#I’m so serious though please let me ramble about this universe ask me questions I’m begging you

[finntheehumaneater]

from the prompts lists for a lil steddie sickfic 👉👈 bonus points if you can get an uncle wayne cameo in there too lmao

“I’m gonna be sick.” & “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”

hallo, liebe!!! I had way too much fun with this. I want to make this universe its own thing. Everybody send me asks about this I want to talk about my domestic steddie AU please, I love them so much.

(All ask prompt lists are in my pinned posts, and sorry for any mistakes, most of this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook paper, and it does not like my handwriting lmao)

TW: throwing up

Ozzy only liked to eat if someone was watching him. Steve said it was because he wanted to feel safe and protected, but Eddie knew it was because he was an attention whore.

He was currently perched on top of the table, his black tail swiping impatiently as he meowed at Eddie—not pawing the open laptop closed yet, but it looked like he was thinking about it.

“M'doing work, babe,” Eddie muttered gently, reaching out to pet the cat but he ducked away. He rifled through his notes again, trying to remember what name he and Steve had decided for the elven lord. Steve didn’t normally help with Eddie's novel—said he didn't know enough about fantasy and the like, and he didn't want to ruin it—but he had sat down with Eddie on the couch and looked through lists of Welsh names until he found one he thought sounded fit for an elven lord.

And Eddie had agreed, it was a name fit for an elven lord, but he couldn't remember, and he just needed to find the stupid paper with the character names—

Meow!

Eddie's eyes moved back to the cat, and that added on top of the stress of writing made something inside of him snap. “Ozzy, babe. I’m working.”

The cat shied away, his ears flattening and his eyes widening. Eddie ran a hand down his face.This wasn't worth yelling at his cat over.

“Oz…” he closed the laptop and picked up the cat, carrying him to the laundry room. They kept his food on top of the dryer, because when he and Steve had moved in (what... three years ago?) Ozzy had decided that the laundry room was his room, and that people could only actually do the laundry if he liked them.

Eddie set Ozzy down in front of the food dish and pressed a kiss to his side before going to get the hampers from his and Steve's (and Wayne’s) room.

Wayne had been living with them since they had bought the house, and he had lived with them in their apartment before that. he was in charge of doing the “adult things”, even though Eddie and Steve were nearing (thirty twenty-seven for Steve and twenty-eight for Eddie, although Eddie was almost twenty-nine), because Steve's memory couldn't be trusted for things he wasn't one hundred percent in on, and Eddie just couldn't be trusted to do most things on his own. He would much rather be writing.

Wayne still worked as a mechanic, downtown, but this time he liked his job. He'd never leave if he  could, but that meant that he wouldn't get to watch baseball with Steve.

Eddie swore that sometimes it felt like Wayne loved Steve more than him.

Steve was working as a teacher—middle schoolers—and he hadn't been doing it for all that long, but the kids loved him. And he loved them back. Especially one girl named Hayden, because he said she reminded him of Max (Max worked with Gareth at a bookstore a little while away. They shared an apartment, and Max didn't really "work" at the store, seeing how her eyesight fluctuated, but Gareth didn’t mind the company)

And then there was Eddie. Who wrote. The whole rockstar thing hadn't really worked out for him, but he and the guys still got together to play whenever Grant and Jeff were in town.

He was working on his hovel, and he hated every second of it. Sure, he loved writing, but writing an entire-ass-novel was hard.

"It's basically a Lord Of The Rings fanfiction!" He had sobbed to steve one night in bed after he had finally (after six months) finished the rough draft for the outline. “I hate it.”

Steve had just hummed in acknowledgment for a moment, half-curled around Eddie with the messy papers in his hands. "Isn't everything based off of something?"

Eddie had shrugged, keeping his face tucked into Steve’s neck.

“I like Ophelia.” Steve had whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head. "Isn't she the one that stabs the guy with the horns?"

Eddie tried to hum an “mhm” of confirmation, but it came as more of a whine of despair. 

“The drawings you did of her for El were pretty,” Steve had continued, his voice gentle and patient in a way that Eddie adored as he nudged his nose into Eddie's hair a bit more. "You should show her these on Sunday when she and her friend Maya come to visit." Eddie had. And honestly? Aside from Steve and Wayne, El was the only reason the novel was even being made. He wouldn't be able to even open his laptop without her nagging and consistent support over the phone.

She lived up north near Jonathan and Argyle, somewhere near New York, and she drove out with her roommate to visit him and Steve occasionally.

Eddie blinked when Ozzy meowed again, rubbing against his flannel pajama pants he hadn't changed out of yet. "All done, bud?" Ozzy didn't answer. 

Sometimes Eddie felt like he was going insane, talking to his cat.

He put in the detergent and made sure the clothes were spiraled so that they would wash better, before turning it on, the clear lid closed. He didn’t know what buttons to press, but he knew what noise they were supposed to make and in what order. Steve was normally in charge of laundry, but most of the kids had presentations to do, and the other half were doing theirs tomorrow. He’d probably be too tired to do the laundry when he got home.

Eddie heard the door open and close, and he assumed it was Steve, because Wayne wasn't supposed to be home for another hour or two.

"Stevie?" Eddie called out, and he kept talking when he didn't get an answer, because sometimes Steve got home and had what Eddie called Quiet Time, where he would just stay silent and listen to Eddie talk for a while before taking a shower and maybe having a nap." You want any apple? I had one just before you got here, but I left the peels on a bowl on the table, because I love you and things you like, even though it's weird. There’s seltzer too, but it's probably still warm because I only put them in the fridge like…fifteen minutes ago. Might be fine if you put ice in it, though.”

Eddie knew something was wrong even before Steve shuffled into the kitchen—all hunched over, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks wet, glasses perched low on his nose, nearly slipping off of his face—because there were no arms wrapped around his waist, no face pressed into his neck, and no Robin Buckley perched on his counter. 

She had been driving Steve to and from... basically everywhere since he had gotten his license taken away. The doctors—and anyone—didn't trust him to drive with his seizures. It had taken Steve a while to get used to not being everyone's personal chauffeur anymore.

"You okay, babes?" Eddie asked softly, concern seeping into his tone as Steve leaned against the doorframe. 

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick,” Steve choked out, his voice strained.

“Oh, sweetheart...did one of your kids get you sick? "Eddie asked, taking Steve’s glasses off and setting them onto the kitchen counter before cupping his elbow and helping him over to the bathroom.

He gently pushed Steve down to kneel in front of the toilet, tugging his hair up and out of his face. It wouldn't have gotten in the way, but it looked adorable when all of the fringe that would normally sweep over his forehead in its coif was gathered up in a little ponytail on top of his head.

As much as Eddie would always be there for Steve, he still made a face and cringed away slightly when Steve threw up, smoothing his hand up and down Steve's spine and shoulders as Steve gagged and sobbed between painful-sounding heaves.

Eddie slipped off Steve's jacket when he went limp in his arms, reaching over to flush the toilet. “Shower?” 

Steve shook his head, his face contorting into something pathetic that made Eddie’s heart tug.

"What's the matter, baby? "Eddie murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, his chin tucked over Steve's shoulder. He'd make Steve get up and brush his teeth in a bit after he had sat and rested. He was still shaking, so Eddie doubted he would be able to stand okay right then.

“I’ll have to call in sick tomorrow,” Steve gasped, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to go in.”

“You don’t want to stay home and rest? Darling, I love you and you are so beautiful, but you look like death right now. You’re more pale than me.”

“Liam has his presentation tomorrow. I have to be there! H-he has a hard time speaking, and—a-and I don’t want him to be nervous. I promised him I’d be there for him,” Steve said, his voice broken and desperate, and God, Eddie was so in love with man that it physically hurt.

Steve was so kind, and caring, and sweet, and compassionate, and the list just went on, and on, and on. 

“Look at me,” Eddie whispered, his fingers brushing over Steve’s stomach. “Just breathe, okay? Liam will be okay.”

Steve shook his head again, his breath shaky and his hands gripping at Eddie’s arms like he was scared to let go. He looked like he was going to throw up again if he didn’t calm down, and didn’t want him to have to go through that anymore. 

“Liam will be okay,” Eddie repeated, his voice a bit more firm as he pressed a hand gently to Steve’s chest. “Breathe.”

Steve did breathe, but his voice was still shaking, and Eddie’s hand went up and down with each movement. “I promised him…”

“I know you promised him,” Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “But you can’t control these things. He’ll be alright, baby, he’s a good kid.”

Eventually, Steve’s hands loosened and slid up to Eddie’s shoulders. He pushed himself to stand, and Eddie followed after him. “I’m…I’m okay now.”

“You’re okay,” Eddie parroted back, rubbing Steve’s arm up and down as Steve got his toothbrush out of the mug Wayne had put in the bathroom shelf. It was for some fishing company in the Adirondacks that Eddie had never heard of.

The door creaked open just a bit more than it already was and in strolled Ozzy, meowing lightly. Eddie picked him up when he stood to paw at his thigh, cooing, “Aw, there’s my baby…”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Ozzy’s head, and the cat meowed in protest, now seeing it be a bit against his original plan of being cradled and snug in Eddie’s arms if it meant he had to be kissed.

The poor thing lived a very hard life. 

“M’thought I was your baby,” Steve muttered around his toothbrush, and Eddie rolled his eyes, gently knocking his hip into Steve’s, kissing Ozzy’s head again as he squirmed and tried to escape the confines of Eddie’s arms.

“I can have more than one baby,” he said, and then his voice turned more serious. “Oh, shit, I have to call Nance and tell her that we can’t have Megan over tomorrow afternoon.”

Megan was Nancy’s three year old daughter, and she was lovely, but she was stubborn.

Steve’s face crumpled slightly as he washed the toothbrush off, and Eddie watched him try to hide it by pinching at his nose and sighing. “I’m so sorry, Eds, this is ruining all of our plans…”

“Hey, no,” Eddie set Ozzy down when he started to kick at his arm, biting at the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Steve, honey…”

Steve’s eyes were glassy again when Eddie finally got him to look at him. “I hate being sick,” he practically whimpered, his expression pleading, and fuck—if Eddie could make him feel better he would, but that wasn’t really an option.

“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured sympathetically, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “You wanna go and lay down? I’ll get you some Tylenol?”

Steve nodded and Eddie helped him to bed, getting him changed even though he could do it himself. He got Steve the pill and some water and told him that if he wanted to shower when he woke up he could, but the water couldn’t be hot in case he passed out again, like he had the last time he was sick. Head injuries with Steve were no joke.

He got Steve’s bag from where he had left it by the front door when he had come in, then switched the laundry over and when he was just sitting down to work again, Wayne got home.

“You’re early.”

Wayne shrugged, picking up one of the apple peels out of the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “Katie forced me to come back before I started workin’ on another car.”

“Hm,” Eddie hummed, opening the laptop. “Steve got home sick, so be nice.”

“M’always nice.”

Eddie sighed, shaking his head slightly with a smile before getting back to work.

Steve hadn’t wanted Eddie to sleep with him in case he got sick, too—offering to sleep on the couch instead so that Eddie could have the bed, but Eddie had very lovingly said “fuck no” to that. He was curled around Steve, nose pressed into the sweaty hair on the back of Steve’s neck. 

Wayne was out on their neighbor’s porch smoking, and Ozzy was put away in the laundry room (his cat house had been moved there before Eddie crawled into bed, he wasn’t evil) so that he wouldn’t wake everyone up at four in the morning. 

There was a trash can by the bed, because Steve had thrown up again after dinner, even though he had barely eaten anything. 

“How much did you write today?” Steve whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, babes,” Eddie muttered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder.

“But how much?”

“Three thousand, maybe. Maybe a bit less.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Debatable.”

Steve laughed, then coughed, wincing.

“Go to sleep,” Eddie whispered, his lips brushing against Steve’s skin.

Steve still had that ridiculous ponytail on top of his head. Either he didn’t know it was there still, or he had finally come around to realizing how adorable it was.

(More of this au, and the Doemstic!Steddie AU MasterList) Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369

[katelynnwrites]

pairing: Ona Batlle x f!Reader

warnings: implications of homophobia and parent issues

word count: 2760

summary: your girlfriend is moving to england and therefore so are you

a/n: i feel like this is kind of disconnected but oh well. this fic is named after and slightly based off the song London Boy by Taylor Swift

Home Is Where The Heart Is

‘Baby? I need to tell you something.’ Ona bites her lip nervously, fidgeting with the ring on her finger.

‘Okay?’

Your girlfriend reaches out to take your hand, guiding you over to her bed where you sit down, facing each other.

‘Um I want you, I need you to know that I love you.’ She hesitantly starts, making you rub comforting circles onto her hand. She’s clearly anxious and you hope the gesture is enough to calm her down a little.

It does and she takes in a deep breath before quickly saying, ‘I got an offer from Manchester United and I want to take it.’

‘Okay.’ You nod slowly, still not understanding what the problem is.

‘If you want to break up with me I understand because long distance might not work out and I-’ Ona rambles until you stop her by squeezing her hands.

‘Ona breathe.’ You instruct her and she exhales slowly, doing as you ask.

‘I don’t want to break up with you. I love you, you’re my girlfriend and your career is important to me. You and I both know this move will be good for you. You’ve said it yourself, Manchester United is a brilliant team you’ve always dreamed of playing for. ’

‘But long distance. What if you suddenly decide you don’t like it or you stop loving me?’ Ona lets go of your hand in favour of running her hands through her hair in mild frustration.

She was so worried, the last thing she wanted to do was ruin your relationship. The thought had been on her mind ever since she heard from her agent. It even kept her up at night.

Ona looks up and the words come naturally to you.

‘I’ll move to England with you.’

You’ve never been surer about something before but Ona’s eyes widen in shock.

‘You’re kidding.’ She breathes.

‘I’m not. The details and logistics I have to work out but I could easily apply for a university in Manchester.’ You explain, already running over the possibilities.

‘Think about this. You’re willing to move to England for me. I don’t even know if it’ll work out at United, we both barely speak English mi amor please just think about this.’ She urges even as she silently hopes you were serious.

She needn’t have worried because you were.

Shrugging lightly, you tell her as much, ‘I would love to move to England with you, speaking English will be a challenge but I’ve always wanted to improve on it and to answer your earlier question, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you. The most important question now is do you want to have a roommate?’

‘Yes!’ Ona cups your face, kissing you passionately.

In that moment, she thinks she’s never been happier or more in love.

******

You don’t tell your parents though, not until Ona had signed the contract, the one way plane tickets had been bought, the apartment more or less settled and your enrollment confirmed by the University of Manchester.

It wasn’t that you were afraid to tell them it was more like you knew they would be difficult about it and were putting it off for as long as you could.

The conversation goes exactly how you expect it to.

Ona insisted on coming with you, saying it was the least she could do. She had only met your parents once, very briefly but it was enough for her to realise what kind of people they were.

She knew how you felt about your parents and right before you walked in the door, she kissed you reassuringly.

Standing beside you, she discreetly holds your hand as you explain to your parents, the decision you had made.

The decision they had immediately protested against.

‘I’m leaving in two weeks. It’s already settled.’ You calmly say.

‘This choice of yours is reckless and you’ll come to regret it.’ Your mother insists, glaring at you as your father sighs.

‘Mom you’ve always said you wanted me to improve my English. This gives me the chance to do that.’ You try and reason.

‘I meant by taking more classes not moving to England. Are you even able to take care of yourself? I won’t fly over to fix your messes!’ She heatedly continues.

‘I am an adult. I can take care of myself.’

Your mother scoffs and you sigh.

‘Is your problem with me moving or is it with who I’m moving with?’

‘You say you love her but you’re only nineteen, how do you even know what love is? You’ve only been with her what? A year?’

‘It’s been two years and love? I certainly didn’t learn it from you or dad, I learnt it from Ona. She taught me what love is. I love her mom and I know she loves me too. These two years with her have made me happier than I’ve ever been.’ You fight to keep your voice level and Ona must have sensed it because she squeezes your hand gently.

‘If it helps ma’am, I truly love your daughter.’ Ona tries but that only seems to make your mother angrier.

‘This is a family matter. Stay out of it,’ She snaps, making your girlfriend flinch.

That’s when you decide enough is enough.

‘You don’t get to talk to Ona like that. I’m moving to Manchester. I’m moving to Manchester with my girlfriend and you don’t have to like it. You don’t have to support it either.’ Your words are firm, leaving no room for argument.

Tugging on Ona’s hand, you lead the both of you out of the house you grew up in without a second glance.

******

‘I could get used to this.’ You tease as Ona finishes making breakfast for the both of you.

She blushes but happily reciprocates the small kiss you give her in thanks.

Over the meal, she tells you of her plans for the week and you likewise.

It had been three weeks and the both of you had settled nicely into your shared apartment and the new country. You each had your own room but you haven’t once slept in your own bed, choosing to curl up beside Ona in hers every night.

Not that she had any complaints about that.

You finish and stand up first, giving her another kiss.

‘I’ll pick you up at the training grounds after my classes okay? I love you.’

Ona smiles back, giving you a little wave, ‘Te quiero más.’

******

She introduces you to the team after her debut match.

‘This is my girlfriend.’ She shyly says, grabbing your hand to briefly kiss the back of it.

‘Oh so this is the famous girlfriend?’ A woman with blonde hair teases.

‘Famous?’ You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

‘The whole team knows about you already, Ona never shuts up about you.’ She elaborates, making you grin.

Ona blushes, ‘This is Jackie. She’s really nice.’

You laugh, ‘If she’s messing with you, I like her already.’

More of her teammates come over and Ona wraps her arm around you, introducing you easily.

******

Ona stirs awake, hearing your voice outside the bedroom door. She blinks sleepily, reaching for her phone to check the time. 1.30am.

Making her way to the doorway, she hesitates, listening to the hushed conversation you were having.

‘Mom it’s late. Go to sleep and we’ll continue this tomorrow.’

There’s a beat of silence and you sigh. Ona can picture you leaning against the wall in frustration, the sudden quiet an indication that whatever answer your mother gave, you didn't like it.

She wants to go to you but it’s like her feet won’t move.

‘Mom I already told you I’m not coming back. It doesn’t matter how many times you ask, I’m happy here. I’ve enrolled in the university and I really enjoy my classes.’

Another stretch of silence before you gasp.

‘No I will not break up with Ona. How could you even ask me to do that?

There’s the sound of you putting your phone down and she figures you must be sitting on the counter.

She sighs. She loved having you with her, she really did but was it worth it? Without meaning to, she was causing a rift in your family. You’d never gotten along with them but now it felt like she was the reason for all the arguing.

Still, she quietly walks up to you, touching your back gently and making you jump.

‘Lo siento.’ Ona whispers even as you relax once you realise it’s her.

‘Hey mi amor. What are you doing up?’

‘Should be asking you that but I already know the answer.’

You groan softly as she leans down to loosely rest her arms on your shoulders.

‘How much did you hear?’

Ona sighs, ‘Enough.’

You kiss her palm gently, ‘I’m not changing my mind. I’m staying.’

Ona swallows hard, ‘I love you so so much and I want nothing more than for you to be here with me but I feel like it’s my fault your parents are so unhappy with you. I’m just saying that I’ll understand if you want to move back home. We’ll make long distance work…’

Turning around, you firmly but gently grab her chin to make her look you in the eyes.

‘Ona listen to me. I don’t want to move back to Spain. I don’t care that my parents aren’t happy with me or with the fact that I’m dating you. It’s not your fault that we’re arguing all the time because they’re never satisfied with anything I do. That’s not the point though because you are my home.’

Kissing her lightly, you brush your thumb over her cheekbone before softly adding, ‘Wherever you go, I’ll go too. They say home is where the heart is right? Well I gave you my heart a long time ago.’

Ona sniffles, quickly cupping your face and pulling you into a passionate kiss that conveys everything she was feeling.

Her happiness, her excitement for the life you were building together and most of all her love for you.

******

At first as you didn’t know much English or have any friends in England, you spent a lot of time hanging around the United girls.

You often sat on the stands, doing your homework while Ona trained.

Occasionally, you would look up and the girls would wave at you. Ona would blow kisses and you would send her a wink back.

Some days you were there just to cheer on the girls and your shouts of encouragement never failed to make them laugh.

The training staff were so used to you, even the receptionist would say hello when you walked in.

Eventually as the weeks went by, you made some friends from your classes so you spent time doing your homework with them instead.

They were very helpful, teaching you English as they introduced you to the various cafes and coffee shops found around the city. It was nice to get to know them outside of school and learn more about the country you were now living in.

You still make it a point though, to go by the training grounds at least once a week to say hi to the girls.

******

‘Wake up my love.’ Ona says, in between the feather light kisses she’s pressing onto your face.

You scrunch your nose up, reaching out blindly for another pillow.

Ona laughs, handing you a pillow before she unceremoniously sprawls herself on top of you.

You gasp as she knocks the air out of you, snapping awake immediately.

‘Ona!’

Pushing her off you, you sit up with some difficulty.

Your girlfriend shakes with laughter as she shrugs, ‘I tried waking you up nicely but it didn’t work.’

Raising an eyebrow, you jump on top of her, knocking her flat on her back.

‘Baby-’ Her eyes widen at the mischievous look on your face. She shakes her head but it’s too late, you dig your fingers into her sides making her shriek.

‘Say you’re sorry.’ You tease as she laughs uncontrollably.

Ona tries to get you off her but you don’t relent until she pants, ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’

She has tears streaming down her cheeks as she looks up at you with the biggest smile on her face.

‘Well played.’

******

Ona’s team loves you and she often jokes that they love you more than her. You’re always welcome at team bonding sessions, the team treating you like one of their own.

You attend all their games and on away days, you get sneaked onto the bus so many times that Marc eventually gives up and makes an exception for you.

This extends to Ona’s hotel room as well so the team doesn’t have to sneak you in anymore. Not that they had minded at all.

As Ona’s roommate, Jackie often found it adorable when she woke up to find you and Ona in each other’s arms. The hotel beds were small but neither of you minded because it let you be even closer to each other.

Without the both of you knowing, she often took photos to show the other team members who took to calling the both of you the cutest couple they had ever seen.

******

Humming softly, you unload the dishwasher, putting the plates away neatly. Your music was on shuffle and the song playing put you in a particularly good mood.

Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride

Babe, don't threaten me with a good time

They say home is where the heart is

But God, I love the English

You can’t help it, singing along to the lyrics of one of your favourite songs. There’s not many dishes left and you’re on your tiptoes, reaching for one of the higher cupboards when you feel arms wrap around your waist. You jump, your heart stopping for a beat.

‘Oh my god Ona don’t scare me like that!’

Your girlfriend laughs, kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear as an apology. She takes the plate from you, easily reaching the cupboard before she traps you against the counter.

Smiling at her, you let her kiss you, her hands skimming under your shirt.

You know I love a London boy

I enjoy nights in Brixton, Shoreditch in the afternoon

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you

Ona has the softest of gazes on you.

‘You don’t love a London boy.’

Shaking your head lightly, you gently trace a path from her cheekbone to her jaw.

‘No. I love a girl from Vilassar de Mar.’ You whisper and Ona laughs quietly.

‘And I love you. More than anything.’

She leans in to kiss you again but you’re smiling so hard that you can’t kiss her back.

‘Hey! Stop smiling so I can kiss you properly!’ She whines.

You giggle as she gives up, settling for a tight hug instead.

She’s still in her training clothes and as you relax into her arms, you can’t help but tease, ‘You’re sweaty babe.’

‘Mhm. Had fun at training today though. I’ll tell you about it after showering.’ Ona mumbles into your shoulder.

Kissing her cheek, you slyly ask, ‘Want to tell me about it in the shower? Because I think I need one too.’

Your girlfriend smirks, already pulling you towards the bedroom, ‘I like that idea very much.’

******

You make it through quarantine together and three years later, Ona’s family had pretty much adopted you as their own.

She brought you with her whenever she visited home and on the most recent occasion, her mother had pulled you into the kitchen and told you that you didn’t have to ask her blessing whenever you decided to ask Ona to marry you.

When you had blushed and stammered your thanks, she had kissed you on the forehead saying that maybe you wouldn’t even have to propose but simply say yes because Ona had apparently asked her for advice on rings.

******

Somewhere along the way, you and Ona had adopted a puppy and as you climb onto the bed where Ona is snuggling said dog, she glances at you adoringly.

‘Hi mi amor.’

‘Hey.’ There’s a smile on your face just being with her.

Ona stretches out an arm, ‘Want to join in on the cuddles?’

You mean it with everything in you when your smile widens and you say, ‘There’s nothing I would like more.’

Because home is where the heart is and Ona Batlle has your heart.

Spanish Translations:

mi amor - my love

‘Te quiero más.’ - ‘i love you more.’

lo siento - i’m sorry

Vilassar de Mar - it’s a town in the province of Barcelona, where Ona was born, according to google

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 311: Hand Gun

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “thinkin’ about dropping in some woke analogies of the very real and very presently relevant issue of racial profiling idk what do you guys think” and then shrugged and did it without waiting for an answer, and ngl it was a bit sudden, but I’m here for it. All Might was all “DEKU YOU NEED TO EAT” and Deku was all “OKAY” and took his hero bento and went to go stand dramatically on a tower in the rain whilst having some highly anticipated Vestige flashbacks. OFA II was all, “sup, I guess I’m not Kacchan... OR AM I,” and ngl I think he is?? Alternate universes anybody?? Hello??? But anyway, so OFA the First a.k.a. Yoichi was all “remember that time you guys rescued me from my evil brother and Two took my hand and we Had A Moment?”, and Two and Three were all “ahh yeah good times”, and it was very nice and very, very gay. The chapter ended with it being very unclear if Two and Three have actually lent their power to Deku yet or not lmao. Y’all need to get your shit together dudes.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “what if I gave a random bad guy a fucking tommy gun that shoots nails” and jesus christ calm down son. The Hawksquad, a.k.a. SQUAWK as per @hotchocolatier​, are all “time to drive aimlessly around town acting like Deku has a restraining order on us because that’s literally the best plan to combat the League we could come up with,” and I have no further comment. Hawks is all “idk about you guys but I want to know more about AFO and Tomura’s whole deal” and I can’t remember the last time I identified so strongly with one of these characters. All Might is all, “[EXPLODES???]”, and the chapter ends with that mysterious hot girl from the Tartarus breakout being all “HELLO I CAN TURN INTO A GUN AND I LITERALLY DON’T GIVE A FUCK” and (1) WOW, and (2) IT’S TRUE, SHE CAN, AND SHE REALLY DOESN’T. GODDAMN.

