walking, sighing when you felt a hand tap your arm gently.

"Hey, me again." He grinned, and you mustered a smile. "Hi." You answered back, pressing your lips together awkwardly. 

"I'm Kuroo Tetsurou," he informed you. "Your next door neighbor, I think."

"Y/N, L/N." You answered, "nice to meet you, Kuroo-san."

"Nice to meet you, too." He then tilted his head, eyes grazing on you for another while, and he looked like he wanted to talk even more even though the conversation was very obviously over. "That was pretty impressive, you know?" Another smile formed on his lips as he scratched the back of his neck and averted his eyes away from you, and you could feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Thanks. Your snowman is pretty impressive, too." It was. The guy was almost 2 meters, and it made no sense for the snowman to be as tall as him, too, but it still was pretty impressive.

Not expecting him to throw his head back and start laughing loudly at your comment, you couldn't help but watch him like you were witnessing some miracle. You couldn't look away as he bent forward, holding his stomach all the while his body shook. It was infectious, you realized, since you also found yourself chuckling not half a minute later.

He took a deep breath as his laughter died, still chuckling now and then, he turned to you. "It is impressive, isn't it? Had nothing better to do in quarantine, you know?" He shrugged, trying to look modest, but he beamed with pride. 

He weaved his hand through the raven locks of hair that fell on his face, making you wonder if they were as soft as they looked. You quickly discarded the idea.

"Well, I won't bother you any longer." He grinned, "but I'll see you around!"

You watched him as he turned his back to you, giving you just a second to admire how tall and broad he was before he flashed you one last smile and a wave.

~

You found yourself still smiling as you entered your house, tapping your feet on the wood to rustle off the snow off your shoes. 

"Wow, maybe I should take a walk, too." Your mother teased when she took note of your smile and relaxed posture. "Did you have fun?"

"I met our next-door neighbor today." You told her after nodding your head. "The poor boy, approaching you at your moodiest. I hope he's still in one piece." She teased, brows quirking when you laughed along instead of protesting.

"Have you met him already?"

"Yeah, we crossed paths once or twice, cute boy. I think he studied in Nekoma Highschool?" She shrugged when she couldn't remember clearly. "Still, it's nice to see he was able to make you smile."

He was nice, you had to admit. Maybe you would pay him a visit to apologize for your -slightly- rude behavior today? Nah, you'd rather wait till the next time you crossed paths, you decided. 

As you averted your eyes to the wall both the houses shared, you thought if you'd cross paths soon.

~

You did. The next day, if you wanted to be exact.

You were startled by the sounds coming from the bushes separating your garden from your neighbors, rasing from your chair, you gazed from the window to see what it was, only to see a head of messy black hair poking through the leaves.

It was impossible not to smile as you watched him lean towards something you couldn't quite see, reaching his hand to your garden and making kissing noises with a desperate expression on his face. "Mika," you heard him call out, "come here boy, that's not our garden."

It was a cat, you realized. (Either that, or he was a pervert.) Taking a breath of relief when you saw the furry tail of the animal, you thought it was time to show yourself (and tease him about it if you could)

"Kuroo-san?" You exited out to the garden, watching the boy as his eyes widened with shock, his body immediately pulling himself back, only to stay stuck between the branches of the bush. You stifled your laughter as he forcefully pulled his way out of it, cursing at the branches scratching him, his face flushing either because of the challenge he gave trying to free himself or of embarrassment.

"H-hi." He muttered as he finally regained his composure, tall enough to have a comfortable conversation with you over the bushes. (He could even lean in to kiss you over them without any problem, something you discovered sometime in the future)

"Are you okay?" You asked softly, still laughing as you watched him pull a small branch out of his hair.

"Yeah, I'm okay. More than okay, I was just- my cat ran into your garden, and I was trying to pull him back." He stammered as he noticed your chuckles. "Cat?" You repeated innocently.

"Yeah, my cat, he's right here- Mika?"

You couldn't hold your laughs back when you saw the baffled look on his handsome face when he noticed the cat wasn't there or anywhere to be seen.

"I swear he was right here!" He exclaimed, panicking. "I wasn't trying to peek in your garden, my cat- he- he-" He stopped his panicked explanation when he finally noticed how hard you were laughing. "You already knew, didn't you?"

"Yup, saw the whole thing." You answered between your occasional chuckles. "Wow, how mean!" He frowned, but you could tell he also found the situation amusing.