(ETA: so this wholly escaped my notice on the first go, and also has nothing to do with the chapter itself, but I only just realized that this chapter was scanlated by a new group, TCB Scans. they actually did a very good job, and I’m curious if they’ve found a new RAW provider, because the quality this week is actually crazy good in comparison to what we’ve been dealing with for the past few months. I’m gonna have to get caught up on what exactly happened here lol.)

so what will it be this week? more Vestige antics? more of Sad Nomad Deku standing on buildings and pretending like he’s some cool aloof antihero, as if he could fool us when we all know his hero backpack is secretly stuffed full with his nerd diaries and the remnants of all the hero bentos that All Might keeps giving him?? or, just putting it out there, just a crazy thought, but you don’t suppose we might actually cut back to U.A.? mmm. side-eyes emoji

maaaaaan I’m starting to get tired of this trend of beginning chapters by dropping in on random power-tripping civilians and/or Shindou lol. just once can we get a chapter that opens with someone I actually give a fuck about

oh at least Endeavor is here

A WHAT SUPPORT ITEM!??! HOLY SHIT DDLKJSLFKJL

lol somehow that’s more terrifying than bullets for me?? like I’m fully aware that bullets will fuck you up way worse and that in real life nail guns probably don’t work like this AT ALL and only have a range of like... hold up let me just google... up to 100 to 150 m/s and distances of up to 500m wait WHAT

okay wait. hold up. like I was expecting google to tell me nail guns only shoot a few feet at most, and instead the first search result is some CDC blog article that’s “dispelling” the “””myth””” -- please note my repeated sarcastic quotation marks -- that nail guns can fire 1400 feet per second, by explaining that actually they can fire anywhere from 315 ft/sec to 1,295 ft/sec, and that “it is in the pneumatic nail gun user’s best interest to handle these tools as if they were a firearm despite having a lower velocity” dlkjdslkjflkl

SO THAT SCENE IN IRON MAN 3 WHERE TONY RAIDS A HOME DEPOT AND BUYS A BUNCH OF RANDOM TOOLS AND SHIT AND GOES ON TO STAGE A ONE-MAN INVASION OF AN INTERNATIONAL TERRORIST’S FLORIDA MANSION HQ IS ACTUALLY TRUE. YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THE FILM “HOME ALONE” IS ACTUALLY A DOCUMENTARY. “the Discovery Channel television program “Mythbusters” compared the penetration capacity of an airborne projectile shot from a pneumatic framing nail gun to that of a 9mm hand gun” HELLO YES AND A MERRY “WHAT THE FUCK” TO YOU AS WELL

anyway, so. there’s apparently a reason why the Number One hero, who can burn people with the intensity of a sun going supernova, is hiding here behind this concrete support column making frowny faces. nope. nuh uh. he ain’t about that. I don’t blame you buddy

so now he’s barrel rolling out of his hiding place and setting this dude THE FUCK ON FIRE because HELL NO. BAD ENOUGH I HAD TO WATCH THAT FUCKING MUSHROOM EPISODE LAST WEEK! YOU TAKE THAT SHIT SOMEWHERE ELSE

LOL look at his face

I know the context is actually him being all “I know I’m responsible for basically everything that happened and so that’s why I’m so grim and serious about this mission to set things right piece by piece,” but in my mind this pissed-off face is 100% all because this dude tried to shoot his eye out with a nail gun. look at that. you made him go full flame face again. beard and all. protecting his face so that it can hopefully melt any stray nails that get too close. nope nope nope

good lord. so what’s up next. let me guess the guy fighting Best Jeanist has like an atomic chainsaw or some shit

lol nope we’re just cutting back to Hawks and Jeanist chilling in the Jesla after they’ve wrapped things up

Jeanist has got some serious Groot energy you guys jesus christ he’s like 12 feet tall

oh snap someone threw a pipe at him now

today is just the chapter of Endeavor being assaulted by random DIY tools I guess

I mean, I get why they’re pissed at him obviously; I would be too lol. but tbh I also don’t really understand the “get out of here we don’t want your help” attitude that all of these people suddenly seem to have?? like it if were me, I would be fucking DEMANDING for him and the other heroes to be working round the clock to fix their stupid mess. I mean who else is gonna do it?? it’s their mess, I sure don’t want to be the one to clean it up instead. anyways but whatever lol

oh shit?

so they haven’t dropped the whole “OFA secret potentially gets revealed to the world” thing yet after all. that makes sense I suppose, it did seem like that whole thing wound up playing out a bit too easily

anyway so yeah

the locals are definitely none too happy. well at least Dabi’s got something to be cheerful about I guess

so now we’re cutting to the interior of the Jesla and they’re chitchatting about the current investigation

oh wow this actually makes a bit of sense now. so there was a reason they were keeping their distance from Deku

please note that even in this abstract Endeavor’s-Mental-Image-Of-Him panel, Deku’s eyes still don’t have the light in them anymore :( my poor son

also ftr I still think using Deku as bait in this particular sense is the shittiest idea ever ngl. like sure, let’s let the sixteen-year-old run around battling miscellaneous escaped prison convicts while we stay several kilometers away ON PURPOSE despite the fact that you’re using him as bait to draw out the Big Bad, who just a reminder can destroy anything with a mere touch and who you were all basically helpless against. what exactly are you all planning to do if Tomura or one of the other League VIPs actually shows up to retrieve him?? are you even keeping tabs on him at all in real time?? jesus

(ETA: well that escalated quickly lol.)

Horikoshi is all of a sudden dropping whole pages of exposition here and I can’t be bothered to summarize this lol so just,

a big fat YES to what Jeanist said, though. that’s why imo they would have been better off laying a trap at U.A. rather than just wandering around out in the open. I assume they’re trying to cut their potential losses because U.A. is full of students (and civilians), but those students also happen to be more capable than pretty much anyone else in the manga at this point. and tbh they’re already in life-threatening danger regardless of how things play out from here on, so they might as well at least try to use the few advantages they have right now. U.A. is almost certainly going to come under siege at some point anyway, so they might as well prepare for it

lol I don’t think I’m explaining this very well because I don’t have the patience right now to break it down point by point like it really ought to be, so for now I’ll just say that imo “U.A. siege” stands a good chance of being the eventual endgame even now, and so this whole “Deku runs around being bait” arc is really just killing time until then lol. like and subscribe for more rambling nonsensical takes such as this. maybe next time I’ll even put it all into one single sentence for maximum meandering senior citizen rant value

well it’s nice that they’re finally talking about all of this I guess

we readers have known all of this for months now but this confirms the heroes are finally caught up. ALSO, Hawks is so fucking smart, as always. kinda wonder if things would have played out differently if All Might had let him in on the secret a bit earlier. probably that’s why Horikoshi made damn sure they didn’t find out until after the War arc lol

OH MY GOD YOOOOOO HAWKS OUT HERE ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS

“anyone else wondering why AFO bothered to raise Tomura as his fake heir for fifteen years when he was secretly planning on taking over his body the whole time” YES, [raises hand] lmao Hawks where the hell were you when I was debating this “AFO is the final villain and Tomura is just his pawn” thing on multiple occasions over the past several years lol

lmao seeing them debate the metaphysics of OFA and all of its mystical bullshit is seriously surreal you guys

JEANIST HAVE YOU CHECKED OUT MY META TAG I HAVE WRITTEN SO MANY ESSAYS. I ACTUALLY WAS PLANNING ON WRITING ANOTHER ESSAY ABOUT THE THING THAT I’M PRETTY SURE HAWKS IS ABOUT TO BRING UP, BUT I NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT WHOOPS, BUT MAYBE I WILL NOW LOL LET’S SEE HOW IT GOES

yes!!

WHICH AFO FUCKING ENSURED HE WOULD BE BY LITERALLY PLANNING OUT EVERY LAST DETAIL OF HIS FAMILY TRAGEDY, FROM SECRETLY GIVING TENKO THE QUIRK TO MAKING SURE NO CIVILIANS OR HEROES WOULD HELP HIM UNTIL AFO FINALLY STEPPED IN. I’M 1000% CONVINCED THIS IS THE CASE YOU GUYS. NOT JUST BECAUSE I’M NOT A FAN OF “THE WORLD IS A FUNDAMENTALLY SHITTY PLACE, ACTUALLY” TAKES BECAUSE MISTER ROGERS TOLD ME TO ALWAYS LOOK FOR THE HELPERS, BUT ALSO BECAUSE IT LITERALLY JUST DOESN’T MAKE A LICK OF SENSE OTHERWISE. THEIR ENTIRE HOUSE CAVED IN FFS, YOU’RE TELLING ME NONE OF THE NEIGHBORS FUCKING OVERHEARD THAT SHIT AND WENT “UMMMMMMMMM” AND WENT TO SEE WHAT WAS GOING ON?? “DIDN’T THERE USED TO BE A HOUSE HERE, AND LIKE A WHOLE FAMILY, AND SHIT?”

LIKE I’M SORRY, BUT IT’S ONE THING TO SAY IT’S REALISTIC THAT NOT A SINGLE PERSON WOULD ATTEMPT TO HELP THE WANDERING TRAUMATIZED CHILD AFTERWARDS (WHICH I DISAGREE WITH AS WELL BUT AT LEAST THAT’S MORE SUBJECTIVE), AND IT’S A WHOLE OTHER THING TO ARGUE THAT IT’S REALISTIC THAT NO ONE WOULD BE FUCKING NOSY. LIKE THAT’S A WHOLE DIFFERENT LEVEL OF “THAT’S NOT HOW ANY OF THIS WORKS” ENTIRELY LOL. anyway tl;dr AFO is a piece of shit and Tomura’s entire worldview is based on a magnificently intricate and savagely cruel lie more at 11

anyway so after all that ranting it looks like that wasn’t even what Hawks was talking about after all lol. I just went off for absolutely no reason lol oh well. instead it seems that Hawks is suggesting that Tomura’s carefully cultivated hatred might not yet have actually reached “can defeat OFA” levels even after all of that trauma. interesting!

don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here while my brain furiously scrambles to put together all the parallels between Hawks and Tomura that it never noticed before until exactly this second. like I’m not even sure that was the intent here at all (I need to check out another translation or two lol), but regardless my mind decided that now would be the perfect time to make the connection between these two twenty-somethings who both had horrific childhoods and spent years being molded by their respective manipulative guardians, and developed eerily similar “laugh at everything because what else can you do” coping mechanisms to deal with it all hmmmmm

anyway so they were talking more about their strategy, but now all of a sudden Jeanist’s phone is beeping??

AND NOW WE’RE CUTTING AWAY TO ALL MIGHT AND HIS MIGHTMOBILE DAMMIT so that means the call to Jeanist was actually something important then!! WAS IT BAKUGOU OMG. DOES YOUR INTERN WANT A WORD FFFKLFSJK please it’s been so long I just need a little crumb or two to tide me over lmao have mercy

anyway so All Might’s following the GPS tracking device he’s apparently got planted on Deku (which in my conspiracy headcanons he’s actually had for a long time now, like since before DvK2 lol because HOW ELSE WOULD HAVE HAVE KNOWN THAT THEY WERE FIGHTING EACH OTHER IN GROUND BETA, PEOPLE) and thinking angsty thoughts about Deku’s sucky life

AND NOW ALL MIGHT’S PHONE IS RINGING TOO?? BAKUGOU HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE YOU CALLING. “WHERE ARE YOU HIDING THE NERD GODDAMMIT”

OMG

lol is he under attack or is he just finally giving All Might the slip like we all know he SECRETLY PLANNED TO ALL ALONG oh my poor dumb angstmuffin

OMG AHHHHHHH WHAT

DID ALL MIGHT JUST FUCKING DIE LMAO NO OF COURSE NOT, BUT WHAT

WHAT IS HAPPENING OMG

THE FUCK IS THAT. AT LEAST IT’S NOT A NAIL

OH IT’S A SPEAKER!! OMG DID THEY TAKE ALL MIGHT HOSTAGE

“THEY’RE HERE” WELP, TIME TO SEE JUST HOW SHITTY THIS SHITTY PLAN REALLY IS LOL

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHE!!!!

omg. AND OVERHAUL JUST CHILLING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND ALL “WHAT DO YOU EVEN WANT ME TO DO I’VE GOT NO FUCKING ARMS” YEAH GOOD RIDDANCE LOL

DOES THIS GIRL HAVE ONE GIANT LEG OR WHAT, LIKE WHAT’S THE DEAL HERE

-- HOLD UP WAIT, THE GUN IS HER ARM, HOLY SHIT SHE CAN TURN INTO A GUN -- OKAY HOLD UP BECAUSE I NEED TO SAY THAT IN BIGGER TEXT BECAUSE !!!!

YOU GUYS, THE COOL TARTARUS GIRL IS BACK AND HER QUIRK IS “CAN TURN INTO A FUCKING GUN.” THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! MY BEST GIRL MT. GUN IS FINALLY BACK ON THE SCENE WITH HER QUIRK “CAN DO ANYTHING A GUN CAN DO.” “I HEARD Y’ALL WENT AND NAMED ONE OF YOUR HEROES ‘GUNHEAD’ EVEN THOUGH HIS HEAD ISN’T EVEN A GUN, LIKE WTF IS UP WITH THAT LET ME SHOW YOU HOW IT’S DONE” DANG OKAY

lmao only fifteen pages this week, and STILL NO KACCHAN (THEN WHO WAS PHONE!!!), but man I don’t even care because finally we’ve got a cliffhanger that’s actually deserving of being a cliffhanger! hot dog. okay then

[ranhaitanisgf]

;; 𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎

otherwise read as: venti is purposely avoiding you for a reason

--

❧ masterlist

"Venti, hey-"

"Sorry, (Y/N), I have a show to go to! Let's talk some other time!" You inwardly groaned as he made another excuse.

You had been trying to talk with Venti for the last month, but he had been consistently ignoring you and making excuses. You weren't sure if you had done anything wrong, but it was making you nervous.

What if he hated you?

You were fine if he didn't like you that way, but you wouldn't be able to stand it if you had done something to make him hate you. You had asked Aether, Kaeya, Lisa, and many more, to try and figure out what was wrong with him, but they just changed the subject. They definitely knew something, and just weren't saying anything.

You walked to the General Goods store, making small talk with Blanche before buying a bag of apples. The most you would get to interact with him was when he finished a performance, and you would leave a bag of apples for him.

You watched him sing, and as always, he sounded like an angel, although you would suppose that him being an Archon could somehow be an advantage.

Before you left the bag of apples, you slipped a note in. You weren't going to rest until you found out what was going on with Venti, and why he was ignoring you.

Venti, meet me at Windrise tonight. -(Y/N)

--

Commissions had taken longer today, so you weren't able to meet Venti at Windrise until quite late into the night, around 11:30. You hoped that you hadn't come too late, because you might have been looking forward to this meetup more than you should.

But, as you reached under the big tree, you realized that maybe you had come a little too late. Venti was nowhere to be seen in his usual spot, and you frowned.

I knew I shouldn't have spent all that time helping Pallad... (this is a pallad hate account‼️)

Nonetheless, you sat under the tree anyway, pulling your legs up to your chest as you looked at the stars peeking out from beyond the leaves of the tree. It had been a long day, and you were utterly exhausted. Two commissions in Dragonspine, and two ruin hunters to defeat was quite a day in your opinion.

"(Y/N)! I was wondering when you would show up!" You jolted from the sudden voice, looking around to see where it was coming from it.

"Up here!" You looked up into the plentiful branches to see Venti, casually waving you over with a couple of empty bottles of dandelion wine.

You heaved yourself up, climbing the tree and making your way up to Venti, who had a small smile on his face.

Slightly panting, you sat down next to him, quirking a brow at him.

(for reference you guys are sitting like this but facing each other and on a tree branch cause I didn't know how to explain it, but ignore how this idiot is literally about to cut himself off the branch okay that's the only picture I could find)

"So...first of all..." You paused, taking a glance behind him.

"Are you drunk?"

"No! Why would you think that?" You merely pointed to the empty bottles of wine beside him.

"You really think I could get drunk off of that!? I feel offended (N/N)!" You flushed at the sudden use of a nickname, coughing awkwardly to try and hide it.

"Anyways! To get straight to the point, I know you've been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong, or something to offend you? If I did, I'm sorry, just please tell me what's going on." Venti's face faded from happy to what looked like a troubled expression. He sighed, looking at you for a moment before turning his head to the side, gazing out into the landscape.

"Venti...is something wrong?" You looked at the side of his face, trying to glean something from his expression, but all you could see was sadness and confusion.

"Are you in love with someone?" The sudden question made your heart beat a little quicker, and your whole body felt nervous, but you decided to answer anyway. You just hoped that he wouldn't ask more than that.

"Um, yeah..."

Please don't ask more.

Being in love with Venti is a confusing thing, especially since you knew he was the Anemo Archon. It was hard to know that someday he might fly away and never return; that he might go dormant for another millennium. What would your purpose in this world be then?

"What are they like?" He asked. Your eyes widened and you started to panic.

How am I supposed to describe Venti, to Venti, without him noticing that it's him?!

"Well, uh...they live in Mondstadt...and they annoy me a lot, and I always buy apples for them-"

Wait, Venti is the only person I buy apples for-

"SUNSETTIAS! I buy sunsettias for them, not apples...my bad, haha..." You played with the hem of your shirt, looking at Venti to see if he had any reaction.

"I see..." A slightly awkward silence fell, and you weren't sure what to say in response.

"Uh, are you in love with anyone, I guess?" Venti gently laughed, but you could hear pain laced in it. Your eyebrows furrowed; what was wrong with him?

"Yes." He suddenly turned to you, and you were able to see the tears welling up in his eyes.

"Venti..." You murmured. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling his face into your shoulder. You could tell he was surprised at first, but he eventually warmed up to it, his arms going around your waist and holding you. You could feel his silent tears against your shirt, and you gently rested your cheek against the top of his head.

"You didn't answer my question before." You whispered, playing with the hair on the back of his head. He could probably hear your heartbeat skyrocketing, but you were just going to play it cool, and hopefully, he would forget about it.

"What question?" He asked in a soft voice. You sighed, laughing a little bit at how he tried to change the subject when you asked him the first time.

"What's going on? Did something happen?" You asked. He didn't say anything for a good five minutes, but you didn't want to rush him. You weren't sure what it was that could be troubling him so much; he is an Archon after all, so was it something he couldn't fix even with that sort of power?

He mumbled something, but because you were so caught up in your thoughts, you didn't quite catch what he said.

"Huh? Sorry, I didn't hear you." Venti pulled himself up and took his hat off, laying it in between the two of you.

"(Y/N), you're the one I'm in love with." His eyes were cast downward towards the hat as he spoke, but as soon as you heard them, you froze.

Me?

You weren't even sure what to think; you had never thought it was possible for him to love you back. You had come to this universe looking for a new home, not to fall in love. You never would have imagined a future with somebody else, but here you were, thinking about him every night as you gazed at the stars.

"Venti...I-"

"The person you spoke of before, they're nice, right? They'll treat you like they should?" He cut you off, looking up at you for reassurance.

"Well, I would hope so...considering-"

"I need to go have a talk with them and make sure that they treat you well and don't break your heart, okay?" You started to laugh, wondering how long he was going to go on rambling about it.

"Hey, why are you laughing? I'm being serious here." You apologized in between laughs, before eventually calming yourself down.

"Okay okay, I'm sorry, but if you gotta have a talk with them that badly, then you might wanna go find a mirror and try talking to the reflection." Venti looked at you with a disheartened look, and you stared at him, waiting for him to figure it out.

It took probably a whole minute.

"(Y/N), you...?" You sighed, an exasperated smile on your face.

"Took you long enough you idiot." You leaned your forehead onto his, feeling a little confident.

He just looked at you with wide teal eyes, looking like he couldn't believe it.

"Hey Venti," You murmured, "-I'm sure you've figured out by now that I'm not from this world. Wanna know what I used to be?" A smile played on your lips as you looked at his questioning look.

"A half-god." When the whisper slipped from your lips, he looked at you in complete and utter shock, then he smiled one of the purest smiles you had seen. You looked to the side, trying to keep yourself from squealing.

It's too bright!!

His hand gently grabbed a hold of your chin and turned your head towards his before placing a gentle kiss upon your lips. All of a sudden, it felt like there was a wind current around you, and it felt like it was throwing your heart up in the air. The warmth that spread throughout your body felt like it could last forever.

So, this is what it's like to be in love.

He pulled away, and the wind around the two of you slowed down before coming to a stop. You rested your head on his chest, letting out a sigh of relief. This felt amazing; you never would have thought that love could feel like this.

Relaxing against him though also reminded you that you were exhausted from today. You might be immortal, but being a half-god meant you still needed sleep.

You could feel yourself starting to nod off, but tried to stay awake to be with Venti. His hand rested on the top of your head, his other arm securely around your lower back to keep you steady against him.

"Sleep, my cecilia, I will be here when you wake up." You frowned against him, trying to fight off the sleep, but you knew it was no use.

"Do you promise?" Venti gently laughed, his chin resting on the crown of your head.

"I promise."

~~

[yoonpobs]

to the touch | pjm

pairing: park jimin x oc (ft. brother yoongi)

genre: mutual pining, fluff, cute crushes, brothers best friend

warnings: JIMIN that's it

words: 5, 216

summary: he's back

“You’re … you’re here?” You squeak and it’s not one of your best moments even if you were sure Yoongi would argue otherwise and that you rarely had average moments, to begin with. But there was something about spontaneity and surprise that threw you off in the worst way possible and made your brain short-circuit to the point where you’re unable to throw coherent thoughts together. And this was definitely a surprise, one that you’d never expected to happen because—

“I am,” Jimin says curtly, tossing you a firm nod of his head when he pushes you aside and steps into your apartment like he’s been year a thousand times. But in reality, it’s his first time standing at your doorstep, first time knocking on your door, and definitely the first step he’s ever had the chance to get a glimpse of how your living room looks like.

You’re still gaping at the entrance with the door open and you’re sure if any of your neighbors were to step out of their homes, they’d just see a lone girl outside that looked a little too unnerved to bother. When you snap out of it and turn your body to face your visitor, he’s already made himself comfortable on your couch and it’s hard to piece together the fact that Jimin was quite in fact in your living room, and lounging on your couch, staring at your television like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“W-What—how?” You croak because there are about ten million different thoughts running through your head but the most pressing one is how Jimin looked … different.

A good difference, for sure. He’s always been handsome and unreasonably so. Especially with the way that he’s dyed his hair back to black and the gentle fluff of how it lays atop his head. You note that he still kept his style despite him going MIA for three years and wore slacks that shaped his legs (and butt) beautifully with a casual shirt tucked into the waistband of his pants. It was unfair how effortlessly good-looking he was on a spontaneous occasion while you looked anything but, especially with your sweats and old tank top.

But Jimin had always been a little hard to read. Terrifying and brassy all at once but never obstructive—although you’d argue that his presence was the obstruction as it is of how distracted you feel whenever he was around you years ago. It’s like you never learned how to accommodate his presence because he happened to fill every space with just his body even if he wasn’t that tall.

“I thought I’d pay a visit. Your brother gave me your address.” He says, finally turning his head to face you, and its still blank like every expression you remember made towards you. You expected nothing more or nothing less than the way he stares you over and makes you feel like the outsider in your own home.

“Yoongi …” You grit, cursing your brother mentally and hoping he’d make use of that stupid sibling telepathy power he claims he has to receive your gripe.

You clear your throat as you awkwardly shuffle closer towards the couch and hover awkwardly by the arm of the sofa to keep your distance. It’s been years and it’s still a little unfamiliar to see Jimin right in front of you, and not someone you kept at the back of your mind.

“You could’ve called …” You say softly while fiddling with your thumbs. Jimin just raises an eyebrow at you and you feel stupid for saying that already.

Some things don’t change and it’s proven when your heart still beats the same when he’s around you. You cursed at yourself for being weak-willed because you thought time would help you get over your silly crush on Jimin but you also long acknowledged the fact that it wasn’t just a crush. It was more.

You hated falling for the cliches of crushing on your brother’s best friend, especially one that was just emotionally reserved and detached ninety percent of the time. The only conversations you remember having with Jimin were the ones that you were blushing at him when he looked at you a little longer than usual, or when he drove you to and from school when Yoongi left for university.

But then he disappeared, without saying goodbye and you only found out from his parents that he got into a dance program abroad and packed his things and left. Obviously, twenty-year-old you was devastated because you somehow convinced yourself that he enjoyed your presence even if he was huffing and puffing every five minutes when you’d fall into a ramble of your own.

He changed his number and he wasn’t a social media person so you had no idea what he was doing or how he was, besides the occasional mention of his name in conversations you had with your brother. It sucked. Majorly. Because you really liked him even if he was cold because you knew that Jimin was a good person. A cold and shitty person wouldn’t pat you on your head before your wisdom teeth extraction and mumble it’s okay if he wasn’t kind.

“The place is nice.” He ignores your statement and glances around your apartment and you feel smaller. You do feel a little relieved that he approved of the place, and you did spend hours browsing through catalogues and going through roommates until you decided that this was perfect. Granted, it was a little pricey but you valued comfort and a decent workplace to really get you motivated.

“Thank you.” You mumble, still shifting on the balls of your feet and Jimin just raises an eyebrow at your impersonal stance. You know he wouldn’t point it out because he wasn’t that kind of guy, but his face often spoke for him so you swallowed all the concerns you had and took a seat at the edge of the sofa, as far away from him as possible.

“Do you live alone?” He asks. You’re about to respond but he doesn’t let you.

“It’s dangerous if you do. Do you really just answer the door for anyone without checking who it is? You’ll get yourself into some serious trouble if you aren’t careful.” He chides you.

You want to scoff at him because you were an adult and you’ve learnt a few things along the road to adulthood. Jimin was always a little on edge most of the time and you knew he was just bad at expressing his emotions so you never faulted him for it. But now, you were a little older and not as naive—but unfortunately still very much into him.

“God Jimin, it’s fine—”

The door opens and both your heads immediately turn to the source, and Jimin is sharp with his movements and you try to not allow your heart to flutter when he tugs you closer to him and hides your body with his own as if he thought it was an intruder. But you knew better, so you knew it was—

“Tae. You’re back early.” You greet your roommate who only eyes the man on the couch who has you situated behind him like he was your personal shield. His bag is tugged over his shoulder and you see a few of his art supplies threatening to fall out so you hop off the couch to help him with his belongings, and Jimin’s gaze just burns harder onto the back of your skull.

When you’re close enough, Taehyung leans in and gives a brief glance over at Jimin who is still piercing him with a fierce gaze.

“Why is your booty call staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens?” Taehyung whisper yells and you glare at him, pinching his hip because just because he thought he was being quiet didn’t mean that he could easily get rid of his naturally loud voice.

“That is not my booty call!” You respond equally as agitated, “That’s … Jimin.”

Taehyung’s eyes bulge out of his socket when he looks over your shoulder once more to still see Jimin glaring at the two of you.

“Why is he so fucking scary? You said he was nice!” Taehyung hisses.

“He is nice!” You weakly defend, “He’s just … scary looking?”

You know it doesn’t convince Taehyung because he’s sighing and dropping his belongings to the floor, offering Jimin as sincere of a smile as he can muster even though you’re fully aware that he’s terrified of the man on your living room couch.

“Hi! I didn’t know _____ was having guests over. I’m Taehyung.” He smiles brightly at said guest but Jimin just blinks at his cordiality and then looks over to you.

“Is he your boyfriend?” The question throws you off guard and you can tell that Taehyung even more terrified when Jimin completely ignores his presence even though he was the tallest person in the room.

You splutter for a response even if the answer to that was obvious. But Jimin had a shitty way of interrogating people, even if it probably would work in legal settings because he was just terrifying enough for you to stumble over your words and make you look guiltier than you were.

“Unfortunately not.” Taehyung thinks he’s saving you when he lightly jokes with Jimin. And you want to facepalm because Jimin was aloof and impartial to everything, and had horrible skills of reading the room because you were sure that Jimin thought that Taehyung wanted to get in your pants.

“Tae, would you excuse us for a second?” You smile stiffly at Taehyung who is quick to oblige as he darts into his room.

Jimin now has his arms folded across his chest in a manner that makes him look more hostile, but you knew him well enough that you suppose he just had a lot of questions.

“Did you really have to be like that?” You ask irritably as Jimin scoffs at you.

“Please, do enlighten me. All I did was ask you a simple question, which you couldn’t even answer. What was that about?” Jimin responds equally as displeased but you had so many questions and you didn’t need to deal with his mini tantrum right now, especially between the walls of your own home.

“Don’t turn this on me! You turned up to my house unannounced after three years of no contact and you expect me to bend at your will? What do you take me for? A puppet?” You retaliate with petulancy and you can tell Jimin is slowly getting more annoyed by the second but won’t blow up just yet. Or probably because you had another person in the house.

“Am I not allowed to visit?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.

You scoff at his audacity because Jimin was seriously so bad at reading emotions. You weren’t even sure why you liked him but your heart never made reasonable decisions for you.

“We haven’t spoken in years, Jimin!” You throw your hands in the air, “I didn’t even know where you were or what you were doing because you disappeared like you were running away from a crime!”

“Did I need to update you on my whereabouts?” You know his question is genuine even though it was posed a little rough and you want to pull at your hair because obviously, you wanted to know! Jimin was the person you spent the most time with, outside of school, and one day he wasn’t anymore.

“Of course! I thought we were—I thought … why did you just disappear?” For some reason, it was hard to say that you and Jimin were friends either because the only reason why he’d ever tolerate you in the first place was that he was a good friend to Yoongi and you were just someone that came with it by association. He never outwardly said that he hated spending time with you but he never said he enjoyed it either.

Jimin raises an eyebrow and stands up, and you notice that he still towers over you. He walks towards you slowly, and you feel all the hotter under his intense scrutiny that you just want to retreat to your bedroom and forget this ever happened.

“You don’t need to know.” He says and you feel yourself deflate, “I wanted to visit because your brother’s worried about you.”

The confession just annoys you because you knew to a certain extent that Jimin wouldn’t be here from … wherever he was … if it was only for your brother. He had to give a shit somewhere deep down in him enough to make an effort to get your address from your brother, then turn up on your doorstep unannounced with his usual impassioned stare.

“Oh fuck off, will you? I’m not a little girl anymore. I can take care of myself.” You bite back.

Jimin shoots you an unimpressed stare at your snappishness and he won't lie and say that he was pleasantly surprised to see you after a long time. You were always pretty, in an unconventional way, he supposes. You never made an effort to look nice but just did with the way you approached life, even when you were younger. But now that you were standing in front of him with a bite that you didn't have when he left, he's intrigued.

"You weren't so rude before I left." He smirks at you.

His gaze also makes you burn and you avoid his eyes when it searches for yours. You hate that his tone makes you feel funny and that you wanted him to be a little mean.

"Yeah, well—that's what happens when you don't see someone after three years with no contact or notice. They change. They get a little annoyed because someone is just too emotionally constipated to ever make any effort to keep in touch." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Why are you throwing a hissy fit? Needed me to keep you company?" He prompts.

You flush but still glare at him.

"Whatever, Jimin. I just would've appreciated it if you called. Or at least have done something to let me know that you were alive." You mutter.

Somehow, he's managed to cage you in with his body against the back of the sofa, and your breath hitches when you feel his broad chest pressed on yours. You didn't realise it happened until he places his arms by your side, effectively leaving you with no room to leave. You gulp because this is the closest you've ever been to Jimin and you feel dizzy. He smells fresh like laundry and flowers. It's a huge juxtaposition to his demeanour, but he smells good and you want to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck.

"Why would I? You're Yoongi's sister. Not my girlfriend." He smirks.

You huff and roll your eyes. The reminder stings a little and you know he's baiting you.

"So? Were we not at least friends?" You snap.

He wants to laugh because you're obviously annoyed at the casual way he referred to you as Yoongi's little sister. You're frowning but attempting to pretend that it didn't bother you.

Jimin would be lying if he said he was never interested. Because he was, undoubtedly so. But back then when you were still navigating your way at the beginning of adulthood with Yoongi constantly breathing down his neck, he would have never done anything to compromise his friendship with your brother; or lead you on. But now you were standing in front of him, soft and sweet with a little edge to you that draws him in.

"Do you usually have crushes on your friends?" He pushes.

Your eyes widen and snap up to look at his teasing expression. His smirk is apparent against the rest of his face and you feel absolutely mortified that he's so close to you when he called you out.

"W-What? A crush? I didn't have a crush on you!" You rebuff him with a stuttery voice and you weakly try to push him away.

But he locks you in position with his hands around your wrist as he leans down and crowds you further with his presence.

"You didn't?" He feigns hurt, then he pulls away abruptly and you're immediately chasing his warmth, "Shame. I would've liked that a lot."

You gape at him when he shuffles away, putting some distance between the two of you as he dusts his hands on his slacks, giving you a curt smile; one that never reached his eyes but that was still Jimin being friendly.

"Y-You what ...?" You squeak.

Jimin shrugs and walks towards your door and you're half-terrified and half-relieved at the prospect of him leaving. But you're more terrified because you don't know if you'll ever see him again and with your current interaction you don't think you'll ever get over him.

"Usually a cute girl crushing on me would be a huge ego boost ... but you didn't, so ..." He trails off.

You bite your lips as you play with your hands. You know he's teasing you and you didn't know when he's gotten so forward, or good at this game. But you suppose Jimin has always been charming too, even if he was bad at emotions. He was good at playing them. And the way he rakes his eyes over your body only to bite his lip makes you burn in want.

He's about to turn the knob of your door but you reach out to grab his wrist before your mind can tell you it's a bad idea.

"W-What if I ... what if I ..." You mumble, hands wrapped loosely around his wrist as he turns around, leaning against the door the way boys do that was super hot for no reason.

"Speak up, bunny."

The nickname only makes you blush harder because it reminded you of all the times he's ever called you that stupid childhood nickname that somehow followed you up until adulthood. But you had to admit the way that Jimin uses it makes you feel ...warm. Like you want him to call you bunny for whatever reason he does so.

"WhatifIdid ...?" You mutter quickly and softly that Jimin leans in to get a better listen, also prompting you to speak louder.

"Couldn't hear you." He sing-songs.

You grit your teeth and swallow your pride because even after three years, you were soft and pliant for Park Jimin even if he was hot to the touch. You just wanted to please him.

"What if I did?" You say a little louder, braver, with determined eyes, "What if I did have a crush on you?"

He grins at you in Jimin fashion that was still a little reserved but warm because you knew him. You knew that was what he wanted to hear. So, he rests his body against the door and gestures his finger in a come-hither motion to get you to step closer, which you oblige. It should've been offensive that he could summon you so easily, but Jimin was a lot of things but he would never take advantage of your passiveness.

"I don't know. What would you have done if I hadn't left? Play friends? Family maybe?" He teases.

You scrunch your nose at the prospect of playing family with him because you've heard that phrase way too many times. Your parents at one point kept on saying how you had two older brothers instead of one because Jimin was always there, but they were blissfully unaware of your crush and the way you'd frown at the suggestion.

"We would've hung out more ..." You mumble.

Jimin snorts but cocks his head for you to continue.

"What's the point of this?" You huff, shutting your eyes when you can feel his gaze on you.

"You tell me. You were the one with the crush."

You want to correct him and say am the one with the crush, but you bite your tongue.

"You're the one who wants to know." You respond with indignation.

He chuckles, low and deep before he tilts your chin upwards with his index finger.

"You're still a little girl, aren't you ______?" You think it's the first time Jimin has called your name the entire time he's been here and you almost whine with the sultry look he's giving you.

Jimin applauds his self-control because you were a sight to behold. Even if you were in sweats and a tank, with your glasses drooping slightly down your nose and tangled hair, you still were so appealing even if you didn't know. You looked comfortable, homey and it did make Jimin burn with an ugly monster to know that 'Tae' could see you like this daily.

"Am not." You growl, but he only thinks you look like an angry bunny.

"You are. You don't know how to ask for things, hm?" He hums, tracing a finger up your jaw to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I so do know how to ask for things that I want. I do it all the time." You retort petulantly like you had a point to prove but Jimin only chuckles darkly.

"Then what do you want right now?"

Jimin's question is expected but it also throws you off-guard.

"R-Right n-now?" You stutter.

He tuts as if he expected your bewildered and shocked expression.

"When else but now, bunny?" He whispers as his gaze has you locked in a trance when your eyes dart to his lips when he drags his tongue over it. You're entrapped in him because his mouth suddenly looked really inviting.

"I really wanna ..." You mumble, ears flushing a pretty shade of red and you lean into Jimin's hand when he cradles your cheek gently.

Jimin was capable of being gentle, even though he chose not to. But he never was, though there was something about you that made his territorial, made him want to fight. He didn't know when he started feeling this way but he supposed it was a flurry of emotions and the accumulation of the times he's spent with you throughout the years. Three years didn't do him justice and only made him think of you more. He knew he was hard to read, and frankly even harder to understand. Jimin also knew that you were fully aware of this fact. But that didn't deter you in trying to get to know him, to prick yourself against all his edges that were harder to accept.

You were sweet and naive, a type of person that Jimin would usually scoff at. But your one-dimensional and idealistic view of the world was fresh to him, even if that meant you were living in your head most of the time. It never took away from the fact that you were kind and understanding. The type of person that cracked all of Jimin's harshness made him want to try.

But it didn't mean he wasn't going to have his fun. He liked seeing you like this, gentle and warm, close to him as you look at him with a hazy expression.

"Wanna do what?" He prods, reaching his hand to the back of your hair to tug your face closer to his, but maintaining enough distance to prompt you to make the first move.

Jimin would do it. But he wanted to be sure that you wanted this, and not the idea of him. Sure, he was giving you hints and nudging you, but he also was aware of the fact that you'd never say or do anything that you didn't want. You were always clear-cut about this type of thing.

"You know ... that ... thing ..." You mumble, shifting on your feet as he glances down to your face.

You still looked unsure, but you leaned into his hold regardless, and Jimin took that as a good sign. You just need a little push.

"You know I'm not that bright. You need to tell me, bunny." He says gently.

You can't stop the small whimper in the back of your throat at the nickname and it's taking everything in Jimin's willpower to not take you against this wall. He would, but you deserved sweet things and he wanted to try be that for you.

"I ... I wanna ..." You whisper, "Wanna ... kiss you."

You clutch his t-shirt in his hands and when you glance up he's grinning widely as if he's won the lottery.

He nods his head ever so softly, and you take that as a cue to lean in.

When you do kiss him, you already feel your knees buckling because it's like everything you dreamed and more. Jimin was the right amount of assertive and gentle that makes you chase his mouth even if you were pressed up against him. He takes the lead eventually when his hand cups your jaw to angle your mouth deeper into his, and your body flush against his.

You feel like a teenager again having your first kiss, but it may as well be because you've always wondered what it was like to share your first kiss with Jimin back in high school.

"Is that all?" He whispers against your lips, but before you can respond—

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry!" You hear Taehyung squeak and that makes you pull away from Jimin, highly embarrassed to be caught making out with him against your door like a horny teenager.

You want to curse at Taehyung but he's already ducking into the kitchen before you can get any words out.

Jimin doesn't look affected, if anything, he looks pleased. The moment you shared a clear testament of who you belonged to and Jimin loved the fact of people knowing it was him.

When you look at Jimin, you're equally parts flushed from the kiss but giddy too. You give him a shy smile, and Jimin just chuckles lowly at your bashfulness.

"I'll see you around, ______," Jimin smirks at you when he reaches for the doorknob to leave. You follow him out, wanting a little more privacy even if it was in the hallway of your apartment complex.

When Jimin steps out and with you behind him, you swing on your feet as he observes your next actions. You clear your throat, even though you were confused and glad—because that was the closest thing you could get from Jimin that was affection so you'd take it.

"So ... what does this ..." You mumble, before shaking your head.

Jimin raises an eyebrow.

"What did I say about asking for what you want?" He berates you as if he was speaking to a child, but his tone is still curt and a little detached, but very like Jimin. You know that it's him and you like that anyways.

"Don't make me say it ... it's already embarrassing as it is ..." You whine, burying your head into his t-shirt.

Jimin welcomes the sudden closeness and pats you softly on the head. It's a little stiff because he still isn't used to physical affection that wasn't 'intimate', but he did say he would try for you.

"Again: I'm not that bright." He teases.

You roll your eyes, but then bite your lips when you see he's waiting for a response.

"... what does this mean for us?" You ask softly.

Jimin smiles at you and decides to grant you a gentle kiss to your forehead. A kiss that was so domestic and soft that you feel your heart soar.

"Check your phone." Is all he says when he waves you goodbye, as you stare at him dumbly, heart still fluttering and cheeks burning.

When you return back into your home, you lean against your door as you press a hand to your chest to feel the way your heart beats rapidly against it. You feel weak in the knees but so blissful that you let out a squeal into the palm of your hands.

Once you've calmed down, and offered Taehyung a look that said you'll explain later—you rush to check your phone, only to smile at what lies on the screen.

Unknown Number [17:21]: hi bunny

Unknown Number [17:21]: save my contact

Unknown Number [17:21]: make sure that when people see it they'll know you're mine

Unknown Number [17:22]: see you soon

Unknown Number [17:22]: if you're still a little slow ... it's jimin

Unknown Number [17:25]: ❤️

You notice the heart emoji was sent a few minutes after the rest of his texts, which showed you that he may have contemplated whether or not to send it. You feel your heart flutter, as you plop back onto your bed, a wide grin splaying on your face.

extra scene

"I'm sorry ... what?" Yoongi chokes on the piece of meat he just shoved into his mouth as he stares at his best friend in the face as if he'd grown another head. But as usual, he seemed to only attract people that were vastly similar to him, and Jimin's face is unreadable as ever. But Yoongi knows he's serious and not fucking around because he's looking intently at the older boy for a response.

"So?" Jimin says casually, leaning into his seat and Yoongi needs to chug down a glass of water to ensure that the food goes down all the way before he can say anything to the question Jimin just posed him with.

"You want my sister's address ... to ... I'm sorry, correct me if I'm wrong but I had a fall and I may have a concussion so I don't know if I'm hearing things right," Yoongi deadpans but Jimin just rolls his eyes at the older one's dramatics before nodding his head for him to continue.

"You want her address to ... confess to her?" Yoongi says hesitantly and Jimin nods his head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

But it wasn't. Because as long as Yoongi's known Jimin, he's been all detached and broody, uninterested in everything and everyone. He's never shown the slightest interest in anyone and usually opted for casual hookups than actual relationships so clearly, Yoongi is a little skeptical.

"Are you okay?" Yoongi asks baffled.

Jimin nods, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yes. I went for a medical check-up that day and my doctor said he's never seen results as impeccable as mine." Jimin says blandly.

Yoongi scoffs.

"You're just not ... the dating type, you know? Much less ... with my sister?" It sounds weird to even Yoongi's ears. He grew out of his childish mindset and had no problem with Jimin dating you, but it was still weird to see his best friend showing interest in you.

"I like her. And I respect you. Which is why I came to you before I did anything."

Yoongi gapes at his best friend, who looks much softer than he usually does.

"Wow ... I just ..." Yoongi exhales, "Damn."

Jimin offers a small smile before gesturing to their food.

"At least we can really be brothers now." Yoongi jokes, sliding a piece of paper with your address on it to Jimin.

Jimin smiles fondly at the paper before tucking it into his shirt jacket.

The image of you in white, smiling and looking only at him drives him to see you the next day.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

This Is Still Marvel, Right?

Summary- 2.5k Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes x Wade Wilson x You. Deadpool the character from the comics is sitting across from the table from you, real right in front of your eyes. Not only is time travel a thing, but dimension travel is as well, and he is here for a very serious reason. Warnings- swears. Written for @what-is-your-backupplan-today​ CATFA 10th Anniversary Challenge. Prompts are highlighted. 

Masterlist

“You came from where?” Sam questioned with a tilt of his head, arms folded across his chest as he raised a quizzical brow at the man in all red. 

“And why the clown suit?” Bucky right next to him asked, trying to make sense of what was going on. 

“I’m from the X-Men verse, you know… bald dude in the wheelchair, Wolvie with butter knife hands, we have our own pigeon boy. Not as sweet as your wings though.” Wade said with a sigh. “And we had a Peter, but the winds… god the winds were too strong. I will never forget you Sugar Bear.” He sobbed in his hand a moment, sniffling a moment. 

You were thoroughly in shock, your jaw was dropped to the floor as Wade mother fucking Wilson sat in the interrogation chair, one leg crossed over the other, his ankle jiggling as he leaned forward on his elbows, planting his chin in his palms as he made an cooing sound at the two men. “Aww, they are so cute when they are confused, aren't they cute? The cutest little puppies.” He went to boop Bucky's nose, but Bucky reared his head back away from his hand and a whir of his hand closed around Wade's wrist, which caused the masked mercenary to gasp out excitedly. 

“THE WINTER SOLDIER ARM, VIBRANIUM UPGRADE. I keep telling Cable he needs this hook up, his isn't nearly as cool as yours. Mister Bucky Barnes Sir, can you sign my suit? I’m a super fan.” the white eyes of his mask widened and you finally managed to close your mouth watching all this.

Whatever this was, you were actually wondering if you weren't in some drugged hallucination right now. Mission gone wrong? You had eaten that turkey sandwich out of the compound fridge, maybe it was drugged and this was someone's payback for stealing their food.

“Come on man.” Sam snapped out, still trying to get a straight answer out of him. Bucky let go of his hand which Wade muttered to himself. 

“I'm never washing this hand, not ever.” He cradled it to his chest. “Just wait till I tell Chrome Dome who shook my hand.” 

“ANSWERS!” Bucky yelled out and Wade gasped at the outburst. Bucky reached over to grasp the mask and yanked it off, grimacing as Wade's appearance showed. Both Sam and Bucky recovered quite quickly, you were still freaking out in the corner and Wade gave a suggestive wink to the two of them. 

“Names Wilson, Wade Wilson. No relation to this saucy stud though.” He eyed Sam up and down with a purr, who scoffed at the sudden attention. “Don't worry, I know that one is crushing on you hard. The chemistry. I won't make a move on you. Winter Soldier though is fair game, eh?” He made a chef’s kiss motion after pointing at you. “So are you two… do you… fondue?” Wade asked, Sam and You looked at each other and made disbelieving faces at one another. “Oh we're not admitting feelings? My bad. I jumped ahead in the comics. So much sexual tension.” Making a donut shape with one hand and a pointer with the other, meshing them together, you could feel your throat close up and Sam’s eyes widen. Bucky was struggling to keep his calm at this point, Sam too. Wade made a motion to stand and get up. 

“Do we have any eats here?” He puts his hand on the handle to open the door and a knife flung through the air, landing right next to his face. Wade paused and turned around. “Here I thought this was still Marvel and not Dc. Tony would have offered me a snack by now.” He grumbled while sitting back down. “A falafel, blueberries, I know he likes to snack, I've seen the movies.” 

You finally got over your shock and went to sit across from him. “Mr.Wilson…” 

He put up a hand. “Pool please, Deadpool. Or Wade. Or you can call me Captain Deadpool. Too much?” He glanced up at Sam and Bucky. “Yea too much, just call me Wade.” 

“Wade.” you started again, trying to figure out how to approach this. “We’re confused, because you are a comic book character.” You pulled up your phone and pulled up a screen clip of his movie. 

Wade gasped and grabbed at your phone, studying it. “Look at that handsome son of a bitch. I'm so glad they picked Ryan Reynolds for the part, he looks just like me.” He held the phone up next to his face. “He’s so good looking, it's the Canadian genes.” Then handed it back, you tucked it away and he leaned forward to toss what looked like a beat up comic book on the table.

“What’s this?” You question, pointing at it.

“A comic book. You guys are just comic book characters and I'm here to fix your story. What? You seriously didn't know you are comic book characters in another universe?” 

“Our story?” You pulled the comic towards you and sure enough plastered on the front was Sam in his Falcon Suit, Bucky with his own gear and you were soaring in the air above slightly out of focus. 

“Yes, your story. Listen Cable, you all know Cable right? He's like a moodier you Buckaroo…” The name caused Bucky to growl a bit, but Wade continued without noticing. “... hooked me up with this cool device. Not like those stones you all have, this is some actual batman kind of future fuckery that I got rigged to not just travel back in time. But other dimensions. Whoo... “ He made wiggly fingers. “It's like magic right? Cool.” 

You were flipping through the pages as fast as possible, skimming the storyline. Amazingly all of it was there, the mission report Nick Fury brought Sam this morning, you and Bucky sparring and how he pinned you against the mat, the heart to heart about how you two missed Steve. 

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose while Bucky looked over your shoulder at the comic book. “I'm getting a headache, or I'm losing it. Did I get hit in the head?” Sam rambled a bit and you got to the end of the comic, seeing that the mission Fury had given you three was completed, successfully. 

“Says there we did just fine.” Bucky said and you closed it before pushing it towards the center of the table. 

“It's not all just fine.” Wade threw up his hands in exasperation and you shook your head so confused. 

“Explain it to us Wade.” You grasped the comic again, flipping through it, scanning the pages as quick as you can. 

“Go to page 53.” He tapped his finger against the steel table and you did, the panel showing you and Sam standing on a roof top about to enter a building from above and Bucky was shown in another panel scaling a building. 

“I don't see it…” you shook your head confused as to what he was talking about and Wade pointed at the bottom, that was just barely in view. A hot dog cart. 

“You are here, from another dimension of life… because of a hot dog cart?” 

Wade nodded firmly. “If we don't protect that hot dog cart, bad things will happen.” His voice lowered, turning shifty. “Spooky stuff… anal stuff.” He shuddered and sat back, staring at the hot dog cart in the bottom of the picture. “If we don't protect that hot dog cart, it causes issues you couldn't even fathom. Another life just poof… what did y’all call it? Spanked out of existence?”

You just automatically corrected him. “Snapped.”

“Spanked sounds better, maybe consider changing it to spanked?” 

Sam cleared his throat. “You traveled through dimensions to get here so we could save a hot dog cart? I'm just- trying to keep it all straight. This isn't entirely the weirdest thing I have heard, but it's close.” 

Bucky scoffed. “I say this guy needs some help, maybe his brain got scrambled like mine.” 

“Nah, I didn't get the mind trip you did. I was tortured by a guy named Francis.” Wade snorted gleefully. “Called himself Ajax, like the dish soap!” Slapping his knee, he busted out laughing heavily, starting to cry. 

You rubbed at your face and looked over your shoulder. “I think we should trust him guys. What if what he says is true? We’ve dealt with crazy shit before.” 

“You can't be serious Y/N.” Bucky shook his head and Sam looked doubtful. Wade giggled as he wiped a tear from his eye, pointing a finger at you. 

“I like you, you're the smart one here I can tell.” 

You all turned to Sam who hadn't said anything yet. He sighed and rubbed at his face a bit, before finally saying under his breath. “I'm never going to hear the end of this… Lets take him.” 

Wade did a fist pump in victory, leaping up to grab his mask back from Bucky. “X-Force Ass-” You were quick to cover his mouth, leaving the “-emble” garbled. 

“He's going to get us killed, Wilson.” 

“I said to call me Deadpool or Captain Deadpool.” 

“I WAS TALKING TO HIM!” Bucky jerked his thumb at Sam, gritting his teeth while he yanked open the door and left the room. Deadpool followed after him, the next thing you heard was Bucky hollar. “I'm going to kick your ass Prick.” 

“Will you? You're making me all excited. Like a fairy making a little girl's wishes come true, I feel like I could fly.” 

Then you and Sam heard something loud crack and Wade’s cooing grew fainter. “Nice boots, Tinkerbell!” 

You snatched the comic book and stuffed it in your back pocket. “Uh we probably better go stop Bucky. It's pointless for him to try to kill Wade and will just tire himself out.” 

Sam opened the door, holding it open for you. “Should we really take that away from him?” 

“True and it sounds like Wade is having himself a fan moment anyways and doesn't care.” You stepped out to see Bucky and Wade tangled together wrestling.

Just as the comic stated, You and Sam were able to go in from the top. You could see Bucky below you using rigging to scale the building. Down further below you could see a red dot pushing a hot dog cart down the street well out of harm. Speaking into the comm’s, your wings folded to pull you into a spiral, spinning towards the roof. “Wade’s got the cart moved, and were clear to enter.” 

There was a grunt in the comms and Bucky's voice crackled through. “Well damn, I'm glad the hot dog cart is safe… for reasons spanning an entire dimension that we still don't know.” 

“Who are we to question it, Bucky? I mean, we’ve seen some pretty strange shit.” You stated as Sam landed next to you, shooting at the door and ducking inside together. “Maybe this is just another one to add to the pile.” 

Silence descended on the group as you each made to fulfill the mission. Once the building was clear and the three of you were working on exiting, Wade was waiting on the roof, sitting on the edge eating a hot dog and had three more lined up next to him. “I brought you all lunch, you guys do that sort of thing right? Good Mission? yes I bet. Buckaroo has the happy murder gleam in his eyes.” He took another bite of his hot dog and chewed while studying Bucky closely. 

“Don't do that.” Bucky shuddered a bit and Wade proceeded to pop the last bite into his mouth and chewed slowly while rolling the bottom half of his mask down. 

“Do what Buckaroo?” 

“Stare at me or call me Buckaroo.” 

“While eating a hot dog? Only way to properly eat one. I know you love it James. Well my mission here is done.” He pushed off the ledge to give you a hug and handed you a manilla envelope. “This is for you, it explains everything. Toodleloo Kiddies, it was fun knowing you. Oh and if you see Hugh Jackman on the street, tell him his coffee sucks and bitch slap the prick.” He jumped back on the ledge and looked over the edge. “Oh this is gonna kill my knees but this is a true superhero moment. Wait for it…” He gave you all a salute and stepped over, plummeting down. Sam and Bucky rushed the edge, looking over. 

You knew better, a superhero landing wouldn't kill him. 

“NAILED IT!” you three barely heard, then in a flash of sparks, Deadpool was gone. 

“I thought for sure he was going to pancake down there.” Bucky said with a hint of sadness and Sam shook his head. 

“We gotta get out of here before we're caught and get this back to Fury.” Sam held up a chip that held the actual intel of the mission. 

You silently agreed and together the three of you made your way off the building and back home. 

Afterwards once you were back in the tower and changing out of your suit, you glanced at the manilla envelope Wade left you. 

Sitting down on the bench, you opened it and peeked in. What looked like another comic book was in there as well as a letter. Pulling out the letter, you scanned it. 

~To the Super Duper Trio, 

Thank you for believing me. It was crucial. We're not the only comic book verse out there living our lives. Sometimes they cross intersect in ways that I can't explain, go find the wizard, he can tell you more about it. Also ask him to your next party, because he can do the COOLEST TRICKS. But if you take out the comic book enclosed you will see on page 23 there is a hot dog cart as well as a familiar looking dork named Jake Jensen. Alias- Capt Jensen. 

Perhaps your Captain is alive in some way, the DC universe having changed him to a loveable, cat hating, Petunias loving, super smart idiot.

Tell Birdman thanks for the vote of confidence, caw caw mother fucker.

Tell Buckaroo he forgot to sign my suit, I will be back. He is my favorite after all. 

And what I wanna tell you is take care of those idiots so they dont kill each other. 

With Love, 

Captain Deadpool

Ps- Yes Cap’s as awkward with women in DC as he was in Marvel. 

Pss- Welcome to X-Force! I will be in touch. 

You pulled out the comic book and glanced at the cover seeing six people staring down, the title of the comic- The Losers. Flipping to the page, you found a photograph tucked in between the pages, showing another version of the page. One where the street looked demolished and a man lying crumbled by a cart. Also a familiar hot dog cart leaned on its side, demolished. 

Setting the picture aside, now you glanced over this panel to see the same man making a show of pulling out a crossbow, the bubble above his head with the words “That’s right, bitches, I got a crossbow!” 

The scene didn't really surprise you that much, more like the character now alive in the comic looked just like Steve. 

A thinner version, he had facial hair, and the entire get up was never anything Steve would have willingly worn. 

But it looked just like Steve Rogers and for the second time that day your jaw dropped. 