"You know, you didn't have to push through the bushes." You snickered. "you could just come in from the door like a normal person." A slight shade of red tinted his cheeks with your words, averting his eyes in embarrassment and scratching the back of his neck with a chuckle. "Yeah, that's probably a better idea." 

It had turned into a routine quickly after that. Kuroo would knock on your window, a grin plastered on his face and waving at you from the other side of the glass. 

At first, he always had some excuse, sometimes showing up with a plate of freshly baked cookies, telling you his grandma had cooked a little too much. "I'm sure you could smell them baking, and I didn't want you to miss out on the best cookies ever." He would beam. You didn't miss out on the smile that adorned his lips when you told him you could make coffee for the both of you and you could eat it together.

Talking with Kuroo was relaxing, at the very least. 

He was a good listener, and his presence enough was soothing. He could calm you when you felt stressed, oddly good at it, too, laughing when you told him that one day. "I have a friend like this." He had shrugged. "A childhood friend, we used to live pretty close, too. I got used to it after a while, I guess."

He would watch you with thoughtful eyes as you spoke as if you were saying the most important thing, even if you were telling him about your day.

Kuroo was also one of the funniest people you knew. He had so many stories from when he was the captain of his volleyball team in high school, the things he told you always making you have a stomach ache from laughing so hard. 

A friendship developing so quickly, it would usually end with you getting scared and pushing people who were getting so dear to you away from you, afraid of trusting them, even more than you did.

But not with him, you couldn't, wouldn't. Trusting Tetsurou didn't feel terrifying like it did with everyone else, instead, it felt good. It felt so safe, so cherishing to finally be able able to trust someone with everything you had, and you had never felt this protected and secure being so vulnerable with anyone. 

It was the next winter you showed up in his garden, picking up snow from the ground and working on it for a few minutes to make sure you had two perfect spheres you felt all warm inside despite the cold weather. 

Throwing the first snowball on his window, you grinned to yourself as you waited for the boy to come out, waiting for the chance to catch him off guard and hopefully manage to hit him square in the face. 

Your eyes narrowed when he didn't come out after a few minutes, grabbing more snow from the ground and throwing another snowball on the window. This one you had sent a bit harder, and he must've heard it if he was at home. 

When he didn't come out after that either, you frowned, standing up. Just then, you noticed a snowball flying towards you, dodging it the last second before turning that way with wide eyes. 

"No-" You managed to choke out before the grinning boy wrapped his arms around you, caging your body against his, and threw himself on the snow, pulling you with him to be buried in the snow together.

"Tetsu!" You whined, even though you were laughing so hard that you were gasping for air. "That wasn't fair!"

"And yours was?" He laughed, his body still over yours, making it hard to breathe for you. "Get off me, I can't breathe." You managed to choke out between your laughter, your eyes lingering on his smiling lips that were a few inches away from yours. 

"Because I'm so handsome?" He teased.

"No, because you're heavy." You answered, laughing even more when he faked a gasp. 

"So mean, always breaking your boyfriend's heart." He shook his head side to side, not moving an inch that would allow you to squirm out from under his body. 

"Come on," you whined, emphasizing the last word. "Lemme breathe!"

"Nope! You broke my heart, so painful that I can't breathe, either! It's only fair, chibi-chan." He grinned, making you roll your eyes. 

"Okay, okay." You sighed. "What do you want?" You already knew what he wanted since ever since he had crushed you beneath his, his eyes had never left your lips.

"Let me think. How can you cure a broken heart?"

He had his answer when you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his smiling, soft ones. 

[demonslayedher]

Your content on Kny is interesting, being a Kny fan I would like to share a cusiority. During the final battle did you notice that the Hashira were passive about the death of some? When Shinobu died only Tanjiro had a reaction because of how busy he was; Mitsuri didn't seem sad and when Iguro remembered who died in the middle of the final battle he didn't even mention her. What did you think? It would have been nice if Gotouge had shown us what the Hashira's thought when the others died

[cont.] I'm the anonymous person who asked you the question about the Hashira who fell in the fight, Tumblr makes people write very little. Apart from Tanjiro they seemed cold to me, even for Tokito; the only one affected was Himejima; when always Iguro mentioned him during the clash with Muzan it was like he was thinking normally. There wasn't time to mourn for the dead but I was expecting a slightly deeper reaction. Anyway for Shinobu yes there was Inosuke and Kanao but the pillars are important too

  Thank you for the Ask, time to get into it! This served as a good excuse to flip back through of a lot of the later volumes... or rather, a huge chunk of the series. Short Answer: I don’t think Mitsuri knew about Shinobu’s death.  Longer Answer: A walk-through of the Pillars’ situations in the final showdown and a partial analysis of Kimetsu-style story pacing. 