Maybe Wade Wilson was right, after all… 

Nothing was off limits and stranger things have happened.

[scripts4dreamers]

And Stuff

AN: When you decided on a life of academia, you’d never expected to meet someone like Spencer Reid 

Characters: Spencer Reid Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

------------------

You hated this stupid paper, you really really did. You stared blankly at your screen, reading and rereading the same two paragraphs in the vain hope that something would stick, but it was all gibberish.

“Hey, there’s my favorite PhD student,” a familiar voice called, collapsing into the seat beside you, “coffee?”

“Please,” you sighed gratefully, wrapping your hands around the disposable cup and taking a deep sip. It was perfect, just warm enough to shock some life back into you, “I owe you one, Prof. Reid.”

Spencer wrinkled his nose distastefully, and you laughed.

“I told you I hate that,” he said.

“And we both know that’s a lie,” you teased back, “you love being called Professor.”

“By my students,” he admitted, “not by you. How’s the thesis outline coming along?”

You sighed, “it’s not.”

“Can I take a look?” Spencer asked, reaching out towards you.

“Noooooo way,” you said, closing your laptop quickly, “not until it’s done.”

“But, Y/N-“

“No, Spence! It’s terrible.”

Spencer stuck his tongue out at you but didn’t press the issue as he pulled a stack of unmarked essays out of his satchel. You and Spencer had met a few years ago, when you’d both started a BA in philosophy. It was your third undergraduate degree, but like Spencer’s hundredth, and you’d bonded over your love of academia almost instantly. By now, meeting in one of the common areas to study and work together was almost a ritual, twice a week at least, every week of the semester. You loved it, you relied on it really. Without Spencer you were sure you’d have lost your mind years ago.

Spencer couldn’t always stay long, after all he was still a hot shot FBI agent, but even just the little bit of time you did have together was like a breath of fresh air. You both looked forward to the chance to talk about something other than your jobs for once.

“I’m sure it’s not, Y/N/N,” Spencer assured.

“Mhhm,” you said unconvincingly, “what about you? Did you get your epistemology paper in on time?”

“Oh yeah. I’m not sure anything I wrote technically qualifies as an argument, but it’s done.” Spencer replied, his eyes tracing the papers in front of him at lightning speed and marking as he went

You could see the signs of exhaustion on his face and your stomach pinched with concern. Spencer was a genius, you knew that better than anyone, but even he wasn’t immune to the stresses of university life. He was always burning the candle at both ends, taking on more than any reasonable person could ever hope to accomplish, and that was before he started teaching an intro to criminology class. It worried you.

“Spence?”

He looked up, his eyes still glassy and faraway, the hint of a smile on his lips, “Mmhmm?”

You frowned, “Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

Spencer nodded, “Did you know that some studies have shown that an adult man can actually survive on as little as two hours of sleep a night without showing outwards signs of exhaustion?” He rambled, gesturing at nothing with his hands, “Sleep deprivation will, of course, affect your mental capabilities over time, but the amount of time that process actually takes is fairly individual. In my case-“ he looked over, noticed you raising your eyebrows at him, and laughed, obviously realising just how tired he was. “Yeah I’m a little tired,” he admitted, “it’s just been a long week that’s all. I was up for a few days for a case,,” he nudged your shoulder with his, “you know if you took me up on my offer I’d probably have more time to sleep.”

“Me? Join the FBI?” You scoffed, shaking your head, “No way. I’ve never even held a gun.”

“Neither had I before I joined.”

“Yeah but you’re-“ you gestured in his general direction, “you know.”

“I’m what?”

“You know,” you huffed, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment, “strong. And brave. And stuff.”

Spencer laughed but he looked pleased with himself nonetheless, “you think I’m strong and brave?”

“And stuff,” you clarified, “I’m an academic. I’m perfectly happy in a dark room with my dusty books and manuscripts, thank you very much.”

Spencer nodded, stealing a sip of your coffee and grimacing at the taste, “is there any sugar in this at all?”

“You tell me,” You answered, “you bought it.”

“Well there’s obviously not enough, you can still taste the actual coffee,” he said, just as his phone started to beep frantically.

Spencer took it out of his pocket and frowned at the screen. Your heart sunk a little but, when Spencer looked up at you apologetically, you shot him a small smile.

“Duty calls,” you said simply.

Spencer nodded, packing his stack of papers back into his satchel, “I’m sorry, Y/N/N. I’ll see you back here on Friday?”

“Sure,” you agreed, “if you’re back by then.”

“And you’ll send me your thesis outline when you’re finished with it?”

“Of course.”

Spencer wrapped one arm around your shoulder, giving you a quick hug, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Enjoy your day.”

“Good luck, Professor,” you smiled, waving him off, “and thanks for the coffee!”

He waved back at you, half jogging and already on the phone as he vanished into the incoming crowds. You watched him go, sighing sadly as you turned back to your unfinished outline.

“Okay, Y/N, you can do this. Spencer’s written like three of these, let’s go.” You muttered, “The psychological implications of linguistic progression, think.”

You threw yourself back into your research, losing yourself in the methodical nature of your work. The coffee next to you got cold.

————————

Spencer was flushed by the time he made it into the office, his cheeks hurting with the effort of suppressing his smile. Time with you always did that to him, no matter how drained he was when he first arrived.

You were like a ray of sunshine on an otherwise very gloomy day, and ten minutes with you was better for his mental health than a whole weekend’s worth of sleep. You were sweet, and funny, and you let him ramble about whatever he wanted to and even pretended to listen. Meeting you for coffee every week had become more than an act of friendship, it was an act of self care, a thin thread holding what was left of his sanity together.

His phone chimed and he smiled down at the message, a picture of you sipping your coffee and giving the cameras a big thumbs up:

Go kick some bad guy ass, Wise Guy!

He started typing up a reply but, before he could, someone interrupted.

“Good date, Pretty Boy?” Morgan greeted.

“It’s not a date, Morgan, you know that,” Spencer replied, fondly, “it’s just coffee with a friend.”

“Oh yeah it’s totally not a date, just a biweekly coffee hangout with someone you’ve been in love with since forever.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he smiled.

“But it did go well, then?” He retorted with a knowing smile.

Spencer smiled and nodded, “She thinks I’m strong and brave and stuff.”

“And stuff?”

“And stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Prentiss interjected.

Spencer froze, “I don’t know, I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Does she know you’re not dating?” Prentiss asked.

“What? Yes of course! Or-maybe? I don’t know we haven’t exactly talked about it.” Spencer replied.

“No, she doesn’t know,” Morgan clarified.

Spencer opened his mouth to argue but, before he could, Garcia cut in.

“Okay my little geniuses, it’s a weird one today. Let’s get briefed,” Garcia called.

“When do we get to meet her?” Prentiss whispered as they took their seats.

“Never,” Spencer replied.

Emily pouted, “you’re no fun.”

Spencer smiled but, as the briefing went on and the picture of their newest case got clearer and clearer, so did something else; they couldn’t do this alone. They needed help, very very specific help. His heart sunk. As they headed to the jet, Spencer pulled out his phone, wishing to God he didn’t have to.

“Hey, Y/N, remember how you said you owed me one?”

—————————-

This had to be some sort of nightmare, you thought to yourself as you stepped off the jet. When Spencer had first called you, you’d laughed, told him to stop joking around and tell you what he actually wanted but, as it turned out, he was serious. They had a case, he’d said, one that required a certain set of expertise, one that only you had. And you couldn’t really say no could you? Not to Spencer.

And now you’d solved it. It was over. Your hands were shaking and you’d never been this tired in your life, but it was over. You felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped.

“Hey, it’s alright, kid,” Derek Morgan assured you, “you’re okay.”

You nodded, even though it wasn’t a question and gave him a small smile.

“I know.”

Derek nodded, his dark eyes boring into you in that way only members of the BAU could, like they were looking into you and not at you, so you tried to look brave.

“You did good work on this case,” Derek said, walking back to the building with you, “without you I’m not sure we would’ve caught the guy.”

You shook your head, “Spen-Reid would have figured it out eventually.”

Derek pressed his lips together, “Probably, but even he said it would’ve taken him days to reconstruct the language from scratch, even without adding the psychology behind it. In that time who knows how many people our UnSub would have been able to get.”

You looked over your shoulder to where Spencer was standing at the base of the jet’s stairs, looking everywhere but at you. He’d been acting distant for a while now, ever since Hotch had decided to strap you into a bulletproof vest and send you in to talk a maniac off a ledge. The UnSub had been having some sort of psychotic break, he’d forgotten how to speak English and communicated exclusively in a language he’d created himself, a combination of several that pointed to details about his personal life. It was fascinating, in the worst way possible, a real life application of the theory you’d been working on for years. It would make your thesis a piece of cake to finish.

The thought made you feel nauseous.

“Is he-“ you asked Derek, pressing your lips together nervously, “is he angry at me or something?”

He frowned, “Reid? No. He’s crazy about you, he looks forward to those coffee dates with you every week for days.”

You flushed, “They're not dates, Derek.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he replied, sarcastically, “slip of the tongue.” He ruffled your hair fondly, “Go on, talk to him, I’ll call you a cab when you’re done.”

You nodded and hung back, letting Derek’s hulking form vanish into the FBI building as you made your way slowly back toward the jet. Spencer was staring up at the moon, looking pensive and beautiful and painfully sad.

“Hey, there’s my favorite profiler,” you greeted gently, “you alright?”

“Hey,” he replied, still looking up at the moon, “why didn’t you go inside with everyone else?”

“I was waiting for you,” you explained, “I wanted to see if you’re okay.”

“If I’m okay?” He laughed incredulously, meeting your eye, “Y/N, I’m out here because I’m trying to figure out what I could possibly say to make up for what I just put you through.” He explained, “This...this stuff-it’s my world, not yours. I should never have brought you into it.”

“Spencer you needed me, your team needed an expert and, no offense, but your social circle isn’t big enough to have two experts in linguistic psychology.” You teased gently.

Spencer chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest.

You stepped forward, resting a hand gently on his bicep, “You made the right decision, Spence. I’m glad you called, I’m-“ you paused, “I’m glad you let me help you.”

Spencer snorted, “And it nearly got you killed.”

“It didn’t nearly get me killed-“

“Yes. It did,” he insisted, “the UnSub was psychotic, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have killed you on sight. Hotch should never have let you-I should never have let you go in there.”

“But I wanted to and I’m fine. The case is over, Spence, we’re in the clear.” You assured him, “Things can go back to normal now.”

“No, they can’t!” Spencer practically shouted, turning to face you, his eyes red and puffy. You instinctively stepped back and Spencer pressed his lips together, looking guilty, “Y/N, I-knowing you were in danger and that there was nothing I could do about it...it killed me. You were never meant to know about any of this, you were meant to be safe! I was meant to keep you safe!” He explained, running a hand through his hair, “You were the one thing in my life that this stuff couldn’t touch and now-“ he breathed, “now everytime you look at me you’re gonna think about this, and him, and everything I put you through and-“ he met your eye, “and things will be weird and you’ll stop wanting to talk to me. Things won’t be the same, Y/N.”

You flushed and stepped forward, “You're worried that I’m not gonna talk to you anymore?” You asked. Spencer didn’t answer, but the way he avoided your eye and worked his jaw seemed like answer enough, “Spence,” you smiled, “you’re like...my favorite person in the world. This stuff,” you gestured around, “what you do, it doesn’t change that. In fact I think it’s kind of incredible. You guys tracked down a serial killer based on nothing but some muddled letters, who does that?” You laughed.

Spencer didn’t respond, but the edges of his lips twitched, like he wanted to smile. You watched him for a moment, the way he held his head, the way his eyes darted up to yours. He was just as beautiful as he’d always been, but there was something more now. He was vulnerable, you realized, really vulnerable for the first time since you’d known him. No matter what he said, Spencer was reaching out to you.

“Your world is messed up, Spencer,” you continued, stepping forward and taking his hand, “but you aren’t. We aren’t, and I’m glad I got to be there when you needed me. We’re good, okay?”

“Do you promise?” He asked, his voice small.

You squeezed his hand, “I promise.”

Spencer nodded, squeezing back, and let you slowly pull him back towards the FBI building.

“Besides,” you continued, “you still owe me a look at my thesis.”

Spencer snorted, “That’ll literally take me 3 seconds.”

“Show off.”

“What? It’s true.” He laughed.

You suddenly realized that Spencer was still holding your hand and, when he saw you looking and tried to pull away, you held on tighter. Spencer smiled nervously, and you felt a rush of something warm and promising flow through you.

“Hey, Y/N?” He started nervously.

“Yes, Spencer?”

“Are we dating?” He asked.

“After today? We’d better be. I’m expecting at least a dinner after almost getting shot for you.” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“That’s so not funny,” Spencer replied, but he was smiling when he said it.

“It’s a little bit funny.”

“Fine,” Spencer agreed, stopping in his tracks and pulling you towards him, “it’s a little bit funny.”

And that’s when he pulled you in, cupping your face with his hands and pressing his lips to yours. Just like that, the weariness of the day melted away, disappearing into a kiss that tasted like burnt coffee and sugar and the best champagne you’d ever had. Spencer was strong and sure. He kissed you like it was the only chance he’d ever get, like he wanted to burn the memory of you into that brilliant mind of his forever. When you broke apart it felt like the earth had shifted beneath you and you stared at one another, breathless and smiling like teenagers caught making out beneath the bleachers.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed, “yeah you definitely owe me dinner.”

“Woohoo!” Morgan cheered.

“Ooooo, Y/N and Reid sitting in a tree,” Prentiss sang, “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

“Go get ‘em, Lover Boy,” Garcia joined in.

Spencer laughed, letting his head fall down onto your shoulder, humming when you threaded your finger through his hair.

“Can we-um-can we maybe continue this at a later date?” Spencer asked, “Like maybe at dinner? Or,” he checked his watch, “breakfast, maybe?”

You looked back at Spencer’s team and felt, with a sudden rush of clarity, that you were looking at a group of people who would soon be staples of your life.

“Let’s go get coffee with the others,” you answered, “and then after that,” you tilted his head up and kissed him softly, “you can take me to breakfast.”

taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​ 

[camslightstories]

Tolerate it - Part 5

Lena Luthor x reader, Kara Danvers x reader, Alex Danvers x reader. Baby Danvers.

Notes: I’m so sorry! I haven't updated in the last couple days, they have been erratic, I have been so much homework and my family is not the easiest. I apologize for it. But the good thing is that I wrote two chapter in less than 24 hours, and the next one would be up tomorrow. 

I hope you guys enjoy it, and if you have any feedback, comment or request, I will accepted gladly. I know my writing isn't the best but I hope you guys like it. I’m also going to repost my favorite stories from other writers and I will be asking for request, so if you have one just hit me up. Have a great day, guys!

Taglist: @multi-images

Continuation 

Tears running down through your cheeks, and raindrops hitting your body, as you walked through the streets of National City. The rainstorm seems to get worse, and you didn't notice. You walked slowly as millions of questions invaded your head.

Since the moment you walked out of the apartment, your mind went blank as everything that had happened seconds before came back to you. You were soaked in rain, and every time a thunder would make their presence known you would flinch. The lights of the cars were the only thing that illuminated the streets as you walked with the smell of the wet ground. 

With every single question and doubt, a memory would cross your mind. Your first date. Your first kiss. Your first sleepover. Your first Gala. Your first morning together. Your first time. Your first Christmas. Your first Anniversary. Your first day after moving in. All of it.  

Your clouded mind tried to make sense of the situation. Fears and insecurities crashing into you as you tried to gather your thoughts, trying to get Lena out of your head. But you couldn't, you didn't want to admit it, but you didn't want to. 

Lena was the person who brings out the best of you, Lena who with a soft smile would have you happily cheering the whole day. Lena who was in every step of the way when you failed in every possible way. Lena who will hug you protectively at night making you sleep as peaceful as you ever could. Lena who shared her home with you after 1 year and a half of dating. Lena who made all your insecurities go away. Lena who received every present you gave her even if it wasn't at her status. Lena who made you feel saved and loved after so long. 

Lena who became your everything. Lena who became the light of your life. Lena who you would wait hours even though you were tired just to see her. Lena who made you become a morning person, so you could just make her coffee as she gets ready for work so you could see her smile before leaving. Lena who would be running up and down through your head at every second of the day. 

Lena who somehow fixed you without you even noticing, and now without noticing broke you beyond repair again. You had felt so lost when you lost your dad, you thought that was going to be the worst moment and feeling of your life. But little did you know that when the love of your life, loves someone else and you choose to leave for her to be happy was going to be your downfall. 

Weren't you enough?

Was Kara always the one she wanted?

Was all of it a temporal fill for her?

Was all of the loving and caring a facade?

Were you ever not gonna be enough for anything?

Why would this happen to you?

Weren't you broken enough?

Why did the universe decide that this was your life?

As the thoughts kept your head running you found yourself staring at your job place. It was quiet and dark, lights were off and all of the stores except for the bar downstreet were closed. You went through the back door leaning into it, trying to calm yourself down, even though it was not possible. All you could feel was pain and not a pain that with some pills was going to go away. 

You walked inside and noticed that somehow the silence and the darkness of the place had taunted you for so long, but you didn't recognize it. That feeling of scariness you didn't recognize for a long time. 

For a moment you opened the phone in your hand, tears rolling down the screen as you did. The Danvers Christmas photo with Lena, Maggie, and Jonn was in the background, all of you smiling like a family. You couldn't help to feel selfish when the only wish you had was to keep your relationship with Lena. But you knew you couldn’t, you knew the moment you decide to be selfish the happiness and the well being of the most important people for you would be at risk.

You lifted your glance from your phone, finding paper and pens in which you annotated the customized orders. You remembered how when you were kids and Kara had just arrived on Earth, you guys watched Harry Potter making you and Kara complete nerds for it. You guys decided to write each other letters to communicate, and since Kara was still learning English it worked great. After a few years, Alex became part of the writing, so it became a thing until Alex and Kara both left for college.

You grabbed the pen with trembling hands, shaky breath, and soft salted tears coming from your eyes. You stared at the paper as you cleaned your tearful eyes. You wrote for each one of them, and as you kept going, each one would get harder.

The pain runned through your veins until you had finally fallen asleep in one of the chairs. Soaked in rain, and makeup stains under your eyes and cheeks. Your breathing had become erratic the moment you walked out of the apartment. Whimpering as you slept on the chair.

The sunlight came through the window of the bakery. The sound of the door opening and closing woke you up. The noise frightened you. The scare made you fall to the floor, hitting your head and shoulder first. 

You said but were interrupted when the voice of your boss called you out. Rubbing your temples as you now felt the pain coming back.“Freaking-” 

“Danvers? What are you doing here?” JJ said as she heard your complaint. Her tone was somewhat cold and worried. 

You looked up to see your boss, staring right back at you. With judging eyes, examining every single part of your face. The bags under your eyes, the ruined makeup that runned through your cheeks. The way your eyes were red and looked exhausted from crying. You looked so broken, exhausted, crushed, lost. You looked like a little girl who had just lost everything in her life.

“I knew that Luthor would leave you like this, she is just as bad-” She claimed as she rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

You interrupted, yelling. You felt your blood boiled, Lena was everything to you, and you wouldn't let anyone talk badly about her. Especially if they are comparing to her family, that line nobody should cross, Lena was good, strong, and so many things, that not even the world deserved her. “Don't you dare to talk about Lena like that!”

“Danvers! Open your eyes, look at you!” She exclaimed as she waved her hand pointing at you. 

You murmured, as you got up and tried to clean your clothes only to find them still wet the night before. “I’m fine”

The brunette looked at you in misbelief, before she commented, walking closer to you.“No, you are not, you are a broken little girl lost because you trusted a Luthor”

“Lena is not like her family!” You exclaimed as you furrowed your eyes. Thoughts came into your mind, saying your boss was right. Lena had done the same thing Barry, Lucy and you Dad did. 

“Yes, she is! She fits into the Luthor family profile perfectly-” She said, snapping you out of your thoughts, 

“She is everything good in this world. And I will not let you speak of ger like that!” You yelled as you slammed both of your hands on the table, with irritation before pointing your finger at her threatly.

After a few seconds of both of you losing your cool, JJ pinched her nose, before looking at you madly. “Okay then, did you sleep here?”

“I'm gonna take that as a yes, and without any further you are fired, get out of my bakery” You kept quiet, and avoided her glance in irritance. She looked at you and scoffed

“JJ? Please come on-” You resonated but the brunette just shocked her head before pointing at the door.

“You broke the contract, you slept in the workplace, and most importantly you are not in shape working here, Danvers” She responded with a cold voice.

“You can't be serious” You shake your head with a sad smile, joking. You couldn't lose it, not after you lost everything.

“I am and leave before I call the police” You looked at her in disbelief, as the last straw of the cup came out.

You walked out of the bakery with tears. Cleaning them with your sleeves as you entered the jewelry shop. You have visited millions of times, with hope and happiness in your chest.

“Hello, Mr. Rogers,” You said as you walked inside, seeing the old man in the chair reading the newspaper. 

“Good morning, Y/N. A beautiful morning isn't it?” He responded as he got up to hug you. 

Mr. Rogers had become somehow a therapist during the last two years, you would come into the jewelry shop and ramble about your day after paying a part for the ring you were fancying for Lena.

You murmured as you pulled away, putting on your best facade. “Yeah”

The nickname, Mr. Rogers had put on you after you came with Maggie to help her with their wedding rings, and made a sad smile on your face.  “How can I help you, baby Danvers?

You avoided his glance for a few seconds, before looking him in the eye, as you felt your eyes grow tired and wet.“Mr. Rogers, I want to return the ring” 

“Are you sure? Y/N, you've been paying this ring for two years now, and all the money will take me at least two days to return it to you” The man spoke as he looked at you worried. 

You commented, your voice breaking at the middle of the sentence.“Yes I'm sure, Mr. Rogers, please just give all the money to the orphanage”

“Miss. Y/N-” The old man noticed and went to speak up. But you interrupted him cleaning your tears and taking a deep breath.

You said cutting him off, trying to evade the conversation. “Please don't, Mr. Rogers. Please don't”

  “Can you give these to my Alex, the next time you see her?” The old man hugged you, of pity and worries. And you started to walk away before you put 5 letters on the counter giving him the best facade you could.

He responded nodding, putting the letters behind the register.“Yes, as you wish Y/N” 

“Goodbye, Mr. Rogers. Thank you for everything” You concluded before walking out of the store, as tears began to flow freely. The feeling of everything slipping away remained and became stronger. You felt lost, broken, numb, without anything or anyone.

The walk to your and Lena’s shared penthouse, well now Lena’s penthouse felt longer than it already was. Your mind and heart with throbbed pain, that felt any never-ending. You walked through the streets with your head down, since every time you would lookup. You would see something that would remind you of Lena.

Your heart ached as you waited outside of the Penthouse building. Mr. Smith waited in the car, as Lena came down to go to LCorp as any other day. Dressed in the green shirt of your first date, black heels, a black skirt, and a perfectly done ponytail. You watched as she looked like nothing had happened.

Your heartaches, as she looks normal. Like if nothing had affected her. Tears began to come out, so you walked to the inside parking of the building, and entered it by the garage door. 

The only light on the apartment was in the kitchen. The cold air of the penthouse occupied the penthouse. The silence was the only thing that could be heard. 

The penthouse was perfectly decorated for you and Lena. There were photos of the two of you hanging around, photos with the superfriends, and with your mom and sisters. There wasn't much color in the apartment it still felt like home. Blankets and Pillows on the couch hanging for comfort.

Pain and memories flowed into you, as you walked through the penthouse. Every Single Part of the apartment had space in your memory. You walked slowly to where the pictures were hung, and each one in where you stood took them away. The moment you went to remove the picture of your’s and Lena’s anniversary, everything came crashing down.

This time, it felt heavier, it felt stronger, it felt real. Your heartache was slowly consuming you from the inside out. It felt like a never stopping pain. It felt like an avalanche of emotions, angriness, emptiness, heartbreak, sadness. It felt surreal, you couldn't even make out the events of last night, neither less your feelings. 

As the time passed your doubts, and insecurities crowded your mind as you worked your way into collecting your things. And somehow in the makeup for excuses for Kara and Lena, you worked extremely well. Taking only the things that strictly belonged to you. 

Boxes slowly began to crowd the living room, and your bottling feelings began to count down when you noticed there wasn't anything else to pack. Pain caught your throat, and tears invaded your eyes, as the last boxes were closed. 

You glanced around the penthouse when you felt your breathing getting heavier, and the wall closing in. But there wasn't anything that could help you, there was only pain, in every inch of the place. 

You slide down the wall of the kitchen as the feelings sunk in. Tears flowed out of your eyes and small nonsense of crying would come out of your mouth. You let them flow in, you let them destroy you, you let them cause pain. You couldn't do anything, not because you weren't capable, but because you couldn't hurt your own family. 

Avalanches of emotions came and went away in the question of minutes, and somewhere around the way, you had found yourself the courage to face reality. To get up and do the right thing. 

Your phone rang the moment the UBER was downstairs waiting for you. You closed your eyes, gaining all of the courage you had, to close the door and walk away. 

With now a change of casual clothes, you walked inside LCorp and found Jess as fast as you could, without seeing your ex-girlfriend. The brunette young woman looked at you with a smile, before she spoke up. “Miss Y/N, Miss Luthor is available”

“I'm not here to see, Lena. Jess” You said as you walked to her desk with a yellow envelope, in which the keys of the penthouse were. 

The Latine woman, looked at you confused before she commented “Then how can I be of your assistance, Miss Danvers?”

With a sad smile, you responded. Avoiding her glance.“Please don't call me Miss Danvers Jess, feels like I'm Kara or my mom”

You took a second to gather the courage, before putting the envelope on her desk, taking a deep breath.“Also, I'm just here to give you this, so you could give it to Lena”

“I hope you the best, Jess” The Brunette caught your meaning and the situation. Putting dots together when she saw the small tear coming from your eye, as you tried to keep up with your posture. She nodded and let you go without any other explanation.

Walking out of the LCorp building was harder than you thought, the feeling of regret and heartbreak began to creep out of your chest, as you felt the tears coming out. You were leaving for them, so they could be happy, and they could be okay. And you would do it all over again. 

Crowded streets, sunlighted days, food overwhelm, the technology used, and superheroes capes, was what made National City. And even when you experience the most bearable moments of the city, you never once saw it fall down. Thanks to a lot of good people, including Lena Luthor and Kara Zor-El, and they deserved each other, and you couldn't get in the way of that. 

Some places feel at home temporarily. But the truth is that home can be anything. A place, a memory, a thing, a person. Sooner or later we find our way home. But for various reasons, you don't feel like you would find a home. Not even a light out of the tunnel that the universe has put on your way. 

[yostresswritinggirl]

Scholars’ Chit Chat Submission

Cyno x Reader (actually platonic, in a way I guess, study partners, but possibly romantic in the future)

*Lore dump warning; Spoilers for all the Archon Quests and speculations of Teyvat; Really it’s all serious talk

XXX

“Hey Cyno,”

The said male turned away from the book he was reading, and focused his attention on you instead.

“What’s the matter?”

“Do you believe in eternity?”

Surprised at your sudden question, the male went quiet for a few moments.

“You want my own opinion or an objective one?”

“As much as I would like to hear both, it’s almost lunch time. So I would like to hear your opinion first.”

Sighing at your carefree reply, Cyno closed the book he was reading shut.

“Well, I simply don’t. After all, all living things will come to an end, it is the law of the universe and the reason why they say time is money.”

“Well yeah, I mean, our former archon did die five hundred years ago...”

Puzzled at your deflated mood, Cyno realised that this question didn’t simply popped out of your mind, but rather something that you had been thinking hard about for quite some time.

“Why’d you ask, by the way? You worried about the future?”

“It’s normal to be worried or even sacred okay? This is the very reason why we seek knowledge in the first place. To survive is the natural instinct of humans, and curiosity stems out of it as we can predict the future with more known about the world...”

“And yet the world is so vast, and our lives are so short, but we can pass down our knowledge through our legacy... That is the most basic right of humanity...”

“Yet don’t you think that it is strange? The fact that it has been thousands are even more years that we humans had been existed, there isn’t much we know about the pre-archon war era?”

Cyno looked down as he realised what you said was true.

“Indeed, but there isn’t much we can do about it isn’t there?”

“That’s the problem!! Nobody questions about it and that’s what makes it fishy!”

You are... Quite the special type of student at Sumeru Academia, even though you do seek knowledge about the world you all reside in. Due to the lack of Mysticism studies you didn’t take part in, you were the type to question everything, even the principles that had been decided by the Academia for centuries.

But that’s what allows your breakthroughs in your findings in the past few years here. Rather than focusing on a particular study or field, you tackle anything that comes in your way. Becoming one of the people who had read the most books in this grand library of Sumeru Academia.

Cyno liked that part of you, new perspectives shed more light to the field and it never gets boring when you suddenly throw questions at him for no absolute reason.

“The part where you go ‘seeing is believing’ is the easiest way to deceive someone?” He guessed, letting out a small chuckle.

“Exactly!! ‘Show not tell’, because people believe in what they see so when they try to deceive someone they show what they want them to see.”

“Illusions, mirages... People get tricked so easily without asking their own rationality!”

“So what you’re trying to say is-“

“That we should question this world in the first place!”

‘Here we go again...’ Cyno thought, but he didn’t actually mind your rambling.

“First! Why do we have to trust the gods in the first place? *All we can do is observe the chess game that the gods are playing, we don’t know the rules of the game, but as soon as we speculate it long enough, we’ll be able to guess what the rules are.”

“But in the end, we won’t know if we understand all of the rules cause who can predict what happens in the future anyways?”

“But with Astrology-“

“Do. not. interrupt me.”

Ah, you were getting heated up.

“With enough information, anyone can predict the future, they say. But can we actually do it? We can’t! We’re human after all.”

“Which leads to the question of, why don’t the gods spill the beans if the really care about us so much? But they didn’t.”

“I know it’s hypocritical to judge gods through mortal standards, but I have evidence.”

“If the gods truly care for each single human being of Teyvat, then shouldn’t everyone have a Vision if they’re supposed to be the grace from the gods?”

“You’re saying that those without Visions are not important in the eyes of the gods?”

“Hah, as much as I prefer that they care for both, my instincts tell me that they don’t care for either of them for some reason...”

Cyno narrowed his eyes at your slightly hesitant answer.

“Is this about you not able to obtain a Vision for yourself?”

“Cyno, how many times have I told you? If I were to receive a Vision, I would have went all the way to the archon responsible and politely give it back to them.”

“Politely?”

“Alright, maybe throwing it in their faces before telling them off that I don’t need it.”

“Violent as always, my dear.”

“Elemental energy is not magic anyways, we all know that, and the Hexenzirkel doesn’t often share their findings about Irminsul either...”

“Your point is…?”

“What’s ’free’ is the most expensive, even hilichurls are a problem for normal humans, yet Vision holders see them as eyesores more than anything… Everything comes with a price, Cyno, and I believe that you understand that well.”

“Indeed,” he agreed with a sigh. “For knowledge, we sacrifice time and our energy for it. And the culmination of many scholars forms this very library we are in.”

“The crystallisation of human knowledge, or so I recalled,” you agreed with a huff “but what if that’s the gods want us to believe in? Away from their true purposes in order to keep humanity under the reigns?”

“…”

“You angry? Sorry, I know that it’s disrespectful to judge on people’s faith like this, but I just can’t help but worry about the future when something big is about to happen…”

“N-no, I don’t mind, it’s just-“

“Explaining is concealing and concealing is the truth, go on.”

Cyno realised something, despite you knowing he has a Vision himself, you had come up with theories about the secrets about Visions, mostly concerning ones actually. But he understands it is a way of you caring for him, there are rumours about those who have Visions would one day disappear from the world.

You were scared that one day he would go somewhere that you cannot follow.

But as your partner, he has no intentions of it until you finally seek the answers you had longed for.

“The Geo Archon’s passing, Mondstadt’s Knights of Favonius incapable of fully stopping the Fatui, the electro Archon Baal stopped giving out Electro Visions since last year… Not to mention the Fatui following the Tsarista’s orders by any method of sort…” Cyno listed out. “Yes… It is all quite alarming…”

“But that promise we made the day we met, I have no intention of breaking it.”he reminded with a soft smile on his face.

“I am, your partner in crime after all.”

…

“Here you are again, saying things like that so easily…” you huffed, trying to contain your happiness from his words.

“Until the day I make the gods confess their intentions, I’m not letting you go anywhere without me!”

Seeing you back in your normal mood, the male smiled in relief, all that’s left is to lift your spirits up a bit more.

“I’ll treat you something sweet for lunch, what do you want?”

“W-Wha?! Umm…”

Seeing you flustered at his sudden question, Cyno knows that he had succeeded as you mumble under your breath about what you should pick.

‘Don’t worry too much about the future, try focus on what we have right now, alright?’

‘We are raging treason against the very laws of this world after all, so please allow me to enjoy such little time with you, my dear.’

XXX

I don’t know what I’m writing… QAQ

Exiled, if you want I can make a few more short dribbles about this (well mostly about how they meet and other stuff they think about-)

-lies on ground-

-and dies out of embarrassment-

-snowdrop, out

ANY CYNO CONTENT IS GOOD CONTENT, BUT THAT LORE DUMP WAS NICE AND REFRESHING. YES SNOWDROP, I DO WANT EM GIMME

[6sakusa]

‘8 hours’ part 3, suna rintarō.

part 2

warnings : pregnancy, mentions of abortion.

“congratulations, you’re pregnant.” the doctor announced with a smitten smile but her face faltered as she realised your lack of reaction, your face was stiff and the way your eyes were glossing over it was obvious that you were doing your absolute best to hold back your tears. she glanced over to your neighbor akari who was almost as shocked as you were, of course no one could have anticipated this but thinking back on it you realised the signs were all there. your constant nausea, your stomach pains, your fluctuation of appetite, in all honesty you cursed yourself for not knowing.

“how many months?” your eye were fixated on your hands as you fiddled around with your fingers, akari watched you with worry but didn’t say anything, she knew you were hardly processing the entire situation otherwise you would’ve burst into tears already. it wasn’t as if you were overly sensitive but she could tell from this whole ordeal that either ; suna wouldn’t be ecstatic to raise a child with you or that the two of you had broken up. she hoped it was the latter because she would sure as hell be prepared to burst into his apartment and demand him to own up to his responsibilities.

she had never necessarily been on good terms with your ex-boyfriend, the first time she’d met him was when she’d walked in on the two of you making out on your couch after she’d popped into your apartment to ‘borrow’ some sugar. the whole situation was the epitome of awkwardness, she froze when she realised what was going on, her brown orbs locked onto his green ones right before he proclaimed “there’s a weird brunette chick going into your kitchen.” before you turned to see akira you heard her voice as she responded “nice hookup y/n” with a smirk. and of course suna was offended that she had referred to him as a mere one night stand, the next twenty minutes was spent watching the two of them fling insults at each other as you watched in amusement. thinking back on it, if akira had told her self that you’d be here, in this situation now, she would have never believed it, but alas, life was full of unpredictability and at any time it was ready to slap you in the face.

“a month...” the doctor muttered out, voice fading towards the end, it was obvious that she had caught wind of the atmosphere engulfing the waiting room, no one seemed pleased about this situation and now it felt out of place to use the word ‘congratulations’. she shot you a sympathetic look before desperately excusing herself and retreating back to her duties, of course that wasn’t before slipping in a customary “feel free to come to me if you have any questions, ask for doctor ito.”

as the minutes passed akira let out a soft sigh catching your attention and in that moment you realised the severity of the situation. how were you meant to look after an entire child? you were just a mere university student with no stable income, and the money you did earn was only enough to keep yourself afloat. you were most definitely not ready to be a mom, were you even cut out for it? the last thing you wanted was to run back to your parents and ask them for money considering you never had the best relationship with them, especially your mother who was the reason you were so excited to leave home and go off to university in the first place.

“what am i gonna do?” you buried your head in your hands allowing the tears to finally roll out, never in your life did you think you’d be this careless, and to make matters worse you and suna had broken up two weeks ago, the picture perfect family ideal you always had in your head since young was shattered.

“do you want to keep it?” akira asked nervously causing your head to snap towards her “what? w-what are you saying?” you worded between sobs, your hands furiously wiping away at your eyes.

“well you know… abortion is always an option, you don’t have to do this to yourself y/n, not if you don’t want to.” she studied your face to gauge your reaction and immediately she could tell that it was off the table. she broke eye-contact with you, a sudden interest in the bland walls arising as she averted her eyes to them.

“i can’t.” you bit down on your lip at the thought of it. “i’m going to keep it, i can drop out of university maybe? i can look for a job - yes i’ll look for a job a-and i’ll pay off my student debt later, and i’ll move to a smaller place with lower rent so i can have enough money to keep us afloat, i can-“ akira placed her hand over yours at your rambling, it was a successful attempt to snap you out of it. it was clear that you were in the midst of a nervous breakdown and the last thing she wanted was you making decisions when you weren’t in the right state of mind.

“look, you have 8 more months to think about this, i’ll help you sort something out, the last thing you want is to be stressing.” she held a soft and caring tone that you had only identified in a few people in your life and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of calmness wave over you. it contrasted to the usual banter between the two of you, you were both often a chaotic duo who had to be under supervision half the time, you had rarely had serious conversations between the two of you even though you knew a lot about eachothers lives.

“no — i can’t ask you to look after me, you’ve been a good friend akira, this isn’t the time for me to burden you.”

“don’t say things like that, there’s a reason we call each other a friend, let’s go home and we can figure the entire situation out.” she brought her hand to your back in a comforting rhythm. maybe it was because you hadn’t been in suna’s arms for a while that you were touch starved or maybe you were just naturally drawn to the girl but you melted into her touch as she helped you to her car.

“you’ll be fine y/n, everything is going to be just fine.” you weren’t sure if you believed her but you wanted to more than anything, all you could do is have faith.

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 12 - A Little Death

Masterlist; Chapter 11

Summary: You have to help Neil get back onto his feet after the tragic news. The lack of control and overwhelming grief lead to a few revelations...

Warnings: This is quite angsty still despite mentions of comfort; excessive drinking; self-harm (only implied); swearing

Author’s Notes: Okay so the length of this is beyond me and I’m sorry. This takes place just before Neil’s departure to Mumbai, film-wise. I really hope you’ll enjoy and please let me know what you think!

P.S. The referenced song is ‘A Little Death’ by The Neighbourhood 

You did not check how long you were sat like that on the floor, cradling Neil and letting him cry and shake as though those were the only things he was capable of. Later you realised it was probably close to two hours as by the time you got up, it was nearly evening. But for those two hours, you just let him take his time. He did not speak, and you only occasionally whispered words of reassurance into his ear. You kept on drawing soothing circles into the skin of his back. After the first half-hour, you found a much-needed package of tissues and placed them in his lap. Despite his silence, you knew that your presence meant everything. And so you stayed, ignoring the rumbling in your stomach and tiredness. For the most part, you also ignored your own tears, fully aware that this was not about you, nor it should be.

Neil’s heart-wrenching sobs stopped after those two hours and were replaced with small gasps as though he was struggling for air. That is when you knew that the breakdown was past its culmination point. Slowly, you shifted so that you could look at him and gently tipped his chin. His eyes were puffy and red. The heart-breaking look he gave you was enough to nearly tip you off the edge. But you had to be strong. So you just took a deep breath and broke the silence:

“Don’t say you’re sorry for this because that’s the least I could have done for you” he nodded hesitantly upon seeing your determined gaze “I’m here for you, and I won’t make you talk about anything but sometimes it helps” you kissed him on the forehead.

When you met his gaze afterwards, you were struck by the admiration you saw there. He smiled at you slightly as though trying to convey something difficult to be expressed otherwise. You smiled back and took his hand in yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. After another beat, you got up and filled a glass of water for him. You knew well enough how something so simple is needed after crying for so long. You watched as he emptied the whole glass, placed it on the side, and took a deep breath. Then he spoke for the first time in two hours.

“I… I know that this isn’t what you’re used to from me” he shrugged helplessly.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re still someone I care about deeply” for a second you wondered why you felt like you wanted to say more.

But now was definitely not the time. So, instead, you added:

“Tell me what happened? If you’re ready, of course” you took his hand back and smiled when he entwined your fingers on reflex.

“When we arrived, he…” Neil swallowed hard “TP called us to his office and started explaining the next steps in the operation. He mentioned the bloody Mumbai and how I’m needed there tomorrow” he clenched his jaw, and you felt the tension rise.

You placed your free hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. Then you let your hand linger on the side of his neck. He sighed at your touch before resuming the story:

“Then he asked Ives to leave, and we talked a bit about everything… It was like the old days, you know” his brow furrowed “He mentioned how I’m probably his greatest friend in the whole world… How I helped him make Tenet into what it is now and how that wouldn’t be possible without my contribution” he exhaled shakily “We even talked about you” he glanced up and met your surprised look “Just about how it was seemingly fate that brought us together and how you fit in so well here, just taking everything in your stride” you smiled at the words shyly.

Even though it hurt you to know that he was not allowed the truth about your hiring. But maybe that was for the better, you mused.

“We talked like that for over an hour before he started acting strange… The things he said…” he seemed to gather words “It didn’t make much sense, but now I think I should’ve realised that he was…” he shuddered slightly “That it was supposed to be a goodbye” you saw the tears in his eyes again and shifted so that he could rest his forehead on your shoulder.

“Don’t blame yourself for not predicting what will happen. There’s no point in that” you leaned against the foot of the bed behind to be more comfortable.

“Maybe… But I felt something was wrong, so an hour after I left his quarters, I went back in” you tightened the hold on his hand, feeling the moment approach “The door was unlocked and he… he was just sat there” Neil brought his head up to look at you with teary eyes “I thought that he was fine but then… there was no pulse, and he wasn’t breathing” you felt him become breathless and gently urged him to slow down.

When he stopped hyperventilating, you let him lean on your shoulder again.

“He died alone… and I couldn’t do anything about it” you were not sure if you preferred the dejected tone or the former sobs “I was supposed to be his best friend, his partner”

“I think that he didn’t want to hurt you even more by making you watch it happen” you suggested, trying to make sense of the situation.

After the earlier text and what Neil told you begun to understand that TP intended to do it. To end his life. You just had to find a reason why.

“But I don’t understand why he did it” Neil’s voice broke through your contemplation “There was no reason to… He said himself that the plan is going well” you could hear anger creeping into his voice.

“I know… But maybe there was a reason…” you trailed off.

Neil watched you sharply, and you felt like if you said something wrong, you could risk losing him again. You had to tread softly.

“You once said that he never did things without reasons” you stumbled over the tense and frowned “And that’s the same feeling I got when I talked with him… Maybe he had to do that to avoid clashing with his former self in any way” you glanced at Neil to gauge his expression.

He was staring ahead into space with a serious look in his eyes, considering what you said.

“Is like… they mentioned during training that it would be bad if we ever came in contact with our other selves, inverted and so on” you kept on rambling, hoping it was helping somehow “So maybe he was afraid that his existence now would coincide with his younger self out there”

“There must have been better ways of dealing with that” you could tell that he was angry.

At himself. At TP. At the universe. And there was nothing you could do.

“Maybe that was all that he could think of”

You watched helplessly as he turned away from you, suddenly overcome with the emotions. You urged yourself to calm down. Maybe now was a good moment to mention the text…?

“I… I got a text message from him actually… as I was getting here in the cab” you took out your phone and gingerly offered it to him.

Neil took it without question and read over the recent message. Then you saw his eyes dart to other text conversations. But you did not mind. There was nothing to hide. He handed you back the phone without a further word. Then he got up and wandered over to one of the side cabinets.

Now that was concerning.

“Neil?” you scrambled after him and watched in horror as he hastily threw the cabinet contents onto the floor.

Finally, he found a whisky bottle hidden in the back and took a triumphant swing out of it. That sight made you shake off any paralysis you fell into. You crossed the room and snatched the bottle from him. The dark look he gave you was somewhat terrifying. He took a step closer as you took one back. Then he met your gaze challengingly as though doubting your ability to deny him anything. But this time, you were not going to give in. You shook your head and extended the gap.

“It helps with the pain” Neil shrugged helplessly.

“I know, but I think you’ve had enough for today” you gestured towards the empty bottles on the floor.

Thinking fast, you decided to act. You took out your phone and summoned Ives, asking him to come by Neil’s room in a moment. He responded instantly, evidently waiting on the news. Once that was dealt with, you went on to pick up the reminders of Neil’s state. When he saw you do that, you heard him speak:

“If you’re going to take away all the alcohol, then at least leave me the empty bottles” you turned to see an unfamiliar cynical smile “The glass might come handy” the emptiness in his eyes made the delivery worse.

You could only stare, processing the words. Suddenly everything felt too overwhelming.

“Neil…”

You stared at him pleadingly, hoping that maybe the look of panic in your eyes will help him realise what he said. You did not dare breathe until he somehow denied your worst anxieties about the situation. You watched as his face fell, then he covered it with his hands and breathed out a long exhale.

“Fuck. I’m sorry…” he stared at the floor “I didn’t mean it” he looked up at you remorsefully “I don’t know why I said that…”

“It’s okay. Just don’t ever scare me like that again” you gave him a weary smile.

Before you could say anything more, a knock on the door interrupted you. At Neil’s quizzical stare, you answered:

“Ives. I’ve asked him to come” you moved to the door, clutching all the bottles in your arms “Give me a second. And please don’t do anything stupid” you gave him a final warning look before you exited into the corridor.

Ives waited there with a worried expression on his face that seemed fixed at this point.

“Is he alright?” he asked, glancing at the door you closed.

You shuddered, thinking about the situation you just dealt with. But he need not know all that.

“He will be. For now, though…” you placed all the bottles of alcohol in his arms “Take these please and maybe get us a little something to eat from the kitchen… and tea” you tried to gather your thoughts.

“Okay” he nodded “If you need anything else, let me know”

“Thanks” you sighed, feeling the tiredness slowly descent upon your whole body.

But there was no time for that. Not yet.

“I’ll stay with him tonight” for once, Ives did not tease you about it, and you were grateful.

“His plane is at 3 pm tomorrow. Do you think that’s manageable?” he looked sceptical.

“It has to be” you smiled as Ives squeezed your shoulder reassuringly “I better go back to him. Just leave the food outside and knock on the door, please. Think it’s best if he doesn’t see anyone else tonight”

“Of course”

Without further word, you entered the room again and locked the door behind you. Neil was sat on the bed, anxiously picking at the skin around his fingernails. His hair was falling in his eyes, and he was staring at his lap, looking incredibly lost. It hurt you to see him like this. Ignoring the growing ache in your chest, you approached him slowly.

“I asked Ives to get us some food and tea because I think we both could do with that” you attempted a smile when he looked up “But before it arrives, you could shower and get changed… that could help a little”

You stood near enough to reach out and brush your fingers over his cheek tenderly. He seemed to consider your words for a moment before he leaned into your palm.

“Okay, I’ll try” you saw him hesitate before adding, “Thank you for putting up with this”

“Of course, that’s what friends are for” for some reason, the word felt wrong. And he noticed that too as you saw a small frown appear before he smiled at you and left for the bathroom.

When you heard him put the shower on, you started cleaning the room. You put away the pages that landed on the floor and made the bed. While you were smoothing the covers, your brain came up with a rather intrusive thought about how there you were, alone with Neil in his room. Again. And how that really did not fit in with the friendship story you desperately clung to. Because it was rather obvious that you would end up sharing the bed again. That was not something friends did this frequently. You did your best to shut that voice, but you could not deny the facts. So you just sighed and waited patiently for Neil to remerge.

Food arrived before he showed up, so you just set the coffee table. Once you were done, you heard the bathroom door creak. You turned to look at him and were taken aback by the casualness of his get-up. For the first time since you have met, he was not wearing suit trousers and a shirt, and instead had loose joggers and a t-shirt on. Despite the reality of the situation you found yourself in, you could not help but stare. He caught your look with a rather sheepish expression that you did not expect.

Interesting… But there was no time to dwell on it, so you just invited him to the table and encouraged him to have something from the selection Ives got you. Sometimes you would anxiously glance at him to see whether his mood has not changed for worse again. But he seemed fine; quiet and sombre but there with you, physically and mentally. And that was what mattered for the moment. So after you ate, you suggested settling in bed to rest. Neil agreed to that without any objections, giving you hope that maybe he was past his worst point.

After the initial awkwardness of the situation wore off, and you both relaxed onto the pillows, you asked:

“Should we put the tv on? Just have some music on or something…” you searched his eyes, trying not to get too conscious of the moment.

While this was certainly not the first time for you to casually share a bed, this time it somehow felt different. But you blamed that on the rollercoaster of emotions you both went through in the recent days.

“Yeah sure” Neil nodded and sent you a small smile.

This silent version of him was strange to get used to. It felt like he was holding back from you, and you were not sure whether you liked that. But there was nothing you could do apart from giving him unlimited space and time for expression should he need it. So, to provide a distraction, you put on the tv and quickly found a suitable music channel that was not blasting annoying pop songs. Silence fell on you again, as you let the music help you relax. You were not even paying attention to the exact songs played.

‘Make me feel like I am breathing Feel like I am human’

That is until you felt Neil shift, and you glanced in his direction only to meet his intense stare. The blue eyes were fixed on you with a hazy tint on the pupils. Before you could ask him anything, he moved closer. You were struck by the look of intoxication on his face. Somehow you knew that it was not due to alcohol. You felt slightly paralysed by the multitude of feelings that came then. Neil ended his scrutiny of your face to ask:

“Can I kiss you?” his voice was huskier than usual.

‘Touch me, yeah I want you to touch me there’

“Neil...” his name usually came quite handy in those speechless moments.

There were millions of reasons why you should not let him, but the look on his face and what he said next started breaking down the resolve.

“I know” he was looking at you with something close to pleading “I know this won’t fix anything, but if for at least a few seconds I can forget about this mess... then please give me that”

‘She sought death on a queen-sized bed And he had said, "Darling, your looks can kill, So now you're dead.’

He was close now. So close that all you had to do was lean in and kiss him softly. He sighed at the contact, and you brushed away the damp hair from his eyes. Then he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer with his hands on your waist. You were too lost in the moment to stop him when he urged you to lie down on the covers. Feeling your heart pound in your chest, you continued the kiss as he hovered over your body. His hands wandered until you felt him slide them underneath the fabric of your shirt. The warm, sudden touch on your bare skin acted as a warning. You gasped and broke the kiss, but not before he managed to bite on your lower lip, drawing blood. The desperate whine he let out made you open your eyes in a flash. The darkness of his eyes made you realise how close it got to the point of no return. That was enough to help you shake off the daze.

“Please, not like this” you pushed him away gently.

Your cheeks were burning as you came to realise what nearly happened. But once you met Neil’s gaze again, you could tell that he was still not quite aware of the reality. The passionate look in his eyes was replaced with something akin to begging.

“I just want to get lost in you” he murmured, still keeping his hands on the bare skin of your waist.

He ran his fingers along your sides, and you shivered. Inhaling slowly, you tried to calm down. Normally his words would have made you throw caution to the wind. But something like that could be disastrous right now.

“I don’t want it to happen like that” you pushed him off you completely and sat up, suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

“But you want it?” the hopeful tone made your insides flutter with thousands of anxious butterflies.

Fuck… Of course, he wouldn’t let it go easily.

“Ask me again when we’re both better” you hoped that you sounded surer than you felt.

You touched the split lip and wiped away the blood droplet with your thumb. That moment must have awakened something in Neil, as suddenly you heard him inhale sharply before he blurted:

“God, I’m so sorry” you looked up to see him staring at you in terror “I don’t know what overcame me… It’s not that I didn’t want to…” he was clearly struggling with whatever he wanted to say.

“It’s okay. I won’t hold you accountable for whatever happened… or almost happened” you gave him your most convincing smile despite feeling more confused than ever.

“But I… I want you to know I didn’t do that only because I’ve lost control” that was enough for you.

“Neil, it’s fine” you interrupted him “You don’t have to explain. It doesn’t matter” you forced another smile onto your face, praying he will drop the topic.

You could not even explain why it hurt so much. Maybe because you worried it was just him losing control? And that if there was someone else with him in your place, it would have happened anyway? But it felt selfish to have those thoughts after everything that happened, so you just tried to rake your brain for some other distraction. Somehow, this moment felt right to breach a topic that has been on your mind for the past few hours. Slowly, you turned to face Neil, who was evidently still pondering the situation while staring at the tv screen unseeingly. 

“Neil…” he turned to you the instant you said his name “Before I came here, Ives told me about Alex…”

The moment you mentioned the name, you could see a plethora of emotions flash in Neil’s eyes. There was shock, sadness, and worry, among others. He visibly tensed and tried to school his features before responding.

“I- I would’ve told you” he was desperately searching for the right words “There just wasn’t a good moment, and I didn’t know if you…”

“No, no. Stop right there” you interrupted him, worried by the rambling “I didn’t mention that because I want an explanation or because it hurt me in any way” you met his gaze steadily “I only wanted you to know that I’ve been told. And that if you ever wanted to talk about it, I’m here” you tried your best to convey the support and love (?) into the long look you gave him.

“But… is-is this okay? Are you okay with that?” the doubt and genuine worry in his eyes made your heart clench painfully.

You wanted to hurt whoever made him question things like that.

“Of course it’s okay. You loved and lost him, and that’s the only thing I care about” tentatively, you reached out to take his hand again “It’s a vital part of your story, and I want to know you better” you smiled, seeing him relax slightly.

“Thank you… I’ll tell you one day, I promise” he brushed his thumb along your knuckles “But I think he’d like you”

You were not expecting that.

“Yeah?” you blushed slightly, suddenly flustered.

“He used to call me out on my bullshit too… and never fell for my charm too easily” he smiled fondly.

You liked the way pleasant memories seemed to light up his whole face.

“I can see some similarities then” you grinned shyly “To be fair, you need someone to keep you from getting too cocky” experimentally, you reached out to ruffle his hair.

If his blissful smile and the way he leaned into your touch were anything to go by, he did enjoy the gesture.

“I’m not sure I deserve you” he opened his eyes and looked at you with some kind of new emotion.

But before you could find any ways of answering that, he yawned. Once, then twice. The tiredness was finally catching up with him.

“Think you should try to get some sleep” upon his silent question, you added, “I’ll stay in case you need me”

For a second you wanted to offer that you will take the sofa, but somehow you knew that was not what he would have wanted. And neither did you if you were to be honest with yourself. So you just watched as he hesitantly started shifting on the bed, trying to find the most comfortable position. You switched off the forgotten tv and the lights and slowly laid down on the pillow. In the quiet, you could hear his shallow breaths. One look in his direction was enough to help you decide. You moved closer, closing the safety gap, and carefully placed your arm on his waist. After a beat, you curled up around him, with your head resting on his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” you asked, following the tense silence.

“Yeah… It’s just that I really don’t think I deserve any of this” you could hear the apprehension creeping back into his voice.