Disclaimer: I finished this around 2am. I chose to leave it rambling and unedited and typo-ridden. HAVE MY FEELS, I’M DISHING THEM.

(Disclaimer: This isn’t meant to be a plug for my own fics, but since they are born out of my emotional experience of canon, mentions will make their way in. U fu fu.) First, absolutely yes on there being no time to mourn. From the moment the Ubuyashiki Mansion blows up in volume 16 to the actual end of the fighting in volume 23, that is one hell of a night; this final arc(s) had NO CHILL. Like, wow. It’s been a long time since I followed another battle-driven manga, but that seems like a lot, especially for a relatively short series.  And I was initially happy to dismiss all the lack of satisfying sadness as being due to the fact that they are in *PANIC MODE* and entirely focused on fighting, but that is also not necessarily the case; they do come off slightly cold.  I want to touch a bit on what we want to see the characters mourn each other, but also why I think it works out a bit better that we didn’t; from a purely narrative standpoint.  LET THEM BE SAD: Parasocial Needs Science says we form bonds with fictional characters that affect our brains in very similar and impactful ways, so our feelings are legit when they get killed off. It affects us like a breakup or other goodbye and makes us crave closure.  As for my own assumptions, we look for proxy characters in-universe to give those characters we love the attention we wish to; their sadness validates our sadness, watching them get emotional can be super cathartic, and a good mourning arc can provide satisfying closure.  This is something we got with Rengoku, canonically loved by like, everyone. Hell, even the guy who killed him was sad. Just to rub salt into it, the most recent fanbook that includes a section about how the Pillars see each other, and it drives home that even if we never saw much or any canon interaction between him and any other given character, they’re all like, “Oh yeah, Rengoku, he’s a great guy.”  And, he’s the only character we really get space to mourn, pacing-wise. First, because of when it happens in the plot, this gives the story time to show us each and everyone one of the Pillars hearing the news; it gives them times to process it (which Tokitou clearly needed), and most of us, it takes us in depth through how it affects Tanjirou, our main character whose emotions that we, the readers, are most in touch with. Rengoku got star treatment in the way he was mourned, and we readers get to lap that up.  So then when we don’t get that in-universe star mourning treatment, it does feel a bit jarring by comparison. Gotouge did say she was sorry to hurt everyone, but these are the conditions the little humans were up against all along and a point driven home again and again; even with power on par with demons through the attainment of a mark; even Pillars are just breakable humans who will never be able to regenerate like demons can, hence why their stakes are so much higher in every battle they go into. Furthermore, the Pillars are more ready for this than anyone else, they of all the characters would be the best at keeping their emotions in check in the heat of a battle.  Which means they had to keep them in check for seven volumes of near constant battle, love it or hate it.  KIMETSU LOGIC: The Writing Sins That Make This Manga What It Is I could go on and on and on and on about the writing sins this manga commits and how it shows that it’s Gotouge’s first time writing something of this length. In manga not all of it can be blamed on the author alone because the editors have a very significant influence, but yeah, this is not the most amazingly crafted story out there, by a long shot.  Would I change any of it, though? Well, a few things, yes, of course, out of personal preference. But on the whole, no. It’s the collective errors that stamp KnY with its style and make it what it is, and I find it as endearing as all the randomly super goofy art.  Now, when it comes to the lack of Pillars reacting to new of each others’ deaths, I wouldn’t necessarily classify that itself as a fault, and if I were Gotouge’s editor, I probably would have encouraged her to keep it to a minimum too. After all, I would be considered with selling a new shot of tension with every week’s installment to keep any readers from getting bored with the constant battle. And dang it, THAT TENSION WAS HIGH, those battles were remarkably emotional and tense through and through.  The breaks in tension that we got were necessarily and not distracting, with the notable exception of Iguro’s past. That was clumsy placement. I’ll be honest, I didn’t bond with Iguro as much as a character because he lost his earlier chances to be appealing to me, and by the time the chapter with his flashback came out, I DIDN’T CARE, I waited anxiously all week to see what was happening to Tanjiro and was invested enough to have an appetite for the additional Sumiyoshi and Yoriichi bits, but dang it, Snake Pillar was getting in the way of what my emotions were primed for at that point.  But, such is the way of fickle weekly readers; with THAT MUCH tension going on, readers crave a little breather here and there with a look at who else might taking in a breather in a flashback. We got bits and pieces of that mostly through flashback, like Tamayo’s memories of conversation with Shinobu experienced in real time through Muzan, as well as in-real-time moments with the characters having very slight chances to catch their breath (no pun intended).  But, how well those breaths worked depending on each character, and how the readers’ emotions were getting slammed week to week. Just like how I as a weekly reader (by that point) had no appetite for an Iguro flashback while eager to move forward, there likewise would have been limited appetite for mourning, and we’re stuck with who we got as proxy characters to react through.  ACTION, REACTION: The Rhythm of Basic Writing Advice It has often been said that in writing, something should happen in a scene, and the next scene should be a reaction to it. In the next scene something new happens, and likewise, there is a reaction. We could also thing of this as stages within the same scene, like the part when the music changes or the moment the battle has ended but we’re still on the battlefield.  In Rengoku’s case, we got one big happening, and then a whole lot of reaction drizzled through the story after that.  In the Infinity Fortress case, we get a big happening with the Ubuyashiki Mansion blowing up and then--a big happening!--a big happening!--a big happening--! A--uh oh, there’s a reactio---NEVERMIND, THINGS ARE STILL HAPPENING, GOTOUGE, PLEASE, THIS HURTS, OW, OW, HOW ARE YOU SO CRUEL, WE GET IT, THIS SITUATION IS AWFUL, PLEASE STOP HURTING THEM---