“You deserve much more” you pressed a small kiss to his neck “But let’s start with this. Good night, Neil”

“Good night…” he hesitated but then just exhaled, letting you hug him closer to your body.

*** The peace lasted only for the first two hours. After that, you were awoken by Neil tossing nervously. Before you could properly come to your senses, he let out a few soft whimpers. Shit. You shifted so that you were hovering over him and took a long look. His brow was furrowed, jaw clenched, and he was incredibly tense. Whatever nightmare he was having, it was escalating quickly. The next thing you knew, tears were falling down his cheeks, and he was mumbling something, sounding distressed. That was enough. You cupped his cheek, as softly as you could, and leaned in close:

“It’s just a dream” you kissed him on the forehead “Wake up love” you were not sure where the endearment came from.

You leaned back to see his eyes open in a blink. His gaze was unfocused, evidently still lost in the nightmarish world. Using the hand that was cupping his face, you brushed the stray hair away from his eyes. His breaths were fast yet shallow. Knowing the experience well, you immediately kicked into action.

“Neil, listen to me” you waited until his eyes locked with yours “It was just a dream. It’s all okay now” you placed your hand on his chest over the heart “You need to calm down”

“I can’t breathe” he choked out and sat up suddenly, nearly knocking you in the head.

“You’re panicking” you shifted so you could be sat in front of him.

The fact that you nearly climbed into his lap in the process had to be ignored for the time being. You took his hand in yours and placed it in the middle of your chest so he could feel the rising and falling with every breath you took. With your other hand, you tilted his chin so that he was forced to meet your gaze. His pupils were darkened by panic and adrenaline.

“Follow my breath” you made him match your breathing for a few cycles.

Once you heard his inhales and exhales elongate and level off, you let go of the hand you kept pressed to your chest. He kept it there for a moment longer, as though making sure you were really in front of him.

“I’m sorry” the heartbroken and tired look he gave you was enough to make your heart ache “You really shouldn’t have to deal with this mess”

“It was my conscious choice, and I would never leave you alone after something like this” you leaned in closer and pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth “Now, let’s try going back to sleep, shall we?”

This time he was holding on to you as though you were the only constant thing. With his arms around you and the warmth of his body, you could almost forget about the mess you both had to face in the morning. Before drifting off to sleep, you pondered his words again. More and more, you were sure that he got it the wrong way around. It was you who did not deserve someone like him. And you were afraid he would soon realise as much once the initial crush (or whatever it was) passed. But for now, you allowed yourself peace as you relaxed into his embrace and buried your face in his chest. If by some accident, the universe decided to be on your side, you would not complain.

*** In the morning, you were both awakened by Ives calling to make sure both of you were alive and awake. You had to blame the awkwardness that followed it on that very phone call. You only managed to shake it off when you sat down to the breakfast you brought from the canteen. You passed Neil coffee in silence, cursing your inability to hold a conversation after everything. But this time, he had some solutions. As your fingers brushed, he set down the coffee cup on the table and turned to you:

“I’m sorry about everything that I did and said yesterday” he glanced at your split lip “I wasn’t in control... and I don’t want you to be scared. I’d never do anything like that normally” he shifted nervously.

You knew an apology was coming, especially after seeing the way he looked at you ever since waking up. And while, admittedly, his behaviour worried you, you did not dare to think about how your ‘almost’ made you feel.

“I know, and I won’t judge you on how you acted last night” you put on your best smile, hoping to end the topic as quickly as possible.

But it was not meant to be as he clearly thought hard on what to say next. All you could do was wait and listen.

“I know that I crossed some lines” finally, he found the right words “And while I can’t deny that I was acting on my genuine desires…” he searched your eyes to make sure you understood “I won’t do that again because I respect your wishes to keep this strictly friendly”

Was this your imagination, or did he sound like he did not want to say that? If you were honest with yourself, that was not something you wanted to hear either. But now was most definitely not the time, so you just reached out to squeeze his knee reassuringly.

“Thank you, and don’t worry about it. We’re all good” he covered your hand with his and mirrored your smile.

Maybe all this confusion was worth it? After a short beat, you took your hand away and went back to breakfast. The silence was still there, but at least it was less awkward now. When you noticed him frown at the headache that was undoubtedly bothering him, you passed a painkiller. He smiled gratefully.

“So… when is my plane?” he asked after you both cleared the plates.

You could tell that he was dreading the trip. And it hurt to know that there was no way for you to help him.

“3 o’clock” you glanced at the watch “Which gives us about five hours to get you ready” you took in his sombre expression.

“I really don’t want to go” he met your gaze with emotionless eyes “It’s so fucking cruel to have me assist whoever the fuck that guy is when my best friend just killed himself. And I don’t even know why” the anger and hurt in his voice were somehow worse today.

Maybe it was because you could not blame it on his intoxication anymore.

“I know… And wish I had any answers, but I don’t know more than you do” you could only give him an apologetic half-smile “But I know that you have to be there to help… him”

Calling the younger version TP seemed somehow wrong. And you could only imagine how it must feel for Neil, on the eve of meeting that different version of his partner. 

“He won’t even know who I am” there was a broken edge to his voice “How am I supposed to meet him and act as though he’s a stranger?”

“Alright, walk me through what you’ve been told, and I’ll try to help as best as I can”

“Sure you wouldn’t rather go back to sleep?” he eyed you sceptically “You must be tired, and it’s all my fault”

“Neil, stop” you have had enough of the self-depreciation “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’m here for you” you took his hand in yours “And I wouldn’t rest anyway without knowing you’re well. So let’s go through the plan and then I’ll help you pack”

He only gaped at you with a dazed expression on his face. You wondered how someone so incredible could ever doubt their importance so much.

*** Surprisingly you managed to get Neil ready in time for the taxi departure. Together you planned the mission, made sure he had all the necessary information and contacts and was as mentally well as he could be after everything. When the time was near, Ives knocked on his door. This time, Neil let him in. You watched as the two men embraced tightly, sharing the trauma and sadness. Ives then took a step back and eyed Neil coolly.

“You did a good job” he flashed you a smile “He looks much better than I expected”

“Would you mind?” Neil looked at you nervously, and you laughed at the brief moment of lightness.

“Must say it wasn’t easy, but I did my best” to prove a point, you wandered over to Neil and smoothed his suit jacket.

After disagreeing over the wardrobe choices you managed to convince him to take a few linen suits and shirts for the warm weather in India. Now you were proud you succeeded. To be fair he looked good in anything, but there was something more intimate in the fact that you chose his outfits. But once again, you were brought to the present moment by Ives clearing his throat:

“The taxi is leaving in half-hour. I’ll leave you two now” he gave you a knowing smile and exited the room before you could roll your eyes at him.

Realising you still had your hand on Neil’s shoulder, you took a step back. He was watching you attentively with a small smile on his face. That probably explained Ives’ allusions…

“I won’t ask if you’re ready but… are you okay?” you met his gaze.

“As much as I can be, I suppose” he shrugged dejectedly “I really wish I could stay with you instead”

You saw his hand twitch at his side and decided to choose for him by taking it into yours, naturally entwining your fingers.

“Unfortunately, this time we can’t decide for ourselves. But remember that you can call me if you need help or just to talk. Don’t worry about the time zones, I’ll always pick up” you tried your best to show how you felt through the expression in your eyes.

But that was a dangerous game as soon enough you got lost in the blue of his eyes. As always.

“Thank you” he breathed out, looking at you with such tenderness that almost made you feel faint “Still don’t think I deserve you though” he grinned shyly.

“Oh you do, and I’ll keep on saying that till you believe it” you raised your joined hands to your lips and kissed his knuckles “While I enjoy this slightly subdued version of you…”

“What?” his affronted face made you laugh.

“You know very well what I meant” you smirked and let go of his hand, only to pull him in for an embrace.

It took him only a second to hug you back, with his arms wound tightly around your waist.

“You said we should hug more often so” you whispered into his ear and enjoyed the laugh it prompted “Hope this is good enough for you” you ran a hand down his back.

Then, upon a sudden thought, you pushed your hands underneath his suit jacket and splayed them on his back, relishing the feel of his skin through the shirt fabric. The only indication that he felt the difference was a sharp gasp he let out as he drew you even closer.

“More than that” he kissed the top of your head.

After at least two minutes more, you took a step back but still kept your hands on his waist.

“Please be safe out there. Don’t do anything stupid. And…” you shut his mouth with a hand upon seeing him protest “And don’t get too drunk before the meeting. I know that it will be hard, but that could only make you more likely to fuck up”

Before you could take your palm away, he placed a peck on your wrist, near the pulse point. The voice in the back of your head kept screaming about how this definitely was not something friends do. But you told it to kindly fuck off. At least for now.

“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try” he flashed you a signature smile as though you could ever forget it “After all, I’m not the one to behave” proving the point, he brushed the pad of his thumb along your lower lip.

You inhaled sharply at the sensation. Looking questioningly into his eyes, you wondered whether he remembered about the earlier promise. But there was no time to find that out as sharp knocks interrupted you. It was time.

[pappydaddy]

Deal? (j.m.)

A/N: I recently added Outer Banks to the list of shows I write for because I am actually in love with the show. So, if you want to request for Outer Banks, send me a request but please look at the rules before doing so! 

Anyway, I am also writing a OB imagine because I want to see if people are actually seeing my posts or not. In the past, my little Outer Banks posts about JJ have gotten lots of interaction. Therefore, I am writing a JJ fic. 

Paring: JJ Maybank x Fem!reader

Show: Outer Banks

Warnings: Jealously, protectiveness, some creepy dude, some punches but nothing horrible. Some blood. 

This takes place in an alternate universe where John B Sarah don’t capsize or even get on the boat in general. Just for the sake of this imagine.

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- not my gif -

  Boneyard parties were fun, there was no doubt about that fact, but sometimes an extravagant Kook party thrown by some rich snob wanting to rebel against their perfect little shoe box life was just as fun. The Pogues especially liked them since their presence at the party always ticked the Kooks off, but they couldn’t do anything about it unless they wanted the cops to bust their party full of minors drinking and doing drugs. Since the Pogues befriending Sarah Cameron, they had an excuse to make more appearances at Kook parties. Of course, JJ couldn’t pass up an opportunity to rile up some Kooks. Especially not when he’s dating the most attractive girl on the island: Y/n L/n. Rich enough to live comfortably, but not rich enough to be in Figure Eight. 

  “Come on, Jay! It’s a pool party,” Y/n whined to her boyfriend, her hands gripping his large bicep as she shook his arm lightly. “Put the swim trunks I gave you on!” She pleaded with him. Her blonde and stubborn boyfriend simply sat on the edge of her bed, looking down at his phone as she shook his arm more violently. Many people were surprised when JJ had entered the serious, long-term relationship with the youngest (and only daughter) of the L/n family for many reasons. The main one being that he settled down in the first place. JJ Maybank didn’t seem like the type for commitment, but with their second year anniversary fast approaching - they were left with their heads spinning. The other reason was the fact that Y/n had two older and very protective brothers. Everybody was almost positive that JJ wouldn’t even get past her brothers, either they would have crushed him to a pulp or he would have thought it to be too much work for a girl. 

  “But I don’t want to get in an overcrowded pool with a bunch of Kooks.” JJ grunted, trying to type a text to John B to see if the group was almost to Y/n’s house to pick them up. Though JJ was the designated driver for the party (he drew the short straw), he still needed the van in order to cart all The Pogues home at the end of the night. Y/n groaned, plunking herself down on the bed beside him, her hands still gripping his arm. 

  “You don’t have to get in the pool! I don’t want to get in the pool either, but I am still wearing a bathing suit!” JJ looked up from his phone and gave his pouting girlfriend a look. That was the thing about their relationship, it even surprised JJ. It downright scared him when he started to have feelings for Y/n. At first, he didn’t know what had happen to make him want a relationship, but then he realized that there was just something about her. Something that made him want to spend every waking second with her, want to protect her. 

  “Why does it matter if I wear the swim trunks you bought me or not?” He asked, locking his phone and setting it on the bed beside him. She shrugged, one hand sliding down to pick play with his fingers, her eyes locked on them. They had been friends for a good year before they started dating, their feelings having come to light when the great treasure hunt ensued. That meant they could read each other decently well. Having gone through that together while their relationship was blooming into a romantic one made them more perceptive to each other. As he sat there, watching her play with his fingers, he could tell that she was bashful about the reason. 

  “Because I think you’d look really hot in them.” She mumbled, her cheeks heating up. She tucked her chin closer to her chest, wanting to make sure JJ didn’t see her red cheeks, but even without seeing her face, he knew she had the adorable redness flooding her cheeks and nose. He didn’t even try to fight the smile as he watched her try to avoid his gaze while playing it cool. 

  “Alright, if that’s what you really want, I’ll wear the trunks.” He agreed. He knew that he would have ended up putting them on before they left, not matter how much he ‘fought’ against it. She snapped her head up to look at him, her eyes wide and happy. 

  “Yay,” She celebrated with a little bounce. “Now, can I bother you for one teeny tiny favour?” She asked sweetly, taking her hand from his to pinch her pointer finger and thumb together so that they were just barely touching. JJ hummed, reaching his hand up to grab her hand back, entangling their fingers together. 

  “Any thing for you, Pretty Girl.” He nodded, rubbing his thumb across her soft skin gently. The action felt nice on her hand but also sent tingles shooting up her arm, giving her a fuzzy feeling. 

  “I need advice on my bathing suit, I put it on earlier, but now I don’t know about it,” She paused, standing up, trying to free her hand reluctantly. JJ’s hand held firm, not wanting to let her hand go until it was completely necessary. Giving up, she settled with standing between his legs as he stayed sitting. “Is it too much?” She asked nervously, popping the buttons on her high-waisted jean shorts before letting them slide down her legs. Next came the shirt, leaving her in her rather racy bathing suit. 

  “Too much of what?” JJ asked, confused since there wasn’t too much of anything. It was a bathing suit. A normal bathing suit like all of her others. 

  “Too skimpy,” She clarified, turning her head to glance at the full body mirror by the foot of her bed. “This is by far the most scandalous bathing suit I own, but Kie and Sarah convinced me to buy it last week and I don’t want to not wear it, ya know?” She rambled, inspecting it. The stringy bikini was gorgeous and totally for relaxing poolside, not for swimming. The colour of it complemented her skin, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was showing too much. 

  “Why would you even think that? You look gorgeous in it,” JJ’s eyebrows knitted together. “I don’t get where you think it’s too ‘skimpy’? I mean, it covers everything,” He questioned, his eyes scanning over his girlfriend. She looked absolutely stunning. He grabbed her other hand as it picked at the strings tying her top up. She looked down at him, her eyes meeting his captivating blue eyes. “You look amazing in it. Does it make you uncomfortable?”

  “No, I actually really like it. I feel amazing in it,” She answered quickly. “But I don’t want guys staring at me and coming up to me all night. I just want to go and have fun with you and the others, not fend guys off with a stick.” She grunted, bending her knees to sit on one of JJ’s legs, her knees poking into the other one. He let go of her hands, wrapping his arms around her waist to make sure she didn’t fall off. 

  “I get that, but you don’t have anything to worry about. I’ll be right by your side the entire night,” He reassured. “And if I’m not right by you, I won’t be anymore than ten feet away. If some asshole comes up to you, I’ll take care of him. Anything as long as you get to wear what you want to the party, deal?” His eyebrows bounced as he calmed her down. 

  “Deal, but I get to wear your shirt.” She bargained, her hands gripping his open button up. It was a nice black one, though it was ratty, it was still her favourite button up of his. He glanced down at it. She was always taking it, leaving him to snatch it back by stuffing it in his overnight bag when he left. He had just gotten it back two weeks ago when he had to wash it. He knew that her attempts of stealing it were coming, but he would have thought she’d be a little bit more subtle about it. 

  “Whatever you want, Princess.” He pressed a kiss to her lips before sliding her off his lap to stand up, grabbing the swim trunks from the bed. 

 _____________________________________________________________________

  The party certainly was in full swing. Coke was on the tables, people handing off wads of cash towards the smug guy who brought it. John B and Sarah were already sloshed and they had only been there for an hour and a half. Kie had only one beer, but was currently sharing a blunt with John B and Sarah while Pope nursed his second beer. Y/n and JJ were standing off to the side, Y/n’s back pressed against the living room wall, JJ’s hand pressed into the wall by her head. He sipped at his water bottle while she finally had her first beer of the night. She didn’t like getting intoxicated, especially not when JJ was sober. She wanted to talk to her boyfriend, not make a complete fool out of herself. 

  “Can you believe that Pope is actually drinking more than one beer tonight? I think I even saw him try a hit of the blunt.” Y/n asked JJ, proud of her uptight friend for finally letting loose. Dating Kie has been such a good thing for him, he’s gotten so much more relaxed. JJ glanced over his shoulder, still hovering over his girlfriend. 

  “’Atta boy, Pope,” He hollered over the thumping music, tossing his empty water bottle to the floor and rising his now free fist in the air to fist pump. Pope sending him a ‘Whoop’ and a fist pump back from where he sat on the fancy leather couch. “Princess, I need to go get another water bottle. You want to come with me or sit with the others?” He asked, holding her hand gently while his other one slid off the wall. 

  “You go, I’ll sit with the inebriated and keep them company.” She smiled up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. The two of them glanced over at their friend group as they laughed loudly about something. Their intoxicated minds finding the smallest things funny. 

  “If you’re sure,” JJ looked back at Y/n wanting to make sure she was completely okay with him grabbing another drink. She nodded, a wide smile on her face at his protectiveness. “Okay, I’ll be there in like five seconds, ten tops. Love you.” He rushed, bouncing out of her sight in an effort to rush back to her. She laughed, shaking her head before taking a sip of her beer. Making her way towards the group falling all over each other with laughter, she suddenly felt the weight of eyes burning into her back. 

  Glancing behind her, she didn’t see anyone staring at her. Shrugging it off, she continued her short walk, sitting down next to John B who didn’t even notice her presence yet. “Hey, Y/n, where’s JJ?” Pope asked, noticing only one half of the duo joining them. John B looked beside him, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his best friend’s girlfriend. 

  “Getting another water bottle, he’ll be here in a sec.” She told him, downing the rest of her beer, not wanting to set it down anywhere. John B slung his arm around Y/n’s shoulders, using the hand holding his own solo cup to point at her. 

  “She sleeps with my best friend, but not only does she do that, but she also makes him happy,” John B slurred, nearly poking Y/n in the face by accident. “Like, really happy - happier than I’ve ever seen him,” John B took his arm off Y/n creating big gestures with his hands as he talked. Dodging his flailing arms, Y/n smiled at his drunken sweetness. “I think that JJ might marry her someday, then everyone will know that they have sex!” John B carried on, making Y/n’s cheeks flare up. 

  “Hey, John B, Imma go get you a water, actually-” Pope paused, glancing at the group. Through he was slightly tipsy, he still knew that he needed to be more responsible for the ones who were way passed tipsy. “I’m gonna get you all a water, want one, Y/n?” He asked, knowing that she was probably in much better shape than him, but he also knew that she shouldn’t be venturing off into the crowd alone, let alone her being comfortable to do so. 

  “Sure! Thanks Pope!” She smiled, Pope returning the gesture before heading off the same direction JJ went off in. John B started to talk loudly to Sarah, the two in their conversation while Kie rattled off about Microplastics in the ocean, nobody really listening to her. A hand landing on her shoulder was odd, since JJ never walked up behind her at a party and touched her from behind, always wanting her to know that it was him and not some creep. That’s why her blood seemed to still in her body at the hand. 

  “Looks like you could use some better company.” Someone spoke, sliding into the spot next to her, his arm resting around her shoulders much like John B’s had seconds before. She glanced at him, everything about him screaming Touron, especially since he thought hitting on her would get him anywhere. Thought their relationship surprised every local, that still meant that they all knew about it. 

  “No, I’m really okay. These are my friends, also, by boyfriend and my other friend will be back in a couple of seconds, but if you’re looking for someone to talk to, there is a lot of Lacrosse players over there playing Beer Pong.” She pointed towards the herd of boys playing Beer Pong on the grand mahogany dinning table. The Touron glanced over there, his slicked back hair catching the light with the amount of gel he had in it. He pulled a face, shrugging and tightening his arm around her shoulders. 

  “I don’t know, I think you’d be better company,” He denied, obviously not taking the hint. Instead, he just stomped on the hint and punted it into the world’s farthest dumpster. “Besides, I don’t really think you have a boyfriend, you’re probably just telling me that so I leave you alone.” 

  “I can assure you, I am telling the whole truth when I tell you my boyfriend is going to be right back. And I do want you to leave me alone, that’s why I said ‘no’ earlier.” She remarked, her voice biting. He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he dramatically looked around. 

  “I certainly don’t see anyone coming ‘right back’,” He mocked, air-quoting her words. She huffed, rolling her eyes. “So I really don’t think you were telling me the truth about you boyfriend, Sweetheart-” 

  “Well, prepare to be proven wrong,” A new voice joined the conversation, the two of them looking to the side where there was a space at the corner of the two couches. There stood JJ, he dumped the two water bottles he held into Pope’s hands. Pope stood slightly behind JJ, looking rather nervous about what was going to happen as he dropped the bottles to the couch kie was laid out on. “Meet the boyfriend who’s now back and wanting you to leave before you leave with a limp.” He threatened the posh boy. 

  “So what? She wasn’t lying about the boyfriend, but can she really except not to be hit on when wearing that kind of a bikini,” He asked, speaking as if he was the victim being harassed. JJ’s knuckles cracked as he clenched them into a fist, his nostrils flaring, his eyes lighting up with anger. Even in their drunken and high daze, John B, Kie, and Sarah looked up with nervous eyes, watching the events unfolding. “And how can you be mad when you’re the one who left her alone after you let her leave the house wearing it?” He asked, Pope cringed, know what that comment ignited in JJ. Y/n watched, her mouth hanging open when he implied that she was JJ’s property. 

  “I see you’ve made your choice,” JJ spoke with a voice so calm that it scared the group. They had never heard his voice so calm in a situation like this. It was normally aggressive and raspy, strained from him trying to suppress his anger. It was as if he didn’t have anger issues and he was going to deal with this rationally. Just as the group was questioned what the blonde’s next moves were going to be, he lunged forward, gripping the collar of the guys polo, his fist connecting to his nose with a loud crack. “Did you really expect me not to break your nose being that much of a dick? You can’t be mad that your buddies aren’t here to protect you if they left you alone!” JJ’s normal aggressive voice returned, his fist painted with the guy’s blood as he sent blow after blow to the guy’s face. 

  “JJ! JJ! He’s had enough! This isn’t worth getting arrested again! JJ,” Y/n pleaded with her angry boyfriend, seeing him slamming the preppy boy against the wall, scarlet blood dropping to the dark hardwood floors of the house. “JJ,” She tried again, her voice scratchy from yelling so loud. “Pope! Help me grab his arm!” She called, a crowd forming to watch the fight. She knew John B was still too drunk to be able to help. Pope rushed towards JJ, the pair grabbing his arm when he went to power up another punch. 

  “Come on, man! We gotta go!” Pope called, but JJ stomped his foot into the Prep’s foot, a strangled scream leaving the Prep’s mouth as the tiny bones in his foot cracked. 

  “JJ! Stop!” Y/n yelled, tugging on the arm she clutched to her. JJ, having just sent a harsh kick to the shin of the opposite leg that he had just stepped on, glanced at her. Her eyes pleaded with him to stop as she tugged on his arm once again. He couldn’t help but compare her to earlier that night. Her arms were wrapped around his like they were right them, she shook it, just like she was doing right then, but her eyes were different. Earlier, they were light and big, resembling a puppy dog. Now, her eyes were wide and nervous, scared that he’d get in trouble over her - knowing that the Prep was no match for him. 

  “Let’s get out of here,” JJ nodded. his heart was still thumping with pure fury, but he knew he needed to walk away for her. She nodded, letting go of his arm, thinking he was completely done. “You get the others, I’ll be right there-” He didn’t even wait a second before he sent his knee into the Prep’s groin, hitting him square on. A loud ‘humph’ left the guy as he tried to double over, but JJ held him up by his polo collar. “You touch my girl, I break you. You try to press charges, I finish the job without her here to stop me, deal?” He hissed in a low voice. 

  “JJ! Stop and come,” Y/n ordered, realizing what her boyfriend was still fighting. JJ’s eyes hardened at the lack of response from the scared Prep, making him nod frantically. Once JJ’s hands left his collar, the boy crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain. “Let’s go, someone probably called the cops - the drug dealers took off.” She alerted JJ, Pope already trying to get the other three to follow him towards the van. Y/n grabbed JJ’s hand, pulling him through the watchful crowd. 

  The run to the van was all Pope, Y/n, and JJ trying to get the other three to run, basically pulling them along behind them. Once they were in the van though, that was another story. Tires squealing as JJ pulled off, speeding down the road, Y/n sitting in the passenger seat as she gripped on for dear life, and the other four being tossed around. “I’m sorry for leaving you for so long, someone decided to take an ice bath in the cooler, it took three of us to pull him out because his ass got stuck.” JJ spoke up, his voice soft. The van was quiet as eyelids became heavy in the back. Y/n looked over at him, his speed slowing once they got into Pogue territory. 

  “It’s okay, JJ. You protected me, though you went a little over and beyond, but none-the-less, you still protected me. Just like you promised,” Her voice was just as soft, the couple sharing a sweet moment. Cruising down the street, JJ couldn’t help but look over at her. “But, next time, please take yourself into account, Jay. It’s really not worth getting arrested again.” She pleaded. 

  “What are you talking about? Your safety is totally worth getting arrested for. I’d rather get arrested protecting you than you getting hurt. I would lose my mind if you got hurt.” He argued. She perked an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t see it since he turned his head to glance in front of them before looking back at her. 

  “And what happened back there wasn’t you losing your mind,” She asked. He shook his head, a light smile on his face as the air became lighter. “No matter that, how about we make a deal? You learn when to walk away and, to help you learn, every time you walk away from a fight - you get a little treat. How does that sound? We got a deal?” She proposed with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. JJ chuckled, taking one hand off the wheel to attach to her thigh, squeezing it affectionately. 

  “We got a deal.” He agreed, his blue eyes pouring all his love and affection into hers. It was like they were the only ones in the van. JJ’s heart swelled with love so much that it throbbed painfully, feeling like it was ready to burst with all the love being confined within it. Their moment was quickly interrupted by Pope sticking his head between the seats, breaking their eye contact. 

  “Yeah, as cute and sickening this moment between you two is, I would still like to get to John B’s in one piece. So, eyes on the road, Maybank!” He exclaimed, pointing to the empty road. JJ huffed, setting his eyes on the dark road ahead, leaving his hand on Y/n’s thigh. 

  “Fine, but Y/n and I call the spare room!” JJ announced to Pope who settled in the back once again. Pope groaned, kicking himself that he hadn’t called dibs on it sooner. 

  “You two always get the spare! Kie and I get it next time.” Pope bargained, his tone low. 

  “Deal.” JJ smirked, shooting Y/n a wink, flashing his crossed fingers while still keeping them from Pope’s sight. 

  “I saw that, Maybank!”               

[tarteausuga]

The Bubble Tea Chronicles - Yuta

CW: fluff. Yuta x she/her reader

WC: 1561

Summary: in which Yuta works at a bubble tea cafe and develops a crush on one of his regulars.

A/N: this was actually adapted from a WIP I have for Johnny but the scenario I had for Yuta is basically the same.

"Jasmine milk tea with grass jelly please." A familiar voice said, accompanied by the usual reusable cup and straw. Yuta looked up and confirmed who it was, her voice was like music to him after an image lunch rush.

"Half sweet, less ice?" He asked.