The reactions are there, scattered throughout. They’re short, but they sure make themselves count.  While Tanjirou is our Empathy Personified hero, it’s natural that we get more of his reactions, but the lack of them in other characters is, I would say, a natural fault of having a huge cast to work with it. Once you start dragging too many other characters into the reactions, the actions have trouble moving forward, and with the level of seven volumes worth of tension it’s the actions that keep readers hooked and buying magazines.  THEY’RE ONLY CORVIDS, OK: Now We’re Actually Looking At Canon Details Now that all being said, although it’s easy to dismiss a lot of Kimetsu Logic as amateurish at first, on further reflection, the little worldbuilding logic does excuse itself for not plunging each of the characters into a period of reaction to actions happening elsewhere.  Not all the birds had Yushiro’s papers. Not all birds were created equal. It’s really hard to navigate that place. Ergo, communication was probably highly imperfect; not all the crows knew everything going on. We don’t feel that as readers because we’re seeing Kiriya and his sisters get all the available communications.  In Iguro and Mitsuri’s case in particular, I suspect that might not even had been Mitsuri’s crow (as that one has a distinct personality and accessory) giving her orders to gather where Muzan is. It was probably any old down-to-business crow working with the information it had as clearly as it could in the battle that was most difficult to physically navigate. If Mitsuri’s crow (named Urara in the most recent fanbook) had been there, I imagine she’d have been having difficulty that whole time to even stay within a close range of that battle. Furthermore, a crow like that with a strong bond with Mitsuri might had also judged that telling her about Shinobu’s death was a dangerous distraction, and chosen to withhold information.  The fanbook specifies that Iguro’s crow Yuuan was the one who told him about how Tokitou got a red blade (in fact, this is basically the only thing said of this crow besides its name and gender). To able to report in such detail that Iguro could analyze that Tokitou attained the red blade by the strength of his grip, that probably quite an accomplishment to have either witnessed that much, or to pass on crucial information that detailed and quickly. At that time, Iguro and Mitsuri were physically separated and she was distracted by the crow giving her orders to gather where Muzan was, so she might not even have overheard that Tokitou had died. As for Iguro, the second fanbook tells us that because Tokitou was young he had hoped he wouldn’t die. There was no opportunity to mourn him, and they weren’t close enough for that to throw him off much from battle, but on a Pillar to Pillar level, I think the amount of thought Iguro did dedicated to Tokitou showed a certain level of esteem for him and regret at this passing.  What would have been nice? Maybe a little look over his shoulder to Mitsuri like “I hope she didn’t hear that.” That would have revealed a tender side of Iguro in a very short use of panels.  I want to come back to analyzing Mitsuri’s reaction later, so let’s keep focusing on the loss of Tokitou. Once he attained more of his sense of self back, it seems he preferred the company of Corp Members closed to him in age (if we go by his little flashbacks, which in true Kimetsu Logic, are things we didn’t know about until they come up in flashbacks). Most of the Pillars weren’t especially close with him, even if they did care about his wellbeing, as they seemed particular aware of how young he was. Sanemi probably had never interacted much with Tokitou until that battle, and *OKAY, HERE IT IS, THE UPCOMING FANFIC SELF-PLUG* one of the things I really liked working with in my post-canon fic is that there’s a point at which thinking about Tokitou forces Sanemi to deal with all the trauma he’s buried from that battle. I figure it would hit him later; he had a good excuse of a distraction. Ugh. Man. My heart hurts again thinking of that chapter.  Let’s also not forget, after Himejima showed his respects for Tokitou both quickly and sincerely, he couldn’t allow Sanemi to deal with Genya’s death until after everything was over. All the Pillars had to think like this.  What would had been nice? I liked this reaction scene to two simultaneous and horrific deaths exactly as it was. Ow. Ahhhh. Owwwwww, it’s hurting again. This is catharsis exactly the way I like it.  Let’s keep going with Himejima, the only one to have known to expect all this, and who stayed ready and likely hoped to bring down Muzan all by himself without any other sacrifices (welp, so much for that). There’s a scene in the novels that implies he had some idea that Shinobu wasn’t intending to make it out of the upcoming battle(s) alive, and I imagine he felt the same regret and bitter acceptance in advance that he also felt with Ubuyashiki. If we heard the news about Shinobu like Tanjirou and Giyuu did, I imagine he was hurt but it wouldn’t have been noticeable, and he probably would not be surprised even at how quickly it happened.  What would had been nice? Anything. Just a “How pitiful” and some tears as he runs through the halls woulda’ been great.  So since Giyuu did hear it loud and clear with Tanjirou, I first want to point out that whether that was Tanjirou’s crow or not (might not had been, because his crow was busy with a letter delivery from Senjurou at the time too), that crow must had loved to shared details; maybe even details that were not necessary. Like, would telling the lower level Corp members everything really help? Wouldn’t the loss of each Pillar make them lose their nerve? Was it because that crow was wearing one of Yushiro’s papers that it had to report extra detail for Ubuyashiki HQ? Whatever the case, Giyuu is initially shocked about Shinobu and then is like, “what is that paper the crow has? It sure is reporting things fast.”  What would have been nice? ANYTHING MORE THAN ONE PANEL OF SHOCK. Come on, Giyuu, give the GiyuuShino shippers S O M E T H I N G. Granted, if Tanjirou had been killed in battle with Akaza, I believe Giyuu would have had an initial outburst of emotion, but then gotten himself under control real quick and stayed that way until it was safe to break down (which he did immediately later on, since the threat was gone--but he was just as soon picking up a sword and stabbing him, so again, Pillar-mode must come before experiencing emotions). I interpret canon as that even though Giyuu might had found it easily to address Shinobu in conversation due to frequency in how much they had conversed and the fact that she would usually talk to him first, he would never had considered himself especially close with her (since he never saw himself close with any of the Pillars). I feel their relationship had potential to grow closer if Giyuu had actually gone out of his way to communicate more with her, and he probably would had if they both survived, but at the time she died he probably still felt a distance, which is why it did him harder when Tanjirou--someone who Giyuu did actually get to a point of enjoying conversation with--was dead right in front of him.  (Side not, oh man, OH MAN, being a weekly reader was so tough then. I still have so many emotions from that week. Oh man. Oof. Ouch.)