"Always." She smiled.

"This one's my treat." Yuta smiled

"Thanks Yuta." She grabs her drink and leaves to return to work.

"Have a good day." He smiled at her with sparkling eyes.

It was the same thing everyday at the same time. She always had headphones hanging around her neck that she removed from her ears the moment she entered the shop. She always ordered the same drink in her own reusable cup. During the winter, she would get it hot. She was always wearing all black but in ways that made her seem classy and elegant.

"Are you going to ask her out any time soon?" Winwin pokes at Yuta as they clean up from the lunch rush.

"She's dating someone." Yuta sighs.

"Of course she is. You always fall for the ones you can't have." Winwin chuckles as Yuta lands a punch on his arm. "Hey that's harassment!"

"Is it actually if you're my best friend of 10 years?" Yuta smirks.

He wasn't wrong though. Yuta has the tendency to become infatuated with the idea of someone long before he actually has a chance to get to know them on a deep level. He would say that he knew y/n for about a year now but in reality, he knew nothing about her.

---

The next day, Yuta was on his own for the lunch rush. Winwin called in sick and no one else was available to take his shift. By the time y/n walked in, Yuta was ready to collapse.

"Hey, is everything okay?" She peered up at him with her dark eyes.

"Yeah, Winwin called in sick and no one else could cover." Yuta sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. "The usual?"

"You don't have to today if you're tired." She insisted.

"No, no. It's on the house today." He takes her mug and starts to make her drink.

"Yuta you don't-"

"Please, you're the nicest person that's spoken to me today and you're honestly the highlight of my day." Yuta admitted in his tired state before realizing what he was saying.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that last part." She stood on her toes to look at him over the espresso machine.

"Oh I just said uh my day wouldn't be complete if I didn't make your drink." Yuta choked on his words.

"You're the best, Yuta." She said after sipping her bubble tea.

"Have a good day, y/n." He said to her as she walked out the door with a chime.

He was ready to collapse but he felt lighter after seeing her smile. He always smiled when she did but it quickly faded when he realized he couldn't do more for her than make her drink. As he was about to sit down for a break, the door chimed again and he saw y/n back again.

"Did I make it wrong?" He panicked.

"No, never." She assured him. "I just got you some juice and bread though I realize now this is redundant because you have this stuff here…" she trails off.

Yuta smiles, thinking how cute she was before taking the offerings and thanking her. "It's the thought that counts, thanks."

"I just wanted to pay you back for the free drinks over the past few months. You also give me my toppings for free and I don't know how you know I like pudding but it's a nice surprise and… Ugh I'm rambling. Thanks." She quickly smiled and left again.

---

"No bro, I'm glad you didn't come in. It was awful and I wanted to pass out but then she came in and oh man she's surprisingly cute." Yuta said to Winwin over the phone.

"Can I stay home tomorrow then?" Winwin joked.

"I will end you." Yuta responded seriously.

"Aww man I thought y/n softened you up so much." Winwin laughed.

"I will come to your house and drag you out if you're not at work tomorrow." Yuta hung up.

The door chimed and Yuta looked up to see a red-eyed y/n. "Hey Yuta." She forced a smile. "Mind if I just hang out here for a bit?" She retreated to a table in the corner.

"Is everything okay?" Yuta brought a glass of water to her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks." She smiled again while sipping the water.

"Let me know if you need anything." He put a hand on her shoulder which caused her to burst into tears. "Oh my god I'm so sorry, did I hurt you?" He kneels down to try and look at her face.

"No. No, I'm fine." She says between sobs, "I'm just having a bad day." She tries to laugh.

"You don't have to keep pretending like you're okay. Not with me." He says quietly to her. Looking around, he noticed most of his regular patrons had vacated the cafe out of respect. "I'm going to close up for the day. Do you want to help me? Keep your mind occupied for a little bit? No pressure, just get up when you're ready."

"Don't close, I'll just leave." She tries to get up but she's unsteady.

"It's been a long day. I want to go home anyway." He said as he eases her back into the chair. "Take your time."

The closing duties usually don't take him that long but today he wanted to stretch them out as long as possible. He counted everything multiple times, peering up to look at y/n every time. Slowly, he noticed that the more he counted, the more she started to perk up. Before, she was hiding her face in her hands or in her arms as they laid on the table but she progressively moved to looking out the window with her head perched on her hand. Finally, he looked up and saw her starting longer staring at him, startling him.

"You know for a scary looking guy, you're not that scary." She said.

"Look who finally stopped crying." He smirked at her.

"Do you want me to start crying again?" She pouted.

"No, you can help me wipe down the tables though." He tossed a towel at her.

"Are you going to pay me?" She caught it and took the spray bottle from the counter.

"Yes, you can have anything and everything you want from my display case. Take them or Winwin will take them home for his roommates." Yuta motioned to the treats behind glass.

"I accept." She smiles and begins to clean the tables.

Yuta watches for a moment, admiring her with her sleeves rolled up and hair pulled up into a ponytail.

"You're experienced. Way out of my pay scale." He laughs.

"I worked in a restaurant all through university. They even asked me to be manager but I wasn't interested." Yuta wasn't surprised. She had a natural sense of leadership to her. No matter where she went, there was a light that seemed to follow her.

"You could be the manager here so I can get a day off once in a while." He joked.

"I wouldn't mind, you deserve a break." Yuta gaped at her for a moment before she added "I'm serious! As long as I get to take home the cakes at the end of the day."

They continued to clean in silence for a few moments before she broke the silence. "How long have you worked at this place?" She leaned over the counter and watched him.

"Just over 4 years." He said with furrowed brows as he carefully wiped his baby down.

"That's quite a long time."

"I started working here as soon as my parents let me. I've been saving for my own cafe since then. The owner was retiring and had already finished paying the place off so he offered it to me for really cheap. When I turned 21, I signed the papers and here we are." He exhaled.

"What did you go to school for?" She asked.

"You ask a lot of questions." Yuta leaned across from her.

"It's my job." She shrugged.

"What do you do? Why do you wear all black?" He raised his eyebrow.

"I'm a recruiter. And I just like wearing black to work. It looks clean, put together."

"And are you going to tell me what made you so upset today?" Yuta attempted.

"Can I just have my cake and bubble tea?" She pouted.

"Yeah, you can." He didn't pry any further, "you don't have to smile all of the time."

"Thanks Yuta." She said, her usual bright smile fading to reveal a small glimpse into her soul.

Silence fell back over them as she watched Yuta pack up her wage for her work before they stepped out. "Do you want me to walk you home?" He offered as he locked down the shop.

"I'll be okay. Thank you for the offer though." She stood on her toes to give him a quick peck on the cheek, "and thanks for the food." She smiled before walking away, leaving Yuta to wonder what had happened that day.

[spectrumed]

7. identity

The aesthetic of suffering, the allure of victimhood, it’s important to acknowledge that to many people, the idea of struggling with mental illness is hot. A common trope in teen dramas is the existence of the sexy bad boy haunted by demons of depression or addiction or some other psychological malady. Women with mental illness tend to be sexualised, less, but then again, women are most typically always sexualised, no matter the state of their mental health. But it’s not just a case of some people finding mental illness to be attractive in others, many see mental illness in themselves as something to take pride in, to celebrate and nurture. To seek out a diagnosis, to infiltrate communities that exist to provide support to those in need, and to declare themselves as being special. Fakers, you could call them. Yes, we’re going to be entering into dangerous grounds here, talking about a potentially incendiary topic that might feed the flames of controversy, but it’s a topic worth discussing. Self-diagnosis. Is self-diagnosis valid or not? Should one self-diagnose? Is it ableism to be against self-diagnosis? Is it ableism to be for self-diagnosis? Is it ableism itself ableist? I don’t know, sweetheart, you are asking a whole bunch of questions and I am hungover… But let’s go on rambling about what it means to be labelled neurodivergent.

Do you have an identity? Do you root for a particular sports team? Do you like a particular kind of music? Do you dance a lot? Are you a dancer? What are you? Simply stating that you’re just “a human” probably won’t do. Sure, it’s correct, but I am also a human, and we could be two very different kinds of people. Your identity should be that certain something that makes you stand apart from the rest, that distinguishes you from the squirming mass of flesh that is the whole of humanity. There are plenty of things about you that do figure in your identity, even though you wish it didn’t. You’re black, you don’t wish to always be “that black guy over there,” but you’ve come to realise that’s just how society views you. Maybe you are a transwoman, and you very eagerly want your friend to stop introducing you as her “trans bestie.” You’re just a woman, you don’t need her to keep labelling you as trans, even though that's what you are. There are many ways we can change our identity through direct personal action. Maybe you could start wearing a hat, and be known as “that hat guy” to the people you work with. Maybe you could embrace a punk aesthetic, looking like young Johnny Rotten stepped into a time machine and got transported to the current day. Actions like these can have a big or small impact on how others see you, but it feels good to be able to make a decision like that and get a response. This is me, this is what I am. I’m the guy who wears bow-ties, don’t I look cool? If only shaping your sense of self always came down to personal decisions like that. You don’t always have a choice.

I’ve lately been watching some Conan O’Brien (American TV talk show host who’s recently decided not to be a TV talk show host) clips. I am sure I don’t need to explain who Conan O’Brien is to my readers, but just in case this is being read by aliens ten-thousand years from now, what I can tell you is that Conan O’Brien is well known for being freakishly tall. Like, really tall. He’s an elongated leprechaun. He’s turned being tall into one of his trademarks. Like many comedians, he’s come to use his corporeal form as a source for levity and fun. While, naturally, the man did not choose to grow as tall as he did, he’s come around to use his height not as a hindrance to success, but rather as an asset. He’s “that tall irish guy on the TV,” and he’s been that person for nearly thirty years. It pays to have some distinguishing feature if you wish to be distinguished. Mr. Joe Average might be perfectly funny and charming, but being an average-looking guy can be wholly detrimental in making a career for yourself as a funnyman. At least get yourself some weird voice, or something. Maybe pretend to be some foreigner and put on a fake accent. As a comedian your job is to be exploited, you wish to be made into a commodity to be sold. People will want to watch your special because of that funny face you pull in the thumbnail. To be different can be financially lucrative.

What’s the best approach in turning something that could be perceived as an abnormal feature into something that is beneficial to you? To make jokes about it? Certainly, if I were to meet a man with a heavily scarred face, I feel there’d likely be a tension between me and him that could be dispelled if that man with the heavily scarred face made some little joke about his appearance, some little quip. “I’m sorry, I cut myself shaving this morning,” would do. The person isn’t obliged to justify his existence to me, he does not have to go out of his way to make me feel less uncomfortable. I am the one in the wrong, certainly. I shouldn’t look at a person with a heavily scarred face and feel uncomfortable, that’s me letting prejudices get in the way, I know that. But, it is what it is. If you’re looking for a practical solution, telling people to simply get over themselves and learn to not be so awkward around folks with physical deformities won’t do. It may be the right thing, but it’s not going to happen any time soon. I am sure that the man with the heavily scarred face isn’t interested in being defined by his heavily scarred face. He's probably sick and tired of that little joke, and wish he didn’t have to make it. But it does the job. Suddenly, you are not looking at something to be feared, the other, you are looking at a person, and someone with a sense of humour. The importance of humour in eradicating stigma, making it possible for the ostracised to enter in society, cannot be understated. Through humour, you can convince most everyone that you are someone worthy of inclusion, because… well, you’re just a funny guy, who doesn’t wanna hang out with you?

For those who have grown up not feeling normal, worrying that there are aspects of your character that others may perceive as unwanted, the yearning to be liked can at times become excruciating. I like to consider myself a funny person, while this blog isn’t intended to be a humorous one, occasionally small little jokes will squirm their way to the top, like worms coming up to the surface during a rainstorm. I am also a cartoonist, and produce a new cartoon every other day. My humour isn’t universal, no good humour ever is universal, but it’s done good in getting some folks to like me. Some people want to be admired, some people want to be feared. I only want to be liked. The one thing I absolutely do not want to be is pitied. I don’t want your pity, I fear your pity.

You’re probably familiar with The Sims, right? It’s a life simulation game, where you control a little digital human, known as a sim, and try to help them make the right decision through life. Each sim has a number of meters that measures their current needs. Hunger, hygiene, energy, if they need to urinate or defecate (though, frankly, the distinction between the two isn’t made in the game, so one can assume that sims are like birds and have just one cloaca that does both,) and so on. One of these meters is for social activities. If a sim hasn’t been social in a while, they go nutty. What’s interesting here, the reason why I bring it up, is that in real life, though we all (to a lesser or greater degree) crave to socialise with others, what kind of socialising you do is of a very big importance. There are a myriad of ways in which one can be social, and depending on your needs at the time, one kind of socialising may not do, whereas another kind of socialising may be just what you need. Do you want to hang out with your pals, cracking jokes and maybe drinking a couple of beers? Do you want to have a serious conversation with your partner about what you wish to accomplish together? Do you want to play with your dog? These different social situations scratch different parts of your mind, and you can’t just substitute one for the other and think that’s all alright. A person may have tonnes of friends, lots of buddies to spend their time with, but they may still desperately be yearning for another kind of social interaction, one that none of their friends can deliver. The human need for company is more complex than how it is depicted in The Sims… which, to be fair, probably shocks nobody. The Sims doesn’t pretend that it’s some highly realistic simulation of real life, it’s a game meant to be played for fun. But what’s important here is the fact that while humans do have a need to be social, how that need is fed changes dramatically on the person, and their conditions. Socialising that may bring comfort to one person, may bring discomfort to another person.

I don’t want you to pity me. I may list my diagnoses, I may tell you of the difficulties that I face in life, but I do not want you to feel sorry for me. I want you to be entertained reading this, I don’t want to make you weep thinking about how cruel life can be. I don’t want you thinking I’m special, or different, because of my diagnoses. I want you to think I’m special and different because of my writing. Sure, this blog is about living with autism spectrum disorder, but I don’t want you reading this blog just because it’s about autism spectrum disorder. I want you to read this because, while it is about a diagnosis you are interested in learning more about, you also find what I write to be well-written and at times, mildly humorous. This blog isn’t my rabid manifesto detailing all the ways my life sucks, and what must be done by society to appease me. Nah, I’m doing relatively fine, don’t feel bad for me, please. I don’t want that kind of attention. I do want attention, I won’t lie and tell you that I don’t have an ego, or that I don’t get pleased seeing people like the things I put out there. I do have a social need, it’s just that being pitied does not do it for me. It doesn’t make me feel good. It makes me feel bad. It makes me feel sad. It really makes me feel mad.

We’re finally getting around to the topic I promised I would discuss. Self-diagnosis. A principal concern people have with self-diagnosis is that people only self-diagnose in order to receive pity from others. The difference between someone like me, who’s got a proper official diagnosis, and someone who is self-diagnosed, is that I don’t want your pity. I don’t want you to fetishise my diagnosis, this thing about me that I did not choose to be. I don’t want special favours just because of my diagnosis, I don’t want to be known as “that cartoonist with autism.” I am autistic, I’ve come to accept that, but I don’t want anyone to introduce me as “their friend who’s on the spectrum.” Some may accuse me of self-loathing, treating being autistic like some bad thing that I am ashamed of. But that’s not it. After all, I did start this blog to discuss what it is like. I just don’t want to be defined by this certain something that lies outside of my control. I don’t want it to be my “thing.” I don’t mind being referred to as a hairy cartoonist, because I am pretty hairy. I don’t want to cut my hair any time soon (especially with this plague going around.) No-one would pity me just because I am hairy. At most they may regard me as a good-for-nothing beatnik, and I’m okay with that. Ideally, I still want to be liked, but anything is better than being pitied. To be pitied is to be robbed of your own agency, your own potential. Sure, it gets you that attention you may be craving, but at the cost of infantilization. Autistic people often struggle with being infantilized by society, to the point where some folks don’t even realise that there are autistic grown-ups in the world. Anyone who would voluntarily seek out a diagnosis just to be pitied, well… it doesn’t sit right with me. It makes me, quite frankly, feel demoralised.

But not all people self-diagnose just to get pity from others, right? For some it’s genuinely their only option, likely living in a barely-functioning country like the United States where receiving psychiatric care is expensive and it’s just not something they can afford. It’s unfair of me to phrase self-diagnosing as just a quest to receive pity, it’s way more complicated than that. And yes, I’d have to agree. To know all the reasons why a person may self-diagnose, you have to go personally ask them. Even if it is possible to highlight a few certain trends, things that they all have in common, it’s bound to be impossible to make this one sweeping generalisation to explain everything. All I am saying is that there absolutely are those people who do self-diagnose with the explicit goal of getting pitied. Whether they are knowingly faking their condition or not, to them, being pigeonholed as a person with autism isn’t at all a negative. It’s their identity. It is how they have chosen to let the world see them. They made a choice. They chose this label. This is why many people who have official diagnoses are sceptical of those who've only got a self-diagnosis. Whether your self-diagnosis is accurate or not, in the end, you chose to identify yourself with it. You made a decision, oblivious of the fact that many people don’t get to make that kind of a decision, and they may bear resentment for how you are turning something they’ve faced ostracization for, into what is potentially on the same level as listening to a certain kind of music, or being a supporter of a sports team. A diagnosis is not something you should choose to have.

There are other things to say about self-diagnosis. First of all, it can be dangerous. Some of the diagnoses I’ve seen people give themselves are really serious, things like personality disorders or psychosis. Psychiatrists are very careful when putting these kinds of labels on people, knowing the harm that it can do. A diagnosis is meant to only be given after careful deliberation, and after long conversations with the patient. Psychiatrists know that reducing a person to a set of symptoms can have detrimental effects to that person’s sense of self. If you’re trying to cling on to a diagnosis, seeing it as a major part of your identity, then that may hamper any attempts you make to become a better person, to improve your mental health. You will feel as if you need to correspond to the exact specifications of the disorder, and you will not allow yourself to grow naturally as a complicated human being, a human being whose internal life is far too vast to be fully rounded up with some psychiatric jargon. There are plenty of things about me that do not line up with the diagnostic criteria for autism spectrum disorder, and guess what, that’s quite good actually. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have autism, I very much do, but I realise that as a person, I am more than just my diagnosis. The diagnosis does not define me, I define the diagnosis. If you self-diagnose, do you comprehend all that you are getting yourself into? Are you going to find yourself in psychological traps that will only serve to worsen your mental health? It’s hard to look at yourself objectively, you could easily be misrepresenting yourself inside your own mind. You may effectively be locking parts of yourself away, making it so you are no longer able to see the full you. You will no longer be all there, you will be segmented in favour of upholding the defining marks of a diagnosis that doesn’t suit you.

Instead of self-diagnosing, try doing a self-assessment. Keep in mind that, while you may have this diagnosis, it’s too early to say for sure. You’re going to need somebody else’s input. You’ll need to sit with it for a while to see if it sticks. Keep an open mind, realise that there’s no easy way to explain exactly who you are, or what you are like. It’s very possible that you will come to realise that you are in fact autistic, or have whatever other diagnosis you may suspect describes you. I, after all, came to the conclusion that I was autistic before I got the diagnosis (though, I was going to therapy at that point, and I was on the way to undergo a neuropsychiatric evaluation.) It’s not bad to try and get to understand yourself, don’t come out of this thinking that self-reflection is only possible with a psychiatrist looming over you, telling you how to think about things. We all need to come to certain conclusions over how we self-identify, and sometimes you need to take mental leaps to explain certain things. Just don’t feel as if your best option is to put a label on yourself that can potentially negatively affect your psychological well-being. If you are truly searching for understanding, if your goal is to find out more about yourself, you should act with caution and concern for what you are doing. If all you are looking for is to have people pity you, then… well… I don’t know what to say, really…

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 35

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Final Waystation chapter, yay!

Or: In which Leo and Calypso both make some progress.

A/N: OK, first of all, within these 3 weeks we have hit 3 pretty big milestones! 1) It was this fic's first anniversary this friday so hooray for that! Can't believe this story has been in my life so long already. 2) We've reached 7000 hits on ao3! It's crazy to think so many of you are reading this even though not all that many seem to like Caleo! And 3) We have also reached 90k words with this chapter! No, when I started planning this fic I definitely did not plan to make it over 100k words but that really seems to be the direction it's going to :'D I /do/ however hope that once we finally get the flatmates back to their flat, we are (slowly) starting our journey towards the 'final arc'. But how many words will that take? Only Apollo knows, I guess.

Alright, enough rambling! Now, enjoy and please, please, please, let me know what you think of this chapter (and the previous one if you haven't) because I /really/ do want to know what you think. Was it about time? Are these two being too sappy? And all that stuff!

Words: 4287

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

...

After the whole ‘kitchen episode’ Leo and Calypso went back to spend some time with Leo’s family who were playing Monopoly in Waystation’s small library. Calypso had expected to be questioned about what had happened in the kitchen. To her surprise, though, Emmie just briefly asked if the flatmates had managed to resolve their issues, to which they answered a quick ‘yes’, and that was the end of that conversation. Even though Calypso was grateful that she or Jo hadn’t asked more, at the same time, one part of her did want to tell them.

Once a new round of Monopoly was finished (with Leo winning, even though the others kept whispering to him that he should let Georgina win), it was already pretty late and Leo and Calypso withdrew into their respective rooms. When it got quiet in the hallway, though, there was a knock on Calypso’s door.

“Who is it?” Calypso asked from her bed where she had been resting, thinking about the events of that day.

The voice from the other side of the door said: “Just me, Leo. Can I come in?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t do anything funny while in here,” Calypso replied, half joking, half serious.

“What, nothing funny? But Leo Valdez and fun go hand in hand,” he claimed through the door.

Calypso rolled her eyes at him even though he couldn’t see. “Ugh, you know what I mean. Listen, I know we are… um…” she stopped to taste the word in her mouth, “... dating now, but I have decided that I want to take it slowly. Too many bad experiences in the past. I hope you get that.”

“Alright, I understand,” Leo said to her relief. “Don’t worry, I won’t be trying anything ‘funny’ as you called it. I’m a man of my word!”

“In that case, you can come in here,” Calypso told him, sitting up on her bed.

Leo entered the room, still wearing the day clothes (surprisingly, jeans and a white shirt this time, and not his favorite overalls. While Calypso loved the overalls, she did have to admit that he looked pretty nice in the current outfit) even though it was already pretty late. Calypso herself had changed into her pajamas, a pink flannel shirt and pants that matched it. She followed Leo to a small couch opposite to her bed, sitting down next to him. At first she kept some space between them but after some hesitation and some encouraging looks from Leo, she finally snuggled up by his side, leaning her head on his shoulder. Her hand was laying on her pajama pants and he lowered his on it, tracing the outline with his thumb. Calypso was happy to notice he felt nicely warm on the cool winter night.

“I am glad we can do this now,” she said quietly, watching their hands.

“Me too. Although, we could probably have done it a whole lot earlier if we weren’t so damn stubborn,” Leo reminded her.

“Ouch. Yeah, that is probably true,” Calypso admitted, closing her eyes.

“So… it’s been a day,” Leo said when a silence fell between them. “It has…” Calypso agreed. “Weird how this morning seems to have happened like a year ago.” “Yeah…” Calypso shifted slightly on her spot by Leo’s side. “Can I ask you a question, though? How are you feeling now? You know… after… everything...”

“I… it’s hard to say,” Leo answered. “I’m not gonna claim that us kissing fixed all of my problems. Nah, it doesn’t work like that. Don’t get me wrong, it was awesome but - woah, am I really saying this? - I think the opening up part was more important. It clarified some things in my head. You know, like what I want to do and what I should do. And the fact that you have experienced something similar… This is probably gonna sound awful, but I was kinda relieved to hear that. Don’t get me wrong; I wish that you wouldn’t have had to go through any of that, but since you have… it means we understand each other. I can trust that you won’t judge me, which I honestly can’t say about all the people.”

“Yeah.” Calypso nodded slightly, not removing her head from his shoulder. “I know what you mean. I feel the same way.”

“And…” Leo continued, and Calypso imagined a grin spreading on his face, “Now I have some good memories to associate Christmas with. That definitely doesn’t hurt, right?”

“I’m glad I managed to give you something else to think about, then.” Calypso smiled.

“You certainly did. For real, I’ve had to pinch myself a couple of times this evening,” Leo confessed.

“Why?” Calypso frowned.

“Because it’s hard to believe it’s true. I mean this. Us.”

“And why is that?” Calypso wanted to know.

“Because you’re great in practically every possible way while I’m… me?”

Calypso raised her head from Leo’s shoulder and gave Leo her best ‘are you kidding me’ look. “Listen to me now. Aside from your guilt complex, you really should work on your self esteem some more. You’re a good person, Leo, even though you don’t always seem to think so. Of course you have your flaws just like I do, but I don’t love some superhuman version of you. Me from a few months ago is probably shaking her head so hard right now, but here’s what I think: you’re smart. And funny when you’re not trying to. And persistent. Hard-working. You make fixing things seem effortless. And you’re ready to put your loved ones’ happiness before yours. In fact, I think sometimes you care so much that it hurts you. But it only makes me care about you even more."

Leo was quiet for a while, probably still trying to swallow Calypso’s words.

“Woah, um… Thanks, Sunshine. I guess two people can really see the same thing very differently.”

“Yes, we can,” Calypso agreed. “I bet your view of me is also very different from how I see myself.”

“You’re probably right there.”

Calypso decided to change the topic when it got quiet. “Do you think that your family has any idea? About what happened between us?”

“I think we did our acting pretty well.” Leo grinned against her hair. “It’s pretty suspicious, though, that they didn’t ask us anything.”

“Well, better that way than trying to answer some awkward questions,” Calypso noted. “Um… I hope you know that I would really like to tell them about us, but… it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“I know. You just want to protect me, right? I would also want to protect you if I was in your situation.”

“Mmmmh.”

A comfortable silence fell between the couple. Calypso was happy to notice that Leo was so relaxed in her company that he didn’t even swing his legs back and forth like he often did. Eventually he spoke:

“Hey… you asked me how I am doing but what about you? I know I haven’t made this day easy for you…”

“I appreciate you asking. To be honest? I’m doing pretty well now. This night has been… unexpected, to say the least. I didn’t think I would be brave enough to get over my worries, but here we finally are. It’s a bit scary…” Calypso noticed Leo’s hand twitching slightly on hers, so she was quick to add: “... but like you said, also relieving. Don’t worry, I will be sticking to my word. There are no take backs now,” Calypso reassured him.

“Good.” Leo nodded.

“Hey... “ Calypso said when she spotted something on the nearby desk. “I, uh, know that we both have been really testing our boundaries today, but there’s something I would still like to try. That is, if that’s OK with you.”

“Alright. What is it?” Leo asked curiously.

“My mum always used to light up some candles by the windowsill on Christmas night when I was a kid. She said she did that in memory of those who weren’t there to celebrate with us anymore. That’s a tradition that’s stuck with me until now. Emmie put some candles over there…” Calypso nodded towards a desk by the window, “... earlier today, but I didn’t know how you would feel about me using them, so I didn’t. But… What do you say? You could take it as a part of your training.”

Leo didn’t seem to love the idea at first but finally he gave in.

“Alright. But just one. And it needs to be far from all the other objects.”

“Yes. Don’t worry, we both will keep a watchful eye on it.”

Calypso felt Leo’s eyes on her the whole time as she rose from the sofa and lit up the candle. He was seemingly relieved when she sat back down next to him and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. “You know all about the fire’s dangerous sides…” Calypso started with a calming tone, “... but it can be very useful too when used right. It can ruin, but it can also help to build new things. A lot of your precious machines wouldn’t exist without fire, right? Have you ever stopped to consider that?”