Of note, Giyuu had the best opportunity for reflection on a comrade’s death since he had enough recovery time once he woke up to build a fire and treat wounds, and Tanjirou took that chance to read a letter. 

What would have been nice? AGAIN, GIYUU, ANYTHING, but after that battle I think he deserved to disassociate a bit.  Also of note, I don’t know that they had complete information either, because NO ONE (by “no one” I mean Tanjirou and Inosuke) seemed to hear anything about Zenitsu single-handedly killing Upper Moon Six and surviving it. What would had been nice: “Good for you, Zenitsu, I hope you’re okay” or “Six? Again? Didn’t we already do that? There was a third??” or “well I got Upper Moon Two SO THERE” or “..........are you sure?” or even way, way after all is said and done, off in epilogue times, “you fought WHO by YOURSELF???” but I digress. Now back to Shinobu, losing her so early on in this marathon of high-stakes battles made her death seem forever ago by the time we got to another Pillar death. It would had been nice for more of them to react both with “no, not Shinobu!” and “we are in deep trouble” sort of ways. That made the glimpses we got of her in flashback feel way, way more nostalgic, since for our experiences as readers, she had already been gone a very long time. I like that the battle with Douma got stretched over so long a span of the manga, they really showed the stakes in how difficult of a foe he was, even if that battle was itself was relatively shorter than others. And as stand-ins for the readers to mourn Shinobu, I love how we got that both through Kanao and through Inosuke.  But yes, it sure would had been nice to get something from... Mitsuri.  Now, if I had only read the events of canon, manga chapter to manga chapter, and even the Taisho Secrets, I still never would have guessed that Shinobu and Mitsuri had such a warm friendship. I know this purely from the fanbooks and novels, and that is something I find a writing error that detracts a lot from the work. Some of the most apt criticism I’ve heard of the Kimetsu pacing is that it could have stood to give us one of more arc to bond with the characters at least a little more, so we could really, really be emotional over loosing them. We get all our spare Pillar interactions in works outside of canon and after Tanjirou initially gets to know Shinobu, he has no more on-screen interactions with her; she mostly appears in Taisho Secrets.  Pillar Training was fun and all, but maybe another arc with stakes in it that occurs closer to home and brings out some different sides of the Pillars in Tanjirou’s presence, instead of each of them getting one dance each with our protagonist. That would had been a chance to show Shinobu and Mitsuri’s friendship, in which case, we would had really, really wanted to see Mitsuri’s reaction.  But, Mitsuri had a job to do in the very, very, very heavy tension and battles that ran in weekly magazines for months on end. She carried the very heavy weight of needing to provide brevity. Her silliness contrasted against all that tension was fresh air for readers who had been holding their breath (no pun intended! kinda) through so much. And man, our reliance on her for that made it hurt all the more when things suddenly got very serious for her.  But, that means she was also unable to play a heavy emotional role too early on. There wasn’t room to give her a satisfyingly emotional reaction to Shinobu or Tokitou; when after all, this is the girl who was fretting about dearly beloved Oyakata-sama, was horrified to see the explosion, angirly attacked Muzan, but was saved from certain doom almost immediately after she was taken by surprise in the Infinity Fortress, and then she’s BACK TO 100% FANGIRL MODE. Like, giiiiiiiiiirl, Oyakata-sama just diiiiiiied, tone it down a notch.  I feel like I had more to say.  OH YEAH.  WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?: To fanfic, duh.  Going back to reaction and action and producing something with sellable pacing, again, I wouldn’t risk bogging down the tension-heavy final arc with too much open sadness (less is more definitely applies when the reaction scenes were often SO GOOD), but it clearly set up the desire for it. And, the length and intensity with which a work of fiction can live rent-free in audiences’ minds is a measure of its success.  If we MUST turn to fanfiction to get that emotional closure (or force the Pillars to get theirs), then this is proof of a job well done in making us care.   Herein lies the freedom with fanfiction: It doesn’t have to be good. It doesn’t have to sell. It doesn’t have to fit a regular serialized format. Fanfic is whatever it wants, all it has to do is indulgently scratch an itch.  I have way more stomach for sappiness in fanfic than in original canon, because I have higher expectations of canon to honor writing conventions, and to make decisions that will serve the overall story, not necessarily cater to my tastes.  But fanfic? Fanfic, you are here to serve me. Dive into those characters’ dry eyes with a jackhammer and gives me their tears. I don’t care how much you have to fry their brains to do it, give it to me.  I mean, I don’t write fanfic like that, noooo. At least, not that I post publicly. Ssh. No one needs to know aaaaaall my particular canon itches I wish to have picked raw. But all the more power to people who DO post that publicly and provide a great service to all the other people with that same need.  But, in the spirit of writing fic that tries to honor the spirit of canon, I try to sprinkle the juicy emotional potential canon could have had around as needed, to draw out what I feel canon just didn’t have the opportunity to give us. It’s ultimately self-servicing for what I wish canon would had done, but my style of published fic does try to stay widely appealing as a gen fic. Everybody’s got their own balances and tastes, and that’s cool.  And that is freedom canon authors don’t have.  I’ll conclude by saying that, although we as readers collectively earned it, the ending of Kimetsu no Yaiba was too bright and happy and specifically chose bittersweet moments that would be easy to swallow (pretty smart for a quick ending), but entirely skipped all the really heavy stuff in the immediate aftermath.

And yes, as difficult (and even dull) as it would be to slog through, there’s a part of me that wants to see all that, for the sake of closure. 

And now I sleep byyyyezzzzzzzzz