Leo frowned at her, taking her words in. “Are you trying to say that fire has many different sides to it, just like us people? But if we only choose to see the negative, we will never understand the positive sides?”

“Yes, basically. We are both very judgemental towards ourselves, but today was a good example that not everyone sees us the same way.”

“Yeah… You’re not wrong there… I’ll try to remember that.”

“Me too.”

Calypso noticed Leo glanced at the candle briefly before his eyes returned to her. He was still a little stiff but a lot less so than when Calypso had lit up the candle.

“I was thinking…” he said suddenly. “Since we are official now and all that… Should we, you know, do something together… you know, outside our flat… sometime? When this vacation is over?”

“You mean like a date?” Calypso asked, surprised by the chance of the topic. But then again, she figured it might have been his way to try to distract himself. “Hmmm, let me think…” Leo already looked a bit worried for a moment before she finally started smiling at him. “Alright. I suppose we can do that.”

“And will we resume our movie nights? And cooking sessions?” His eyes lit up almost like the candle on the desk.

“Of course, you weirdo. I don’t think I have any reason to avoid you anymore, now that you know…”

“Know what?” Leo grinned. “That you think Leo Valdez is pretty damn hot?”

Calypso knew that Leo was most likely expecting her to lash at him, so she decided to use a different kind of tactic. She gave him a flirtiest smile she could muster, and replied:

“Sure. Let me tell you a little secret: when you are wearing those overalls you always do, my heart feels like it’s doing somersaults in my chest…”

Leo blinked at her a couple of times as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

“Wait, what? What did you just say?”

Calypso snorted. “Just playing your own game, you know.”

“Oh, alright. I see now.” Leo’s ears went red, which amused Calypso a lot.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” she chirped at him, poking his cheek playfully.

“Har har.”

Calypso pressed a kiss on his cheek.

“I hope you know I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t 100% comfortable around you. I had already decided that I would not… I would not allow myself to go through what I already did several times before, but you just had to make me break my promise to myself.”

“And you know what?” Leo turned his head so they were eye to eye. “I’m not sorry at all that I made you do that.”

“Of course you aren’t,” Calypso rolled her eyes at him. They kept gazing at each other for a moment before Calypso’s urge to kiss her fool of a boyfriend got too strong. It was a light and gentle kiss, one that she hoped told him that she was happy to be where she was and also proud of him for being able to handle the flame of the candle.

“Whoa, what was that for?” Leo asked once Calypso had pulled away.

“Just to shut you up for a moment,” Calypso lied.

“Nah. You wouldn’t want me to do that,” Leo grinned at her knowingly.

“Alright. Maybe I wouldn’t. So keep talking,” Calypso encouraged him.

“Okay,” Leo obliged. “About what?”

“Anything, really. Something silly and light, Leo Valdez style.”

Leo seemed to think about Calypso’s request for a moment.

“Hey, have you heard about the time when Jason had a party at his father’s house without him knowing and Piper…”

Leo continued telling her silly stories about his friends (even though a few involved also Percy, that didn’t ruin Calypso’s mood). From that they moved onto other things, such as what an ideal date would be for each of them (their opinions differed less than expected, to Calypso’s surprise), the favorite place they had ever visited (Calypso remembered Malta and the nearby islands quite fondly), and how fast Georgina would build her 1000-piece puzzle. The time flew by as they talked and Calypso was surprised to notice at some point that it was almost 3 AM and the candle had gone out a long time ago without either of them noticing. Leo snuck back into his room as quietly as possible, but not without giving Calypso one last good night kiss in the dark hallway before they separated.

…

The Christmas break was coming to an end and it was Leo and Calypso’s last full day at Waystation. Calypso felt a little bitter sweet about it; on one hand the vacation had been a bit of a rollercoaster emotionally, but on the other hand everything had ended better than she had dared to expect. She knew that she and Leo still had plenty of work to do when it came to their communication skills and of course she was also worried something would go wrong – specifically, regarding her father – but it still felt so freeing to be able to tell what she really thought and to be able to love and be loved.

She would of course miss the people of Waystation. Georgina was adorable and seemed to have basically adopted Calypso as her big sister at this point. She enjoyed teaching things to the girl; baking, gardening, sewing, even a little bit of singing… She was also pretty quick-witted for someone of her age and Calypso was quite certain that she did know that something was going on between her and Leo no matter how hard they were trying to deny it. Leo’s mothers were also great people and they had already told Calypso that she was welcome to Waystation any time she wanted. They also mentioned that they didn’t mind if she kicked Leo’s butt a bit sometimes when he deserved it. She had thanked them and told them that she’d keep their advice in mind.

The final day didn’t go entirely without surprises. Emmie had quickly mentioned that they would be getting more dinner guests that day, but Calypso hadn’t been prepared for the entire Hunters of Artemis crew to show up. They were old acquaintances of Jo and Emmie, the group’s former coaches, and the older women still asked them to drop by whenever they were nearby. To Calypso’s surprise, when she heard about the visit, her instinct to flee was not quite as strong anymore as it had been when she had last seen Thalia and Reyna.

“Are you OK with this?” Leo asked after Emmie had gone back to greet the visitors. “I remember that you weren’t eager to talk to them at the Halloween party and now I understand why… If you wanna, like, go out and check the foster animals or something like that, we can do that.”

“I think… I think it’s time for me to face my past,” Calypso replied. “I can’t do that if I hide every time I see someone who used to know Zoë…”

“That’s a fair point,” Leo agreed. “But still, don’t push yourself too hard.”

Soon the couple was in the hallway where everyone had gathered.

“Oh, there you two are!” Jo exclaimed when she saw them. “I was already starting to wonder if you had gone back to your flat earlier than planned.”

“Oh, nah,” Leo denied, waving his hand nonchalantly. “We just had some things we needed to discuss.”

Jo looked at him suspiciously, probably wondering what exactly they had discussed. “Hmm. Well, it’s good that you seem to be on speaking terms again. Anyway, Calypso, I believe you haven’t met these people before, so say hello to the Hunters of Artemis. Thalia Grace…” She pointed at a young woman with dark, spiky hair, whom Calypso remembered from the Halloween party. “Reyna Ramírez-Arellano…” Another dark haired girl, with a long braid, however, nodded at Calypso. “And here’s…” Jo continued her introductions but the names simply went through her brain and didn’t stay there. Maybe it was the Leo influence, she wondered; she didn’t remember having issues with focusing earlier.

“Hi, all.” She tried to sound confident but she didn’t think she succeeded very well. Surely Reyna and Thalia remembered how she had spent a whole night trying to avoid talking to them, getting drunk and throwing up in Piper’s bathroom in the end. “Hello,” Reyna spoke first. “I believe I’ve seen you once before. At Jason’s place last month, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Calypso had to admit reluctantly. Well, at least she wasn’t drunk in a mythology themed costume right now, she thought, so she had a chance to give them a bit better picture of herself than earlier.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you properly now,” Reyna said and shook her hand.

“Likewise,” Calypso told her, although she still felt like she was not living up to the meaning of her name, ‘she who conceals’.

“And you probably saw Thalia at that party too. Jason’s sister. My… friend.” Reyna glanced at the other girl quickly when she said the word ‘friend’.

Calypso noticed the slight hesitation and remembered Leo and some others as well mention that the two girls most likely had something going on even though they had to hide it because of their status on their archery team. She knew better than to bring that up, though.

“Hello, Thalia. Yes, I remember seeing you there,” she replied, mainly to be polite.

Before anyone had time to say anything else, Jo told the group that the guests were free to explore the house or do anything they wanted while she and Emmie were finishing the dinner and setting the tables. Many of the Hunters headed back out to the yard to see the animals or do a little bit of exercising before the meal, but Reyna and Thalia had apparently spent their afternoon practicing so they needed a little down time. Leo asked Calypso if she would have preferred to go to help Emmie and Jo but she remained stubborn. If she couldn’t do this now, she didn’t know she would be able to do it, so she guided Leo to the living room where Reyna and Thalia had gone.

When Thalia heard they had entered the room, she turned towards them.

“We didn’t really get a chance to talk the last time I saw you,” she noted bluntly.

“Sorry about that; I was having a bit of a rough day back then, to be honest,” Calypso replied vaguely.

“To me it looked like you were having the most fun out of all of us,” Thalia said, but Reyna elbowed her in the ribs. “Hey!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Calypso sighed. “I wasn’t acting like myself that evening.”

“We all have those days…” Reyna reassured her.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Calypso shrugged.

“Someone mentioned that your last name is Astal,” Thalia noted when it got quiet again. “Is that true?”

“Yes, unfortunately it is,” Calypso replied, getting a bit anxious because she knew where this conversation was heading to. “Why do you ask?”

Her hand quickly reached for Leo’s, who was still standing next to her, and even though she couldn’t hold it in front of the others, feeling his fingers right next to hers felt reassuring.

“Because it’s probably not a very common last name, right?” Thalia inquired, “and we used to have someone on our team whose last name was Astal before she took her mother’s last name. Zoë Nightshade, does that ring any bells?”

“Yes. She was my older sister,” Calypso confirmed, feeling herself stiffen a bit.

“Oh… I’m so sorry… I mean, I heard what happened to her… Just horrible.” Thalia shook her head.

Calypso was struggling to find the right words, but Leo quickly tapped on her back with his fingers when the others didn't notice and that helped her to root herself. “I don’t think there are any words to describe it,” she mumbled. “Um, did you know my sister well?”

“Not as well as some others on our team, to be honest. I had only been on the team for a few months before we heard the news about the accident…” Thalia said. “But she seemed like such a great person. One of our most talented archers for sure, and really determined. She was always the first on the field and the last to leave.”

“That… that does sound like her,” Calypso smiled a bit sadly. “Did she… did she ever talk about her home life to you?”

“Not much.” Thalia shrugged. “A bit.”

“Oh… What did she say?” Calypso wanted to know.

“I did get the impression that she really hated her father. And her mother lived somewhere far, apparently? But she did mention her sisters every once in a while. Did she have any other younger siblings besides you?” Thalia asked.

“No, she didn’t. She was the second youngest and I am the youngest of the group. Big family… But is there a reason why you ask that?”

“You see, she did sometimes talk about her baby sister. I remember that she always wished she could do more for her because she thought her sister deserved better than what she… Wait, what’s wrong?” she stopped when she noticed Calypso’s reaction.

Even though Calypso had tried her best to stay calm, once she heard what Zoë had said about her, she couldn’t stop the tears anymore. Leo quickly stepped in front of her while she tried to recover and glared at Thalia angrily.

“Calypso was there when the accident happened,” he blurted. “Do you think she really wants to talk about her the whole time?”

“I thought she would be happy to hear that her sister respected her a lot,” Thalia attempted to defend herself.

“But…” Leo wanted to continue the debate but Calypso stopped him.

“No, Leo, it’s OK.” She put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not OK!” Leo exclaimed.

She took a deep breath and withdrew herself from Leo’s arms. “It is. I mean… It's not easy for me to talk about her, but it’s like I said earlier. I need to learn to live with this. Does it hurt? Yeah. But I’m also thankful for hearing her say that about me. She wished I could experience a better life than she did prior to her joining the Hunters. I hope that if she’s watching me right now… from wherever she is… she’s happy for me. Well… I’m not out of the woods yet, as you can surely see right now," she chuckled ironically, referring to her teary face, "but… you know. I’m getting there. I’m feeling better than I have in a long while. And that’s what counts.”

“I don’t know what your source of happiness is, but whatever it is, I’m sure she would be happy for you.” Thalia nodded approvingly.

“Some things are better kept secrets,” Calypso replied mysteriously, turning to Reyna. “Did you know my sister?”

“No, unfortunately not,” Reyna replied. “I joined this group only a couple of years ago. Thalia’s been on it way longer. But I’ve heard a lot of stories about her from some of our older teammates, and it sounded like she was someone everyone looked up to. Even our coach complimented her sometimes and she never compliments anyone unless for a very good reason.”

“It sounds like she was really enjoying her life and had great people around her before… you know. It’s… great. I saw how hard she fought to get out of our father’s grip and do what she really wanted. She was happy with you guys.” The evil side of Calypso’s brain wanted to add that ‘she was happy until I messed it up for her’. She considered the fact that she managed to call herself out before she said that sentence aloud as some kind of progress.

“Yeah. I really think she was,” Thalia reassured her.

Calypso gave her a small, sad smile. “Good.”

After that the group started talking about other things. Thalia told Calypso some stories about Jason. Reyna explained why she had decided to join the Hunters even though she had already been doing well on another team before that. Leo also contributed to the stories sometimes and at some point, Calypso noticed that she was feeling quite at ease with this group. Even though Zoë was still briefly mentioned on a few occasions, it didn’t bother her as much anymore. Some kind of lock had opened inside her and she didn’t plan to close it anymore.

[mkkhaikyuu]

Autumn Skies: Chapter 4

 previous | chapter 4 | next |  masterlist

Horizons

Warnings: none (?) except for angst

wc: 3k 

Coffee. You desperately needed coffee. And lunch, too, you decided, your eyes flickering to the wall clock across from you to look at the time. 

You sat deflated in your seat at Miss Yukino’s office. You had just finished taking an English language assessment test for your Yale admissions that lasted around two and a half hours. It’s not that you had a hard time. You were confident that you’d managed to at least get a decent score on it. But you stayed up late last night, combing through your brain for the words to write in your college essays. 

You vaguely recall 02:46 AM glowing green on the digital clock on your nightstand when you finally plopped down into your bed last night. And at 5:15 AM, the same clock had woken you up for morning club practice. 

Practice had gone on normally that morning, which actually was quite unfortunate for you. Not only did you not get enough sleep, but you had to toss balls to each of the volleyball players for their spiking practice and had to clean up the gym afterwards. You barely had any energy left when you had your morning class.

It was the week before your final exams for the term so some classes were free so that students could get some of their own studying done. So after your first class that ended at 9:30AM, you were free for the rest of the morning. You then went straight to Miss Yukino’s office for the language assessment test. By the first hour of the exam, you were already beat. 

Stifling a yawn, you looked over at the clock again. 12:03PM. You waited as Miss Yukino typed away into her laptop, shuffled through the papers on her desk, then typed away into her laptop again.

You decided to fish your phone out of your bag and found that Kenma had texted you.

Kenma (11:58am): y/n, where are you?

You (12:03pm): I’m at the guidance counselor’s office. I’m almost done here and I’m gonna go grab lunch right after. Why?

Kenma (12:04pm): what are you doing there? did you get into trouble?

You (12:04pm): No! What do you take me for? I’m here for my uni admissions. You know, that kind of stuff.

Kenma (12:05pm): what? I thought you were going to the university of Tokyo with Kuro. he doesn’t seem to be busy preparing for all that stuff right now unlike you.

Kenma (12:05pm): y/n... is there something you’re not telling me?

You grimaced at Kenma’s text. If he were here right now, he would have pinned you down with his calculating gaze. The guy was just too observant. It was hard to let anything get past him. Sighing, you typed in a reply.

You (12:07pm): oh yeah about that...There’s a possibility that I might not be attending Tokyo uni. Nothing’s set in stone yet though so I’d rather not talk about it for now. Please don’t tell anyone?

Kenma (12:07pm): okay, sure. but you know you can tell me about anything anytime, right?

You (12:07pm): yeah, I know :) 

Kenma (12:09pm): anyway. can you come down to the clubroom once you’re done there? we can eat lunch together. i’ll buy you food. my treat :)

You (12:11pm): oh??? why’s that? but sure! thanks Kenma! You’re the best <333  

Kenma (12:11pm): you’ll see when you get there.

You frowned in curiosity at his message. Kenma was not the type to initiate something like this. You wonder what was up. Exhaustion momentarily forgotten, you couldn’t wait to get yourself to the clubroom. Just as you put back your phone back into your bag, Miss Yukino calls your attention. 

“Y/n, the testing center said that your results will be available next week. In the meantime, I suggest you work on your essays.” 

“Oh, right,” you nodded.

“The deadline’s coming up. Don’t hesitate to drop by anytime if you need any help. The sooner we can comply with all the requirements, the better,” she grinned, raising an index finger. 

You sighed in relief and stood up, smoothing down your skirt. “Thank you, Miss Yukino. I mean it.” 

She waved you off, laughing softly, “I’m just doing my job. Don’t worry too much, okay? Now get out of here and have lunch. Catch up on some sleep tonight, too! You look like you need it.”

You grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head. “Yeah, I will. Thanks again! Enjoy your lunch!” 

You gave her a quick bow then left.

Once out of the office, you headed straight to the clubroom where Kenma asked you to meet him, jogging on the way. You were half worried that something was wrong and half relieved that you could finally take a break from the wave of draining activities you’d had since you stepped foot into the school this morning. 

Reaching the clubroom, you reached out to grip the door handle and slid the door open slowly, hesitatingly, as if you were afraid of what you’d find on the other side. Peeking through the small gap, you see Yaku and Kenma staring back at you owlishly. They were seated at the table in the clubroom, Kenma holding his console and Yaku opening his lunch.

“Come in,” Yaku tells you, eyebrows raised at the way you hovered at the entrance.

“Is something up?” you asked them as you strode in and sat beside Kenma. You noted the takeout food and iced coffee that sat on the table. 

“Eat first, talk later,” Yaku announces. He gestured to the food on the table. You wonder what was making him uncharacteristically serious but at the moment you were too hungry to care. 

Right. Eat first, talk later.

“Here,” Kenma says, taking out the food he had delivered from the paper bag it came in and setting it in front of you. Your eyes glossed over when you realized that it’s katsudon from that pricey restaurant at the mall. 

“The coffee’s yours, too,” he tells you simply. 

“What the hell, Kenma? When you said it was your treat, I thought you meant food from the cafeteria! Not-” you gestured to the food he laid out in front of you, “THIS!” 

You were not a crybaby. But maybe it was the built up stress you had been feeling from dealing with your feelings for Kuroo, managing the volleyball club, and working on your Yale admissions that had tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. You pouted at Kenma, touched by his gesture. 

“Why are you doing this?” you eyed him warily. 

“You looked like you needed some cheering up this morning,” he shrugs. 

Humming, you run your gaze suspiciously between Yaku and Kenma. “Right... Well, in any case, I can’t accept this for free so I’m going to have to pay you back later.” 

“You can try but I won’t accept your payment either,” Kenma answers. 

“Can you two just eat already?” Yaku huffs as he chewed on his food.

You pouted at Kenma but he only stares blankly at you until you finally decide to relent. Sighing, you reached out to poke his cheek. 

“Thanks, Kenma,” you told him with a soft smile before digging into your food.

---

Now that you’re done with eating, the food containers sat neatly arranged on the table, ready to be disposed. You sat back on the chair and sipped on your coffee, finally feeling alive for the first time that day. 

“So, why did you ask me to come here?” you asked. Maybe they wanted to talk about the Christmas party you were going to have on Saturday. Were they planning a surprise or something?

Yaku met Kenma’s eyes briefly before he looked back to you.

“We need to talk. The talk. This is an overdue discussion,” Yaku tells you seriously, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said and raised an eyebrow at him. You turned to Kenma for some answers.

“Just so you know, this was his idea,” Kenma shrugs. 

Yaku clears his throat before asking, “Okay, I’m not going to beat around the bush. Y/n, do you like Kuroo?” 

You almost spit your drink. Being asked that question was the last thing you expected. “What? Like, as a friend? Of course, I do.” you say matter-of-factly. You have an inkling that that was not what Yaku meant but you were not going to give it to him so easily.

“You know what I mean. Do you have feelings for Kuroo? Romantically?” 

Yaku leans back on his seat, a softer look appearing on his face. 

“And if I do?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him. The libero’s face lit up at the revelation.

“I knew it! You like Kuroo!” he yells shortly before frowning at Kenma and muttering, “Wait. Don’t tell me you already knew all this and didn’t bother to tell us.” 

You tell them to keep it down, quickly looking around in case someone was around who might overhear.

“It’s not my story to tell,” Kenma retorts.

“Okay, okay,” you quickly interrupt the two, tapping a hand on the table twice. “What’s with all the sudden interest about me liking Kuroo?” 

At that, Yaku reveals that they’ve always thought that you and Kuroo had a thing for each other before Hana came into the picture. How the team thought you were secretly dating, and how it was only a matter of time before the two of you would announce it to the team. 

“I’ve noticed how you two don’t joke around like you used to before. You two don’t talk as much. You both were so inseparable -- practically attached at the hip -- before. It’s so weird seeing you two be so distant with each other now,” he continues. 

Kenma listened as he played with his console, occasionally agreeing with and adding to Yaku’s points. You allowed the two of them to speak up, preferring to listen instead. A few more moments of Yaku rambling passed before he quiets down.

A whisper of a frown was etched on his face. “We’re just concerned about you, you know. Ever since you showed up late that one time to practice and when you didn’t join the celebration dinner after the spring interhigh tournament on Kuroo’s birthday, the team is starting to wonder if something’s wrong. Not only that, I noticed how you’re often spacing out and acting distracted during practice these days, which is so unlike you.”

Kenma looked up from his game and turned to you. “Yeah. You always seem so tired these days. I know you’re stressing about your studies so you could maintain your grades and graduate at the top of the class, but I know you wouldn’t stress about it to that extent. I know you well enough to know that there’s something else that’s stressing you out. At practice earlier, you didn’t even look like you had a wink of sleep last night. That’s the reason why I bought you coffee.”

The two of them look at you expectantly, making you shake your head with a snort.

“I honestly don’t know where to begin,” you said, laughing wryly while running a hand through your hair.

“I was just as surprised as you, really. Kuroo never talked about Hana to me before. They just started hanging out after class one day, and since then he’s been spending less time with me and more with Hana.”

“Kenma already knows about my feelings for Kuroo, though,” you said, meeting Kenma’s eyes.

You paused, looking up at the ceiling, trying to find the right words.

Kenma nods in agreement. “He never talked about Hana with me either so we never saw it coming. The three of us were walking home after practice a few months ago when Kuroo saw Hana and told Y/n and I to go home without him. And weeks later, we found out that they’re dating.” He shrugs and goes back to his game.

“And how do you feel about them?” Yaku asks.

Your eyes scanned the room, as if the answers were written in the walls somewhere. “Hmm, I don’t know. I mean, at the beginning, I moped about it for a few weeks.” 

You thought back on all the sleepless nights and the pints of ice cream and the junk food you binged on while you wallowed in your pain and sadness. If Kuroo had seen all that, he would have thrown a fit at the unhealthy lifestyle you had adopted. But of course, he hadn’t. And so it went on like that for days.

You remember your tearstained pillows, the bad score you had on a test for the first time in a long time, and all the acting like you were fine when deep down you felt like an open wound. And Kuroo and Hana were the salt on the wound that halted your healing process each time you saw them. 

But maybe the worst of it all were the questions and the what-if’s that started to haunt you. 

What does Kuroo see in her that he doesn’t see in you? What did all the flirting, the soft looks he gave you, the lingering touches when your fingers or arms brushed mean? 

Was it really all in your head? Was everything one-sided? Did he not feel the same pull that you felt towards him? Not even a little bit? 

What if you confessed to him before it was too late?

You inhaled sharply. It felt weird to lay your feelings out in the open like this. “I was crazy to think he felt the same towards me, you know. I guess I led myself on. I actually thought I was special.” You laughed humorlessly. “But I realized that’s just how he is to the people close to him. I see it in the way he acts around, Kenma.”

“What?! No, no,” Yaku interrupts. “Like I said, we all thought you had a thing for each other. We were so sure Kuroo had feelings for you. It’s different from how he is around Kenma. There was something more,” - he paused and met Kenma’s eyes - “At least we thought there was.” 

The room was silent for a brief moment as the two quickly shared a look as if they realized that they said something they shouldn’t have.

“Well, in the rare times that Kuroo acts like an idiot, he does make sure he’s a big one,” Kenma says.

The room fell silent once more but this time, the air was buzzing with some sort of giddy energy. The three of you shared a knowing look. 

And then --

“Pfft!” Yaku snorted, unable to hold in his amusement any longer. And just like that, the three of you burst into laughter, although Kenma’s was more of a snicker. 

You don’t really know what the look they shared just now or what Kenma’s words implied, you just found it funny.

It was a few moments later when the laughter finally died down into a comfortable silence. 

“It’s been a while since I laughed that hard,” you said breathlessly, leaning back on your seat and clutching at your stomach that began to hurt just a little at how much you were laughing. 

Yaku and Kenma looked over at you with fond smiles, happy to see you happy. 

“So, are you going to be okay?” Yaku asks softly.

“Yeah, I think I’m doing better these days. I’m slowly learning to accept it. I know can’t force someone to love me. And I’m not the type to beg and chase after someone. So...” you shrugged. “That’s that. I’ll get over it eventually.” You really hoped so. You know fully well that some things were just not meant for you and you just had to be okay with that. 

“Are you sure? You didn’t seem okay this morning.”

“I’m fine! Really!” you reassured them, waving your hands off at Yaku. 

Sighing, you said, “Okay, okay. So, I didn’t really want to bring this up just yet but there’s a possibility that I won’t be staying in Tokyo for college.”

Yaku’s eyes widened in interest. “Oh? Where are you going then?” 

You grinned. “I don’t want to speak too soon since it isn’t final yet. I’ll let you know once I’m sure. So yeah, I’ve been busy preparing for my admissions these days. I stayed up late last night trying to write my essays. And then we had morning practice, which is why I probably looked like shit at practice this morning.” 

“For real? Good luck then!” Yaku beams, giving you a thumbs up. “We’re here for you, alright? Just come to us if you need anything.” 

Kenma wordlessly nods in agreement. Suddenly, the school bell rings, signaling that it was time to go back to class.

“You guys, thank you for today,” you gave them a warm, genuine smile. “I feel so much better now that I was able to talk about things with you.”

You opened your arms, inviting them in for a hug, to which they accepted. After giving them a quick hug, you reached up to ruffle their hair, much to Kenma’s displeasure. But he’d put up with it because it was you he’s used to it. Grinning, you let go and started cleaning up the table. 

With the possibility of going to Yale on the horizon, you couldn’t help but be hopeful. Maybe some distance from Kuroo is what you needed to get over him. Maybe you were just meant to be friends and nothing more. If you can’t have him the way you want him, then you’ll learn to accept that being his best friend is enough.

Baby steps. You remind yourself. One day it won’t hurt to look at him anymore.

You smiled to yourself, feeling so much lighter for the first time in a long while.

You picked up your bag from the chair as you were about to head out of the clubroom when something catches your eye. On the shelf was a nekoma volleyball club jacket with the letters KT written in permanent marker on the lining. Was it Kuroo’s? He never leaves his jacket behind.

You gave it a second look, debating whether to take it with you so you could give it to him but ultimately decided not to.

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A/N: Hello! I know it’s been a while since I updated. I hope my readers are still around. Kuroo isn’t here but he will appear in the next chapter. I’ll be able to post the next chapter sooner since I already have it mapped out.

I apologize for being away for so long. Apart from being busy with studies, I also had a hard time mapping out the direction of the story. 

You see Kuroo and Hana weren’t meant to be a couple LOL. Kuroo was just meant to like her but I was too excited to post the first chapter that I completely overlooked it so I had to think of a way to blend that into my original plan for the story hahahaha. Also, I had a bit of a writer’s block for a while and wasn’t so satisfied with my writing. But i’m back! Let me know what you think of this chapter! :)

(I was going to post this as a bonus chapter but I decided that this is important to the development of the story.)

See you in the next chapter of Autumn Skies!

Brace yourselves for more angst!

taglist is still open!

Disclaimer: Kuroo Tetsurou, Haikyu!! and other Haikyu!! characters belong to Haruichi Furudate.

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